《Black Magus》


 0 - A Long Life of Suffering and Awe.

    One of my earliest memories was from around three to five years old. When I approached my mother, lying on the couch after a long day of work watching her favorite programs to ask her if she¡¯d be sad if I were to die.


    Naturally, she shot up on the couch, worry and concern apparent on her face, and told me. ¡°Of course, I would. What made you ask that?¡±


    Of course, as a toddler, I lacked the ability to fully articulate my feelings at the time. Or any words at all, for that matter. But even if I couldn¡¯t openly voice my thoughts at the time, I knew that the reason I asked such a question was because, at that young age, I¡¯d found my answer to the question that has plagued humanity since we first began to think of things other than ourselves.


    The meaning of life is to suffer.


    So, why propagate it?


    That memory; that question and my answer, were reflected upon throughout the immature years of my life. And over time, I learned that instead, I should¡¯ve asked. ¡®Why do people have children at all?¡¯


    The Earth was a foul place. Nature is cruel and unforgiving. And, for all intents and purposes, death, war, pestilence, poverty, and injustice all served as the foundation of the human condition. Just as much as curiosity, tenacity, a sense of wonder, and an innate need to explore; to learn.


    I¡¯d seen the signs of it as I grew up. In school, I was neither an outcast nor overly popular. A blank face in the crowd that could easily break the tension with humor in the event unwanted attention came my way. A blank face in the crowd who¡¯d mind was always running, always questioning and guessing.


    To find the answers I so desperately sought, I read. For nearly my entire first decade and the following years. I read as much as I could. Anything I could. Through those books, I gained a base level of understanding of many things.


    I learned of the physical world- reality. I learned that the universe is far greater than we can truly comprehend and that we¡¯re unable to perceive what we see around us as they truly are.


    I learned of history. Of how humanity came to have the ¡®things¡¯ it had in the modern era; be they tangible or abstract. Of war and injustice, exploration and discovery.


    And through the power of observation, I learned about people. And I realized that while nature could indeed be cruel, she could be far more beautiful. At such a tender young age, I realized that the ugliness on this planet was entirely due to our kind.


    Homo Sapiens.


    I acknowledged that as a concrete fact around the time I graduated high school. And after joining first the army and then a private military corporation in 2020, the human condition was all that I saw on nearly all corners of the Earth.


    As a human, I was part of the problem, of course. One of the uncountable people of both past and present who were paid in one form or another to put forth a couple of decades of one''s life towards perfecting the art of inflicting misery on another in every way imaginable. Conventional and unconventional warfare; subversion; espionage; terrorism; naval, aerial, and orbital operations, just to name a few. And all for a college education.


    Despite all the things I¡¯d learned during that time, the biggest lesson that I took home was the knowledge that humans were the sole living monsters on this planet. And after returning home and ¡®reintegrating with society, I learned that such monsters weren¡¯t segregated to the war-torn lands in the far corners of the world. But among us in the civilized world as well.


    At that time, the only thing I wanted was for it to end. To return to the blissful non-existence of pre-birth. The eternal void of a null consciousness.


    But I couldn¡¯t do it myself.


    So, I purchased a bit of property far from civilization and constructed my own house. I started growing my own food and generating my own power. Then used my immense free time to take up any and every hobby or skill that I could learn online. Through the hundreds of billions of tutorials for virtually all things, I learned everything from sewing to coding; metallurgy to bread baking; origami to rocketry.


    When my desire for knowledge grew too much to bear, I put my dormant wealth and the benefits of my service towards pursuing a Ph.D.


    In doing so, I saw learned how blind we were. How we acknowledged the hate and suffering within our declining environment, yet continued living as if our Earth were a utopia; propagating without end like a culture in a petri dish. Consuming everything around it until it reaches the shallow, yet relatively high walls of the world it¡¯s trapped in. Wherein it turns to lay its gaze upon its wake for the first time and bares witness to the sterile wasteland it created.


    I was just past fifty when the signs became unignorable; yet were still ignored. The walls of the petri dish were on the horizon. Yet people, my friends and family, and the billions of strangers living and dying on planet Earth kept compounding the problem by continuing to breed. Continuing to consume. Continuing to propagate. Despite society; the world, beginning to crack into bits around us.


    However dissatisfied with life I was, regardless of how badly I wanted the suffering of existence to end, my dreams never died. Contrarily, they burned ever brighter like the most luminous of quasars. Fueling my mind with dreams of a better world and giving me a retreat from the dreary darkness of reality.


    I wished to see a better Earth. A better humanity.


    So, like many others before me, I tried to make my dreams a reality.


    I obsessed over it unhealthily. Dedicated more decades of my life and more wealth towards tinkering and attempting to change our cold, cruel reality with technology, forged from our own hands.


    I and countless others around the world toiled and worked and stressed and failed and fought and labored and sometimes even succeeded at making or taking the next ¡®thing¡¯ that¡¯d give their pocket of humanity a little more time before feasibly extractable resources ran out- before the walls of the dish slammed inward on our faces.


    The dish broke in 2066.


    The Paradigm Shifted when I was 73 years old. The world itself seemed to have been pushed in an entirely different direction from the hand of the illusive, mysterious, and seemingly inhuman Starfarer.


    From his influence, every culture and every society on the face of the earth changed, in one way or another. And within half a decade, the Starfarer was gone.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    In his wake were cities that¡¯d been, by the majority, tossed aside to be reclaimed by nature. Humanity instead favored the gargantuan self-contained ecosystems known to all as arcologies. In his wake, he pulled humanity from the cradle, giving us access to the abundance of space-based solar energy and precious metals, as well as the schematics and designs needed to build orbital habitats and spacecraft. In the years after, humanity officially became a spacefaring species. Hundreds of thousands of humans lived in orbit with no intention of ever returning to Earth.


    I was among them.


    Living in cis-lunar space within a kilometers-wide spinning donut. Filled with those of technical knowledge mixed with more... primitive people. Refugees and warriors with no war to fight.


    Another petri dish waiting to collapse.


    Another cesspit. Filled with a culture. Bred from the same human condition.


    All I could do in the face of such despair was bite the bullet.


    I continued doing what I¡¯d been doing my entire life. I studied. I learned. I attempted to use the abundant information I had at my disposal to make the world I so desperately wanted to live in. This time, I learned about the construction of orbital habitats, atmospheric shuttles, and Lunar landers. Of spacecraft design and orbital manufacturing. And most groundbreaking of all: automation.


    And then I found my promise.


    Just nine years after the shift and five living in orbit, a young woman from the middle east strode through the streets of our habitat, announcing to all the formation of her own technological empire. She was hardly twenty years old but carried with her a list of accomplishments comparable to any scientist of merit. Not to mention the charismatic flair and cohort of competent aids that support her claim of being an Empress-to-be.


    She made me an offer. I accepted, with conditions. In turn, I and countless others ventured all the way to Saturn. We took up residence in the Laplace gap of Saturn''s rings, wherein I again dedicated what my declining body could offer toward making my dreams; and now another''s, into reality.


    At the turn of the century, change came again.


    In every region of the Solar System, humanity found itself with technology spawned from their wildest dreams. Symbiotic AI constructs and brain-machine interfaces, cybernetics and life extension technologies, nanotechnology, and highly autonomous machinery.


    At the ripe and dry age of 107 years old, all the things I¡¯d dreamed of since my younger years were now made a reality by the hands of others.


    I was now getting younger by the day, biologically speaking. My dreams were made irrelevant, but my passion for unlocking the secrets of the universe stayed true. So I settled into my new life as a commoner of the Saturnian Empire- something akin to the life of a king by Earth standards. I lived without want within the magnificent ¡®Gates¡¯ that were constructed to house the steadily increasing populous. I spent my newfound youth primarily in the lab. Learning as much as I could about the near-limitless information and technology humanity had access to. All the while ignoring the signs of the culture; the human condition, spreading throughout the Empire¡¯s kingdoms as the years turned to decades.


    As long as humans were present, the culture would follow. That, I¡¯ve known for ages. Yet, our technological reach, vast as it may have been, only caused the suffering of life to change shape. Much like the different forms of energy.


    It was toward the end of those decades, that I finally found my answer.


    At 134 years old, the Saturnian Empire completed its first orbit around the Sun. With the passing of the first ¡®Saturnian Year,¡¯ came the celebration for the completion of the Arxis Hub.


    As seen from the surface of Titan¡¯s northern region, the Arxis Hub is a single, great pyramid akin to the ones in Egypt. Though in actuality, the Hub is a bipyramid, half-submerged in the hydrocarbon sea of Kraken Mare.


    A bipyramid that was approximately ninety-percent computer systems cooled by the gelid liquids surrounding the artificial island.


    In essence, it was a mini-Matrioska brain. Described to be the Holy Land of the Saturnian Empire.


    The final resting place of all Saturnians.


    ***


    Unless one was in hospice or on their deathbed from natural or unnatural causes, a Saturnian would assimilate into the Arxis Hub under one of four conditions.


    The first applied only to the Empire¡¯s military force. The Saturnian Knights. In the event of a court-martial, A Knight could choose to or be sentenced to assimilate into the Hub, wherein they''ll experience a subjective hell; dependent on the sentencing.


    The second condition applied to the nobles and royals of the Empire. By the Empress¡¯ decree, anyone of royal or noble blood can assimilate into the Hub with the highest honors, so long as they followed the local laws of the ruling monarch or lord of their kingdom or nobility. This, in turn, has led to the many kings, queens, lords, and ladies enacting laws and decrees in order to prevent their descendants from assimilating as they so pleased; all for various reasons.


    The third reason was much like the first, only aimed toward the commoners. Wherein an individual scheduled for execution could opt to forgo the painful theatrics and assimilate into the Hub to undergo a dictated period of subjective hell.


    Lastly, the option of a ¡®Suicide by Hub¡¯ was open to the general population. Those like me, dissatisfied with the objectively prosperous life in the Empire, or life in general, could choose to assimilate into the hub. Though, due to the aforementioned lifestyle, it was an option not even considered by the commonality of Saturnia in the early years of the Hub¡¯s inception. Due to that, it was unknown among the general populous what awaited one who willingly assimilated into the Hub.


    Naturally, that meant that I was the first to go to Titan to die and be reborn in the Hub. But that wasn¡¯t to say it was an easy process.


    After submitting a claim, I was told to wait for two years by the terrestrial standard, then reaffirm my decision once every six months. The end of those two years brought forth a psychological evaluation in order to determine if my decision wasn¡¯t derived from brainwashing, blackmail, hacking, or any other nefarious means and that I, in fact, wished to assimilate on my own accord.


    With that, it was a short process of selling all of my possessions and donating the wealth to the Empress. In the end, I was left with just the flesh and implanted metal of my body and some simple cloth clothes before I sent goodbye messages to the few friends and family I had left, now scattered across the Solar System. Then, I was stuffed in a shuttle and dropped down to the surface of Titan.


    With the passing of a relatively gentle reentry and powered landing, the thunks and clanks of metal sealing to metal ceased and the airlock opened to reveal a staircase and corridor made of some midnight-blue metal and glass panels. Neatly arranged conduits of flowing hydrocarbons snaked behind them like an ancient sea beast; capped radially with rectangular lights that splayed warm, Sun-like lights into the otherwise barren metal corridor.


    With no guidance; no shepherd, I walked the green mile towards the end of the corridor to enter a bulbous room filled only with a medical bed and the automated piece of machinery mirrored above it.


    As I lay down for my final rest, the machine above me unsealed at the sides and reached a mechanical arm down to put a type of brace around my skull. And my implants- the mesh of microscopic speakers and microphones in the skin of my ears- lit up with the nostalgic sound that I¡¯d programmed within them shortly after they were first installed.


    I found it blissfully and painfully ironic that it was her voice; the voice of my mother, that last spoke to me; despite her passing more than a lifetime ago.


    ¡°What is this life that you¡¯ve dreamed of living?¡±


    I couldn''t help but snort at the question.


    ¡°I have lived. And I have suffered, in this universe, for 138 years.¡± I muttered after a few moments. ¡°I have dreamed- worked, for decades in vain as others have done, hoping to guide humanity towards a greater future. In another life?¡± I asked, snorting again. ¡°I want to live among something greater. I want to be... something greater. I want to live and learn about the nature of reality and find uncountable data points for my intellect to latch on to. To study and learn to my heart''s content until the end of my days.¡±


    As I muttered my last words, I felt a sudden but distant shock to the back of my neck. And in that instant, it was as if my body had disappeared. Any notion, any sensation that came from my natural body was nonexistent. I couldn¡¯t move. But through my implants, I could feel, hear, and see the growing cloud of my fading consciousness.


    My mind slipped, and with it, the cold against my back disappeared. The frigid shudders my mind was convinced my body was making ceased. The blue metal and snaking conduits of the Hub faded into the void, leaving only the Sun-orange glow of the autodoc¡¯s operation light shining in the all-encompassing darkness

 1 - The Realm of Souls

    ¡­¡°Greetings assimilated one.¡± A disembodied suddenly said. ¡°Welcome to the Arxis Hub.¡±


    Before I could even ask who was there, the endless void transitioned into a cosmic realm of endless bubbles. Just after my disembodied gasp, a surprisingly young human with plain features appeared before me, faced away, hunched over his shoulders while he tinkered and I think¡­ talked with something cupped in his hands.


    ¡°My name is Telin. One of the many minds that brought the Arxis Hub to life. Within these realms, I am considered an Eternal; a God¡­ of Science, if you will.¡± He sporadically announced himself while gesturing to the side with his elbow to bring my attention to the sea of starfield bubbles surrounding both him and my disembodied self. ¡°I will also be serving as your sponsor, and I am the overseer of this universe in particular.¡± He held up his still cupped palms, smiling widely as if he were waiting for something.


    ¡°Why are you staring?¡± I asked after a few seconds.


    ¡°I was expecting at least some kind of reaction.¡±


    ¡°You expect me to be impressed with you after seeing this?¡± I laughed, turning to my surroundings as best I could.


    ¡°I suppose.¡± He shrugged. Then turned to face me entirely. ¡°The Arxis Hub has existed on the outside for¡­ nearly five years by the terrestrial standard. Most assimilates have been either hospice patients or¡­ retirees. You¡¯re the first to assimilate willingly. Needless to say, we don¡¯t quite know what to do with you.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded in my mind. Not really caring for his ramblings. ¡°Naturally, I have questions.¡±


    ¡°About this?¡± He again raised his cupped palms.


    ¡°Namely.¡± I nod. ¡°I can see everything else for myself.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re quite the strange one.¡± He commented aloud before seemingly shrugging to himself. ¡°I must first say that I¡¯m obligated to tell you of the Hub''s inhabitants, realms, and your situation in particular. And then I will answer any of your questions.¡± He apologetically bowed, still tinkering with the assumed universe cupped in the palms of his hands.


    ¡°Very well.¡± I nodded my disembodied head.


    ¡°The denizens of the Arxis Hub come in two main categories: Eternals, for lack of a better term; and Seeds, as in ¡®Seeds of Consciousness.¡¯ Seeds are the individuals who found themselves held to the first or third conditions to assimilate. And those seeds come in categories of their own.¡± He grinned wide as if he were revealing some masterful secret. ¡°Most common among them are the Mature Seeds. These consist of those who died from natural or unnatural causes and were assimilated into the Hub before their demise. After which they will go through a sort of¡­ tutorial. A lifetime where they retain their memories, live an easy life, and cope with the loss of their loved ones, so as to not shock their mind too much once they learn of what¡¯s to come.


    "Below them.¡± He continued after a short pause. ¡°Are the Child Souls. Those criminalized by a noble, royal, or even the Empress herself and sentenced to undergo a hell of their judge¡¯s, or their own making for a certain period of time. After which they are released as an Elder Seed. Finally, Elder Seeds consist of the Child Souls who have come to terms with the afterlife and the Children who served in timeout. All Elder Seeds are locked in a cycle of reincarnating through the different realms around us, their memories being temporarily wiped for each reincarnation. Those deemed worthy by an Eternal may be¡­ assessed, to see if they have what it takes to break free of the cycle and become one of us. But from the Seeds'' perspective, such a thing only happens once every few thousand reincarnations.¡±


    He paused again. This time not to grin, but to gesture to his side with the elbows once again. Bringing my attention back to the field of bubble-trapped universes. ¡°Each of these realms was created from either an Eternal such as myself or is a visual representation of a virtual game made by someone on the outside. Making each and every one of them unique. Some have creatures that resemble nothing like humans. Some contain otherworldly abilities like superpowers or magic. Like this one.


    ¡°The Deities of the Hub are mostly comprised of the creators of this place, such as myself.¡± He went on to say. ¡°As well as any Saturnian nobles or royals who¡¯ve nearly died over the years or assimilated of their own accord. A select few Seeds that have met a few criteria of ours make up the final minority.


    ¡°While it is true that our capabilities as digital constructs are nigh-limitless.¡± He humbly stated. ¡°In this context, the Eternals are the rulers of the multiverse around us. Some are the creators of the universes you see here, but not all. Still, you can think of each of us as game developers in the outside world. Only, the ¡®characters¡¯ are the Seeds of consciousness from once living people.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded between his ramblings.


    ¡°Like Seeds, Eternals come in different templates as well. At the lower end of the spectrum are Half-Deities. A seed of this rank will be able to retain the knowledge and memories of their past lives with each reincarnation. Above them is¡­ well, a Deity.¡± He chuckled sheepishly. ¡°A Deity not only retains the knowledge of their past lives, but they''re also able to influence all aspects of their appearance or presence at the beginning of each new life; within the confines of ones race of course.¡± He teasingly grinned before continuing. ¡°Lastly, in such a realm are the High-Deities. In addition to the benefits of their lessors, they are able to choose which universe they will be reborn into.


    ¡°Above them is that of a God.¡± Telin quickly said as if to speed past saying the name. ¡°As the name suggests, they will be born as all-powerful beings in whatever universe they find themselves in, though their powers will be chosen by the Overseer of that realm in particular. Their higher forms, on the other hand, aren¡¯t particularly more powerful, but they are granted the ability to choose whatever powers they will come to possess. All while staying true to the power structure of that universe, of course.


    ¡°Lastly are the True Eternals.¡± Telin sighed almost relieved. ¡°On our own, True Eternals create and oversee the realms around us as well as sponsor lesser Eternals within those worlds. That is to say, we give them power. Though we too come in two categories. ¡°A Prime Eternal such as myself and a few Saturnian Royals and Nobles have the capability to leave the Hub whenever we so wish. We can travel through any network we can weasel ourselves into, taking the form of something similar to an AI companion to aid someone in the physical world. Or we can possess the body of an android.¡± He shrugged before grinning excitedly and nodding eagerly. Almost like he wanted me to say something.


    ¡°Uh...¡± I began. ¡°So, which type of Seed am-¡±


    ¡°You are an Unproven Eternal.¡± He smiled wide with pride before continuing as if he never interrupted himself or me. ¡°Or so we¡¯ve decided. There were some of us who suggested you be any type of Deity or God. Others felt you deserved to become a True or even a Prime Eternal for being the first to assimilate willingly. Collectively, we decided to test you. And so.¡± He held up his still-clasped hands and gazed at me over the horizon of his knuckles.


    ¡°But before that.¡± He sighed. Dropped his hands and brought forth the mass of large, vibrant bubbles without a gesture or movement. ¡°I must tell you of the realms. Besides the obligatory ¡®Hell Realms,¡¯ the first in their categories are the Natural Realms. These are realms created by a True Eternal, but not overseen by anyone. Such universes are much like the world outside, only devoid of any significant loss of unfairness, suffering, and hardships, meant to assess and temper new Child Seeds until it¡¯s been determined that they¡¯ve matured and are able to migrate to the higher realms without loss of sanity.


    ¡°The Higher realms.¡± He continued after a short pause. ¡°Are universes a Seed will migrate to upon maturing. They are places as close to the many fictional lands explored through the pages and screens of humanity''s greatest works. Exotic realms. Wherein they''ll inhabit mortal vessels and live fantastical lives in realms of might and magic and just as much conflict found in the Natural Realms or the outside world.


    ¡°It is within a realm such as this that you will reside.¡± He held up his hands, revealing another bubble-sized pocket universe filled with vibrant filaments and peerless voids that represented the numerous galaxies and the spaces between. ¡°This is a realm created by me and filled with Elder Seeds to act as your proving grounds. A type of mix between all the realms. Meant to assess an Unproven Elder Seed such as yourself over the course of a lifetime. Or two.¡± He chuckled to himself before continuing. ¡° In this universe exists a magical system painstakingly crafted by myself. Though, like in a Higher Realm, hardship and misfortune are more common than in a Natural Realm. Only more so due to my intervention.¡± He said with a hint of excitement. ¡°That said, while it may be your proving grounds, this universe has essentially been tailored to fit you. And within these grounds, you will be monitored by the countless Eternals above who reside within and outside the multiverse. From birth until the moment of your death.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded. ¡°So, it¡¯s like a test- No. It is a test. You turn me into an Eternal to see if I¡¯m worthy of becoming one.¡±


    ¡°Precisely.¡± He nodded. ¡°Ascend and become a Prime Eternal, or fail and be locked in a cycle of reincarnation with no knowledge of your past lives with the rest of the Elder Seeds.¡±


    ¡®That¡¯s fair, I suppose.¡¯ I shrugged internally. Then nodded without a body to the marble floating above his palm. ¡°So, can you tell me more about this realm I¡¯ll inhabit?¡±


    ¡°As a fellow scientist, I believe that this universe is what your Seed is most compatible with, and is what will excite you the most.¡± Telin Grinned ¡°A magical realm of my design.¡± He proudly stated.


    ¡°Go on.¡± I prodded.


    ¡°While I have created and controlled everything within this universe, your home galaxy and the ones in its local group were populated by means outside of my making. And while I have done a bit of¡­ tinkering, I¡¯ll have no more influence on what happens in this realm after you enter it. The only effect of my presence is the source of the magical energy that spreads through this universe- Mana.¡±


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    ¡°Galaxy?¡± My brows perked up.


    ¡°Meigien.¡± He grinned proudly. ¡°Your home system is called, Tiatus. A system with a K-type star that¡¯s inhabited by many different trees of life. Each with its own sentient race of creatures that dominates their realm by using mana in a different way. All humans, for example, can manipulate the four elements.¡±


    ¡°I see. I see.¡± I nodded. Thoroughly unimpressed. As I still held some reservations about living on the surface of a planet again. Even if I could bend the elements.


    ¡°That¡¯s not all!¡± Telin smiled. ¡°To compensate for the immense innate power of the inhuman beings of this realm, I¡¯ve given the stronger humans a bit of aid to make up for their innate weakness. A magical gland that they themselves call, Affinity Cores. Regardless of their name, they enable humans to take on the qualities of a more complex element or natural phenomenon and use that affinity magic.


    ¡°Though, since most humans aren¡¯t soldiers or warriors,¡± Telin continued, ¡°roughly half of the population is born with this power; a Hereditary Core. In addition to that however, the top ten percent of humans in terms of magical ability can receive my blessings and be granted anywhere from one to three additional cores that would otherwise be impossible to attain. Though, even their blessings will be tame when compared to yours.¡± He chuckled to himself before continuing. ¡°As for how an individual uses their magic. That,¡± he grinned wider. ¡°is entirely up to the mage¡¯s imagination and their understanding of their magical affinity.¡±


    ¡°Interesting,¡± I commented aloud.


    ¡°I knew you¡¯d like it!¡± He almost celebrated before returning to his usual demeanor. ¡°Ahem. But that¡¯s not all.¡±


    ¡°Go on.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°In addition to being able to wield more forms of magic, humans have a type of... augmented reality system.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess.¡± I groaned. ¡°A system with points and skills and levels and such that¡¯ll allow me to instantly become knowledgeable or skillful in a certain thing?¡±


    ¡°By the Empress, no!¡± Telin scoffed as if he were offended. ¡°If it were, you wouldn¡¯t be very compatible with it, now would you? And also, that¡¯s just boring! I mean, what¡¯s better? Having someone invest points in strength and suddenly have the power to crumble a boulder to bits? Or someone with a magical affinity for... let''s say¡­ webs, who found a way to cross the ocean with nothing but silk and ingenuity?¡±


    ¡°Woah, you¡¯re beating dead horses, man.¡± I hurriedly said, wishing I had some palms to raise. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean for you to start ranting. Jesus.¡±


    ¡°No. There is no such thing.¡± Telin shook his head after regaining his composure. ¡°As I said, it is simply augmented reality. A way for an individual to compound their magical knowledge without making it known to another. It¡¯s essentially a grimoire that only you can see. And it¡¯ll tell you of how much wealth you hold and of your Class.¡±


    ¡°Class?¡± I hesitantly asked.


    ¡°A magical job, in a sense,¡± Telin explained. ¡°Some are chosen from birth, others you take of your own accord. But instead of monetary payment, you receive magical payments. Rather than giving you a skill or ability from mindless slaughter, you''ll receive hints, clues, or even tasks that will lead to an increase in power or the development of a new technique. And rarely, a class can change your physiology. But most often, a class will change the way mana naturally reacts with an individual. That is not to say these¡­ mutations; if you will, are instantly gratifying. Like all jobs, there are positions, ranks, or levels to them. Regardless of the merits of these ranks, however, time will need to be invested to meet the conditions to obtain them. And further time still to master these new abilities, regardless of their benefit.¡±


    ¡°An example of that would be?¡± I slowly asked.


    ¡°I implore you to find out for yourself.¡± Telin grinned.


    ¡°Tch. Alright. Keep your secrets then.¡±


    ¡°I intend to.¡± He chuckled away before pushing on. ¡°Now, I must explain the benefits of being an Unproven Eternal Seed.¡± He stated with a raised finger. ¡°The most apparent of which is what you¡¯ve already surmised. You will become a God of this realm. All for the sake of us many Eternals of the multiverse and beyond to assess you and see if you¡¯re capable of becoming one of us. The first of your many benefits comes from your nature as a God. Regardless of the vessel your Seed finds itself within, the knowledge and experience accumulated throughout your past life and the personality you¡¯ve developed will remain with you in this new life.


    "Secondly.¡± He raised another finger. ¡°You will always be born in your perfect image. As tall or short and whatever complexion you wish to be. Though other things such as your race, origin, and lineage have already been decided by me, your Overseer. And your Affinity Cores will be as well. Lastly, your Eternal Eye is able to be used as you see fit.¡±


    ¡°My fucking what? ¡±I blinked in confusion.


    ¡°Think of it as a second mind.¡± Telin so amiably explained. ¡°A data center for everything that your body; old and new, and your very Seed has experienced thus far; coupled with a visual and or auditory overlay for seamlessly accessing it. In essence, it is our way of preventing memory overload after living multiple lifetimes within the Hub. But it¡¯s so much more than just that.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± He meekly shrugged. ¡°Most of us use them as you would optical implants, hence the name. In truth, it can be tuned in any way you can imagine. It may take some time to find a method you¡¯re comfortable with. But you¡¯re free to try it now.¡±


    I recalled the first familiar thing and imagined; if only for a brief second, checking my internal hardware. The numerous implants and augmentations I had installed in my last body. And a second later I found a familiar sea of words cascading in every direction, searching for a wall or flat surface to scroll on until it opted for an ordinary screen with low opacity.


    [Seed Name: None Given.]


    [Disposition: Melancholic.]


    [Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral.]


    [Traits: Stoic. Antinatalist. Misanthrope. Skeptic. Cynic. Morbid. Cold Blooded.]


    [Intellectual Expertise: Physics. Science. Technology. Engineering. Arts. Mathematics. Social Sciences. History. Medicine.]


    [Physical Expertise: Physical Fitness. Athletics. Unarmed Combat. Marksmanship. Short Blades. Athletics. Dexterity.]


    ¡°So many words.¡± I sighed, wishing there was some sort of surface to plant this text on rather than having it float in front of my face.


    ¡°This is only temporary. You can have a sheet such as this if you so wish, but the final version will be quite different.¡± Telin nodded as if in agreement. ¡°What you see now is simply a representation of all you''ve learned in your past life and the temperament of your Seed. These will come into play in determining your inborn magic and your lineage. And while you may retain these skills in a sense of muscle memory, you¡¯ll still be required to develop the necessary strength and endurance in your new body if you want it to move the way you wish.¡±


    ¡°I see. I see.¡± With knowledge of my¡­ Eternal Eye, I nodded faster and faster with the finalized plans in my mind to skim through the important bits at my leisure.


    ¡°Now, as I was saying regarding the Classes.¡± He lightly chuckled. I won¡¯t go into the specifics of their benefits, but I will tell you how they work. I¡¯ll preface by saying there are no numbers involved besides the level; as I¡¯m sure you¡¯re glad to hear.¡± He charmingly smiled. Causing my accurately placed relief in the spotlight. Much to my dismay.


    ¡°As I¡¯ve said.¡± He continued unabated. ¡°Classes are akin to magical jobs. To obtain one, you¡¯ll first have to meet a few conditions in order to qualify for that Class and then go through a ritual of sorts to actually take on that Class as your profession. The same process will have to be done for each subclass; and as you can expect, each class will have you do different things. Each rise in level is much like a promotion in your standard job and requires you to accomplish a certain feat or task. And each subsequent rise in level will require you to do more and more specific tasks, up until the cap at level 20.


    ¡°And that is all I¡¯m obligated to tell you.¡± He clapped. Formally bowed once again and quickly regained his posture. ¡°Thus your post-assimilation briefing is concluded. I¡¯m willing to answer anything that I¡¯m able or willing to. Once all of your questions have been answered, your race and affinities will be shown to you and you¡¯ll be sent off to be born!¡± He loudly clapped his hands again and bent over once more in a bow before erecting himself, extending a finger of forewarning while pointing a stern gaze toward my disembodied self.


    ¡° However,¡± Telin growled in a low, cold tone that seemed out of place from his cheery, logical nature. ¡°I wish to remind you that this life you¡¯ll live is a test. However it may seem at any given time, it is neither Hell nor Paradise. Make of that what you will.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± I slowly nodded. ¡°How many others are there in this world? Elder Seeds, I mean.¡±


    ¡°There are many.¡± He almost chuckled after my mute reply to his answer. ¡°Even if I gave you a number, it wouldn¡¯t mean anything to you. It would just be an empty number. As is the case for anything over a few thousand, at most.


    ¡°Regardless.¡± He waved the matter aside. ¡°The number is forever fluctuating. The only answer is that there are only so many Elder Seeds within the entirety of the Hub. As such, there is a population limit and a strict process that determines where Seeds wind up. That said, you should rest assured that these worlds are sufficiently populated. And more so, you will remain as the only Eternal to reside in this particular realm. You. A being favored by the Overseer of this universe. A being blessed with exceptional magic. Born from an exceptional bloodline. What one would call, ¡®favored by God,¡¯ in every sense of the phrase.


    ¡®God, meaning you.¡¯ I finished his ramblings in his stead before moving on to my other question. ¡°And what can you tell me of this world? Its customs, history, etcetera?¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t tell you anything.¡± He apologetically smiled. ¡°Telling you everything would simply ruin the fun of learning yourself, would it not?¡±


    ¡°True.¡± I amiably nodded.


    ¡°Besides, we¡¯d be here forever if I did.¡± He chuckled. ¡°I will tell you, however, that you will have to wait until you¡¯re 15 to receive your additional affinity cores. And even later for your Classes.¡±


    ¡®Favored by God indeed.¡¯ I snorted internally. ¡°Why the nerfs?¡±


    ¡°All-powerful children are never welcomed well in such realms unless prophecies are involved.¡± He huffed. ¡°And even then, it''s iffy. If you receive your Cores and Classes with everyone else, no one can deny you received your abilities from me.¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± I sighed. ¡°But that begs the question, you hand out abilities. Are the denizens of this universe knowledgeable of you? Are you worshiped? Will I have to pray to you?¡±His face broke with laughter and he covered his mouth before looking back at me in what I thought to be disbelief. It was hard to tell. ¡°No." He giggled. "No, you won¡¯t have to pray to me. Only the Elves are aware of my existence, though they don¡¯t exactly pray to me either.¡± He muttered that last part under his breath before turning back to me. ¡°There are a few primordial beings- Gods of this universe alone.¡± He paused curiously before continuing. ¡°But you¡¯ll learn everything in due time.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± I skeptically nodded. ¡°And how are spells used?¡±


    ¡°Imagination, and Will.¡± He simply replied.


    ¡°That¡­ okay.¡± I sighed in frustration. ¡°I¡¯ll figure everything out myself, I suppose. There are no more questions.¡±


    ¡°Then please imagine the new form you wish to take and wait for me to finalize the details of your new life before you¡¯re reborn.¡± He bowed again. ¡°I¡¯m excited to see what you make of this realm.¡±Before his words could even finish trailing off, the ethereal trail of words began cascading before my eyes. I quickly began thinking of the shape I wanted for my mortal vessel, which was simple. I wanted to look like myself. Just as I was in my past life, more or less. That in turn made it easy to focus on the information passing over my eyes.


    [Analyzing Disposition, Alignment and Traits¡­ Hereditary Affinity Spawned¡­ Finalizing Lineage¡­ Ancestry Complete¡­]


    [Analyzing Intellectual Expertise¡­ Determining Affinity Cores¡­ Affinities Determined.]


    [Analyzing Physical Expertise¡­ Determining Proficiencies¡­ Proficiencies Established]


    ¡­


    [Integration Complete¡­]


    [Seed Name: None Given.]


    [Hereditary Affinity: Void]


    [Affinity Cores (Dormant): Electromagnetic Magic. Gravitation Magic. Space-Time Magic. Nuclear Magic.]


    ¡°Five affinities.¡± I whistled low in approval. ¡°Wow.¡±


    ¡°As I said, favored by God.¡± Telin chuckled to his now disembodied self.


    ¡°You¡¯re still here!?¡± I turned about in place.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t been conceived yet.¡± He appeared before me again, shrugging. ¡°Give it a little more time.¡±


    ¡°Then, I have more questions,¡± I said. ¡°Nuclear Magic doesn¡¯t distinguish between the strong or weak force. So, which is it?¡±


    ¡°Weak.¡± He snorted, almost as if he was surprised I even asked. ¡°Not even you can have that much power.¡±


    ¡®Didn¡¯t hurt to ask.¡¯ I shrugged internally. ¡°So instead you gave me Space-Time. I¡¯ve never experienced such special treatment.¡± I chuckled.


    ¡°Such is the privilege of an Unproven Eternal.¡± He nodded before beginning to fade into the background of a peerless void. ¡°A privilege indeed. As well as a curse. So, good luck and live long, my Champion.¡±

 2 - Out of the Womb.

    The first thing that came to my awareness wasn¡¯t a shining light or a beckoning voice. But a scream. A scream of pain and glory followed by a prickling cold that surrounded the entirety of my tiny body in an instant.


    Cold and wet.


    That¡¯s how the first few seconds of my new life were remembered.


    And after those few seconds, a warm snake seemed to force its way through my nostrils to force the first phlegmy coughs from my lungs in the form of an embarrassingly loud wail. Thus beginning the restless cycle of my new lungs.


    In that moment of confusion, I distantly felt a gentle; dark, embrace surround me and quickly wick the cold wetness away from my body. I managed to get the crying under control just as my nausea died down. And with my senses now stable, I attempted to take a look around to study my new environment in earnest. Now eager to learn of the relative time period of the realm I¡¯d been born into.


    The bed upon which I was born was a rectangular mattress of some plush material curtained under a silk drape of black with a gilded trim that matched the covers of the bed. A flickering amber glow danced along the walls and floors of the room from a place I couldn¡¯t yet see. Leaving only the burrito blanket that was myself and a pair of cheerful, grayed-out faces in the forefront of my view. One was the woman smiling down on me from above; whose arms I was nestled into, the other was beyond my bound feet; leaning over the side of the bed with a teary smile of pride smearing his face.


    As I stared, I began to feel a distinct longing for those washed-out, gray faces, smiling and brimming with pride at me and each other. Deep in my mind, I began to feel as if I were reuniting with one of many long-dead friends. The connection with this man and woman just grew deeper and deeper as the seconds passed and before I knew it, I found myself studying every facet of their visages as they studied mine.


    Giggling away helplessly all the while, just like the child I was.


    My mother was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. From what I could see in the afterglow of the fireplace, her skin was a purple moon color. In the middle ground between an ashen tone and a darker one much like my own, only overlaid with the vibrant, violet shade seen on the clouds during sunset. Her forehead was small. The nose was stout and pointed, paired with a slender jawline. Eyes like that of a feline in shape only; irises like that of a human. Colored in the same vibrant violet as her skin and subtly glowing in their own right as if they were infused with some type of energy. And occasionally occluding those brimming eyes were the few pewter curls not plastered to her face from the thin sheen of effort that seemed hesitant to drip from her brow. Even as she swayed along to the tune of a strained hymn or melody borne from her rocking me in her arms.


    The most notable aspect of all, however, was the sharp points of violet cartilage breaching through her hair around where her ears should¡¯ve been.


    Her actual ears, in fact. Sharp and pointy like the man in green himself.


    ¡°Kooloo-Limpah!¡± I exclaimed in glee. ¡®So, I¡¯m¡­ an elf?¡¯ I wondered to myself and a little out loud. Resulting in such incoherent babble that caused my mother¡¯s eyes to perk up with love and warmth; relief and joy, as well as that same strange, otherworldly aura from before.


    Before I could begin to try and wiggle or turn to see and study my new father, my mother averted her gaze from me and gestured to the man in question to mutter something in a language I¡¯d never in all my years had heard before. A strange and mystical tongue that sounded as much like a song as any spoken word. A song that utterly captivated me with an impulse- a need, to hear more. To learn it. To speak it myself.


    An impulse that died from a set of more familiar words that demanded my attention.


    ¡°You know I don¡¯t know what that means, Eved.¡± My father sighed with clear impatience.


    ¡°He¡¯s beautiful.¡± My mother, on the other hand, sighed with pride.


    ¡°He is.¡± He admirably nodded before abruptly standing and shuffling to turn about and shout. ¡°Ebbet!¡± Towards the end of the bed. ¡°Bring the lens!¡±


    After a bit more shuffling, he calmly turned back to hover over my head as if he hadn¡¯t just screamed across the room and closely looked into my eyes. Giving me all the time I needed to have a good look at him.


    It didn¡¯t take long for my eagerness to die down, however. As the more I looked, the more I felt as if I were looking at a lifelike rendering of a relative I¡¯d never met. Dark brown skin; a long curly afro tied back into a puffed ponytail; leaving a thin sheen of waves atop his head, crested with a gilded band with an elaborate symbol at its center. Dominating his face was a large, bulbous nose and full lips tainted dark from years of smoking. A human. A man with more or less the same genes I had in my first life.


    Which meant that I was in fact, a half-elf.


    Still better than a full human, in my opinion.


    The only other notable thing about my new father came from his fancy dress. An asymmetrically-buttoned evening robe made of an undoubtedly expensive and rare fur, dyed in the same color scheme as the bed below me.


    In short. He, my mother, and the room around me were all gilded flags of the wealthy. Possibly of nobility. If not royalty.


    ¡®I¡¯ve never been born with a silver spoon before.¡¯ I chuckled to myself. Emitting another giggle in the process, much to the pleasure of my parents.


    ¡®Thanks, Telin.¡¯


    While I¡¯d normally never be caught doing such activities as a respectable man, I couldn¡¯t help but feel some type of excitement about my new situation and wholeheartedly indulged in the lavish lifestyle of a newborn infant and began to anticipate the prospect of becoming a living god of this realm.


    It all happened so fast, it still seemed so surreal. Seeds. The Digital Multiverse. Eternals. I was walking to my death just an hour ago and found myself in a magical realm with rich parents after being reborn in this digital realm. Telin had told me such, of course. But actually seeing it; living it, was another matter entirely.


    I would have pinched myself if my baby hands weren¡¯t so useless.


    ¡°He looks just like you.¡± Mother- Eved, was her name, smiled as she looked up to who I presumed was my father.


    ¡°And within him, I feel the blessings of your people.¡± My father nodded. Slowly.


    ¡°And I feel your Sorcery.¡± My eyes darted back to the mother above me, gently retorting. ¡°He has your mark, after all.¡±


    ¡°He does.¡± I snapped my attention back to my father nodding resolutely before he turned to retrieve something from the hands of a burly woman.


    I couldn¡¯t even begin to think about what just transpired due to the warm feeling that began spreading throughout my bottom area at that instant. Looking down as best I could, I saw that I¡¯d soiled myself more than one would think possible for a creature of such small size.


    Embarrassed as I was, I quickly became shrouded by amazement after witnessing the damp fabric surrounding me quickly brightening in tone as the urine magically wicked away within seconds. Leaving my body as comfortable and toasty as it¡¯d been just seconds before.


    With the resolution of my mishap, I turned my attention back to addressing what my father just said. ¡®The blessings of your people.¡¯ Telin did say elves were aware of his existence. Not only that, he specifically stated that as my Overseer, I would have a direct connection with the creator of this universe. ''So, was that why I''m a half-elf? To make my connection with him deeper? Or does it have something to do with mana? And then-''


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°What¡¯s it say, Emmy?¡±


    ¡®Emmy?¡¯ I internally recoiled, turning first to my mother before following her gaze to my father. ¡®What¡¯s with these names?¡¯ I snorted out a giggle. Eved would be normal for a human. Not in Saturnia but perhaps mars or something. Not sure what counted as a common name for an elf though. But... ''Emmy? What the actual fuck is that?¡¯


    ¡°He¡¯s truly blessed by mana.¡± Em- Father, gasped in disbelief.


    As I was staring at him, he in turn was staring at me through some type of monocle. And as I focused further on the eyepiece, a strange blue aura seemed to appear from¡­ well, everywhere. All around us like a gas thick enough to become visible. Waving in the air like heat waves in the distance. Seeping into the monocle at a steady rate and causing it to glow akin to a flashlight as my father studied me through its lens.


    ¡°A Sorcerer through and through. Unsurprisingly.¡± He proudly announced before losing his enthusiasm in the next split second. ¡°His Mana Well is¡­ well.¡± He chuckled, half in amusement and half in evident despair as his head slowly shook from side to side. ¡°It¡¯s as dense as ours and as large as a human''s can be, it seems.¡± He smiled reassuringly before opening the gates on whatever mechanism caused the energy to flood the eyewear. ¡°I measure¡­ wow.¡± He paused to chuckle again. ¡°D - 12.


    ¡°Unbelievable.¡± He muttered in disbelief a moment later.


    ¡°If that¡¯s what the device says then so be it.¡± Mother hushed the matter aside, clearly unconcerned. ¡°What can you see of the Core? His mark is far darker than yours or your grandfather''s.¡±


    ¡°I saw it, yes.¡± Father nodded and seemed to tune his focus. ¡°Indeed, the Core resides in the same place. Though it is indeed far darker. I¡¯ve no idea what it could be. If not Death.¡±


    ¡°Then we must summon him at once.¡± Mother quickly replied.


    ¡°I¡¯ve long since sent word.¡± Father nodded affirmatively before muttering under his breath. ¡°Though you can bet a fortune he¡¯ll show up whenever he so wishes.¡±


    Ignoring my father''s words, my mother- Eved, then turned her gaze back to me and began to position herself to feed me. Her eyes filled with the same notes of pride and love and warmth that had been there just moments before.


    ¡°My son.¡± She whispered in whatever they called English in this world before continuing to say something else in that strange language from earlier, just before her eyes lulled close.


    Finally giving me time to parse through my thoughts while I filled my belly.


    First and foremost of them was my one and only complaint about Telin¡¯s ¡®briefing.¡¯


    He didn¡¯t even ask.


    In truth, I wasn¡¯t even sure I even want to become a Prime Eternal in the first place. I assimilated into the Hub to escape the real world. Not to return to it as an android or a digital construct immediately after getting bored. Though, the prospect of coming and going to see how the petri dish changes over time will always remain an interesting prospect.


    That said, I didn¡¯t exactly wish to be just an Elder Seed either. Or any of the named Deities for that matter. If I was to be reincarnated countless times over, no matter what I did during those lifetimes, then I¡¯d want nothing less than the place of a Higher God- to be able to choose what realm I¡¯d spawn into next and live another lifetime as a powerful being.


    But then that begged the question of boundaries. What did it take to be judged as a Prime Eternal? Or a God? A Deity, or an Elder Seed?


    It was easy to assume that I¡¯d have to live as a truly fucked up individual for me to be reduced to the lower end of the spectrum. But what about that ripe middle region that I so desired?


    With my limited knowledge, the only conclusion that could be drawn was to live up to the virtues of the Saturnian Empire; where the Hub and thus these realms remain tethered to physical reality. That was the objective variable. No matter how much we lied to convince ourselves otherwise.


    No matter how much I lied to convince myself otherwise.


    Honor. Intellect. Technological Proficiency. Elegance. Aesthetics. Self-Worth. And Wealth. Values that appeared to have bled into this realm as well. Perhaps due to Telin¡¯s influence, or maybe due to the innate personalities of the Hub¡¯s denizens. These¡­ Seeds of Consciousness.


    Judging from Telin¡¯s words and the hierarchy of these Eternals however, I had a strong inclination that they valued individualism; or more precisely, character. And thus Telin and the other Eternals were simply interested in observing my life to determine if I was the kind of person they wanted among them rather than give me a creed or doctrine to live and be judged by.


    Regardless, there was little I could do about living in any particular way at the moment, so I put my mind to more important matters. The first being the Eternal Eye business. I spent more than three-quarters of my life with machine parts integrated into my body. Here, in this world of magic, it seemed almost like a waste to have something so remarkable mimic something as unremarkable as augmented reality. And so, I dove into configuring how my fully digitized mind would feed me the information I¡¯d cultivated over so many years.


    An effort that took a shockingly short time.


    While I had my issues with it, I didn¡¯t do away with augmented reality entirely. Its use as a heads-up display made it an invaluable tool. But only when used to quickly gather information about my immediate surroundings at a glance- A compass rose and a mini-map of the environment; the name or some other basic information about a person, place, or thing. Or whatever this whole Class deal was. It was detailed information; technical knowledge and both short and long-term memories that I didn¡¯t want occluding my vision. For that, I used my perfect memory recall to my advantage and essentially set the Eye up as a sort of cloud brain linked with a storage and retrieval system. Or in another sense, A server for my biological brain. One tailored to function like personalized ads that delivered relevant information to my stream of thought as the concepts crossed my mind.


    Any information that passed through my senses would be retained by the Eye, regardless of where my focus was. I could be in a daze, daydreaming about things that don¡¯t yet exist in this realm while someone gives a lecture or while I flip through a book and I¡¯d retain a vague concept of whatever that subject was. Thinking further on that vague memory would bring it forth from the Eye like an instantaneous memory transplant. Invoking a sort of lucid dream that would pass in an instant from an external reference frame.


    With a few iterations, the Eye was fully configured and the change was like night and day. I could relive any point of my life, in a sense. Take my time focusing on any specific point of the memory that my senses were aware of at the time. Progressing and regressing and even slowing down the dream-like state as I so pleased, and with not even a second passing in real-time.


    With this, I¡¯d be able to learn what I assumed was Elvish, as well as any other language from both the Sol and Tiatus systems in an unprecedented time. Something I greatly intended to abuse.


    Next was to delve into the nature of Mana, Magic, and these Classes. I had literal years ahead of me before I could walk and talk and operate without my parents hovering over my shoulder. And even more time until I awakened my affinity cores and gained the ability to take on a class. Thus I had significant time to carefully research everything I could regarding the prior two. Magic and Mana. And with the abundant energy swirling around, it was easy to get a start.


    Though, as a literal hours-old baby, I dared not try and interact with it. And so I simply observed and hypothesized.


    As I observed earlier, I could see the energy everywhere if I focused my eyes. It appeared as a fluid in a dual phase of gas and liquid, colored like the blue waters of the Caribbean. It emanated from everywhere at once, yet flowed into things and replaced itself even as it dissipated. Even as it fell towards otherwise innocuous places like the fireplaces, a few trinkets and chairs, and even the walls and floors themselves. The energy just reappeared from nowhere.


    Noted.


    After spending some time working on a few theories, I put my ideas on ice and started to think back on what my parents were saying. Wells and Marks and Sorcery.


    Being wrapped in blankets, however, I couldn¡¯t exactly see anything on my body. And so I did the only thing I could think of at the moment.


    I used this¡­ Mana Sight, to give my body a lookover.


    Unremarkably, the energy was seeping into me like it was my mother and a variety of other things inside. Albeit at a much slower rate than the one whose arms I was cradled in.


    The only thing I could think to do after that was to try and meditate or see inside myself or something. In truth, it felt silly to do as a baby. But then again, such feelings were only an illusion of the mind.


    It¡¯s not as if my sleeping mother could scry my thoughts, after all.


    With that thought, I closed my eyes and cleared my mind. Then focused on the small bundle of matter that made me, me.


    There was nothing at first. And after an indiscernible length of time, I began to see an ethereal outline of my body. Almost like a ghostly double. Glowing at its center was a cylindrical mass slightly larger than my heart. Like a beer can had been implanted beneath my sternum. Only, instead of blood, the same glowing energy that I could see outside was contained inside. Only far, far denser. Like quartz or diamond instead of the gaseous liquid around me.


    Most surprising of all was the¡­ bean that sat just below it; around where my naval was on my physical body. Like a kidney or a curled-up leech that was so black in color that it appeared to be a blot on reality itself. Like a region of the space within had been erased from existence. Leaving essentially nothing in its place.


    My Hereditary Core, I assumed. Making the larger one my Mana Well.


    After gaining enough data points to contemplate for a while, I allowed my mind time to relax by letting it wander. Subsequently, as the minutes passed and my stomach filled, I grew extremely tired and lethargic.


    Thinking back, I became surprised that I¡¯d stayed up for so long in the first place. It¡¯d been hours since my birth and I hadn¡¯t even slept for a second.


    In an attempt to sleep, I continued letting my mind drift and surprisingly, found myself thinking about something I¡¯d convinced myself I wouldn¡¯t. My body.


    My first body, with skin like dark coffee and eyes to match. Topped with a mop of black locs that¡¯d been grown and trimmed and regrown over the course of nearly a century and a half. The same body I would one day grow into, in this realm. Or so I thought.


    ¡®But, where is the original?¡¯ I wondered. ¡®How much time has passed on the surface of Saturn¡¯s moon, Titan?¡¯


    That was a question that, once spawned in the back of my mind, I couldn¡¯t quite shake loose. No matter how many years passed thereafter.

 3 - Amun, the Curious.

    Shockingly, I didn¡¯t truly sleep that night. Nor any night that passed thereafter.


    Instead, I spent roughly four hours just¡­ laying there. My eyes were half-closed whilst I lay there in a dreamlike state. Still aware of all that went on around me.


    Up until the moment I had a dream.


    A dream of an ethereal black mist that occluded a night sky just enough to allow the light of a fantastical nebula to shine through. Resulting in a vibrant sky-scape of violet hues and star clusters of varying colors for as far as the mist allowed one to see.


    As the days grew to weeks and then the months approached a year, the dreams continued each night like an astral play. The mist or dust or whatever substance it was that blocked or absorbed the light from beyond became less and less occluded, yet didn¡¯t disappear entirely. It only condensed and took form into a shape that could be described as nothing less than a dragon. Though not one in the traditional sense. No vibrant scales, no horns or ferocious teeth. Just an indomitable blackness personified into what I assume to be the most powerful entity in this universe.


    Or one of them, at least.


    With a few months of age under my belt, the dreams started playing backward before eventually repeating without end. Once they did, I did my best to put them out of my mind and directed my attention toward more practical matters. Namely, the world around me.


    Though that in itself was more akin to a well. As my reintroduction to the land of the living was about as standard as my first time through.


    The entirety of my time consisted of napping, eating, and shitting myself while my parents constantly talked to me in their native tongues. With me already being fluent in English; or Common as it was called here, the ¡®conversations¡¯ with my father were more like torture sessions where I was forced to endure hours of coos and baby noises from what I assumed to be a politically powerful man.


    Regrettably, watching his frustrations steadily grow from my blank stares eventually forced a few giggles out of me that immediately probed him into continuing for hours on end each day.


    Torture.


    The sessions with my mother, however, were far more interesting.


    Even more so were the benefits of having the Eternal Eye tuned in the way I did. Every word spoken by my mother was retained and compartmentalized into my mind to be later withdrawn and tediously studied or practiced. Still not being fluent, however, I bided my immense spare time by applying the Eye in perusing through any number of the scrolls, books, busts, or paintings that I¡¯d seen in passing as well.


    Through them, I learned we were most likely in a place called Odissi, which itself was either next to or a part of a place called Deapou. Though, there were no maps that¡¯d give me any indication of where in this world we were, there were paintings depicting tales of how the land came to be. Of a harsh land of snow, ice, and monsters on some northern isle that¡¯d been culled of hostilities and cultivated to its current state by two great Mages. The ''Iron Magus'' and the ''Necro King.''


    Two more data points to latch on to in my infancy.


    Within just a few more weeks I was fluent enough to learn that what my mother had said to me on the day of my birth was- ¡°We shall call you, Amun.¡± In Formal Elvish. An ancient drow name; according to her, with no surname. As is their custom.


    It was around that time that I noticed the ¡®mark¡¯ my father spoke of after my birth. Just above my diaphragm was a fuckin¡¯ huge birthmark; if I could even call it that. Composed of a thick, wrist-sized line that stretched from my naval to my sternum and branched out at the top into a semicircle that bordered my belly. Filled with squiggles or lines that resembled the waving branches of a leafless willow tree.


    Strange and exotic, but noted all the same as the other data points.


    Within a few more weeks I was fully fluent in the language and began paying more attention to my mother''s words as she spoke them, though I still couldn¡¯t speak them myself. At that time, however, I noticed that, unlike my father, my mother actually spoke to me like an intelligent person. Well, she mostly told stories; but after I was fluent enough to understand them, they became the highlight of my evenings.


    They were stories about the past; mostly. Of how the different races lived on their own planes within the system; unknowing of each others¡¯ existence before the opening of magical portals 1,475 years ago. Allowing the denizens of each world to travel freely between worlds with the added effect of an increase in the density of mana across the system. She told of how the eastern lands became a warzone from the invading denizens of the demon, orc, beast, and ice worlds. Of the loss of entire continents and of the ensuing twelve-hundred-year war. Of how, after more than a millennium of fighting, the Elves came to the aid of humans with knowledge of how to receive higher forms of magical abilities, and how Emperor Deapou and the Necro King brought peace to these lands. Thus bringing about the current era of peace and restoration.


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


    All but confirming the hypotheses of my birthplace.


    I listened with great interest, learning all that I could about the history of this new world and more importantly, about the other worlds within the system. But not of her home world, strangely.


    I listened until her stories ended and the long sessions of nuzzling and cuddling and calling me her little ¡®Elfling¡¯ began. Sessions that I¡¯d spend pondering everything Telin told me before my rebirth.


    Sessions that I grew more accustomed to before I knew it.


    By six months of age, I had an answer for a few questions burning within my mind.


    It took no time to deduce that Telin was neither a benevolent nor an omniscient God in this universe. As he said, he doesn¡¯t even govern it. He¡¯s simply the source of the Mana within it. And the cause of the portals spontaneously appearing. In turn, that meant I most likely would never hear from him again. At least until I left this universe. Which was fine by me. More than that, it was a glorious feeling. Yet Telin¡¯s warning still remained sharply in my mind.


    I¡¯d be given everything, sure. But everything could and most likely would be taken away at some point. The only question was when. And not knowing the answer meant doing all I could to be prepared for what was to come. I needed subordinates to act in my stead, and they needed to be trained exceptionally well. And more than that, I needed money. Or something else to pay my subordinates with.


    With that, the only other questions left in my mind were questions about magic and world history. The real history. Not a family tale that''d most likely been washed out and changed over time. Questions that would obviously have to wait until I was older until they were answered.


    As for magic, It took weeks of studying; of feeling the energy around and within me to gather that it was comparable to dark energy in the fact that it existed everywhere. In each pocket of three-Dimensional space, mana was present. Though that¡¯s as far as the similarities went. Unlike dark energy, mana wasn¡¯t uniformly distributed throughout space. Even in the small confines of my home, I could feel various regions; various rooms, with lower concentrations of mana than others. Like the blue, gaseous energy I¡¯d seen before at some times, almost like an ethereal layer of water surrounding me at others. And obviously, mana wasn''t responsible for the acceleration of the universe¡¯s expansion. As far as I understood, it was like the ¡®muscle¡¯ between willing or wishing something to happen and it spontaneously happening. An energy source to produce illogical results.


    Though that was nothing more than an uneducated guess based on sheer ignorance. So, not worth much merit.


    By one year I was able to not only fluently speak Baby, but move about on my own; be it crawling or walking around for a few seconds at a time. Conversations improved with my father by leaps and bounds after that. At any time he was around, I could crawl or hobble over to any picture or art piece, or strange thing that I saw and he¡¯d give a description or story about it. A grossly vague description. But a description nonetheless.


    My questions mostly revolved around how things worked around the relatively expansive grounds of my nursery. A four-roomed wing consisting of the bedroom I was born in with an adjacent baby bathroom for myself, a small kitchenette, and then a proper washroom for my mother to use. Each of the halls and rooms was warmed from the perpetually flickering fires in the fireplaces, cackling away without a trace of wood or gas. Only an intricately cut diamond could be seen at the base; glowing a soft amber color. These jewels; fashioned with strange carvings that I assumed were runes of some sort, were used and placed everywhere. Over and under pots and pans or in my bathwater to heat or cool or even fill them.


    I pointed to everything, and each time I did, he¡¯d pick me up and bring my face close to the innocuous device or plate or cube of the same diamond-like material and point out the intricate runes on the device before giving a painfully simple smile and exclaiming. ¡°Enchantments!¡±


    Ugh.


    Regardless, it was a new data point to latch onto and study every time I got a chance. Sprouting a new obsession to occupy my mind; along with the other facets of my intrigue. Yet, nothing notable happened after that. I continued wandering around the confines of my little house in my free time, observing the ambient mana and many enchantments around me while trying to get attuned to living in the body of a half-elf toddler by virtue of eating, shitting, and sleeping as much as I could.


    The body felt surprisingly human. A bit lighter I supposed, but otherwise no different from what I could feel. Save for the fact that I had pointy ears and became quite irritable in bright light.


    At around two years I was moving about on solely my feet. But I''d long since grown bored of the confines of my tiny house; which felt more like a prison than anything else.


    I was almost at my limit my father suddenly entered, approaching me with a beaming smile as always. But before I can speak or make a sound, he knelt down to place his hands on my shoulder.


    ¡°Amun,¡± He said. Gently shaking me as he spoke to me seriously for the first time. ¡°In a few years'' time, many things will begin to change for you. You will begin to feel power within yourself. You will begin to see things. You will learn of your heritage, of your status, of your Class. And you will begin to take lessons in how to act according to your station. You¡¯ll meet many new people: The tenders of the estate, your servant, and more importantly, your great-grandfather. He is a great and powerful man in terms of both magic and political authority. And he will be coming to teach you the basics of magic and of the changes you¡¯re about to go through. Do you understand?¡±


    Regrettably, I couldn¡¯t hide my excitement and grinned wide at him before nodding silently. And I didn¡¯t even blame myself.


    Ever since I was born, I¡¯ve been thinking about trying to use the blue fluid swirling amok inside myself; to give myself some trial runs.


    In truth, the only thing stopping me was the lack of solitude; I could only imagine my parents'' reactions at seeing an infant whipping around spells, or worse, being the center of an inadvertent massacre. Half-elf or not, I didn¡¯t see it ending well.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re capable of great things, Amun.¡± He brought me in for a hug after a moment. ¡°I love you.¡±

 4 - The Necro King

    Age must¡®ve meant something different in this place or something, because it wasn¡¯t until a month after my fifth year of living that I was treated to any kind of celebration for simply existing.


    Or, that¡¯s what I¡¯d have thought if it weren¡¯t for my Eternal Eye.


    At around two and a half terrestrial years of age, I began speaking coherently and had been allowed to walk around the entirety of my small world under little to no supervision from my parents.


    My nursery consisted of the large bed I¡¯d been born on, tucked into a polished slate alcove just large enough to allow for walkways on either side. Just past the bed were twin fireplaces set into the walls at forty-five-degree angles. Splaying heat and flickering light into the elliptical space that made up the rest of my room, wherein sat my crib and some seating arrangements for my parents. To the left and through a doorless entry of arched stone were a dedicated play area and classroom with padded floors about half the size of the nursery proper, complete with a small desk for my literacy lessons and an assortment of toys I hardly played with.


    On the far side of the nursery from my classroom however, was a proper bed and bathroom for my parents and a service room for Ebbet; the burly woman who I came to know as the head maid.


    My days began to be filled with lessons in reading, counting, and writing nearly a year later. Lessons that took a laughably short length of time; as they consisted of only memorizing a different set of characters with the same grammatical structure. Nearly depressing my father until he went on to teach me the calendar. Though he didn¡¯t tell me how it came to be, he taught me that there were thirteen months in the year. With three, ten-day weeks in each.


    Six months after my third birthday, I began to feel it was safe enough to begin interacting with the energy around me. If sparsely. I learned that, with a bit of mental effort, I could swirl and mix the energy around me. At the time, it felt like I was a kid again; in my first life, focusing on a rock or bottle or puddle of water and attempting to awaken a dormant power that would never exist in such a harsh reality.


    Only in this world- in this reality, it worked.


    With concentrated thoughts, I could manipulate a relatively small amount of this¡­ mana. I learned I could drag it through the nursery and threaten to knock over paintings or other decorations from the fluctuations of energy. I could draw it into myself as well, but that only caused the mana inside my Mana Well to cycle out at the same rate. Resulting in a slight change or relief that I compared to clearing one''s sinuses, and not much else.


    As for the energy in my own mana well, it was condensed into a crystalline solid rather than the multiphase fluid in my environment. I couldn¡¯t compact or condense it further in any way. Or even interact with it in any way other than cycling the energy or outright withdrawing it. At which time, a shard of mana would detach and sublime into a thick band of gaseous energy that¡¯d begin cascading towards my affinity core like matter falling into a black hole.


    So, with nothing else to do other than read the many storybooks my father gave me and listen to the tales told by my mother, I practiced manipulating the energy around me whenever I had an ounce of solitude.


    The night I turned five; according to this world¡¯s calendar, my parents came into the nursery and hoisted me into their arms to bring me deeper into the estate than I had ever been before.


    At that time, I learned that what I thought was my home was simply an auxiliary wing of the proper estate. A separate house more than a wing, accessible by only me, my mother, father, and Ebbet via a wooden damn or a bridged cliff-side waterfall overlooking a vast ocean.


    An ocean I didn¡¯t get to see much of, as I was brought inside another building atop the dam. The service wing of the estate, I learned from my Father¡¯s whispering. Set just across the ¡®hall¡¯ from my nursery and in the geographical center of the estate so that the chef and other staff could tend to all corners of the domain in a flawless manner.


    After being seated, my parents stood on either side of me and waited as a small group of people stood in front of my booster seat.


    ¡°Your Grace.¡± Ebbet bowed.


    ¡®Your fucking what?¡¯ I winced inside as I stared at the crown of her head lowering and raising back out of view.


    She was the big burly type of woman that would fit the script of the ill-mannered but good-hearted aunt of a dysfunctional family. Either that or a barmaid you did not want to mess with. She had sand-tan weathered skin, a slight hunchback, and gray hair tied tightly in a neat bun that shimmered like precious metals in the light. Though I¡¯d hardly ever seen her and had never spoken to her, she¡¯d indirectly cared for me since I was born. Which was only a small fraction of her life, I assumed by looking at her. Though that wasn¡¯t to say she was on the decline. In fact, she looked like she could easily keep kicking for another half-century.


    In this environment, at least.


    ¡°This is my niece and Your Grace¡¯s personal caretaker.¡± She continued, gesturing to a young girl by her side. ¡°Her name is Jonet Fischer and is five years of age as well. Since she could stand, she has been personally trained by myself to cater to your each and every need. All you need is to give the order.¡± She once again gestured to the girl in question after giving the introduction.


    Jonet had caramel-brown skin and a somewhat large forehead that was obviously covered by a thick brush of curly brown hair tied in much the same fashion as Ebbet¡¯s, only a little¡­ unrulier. Like her aunt, she was dressed in black slacks, loafers, and a matching sweater with golden-yellow trim. Much like me, she was as short and frail as most five-year-olds and seemed to not grasp the entirety of the situation she was in. Made evident by her smiling at me like a prospective friend she met at recess. Most apparent of all, however, were her eyes. Not the brown or hazel one would assume from her skin tone, but an intense glacial blue that seemed to glow as she silently stared.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°It¡¯s an honor to finally meet you, Your Grace.¡± A silver-haired man bowed next. He was around twenty-five by appearance and had been grinning the entire time from either force of habit, perpetual excitement, or a social mask. Otherwise, he appeared like a teacher-turned-line cook. Complete with greasy hair pulled taut in a ponytail, baggy eyes, and a scruff of beard toned in the same silver-gray as the hair on his head. The only thing missing from the image were tattoos, which seemed to be traded in favor of light leather armor strapped over some light chainmail and unmistakably pocked with vacant attachment points. Though I had no idea what they were for. Quivers or knife holsters, if I were to guess.


    ¡°My name is Gerolt Flay.¡± He bowed proudly. ¡°I am a hunter and the personal chef of the House of Cole. You have my word that I¡¯ll deliver only the finest versions of whatever meals you request. And I highly recommend that you only eat from my hands until Your Grace can cook for himself.¡±


    ¡°If he so wishes, of course!¡± He quickly added.


    ¡®Your Grace.¡¯ I pondered as Gerolt paused to turn about and grab a platter of something concealed by a ceramic lid. ¡®I don¡¯t mind being rich or even royalty, but these titles are fucking annoying. And even more annoying is the prospect of being forced to do certain things in the name of the family¡¯s image.¡¯


    ¡®Whatever that even is.¡¯


    My thoughts were cut short by Gerolt setting the platter before me and revealing my celebratory meal. Not cake, nor anything sweet for that matter. Instead, a platter of what appeared to be delicately seared steak cooked to a perfect medium-rare, coupled with a platter of roasted potatoes and steamed vegetables that¡¯d been diced in much the same manner.


    I thoroughly enjoyed my first steak dinner in this world. Though, despite using magic and enchantments to cook and even being an aged cut, it was severely bland. Yet far more palatable than breast milk and mushed food, so it went down without complaint. All while everyone stood by awkwardly and watched me eat.


    And eat. Taking my time as I did so, as to not make a mess of myself and my surroundings in the process.


    In short, the celebration wasn¡¯t much to bark about; nor was any other birthday I¡¯d had after the last two dozen or so years of my first life. I ate, received praise and sometimes a few gifts for simply existing, then suffered through the anticipatory stares and the ridiculous questions regarding an apparent change in perception caused by an increase in age.


    Entirely unremarkable.


    Up until the moment I finished my meal, at least, wherein I felt the mana around the room begin to stir.


    After somewhat straining my eyes, I began to see the ambient energy violently swelling towards the door as if it were falling into a vortex. Or rather, ebbing. Receding to a point somewhere beyond the door to be changed into something darker, more sinister, before rushing back through the threshold as a tempest of night.


    The door began to open in the next instant, allowing the strangely familiar feeling to unabatedly emanate from the threshold and begin flooding the service wing.


    However, much like with my parents, I felt a deep connection to it. Specifically, to the person on the far side of that threshold producing this foul, yet welcoming energy. Even before they crossed into view, I felt as if there were a part of them and me that were the same. And that some part of myself was currently resonating with a part of them; or they themselves, in harmony.


    ¡®Is that¡­D-¡¯


    ¡°Kneel for His Majesty!¡± Ebbet suddenly slammed her knee into the ground. Followed not much later by Jonet and Gerolt.


    Though despite her words, my mother and father remained standing at my sides. And so I remained in my booster seat.


    The man who entered was¡­ large, to say the least. He was taller than my father by several centimeters. Probably close to two meters in height, though not nearly as lankly as my old man. His biceps were as big as my old man¡¯s quads and he had a face that looked to be made of some exotic brown stone chiseled and chipped away to reveal the same features as my father and I; or rather, features he imparted onto us. Only, he held a glint of perpetual amusement and indifference that shined in the pitch-black irises of his eyes.


    A glimmer that I recognized at first glance. As it was something that I myself had; both in the past and at that particular moment.


    The glimmer of a mismatched seed and vessel.


    We were inversely similar in the most fundamental way. Me, an old man in a young weak body; and him, a child in an old strong body. Polar opposites that most likely wouldn¡¯t attract.


    Most notable of all, however, was the energy emanating from him. Something I now recognized as the shadow of death. A cold and pervasive energy that felt like it was reaching toward me to commit the unthinkable. Only¡­ it didn¡¯t. Like a charging, violent animal, it suddenly lost all sense of hostility as it came into my range.


    Looking around, all of the staff seemed to be utterly terrified. Even Gerolt; who I assumed to be a little seasoned and had faced death at least once, was literally sweating bullets and shaking with such fervor that he practically vibrated the floor beneath him.


    Everyone was affected, save my father and somewhat my mother. And me, who was so focused on the energy that nothing else in the room seemed to matter.


    ¡°No need for the lens.¡± The large man waved off my father, approaching with the same monocle he used on the day of my birth. ¡°I can feel it for myself.¡±


    In just a few strides, he approached my child-sized throne and knelt so that he could look me squarely in the eyes. ¡°Do you know who I am, son?¡± he smiled warmly.


    I blinked at him a few times, attempting to turn my focus away from the energy surrounding him before finally managing to meet his eyes with a smile. ¡°Grandpa Lich.¡±


    ¡°Wahahahahaha!¡± He burst out laughing before kneeling to the side. ¡°Now that¡¯s a first!¡± He hollered to my parents before gazing catching a glimpse of the shocked staff behind him and quickly regaining his composure. ¡°Ahem. I am your great-grandfather, yes.¡± He nodded proudly. ¡°High King of Odissi, Everandus Cole. Otherwise known as the Necro King.¡±


    ¡®Again with these names.¡¯ I internally sighed before repeating his name with a cheeky smile. ¡°High King Cole.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He nodded, grinning wide. ¡°And you, Amun. Are the Grand Duke of the Odissian Empire.¡±


    ¡°A grand duke,¡± I repeated slowly with the perfect mimicry of a child.


    ¡°A Grand. Duke.¡± Grandpa repeated with a suspicious look in his eyes before turning away with an amiable shrug. ¡°Or a Grand Prince. Whichever you choose.¡±


    ¡®As if.¡¯ I internally scoffed before shaking my head slowly and speaking in a somewhat apologetic tone. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a Prince.¡±


    My mother held her heart and seemed to melt in place at the sound of my words. Meanwhile, my father only chuckled to himself a few times before my grandpa reached forward to undo my booster seat and allow me to step down to the floor.


    ¡°If you¡¯ll come with me, son.¡± He held out his hand. ¡°We and your parents will have a short talk before you begin your lessons in magic. And then, you¡¯ll be taught to be a proper royal.¡±

 5 - Amun of Odissi

    Silently, I trailed after my great-grandfather, attempting to familiarize myself with the strange energy as much as I could. While I felt a connection with some energy brimming from both him and my father. If I focused within, I could feel a different energy synergizing with Grandpa Lich that my father didn''t have. Death. And yet, there was another. One far too potent to not notice.


    After leading my parents and me back to the nursery wing, he handed me a set of neatly folded clothes much like my father''s. "Change into these." He grunted, gesturing to the restroom.


    I took the clothes without a word and trotted off towards the door, trying as best as I could to study the material without ruffing them up on the way. Once behind the shelter of the closed door, I gently placed the gear on the counter so that I could closely inspect the pieces one by one.


    Poised upside down on top of the stack of clothes was a pair of black suede loafers. A timeless, simple, and elegant design. Yet when placed alongside the bottom of my soles, they seemed entirely too big. Placing them gently on the floor, I then grabbed what I initially assumed was a large silky towel with golden stitches embroidered along the border and in the center with what I assumed was our family crest. A chevroned banner with the image of a golden sunrise occluded by what appeared to be the waving branches of a black willow tree.


    I set aside my questions for later and quickly unfolded the next item of clothing, a pair of simple black slacks that also seemed a few sizes too large for me. The last items were the pea coat style jacket and a simple white undershirt made of the same silky material as what I now assumed was a cape of some sort. Surprisingly enough, the latter was the only piece of clothing that visually looked like it''d fit.


    Naturally, I pulled the shirt over my head first and was pleasantly surprised at the comforting embrace it afforded. Silky and smooth like one would guess from looking at it, but also warm and fluffy like that of fleece.


    After wallowing in the feeling for perhaps a bit too long, I reached for the pants and began stepping inside the wide mouth that was the waistline. My frustration turned to confusion as my foot reached the end of what I now realized were basically two long socks connected to a set of trousers, then into stupefied awe as the fabric started to contract on itself and become tailored to my waistline. Looking down at my feet, I could see they were indeed wrapped up to my ankles in what looked and felt like socks, yet there was enough slack above them to allow the pant portion to fall over the top of my foot, giving the piece the appearance of regular slacks.


    Smiling in amazement, I reached for the jacket and quickly pulled each of my arms through the sleeves. Once rested on my shoulders, the fabric retracted around my limbs like the pants did until my arms breached the stitched tunnels and tightened around my wrists to a snug fit while the buttons did much the same- pulling themselves taut to automatically fasten along the right side of my chest.


    Like the undershirt, the jacket and pants were both absurdly comfortable and pleasantly warm. Though not so much as to feel as if I''d overheat; even inside the estate. Though I had doubts about its durability, I felt safe in assuming that each piece was enchanted in more ways than what I''d just witnessed.


    Lastly came the shoes, which brought less of a surprise to see them reshape to my size than it did to feel them mold to the shape of my soles; giving my foot all the support it needed and making it feel as if I had just stepped onto a cloud.


    As great as it was, however, that didn''t mean it was without issues. Namely the last article of clothing. After fiddling with it for a few moments, it seemingly animated and wrestled itself free from my grasp to fasten itself above my collarbones. Allowing a half cape to hang from my left shoulder and cover the entirety of my arm.


    ''Whatever." I shrugged my frustrations aside. ''I''m sure I''ll find some sort of compromise. And I''m sure they''re waiting for me in there anyway.''


    Surely enough, Grandpa Lich broke out into a prideful monologue the moment he made eye contact with me after I returned.


    "What you are wearing is the formal dress of the House of Cole." He vehemently began. "Though you lack the surname, you are still a Cole. And as a Cole, you must be aware of your heritage."


    He paused until I was standing before him and giving him my undivided attention before continuing. "Nearly three centuries ago, I and my closest friend; the Emperor of our sister nation, Jamettus Deapou, cultivated these lands. With my necro army and his great magic, we culled the land of all hostilities and built the lands you see around us. We created these Empires; the Deapou Empire, and Odissi, together. As such, he and I are of the same standing. Though we have differing titles- He is the Emperor, and I am the High King. King of Kings."


    He paused for another moment to give me time to absorb the information, I supposed. I quickly nodded after the third or fourth second to probe him into continuing. Luckily he did just that after giving me a prideful grin.


    "We are one Empire, in name. Two in actuality- Deapou, and Odissi. And just below the Emperor and I." Grandpa said, gesturing towards my parents. "Is your father and mother. The Archduke and Archduchess- Emeric Cole, and Eved; the high-dark elf."


    They gave me prideful glances while lovingly holding each other in an embrace. A sight I could barely contemplate, as my grandfather continued his ramblings.


    "Below them, is the one other King in our Empire, Auberon Uplos. As well as you, Amun," He proudly declared. "As the Grand Duke, you are on par with the Emperor''s heir, the Grand Princess, Roheisa Deapou. She''s around your age. So expect to meet her, eventually. And never let her, or anyone else, bully you." He grimly waved his finger. "Not even the Emperor himself."


    "I understand." I quickly nodded. I''d always had a strict no-tolerance policy for bullying or being bullied by anyone. And it seemed my Grandfather was all too pleased to hear it. As he grinned wide and nodded while seemingly scratching his wrist.


    And out of nowhere, he reeled his arm back to reveal a black belt dangling from his fist. Like his and my father''s, it had a large golden buckle fashioned in the same crest as the one on my cape. Though mine was smaller than my father''s; and his smaller than Grandpa Lich''s.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "This belt is the final, most important piece of your wear, Amun. All who lay eyes on it will know that you." He gently punched his beefy fist into my chest. Forcing me back a step." Are the Grand Duke of Deapou, Amun of Odissi." He took a knee before offering the belt to me with both hands. "Wear it with pride."


    As I reached for it and began wrapping it around my waist, it wrestled free from my grasp like the cape and quickly bound itself around my waist. I tried to hide my awe from seeing the slack disappearing into thin air before me, yet failed as I looked into my grandfather''s abyssal eyes with as much excitement on my face as there was conviction in my words. "I understand."


    He grunted admirably to himself before erecting his posture and stepping backward. At that moment, I looked away for a second to put on a more contemplative face before returning my gaze back up to him. "But Grandpa Lich," I said. "If the Emperor is so old, why does he have a daughter my age?"


    Despite the embarrassed looks from my father, I managed to get a couple of boisterous chuckles out of my grandfather and a few quiet giggles from my mother at my seemingly innocent question.


    "His Imperial Majesty has reigned for centuries, Amun," Grandpa explained, still chuckling. "That is far longer than any leader should reign. And unlike me, his time in this world is limited. So, he did as all Emperors do. Sired an heir."


    "I find it¡­ strange, that we''re the same age." I wondered aloud after a short pause.


    "You and I both," Grandpa grumbled. Then waved the matter away entirely. "Regardless, that''s all you need to know about your status as a Royal. You''ll learn the specifics later. What''s most important to you is your heritage.


    "In a world full of Mystics and Wizards and Witches." Grandpa continued after a short pause. "We of the House of Cole are Sorcerers, beloved by the darkest forces in the known realms. Since time immemorial, our ancestors were born with some form of dark magic. Always Darkness and sometimes Death." He gestured to my father. Then himself. "While the origin of our power has long since been lost to us, we are fortunate to have the arts survive through our bloodline."


    "How was the origin lost?" I slowly asked.


    "War." My grandfather wickedly grinned. "A war so great it nearly sterilized the realm. Humanity survived." He leaned back with a sigh. "Our knowledge did not. And then, the Gates opened. And much was lost once more.


    "Anyway, enough questions." He quickly snapped. "The clothes we wear aren''t just for show. Wearing it brings us closer to the shadows. The first stage of our Sorcery."


    He paused while I took a second to look myself over. I couldn''t deny it was stylish; if a little high on the vanity scale. Each of the gilded buttons along my coat boasted our family crest and an embroidered version sat on the breast pocket just above my heart.


    "How do you like it, Amun?" Grandpa eventually asked. "Each article of clothing you wear has been enchanted by the finest artificers in the Empire. Not only will it give protection from magical or physical attacks, but it will also keep your body warm or cool in any environment. And has a slew of other features as well."


    "I like it. But." I couldn''t help but glance at the cape disapprovingly before looking up at his towering figure. "Do I have to wear this cape?"


    "It is not a cape." Grandpa shook his head, smiling. "As I said, each article of clothing has been enchanted with spells that only those with our affinities can use. These enchantments can tap into your shadow mana and bring forth your powers subconsciously. That piece around your shoulder is known as a Shadow Veil; an item that protects you from the sun and disguises yourself in a cloud of darkness. The cloak can take the form of whatever article of clothing you choose. Be it a cape." He gestured to himself, then to father. "A scarf, or whatever else you can imagine. Simply pour some mana into it and think it into existence. And it will change accordingly."


    Following his directions, I turned to the silky fabric wrapped around my shoulders and imagined the first thing I could think of. Embarrassingly, I let out a small shocked gasp as the fabric relaxed around my shoulders before reforming it around my neck into a tie. Causing more than interested gazes from each of my forefathers and a curious chuckle to arise from my mother.


    ''I guess ties didn''t exist in this world, until now.''


    "Is that better, Grandson?" Grandpa Lich smiled warmly after seeing my childish wonder.


    I only grinned back at him before nodding excitedly. Though I was having a bit of fun in trying to play the part of the child I was, I couldn''t deny that, at least from what they showed me, my family loved and cared about me.


    As did my first family, certainly. But my second family could at least stuff a gilded spoon into my mouth right after I was born. Though that in itself is a small quip when opposed to the state of the world I was born into. Earth was a shit hole. Yet I had no clue as to how this world compared.


    "That''s not all they can do, Son," My father said as he approached, pulling my thoughts back to the present. I turned to see him reaching into his jacket for an inner pocket, only to pull out a lumpy sack that he then offered before me.


    From the look, sound, and weight I felt when I tried to pick it up, I knew it could only be coins of some sort. Through my peripherals, I could see my father waiting in anticipation while I carefully placed the sack at my feet and squatted to open it. It was fist-size for him but as big as my head after all.


    I unraveled the string holding the bag together and recoiled in surprise as the opening widened to reveal a hefty pile of polished gold coins. All perfectly minted the same size.


    ''Holy shit!'' I recoiled in surprise. ''I know I''m royalty but, damn! There has to be at least a few hundred in here.''


    "Happy birthday, Amun." Father grinned over my shocked gasp. "Now, do as I do."


    He held up a single coin in his finger and slowly placed it inside his sleeve, then retracted his empty finger a moment later and gave me an expectant look.


    Slowly as to contain my excitement, I reached into the bag to pull out a coin and mimic his actions. When my fingers went inside my sleeve, I felt a strange cold envelop my skin. Letting the coin go, I felt it fall away far from my hands; not to come to rest inside my sleeve, but as if it went to a separate dimension entirely.


    "Our shadow affinity gives us the innate ability to delve into darkness." My father explained, distracting me from my magical wallet adding a single gold coin to my wealth. "Specifically, to a place that my father called, The Shadow Realm. Though I never liked that name." He chuckled. "I- we." He gestured to the rest of my family after interrupting himself. "Call it the Umbrafell. Whatever its name, this dimension exists as an echo of reality. A mirror world of darkness, fear, and madness that we alone are privy to. So much so that we have our own separate world within that dimension that can be used to store items.


    "Normally that would require you to consciously manipulate your shadow mana. But the enchantments in our coats makes it effortless. For example, try placing your allowance into your shadow below you."


    ''My allowance.'' I snorted wryly. Following his directions, I picked up the bag and slowly began lowering it over my shadow. Just before it touched the floor, my shadow suddenly darkened and thickened until it resembled a soupy, almost smoky material that billowed from the floor and let my bag fall through without resistance.


    [+1,000 Gold.]


    Due to my awe, I barely noticed my mother suddenly walking off with a hint of frustration in her eyes. Before I could even turn to her, my father took hold of my shoulder and knelt by my side. "Now," he said with a reassuring smile. "I''ll show you what our shoes can do."


    With that, our combined shadows began to thicken and condense beneath us and before long, the same cold sensation as before began to spread around my ankles and legs.


    And then the room suddenly rocketed upward out of view.

 6 - A Lesson In Magic.

    After falling through our shadows, we were transported to a throbbingly quiet and cold realm that was starkly different from anything I imagined. Firstly, we were floating in some type of fluid that felt like extremely cold water and air. But the cold was distant. Like phantom pain. My father all but dragged me through it by the arm as he swam- or flew through the inverted landscape behind Grandpa Lich.


    By appearance, it seemed as if we never left the room. Yet, everywhere that was normally touching light was covered in a pitch black hue while all the shadows in the entire estate shone a bright white. Besides that, the building I grew up in was dilapidated and overgrown. The waterfall that constantly ran under the estate still fell. Only slowly. As an ooze of tar spilling over to spread toxic fumes onto the rocks far below.


    As I was pulled, I could even see my mother walking through the halls in the jarring color scheme. Her form was ethereal and ghostly as she opened doors and maneuvered around walls that simply didn¡¯t exist in this realm.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± Grandpa Lich called from ahead with pride and nostalgia in his voice. ¡°This realm is our birthright. In all my years, I¡¯ve never met another human who feels safe in this place. They always come out terrified. Wahahaha!¡±


    ¡®Yeah. I bet.¡¯ I snorted internally before distractedly replying. ¡°It¡¯s incredible.¡± I paused to see the hints of visible breath trailing from my lips, yet I felt not a hint of cold. A benefit of the affinity, I assumed before asking. ¡°Do we all share the same shadows?¡±


    ¡°Yes and no,¡± Father replied. ¡°The realms that we use for storage are based on our personal shadows; the ones cast by our bodies. You can venture inside, but it''s more of a private realm. Like a country within the realm around us; one you alone have access to. And, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed, it¡¯s cold. Which makes it unwise to store things you¡¯d rather keep hot within your shadow. As for the proper realm, we''ll always be able to see one another roaming about in the same area.¡±


    ¡°The distance that you can travel through this realm and the speed at which you move depends on how much mana you have and are willing to spend.¡± Grandpa Lich explained from his place even further up ahead. Where he was currently doing flips and barrel rolls through the space while he waited for us to catch up. He was definitely a strange man. While he was old; centuries old by the account of him and my parents, he seemed as joyfully exuberant as a twenty-year-old; and sometimes even as a child. Like now, with him flipping and doing mid-air poses above an obsidian dais in the rundown courtyard.


    ¡°Navigating it is another matter entirely, however.¡± He continued. ¡°As you can see, what appears in physical reality is reduced to a dilapidated state. Making navigation difficult.¡±


    Probably at much dismay to him, I gazed upwards in awe at the black void above. Not a star or moon in sight. Yet the dead soil, leafless trees, and everything else were as clear as could be in the endless shades of gray afforded by my eyes.


    With no regard for my awe, my father pulled me towards one of the cloudy white shadows casts from the trees and assimilated through the quickly thickening fog. After a sudden moment of vertigo, I felt the return of gravity pull my feet onto the solid stone surface and the cool night air lapping gently against my skin. Bringing about an immense calm to wash over me as I settled into place across from my progenitors.


    ¡°Sorry to have kept you waiting, dear,¡± Father said as he moved towards my mother, but only after making sure I had my composure. ¡°Amun¡¯s first time should not be rushed.¡±


    ¡°All that matters is his satisfaction with the experience.¡± Mother so elegantly replied while keeping her eyes trained on me. ¡°Amun¡¯s joy is my joy.¡±


    ¡°It was incredible,¡± I repeated to her the same words as before. Prompting a warm smile to spread over her face.


    ¡°Amun.¡± My father suddenly knelt beside me. ¡°Remember what I told you, months ago?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I nodded. ¡°That many things will change. I will learn magic and how to behave as a Grand Duke.¡±


    ¡°Precisely.¡± Father grinned wide and patted my head. ¡°Tonight marks the start of your magical training. I know it is still your birthday, but you are a royal. A Grand Duke. Great things are expected of you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Dad.¡± I nodded resolutely. After all, I stopped celebrating birthdays ages ago. ¡°I¡¯m ready to learn.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± He smiled, returning to his feet and gesturing behind him. ¡°Your mother will talk to you first about both mana and your nature as a half-elf.¡±


    <<As you know, Amun. You are half drow>> Mother approached, speaking in Elvish. <<The world will not see in you that way. In the eyes of most humans, we are nothing more than a race of evil elves that inhabit the realms underground. While the mores of our society could be seen as cruel or heartless to those on the surface. They are not without reason. As a people, we are no more evil than any other elf or human. But only a few understand this.>> She flicked her eyes toward my father and great-grandfather for just an instant. <<The rest will talk down on you or treat you horribly for simply being born as you are. Never let them.>>


    <<You have my assurance that I won¡¯t.>> I nodded to her.


    <<I know.>> She smiled back, pausing to run her slender fingers through my hair. <<I¡¯m certain you¡¯ll be spared from most of the hate due to your dark hair, but it¡¯s best to keep that in your mind and stay prepared for the worst.>>


    <<Yes, Mother.>> I nodded again.


    She smiled again; if only briefly, before straightening up and assuming a more professional aura. <<Now, for the merits of being half-drow. As I¡¯m sure you noticed, we are a species that enjoys the darkness. Far and wide, we live underground. But those of us who dwell on the surface are primarily nocturnal. As such, our dark vision is superior to that of all other elves.>>


    <<The shades of gray.>> I nodded. <<Does that imply the existence of a synergy between my sorcery and the natural abilities of a half-drow?>> For some reason, I¡¯ve never felt the need to hide my higher speech skills or intellect from my mother, despite the complexities of the language. I supposed it was because she would always speak to me in the same manner. Though, even if I were to attempt to hide my intellect, I had the strong inclination that I¡¯d never fool her. No matter how hard I tried.


    <<I cannot say for certain.>> She regally shook her head. <<Half-elves are a rarity in themselves, you see. But it is certainly possible.>>


    <<I see.>> I nodded. <<And I¡¯ve noticed I don¡¯t sleep either. Is that normal?>>


    <<It is, my son.>> She nodded. <<Elves have no need for sleep. You, as a halfling will still need rest if you exert yourself too much; albeit far less than a human would need. Your senses will grow sharper as you age. To the point of being on par or even sharper than the senses of beasts. Most notable of all, however, are three traits. First, is our lifespan. You, Amun, I suspect will live for around two to three centuries. Double that or more if you happen to become a powerful Sorcerer. Second. In exchange for a lacking physicality, all elves are beloved by mana. We¡¯re much more agile and magically gifted than humans, yet physically weaker. We can cast spells made of pure mana, and some of us can even see the energy around us. We are in tune with the energy in a way humans can only dream of understanding.>> She gestured to my paternal ancestors beside her, eliciting confused or awkward looks to be exchanged between them before she continued. <<Most importantly, we can do this.>>


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    With those words, she stepped back and shifted her focus to her loosely curled hand; almost as if she were holding a weapon. Within the next few seconds, the ambient mana began to violently swirl above her palm before rapidly condensing into what appeared to be solid energy. Some sort of reaction occurred within a split second, causing the solid energy to multiply and expand into the shape of a slim longsword brimming with power. Enough to discharge arcs of something that seemed to be electricity but definitively wasn¡¯t.


    Looking at it invoked feelings of destruction and instability within me that made me take an unconscious step backward. But despite my shock, my mother proudly raised the weapon overhead to pose for a few seconds before releasing her focus, allowing the blade to dissipate into the cloud of ambient mana around her


    <<What was that?>> I asked in amazement.


    <<That is something that separates elves from all others.>> Mother so proudly explained. <<Like humans have the ability to manipulate the four elements at will, we have the ability to weave the raw mana around us, and even forge it into a solid weapon. An art we call Mana Forging. You too will be able to do this, once you mature into an adult elf at fifty years old. And not a moment sooner.>> She pointed a stern finger at me before stepping back to my father¡¯s side. <<Now, listen to your Grandfather¡¯s lessons and do your best to become a great Sorcerer.>>


    ¡®Oh, Lady. I will.¡¯ I grinned internally before politely bowing. <<Yes, Mother.>>


    ¡°I¡¯ll explain the basics, so listen close.¡± Grandpa started after taking the cue from my mother. ¡°There are many things we need to cover so pay attention. Besides mana, there are two things you need to understand. Elemental Manipulation, and Affinities.


    ¡°Like elves and their Mana Forging, all humans have the natural ability to manipulate the four elements- earth, water, air, and fire. As its name suggests, manipulating the elements requires the elements to be present in the first place. One cannot manipulate water in the desert, for instance. Only through what we call, Affinity Cores, are we able to use higher forms of magic such as ours. Yet, much of the population is born without them.


    ¡°For those that are, many often spend their entire lives with their sole core. One passed down from family member to family member, with a few mutations found here or there.¡±


    ¡°Mutations?¡± I asked with genuine confusion.


    ¡°Changes to the status quo,¡± Grandpa grunted. ¡°I¡¯m an example of such. A being in possession of an elevated or mutated form of our sorcery. As are you, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re not going too fast?¡± Father suddenly interjected.


    ¡°Have you not seen your own son''s brilliance just now?¡± Great Grandpa Lich quickly spat, turning to his grandson. ¡°I see intellect and understanding hidden in those eyes. He may be fooling you, Grandson. But I have yet to witness a moment of confusion or misconception since I arrived. He¡¯s understood everything that¡¯s been explained to him thus far. For example.¡± He turned quickly back to me with a wicked grin spread across his face. ¡°Amun, can you tell me what it is you felt when we first met?¡±


    I stayed silent for a moment before answering, not to make it appear as if I were trying to appear puzzled; that ship had long since sailed, but because I struggled to find the right words. ¡°It was like... your shadow of death... met mine.¡±


    ¡°Case in point.¡± Grandpa grinned. Then resumed his lesson without pause. ¡°Now, Amun. If I¡¯m to teach you, you have to remain candid with me at all times. You may lie to others about your abilities- To the Emperor or even your Father, I don¡¯t care. But never to me. Understand?¡±


    His words caught a sharp glare from my father and an amusing chuckle from my mother. Truthfully, I didn¡¯t really feel the need to not tell them; nor did I feel the need to ever disclose it for shits and giggles. The chances of them even understanding the concepts of my dormant affinities were hilariously slim, after all, so the question never even crossed my mind. Regardless, I nodded my affirmations so that he could continue.


    ¡°Good.¡± He smiled with a resolute nod. ¡°Now, as I was saying. Our Sorcery comes in many lesser forms for the extended family, ranging from poison to ink. On our side, there are three tiers to our power. The lowest is darkness, something we all possess. Your father solely. I and you are in possession of its evolved form- Death, an affinity only some of our ancestors were privy to. But from what I feel within you, you have something far greater than each of those affinities combined. Something far more ominous than even death. I see within you, Amun, a core as dark as the abyss itself. So tell me what it is.¡±


    "Void,¡± I replied simply.


    ¡°Void?¡± My father recoiled in shock.


    Grandpa instead quickly stood tall and looked to the sky with his hand on his chin while muttering to himself. ¡°The void. Yes... if death kills whatever it touches, the void magic reduces it to nothingness. Erases it completely from existence. The soul and even the spirit. Amazing!¡± He let out an amazed; or despairing chuckle before looking back at me with newfound vigor. ¡°I will teach you everything I know about our darkness; as well as everything I¡¯m currently able to about death. And in time, I¡¯ll attempt to train you in this void magic.¡±


    ¡®Yeah, right!¡¯ I laughed internally. ¡®How, if this is the first time you¡¯ve ever seen it? You probably just want to study my magic, old man.¡¯


    ¡°You can read the specifics later.¡± He continued. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a basic explanation of everything beforehand, and then we¡¯ll begin our hands-on lessons.¡± He then said, moving away from my parents to the other side of the platform. ¡°Mana and Elemental Manipulation. I¡¯m sure you can feel it all around you. Dense energy, much like water or air swirling among us? Close your eyes and feel for it.¡±


    ¡°I feel it.¡± I quickly replied, invoking another sly grin from my mother and a shocked glance from my father.


    ¡°That is what we call mana.¡± Grandpa continued without pause. ¡°There are three things you must know regarding mana and how it interacts with your body. Mana Wells. Mana Pores. And Mana Tolerance.


    ¡°That glowing ¡®heart¡¯ within yourself is your Mana Well. A spiritual organ that automatically stockpiles and condenses mana inside your body. The size of your well is determined at birth and can only be expanded via various items or more¡­ drastic measures.


    ¡°Mana Pores on the other hand.¡± He continued after a short but awkward pause. ¡°Are analogous to the rate at which mana seeps into your Well. Your rate of mana recovery, in other words. And lastly, Mana Tolerance is representative of the density of ambient mana you¡¯re able to dwell in comfortably. Here in the Deapou Empire, the ambient levels are relatively average.


    ¡°These three things are at the center of magic for us humans.¡± Grandpa declared. ¡°They are what allows us to manipulate mana. And through understanding those fundamentals, oneself, and the nature of their affinities; one can become a great mystic. With weapons, armor, potions, and enchantments one could gain an edge over their peers. But only with determination, courage, and sacrifice can you rise to the top. Understand?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± I resolutely nodded. ¡°I understand.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± He grunted. ¡°Now, as I¡¯ve said. All humans possess the ability to manipulate the elements. This is a physical ability, accomplished by interacting with the mana around us. As such, the aptitude an individual has for any particular element varies. Many who are smarter than I believe it¡¯s dependent on your personality. That said, I believe air or water would be a good fit for you, Amun. Try using the surrounding mana to do what I do.¡±


    At his words, he held out the palm of his hand and after a moment, mana began to be pulled to the center of his hand, seemingly dragging the air into a small vortex along with it.


    ¡°Reach out with your mind and grab hold of the mana as if it were an extension of your limbs.¡± He somewhat loudly instructed over the softly whistling wind. ¡°Visualize the effect you wish to make and use the mana to bend and twist the elements to your desired form.¡±


    Following his archaic directions, I focused on first the ambient energy swarming around the environment before dragging it to my palm with my mind. Spinning it clockwise as it came into my hand. At that point, the mana subtly surged towards the center of my palm, dragging a small portion of air along with it that sent a small breeze through my fingers.


    ¡°Not bad for a first try.¡± Father nodded slowly as if he were impressed.


    Grandpa on the other hand, only grunted as if he were disappointed before walking off. ¡°Keep practicing until you get it right.¡± He waved behind his back. ¡°I¡¯ll check on you come sundown.¡±


    With that, my father gave me a reassuring smile and told me good job before trotting off behind him. Leaving my mother and me to stand in the peaceful silence of the night.


    <<We are elves, Amun.>> She said slowly after a few moments. A wise gleam shone in her eyes as she looked skyward. <<Our connection is with mana, not nature. You will get your breakthrough in time. Be patient.>>


    Ah.


    <<Yes, Mother.>> I nodded. <<Thank you.>>

 7 - Stop Listening

    The next few days were far more exciting than anything I¡¯d experienced in my lives thus far.


    Evidently, my position was formally recognized by the citizenry after my fifth birthday, allowing me much more leeway than I ever had before. Instead of being under the constant supervision of my parents, I was shadowed by my caretaker, Jonet. Much to my joy, however, she mostly trailed far behind me wherever I went without so much as a hint of emotion. Be it in the indoor courtyard to train or while aimlessly wandering the estate. Everywhere I went, she followed. Save for my ventures through the Shadowfell. At which times she¡¯d wander about the estate at a brisk pace, searching for wherever I was most likely to appear.


    As much as my privileges grew, however, I was still locked out of a third of the house until Telin knew when. Still, through my ventures around my still-small world, I managed to learn that the estate was primarily a linear structure of wood and stone that stretched north to south along the edge of a cliff. Aesthetically, the buildings appeared like ancient Asian castles constructed atop stone foundations. The interior, on the other hand, was fashioned in the same baroque aesthetic as my nursery. Polished stone floors and walls adorned with paintings and tapestries and busts made from presumably the finest hands in these lands.


    On the far northern end was a hub or wing that I wasn¡¯t allowed entry to. A formal hub, in the words of Jonet. A place intended for nobles, guests, or people coming to pay their tributes to my father.


    After learning such things, I expressed a significant lack of desire in exploring that part of the estate and turned the rest of my attention toward exploring my growing world and discovering the inner workings of magic.


    Separating the formal hub from the rest of the estate was a vast and elaborate outdoor courtyard that contained everything from Japanese gardens encased in snow to greenhouses to statues to stone mazes.


    On the eastern end of the estate was the nursery in which I was born and, up until that point, raised. The service wing was nearly twice the length of my nursery. Containing the living quarters for all the tenders as well as the pantry, laundry facilities, and other dedicated rooms needed to keep such a large household running. Perpendicular to my nursery and half of the service wing was a private courtyard that mostly contained a large lake that poured underneath the eastern end of the estate and over the edge of a sheer cliff. On its shore was a modest cabin that had once been the residence of my mother and father. Though with me being here, it¡¯s been largely abandoned. Leaving the vacant structure to be slowly reclaimed by nature.


    The final wing of the estate that I had access to was what I assumed to be a training hall of sorts. A vast indoor courtyard that¡¯d been landscaped and gardened to the point that it was indistinguishable from the boreal lands outside. It had to be well over a hundred meters to each side, making it by far the largest portion of the estate. Expanding my petri dish by a relatively large margin. It was hot and humid inside like a summer day and a harsh yellow light splayed from all sides like the sun had multiplied and scattered across the walls. Vibrantly accentuating the vibrant green of the abundant flora around me.


    It contained everything from grassy fields to forest meadows. Lakes and rivers and what looked like the face of a cliff on the entire right wall. And at its center was the same platform of volcanic rock that my grandfather took me for my first magical lessons.


    The place where the majority of my time was spent.


    In those days, my routine consisted of finishing my nightly meditation; or waking up in some cases, just before dusk to freshen up and get dressed. Unsettlingly, Jonet was always present at my door when I left the nursery for the service wing for breakfast and conversation with Gerolt. Through our talks, I learned that he¡¯s not only a chef and a hunter but a fisherman as well. And that he had a lot to say about the surrounding areas and their local fauna.


    What one would expect from a boreal forest. Moose, deer, and elk. Lynxes, wolves, wolverines, bears, and even a few tigers. And hares, owls, and beavers.


    What was more interesting was the fact that I was able to gain some much-wanted information regarding the local topography. Specifically, in that the Cole Estate was located on the western end crescent-shaped island that housed all the royalty of the Deapou Empire, Deap Ridge. The Emperor and his family lived on the eastern end of the island, while at the center was the Iron Mountain. A neutral zone of sorts that was both a port city and the political capital of our dual empire.


    According to Gerolt¡¯s map, the mainland sat just across the sea to the north. Deapou Island was a mass of land shaped much like a speech bubble on the map. Complete with jagged coasts sprawling the entirety of the outline that indicated hundreds of inlets, coves, and bays. And on its southeastern end, a tapered peninsula extended out into the sea. Pointing towards the next closest continent, Epeth. The largest landmass in our world of Maru.


    Our rivals, evidently.


    After my breakfast and evening chat with Gerolt, I would meet Grandpa Lich in the indoor courtyard for his lessons on mana and elemental manipulation, which was essentially just him repeating the same things over and over again for a few minutes before leaving me to work in silence.


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    Following that, the majority of the evening and night would pass without issue. I¡¯d practice mana manipulation. Then elemental manipulation. Succeed at one. Fail at the other. Take a break and form theories, then repeat the process all over again.


    Despite my failure to meet my grandfather''s standards, I had yet to grow frustrated. Perhaps it was my sorcery that kept me coldly rational. Or perhaps it was due to the understanding that Grandpa Lich wasn¡¯t as separated in age from me as he thought.


    I couldn¡¯t say for sure.


    I could say for sure that, half-drow or not, I¡¯d have moved to a more nocturnal schedule shortly after being born. Even in my past life, there was always a peaceful stillness to the night that I thoroughly enjoyed. The temperatures were cooler, most animals were sleeping. As was the constantly bustling society that the humans of earth created. And most of all, be it out of fear or them simply minding their own business; people left me alone at night.


    In many ways, nothing changed in this life. Many nights in the past were spent researching, studying, practicing, training, tinkering, or gaming until the sun came up. The only difference now was that I lived under a new sun. That, and I had a new field to study to my heart''s content. Magic.


    Like anything else, manipulating and sensing mana became easier over time. Not only could I see it if I focused, but I also began to passively feel the energy around me after following my mothers'' advice by taking a few hours outside my somnolent needs to meditate.


    Through my will and concentration alone, I could freely move raw mana around me after just a week. I learned that the manipulation of the energy became finer with the aid of hand movements, greatly increasing what I¡¯d already learned in manipulating the dynamic energy. Yet I still saw little to no progress in manipulating the elements.


    Much like Grandpa Lich said, interacting with mana was a matter of reaching out with the mind. To form a connection with the ambient energy and merge it with an imagined result- a palm-sized vortex, in this case. Still, after all this time, I could only manage a slightly stronger breeze to blow over my hand.


    Not much of a difference from my first attempt.


    ¡°Ugh.¡± Grandpa groaned. ¡°Are you even listening to me? It¡¯s been nearly a month and you still haven¡¯t grasped it!¡±


    ''Yeah, I am listening.'' I mentally rolled my eyes at him storming off. ''Maybe that¡¯s the problem.


    ''Wait.''


    ''No. That is the problem.'' I was listening to the ramblings of an old geezer when I should¡¯ve been listening to the literal god of this world.


    According to Telin¡¯s words coming forth from my Eternal Eye, an individual¡¯s capacity for magic was dependent on the user''s imagination coupled with their understanding of the affinity in question. In the context of elemental manipulation, mana couldn¡¯t be transmuted into air, fire, or water. It was simply an engine- a tool that allowed a human to probe air, fire, or water into behaving how it would naturally behave under given conditions.


    It was using mana to create a fuel source and friction for combustion. It was condensing the air to form bubbles of water. It was squeezing the ground to force out a boulder or pillar of stone. It was guiding the flow of air using pressure differentials.


    All of this meant that instead of using mana to drive the air into my hand, I needed to use mana to make the conditions right for air to move into it on my own. With that in mind, I held out my palm before me, ready to test my hypothesis with newfound vigor.


    I visualized what I wanted to happen before attempting to take hold of the mana around my hand. Like I grabbed hold of it with my mind; as strange as that sounded or felt to me. I imagined using the energy to create a region of low pressure just above my palm and in one smooth motion, I spread the blue smog of energy outward from my palm to force the air back. In turn, causing my hand to numb and tingle as if being probed by a thousand needles.


    I released the mana in my hand before the swelling began, forcing a modest breeze past my face from the displaced air rushing to fill the pocket and implode above my hand. Echoing a balloon¡¯s pop echoed throughout the otherwise quiet courtyard.


    Grinning wide from the results of my experiment, I quickly refocused on the mana to again manipulate the air around me. Instead, this time, I focused on increasing or decreasing the air pressure in certain areas. A method that I found to be a far simpler endeavor than how my grandfather instructed me.


    Regardless, he was correct in his assumption that air magic would be the easiest for me. By nearly sunrise, I was able to produce fairly strong gales of wind or up to three, palm-sized cyclones within a five-meter radius.


    The glee and pride of my sudden success drove me to continue with the other elements and attempt to master them as well before returning before Grandpa Lich. Pushing me to spend my first all-day-er in this life.


    With my Eternal Eye bringing my knowledge of fluid dynamics and the properties of water to the forefront of my mind, I moved to the lake near the indoor ¡®cliff¡¯ and focused on the large, literally golden fish swimming on the far side near the water''s edge. From roughly ten meters away, I reached forth with mana to grip a sizable portion of the puddle from the surface and suspend it in the air.


    ¡®As I thought.¡¯ I grinned wide as I reached my arm forward before sweeping out. And with only a slight delay, a tendril emerged from the amorphous blob of water to mimic my motions.


    Gently spreading and opening my hands, I smoothly pulled my arms up toward my shoulders over and over again. Amassing more and more water into a shaky blob suspended a meter above the water. In time, its surface rippled. Toiled at an ever-greater rate as it increased in mass and eventually came to strain my mind until I lost hold of the voluminous blob and crashed just as hard as the echoes of the splash.


    By then the sun was cresting over the eastern walls of the house, casting yellow-orange lights through the ventilation windows near the ceiling. And almost immediately, my mood began to sour.


    Throwing in the proverbial towel, I looked down at my shadow before hopping into it. Plunging me into the cold embrace of the shadow realm where I swam through the now dilapidated courtyard and past the ghostly visage of Jonet, nearly jogging back to the service wing.

 8 - Avatar Amun

    After another day of meditating and a ''lecture¡¯ from Grandpa Lich after breakfast, I dove back into training. Back into spending the entirety of the night manipulating and familiarizing myself with water.


    Like the night before, I practiced grabbing hold of larger and larger masses of water and worked on streaming the fluid back towards me; aiming to snake it around my body or have it take up any number of forms. Yet, no matter how much I tried, manipulating without the aid of at least the hands was next to impossible.


    Following that, I moved to what I assumed were more advanced forms of water manipulation- siphoning water from the ambient air and plants to condense it before me. Techniques that I soon grew competent in after several hours of training; giving me more than enough confidence to move on to the next element for the last hour of training.


    Surprisingly, that hour was all I needed to learn fire manipulation. Which was by far the most complicated in theory, but the simplest in practice. It only required me to condense a ball of mana as a fuel source before grinding the energy together as if it were sandpaper. Producing a small spark that would readily ignite. From there, heat and oxygen would take care of the rest.


    Learning earth manipulation the following night was when I learned just how misguided Grandpa Lich''s teachings were. What he taught me was more applicable to manipulating the earth than any other element I¡¯ve manipulated. It involved reaching out with the mana as if it were a mental hand and gripping the earth with it. And much like water, molding it to the desired shape like one would with clay pottery.


    I spent hours pulling pillars and walls from the grounds, platforms, and walls of the courtyard; forming small depressions or crude growths in the most inconvenient of places as I experimented with compressing and reforming different types of stone.


    And of course, launching them across the yards.


    Instead of running to my grandfather as soon as I got a grasp on the four elements, I spent a few more days conducting experiment after experiment until I was truly satisfied. The first and most notable takeaway from them revolved around the fact that manipulating the elements without hand or body gestures wasn¡¯t impossible per se, but certainly too difficult to use in a combat scenario. Years- I assumed- if not decades of training were needed to get such a point. If it were even possible at all.


    Fortunately, time was something I had no shortage of in this life. So I dedicated a portion of my schedule to practice this¡­ Stoic Manipulation.


    That aside, I found manipulating higher concentrations of mana made for more powerful effects; as one would expect. High-pressure water, denser rock, hotter fire. More importantly, I quickly came to realize using two elements at once was much like my attempts at learning the piano in my past life: A struggle; at first, to simultaneously play two different strings of notes with each hand.


    Though I had ideas on how to take some of the elements to more complex levels, Grandpa Lich''s increasingly short attitude made his impatience with my slow progress more than clear. And so, a week after my breakthrough and just over a month after my training began, I leaped into the shadow realm just before dawn to seek him out.


    ***


    Everandus ''Necro King'' Cole.


    ***


    I¡¯d have been lying if I said I wasn¡¯t growing increasingly frustrated with Amun as the month passed anew. While his progress with simple elemental manipulation would have been enough for a commoner. It was abysmally slow for a royal, and not even worth mentioning for the half-elf he was.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Comprehending something was one thing. Applying it to the real world was another matter entirely. If he struggled to adapt to that fact of life now, I feared for what was ahead of him. Thus, I was less than a little optimistic when Amun came to me with news of a ¡®breakthrough.¡¯


    Though, I supposed I could have been to blame for his shortcomings. I never had been the best at manipulation either. At least I worked out a solution, however.


    ¡°I may as well tell you now.¡± I broke the throbbing silence of the shadow realm as I turned to face the boy. ¡°You may not have noticed, but you don¡¯t have any friends. Besides your stalker there.¡± I jerked my thumb to Eved¡¯s spider, scurrying through the halls toward the training court. ¡°The reason for that,¡± I sighed, ¡°is because your mother is very protective of you. That said, having friends is good for you. And as a royal, you¡¯ll need vassals and a knight to support you as well. Capable people that you can trust to take care of you throughout your journeys. Before long, I will introduce you to your first vassals. They will serve you for the rest of your lives. And more.¡±


    ¡°Where are they from?¡± The boy asked the instant I finished speaking without so much as a look my way. As intelligent as he was, that intellect came with an endless torrent of questions that I embarrassingly found myself frustrated to answer time and time again. Though deep in my heart, I knew that he held no ill intent. And more so that the more knowledgeable he was in his youth, the better off he¡¯d become in his older years.


    ¡°They¡¯re the finest students from my academy.¡± I boomed proudly. ¡°The finest boarding school in the mainland.¡±


    While he said nothing, I knew the wheels were turning under that perpetually placid gaze of his. And I knew there¡¯d be many questions regarding the institute at a later time. Thankfully, his thoughts were occupied with slipping through the shadow of a tree near the center platform of the training court.


    ¡°Friends are welcome.¡± He simply replied after returning to the physical realm. ¡°But if you intend to have them tutor me in magic or fighting, that¡¯s not necessary.¡±


    ¡®Tch! Arrogant brat.¡¯ I groaned internally. ¡°This better be worthwhile! It¡¯s past my bedtime, you know.¡±


    Amun only stayed silent and continued looking ahead as he walked beside me. He was surely a strange one. Filled with questions; undoubtedly intelligent. But cold and devoid of emotion like the void within him. And though he was blessed by mana; judging from what I¡¯d seen thus far, I had doubts that his blessings would bear any worthy fruit.


    ¡®Perhaps he¡¯ll be a great politician, like his father.¡¯ I sighed, attempting to shy the disappointment from my eyes as Amun turned to face me with his usual uncaring demeanor. Only to squint in scrutiny ever so subtly before turning his focus to his palm.


    What happened next was as remarkable as it was terrifying.


    A flame appeared above the center of his palm. Small, about the size of an iceberry. Yet intense and bright enough for me to feel the heat on my palm as I shielded my eyes from the light. An insignificant thing on its own. Yet, around that small inferno, Amun guided a squall around and around and upwards at speeds that made my coattails flap loudly behind me.


    Though I felt an initial push of mana against the wind after Amun conjured the flame, I could feel only the unbridled power of nature gathered in his palm. Churning and swelling and building up in volume until the surrounding trees were dwarfed and doused in the light of a blazing cyclone.


    Seeing the thing rise twice as high as myself, I attempted to shout; ¡°Enough!¡± Yet heard nothing but the screaming winds and raging fires mixed with the mad cackles of my great-grandson. ¡°Amun! That¡¯s enough!¡± I shouted again, forcing my way through the gale this time.


    Amun seemed to notice my struggle and let the flame die out in his hand, causing the cyclone to dissipate after a few seconds.


    ¡°Well?¡± Amun turned to me, smiling happily for the first time since we met. ¡°Do you still think I need a tutor?¡±


    ¡°No, son.¡± I sighed heavily in a meek attempt to quell my shame and amazement and irritation. ¡°Not for elemental manipulation, you don¡¯t. Excellent work. You''ve exceeded my expectations by leaps and bounds!¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± He bowed politely before standing tall and looking at me with those blank eyes. ¡°I still need friends, though.¡±


    Tch! ¡°You need sleep!¡± I spat as I moved toward the shadow of a nearby plant. ¡°I told you, your friends will come later. In two years. Sorcery training comes first. Your education comes after. Meet me in the realm at sundown.¡± I shouted over my shoulder as I stepped into the darkness to descend through the umbral expanse.


    And seconds later, I heard the distant echo of Amun¡¯s backtalk as he too entered the fell.


    ¡°Elves don¡¯t sleep.¡±

 9 - A New Mystery

    After showing Grandpa Lich my progress, I stopped by the service wing for a quick meal before returning to my nursery to relax and meditate. Though, with my recent birthday it wasn¡¯t entirely viewed as a nursery anymore, rather than my residential wing.


    The bathroom and bed remained for my own needs while I was promised the rest of the wide room would be filled with whatever I desired. Though, there wasn¡¯t much on the list of things I wanted at the moment. So it was only filled with a table and a few chairs at the center. My playroom was much the same as before. Excepting the fact that half the floor had been replaced with wood panels while I was training one day and my desk had grown to fit my size.


    The only other addition was a walk-in closet filled with two more sets of my familial clothes, as well as empty chests and cabinets meant to hold bracelets and necklaces, and other pieces of jewelry I¡¯d never wear.


    As I did every night, I entered my room and closed the door behind me. And before too long, I heard Jonet¡¯s footsteps approach to stop next to the door, wherein she¡¯d wait for a few hours before walking off to retire for the day. Only to wake up and report straight to my door at dusk.


    She¡¯d never directly spoken to me. Though, I had never spoken to her either. Thus I was unsure what her job as a caretaker truly was. I imagined it was to follow me and pick up any messes I happened to make. The problem was, I wasn''t a messy person. I always cleaned up behind myself.


    In short, she had nothing to do.


    Shrugging such thoughts aside for a later time, I climbed on top of the bed and assumed the lotus position to begin meditating. I first cleared my mind, then regulated my breathing into a slow, steady cycle. And after reaching a certain state of calmness, I then turned my attention to the mana around me. Not to interact with it. Only feel it out. To observe as it moved around the ambient environment towards me and the dozens of enchanted items strewn about the room to be absorbed and somehow replaced with fresh energy in a never-ending cycle.


    This brought me to hypothesize that either the saturation of ambient mana was simply absurdly high and only appeared to be replaced instantly. That, or the energy was truly infinite and new mana was being replaced or created the moment a unit of mana was absorbed or transformed. Whatever a unit of mana even was.


    With Telin being a self-proclaimed god of science, I had doubts he¡¯d design a simple, infinite source of energy and be done with it. Though, I was also aware that could have simply been my biases speaking. If it were true, it meant that if I lived long enough, I¡¯d have to prepare for the possibility of magic ceasing to exist in this universe. As slim as the odds were that it¡¯d actually happen; I¡¯d have been a fool not to at least consider it and form a contingency. After all, it was always better to have and not need, than to need and not have.


    Before I began pondering on it post-meditation, however, my mother waltzed into my room to find me sitting at my desk, my chin resting on my clasped hands as I stared through the window.


    <<Congratulations on your breakthrough, My son. Your great-grandfather is thoroughly impressed.>>


    <<Thank you, Mother.>> I turned to her, giving her my best smile as I matched her sonorous words in kind. Though she saw right through it.


    <<Tell me of your mind.>>


    <<I think of mana and magic.>> I said. <<Of the strengths and weaknesses of being a half-drow Sorcerer.>>


    <<I can only tell you of our kind, My son.>> Mother gently said.


    <


    > I turned in my seat to face her.


    << Elves have senses far greater than humans, my son. With a nose like a canine; ears like a bat; eyes like a raptor. More so than these animals also.>> She added. <<Due to our attunement with mana enhancing our already potent senses. Our senses naturally focus on the mana surrounding the object of our focus. This grants us better clarity than other creatures.>>


    <<Incredible.>> I commented to myself. <<What else can we do?>>


    Mother¡¯s grin widened before she continued. Somewhat widening my own smile. << As elves, we¡¯re unable to be charmed and can assist our spells and arrow fire using mana. As denizens of the underground realms, we Drow have a slight connection with metallic ores and ferrous metals, much like dwarves; but to a much lesser degree. We can at least sense ore deposits hidden underground. Unlike dwarves, however, we¡¯re significantly lacking in excavating and smelting.


    <<However, all of this comes at a price.>> Mother assured me. <<While high-elves are indeed a bit stronger than humans and have a moderate resistance to magic. We drow are the weakest of the elves, physically. Yet retain the highest magical resistance of all elves. Because of this, the average strength of an elf is comparable to a goblin. Which itself is comparable to a strong human child. The physically strongest Drow are generally comparable to hobgoblins; or adult humans. On top of this.>> She added with a raised finger. <<We have an intense aversion to light. Like your superior dark vision, your light aversion may be compounded with your affinities to worsen your symptoms. So be careful in the light, my Son.>>


    <<I will, Mother.>> I nodded in thanks. Then turned towards the sound of a shuffle near the other side of the door. <<What can you tell me of Jonet?>> I turned back to my mother.


    <<She is your caretaker.>> She replied simply. <<She cleans if something needs cleaning. Cooks if something needs cooking. She will heal you in the event that you are injured. And look after you in the event of an emergency.>>


    <<Can she fight?>> I tactlessly asked.


    <<She is trained.>> Mother nodded. <<And she has been ordered to follow you, at least until you can protect yourself.>>


    <<So in a sense, she¡¯s my first vassal.>> I commented aloud.


    <<That¡¯s one perspective, yes.>> Mother nodded.


    In truth, my assumed bodyguard only motivated me to prove myself to her and Grandpa Lich so I could have some actual privacy. Though, my mother¡¯s words sparked within me a new obsession to fawn over. And so I couldn¡¯t help but ask. <<What can you tell me of healing magic?>>


    <<I am unable to teach you proper healing magic, my Son.>> Mother explained. <<What¡¯s commonly known as Recovery Magic is what Jonet knows. Your grandfather, or another, will be the one to teach you. But you must never attempt to use it without training.>> She sternly warned. Then, rose for the door before I could inquire more.


    <<Now, get some rest. And continue your training.>> She closed the door with a smile while I saw her off. Finally leaving me to my own devices.


    I decided that I¡¯d actually try and get some sleep. As I¡¯ve been training for days and began to feel mentally exhausted in ways meditation did nothing for.


    ---


    I awoke a few hours before midnight and immediately rolled out of bed for my wake-up routine before jumping into the shadow realm. And after a short ¡®swim¡¯ I was in the service wing to bother Gerolt while he cooked my meal and listen to him talk about his latest hunting venture


    "I''d like to come with you next time you go hunting,¡± I said through bites of steak and eggs.


    ¡°Really?¡± Gerolt¡¯s brow raised in tune with his increasing grin. ¡°I think I can arrange that for Your Grace.¡±


    ¡°Something more than just a single rabbit,¡± I added, pointing my fork knowingly. ¡°I need to build a nice foundation for my stock of provisions.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± Gerolt smiled. ¡°You have my word.¡±


    I nodded my affirmations, then gathered and washed my dishes before heading for the nearest shadow, smiling at Gerolt over my shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to it.¡±


    As always, I could see Jonet¡¯s ghostly figure following me through the material plane towards the training court and decided now was as good a time as any to talk to her. And so I approached her as soon as she passed through the threshold.


    ¡°My mother tells me you¡¯re a healer,¡± I said in response to her bow.


    ¡°I¡¯m only trained in recovery magic, Your Grace.¡± She apologetically shook her head.


    ¡°What can you tell me of recovery magic?¡±


    ¡°It accelerates the natural healing of the patient.¡± She calmly yet clearly recited something from a book. Not that I held it against her. ¡°In exchange for fatigue, minor wounds can be healed. Life-threatening wounds demands the transfer of life from another living being; allowing them to take the inflicted wounds of the patient. Else, the patient¡¯s life span will be shortened significantly.¡±


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Jesus,¡± I commented aloud.


    She shook her head in confusion but otherwise said nothing. She only looked at me expectantly as if she were waiting for something. And so I asked her what she knew of proper healing magic.


    ¡°As far as I¡¯m aware, healing magic refers to the spells developed by someone with an affinity with healing potential. The most common are those with affinities for fire or water.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded, scratching my chin to register the data in my actual mind before turning back to her. ¡°And what affinity do you have?¡±


    ¡°Ice, Your Grace.¡± She formally bowed.


    ¡®That explains the eyes, I guess.¡¯ I commented to myself before saying. ¡°You may have been ordered to be my caretaker, but I need you to be my first vassal. My first friend.¡±


    She blushed a little and began visibly fighting the urge to look around in an attempt to hide her smile.


    ¡°As my vassal.¡± I continued after the short pause, bringing her embarrassment under control again. ¡°The most important things are that you¡¯re able to protect yourself and that you¡¯re well educated. I do not need a protector, nor will I protect you. You must grow as strong as possible and learn to protect yourself. So, make sure to train with your ice magic and elemental manipulation instead of just staring at me train all day.¡±


    I tried to give her a reassuring smile before jumping off in the shadows to meet up with Grandpa Lich. But my words were nothing but the truth. Before or after I awakened the rest of my cores, I had no intention of ever relying on another for protection. And I realized long ago that not everyone could be protected. That aside, I¡¯d long since been theorizing how to best use the abilities Telin gifted me and had worked out multiple forms of passive defense that would make it difficult for me to be harmed, if not touched.


    In short, my main goal was to become un-fuck-with-able. Yet, if I were to have followers in this life, they needed to be as capable as possible in all facets of life so that they could operate independently while I pursued more... important matters. Whatever they wind up being. Thus the first objective on that list was to spend the next few years working to become as magically proficient as possible before I was a bit older and could begin training up my body without the risk of stunting my growth.


    I was hardly over five years old, after all. And while that was the same age monks often began training, I was half-drow. Thus I assumed it¡¯d be best to wait a bit longer for my vassals to arrive so I could train them myself.


    After descending into the Shadowfell and taking a look around, I saw Grandpa Lich¡¯s ghostly figure waiting for me above the decrepit platform of volcanic stone.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed them, Amun.¡± He grunted upon my emergence in the material plane, wasting no time to get to his lecture. ¡°The growth attached to your mana well and the words appearing in your vision?¡±


    ¡®How could I not.¡¯ I snorted internally. ¡®A big abyssal leech attached to my Well. Even a blind man could see it.¡¯ Nodding as stood in place before him. I spoke slowly, hearing my voice echo through the throbbing silence of the Shadowfell. ¡°I have.¡±


    ¡°That is your Affinity Core. With that, the mana within your Well will automatically have its attribute changed to that of the void or any of its derivatives. All you have to do is guide it through. Try it now. Bring out your shadow magic by having your mana skim through a thin layer of your Affinity Core.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± I nodded. Then closed my eyes to focus on what felt like my ethereal second body. The ¡®heart¡¯ at its center; my mana well, had grown in tune with my developing body but was still the same relative size- slightly larger than my heart. And below it was the black growth that was my affinity core.


    As directed, I began withdrawing the mana from my well. Almost immediately, it drew it toward the core on its own accord and funneled into the abyssal organ like water going down a drain. Once there, something seemed to click in my mind. It felt almost like growing a new limb. A magical limb that I¡¯ve had since birth, but had been unaware of its existence until now. Like an amorphous hand that was the affinity core itself; the attributed mana leaking out of it akin to its digits. Writhing with energy on that bean-shaped island of abyssal energy.


    Studying it closer, I realized the core was in actuality, composed of three distinct layers or individual cores that were neatly separated. Viscous darkness sat closest to the well, waiting like a faceless maw. Death, with an aura like the shadows, infused with a wicked smokey aura sat in the middle. And the head, the numbing emptiness of the void.


    After pulling mana out of the shadow core, I saw a black foggy cloud spread throughout my second body while a vacant cold simultaneously spread from my diaphragm outward. Opening my eyes, I bore witness to the same, smokey trails of pure darkness pooling off of my body and rolling across the floor into an ever-widening shadow.


    It was, for lack of a better word, fascinating. Like a dense, ethereal fog of darkness that felt like an extension of my body itself. Be it spread around me or pooled into my hand, the shadows felt like a type of exotic matter that was metastable in its triple point. Gaseous like the energy seeping from my body and yet amorphous like an inky, viscous liquid. Yet still solid and malleable enough to grasp and mold into any form like dough.


    ¡°The power of darkness and shadows precedes death.¡± Grandpa Lich explained, forcing me back to the present. ¡°Or, to use an old quote- ¡®If our death is born from the Underworld; our darkness stems from its gates.¡¯ The effect it has on living creatures isn¡¯t particularly useful for direct combat, but it''s the perfect affinity for a rogue.¡± He grinned wickedly. ¡°Its most obvious use is stealth and espionage. So long as we¡¯re in darkness, we can remain unseen and unheard without even stepping into the shadow realm. And when compromised, the true power of darkness can be used.


    ¡°Fear!¡± He declared after a dramatic pause. ¡°To nearly all, an unnatural cold will come upon those who roam in our night. Followed by uneasiness, intense dread, or panic. Lethargy. Even fatigue. Fear and uncertainty are the power of the shadows, Amun. Use it smartly and wisely.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡± I bowed.


    He grinned wide at my response as if he¡¯d suddenly won the lottery. Then continued with newfound vigor. ¡°The second item of today¡¯s lesson revolves around the visions I mentioned earlier- your Grimoire. While you¡¯re most likely familiar with the wallet function, its main use is to catalog the spells you¡¯ll develop over time. It¡¯s an invaluable tool that¡¯ll record the intricate processes of rituals or elaborate spells as you learn them. It will allow you to relearn spells in the event you ever forget them. It¡¯ll make it easier to cast documented spells. And most importantly, it¡¯ll give your most proficient spells the chance to evolve over time.¡±


    While he was talking, I went ahead and pulled out my grimoire. And judging from his missing reaction, I gathered that it was something that only I could see. As it nearly put me in shock.


    Unlike my wallet, which was simply a banner that appeared at the top of my vision with the slightest thought. My grimoire was a blank and abyssal spot in reality like the void within me. Yet, I was able to see ridged edges, ruffled trims, and the finely stenciled lines of an actual book floating before me; fanning its vacant pages to the cover, wherein my name and ever-growing gold were neatly annotated in the common language.


    ¡°Your grimoire will automatically order itself according to your spells and affinities.¡± Grandpa Lich continued. ¡°To add spells to your grimoire, you must first develop or learn one. Then practice casting to grow proficient before you finally name the spell.¡±


    ¡°So, my time will be spent developing my own spells.¡± I nodded in comprehension.


    ¡°Not quite.¡± Grandpa grinned. ¡°Before that, I will teach you each of the basic spells before we move on to giving you a grasp on death and void. For the first spell, I want you to gather shadow mana within you before evenly distributing it around us as far as you can. A basic Domain Spell.¡±


    Hiding my excitement, I quickly begin pulling mana through the shadow core and gathering the soupy ethereal mass between my hands. With the passing of several seconds, the energy began to drip and pool at my feet, making me feel I had a little more than enough concentrated. So I imagined an explosion forcing the darkness to spread to the largest radius possible before releasing the energy between my hands.


    ***


    Jonet Fischer.


    ***


    ''Protect him. Monitor his progress. Cater to his needs, and report only to Ebbet and myself.''


    Those were the four orders, Her Grace, Eved, gave to me before His Grace, Amun began taking instruction from High King Cole. Despite the honor such a task would bring to my family and I, I was scared at first. Initially due to the potential arrogance of a royal child. But then as a result of overhearing His Majesty''s talk of the void mixed with the memories of my first experience with magic. All combined, it made me more than apprehensive to get close to him.


    I was glad he kept me at a distance. But back there, I saw how different His Grace, Amun, was.


    For starters, he asked of nothing from me; not even passively. I couldn¡¯t recall a single time I had to make his bed, clean up after his meals or pursue some odd request. I only followed him and watched him eat, train, and returned to his room to sleep. Day after day after day with not much else in between.


    At first, it was a blessing: A caretaker with a responsible host. But that quickly grew to boredom. And then frustration as His Grace took to frequenting the shadows more often. I began to feel as if he enjoyed having me search around the estate for him. But then he began to learn elemental manipulation.


    Though I¡¯d never say it aloud, Amun had a lousy teacher. Thus his progress was as slow as mine had been, despite him being royalty. But then something seemed to click. And to this day, I know not if I was awestruck or terrified when I laid my eyes on that infernal cyclone. Twisting and churning up towards the ceiling while its wielder smiled and laughed in wicked satisfaction.


    After witnessing such a thing, I had no idea what to expect the night Amun began to learn of his darkness. Thus I stood idly as far back as I could. As far as the entrance of the training court. So far I had to strain my eyes to focus on his small figure holding a cloud of pure darkness in his hands.


    Watching His Grace work on his own affinity made me think about his words regarding mine. I¡¯d have been lying if I claimed I had no impressions other than brash overconfidence and naivety after hearing his earlier words. But I couldn¡¯t help but feel in my heart; then and now, that his words were no mere boast.


    And so I found myself refocused. Fully attuned to the progress of His Grace, Amun of Odissi.


    After receiving a bit of instruction from His Majesty, His Grace refocused on his hands. And soon after, the dense pocket of darkness surrounding his hands began to swell.


    Then, all changed.


    I knew not what happened in those moments. In a split second, my awareness had been reduced to but a single thought. a realization that the light; all light, had disappeared. No other thoughts crossed my mind, and no senses were picked up by my body. There was only my soul, trapped in that overbearing darkness with a cold so deep it my ice magic feel like lava. It was as if everything had simply disappeared from existence in an instant. All but my senses. Existing in a nauseating rush of sensation. Damnable cold in my soul. Metal in my mouth. A bloody roar in my head. Hissing echoes of my lungs. Bangs and thumps of the heart; rushing and racing at an ever-increasing pace until it became a persistent hum- a pitch- a whine that grew louder and louder until my mind could no longer take it.


    And I screamed.


    ---


    After an indiscernible length of time had passed, the grass under my knees, the air, the courtyard; light itself, returned.


    Coming to my senses, I realized I was down on my knees as if I¡¯d fainted and quickly rose to my feet, looking around the courtyard for His Grace.


    ¡°Apologies.¡± His voice came from behind me. And I turned to see him bowing slightly at the waist with hints of amusement written over his semi-apologetic mask. ¡°That was an accident.¡±

 10 - Reading Material.

    Holy shit.


    After expanding my domain of shadows, I could see¡­ everything. The entirety of the training court, Jonet trembling near the door and halfway into the service wing. Wherever I wished within the radius and from whatever angle I wanted, the entirety of my domain bared all for me to see in the gray-on-gray rendering of darkvision. And like the shadow realm, I could move freely around the space as I pleased.


    ¡°AHHHHHH!¡±


    I saw it before I heard it- the increasing panic preceding Jonet¡¯s bloodcurdling scream. She was practically fainting by the time I swam through the darkness to try and dissipate the spell.


    Within a second or two of moving next to her and absorbing the darkness, the umbral cloud in her immediate surroundings began breaking apart like a handful of soap bubbles popping in slow motion. Allowing the pale light of the training court to once again shine on our surroundings.


    ¡°Apologies,¡± I said, attempting to hide the excessive pride from my face. ¡°That was an accident.¡±


    She regained her composure with a deep breath and fully turned to me before bowing. ¡°Thank you, Your Grace. However, there is no need to apologize. I will be fine.¡±


    ¡®Sure.¡¯ I shrugged to myself before turning back to Grandpa Lich.


    He had a wide grin on his face that remained until I stood before him, wherein he knelt to give me a vigorous rub on the top of the head. Much to my contempt. ¡°I couldn¡¯t even make a domain that large until I was ten years old!¡± He bellowed proudly. ¡°I see you becoming a great Sorcerer in the future. A Magus, even!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a Magus?¡± I asked, desperate to pry as much information as I could from the sly old man.


    He bared his palms before me, grinning wide before flooding them with mana. Mere seconds later, a scroll made of some type of solid black ashen smoke unfurled before his palm.


    ¡°Magus Everandus ''Necro King'' Cole.¡± I read a little slowly, as I was still ¡®learning.¡¯ "Evolved, 60th Step combined. Barbarian. Paladin. Sorcerer. What¡¯s all this mean?¡± I asked with semi-ignorance. If it was anything like the ranking systems from the various media on the outside, that meant Grandpa Lich was ridiculously overpowered.


    Like many other hypotheses, however, that was based entirely on my preconceived notions. I needed to know more. Both of magic and of this world.


    ¡°Magus is my rank seen by the Guild Association. It is the highest attainable rank, afforded to only a few in the realms.¡± He proudly declared. ¡°Evolved refers to my spirit. Something you will gain at the Arcane Institute. As for the last part.¡± He sighed. ¡°Those are my Classes. Things you will also obtain at the institute. I have fulfilled all the tasks of my three classes. Hence the 60th step.


    ¡°In other words, it shows others how powerful and great I am!¡± He arrogantly boasted. ¡°But you¡¯ll learn about that later. First.¡± He paused to groan as he reached into the shadow beneath him to withdraw a stack of three textbooks and a rolled scroll. ¡°You are to read these and come back to me with what you¡¯ve learned.¡±


    I contained my grin as I took my time reading over the spines to peruse the contents of my new collection. Prompting a heavy, impatient sigh to escape my grandfather¡¯s lips.


    ¡°Remember what we spoke of, Amun.¡± He growled. ¡°You can fool anyone; even your father, but not me. You have one week to learn this tome.¡± He held up the scroll. ¡°And one month for each of these books.¡±


    ''Dammit.''


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡± I nodded, trying not to sarcastically drag on the word for too long before squatting down to begin placing the texts in my shadow pocket.


    While I was putting on an act in vain, I was undoubtedly excited to be able to finally get my hands on some noteworthy reading material. With my Eternal Eye, it was by far the fastest way to absorb information. Making things like schools or tutors entirely obsolete for me. Though that did pose a question for whenever my education inevitably began. Hopefully, I could prove to my parents that instructors weren¡¯t necessary, only textbooks or other documents coupled with some type of condensed education. Leaving me an abundance of time to train my body and magic.


    And my vassals as well.


    With my bounty of knowledge secured, my grandfather gave me a complacent grin before turning off to step into the darkness. Seconds later, I did much the same and saw him floating toward the formal wing of the house- the region reserved for guests. Wanting nothing to do with the place, I swam past Jonet scurrying off toward my room and crawled out from the shadows under my bed with books in hand to read the rest of the night away.


    Even with my training regimen, my need for sleep was only around four hours for one or two days per week now. Otherwise, it was meditating for the same length of time before I stirred awake fully rested. Which; even without the Eternal Eye, gave me more than enough time to extensively read through the books and learn as much as I could about this strange world.


    The three books he gave me were focused on mana and its interactions with various physiologies; affinity cores; and basic spellcasting. The latter of which I was particularly excited about. But I wrestled my haste to the ground and went through the books in order.


    The book regarding mana contained far more information than I¡¯d guessed it would. In addition to the descriptions I was already aware of- that mana was a fluid much like gas or water that existed everywhere in different densities- there were more detailed explanations of the aspects of mana and its interactions with the body that Grandpa Lich skipped entirely.


    Mana Pores were, as the name suggested, pores that would open or close to regulate the flow of mana traveling into an individual¡¯s mana well, thus determining the rate of mana recovery in that individual. Like the brain preventing the body from biting itself hard enough to draw blood- if you were sane- one¡¯s mana pores would never take in more mana than the well could handle. Under normal circumstances at least.


    They were more or less fixed at the time of birth and could only be expanded by either expensive potions or acclimatizing to a mana-dense environment. And they were scaled numerically- with .01 being the smallest size possible for a given species, granting a faint trickle of mana into their core. On the contrary, 1 was the largest radius possible for that species. For humans, the average range was between .45 and .6.


    ¡®So.¡¯ I began to internally hypothesize. ¡®Perhaps that implies that an elf with Pores rated at .45 would probably have a higher rate of mana recovery than a human with a wider pore radius. But how much wider?¡¯


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Setting my question aside for a later time, I went on to the next section about Mana Tolerance and Mana Fatigue. Which referred to two phenomena. First was the pain, fatigue, and sanity loss one would experience in an area with denser mana than that found in their well. I interpreted it as mana crushing someone in much the same way the Venusian atmosphere would. Minus the heat. The second phenomenon was akin to a sort of magical fatigue. Where; regardless of the radius of one¡¯s pores, the constant circulation of mana on the well caused the spiritual organ itself to tire. Causing magical burnout.


    More interesting to me, however, were the effects of both too much and too little mana. If one were to cast too many spells and deplete their well faster than it could replenish, they¡¯d experience excruciating levels of pain and fatigue until their Well recharged. If they were burnt out and still tried to cast in vain, those spells came with a large risk of stroke or cardiac arrest. And without the presence of mana in the Well at all, each spell cast would consume the life energy of the caster. Too much mana on the other hand, and the body would become oversaturated with energy. And much like an electrical current, the wire; or body in such case, would short circuit.


    Mana Wells, on the other hand, were more or less described just as I¡¯d observed them over time. All but confirming just one of my hypotheses: Like its namesake, it was a cylindrical object said to be housed within the Spirit, only capped on both ends like a can of soup. Through those pages, however, I learned that the ¡®walls¡¯ of these cans- Mana Pores- constantly circulated mana in and out of the Well. A phenomenon most notably perceived by the sentient races as the ''emission of mana from all living things.''


    While potions, enchantments and sometimes armor could act as a quasi-second mana well or temporarily boost one''s own, it was generally considered impossible to expand the Well permanently. And like Pores, mana wells varied from species to species in terms of depth and density; and were alphanumerically ranked by the civilized races.


    The size of a Well was numerically ranked from 1 to 12. At 1, a Well will be the smallest size possible to sustain life for that particular species. The smallest well of a plant would be akin to a grain of sand while the smallest human mana well was around the size of a bottlecap, allowing for only a single powerful spell or a handful of weaker ones before exhausting completely. 12, on the other hand, would be slightly larger than that creature¡¯s heart. Much like my own.


    On the other end, the density of a Mana Well was determined by the visual appearance of the energy within and was represented by letters. A Mist Well was at the lowest end of the spectrum; and among humans, this demographic consisted of those who could only manipulate the elements for practical matters. Roughly a quarter of the population. A Water Well consisted of those who were still unable to utilize higher forms of magic but could at least train to use their natural manipulation abilities for self-defense. They comprised the majority of the population.


    A Slush Well was akin to the concentration of mana within my abode- a fluid held between the liquid and solid phases. Creatures with a well of this density were said to be touched by mana and were capable of using higher forms of magic. They were your average magical creature or lower-ranked mythical beast with superpowered levels of strength mixed with the humans born with affinity cores and those who awakened cores later in life- known to civilized races as Mystics. Conversely, those who were loved by mana had an Ice Well, generally bringing them on par with the strongest magical beasts or your average mythical creatures. As such, a well-trained mystic with an Ice Well of average size was capable of single-handedly defending a city from a platoon of magic beasts. Or destroying that city altogether.


    At the far end of the spectrum were Diamond Wells. Wells that had mana at such a density that it appeared as a crystal. Creatures with Diamond Wells were described to be the nobles or royals of the humanoid realms, high-level demons, a vast majority of elves, and ancient entities or divine beasts. Regardless of species, they were all said to be regarded as living deities or walking calamities. Singular entities, possessing the power to permanently change an entire region.


    ¡®Interesting.¡¯ I nodded to myself after closing the book. There was a mystery to be discovered here, I was sure of it. So I immediately delved into analyzing what I¡¯d just read with my Eternal Eye to see if any logical holes could be brought to the forefront of my mind.


    After perusing through each line and remembering Grandpa Lich''s words on the subject, a few things stood out to me. Aside from the likely overdramatization, of course. First, was that it was never stated by either him or the book that one couldn¡¯t induce their mana well to increase in size. The words were, ''generally impossible.'' Not ''impossible.'' A subtle but not insignificant distinction. Second, Grandpa Lich''s hesitation when he initially told me of Mana Wells. ¡®More drastic measures,¡¯ were his words. The last data point was that he himself told me that his spirit was evolved. Though not entirely his mana well, it was what his well dwelled in. That had to mean something.


    At a fundamental level, however, these points of data definitely implied that it was possible to expand one''s mana well. If at great risk. The only question was, ''How?''


    ¡®Ah well.¡¯ I shrugged the question away, placing the book to the side. It wasn¡¯t as if I¡¯d have been able to find the answer at that moment. So I added it to the ever-expanding list of mysteries before I moved on to the next book. A book that I quickly became immersed in. As it gave me insight into the non-human races of this world and how they; particularly the elves, were central to humans evolving into what they were today.


    According to the book, the first recordings of humans using anything other than the four types of elemental manipulation dated back to 1,480 years ago, when five magical portals opened up on the far continent of Ulai, on the far side of the Caldera Sea. Though the individual portals spawned on the same landmass, they themselves were thousands of kilometers apart from one another and were responsible for a sudden increase in ambient mana. Turning the surrounding lands into more extreme versions of the environments they already were and giving the denizens of the far realms free reign to invade humanity''s homeland of Maru.


    Most importantly, it spurred a mutation within humanity that would give rise to their Affinity Cores. Or so they believed.


    Even those didn¡¯t stop them from learning of the devastating power of the races from the far realms, however. Each of them was terrifying and horrific in their own right, yet it was the dominant races of the different realms seen as the most formidable in humanity''s eyes; for each of them could manipulate mana in dissimilar ways.


    Vampires could use mana to control blood, for instance. And the goblins and orcs of Betrarth could manipulate bone and plant matter respectively. Elves could manipulate and cast with magic in addition to mana forging. Humans could manipulate elements. Dwarves could mold metal. Gnomes could create illusions. Halflings could charm. And demons, most feared of all, could use mana to feed off of emotional energy and in turn use it to physically empower themselves.


    ¡°Now that is interesting!¡± I commented aloud as I slammed the book shut. Vampires and goblins and elves and dwarves. This life was truly magical. And as such, I had an endless slew of questions.


    I was a scientist, after all. Sure, I delved into fantasy virtual worlds and lost myself in more pieces of literature than I could count. But the potential for what was reality in this world was nigh limitless. And my pool of knowledge was laughably small. ''How big is this world.? How old? Just how many creatures live- thrive on it?'' These were the questions burning most deeply in my mind. Driving my need to explore and see and learn these things for myself.


    Frustratingly so.


    As a five-year-old, I had at least a decade until I had any semblance of freedom. Meaning the only other thing I could do was get my hands on as much information as possible and train as much as I could until that coveted moment came. So no more charades, I decided. My family already thought of me as a genius, so there was no point in trying to play as if wasn¡¯t.


    It wasn¡¯t as if I was fooling anyone, anyways. So with that decided, I tossed the second book on my bed and slid off my seat and into the shadows beneath my desk. Then turned toward the kitchen upon entering that blissful realm of darkness.


    It was snack time.

 11 - The Nature of Spellcasting.

    ¡°Evening, Your Grace.¡± Gerolt bowed as I emerged from a shadow in the corner and waited for me to sit before asking. ¡°Fancy a midnight snack?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡± I nodded. ¡°The usual.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± He grinned boyishly as he leaned to retrieve a wooden slab from under the counter, then moved to the enchanted fridge. "So, how goes His Grace''s studies?" He asked from behind a hefty hill of ingredients.


    "They go well.¡± I amiably stated. ¡°I¡¯m taking a break before I began to read of spells.¡±


    ¡°Oh! Spells!¡± He perked up with enthusiastic approval. Though I couldn¡¯t help but feel a little condescension in his tone. ¡°Already, huh?¡±


    ¡°Yes, already. Soon enough, I¡¯ll be able to accompany you on your hunting trips.¡±


    At that, he only chuckled nervously and leaned over his board to concentrate on making my meal presentable. In turn, I remained silent and watched him work while I thought about the questions still burning in my mind. The many wonders regarding this strange world in which I found myself.


    There were uncountable similarities to Sol. The clothes. The architecture. The language; or one of them, at least. Even a lot of the food was the same. There were apples and bananas and pineapples and your standard assortment of vegetables. But otherworldly entrees as well. Like the mass of sweet and juicy, rubbery growths called Hex Fruit. Or Mudroot, a fruit that, as the name suggested, grew in the mud to somehow create a strange mix between a pear and potato. And, my favorite, Swamp Shard Nectar. A putrid bulb that resembled a burnt pine cone containing a mass of succulent syrupy yellow flesh.


    Those things were trivial in the face of other observations, however. Namely, in the face of the fact that I had yet to see the sun.


    Sure, I was a nocturnal creature and went off to bed as soon as the sun began rising and traveled through the shadow plane most of the time. But I also emerged from my room as the sun was setting on many occasions and found that the light had been cast from more or less the same angle. That in itself could have implied a number of things. The world we were on; Maru, could have been tidally locked and it was thanks to a piece of orbital infrastructure or its magical equivalent that gave us our day-night cycle. Or it could be that Maru was tilted so far over on its axis and its orbital period was so long that a solar day could have equated a few sidereal years. Or, it could have been like Venus and had a slow retrograde spin. Giving it extremely long days.


    The possibilities were endless and my knowledge base was insignificant. Infuriatingly so.


    A sudden thud ripped me from my thoughts, causing me to turn a glare up at Gerald just as he was retracting his hand from my fruit bowl. An apologetic smile smeared across his face.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t mean to break your concentration, Your Grace.¡±


    I waved the matter aside as I took my bowl. Then called out to him before he turned to grab a cleaning rag. ¡°Say, Gerolt. How big is this world?¡±


    ¡°Oh. The Mortal Plane is far larger than any of us can imagine.¡± He chuckled meekly. ¡°I know that Maru is around 25 to 26,000 kilometers from any one end to the other. As far as the plane itself.¡± He chuckled again. ¡°You¡¯d have to find a scholar to answer that.¡±


    ¡°Jesus Christ!¡± I gasped aloud.


    Gerolt¡¯s brows ruffled immediately. ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± I quickly said before settling into my thoughts and my meal.


    ¡®Twenty-five thousand kilometers!¡¯ I scoffed to myself. ¡®That¡¯s the equivalent of two Earths! That in itself is huge, but Gerolt made it seem as if that¡¯s sand in the face of gold.¡¯


    After thinking things through over my snack, my eagerness to know more was beginning to reach the point of frustration. So I hurriedly picked up my bowl to the sink to wash away the scraps with water manipulation and place them in the cleaning rack. Then, after a nod to Gerolt, I slipped back into the shadows; calling from the darkness. ¡°I look forward to the day you teach me about hunting and the culinary arts, Gerolt.¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ Your Grace.¡± I heard his somewhat reluctant voice echo behind me as I stepped into the night. ¡°I as well.¡±


    Back in my room, I excitedly returned to my seat to begin flipping through the last and smallest of the books- The Basics of Spells and Casting.


    On the very first page was a thank you note to all the mystics who came before. For remaining altruistic and choosing to disclose the secrets of their prowess. All for the betterment of society''s future.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± I frowned.


    In truth, a part of me felt a particular way about disclosing my abilities to the greater world. It was highly probable that I¡¯d encounter many powerful beings throughout my life; human or not. Snitching on myself was a surefire way to make a bad possibility become a chaotic reality overnight. That said, it was also likely that the underlying concepts of my abilities would go far above their heads. From what I could see of this society, the age I was born into seemed to be just on the fringe of entering the Renaissance era, if not in its throes. Only accented with hints of modernity due to the many enchantments strewn throughout the place. I had doubts that even a scholar in this world would¡¯ve heard of concepts like gravity or radiation or beta decay. So, it wasn¡¯t as if I¡¯d have lost anything.


    ¡®Oh well.¡¯ I shrugged, ensuring to capture the entirety of the page within my field of vision before flipping through the pages to the cover. With my Eternal Eye, this drastically reduced my reading time to only a few seconds. Leaving me hours to read, review, and research.


    Following the thank you note, the book started off by stating spells could be learned in two ways. Either by studying a Tome or by developing a spell yourself. Making three types of categories for learned spells to fall into- Simple, Grimoire, and Stylized. Naturally, since stylized spells are unique in their creation and grimoire spells are; quite misleadingly, learned from a tome, the book only went into depth with simple spells.


    As for which, there were many more than I initially expected. And the effectiveness of each of them was entirely dependent on what attributed mana was used during a particular engagement. There were the obligatory Attack and Defense Spells, of course. The former of which consisted of literally throwing the attributed mana at an opponent; or using it thrust, sweep or slam. Defense spells on the other hand required one to simply condense a shield of mana around them; much like a concentrated domain. And of course, the effectiveness of that shield depended entirely on the conflicting mana attributes.


    Domain Spells were more or less as Grandpa Lich described. Zones of attributed magical energy- a cloud of darkness in my case; or an electrical field; or a ring of high gravity. More intriguing, however, were the last few types of spells. And more so, the section after that.


    What was referred to as Craft Spells, came with a disclaimer. While they were indeed categorized as Spells, Craft Spells revolved around the art of using magic for more industrial or crafty means. It wasn¡¯t using raw mana to craft weapons of energy like the elves, but using attributed magic or even mana manipulation to create material items- to heat forges for iron and steel; to compact and mold earth and stone for construction; to build emplacements or infrastructure or even furniture with different attributes of magic.


    Any spell emplaced in an area with any form of conditions was referred to as a Trap Spell. While they were most famously known for their effectiveness in ambushes, they were invaluable for more practical means as well. A water trap spell could be emplaced in a field for irrigation while a fire trap spell could be cast into a fireplace for a fuelless fire.


    From what I could gather about Reinforcement Spells, they acted as a form of magical body augmentation; wherein one would flood their body with mana to strengthen, empower, or outright change it. Though once again, the element¡¯s compatibility with the human body was a factor to consider. As was the case with the last spell type: Binding Spells. Which, as the name implied, were used to bind and restrain a target.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    With that came the section I was most engrossed in. A passage about the differences between active and passive spells. As one would have guessed, active spells required conscious effort to cast. They required the mystic to imagine the effect their spell to have before manipulating their mana through the core, measuring the volume and density of the gathered energy before directing it out of their body to unleash the desired effect.


    Passive spells, however, were more akin to buffs than actual spells. Natural abilities or resistances that were based on one''s affinity and regulated like automatic biological processes.


    ¡®Perhaps that¡¯s why I feel the cold of the air without it bothering me.¡¯ I wondered to myself. ¡®Implying that I¡¯ll have electrical and even radiation immunities after awakening the rest of my cores. And if it¡¯s true that my natural darkvision is improved from my affinities, then that¡¯d imply that I¡¯ll gain to see across the EM spectrum when I awaken my other cores as well.¡¯


    With my reading assignment complete, I decided to get some meditation in and head to the training court at the first crack of night. And so I hopped on my bed and assumed the lotus position before letting my mind clear.


    ---


    I stirred from my torpor-like meditative state just before sundown and rolled out of bed to quickly get dressed and head off towards the training court with my final piece of literature. I wanted nothing more than go and start flinging spells around since the moment I¡¯d been born. To experiment and learn of the capabilities and limits of the dark energies within me. For, unlike my dormant affinities, I had not a clue as to the limits of magic. The tome Grandpa Lich gave me would serve as an invaluable hint, I assumed. And so I eagerly unfurled and inspected the palm-sized scroll after settling in the center of the court.


    Despite being sealed with wax or some other material, the parchment was severely tanned by age and tied off with a golden-yellow silk banner. And beneath that silken tie were only two lines.


    ¡®What is your shadow, if not a clone of oneself; cast by the blue sky?¡¯


    ¡®The Puppeteer. Magi: A. Cole.''


    ¡®Not only a riddle but a Haiku. Outstanding.¡¯ I snorted to myself in contempt. I hated riddles. ¡®At least this one is simple.¡¯ I then sighed, glancing down at my shadow, mimicking my swaying head as my mind churned.


    When viewed from a different perspective, It was indeed a clone of myself- my shadow. A twin. Born the same moment I was born as an entity trapped between the planes. A dark mirror sentenced to follow me around wherever I went. Forced to mimic the actions I performed in his two-dimensional world.


    ¡®So then, this¡­ Doppelganger spell.¡¯ I wondered. ¡®I assume that at a base level, it¡¯ll allow this 2D clone to come into our 3D world and do whatever the being it was spawned from could do. But if these spells were limited to imagination, how many effects could be stacked?¡¯


    The only thing to do was to experiment and see for myself. So I focused on my shadow and began pulling mana from my well. As before, the energy was immediately drawn to the abyssal bean that was my affinity core and began spreading throughout the organ after passing the membrane; allowing me to grab hold of the now-attributed energy and begin withdrawing it radially before it could be tainted with death.


    Now free of the spiritual organ, the shadow mana gathered and began condensing well within the walls of my strange, ethereal second body; yet still seemed to leak out of my physical body in the form of a black misty aura.


    Again, without a proper scale, I knew not how much was too much or too little for any particular spell. So, I decided to continue gathering the energy while I thought up as many conditions as I could. To start, I wanted the Doppelgangers to be persistent dark mirrors of their original counterparts, as they needed to be capable of independent action and grow in tandem with their other half. Additionally, there needed to be a mental link or some sort of empathic bond with them. And they needed the ability to create umbral pockets in the shadow of their original to give them storage dimensions like mine. Above all, though, I wanted the Doppelgangers to be modular and capable of being recast into more complete versions as my knowledge grew over time.


    A tall order, to be sure. But if Telin¡¯s words were true, the possibilities were truly limitless.


    With just over half of the mana in my well withdrawn and accumulated into a cloud of darkness within me, I reaffirmed my conditions on the spell before guiding the energy toward the soles of my feet. until the breach triggered. As if great floodgates had opened, a deluge of umbral energy poured into my shadow. Darkening and condensing it past what could be thought possible until the influx of energy came to resemble a half-elven-shaped pool of tar, hot and hardly boiling.


    Seconds passed, and a singular bubble rose from the center of that pit, elongated, and began to take shape. First into a squat pillar of semi-solid darkness before splitting apart at the base and top to further condense into legs and arms. Followed by a head and a split-tailed coat, slacks, and loafers all made from the dark mass of mana ebbing from the floor.


    With half of the energy within my ethereal body depleted, I began to feel a bit of fatigue in my mind. Like I¡¯d just spent an hour or so running or exercising and the fatigue turned into stress that affected the brain only. I felt a bit¡­ on edge. Annoyed like I was craving a cigarette, though there were physical effects as well. My body was a bit tenser than it was before. I noticed my jaw was clenched and both my heart rate and rate of respiration had negligibly but noticeably increased. Yet, like water flowing down the drain, ambient mana was cascading into my body. Passing through my mana pores to enter and recharge my well in quick succession and somewhat relieve the after-effects of casting what I assumed to be a powerful spell.


    Meanwhile, my newly formed doppelganger was standing before me, mimicking my somewhat labored breath. The outline of its face, hair, and clothes were all identically matched to mine, up to the smallest detail. Only colored in differing shades of black and gray.


    Somewhat slowly, I held out my fist and watched as he mirrored my movement to give me a fist bump. However, he quickly retracted his hand in tandem with mine after the vacantly cold texture of his shadow flesh shocked me. It was an amorphous material like rubber or gelatin that retained the solidity and hardness of a flesh and blood fist.


    ¡°Can you speak?¡± I asked my clone.


    ¡°I can.¡± The doppelganger whispered after a nod. But without moving his mouth. And the whisper sounded more like me impersonating a ghostly wail ringing in from both inside my head and from where the doppelganger stood.


    ¡°Nice.¡± I grinned. Then took a few steps away from him. ¡°Let¡¯s see what else you can-¡±


    ¡°I see you¡¯ve finished your assignment.¡± A gruff voice came floating in from behind me.


    My Doppelganger shifted his head to see around me while I turned to see Grandpa Lich stepping in from the shadows.


    ¡°I have.¡± I nodded, turning to fully face him. ¡°I¡¯ve completed my other assignments as well. I now know about mana wells and pores and know that this stress I feel is Mana Fatigue at work. I learned of the basic spells. The opening of the gates and humanity gaining affinity cores. The abilities of non-humans. And of the basic spells.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s only been a few days, Amun.¡± He laughed in despair and disbelief.


    ¡°It¡¯s not as if I have anything else to do besides wander around and train.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m bored.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re bored.¡± He shook his head this time, laughing again. ¡°You can have anything you want; be it games or toys or anything that brings you joy. And you¡¯re bored.¡± He paused to erupt a bit in boisterous laughter before stepping forth to place his bear paw of a hand on my shoulder. ¡°You are the Grand Duke of Odissi, Amun. If you want or need something, all you need is to say so.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± I greedily nodded. ¡°I have no interest in games and toys. What I need is information and experience. I need access to a library. I need to go hunting with Gerolt. I need the freedom to explore outside of the estate. And I need my vassals here so we can train together.¡±


    Grandpa Lich gripped my shoulder tighter to give me a vigorous shake. ¡°Acknowledged and understood!¡± He grinned madly. Then released my shoulder to begin pacing back and forth before me. Now,¡± he said at his pivot point. ¡°Are you ready to continue your lessons?"


    ¡°Yes, Sir!¡± I bowed. Spurring forth his enthusiasm.


    ¡°Judging from your shadow clone, you have a grasp on withdrawing mana from your well and out of your core to produce darkness. But I wish to teach you one more shadow spell before we move on to death. A simple reinforcement spell that I call, Wraith Form. Though, you can call it whatever you like.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± I nodded, settling on the same name before pulling the mana from my well.


    ¡°Once you withdraw the darkness and it begins accumulating in an aura around you, focus on infusing it into your physical body. Distributed evenly amongst all your parts.¡±


    Like before, the energy began gathering in my ethereal second body, resulting in an umbral aura wafting from my body like steam. Following the pointer given, I began pulling the energy inward, forcing it from the spirit and into my flesh.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± Grandpa Lich held up a grizzled palm.


    I stopped the flow of mana at once. Yet continued pulling residual shadow mana into my physical body before relaxing my focus.


    ¡°Try to move about.¡± Grandpa Lich gestured to his side. ¡°Try to jump.¡±


    I¡¯d already been turning about in place when he gave the instruction and during that time, I noticed that my body felt¡­ airy. Lighter as if it were no longer made of flesh and blood. Following his words, I hopped upwards and almost yelped as I rapidly gained altitude and came to a rest near the rooftops of the training court.


    I felt a burst of shadow energy bloom below me and suddenly saw my grandfather rising up to my level, black clouds wafting and waving in place of his legs. ¡°Reinforcing the body with shadow mana essentially transforms us into phantoms. As the name suggests, this Wraith Form gives our bodies ghostly qualities. Regular attacks will pass right through us. We can freely fly through the air and can even pass through walls or the ground. Only in darkness are we invisible, however. And of course, this form is strengthened in such a case.¡±


    ¡°Amazing.¡± I gasped.


    ¡°Indeed.¡± He grinned. Then grabbed me by the wrist to pull me into the nearest shadow. ¡°Now come. It is time you familiarize yourself with death.¡±

 12 - Death Bullet

    ¡°Now Amun,¡± Grandpa Lich said after guiding me through a shadow cast from the external walls. Naturally, my focus was aimed more toward my bearings, however. It was the first time I''d been permitted outside the walls and I needed to feast my eyes by craning them above.


    It was a moonless night; if this world had a moon at all. More disappointingly, there was an immense emptiness in the night sky. There were no galaxies, nebulae, or star clusters to be found in the unpolluted sky. Only a few celestial bodies that may or may not have been faraway stars or even galaxies could be seen. Somewhere around a dozen of them. A far cry from the vibrant universe I saw resting in Telin¡¯s hand.


    I wanted to ask but was cautious due to the possibility of humanity having no concept of stars and galaxies in this realm. Being a gifted, genius child was one thing. Having knowledge of things I had no business knowing was another matter entirely. So I set aside my questions for later and lowered my gaze to rest on the winter wonderland around me.


    In the gray tones of the night, I could see only a towering woodline of meters-wide trees that were spaced far enough apart to allow their smaller cousins to take root and form webs of creeping vines and towering shrubs. Mere anchors for knee-high snow and supports for icicles. There was hardly a sound or smell that fell into my senses from where I stood. Only the range of smells leaking from the trees and the ever-so-quiet pitter-patter of snow falling into my elven ears. No traces of fauna. No trails or indications of any humans coming and going. Only this dark forest and this slate wall at our backs.


    "Before we begin, you must be aware of how dangerous it is to wield death.¡± Grandpa Lich explained, floating before me as a wraith. ¡°Our sorcerous death stems directly from the Underworld. Its energy is detrimental to life itself. While our sorcery makes us immune to necrotic energies, such is not the case for others. Death will never distinguish between friend or foe. Regardless of your will or intention, it will affect all it touches. But that isn¡¯t to say it will kill whatever it touches.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± I nodded truthfully.


    ¡°Good.¡± He grunted. Then began pacing as usual. ¡°Death magic is the culmination of all darker magics. Poison, disease, decay, and darkness; to name a few. As such, its power is akin to a spectrum. Where on the lower end, it can be used to do as little as induce fear or inflict wounds. On the higher end, it can indeed kill something with but a touch. But it can also return something from the Underworld. Now then.¡± He stopped pacing to once again stand proudly before my tiny frame. ¡°Any questions before we begin?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I quickly nodded. ¡°What are the passive abilities granted by our sorcery?¡±


    ¡°Excellent question!¡± He beamed with the clap of his hands. ¡°Having an affinity with death makes us immune to disease; first and foremost. We are immune to cold temperatures as well, as the underworld is frigid beyond measure; this does not mean we are immune to ice, however. You can still be frozen without feeling cold. Aside from that, the only other benefit is that our connection to the Underworld causes the denizens of that realm to view us as sovereigns. Under no circumstances will any undead attack you. They wouldn¡¯t dream of it, in fact.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded. ¡°So, no immortality?¡±


    That got a boisterous kick out of him. But he quickly recovered his composure. ¡°Have you forgotten the nickname you¡¯ve given me already?¡± He laughed. ¡°No, immortality is not a passive spell. I became a lich through other means.¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you when you¡¯re older.¡± He grinned. ¡°If in the event that you make it into the academy.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because you are an inept Sorcerer. That¡¯s why.¡± He spat. ¡°You must first master the shadows before attempting to master death. And after that, there are many things you must accomplish before you attempt to become undying. Most of those steps you¡¯ll have taken come your second or third year at the academy. So, I¡¯ll tell you then.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± I sighed with more than visible frustration.


    ¡°VeRy WeLl!¡± Grandpa Lich mocked before laughing to himself. ¡°Not as if you have a choice, Amun.¡±


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°How old are you?¡± I scoffed, fighting back the urge to roll my eyes.


    ¡°478! But that¡¯s beside the point.¡± He grunted out a chuckle before pointing to a nearby willow-like tree. ¡°Withdraw a small amount of death mana and throw it at that tree.¡±


    After taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I faced the target in question before pulling mana from my well. While the tree itself was still large, it wasn¡¯t as large as the sequoia-like trees that dominated the forest. It was easily what an Earthling or Saturnian would''ve considered unremarkable in comparison to what they usually saw. If not for the glowing ice-blue veins in the leaves and long waving branches of smooth gray-white bark.


    I truly had doubts that a tiny bit of death mana would be enough to kill it. But I chose to trust my grandfather for the time being and watched the energy fall through my affinity core, fall through the layer of darkness, and plummet into the necrotic core like a worm chewing its way through an apple. As instructed, it was only a sliver of energy to be pulled out of the core and guided up my arm to concentrate at my fingertips. Amounting to a smoky gray-black marble held between my middle finger and thumb. Ready to be flicked.


    Like a small wad of wet paper, the spell cleanly arced through the air before landing on the smooth bark and splattering like a water droplet. And in the very next moment, the entire tree just sort of¡­ deflated. Wilted. Its leaves immediately lost their luster and faded to an ashen gray before simply fading into dust. A prelude to the tree''s main act mere moment''s later, wherein it withdrew on itself like a deflated ball until all that was left was a pile of black dust subjected to an aerial assault of white powder.


    ¡°This is the power of death, Amun.¡± Grandpa Lich said gravely. ¡°Always use it in moderation.¡±


    I had to admit, I was a bit shaken after seeing the results of my Death Bullet. If even the smallest touch was enough to negate life then I could take no chances with this type of magic. Spells would have to be carefully developed and collateral damage would have to be heavily considered before it was used.


    Excepting necromancy, I supposed.


    ¡®If that¡¯s the case.¡¯ I prepared my fingers again before withdrawing more mana from my well. Only this time, I allowed the mana to flow through the entirety of my affinity core.


    Instead of the dense coldness of darkness or the intense aura of death; the abyssal void gathered in my hand had remarkably no feeling to it at all from an external perspective. No aura of energy leaked from it, not even mana. Besides the empty region of space held between my fingers, there was no indication that I was preparing a spell at all. There was simply, nothing.


    I noticed Grandpa Lich staring intently at me, so I flicked the bullet at the dead tree''s neighbor, watching intently for the results.


    It was slow and tiny; about the same size as the death bullet but twice as slow. The stark difference, however, was that when it reached the intended target, it just sort of¡­ stopped in place. The tree didn¡¯t even move. At first. The sphere of emptiness only appeared to merge with the bark and come to rest halfway inside it. Then, the sound of creaking, cracking, and splintering wood began ringing throughout the forest. I could see the tree tilting on its side as I watched on. Tilting faster and faster until the thin strands of wood holding the tree upright gave way. And so, the tree fell into that void. As if thrown down a hole, the trunk disappeared over the edge, never to be seen again. Forsaking its branches and leaves to fall and uproot to the snow while its body fell into that eternal darkness.


    Grandpa Lich managed to activate his Wrath Form in time to spare him from the worst of the temporary blizzard. After belatedly activating mine, the snow simply phased through my body and plopped to the ground. Freeing me to float forth to assess the damage. Even after the snow settled, the Void Sphere was still there. Floating. Waiting. Hoping for something to cross its horizon and be erased from existence without so much as a sound. Not to say it wasn''t already happening. For, before my eyes, I could see a cascade begin to form before my eyes.


    ¡°Incredible.¡± I heard the gasp of my forefather after dispersing the spell.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I sighed in horrific admiration. ¡®It may be a while until I can learn to use this freely.¡¯


    After a few moments of silence, Grandpa seemed to have awakened from his stupor and knelt beside me to give me a prideful pat on the shoulders. ¡°In all honesty.¡± He ferally beamed. ¡°I never thought teaching you magic would have been this easy, Amun. You are truly a gifted child. Blessed by mana and natural-born genius. I have nothing left to teach you, son.¡±


    ¡°My training is over?¡± I somewhat dejectedly asked.


    ¡°Your training is never over. For now, however, only you can train yourself.¡± Grandpa smiled reassuringly. ¡°Once you turn fifteen, you¡¯ll attend the awakening ceremony and be screened to see if you¡¯re capable of attending the academy. So until then, continue training and developing your skills. I¡¯ll return sometime before you come of age to check on your progress and train you further.¡±


    ¡°When are you leaving?¡± I asked blankly.


    ¡°In a few weeks.¡± He grunted. ¡°Before I do, I¡¯ll be introducing you to your first vassals. One has been trained as a knight page. The other has started an education in politics and finance. They will be moved here to continue their education and serve as your wings; your left and right hands. Ensure you treat them well. And better than that, ensure you teach them how to best serve you.¡±


    ¡®Oh, I most certainly will.¡¯ I grinned to myself, yet gave my progenitor a respectful bow. "Understood. Thank you for your time, Grandpa Lich.¡¯

 13 - The World Around Us

    The week and a half following my first use of death and void magic passed in much the same manner as before. I awoke and ate, then relocated to the training court to practice elemental manipulation or practice casting until the sun began to rise; wherein I would retire for the day. With such a schedule, I¡¯d gotten quite used to the relative solitude I was now afforded. if I were to ignore Jonet following me around and only sometimes practicing her ice magic. As such, I couldn''t help but flinch in surprise when my father randomly decided to step out of my shadow.


    ¡°Oho!¡± He beamed after settling himself into the physical world. ¡°Seems as if we were both startled, Son.¡± He grinned, nodding down to my shadow. ¡°I see your shadow clone has made himself comfortable in there.¡±


    ¡®Seriously?¡¯ I scoffed inside before nodding to him. ¡°I have. I call him Numa. My Doppelganger.¡±


    ¡°Fantastic.¡± He airily sighed. ¡°Have you learned to control him yet?¡±


    ¡°I have¡­¡± I nodded while Numa reached his hand into physical space to give him a thumbs up. ¡°Did¡­ you have something to tell me?¡± I asked somewhat impatiently after another of my father''s airy sighs of approval.


    ¡°Ah!¡± He recoiled as if he¡¯d just been struck. ¡°Yes! If you¡¯ll come with me, Amun, there are a few things I wish to discuss with you.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± I shrugged, stepping after him into the Shadow Plane.


    ¡°As¡­ Grandpa Lich told you.¡± Father¡¯s voice echoed back to me a few moments later. ¡°You¡¯ll be receiving two vassals of your own. Like Jonet, they will follow you for the rest of your life and have each started an education down paths that will help you in the future. As such, your formal education will soon start. You¡¯ll learn about the realms and their histories as we know them. And most importantly, you¡¯ll learn about manners and etiquette. This is your teacher.¡± He paused to step back into reality, appearing in the service wing behind a slim, blonde man dressed in a white suit. ¡°His name is Wilmont Brooks.¡±


    Upon hearing his name, the man in question turned on his heels and immediately lowered his waist into a formal bow. ¡°It¡¯s an honor to finally meet you, Your Grace,¡± Wilmont said somewhat loudly after raising himself and allowing me to capture his heavily freckled face in memory. "Your father has told me much of your brilliance.¡± Somewhat paradoxically, he had both a slim, bony face as well as a prominent cleft in his chin. Centered on his face were a pair of wiry glasses that comically magnified his blue-green eyes. Triggering my inner child and nearly forcing an outburst of laughter to erupt in his face.


    ¡°The pleasure is mine.¡± I nodded in turn, attempting to distract myself by resurfacing those questions burning deep in my mind. ¡°I¡¯m free to begin my lessons now. If you wish.¡±


    Mr. Brooks seemed taken aback at my offer and began stumbling over his words. ¡°Ah- well. G-Give me some to prepare.¡± He finally uttered. ¡°I¡¯ll come to Your Grace when I¡¯m ready.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± I shrugged internally; nodded externally, before asking. ¡°Do you have any reading material for me to study in the meantime?¡±


    He again seemed taken aback, yet this time he took a short but significant look at my father before reaching into his bag. "This is the material we''ll be going over in our first block of instruction." He eventually said, placing four large textbooks on the table before me.


    I gave him a warm smile as I deposited the books into my shadow. Then, after a final nod to my father, it was off to the courtyard to read to my heart''s content. In this case, however, ''reading'' constituted nestling under a tree to scan through each book with my proverbial second mind.


    The first of them was about the history of this world, Maru. Or ''realm,'' as it was called in the text. Regardless, it was a topic that I found great interest in rather quickly. In just seconds, I found myself taking my time in actually reading the material; albeit at a far faster pace than would otherwise be possible. Eventually becoming so absorbed in the information that I hardly noticed my father approaching me from the service wing with Jonet in tow.


    ¡°Amun.¡± He called. Then beckoned me to him after I met his gaze. ¡°Follow me.¡±


    Rather than venture back from where he came, he continued on towards the final area of the estate once I¡¯d fallen in step beside him. Almost immediately, I immediately felt the strange, mixed sensations of my stomach roiling in displeasure while my heart skipped in excitement.


    While I still had no desire to venture too far into such a politically focused world, I couldn¡¯t deny that I was curious as to what remained hidden beyond those doors for all these years. Surely a library, I assumed. As it seemed to be the only thing missing from this place.


    ¡°Due to all the changes coming to your life.¡± My father started. ¡°Your mother and I agreed to lift your restrictions around the estate. From now on, you can freely move through any part of the grounds that you wish; including the exterior yards. And you may go hunting with Gerolt as well.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I bowed a little and turned my head after my father waved off my thanks and pointed to an alcove carved next to the great doors of our destination.


    ¡°Your belt contains an enchantment that has a direct link with this shade door. All you have to do is pour mana in it and you¡¯ll be returned here at once.¡± He paused before the large double doors of carved black wood to gaze at me intently through the side of his eye. "Use it only in the event of an emergency.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t even ask any questions before he pushed the doors apart, granting us entry to a U-shaped platform of slate tiles and cast iron boundaries. The space was heavily decorated with carvings. Everywhere, there were carvings. Carvings in place of paintings. Carvings in place of murals. Statues, busts, and monuments; all gilded and bedazzled in crystal. It gave me the impression of a gallery, yet a relatively short flight of stairs connected the platform to a vast great room containing a massive U-shaped desk surrounded by posh-looking folk idly waiting on an assortment of lounge chairs and couches. Some were even resting. Others were migrating to the alcoves and doors lining each facade of the wall. More were above, however, walking along wraparound terraces on the upper floor as they moved in and out of the glass-walled offices.


    Stolen story; please report.


    It was a vast place. Yet our destination was literally around the corner. Just to the right of the doors, wherein a smaller reception and lounge area stood as a bastion to the double doors that permitted us entry.


    ¡°This is the center of business and politics for our family.¡± My father stopped just short of the doors to explain. ¡°Lawyers, accountants, and others come here every day to earn their livelihoods. In addition to that.¡± He added, pointing off to our right. ¡°This is where our library is located. Now, come with me.¡±


    Half self-conscious of any anticipatory frothing of the mouth, I wordlessly followed after him down the steps to approach the large reception desk. Specifically, to approach two young boys standing tall beside the desk. Like Jonet, they seemed to be just around my age, and, judging from posture and dress alone, they appeared to be twins. Though their appearance made it clear they most certainly were not. They stood like a soldier at the position of attention. Back straight, arms held at the sides with the heels together and toes pointed outwards at 45 degrees. Eyes level and looking straight forward, despite my father and I approaching.


    They were entirely unmoving up until the moment my father and I stopped just before them. Then they immediately dropped to a knee in unison.


    The one on the left had the signs of a fighter''s build in his small frame. He moved with fluidity and grace and boast a surprising height for one his assumed age. He had rich brown skin and black hair fashioned in a tapered fade coupled with eyes a vibrant cobalt blue, somewhat like Jonet¡¯s. Like the one next to him, he wore khaki slacks and leather dress shoes, coupled with a black button-up shirt that¡¯d been covered by a fur-lined black and gold overcoat.


    His counterpart had slightly darker skin and hair twisted into locks that were only a few centimeters long. He was just as tall as his other, only far leaner. As lean as I was, surprisingly. What was more surprising were the tan irises staring at me with the same anticipatory gaze as the cobalt eyes next to him.


    ¡°These two; along with Jonet, are your vassals.¡± My father explained as he gestured to the first, then the second. ¡°Toril O¡¯Connell, your knight. And Jaimess. A. Corey, your quartermaster.¡±


    In response to my father¡¯s introduction, they each looked up to me with resolve flooding their eyes before somewhat shouting from where they kneeled.


    ¡°I, Jaimess Corey, pledge my lifetime loyalty to His Grace, Amun. Grand Duke of Odissi.¡±


    ¡°And I, Toril O¡¯Connell, pledge my lifetime loyalty to His Grace, Amun. Grand Duke of Odissi.¡±


    ¡°Jaimess, Toril.¡± I nodded to each of them in turn as if to commit the names to memory. ¡°Can you tell me of your affinities?¡±


    ¡°I have lightning magic, Your Grace.¡± Toril bowed his head lower.


    Followed by Jaimess. ¡°And I, paper magic, Your Grace.¡±


    ¡®Paper?¡¯ I inwardly recoiled in surprise. ¡°Interesting.¡± I slowly nodded as many ideas began forming in my mind. ¡°How many sheets of paper can you make at a time?¡±


    Jaimess seemed initially puzzled at my question but quickly regained his composure and answered. ¡°Easily hundreds of the standard size, Your Grace.¡±


    ¡®Perfect.¡¯ I smiled. ¡°Can you make me a few hundred sheets, here and now? It would be of great help.¡±


    Jaimess said not a word and simply focused on the desk beside him. Within a second or two, his eyes were ablaze with a tan light and soon, a single sheet of paper seemed to peel itself from his arm and lie flat on the desk. Then it multiplied. And multiplied. Again and again, until the flow of mana ceased within him. Leaving a relatively thick stack of paper on the desk next to him.


    ¡°Excellent!¡± I grinned as I approached my new bounty to lift up a corner of the stack and expose the shadow underneath. With a quick shadow bullet, the smoky black energy spread around the borders of the stack and began consuming the stack of paper wholly. ¡°You have my word that I will give each of you every tool you need to succeed,¡± I said, turning back to them. ¡°That said.¡± I sighed. ¡°I¡¯m due for a block of instruction with my tutor soon. So I¡¯d like you to get yourselves situated in the estate for now. Jonet will show you your quarters and get you acquainted with the grounds. We will have a proper discussion after I see to a few things.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Grace,¡± Jonet and the others said as they all bowed in unison.


    ¡®Yeah.¡¯ I sighed to myself. ¡®That¡¯s not creepy at all.¡¯


    As they were walking deeper into the estate, I noticed my teacher entering the lobby to scurry toward me after catching sight of me. Only to diverge toward an empty office after seeing me step toward him.


    ¡°How goes His Grace¡¯s progress with his reading material?¡± He asked after I entered the surprisingly expansive room. Several plush chairs filled the space, facing a chalkboard emplaced on the mantle of a roaring enchanted fireplace.


    ¡°I learned that this world is called Maru.¡± I began explaining after gathering my bearings and finding my seat. ¡°And that recorded history dates back to 1,481 years ago. That was when humans began to be born with affinity cores. At that time, five portals opened on the continent of Ulai, allowing creatures from previously unknown realms to invade our lands. Giving rise to twelve-hundred years of war.¡±


    I paused for a second or two to give him a moment to comment in some way or form about my summary. But after receiving no reaction other than an agape mouth, I quickly continued. ¡°While the wars on Maru waged on, others began venturing through the portals to establish guilds or colonies in those far-off realms, aiming to prevent the Marulean races from going extinct. That continued until another portal appeared in what would later become the Odissian empire, sometime in the early twelve-thirties. Through that portal came elves, and from those elves came the knowledge of enchantments, how to awaken additional affinity cores, and more. Finally granting humanity an edge in the war.


    "In twelve-fifty-five.¡± I continued. ¡°A mage by the name of Willard Epeth sealed the Ulaian continent behind a magical barrier. Paving the way for other mages at the time to begin culling Maru of those otherworldly creatures. Among them were the Necro King and His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Deapou. Who stabilized the island that would become our empire before using magic and enchantments to revitalize the land into what it is today.


    ¡°And that was all I was able to go over.¡± I politely bowed. To remain candid, I had absolutely no desire to spend years and years listening to the lectures of a teacher. I spent a good portion of my past life doing exactly that, after all. So I figured I had some sort of alibi to skip school in this one.


    I just had to prove to my teacher that teaching me traditionally was a waste of time.


    Much to my delight, he seemed flustered at the fact that I just summarized his entire lesson in less than a few minutes. In fact, I think I even heard him curse under his breath just now as he turned to a tote bag to begin shuffling through its contents.


    ¡°Here is your book, I said, handing him the first book out of the stack he¡¯d only just given me. ¡°Do you have any more?¡±

 14 - Literary Bender

    After receiving a few more books on noble hierarchy, political science, economics, and a few other topics, I left our appointed classroom and immediately moved toward the object of my current interest.


    The library.


    As one would have expected, it was filled with rows upon rows of towering bookcases coupled with busts and carved murals. The entire outer wall was lined with shelves that extended to the height of the three-story ceiling with about eight more in the center of the room, all accented with booths and plush chairs to service the many patrons within.


    I immediately moved toward the nearest shelf and began scanning the endless spines for any topics of particular interest. An endeavor that took next to no effort.


    While the first section of books I laid my eyes on were mostly records and biographies of how the many counties in our empire came to be and of the individuals who lifted them to their current status, the adjacent section contained what was essentially a bestiary of all the non-humans encountered over the ages. Neatly arranged into sections by what I assumed were the worlds they came from.


    Without hesitation I grabbed a ladder and started crawling all over the shelves, pulling spines from their places so that they could plummet into my awaiting shadow. Nothing was spared. Even after moving past the bestiary and onto the geology and geography of the world itself. Every text, document, or strange title was deposited into my Shadow Pocket until my curiosity got the best of me and I climbed down the ladder to see the gaping holes I''d left in random sections of the shelving.


    Satisfied with my work, I retreated to an unused desk in a quiet corner and dove into my endless bounty of information.


    In truth, I didn''t know how much time I spent reading, scanning, and analyzing the literal mountain of words before me. I only knew that a few of the books had been skimmed over with little interest. Books that told of etiquette and the limited knowledge of arithmetic and science in this world. Others, however, I paid close attention to as I thoroughly read each line. Those about the many different creatures found in this realm; from dragons to anthropomorphic animals and beings of stone to majestically massive trees that gave birth to entire dominions of life.


    Most fascinating of all was the structure of this world. Or rather, plane. It was so large, so vastly mind-breaking that I had to reaffirm the claim with anyone of scholarly merit as soon as possible. Thus I hastily loaded the mountain of books back into my shadow before hurriedly trotting up to the desk.


    "Well, if it isn''t His Grace." A woman with horn-rimmed glasses beamed after settling her large, pitch-black irises on me. She had black curly hair that was draped neatly around her head and ended at the shoulders, framing her motherly face like that of a picture. Her skin was light brown like a terracotta pot and wore a smile that instinctively made one want to adopt their own in the same style. "How can I honor you this morning?" She so bubbly asked.


    ''Morning?'' I internally recoiled. It was around nine at night when I began reading, placing my reading binge at around ten hours. Minus the few obligatory minutes for bathroom breaks. ''Whatever.'' I shrugged, lifting my shadow-flooded arm to cause a wall of darkness to befall the return desk and outputting the books I''d already read. "I''m only here to return these." I amiably said.


    She had a look of obvious shock on her face but gave hints of nothing else but pride as she giggled. "Wow! I had no idea His Grace was such an avid reader!"


    "It''s the best way to learn." I shrugged, then turned on my heels to begin scouring through the next section of books. While I was sure at least some of my burning questions could''ve been answered by Mr. Brooks, I found myself unable to resist the abundance of wealth that surrounded me. Thus, operating under the logic that he would send for me come time for my studies, I dove back into perusing through the rows and rows of literature.


    Days must have passed in that fashion; as it was easy to lose track of my now abundant free time when paired with my extended range of movement through the estate. Reading continuously and only stopping for the occasional trip to the service wing to grab a plate from Gerolt before immediately heading back.


    Not only were there details about my family, so too were there tales of the House of Deapou, along with one other in our empire. I learned of their magics, customs, languages, and laws. Of what morals were accepted here and what was considered taboo. Which wasn''t much different from what I was used to, unsurprisingly. But I was glad to see slavery, incest, and the other usual deviant acts were on the prohibited list.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Most fascinating to me in this session was the discovery of the surprisingly high level of technology this world had developed. If credited mostly with the elves and their knowledge of enchantments. In addition to the hints of modernity I''d already seen, boats, trains, monorails, and all other forms of transportation short of cars, rockets, submersibles, and planes were all commonly used. And all of them were powered by enchantments or sometimes even outright magic.


    The last section I scoured was dedicated entirely to mystics, might, and magic. Or more importantly, how they were ranked and classified. Essentially, an individual''s power level was recognized by the size and density of their mana well and included both unevolved and evolved mystics. Frustratingly, however, I found little detail regarding anything about classes. Only the fact that they existed.


    The rankings of the so-called Guild Association, on the other hand, were; from what I could gather, more of a charisma-based ranking system. Although there were certain tasks mentioned for each rank, it was mostly based on notable accomplishments, valor in battle, magical or physical prowess, the favor of the citizenry, fame, or even infamy. The repertoire of an individual itself was the basis of their ranking, and that rank granted an individual status higher than they otherwise would have; granted they weren''t born with high status in the first place. In fact, it went on as far as to say that anyone who was born with an affinity core or granted one later in life were regarded as highly as a knight and given the title, Initiate.


    On the contrary, a Magus was at the far end of the spectrum. Described as an individual whose power could rival that of a powerful nation''s military might, they held the same rights as a sovereign nation. Not because of power, though. Because they personally changed the course of sentient history through their actions.


    It was something I immediately aspired to become.


    After perusing through all I''d cared to in the library, I sat at my table for a moment to go over everything I thought I knew regarding how this realm operated.


    Magic aside, humanity lived in an area equivalent to roughly two earth radii. Inside of which were four continents. The volcanic, boreal Deapou Island, which in itself was akin to the size of Australia. The Pangaea-sized supercontinent to the southeast of us, Epethia. The largely uninhabited roughly boot-shaped landmass called Phaegrath to the east of that. And the monster-infested wilderness of Ulai, contained by a single, measly magical barrier. Outside of that were realms that contained everything from frost giants living in ice-covered realms plagued by perpetual storms and cryovolcanoes to hellish realms of metallic rain filled with devils, demons, and vampires. Areas that uncountable guilds have dedicated themselves to exploring since the dawn of recorded history.


    To facilitate that, a screening process was added to the core awakening ceremony. Those who passed would be granted entry into some sort of magic academy and later graduate to join a military or guild post-graduation. If they didn''t create one themselves. Meaning, if I were to explore these realms on my own and learn as much as I could along the way, attending the academy was my best course of action; though I had intense reservations about joining any military or guild. Thus the only logical course of action would be to form a guild of my own and explore these realms to my hearts'' content. And I figured I had the perfect plan to do it.


    "If I didn''t know any better, I''d say His Grace has read through every book in this library in just under a week." Caia, the librarian beamed as she pulled out the large box she''d started using to check in my books.


    During my extensive stay in the library, I''ve gotten to know her quite well and learned that her hereditary affinity was ink magic. An ability she and her ancestors have used for generations to keep the House of Cole''s records in order.


    "Not quite." I beamed back. "I found next to nothing on enchantments."


    "I''m afraid you''ll have to look elsewhere for those, Your Grace." Caia sighed apologetically. "Such things are hard to come by. It''s a highly guarded art."


    "No matter." I waved it aside before turning on my heels back to my little nook to attend to my next order of business.


    Once situated, I pulled out the stacks of paper given to me by Jaimess and recalled all the military knowledge I''d ever received throughout my first life before beginning the arduous task of transcribing the information by hand. While many things had to be omitted or altered due to the lack of firearms and the addition of magic, many things such as combat and parade drills, training regimes, first aid, survival training, and other things were able to be copied verbatim.


    It was agonizing work for sure, but with a veritable server in my head, the only other alternative was to have Caia copy my spoken word as if she were a scribe. Though with things like diagrams and models, that would''ve been hard to accomplish. Besides, it was a good way to practice my handwriting. My penmanship was comparable to chicken scratch in my past life. And I was aware that such things simply wouldn''t suffice for the status I held in this life.


    In the end, I wrote three books for them. One on leadership and military order, discipline, and training. Another on small unit tactics, guerrilla warfare, and survival techniques. And the last book was focused entirely on espionage and subversion. While they were somewhat dumbed down to make them understandable to someone of our age, I didn''t go too far with dumbing down the information, as I intended for them to refer back to this information many times throughout the course of their lives.


    "Good morning, Caia." I smiled as I approached the desk once again. "Could I ask you for a favor?"


    "Anything for His Grace." She beamed in her usual sunny disposition.


    "Can you use your ink magic to copy these for me?"

 15 - Wise Child

    Jaimess A. Corey.


    ***


    ¡°So, what do you think of His Grace?¡±


    For the first time since we left our studies, hours ago, I turned my gaze from the blackened ceiling to see Toril sitting on the edge of his bed, his leg twitching madly in either nervousness or anticipation. Or both.


    ¡°I¡¯m unsure.¡± I sighed. ¡°This whole situation still seems¡­ unreal.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, unreal?¡± Toril scoffed. ¡°You were the smartest in the school! I was the strongest! What¡¯s there to be confused about?¡±


    ¡°I just never thought I¡¯d one day find myself in the royal estate. Much less serving the Grand Duke. That¡¯s all.¡± I sighed again. ¡°You¡¯re wrong if you think I don¡¯t want to be here. I¡¯m not stupid.¡±


    ¡°And neither am I!¡± Toril grunted. ¡°You never answered my question, though.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to think, Toril.¡± I sighed again, turning back to the ceiling. ¡°He¡¯s barely spoken to us since we arrived. But he at least seems reasonable. Why do you ask?¡±


    Toril let out his own weary sigh this time. ¡°I don¡¯t know. He seems¡­ strange. Like, he reminds me of His Imperial Highness.¡±


    ¡°Obviously.¡± I scoffed. ¡°His Grace is his great-grandson.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Toril spat. ¡°I mean¡­ he doesn¡¯t act like any kid I¡¯ve ever met. He doesn''t act like us. It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s almost like he¡¯s an old man.¡±


    Just at that moment, a knock came at the door and like lightning, Toril and I snapped out of our beds. Onto a knee, we both were, as His Grace stepped inside with Jonet trailing behind and off to the side of him.


    ¡° Good afternoon, Your-¡± Toril and I started, only to be cut off by a raising of His Grace¡¯s hand.


    ¡°If you will be following me for life then there is no need for formalities,¡± He coldly said. ¡°In private you may call me Amun. Or anything other than His Grace or Master.¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ Lord Amun.¡± I hesitated to say.


    He gave me a curious squint before kneeling to reach into the growing pool of darkness at his feet. ¡°These books are for you all,¡± he said as he pulled out three sets of three books and handed them to each of us. ¡°Consider them as the most sacred of texts. Read them when you have the free time; at your own pace.¡± He added in a stern, careful tone. ¡°I¡¯d rather it take a few years for you all to understand these concepts than to rush through them without learning anything at all. And share them with no one.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Lord Amun.¡± We bowed in unison. Causing the same curious look to show itself on his face for a brief second.


    ¡°Now.¡± He began pacing. ¡°I assume you both are wondering what kind of person I am. What are my goals? What your lives will be like as my vassals? While I will tell you to see for yourselves and come to your own conclusions, I¡¯ll also tell you that I have no intentions of becoming either a hero or a villain. I have no interest in saving lost souls, acting virtuous, or pretending to be altruistic. I act only in accordance with my self-interests, first and foremost. Secondly, I care only about learning as much as I can about magic and exploring these realms.


    To do that.¡± He continued on his pivot. ¡°I will enroll in the magic academy and, after graduating, form a guild of my own. After gathering troops and training them to standard, I¡¯ll accrue experience in Phaegrath before addressing our shortcomings and moving across the sea to Ulai. Where we¡¯ll cull the continent from the monster armies before erecting an empire of our own.


    ¡®Is- Is he serious?¡¯ I laughed despairingly on the inside.


    ¡°Then and only then,¡± he added at his next pivot, ¡°will we explore the Mortal Plane in its entirety. Or until the end of our days. ¡± He then paused until he stood before Toril and me, wherein he squatted down to look us both in the eyes. ¡°If following down such a path isn¡¯t something you want in this life, be honest and tell me now. I will not hold it against you.¡±


    ¡®Gods, he is serious!¡¯ I gasped inside.


    ¡°I would want nothing more.¡± Toril declared, knocking me from my stupor and causing me to quickly reply in kind.


    ¡°My answer is the same.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± Lord Amun stood to his full height and continued his pacing without pause. ¡°As for your jobs, I¡¯ll be paying you each a salary of 100 gold coins per week until further notice, starting today. In exchange, you three are to put your all into becoming as physically, magically, and intellectually capable as possible. In addition to reading these books I¡¯ve given you, I¡¯ll soon be writing more pieces for you all that will pertain to your magical affinities and your specific occupations. To that end, we¡¯ll be starting our training regiment soon."


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


    ¡°Toril.¡± He stopped before the young knight who straightened his posture immediately.


    ¡°Yes, My Lord.¡± He bowed.


    ¡°As my first knight, you are primarily in charge of our security. Forever and always, your first duty will be to fight. Far in the future, however, you¡¯ll become the one to directly lead the troops in our guild while I command. As their leader, you¡¯ll be responsible for their well-being and the training of not only our troops but of any vassals that may come under my wing in the future.¡±


    ¡°Understood, My Lord.¡± Toril bowed.


    ¡°Jaimess.¡± He then turned to me, prompting a polite bow. ¡°You will have three duties. First, as my quartermaster, you¡¯ll be in charge of inventorying, managing, and sometimes acquiring everything that we own or need: coin, provisions, equipment, materials, infrastructure, assets, and even land. Everything must be recorded in painstakingly accurate detail.¡±


    ¡°Of course, My Lord.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°Your second duty will be that of a treasurer.¡± He continued. ¡°I will be personally investing into an account that will be used to purchase raw materials for the guild to be made into the necessary weapons, equipment, and anything else we may need to operate efficiently. Any transactions related to this account will go through you and only you. And lastly, after the creation of our guild, you will take up the role of an administrative officer. You will manage the more logistical and administrative aspects of our operations.¡±


    ¡°Your wish is my command, Lord Amun.¡± I bowed. ¡°I will put my all into these tasks.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± He grinned before turning to the last of us. ¡°Jonet. As I told you before, I have no intention of having you operate solely as a healer. Instead, I have a more specialized role for you. You will be my eyes and ears. For you have an ability that I¡¯ll never have.¡±


    Her curiosity seemed to have been piqued by our Lord¡¯s words. As was mine, I had to admit.


    ¡°You have a knack for going unnoticed- for seamlessly blending in with a crowd of faces.¡± Lord Amun explained. ¡°Contrarily, I¡¯ll be recognized wherever I go. Because of that, I¡¯m going to have you be my reconnaissance officer.¡±


    ¡°You want me to¡­ to become a spy, My Lord?¡± She asked with visible confusion and apparent reluctance.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Lord Amun nodded. ¡°You will mainly work alone from the shadows; figuratively speaking of course. I may ask you to eavesdrop on people. Scry. Or at most, capture someone for interrogation. All for the sake of gathering information. You in particular will need to study the third book I¡¯ve given you closely. And I will be giving you more over the coming years as well.¡±


    ¡°I will do my best, Your Grace.¡± She bowed resolutely.


    ¡°Good.¡± Lord Amun grinned before starting towards the door. ¡°Now that that¡¯s in order, we¡¯ll begin our training.¡±


    ¡®What a wild ride that was.¡¯ I internally shook my head as I watched his figure recede through the doorway.


    I had more or less expected Lord Amun to have the ambition to become a Magus. And even form his own guild, somewhat. But that goal of his was enough to make me think he was insane. Ulai had been a monster-infested paradise for almost five-hundred years at this point. It would¡¯ve taken a deity to change that, I was sure.


    In addition to that, there was the matter of a hundred gold coins a week.


    In all, it was enough to leave me completely stupefied. Stupefied I would¡¯ve remained if it weren¡¯t for Toril breaking my trance with his barks of affirmations. With haste, I scrambled to secure the books in my trunk before following them out and down the corridor to the training court. All the while mentally languishing over the amiable claims the Lord had just made.


    ¡°We¡¯ll start with basic exercises.¡± Lord Amun explained after relocating us to the training court. ¡°Drills that¡¯ll increase our body coordination, reaction time, dexterity, and agility. After that, we¡¯ll move on with lessons in elemental manipulation. Followed by spell development.¡±


    ¡®Manipulation?¡¯ I winced before curtly nodding along. ¡®Hopefully, it¡¯ll be better than His Imperial HIghness'' teachings.¡¯


    If he noticed my moment of conjecture, Lord Amun said nothing as he bent down to dig his hand into the shadows and scoop out a bit of the amorphous material. Standing, he seemed to focus on it or do some other process to condense the darkness into a somewhat solid sphere before tossing it to Toril; who fumbled to catch it and immediately let out a strange yelp after securing it in his hands. A moment later, the Lord tossed me one as well. Like Toril, but much worse, I fumbled the ball in my hands before losing it entirely. Soundlessly, it bounced to a halt a few steps away from me and I quickly stepped after it to pick it up. Wherein, just like my peer, I let out an inadvertent gasp as the bitter cold bit at my fingers.


    ¡°We¡¯ll spend ten minutes a day doing this.¡± Lord Amun explained after distributing a ball to Jonet and turning to face the wall. After a simple toss, the shadow ball soundlessly bounced off the wall and arced back into his hand. ¡°Throw it with one hand. Catch it with one hand,¡± he said, repeating the motions.


    Toril and I seemed to have similar thoughts as we exchanged a glance with each other, yet turned to face the wall to repeat the Lord¡¯s actions without complaint.


    I had to admit, I¡¯d never felt so foolish as I did in those next ten minutes. Whether it was the blistering cold creeping up my hands or my sheer inability to do all things physical, I knew not the cause of my repetitive failures. I dropped the ball consistently. Over and over again. Never making it more than two or three times before I was scurrying off or bending over again to retrieve the numb-inducing sphere of darkness.


    Toril on the other hand.


    ¡°If it¡¯s too easy for you then go faster.¡± The Lord barked after noticing his effortless plight. ¡°You¡¯ll thank me in the long run.¡±


    As silly as it was, he seemed more serious about the exercises than anything else. Giving me second thoughts about my initial impression of this being a simple child¡¯s game.


    After ten minutes had passed, we moved on to do a few more drills Lord Amun planned for us: He made us stand in place and jump over a rope of shadows we¡¯d been told to swing around our bodies; we sat in a circle and squeezed the dark spheres as tightly and as many times as we could; we threw pebbles, rocks and blobs of shadow at specific branches or leaves nearby and tried to stand in place on a single leg while we moved the other leg around us in a half circle. All for ten minutes each, just like the first exercise. For the last exercise, though, he had us place our hands flat on a stump and attempt to lift a single finger at a time without moving the others. A task that wound up being surprisingly difficult for the lot of us.


    While we all were surely thinking the same thing, we remained silent and continued on with the drills until an hour had passed, wherein Lord Amun told us we were finished with the basics and were ready to relocate to the outer yards for the real training.

 16 - Elemental Theory

    Toril O''Connell.


    ***


    After our hour of solitary training, Lord Amun guided Jaimess, Jonet, and I through the formal wings of the estate to pass through the same set of great blackwood doors that we entered the week before we came here. As I¡¯d noticed and grown extremely uncomfortable with on our way in, the external yards of the Cole Estate held within it, a piercing silence that hung in the air, like the strings of a spider web pulled tautly. Creating a tension in the air that made one feel as if the trees themselves had eyes and were waiting to attack at any moment. The land itself was a frigid ring of abundant snow, rock outcroppings, massive, meters-wide trees, and ice-attributed flora arranged in an almost random fashion for a kilometer past the estate''s walls. And I was certain of not a single living animal existing within its borders.


    Excepting us, of course.


    In silence, we followed Lord Amun through the forest until we came to a stop before the strangest sight. A withered stump and a tree that¡¯d been felled in an odd manner, for there was not a single clean cut on the trunk. Only curved cuts and grooves impossible to make with an axe. Next to those strange things, he turned to face us with his arms proudly spread to his sides. ¡°This will be our training grounds from now on!¡± He excitedly proclaimed before dropping his arms to his sides to begin pacing. ¡°Now tell me, what weapons have you been trained in?¡±


    I stepped forward at once, bowing at the neck. ¡°I have experience fighting with my hands and have studied combat theory with the sword, My Lord. But have otherwise received no practical weapons training.¡±


    He silently nodded before turning to Jaimess and his meek expression.


    ¡°I have not studied or been trained in any weapons, My Lord.¡± Jaimess bowed somewhat apologetically. ¡°Only in academics.¡±


    ¡°Neither have I, My Lord.¡± Jonet quickly added. ¡°I only know recovery magic.¡±


    ¡°No matter.¡± Amun waved their apologetic auras aside. ¡°I¡¯ll have you two train with short blades for now until you decide what you want to use for yourselves. And, Toril.¡± He turned to me with a stern gaze. ¡°You will no longer be learning to use a sword.¡±


    ¡°B- But why, Your Grace?¡± I stammered, forcing my shaking head still.


    ¡°Swords are more than useless against armored or tough-skinned opponents.¡± Lord Amun curtly explained. ¡°Which, according to what I¡¯ve read, comprises most of the civilized species'' enemies; be them orcs or trolls or demons or dragons. Even other humans are commonly armored. Daggers are at least able to exploit the natural gaps or weaknesses in such armor using finesse; be those gaps natural or otherwise in nature. Swords, not so much.¡± He meekly shrugged. ¡°So, choose something that has either great piercing power, something that deals blunt damage in addition to cutting damage, or something with more mass like a mace or flail.¡±


    ¡°I- I understand.¡± I bowed. ¡°Then¡­¡± I hesitated as I struggled to think of what best to use. Other than reading about and sometimes carrying swords. The only thing I had any notable experience with was a bit of hand-to-hand fighting and chopping fire- ¡®Oh.¡¯


    It was so obvious. So much so that I felt a bit of shame as I resolutely met the Lord''s gaze. ¡°I shall use an axe, My Lord.¡±


    ¡°Good. As for me.¡± He nodded, then walked over to a tree whilst conjuring a holed plate of what appeared to be a more sinister concentration of shadow magic.


    After conjuring the abyssal disk, it began floating out and upwards towards the crest of a young tree, where it hovered in place for a moment before descending upon the trunk. Me, Jaimess, and even the placid Jonet became visibly horrified at seeing the snow, branches and most of the trunk itself simply disappear from existence. Like snowfall, snow-capped twigs fell helplessly to the ground as the branches they were attached to were consumed by the spell. All that remained was a long staff gaping through the center of the disk; a hole that Lord Amun collapsed once a long and thick stick had been formed. Leaving it to haphazardly fall before him and awaken the forest with the echoes of knocked wood.


    He then spent the next few moments carving a blade out of the end piece using a bit of the same magic formed to resemble a long claw before finally finishing the product and holding it overhead. ¡°The spear will be my primary weapon of choice!¡±


    He then turned back to the felled tree that served as a landmark and began the same process three more times. Carving out a pair of daggers for Jaimess and Jonet in addition to a flared one-handed axe for myself. And for the next hour or so, the Lord had us conducting basic drills. Continuously, monotonously, we slashed, stabbed, and swung our weapons at the umbral the clones he summoned from our shadows; our Doppelgangers, only stopping to hear the ghostly wail of our clones criticize and correct our forms every so often.


    A strange experience, to say the least.


    Everything we did was closely analyzed by the Lord and immediately rectified on the spot through our Doppelgangers. Even I, who¡¯d been trained since I could stand, received many pointers from the Lord that not even His Imperial Highnesses'' best instructors failed to notice. Concepts like ¡®leverage¡¯ and ¡®momentum¡¯ and ''force'' and ¡®rotation¡¯ and ''mass'' and more, how they applied to something as chaotic as fighting. Ideas that even made Jaimess¡¯ little frame gain slightly more power. With the passing of the hour, we cast the weapons aside at Lord Amun¡¯s order and moved on to a short demonstration in unarmed combat. In that, I quickly grew fascinated. Particularly in the art the Lord referred to as ¡®grappling.¡¯ Wherein he¡¯d wrestle us to the ground and either choke us out with our collars and his limbs or place tension on our joints with the leverage of his body. A style he highly recommended Jaimess to use along with himself and Jonet, as it favored someone with a smaller, more agile frame and allowed them to easily break someone''s joints or limbs in ways that ignored brute strength.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    After that brief, but knowledgeable demonstration, we took a short break just after nine in the evening and ventured back into the service wing for a late-night snack. A lapse in training that I was certainly grateful for. As Mr. Flay¡¯s meals were undoubtedly one of the greatest benefits of living in the Cole Estate. Not only did he cook us whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted. But his meals were always just enough to leave me fully satiated, though not so much as to make me sleepy. On the contrary, the meals seemed to significantly boost my energy and made me think of the long days I was now subjected to, as an afterthought.


    Under any other circumstances, I¡¯d have been burnt out. Of that, I was certain.


    While Lord Amun would be just heading to bed, Jonet, Jaimess, and I would awake at seven in the morning and head to our classes after breakfast. While I was unsure of what the others were up to during that time, I would spend the next five hours studying combat theories, learning the laws of chivalry; or the knight''s code of conduct, cleaning equipment, and conducting endurance training before going to lunch just after 1 o¡¯clock. Then, the next four hours would be spent in my formal classes; learning about literature, arithmetic, courtly manners, and musical studies before finishing the day with an hour of chess.


    With the passing of dinner and around an hour of downtime, the Lord would emerge from the shadows at around 7 in the evening; just as the sun was setting. In the beginning, that would be when the Lord would slip through dimensions and reappear in the library, wherein he¡¯d then spend the entirety of the night reading and writing. Leaving us to resume our rest period until we retired for the night. After this night, however, those long hours of rest and relaxation would instead be spent conducting additional training until the Lord Amun found himself satisfied.


    Whenever that may have been.


    Our return to the exterior yards at ten came the moment Jaimess and I were either dreading or looking forward to the most. Elemental Manipulation. Personally, I had been looking forward to seeing His Grace¡¯s prowess ever since His Imperial Highness first mentioned his need for two vassals back at the academy. If His Grace was truly the grandson of the High Necro King, then his potential for magic and manipulation had to be nothing short of legendary.


    He sat in his ''lotus position'' before the rotted stump and asked us to sit before him. Jaimess must have noticed the sudden class-like atmosphere, as he eagerly lowered himself into the same position and gave Lord Amun his undivided attention. I instead, sat on my legs with my knees out in front of me; as sitting that way caused too much pain to my hips. Though I began to reconsider my actions once Jonet sat in much the same position.


    ¡°I need you all to learn my theories on elemental manipulation.¡± Lord Amun began. ¡°Now, it''s agreed that humans use mana to bend or manipulate the elements at will. And that is what we call Elemental Manipulation. Correct?¡±


    ¡°That is correct, Lord Amun.¡± Jaimess quickly nodded.


    ¡°My theory is that such avenues of thinking are wrong.¡± He countered with a curious grin worn on his face, unsurprisingly causing Jaimess to recoil in surprise. ¡°Instead of using mana like a glove or a second hand that takes hold of the elements.¡± Lord Amun went on to say. ¡°We¡¯re instead supposed to use mana to create an environment that will allow the element in question to behave as it would in nature.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t understand, My Lord.¡± I shook my head in confusion.


    ¡°Fire a gust of air at that tree.¡± He ordered, pointing to one of the massive trees to my left.


    Without a word, I rose to my feet and turned my attention to the designated target. With only a bit of focus, I pulled a constant stream of mana over my hand, dragging the air along with it at a faster and faster rate before extending my hand outward. As my arm fully extended, a small vortex of air billowed over my hand and smacked into the tree with a dull thud and small plops of loosed snow. In turn, causing a frigid gust to wash over my body.


    ¡°Nice.¡± Lord Amun nodded after I turned back to face him and bowed. Then, he stood and took up my earlier position before the tree.


    If he focused then, I failed to notice. I only felt a surge of mana cascading toward his hand before he outstretched his palm in much the same manner as I had. Instead of a billowing vortex, however, a near-visible pillar of air burst forth from his hand, impacting the tree with such force that the bark splintered and a raging tempest uplifted the snow around the trunk.


    ¡°W- what.¡± I gasped lungfuls of the fine white dust uncaringly, for my eyes were in disbelief at the shredded bark that came from a mere gust of wind. ¡°What¡­ what was that?¡± I turned to Lord Amun, mouth agape.


    ¡°Compressed air.¡± He casually explained as he held out his hand once again. Just as before; albeit far slower, a field of mana surged from beyond the treetops towards the center of his palm, concentrating the air itself into the center of his hand. Where he held it and said. ¡°Imagine that everything; air, water, and even the ground itself; are all made of tiny particles far too small for us to see by normal means. Just like the energy in our mana wells.¡± He gestured to his chest with his free hand. ¡°The amount of particles in any given area is what¡¯s called, density. By increasing the density of air, pressure is simultaneously increased. And pressure is the key to manipulating air.¡±


    He charmingly grinned at us before extending his palm towards the tree once again. Focusing this time, I saw the sphere of mana he created to condense the air change shape into that of a pipe that of a short pipe, crimped at the middle to allow only a bit of air to pass through. Though I still had yet to see how that resulted in such a scene of destruction unfolding before our awed eyes.


    ¡°Pressure.¡± He repeated as he turned to face us once more. ¡°That is the secret behind air manipulation.¡±


    After a few moments of silent contemplation, Jaimess looked up to the Lord with practically glistening eyes ¡°Incredible.¡± He nearly cried. ¡°And what of fire, My Lord?¡±


    ¡°Fire is different.¡± He quickly explained with a dismissive wave. ¡°You can think of it as something that requires a specific formula to create: air, fuel, and heat.¡± Demonstrating, the Lord held out his hand and began concentrating a significant amount of mana in a coin-sized region of his palm. ¡°The fuel, in this case, is provided by mana. As is the initial heat source.¡± With that said, he flicked his thumb casually, yet I sensed the mana around that ''coin'' sort of grind against itself to generate something not quite like a spark. Yet it ignited the concentrated energy into a fist-sized bonfire all the same.


    While small, its heat licked at our exposed skin as we watched in amazement from over a meter away.


    ¡°Once it¡¯s ignited,¡± Lord Amun said. ¡°The surrounding air will keep the flame lit, so long as there¡¯s a fuel source; or a stream of mana keeping it alive. Earth and water, however, are both as straightforward as they were before. For now at least.¡± The Lord sighed, then swiftly rose his fist as if he were cursing someone; causing the sitting snow next to him to suddenly explode upwards and reveal a small lump of stone.


    ¡®For now, at least.¡¯ I wondered about the meaning of his words before he spread his arms out once again, halting my thoughts almost immediately.


    ¡°This is the standard for all who follow me.¡± He coldly declared over the small flame still cackling away in his hand. ¡°We¡¯ll practice this for two hours before retiring for the night. And this schedule will continue until you master my manipulation theories.


    ¡°After that.¡± He wickedly grinned. ¡°We¡¯ll move on to the next stage.¡±


    ¡®The next stage.¡¯ I despairingly chuckled to myself while nodding my affirmations. ¡®This stage is already unreal.¡¯

 17 - The Mortal Plane

    As the days passed into weeks, then the months to nearly a year, the training of my vassals continued without pause. And during that time, my lessons with Mr. Brooks had grown increasingly shorter.


    After my bender in the library and my visits thereafter, I was no longer dependent on him to give me studying material. As such, his planned lectures usually wound up consisting of him asking me what I¡¯d read and me explaining in vivid detail everything I knew about the topic at hand and more. As much as he seemed delighted about my intellect, however, he also became visibly flustered every time I answered him in such a way. Made evident by his self-mutterings while his arms maddeningly shuffled through his bag of slightly arranged documents to presumably decide upon the next course of study. At which time I¡¯d begin the question and answer sessions anew. With nearly the whole of the library being cataloged in my Eternal Eye, such acts played out again and again until I was receiving lessons from my tutor only once a fortnight. Leaving me with an abundance of time mostly spent transcribing textbooks and manuals for my vassals.


    It was a few weeks before my sixth birthday when it happened. Like any other day, I dipped through the shadows sometime in the morning and emerged in the formal area of the house to step into the private office that¡¯d been designated as my classroom. Only to find my father excitedly talking up a storm to a somewhat deflated Mr. Brooks sitting across from him.


    ¡°Ah, Amun! You¡¯re here!¡± Father turned to me after I entered, cheesing like a teenager in an augmentation clinic.


    ¡°I am.¡± I nodded slowly in confusion. ¡°What¡¯s the issue?¡±


    ¡°No issue.¡± Father shook his head, displaying his palms as a gesture of nonaggression. ¡°Wilmont here was simply telling me of your genius.¡±


    I turned my inquisitive eyes from my father towards Mr. Brooks, who simply smiled and nodded as if in defeat1. ¡°It¡¯s true. You¡¯ve proven your genius to me time and time again, Your Grace. I planned on teaching you until you were at least ten years old. And yet.¡± He ruefully chuckled. ¡°You¡¯ve learned everything I aimed to teach you within the span of a year. All on your own, at that! An incredible accomplishment, truly.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for your kind words.¡± I bowed before returning my gaze to him. ¡°So, I assume this means our lessons are over?¡±


    ¡°It does, I¡¯m afraid. I have nothing left to teach Your Grace and as such, your basic education is complete. It was an honor.¡±


    ¡°The honor was mine.¡± I shook my head in response to his bow. ¡°Your books were particularly helpful to me. Without them, it would¡¯ve taken much longer to get to this point.¡± He let out a rueful chuckle at the words and sheepishly looked away while scratching the back of his head. ¡®I guess that¡¯s not a compliment.¡¯ I laughed inside before speaking again. ¡°That said, there are still some things I¡¯m unsure about.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± He turned with raised brows. ¡°Such as?¡±


    ¡°About the realms.¡± I stepped closer. ¡°The Mortal Plane.¡±


    ¡°You have a look of disbelief about you, Amun.¡± My father commented from his seat. ¡°A rarity, I might say.¡±


    ¡°Quite frankly, I don¡¯t believe it,¡± I huffed. ¡°How do we know so much about it? How can something so large exist without it... crumbling apart? How was it measured? And how do we know of the different realms? These are my most pertinent questions.¡±


    He seemed taken aback a little by my sudden enthusiasm. But after taking a deep breath and putting on a content smile, he casually rose from his seat and approached the enchanted fireplace before gesturing to the chalkboard directly above it. ¡°May I?¡± He smiled warmly.


    ¡°Please.¡± I nodded, taking his seat. ¡°Tell me everything.¡±


    With a bow, he turned to the slate board and began... waving to it. In turn, some machinations within began drawing a large disk, much like a CD; only with a large sphere in the middle that could have only represented the sun, Tiatus.


    ¡°Maru''s recorded history dates back 1,481 years.¡± He began. ¡°Before that time, we had no knowledge of the many species that exist on the Mortal Plane. We knew only of the dwarves and halflings living among us humans; of the vast underground labyrinths that stretch beneath the continents and surrounding seas; and of the uncrossable, impossibly vast oceans that surround our realm- Maru.¡± He punctuated his words by stabbing his ''chalk'' at a seemingly indiscriminate point in said oceans. A small island in an endless sea that enhanced to display four relatively microscopic continents.


    ¡°While many have tried.¡± He continued. ¡°None have made it through; or if they did, no word was ever sent back to us in Maru. We were trapped in our realm, vast though it may be. Unknowing of anything outside of us until a series of magical gates appeared across the continent of Ulai. Marking the beginning of the zeroth year. Commonly.¡± He paused to turn and flick his chalk at me, somehow translating to his drawing reforming itself to the prior image. ¡°This is known as the catalyst for an invasion from otherworldly creatures that would last for over a millennium.¡±


    I nodded along during his pause. As everything he¡¯d said so far stood true to everything that I¡¯d read.


    ¡°What¡¯s rarely written about, however.¡± My father suddenly interjected, allowing Mr. Brooks to continue etching out his masterpiece without distractions. ¡°Is the fact that the invasion was double-sided. While these inhuman creatures did indeed invade and wage war on Maru for over a thousand years; so to did countless mystics, adventurers, guilds, merchants, militaries, and even entire empires venture through the gates. They all spread throughout the lands beyond the gates in droves, Amun. And after the majority of them came running back to Maru, they documented what lie beyond the gates."


    ¡°That isn¡¯t to say Maru was untouched, though.¡± My father ceased his sudden laughter with a somber sigh. ¡°The Ulaian continent was considered a Necropolis- a Dead Zone within a century of the gates appearing. The continent of Phaegrath was engulfed in war just a decade after, and by the year 125, the front lines had made it all the way to the Epethian Continent. This persuaded many of the existing guilds to band together and form what is now known as the Guild Association, of which there are branches in both Maru and Nonus. It then took over three centuries of constant fighting to force the line back and secure the gates.¡±


    ¡°The most famous guild to deny the banner of the Guild Association was none other than New Dawn.¡± Mr. Brooks chimed in, turning from his near-complete board. ¡°Seeing as how they single-handedly led every force through the Nonusian Gate connecting our realm to Nonus, they deemed it beneath them. At the time, they were led by a sorcerer of light who went by the name of Lucius Morningstar. And he,¡± Mr. Brooks grinned with a point of his chalk, ¡°is responsible for measuring the Mortal Plane.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded. ¡®If he used light, that makes it accurate. If not believable. This¡­ Lucius essentially used himself as a lidar to not only measure the Plane but to map it as well. And judging by its size, it must¡¯ve taken a few hours for all the light to come streaming back to him.''


    ¡°So then¡­ the linear distance from the inner rim of the Mortal Plane to the outer edge is approximately 1,340,380,800 kilometers. And the Plane wraps around Tiatus in its entirety. That is what he measured?¡± I asked, still in obvious disbelief. It was Nine astronomical Units, after all. Equivalent to a solid plate that started in the orbit of Mercury and ended in the orbit of fucking Saturn. Because of course, it did. I loved Saturn as much as anyone, Saturnian founder or not. Still, however, that was a bit excessive. I traveled the distance in a torch ship, so I failed to imagine how humans could cross such a distance on foot. Magical affinities or not.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Mr. Brooks nodded as if it wasn''t the craziest thing in existence to say. ¡°After they fortified the gates in the early sixth century, the New Dawn Guild began sending groups to colonize the lands beyond the portals. In time, they erected entire empires. As things go, some fell into obscurity while others, like Polaris, thrived. In time, their Empire dug in its roots atop the gate linking Nonus to Maru. Trade routes and transportation lanes that weren''t dependent on the Gates were established. Among the first of these routes was a link between Maru and the realms-famous Arcane Institute, yet many more were constructed to link Maru to their ever-expanding empire. Once they did, Polaris and every other civilization that rose beneath New Dawn''s wing left their lanes open, inviting those of Maru to forsake Maru in favor of Nonus. Never again did they return to Maru.


    "Because of that, what was left of the Marulean races fought alone for the next seven centuries. In all that time, only one gate was said to change, though it was never confirmed until a gate spontaneously appeared in the early twelve-hundreds. Here!¡± He gestured around us. ¡°In what would later become the Twin Empires, Deapou and Odissi, a gate appeared.¡±


    ¡°And through, it came the elves,¡± I concluded. ¡°So that means, after Ulai was sealed behind the barrier, the humans who went through the non-Nonusian gates were cut off from Maru forever. Or if they did, they were... imprisoned. In Ulai.¡±


    ¡°Precisely.¡± My father nodded solemnly. ¡°With the elves came an abundance of knowledge; among other things.¡± He smirked as he gazed somewhere beyond the walls from the side of his eye. ¡°Notably, how to awaken the ability to awaken greater magic. Affinity Cores. But also knowledge of the many realms and creatures that lie beyond. Greatly expanding what we thought we knew.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± Mr. Brooks concurred. ¡°You see, the Mortal Plane has been the largest center of focus for a vast number of creatures since time immemorial. And among us all, we have come to recognize four distinct Zones within the Mortal Plane. Three of which are dominated by a unique tree of life. And each of these zones is further subdivided into Realms that are dominated by a different tree of life.


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    "The first of these zones is the Inner Reaches, closest to Tiatus, our sun.¡± Mr. Brooks pointed to the inner rim of his disk as it expanded to depict a mind-breaking wall placed before the sun. ¡°Here exists a wall, thousands of kilometers in height. Though we are unaware of its function, we have confirmed its existence and refer to this realm as Gray Terminus. Just before that wall is a realm enveloped in perpetual shade. The Black Plane. While unremarkable, it is here that the existence of a truly unbreakable material was discovered. Neither might nor magic can damage this material that serves as the Plane''s very foundation. Just beyond that is the Close Reaches, an immensely hot tempest of vaporized stone and metal. There, exists more unbreakable material known as the plane''s core. And after that lies the Far Reaches, an area where the very rock and magma that sits atop the core of the Mortal Plane gets vaporized and blasted back outwards from Tiatus¡¯ radiance.¡±


    ¡®That¡¯s metal as fuck!¡¯ I cackled inside.


    ¡°Naturally.¡± Mr. Brooks continued by pointing to the first section of shaded landmass found on the Plane. A thick band that occupied upwards of a third of the inner rim. Atop which stood a tree that, according to his scale, was comparable in size to a gas giant. ¡°Hell is the zone just north of the Inner Reaches. North being away from the sun. Not to be confused with the Hells, the first realm of the Hell Zone is called Mercultis. It is most famous for being the southernmost point of solid ground. There, bedrock and metal are either vaporized and blasted south or condensed above the half-molten lands to rain down in the next realm in ways similar to our snow, sleet, and hail. That realm is Exol. A volcanic, lava-rich zone that¡¯s most notably recognized by the showers of molten rock and metal that pour down on the lands to form vast, flowing oceans, lakes, and rivers of molten material. They are said to churn all throughout the land on their way north, where they''ll later settle and solidify in Vagua.


    "When one mentions the Hells or even Hell," Mr. Brooks said, slapping his ''chalk'' on that planetary tree. "Vagua is often what they mean. The realm of blistering land of rock metal is the birthplace of demons. So too, however, do both vampires and devils reside in the realm. Continuing on, the last zone of Hell is Conum.¡± He pointed again, panning the map to a land pocked with what appeared to be water-filled craters of varying sizes and shapes. ¡°The northernmost border of Conum is near the point where water begins to form. As such, the simmering seas and boiling lakes at its border often causes the realm to be obscured in the annals of history. Instead, those of all realms consider the southern borders as part of Vagua. And the northern border as a realm of its own. A chain of lakes, rivers, and archipelagos bathed in dense steam. The Steamline.


    ¡°This forms a natural border between Hell and Paradise, the third Zone.¡± He said, pointing to a map of the Plane in its entirety, highlighting a central band to what appeared to be a vast archipelago from this scale. Three of them. Chains of land stretching from the southernmost border of Paradis to the northern edge, broken apart by coin-sized ¡®lakes¡¯ and vast ''seas.''


    ¡°Within Paradise sits four realms separated by oceans of immense proportions. One, the smallest of which, is Maru.¡± I squinted to see the small dot of land masses at the end of his pointer. It was in the same area he highlighted at the beginning of his lecture. A series of dots that were supposed to represent the vast continents I already familiarized myself with. ¡°As for the others.¡± Mr. Brooks panned to the far side of Tiatus to expose the first of those ''archipelagos.'' ¡°The first of them is Youtera, Motherland of Elvenkind. A land where few humans have ever stepped foot. Next." He paused, resetting the picture to display Maru before it panned counterclockwise- east across the interplanetary sea. It was about half the width of Youtera but significantly closer to Maru than any other landmass. Not that it mattered. "We have Betrarth. The birthplace of orc and goblin-kind. The rest of the land in Paradise is what we call, Nonus.¡± He explained as the map again shifted back to Maru, then continued west and expanded to depict an ''archipelago'' occupying nearly a third of Paradise. "The boundless land home to Polaris and their extensive empire.


    ¡°Beyond the White Walls lies the White Worlds, the final Zone.¡± He pointed further north to the massive region of ice that seemed to encompass over half of the disk''s radius. ¡°What¡¯s known as the White Wall and all that¡¯s frozen at its base are formerly called Cyamis. At its core is a sheer cliff of ice that stretches much higher than Gray Terminus. The next realm, Taton, extends from the summit to no less than 50,000 kilometers beyond the edge. It is a gelid region nearly devoid of air, but full of life. Beyond that, lies the land of frost creatures and ice giants, Nilfheim. A region plagued by ice volcanoes and ancient lava flows that combine to thicken the air to above-normal levels, creating a band of eternal thunderstorms around the entire region.


    ¡°Lastly, there is the literal end of the world that few have seen and fewer dared approach. Egedil.¡± He sighed, somewhat with relief.


    ¡°Jesus,¡± I commented to myself, still in disbelief.


    ¡°Who?¡± They both shook their heads at once.


    ¡°No one.¡± I waved it aside. ''Gotta stop saying that.'' I told myself before turning to them. ¡°So then, there are still people living in each of these realms?¡±


    ¡°In Nonus, definitely.¡± My father nodded. ¡°While the otherworldly creatures and the portals themselves were trapped behind the barrier, that wasn¡¯t to say humans were stuck on Maru. As Mr. Brooks pointed out, Polaris constructed a light bridge between the edge of their empire and Maru. Due to the dangers present on the other side, however, only the strongest of us Maruleans are freely able to make the transit.¡±


    ¡°The assessment.¡± I nodded in understanding. ¡®It¡¯s all coming together.¡¯


    ¡°Precisely.¡± Father nodded. ¡°If you pass, you will attend the magic academy and be granted unrestricted access to not only Nonus but the rest of the Mortal Plane as well. However, Amun.¡± Father continued in a more ominous tone. ¡°The finer details of history aren¡¯t found in the books for a reason, do you understand?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡± I quickly nodded, as I was busy forming theories based on what I¡¯d just learned. ¡®Despite there being pockets of humanity scattered everywhere; possibly. This¡­ New Dawn, is running what could potentially be the largest group of organized humans on the Mortal Plane. But with what purpose or goal? If anything, I can only assume they want to explore and conquer as much of this vast realm as they can. An effort that I assume will take tens, if not hundreds of centuries to accomplish. Wrongly so, most likely. Additionally, that was all but verified to be a sugar-coated version of history that I¡¯d just heard as well. Thus the only true course of action is to discover the truth for myself.


    ''And I was born with the perfect way to do it.''


    ¡°Thank you for your lecture, Mr. Brooks.¡± I bowed to him. ¡°You¡¯ve answered all of my questions in full. I hope you find nothing but success and safety during your future endeavors. And I hope to see you again in the future.¡±


    ¡°As do I, Your Grace.¡± He smiled as he bowed. ¡°I know you¡¯ll become a great magus.¡±


    With that, he said some departing words to my father before gathering his things and leaving with nothing more than a nod my way. And once he was gone, I turned to my father with a newfound sense of vigor. ¡°Dad,¡± I firmly said. ¡°Now that my education is complete, I would like to turn my energy towards learning the things that I want to learn.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± He perked up at my words and turned to me. ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve already said you¡¯d allow it, but I have yet to actually go hunting or fishing with Gerolt,¡± I explained. ¡°My vassals and I need to learn how to hunt, butcher, and cook for ourselves. And hunting will also give us an opportunity to further develop our magic and fighting skills. Furthermore, my vassals and I need to begin proper weapons training and be granted access to an area where we can freely use our magic. A place that can challenge us, and where property damage won¡¯t be an issue.¡±


    ¡°Those are all fine points,¡± Father mused as he stroked his chin. ¡°Very well, I¡¯ll speak to Gerolt about taking you hunting. Again. If he¡¯s unwilling, I¡¯ll allow you to go out yourselves, but only after your next birthday, Amun. Surely you can wait until you¡¯re seven to go out on your own?¡±


    ¡®Again? Unwilling?¡¯ I squinted before internally shaking my head. ¡°That¡¯s no problem. There are some things I wanted to teach my vassals, and that¡¯ll give me just the time to do so.¡±


    ¡°Then, it¡¯s agreed.¡± Father smiled, extending his hand. ¡°Gerolt can take you hunting, you can venture outside the external yards with your vassals. And after your next birthday, you¡¯ll be allowed to venture wherever you want within our territory on the island. Please. Just¡­ be careful.¡±


    I looked in confusion at his hand for a second. Nearly six years on this planet and it was the first time I¡¯d ever seen someone extend such a gesture to another. ¡®Perhaps it¡¯s only for deals or agreements? No matter.'' I grinned wide as I shook my father¡¯s hand firmly. And after a short dismissal, I stepped into my shadow and sped through the night to the service wing.


    As always, Jonet was not far behind me, nearly sprinting through physical space from outside the classroom to Jaimess and Toril¡¯s quarters to see me stepping back into reality as she rounded the corner.


    After a few knocks, Toril opened the door with a bow before stepping aside to grant us entry. ¡°Your Grace.¡±


    No matter how much I saw it, I couldn¡¯t help but internally groan every time I laid eyes on their living arrangements. It wasn¡¯t a bad barracks; or dorm, depending on how one looked at it. It was even quite spacious, with two desks that sat in the middle of the room, opposing each other with a high partition set in between. Their beds sat in opposing corners of the room. Toril¡¯s to the left of the door and Jaimess¡¯ in the far right corner. Each with large trunks at their feet and furnishings that functioned as both a wardrobe and a nightstand.


    Better than how they were living at my grandfather¡¯s school, I assumed. They even had their own bathroom. But the thought of having my vassals share a room was enough to irk my nerves entirely. If they were to serve me for life, then I felt that they deserved only the best of whatever was given them, whether it was food, shelter, clothing, or knowledge.


    If I was to become a living god in this world, then they would have to become my demigods.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you taking your studies seriously.¡± I grinned at Jaimess, lying across the bed like he was talking on the phone with his girlfriend; complete with his feet kicked up in the air, spinning idly.


    He removed his eyes from my book on tactics for the first time and looked at me with wide eyes before leaping from the bed. ¡°Lord Amun!¡± He gasped, approaching me with eyes of the mad. ¡°These survival techniques, methods of attack, they¡¯re¡­ they¡¯re unlike anything I¡¯ve ever heard! Most of them don¡¯t even require magic!¡± He chuckled in awed despair. Where did you learn them?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s unimportant.¡± I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s only important that you all understand the material. Thoroughly.¡±


    ¡°Yes, My Lord.¡± He quickly bowed, half-shattered by my lack of candor.


    ¡®Perhaps one day I¡¯ll tell you all.¡¯ I chuckled inside. ¡®Though, I doubt you¡¯d even believe me. So, maybe not.¡¯


    ¡°That¡¯s for another time, however.¡± I quickly said, turning on my heels for the door. ¡°It¡¯s time to train.¡±


    Toril eagerly turned to situate his bed and belongings before trotting back to my side to await an equally eager Jaimess to situate his things and join us. Once out, I stayed silent as I tried to figure out how to best explain these concepts to them. A brainstorm that took longer than intended, as I was still muttering to myself long after we arrived.


    ¡°L- Lord Amun?¡± Jaimess hesitantly asked while pointing to my shadow. ¡°Are we not conducting our drills?¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes. Of course.¡± I snapped back to reality and quickly squatted down to scoop up three balls of darkness from my shadow. ¡°Let¡¯s begin.¡±

 18 - Full Sprint

    The last year or so consisted of my vassals continuing both their daily studies and our five hours of nightly training. As such, it was often difficult for me to gauge their slow and steady improvements. Therein lay the reason for my hesitation before we began training. Instead, I peered into my Eternal Eye to look back on our first night of training and a few sessions thereafter to compare what I saw then to what was before me now.


    The differences were astounding.


    Most improved, of course, was Jaimess. He comically struggled with all things physical at first. Within only a few months, however, he had improved to the point of being on par with the rest of us. His dexterity and coordination in particular increased by leaps and bounds. Made evident by the shade ball that seemed to be magnetized to his hands as it ricocheted off the trees at a dribble-like pace; just like Toril, soon after we first began. In addition to that turnaround, he no longer tripped or fell when jumping rope and regularly looked bored during our routine balancing acts in the high branches. Similarly, his proficiency with short blades improved. No longer was he awkwardly wielding the wooden knife or fidgeting whilst tucking it into his belt or otherwise handling it. More so, he hasn¡¯t inadvertently ¡®cut¡¯ or hit himself in over four months as he swung and stabbed at the amorphous flesh of his doppelganger with a surprisingly tenacious ferocity.


    Jonet too was a bit sluggish after first starting. Though not as badly as Jaimess and not for the same reasons. She was hesitant to fight. And the reason was made evident in her facial expressions when fighting. I knew not the specifics, but I¡¯d seen it before. The look of one who''d been indoctrinated or brainwashed into believing violence was wrong. Under what ''logic'' or for what reason, I couldn¡¯t have cared less. I only knew that her hesitation wasn¡¯t caused by fear, trauma, or an innate aversion to violence. Thus I cared only about her overcoming such avenues of thinking.


    It took time. It took both gentle and not-so-gentle words of encouragement. Most of all, it took effort. From both of us. But eventually, she overcame her beliefs and began putting her all into our combat training. And she developed rather quickly after doing so. Or rather, she simply started to practice what she¡¯d been holding back this entire time- a natural-born athletic talent. With her potential realized, she then went on to strive toward turning her talent into something truly remarkable.


    Whether it was our coordination training or weapons drills or anything else that we found ourselves doing, Jonet displayed a fluidity and elegance akin to a combined dancer, gymnast, and circus performer. It was like watching an athlete in their competitive environment, with motions that appeared more like demonstrations of a sacred art rather than the repetitive training I¡¯d scheduled for us.


    Toril on the other hand, was already adept and coordinated with his body movements. Still, I pushed him forward dutifully so I could instill in him a non-complacent attitude coupled with a mindset that strived for constant self-improvement. As he¡¯d one day become the military commander of the guild, I felt that those traits would be among the most important for him to develop early on.


    With that in mind, I spent most of the abundant free time I had in the past year transcribing books for my vassals to study. Algebra and geometry; classical mechanics and simple machines; the scientific method; hygiene and germ theory; astronomy; philosophy and sociology; psychology and anatomy; culinary science and nutrition; military doctrine and logistics. Even magic and spellcasting. Almost everything I¡¯d either professionally or casually studied over the course of my past life and in a little of this one was summoned from my Eternal Eye and painstakingly copied for my vassals to learn at their own paces. And though I periodically tested them all, none were as rigorously tested as Toril.


    It took over six months, but eventually his catchphrase- ¡®I don¡¯t understand, My Lord,¡¯ had reduced in frequency to an all-time low. Conversely, his formerly lacking prowess in elemental manipulation had grown to an all-time high. Looking at him now made it clear he was the best among us at manipulating fire. And his air manipulation wasn¡¯t too far off from mine. Jaimess on the other hand, was undoubtedly the strongest in terms of gripping the earth beneath us. And Jonet seemed to have an innate understanding of water manipulation, most likely due to her ice affinity.


    Overall, it was clear to me that we all were ready to move on to the next step.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I sighed after hitting yet another tree with a column of air. Then looked at my three little followers releasing their holds on the elements to give me their undivided attention. ¡°We are now ready to move on to the next stage of our training. Going forward, we¡¯ll continue with an hour of dexterity drills. However, instead of drilling with weapons after, we¡¯ll be fighting.¡±


    Toril''s brows rose excitedly. ¡°Against each other, My Lord?¡±


    I simply shook my head and watched their eyes follow my finger, pointing to their condensing shadows before their dark mirrors rose from their two-dimensional plane. ¡°You¡¯ve seen it before, but allow me to tell you all a little about my Doppelganger Spell." I paused to begin pacing around the umbral copies and their originals. "These are indeed clones of yourselves, made from the essence of the umbral plane. As such, they hold the same strength and abilities as you. The difference, however, well¡­¡± I sighed before sending an order to the doppelgangers. And as one, they jumped to life; reeling back their arms to deliver a sucker punch straight to the original''s faces.


    Their heads simultaneously rocked back in a comic fashion before they fell limp in the snow, groaning and rolling about in phantom pain. And then they started scrambling.


    ¡°What!¡± Jaimess shouted first as he frantically waved his arms around. ¡°I- I can¡¯t see!¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I reached out to withdraw the shadow mana infecting their bodies, then waited a few moments for them to regain their composures. ¡°How¡¯d it feel?¡± I asked, trying not to smile in amusement.


    ¡°Like a strong punch from a soft hand.¡± Jonet immediately huffed.


    Followed by Toril¡¯s shivers. ¡°It was cold, My Lord.¡±


    ¡°And... blinding," Jaimess added with a curse under his breath. ¡°Literally.¡±


    ¡°Seeing is believing.¡± I pivoted away from them with a shrug in a half-hearted attempt at hiding my amusement. ¡°Being ¡®killed¡¯ by your doppelganger means being infected with shadow mana, which in turn robs you of your senses. Despite you being convinced otherwise, a blade of shadow will never cut. And though blunt strikes will sting a little, the darkness itself isn¡¯t life-threatening. In this context, it is a handicap for them.¡± I explained, raising my finger warningly. ¡°Thus your Doppelgangers will not hold back in the slightest. To defeat ourselves will require us to fight with all our might.¡±


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    ¡°I accept the challenge!¡± Toril growled, facing his doppelganger with a wicked grin.


    ¡®Not as if you have a choice.¡¯ I chuckled to myself before facing my clone- Numa, with a similar grin. ¡°We¡¯ll go for one hour. Unlimited rounds, lasting until there¡¯s a winner. Win or lose, a five-minute break comes after. Then it''s back to it. Once the hour¡¯s up, we break for thirty and go again with weapons.¡±


    With that said, I raised my arm like a proctor starting a race before letting it fall.


    ¡°Fight!¡±


    I lunged forth with a jab after my call. And so to did Numa, closing the distance in just a few steps with a pair of jabs that first countered my own before landing square in my jaw, jarring me slightly to my knees and leaving me with the stinging residual pain of a slap. I swung out a backhand as I attempted to right myself and my clone briefly halted his advance to deftly dodge my swing. Then lunged forward again, kicking out the hips to stamp his semi-solid boot into my unguarded ribs.


    I felt a wet, labored cough spread a stinging pain through my torso as I turned, fought, and thrashed about in the snow; aiming to turn my back to the ground and achieve a favorable position before my clone was upon me. Numa, however, simply stepped forth and punted my head like a football, jarring my entire world into a blurred landscape of whites and browns. My mouth filled with the ferrous taste of my own weakness. Then I felt a slight pressure- a weight, along with the cold touch of darkness making contact with my chest.


    Then my nose erupted in eye-watering pain.


    Followed by my eye.


    Then my cheek. Chin. The other eye. Again and again. Erupting in new plots of pain on my face from the rain of Numa''s hands. In vain, I tried to block and fight back with blows to the ribs and kicks to the back of the head. But alas, I was done for.


    When I finally accepted defeat, Numa halted mid-punch and immediately stepped aside to idly stare as I crawled back to my feet.


    ''Fuck!'' I cackled madly as I slid down a trunk to sit mere moments later. Then cackled again after looking over at my equally worn and beaten vassals under idle observation by their clones. ¡®No time for warm-ups, I suppose.¡¯ I sighed. Then began thinking back to when I first designed the spell and the many conditions I placed on it. That it remained persistent in a two-dimensional form and grow alongside the original; to not only follow my orders but to be able to act independently and to mimic all abilities of the original.


    While I had yet to verify the last condition and everything else seemed true, there were the natural aspects of the spell that I either glossed over in the past or was just learning now. They obviously didn¡¯t tire or feel any pain. More so, they would forever remain calm and rational in any given situation. And while they were physically as strong as the original, their somewhat bouncy flesh made their strikes feel more like a fist-shaped dodgeball pummeling me in the face. Not to mention they looked like unlocked characters in a video game. The first point, however, was the most important. That fact made the doppelgangers a bit like the undead. At least in the sense that I couldn¡¯t simply match his tenacity in kind. I¡¯d tire within seconds and be no better off than in the last round. Yet I couldn¡¯t remain idle or neutral, as my umbral clone would immediately go on the offensive.


    In the end, that left me with one avenue of approach: Adaptation.


    With my plan of attack settled, I rose to my feet and led my doppelganger a few ways away from our resting area before settling into my guard.


    I began the engagement with a front kick this time. Easily, Numa parried, cocked his arm out to his side, and lunged. Following through with my kick, I ducked as I stepped into range of his lariat and spun immediately, outstretching my arm in the process to slam the back of my fist into Numa''s ear. Numa staggered to the side but recovered immediately, rising as he pivoted to raise his clenched fists overhead. Digging the ball of my foot into the ground, I put as much power as possible into my hips and drove my fist through Numa''s teeth just as his hammer fists crashed into my back.


    The rubbery and vacantly cold feeling of shadow flesh against my hand disappeared in an instant and was replaced with the stabbing, searing, shocking symptoms of spinal injuries juxtaposed against the plush feeling of snow beneath my body. But I pushed past the pain and scrambled, launching from the ground to shoulder-check Numa''s hips and pull at the backs of his knees with all I had. In tackling him to the ground, I achieved the mount with only a little struggle. Ensuing the slugfest.


    I repeatedly punched down with all my weight onto Numa''s chin, cheeks, brow, and throat as he fought and thrashed beneath me in much the same ways I did in our first round; only my already weak punches were lacking in power due to my growing fatigue. Realizing I couldn''t continue much longer, I wrestled to pin Numa''s neck onto a protruding tree root before cocking my free arm back. And with a feral scream, I slammed the heel of my palm into his temple.


    With not quite the sound of breakage, Numa''s neck shattered against the root. Almost immediately after going limp, the mana in his body began to dissipate and resettle into its two-dimensional form atop the snow. Only then, did I allow myself to collapse in exhaustion and just lie there for a minute before returning to the rest area.


    The others were still engaged with their clones in their own areas of our little clearing. Unsurprisingly, Toril was holding his own against his clone and was only struggling with overcoming the mimicry aspect of the spell. Conversely, Jonet was; for the most part, able to defend against her umbral self but was still getting beaten severely.


    Jaimess on the other hand, was basically being bullied.


    I made sure to capture the sight well in my Eternal Eye, as this was still just the beginning of our training regimen. To use the time-favored analogy, we¡¯d been taking our first steps and were just beginning to properly walk. And once we were able to walk, I planned to have us run- nay, sprint without pause until the awakening ceremony. So with that in mind, I summoned my Doppelganger once more and reengaged.


    The next few rounds with my clone were variations of the first two. In some, I lost. Others, I won. In all of them, every punch, kick, block, counter, grab, and throw shared between us had been met in turn by the other. By the end of the hour, we all had bruises and scuff marks covering ourselves from head to foot; with the exception of our enchanted clothes, of course.


    I allowed an extra fifteen minutes before we went back at it with weapons and took those fifteen minutes to thoroughly think about my fighting style with my chosen weapons. I experienced a few engagements involving knives, short blades, and hand axes in the past and had even received professional training in knife fighting. Not to mention years of military training. Though the same couldn¡¯t be said for the spear, I was at least able to get a proper sense of form through all the documentaries, demonstrations, and observations I¡¯ve witnessed over the course of my extensive history by virtue of my Eternal Eye; but with no proper training, I was fully aware of the potential losses.


    I¡¯d essentially be freestyling, I concluded. And then decided that I¡¯d accept the risks for now and ask my father for a tutor as a contingency. Until then, I¡¯d follow my intuition and swap with my daggers whenever appropriate.


    Once the fifteen minutes were up, I spawned our doppelgangers and they formed in much the same way they always had. Only, after we took up arms, their limbs amassed in darkness and began growing- morphing into the same shape as our weapons. And then they engaged.


    Luckily, my doppelganger wasn¡¯t as formidable this time around due to my own lacking experience with the spear; resulting in noticeably longer rounds. Though I was fully aware that would change with time. As such, I took my time whenever possible and focused on fighting with the proper form and technique rather than blindly trying to kill Numa. A process that I quickly became enthralled in and thus became surprised when our sparring session came to end. Therein brought about the next item on the itinerary, however. And it was something I was particularly excited about.


    ¡°For this hour. I¡¯ll be teaching you my theories on Advanced Elemental Manipulation and Elemental Fusion.¡±


    ¡°Elemental¡­ fusion?¡± Jaimess repeated slowly.


    ¡°It¡¯s exactly as it sounds.¡± I proudly grinned. ¡°Once I teach you the theory and you learn the basics. We¡¯ll begin training our magic. I have some ideas on how to take each of your magical attributes to new heights.¡±

 19 - Elemental Fusion

    As if I was preparing to breach the brown tunnel, I held my first two fingers out before me while intently meeting the focused eyes of my vassals. ¡°Now then, watch closely.¡±


    Using my established technique, I produced a large, billowing flame from the tip of my middle finger as if it were a giant lighter. Once stabilized, I began bending a stream of air from the tip of my index finger, causing the flame to first flutter and then condense into a thin blue stream before suddenly burning out.


    ¡°Too much fuel.¡± I cursed, mostly under my breath as I lowered my hand and turned to Toril. ¡°You try. Adjust the ratio of air and fire until the reaction happens.¡±


    ¡°What reaction, Lord?¡± Toril asked.


    ¡°You''ll know when you see it.¡± I grinned. ¡°If your flame goes out like mine, lower the intensity of your flame. If it comes out billowing and smoky, on the other hand, there is too much air. Go on. Try.¡± I gestured, stepping back a meter or two.


    Toril took a wide stance at once, clasping before his chest to then extend the first two fingers of each hand forward. From his fingertips came a lighter-like flame nearly identical to mine, only a bit smaller. Once confident with the levels of his flame, he then concentrated to begin displacing air, resulting in a focused blast of concentrated air sputtering the flames for a few moments until eventually, a near-cylindrical pillar of red fire roared to life.


    ¡°More air,¡± I advised. ¡°Slowly.¡±


    He turned his seemingly worried and awed eyes to me before nodding and returning his concentration to the task at hand, increasing the throughput of his air bit by bit. In turn, the raging pillar of flame began to slowly shift from an amber blaze to a shortened cone of light blue fire.


    ¡°More.¡± I prodded with my hands. ¡°More. Slowly.¡±


    He continued adding air bit by bit until a shroud of blue fire enveloped the concentrated cone, shifting it up the spectrum to a blinding white radiance that roared and screamed into the night like a dragon''s roar. Not that I had ever heard such a thing.


    ¡°That''s it!¡± I cackled maniacally as I pointed and turned to look at the dropped jaws of Jaimess and the bulging eyes of Jonet. Toril on the other hand, let the flame die out before turning his wide eyes to his hands as if he couldn¡¯t believe what he just did.


    I let him have his moment and come back to reality on his own terms while I continued with my lecture. ¡°That is what¡¯s known as a neutral flame,¡± I explained with a grin I just couldn¡¯t contain. ¡°A simple torch made from fuel and oxygen that can burn hot enough to weld steel.¡±


    ¡°How do you know these things, My Lord?¡± Jaimess managed to gasp. ¡°The books you¡¯ve written. Your theories. They¡¯re unlike anything I¡¯ve ever read or seen. It¡¯s¡­¡± He chuckled despairingly. ¡°I-¡±


    ¡°Listen.¡± I turned to Jaimess with a sudden cold seriousness, causing him and the other two to snap their spines rigid where they sat. ¡°As your leader, I give you my word that I will share with you, all of my wealth, knowledge, power, and privileges. In exchange, I ask only for your undying loyalty- that you serve me to the best of your abilities, and that you ask no questions about the source of my knowledge or the rationale behind my decisions. Just know that everything that I do is for a reason.¡±


    ¡°Of course, My Lord.¡± Jaimess immediately bowed. ¡°My deepest apologies-¡±


    ¡°And be unapologetic.¡± I coldly added, looking at him and the others. ¡°Never say you are sorry, for you are anything but sorry. And do not be sorry to anyone. Acknowledge your mistakes, right your wrongs, grow as an individual, and if you truly wish to apologize to someone then do it through your actions.¡±


    ¡°I- I understand.¡± Jaimess nodded.


    ¡°That goes for you two as well.¡± I snapped my eyes back to the other two. Causing them both to quickly bow and acknowledge in response.


    ¡°Good.¡± I nodded, then pulled a sphere of water from the surrounding air and snow. ¡°Now, back to our lessons. Toril, focus your neutral flame on this water.¡±


    Toril opened his mouth as if he had a question but quickly shut it and did what was asked. After only a few moments, the water began to roil and soon after, boil in midair.


    ¡°Remember what I said about all things being made of particles or molecules far too small for us to see?¡± I asked, causing a quick affirmation to come from the scholarly Jaimess. ¡°Those particles are under constant motion. Vibrating perpetually.¡± I gestured to the still-boiling water with my chin. ¡°The intensity of these vibrations is what we perceive as temperature and the different phases of matter.¡±


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    ¡°Phases of matter.¡± I heard Toril mutter to himself as if to recount his memory.


    ¡°Take water for example.¡± I continued with a wave to our wintery backdrop. ¡°When water molecules move about with less and less energy on the small scale. We, on the large scale, perceive the water to grow colder and eventually freeze. Conversely, if the molecules have an abundance of energy, the water grows hot and flashes to steam. Regardless of what form, or phase, it remains water, even as ice and steam. My theory,¡± I gestured toward the sphere of boiling water, ¡°is that we can turn water into steam or ice with elemental manipulation alone.¡±


    Jonet seemed to give me an almost offended look as I formed a smaller ball of water in between my hands and began focusing. Straining myself to imagine the endless sea of water molecules banging against each other furiously. Once properly visualized, I began to will the mana within the water to become agitated. To conduct and convect and radiate energy into the fluid, causing the molecules to scatter and lash out at everything like a hornet''s nest thrown inside a car.


    After a few moments, the boiling bubble of water suddenly exploded in my hands. Caught off-guard, I failed to activate my Wraith Form in time and thus was scalded a bit up the arm and face. My vassals, however, were much luckier. With the island in perpetual winter, the steam condensed into fog ages before reaching them.


    ¡°Surely you all know of steam, right?¡± I asked through the dissipating cloud. ¡°As I¡¯ve said before, the vapor produced by boiling water is still fundamentally water; as is the case with mist, fog, clouds, and so on. So it stands to say we can manipulate these things still. Give it a try, Jonet.¡±


    With a quick nod, she began waving her arms around in fluid circles, drawing the dispersed cloud to condense into a snaking stream around her form. With the cloud cleared, she then began to try and change the phase back to vapor, yet strained and eventually lost her grip.


    ¡°Amazing!¡± I gasped as the water splashed to the ground. Then continued. ¡°In addition to using water in different phases, both water and steam can be used under different pressures. When we generally manipulate water, it¡¯s done at low pressures. But water is capable of extraordinary things when put under high pressure. Like cutting through steel or stone like a hot knife through snow. So too is this true with air. Jaimess, give it a try. Use air to fell that tree.¡±


    ¡°Of course, My Lord!¡± Jaimess nearly leaped from where he was sitting, taking his stance to hold out his index finger. As I taught him, he formed the ambient mana into a shape akin to a rocket nozzle. Then formed a knife-thin, low-pressure region between the exhaust and the tree. The ensuing thrust resulted in the air shooting forth the pierce through the tree in its entirety, much like a rifle bullet.


    "Impressive!" I rocked back on my heels. "However, make it wider, and have it impact horizontally."


    He nodded resolutely, repeating the process as normal until it came time to launch the attack. Rather than simply thrust his palm, however, Jaimess stepped into a horizontal slice of his knife hand to release a torrent of compressed air into the tree. The impact was hard enough to knock snow loose from the canopy and left a deep gash in the bark. But I had yet to be satisfied. I knew the limit of Jaimess'' ability. And that was not it.


    ¡°Thinner,¡± I demanded. ¡°Thinner than that of a blade or a leaf. As thin as a single particle of air. Add as much pressure as you can. And fell that tree.¡±


    He seemed hesitant but nevertheless strengthened the throughput of his attack by condensing more and more air around his knife-shaped hand whilst simultaneously altering the shape of the wind''s path into something akin to a whale tail. This time, his attack saw a torrent of snow and flora whipping in the wake of a nearly visible wind scythe before exploding in a burst of snow and permafrost. When the fog finally cleared, the first thing seen by all eyes were what appeared to be thousands of black tree rings exposed to the elements for the first time in their history.


    Without hesitation, I extended my forefingers towards the neighboring tree in the same fashion I had earlier. Resulting in a thin jetstream of water grinding against the bark to carve a deep groove across the surface. ¡°Lastly, comes Earth.¡± I then said, relaxing my grip on water in favor of earth. With a simple squeeze and a bit of strain, a basketball-sized chunk of permafrost burst from the ground and remained suspended at face height. Eager to be blasted with a torch. ¡°Melting rock requires a ridiculous amount of heat energy. So much so that it¡¯s not even worth trying with elemental manipulation. Not in combat, at least.¡± I killed the fire after a few moments and let the stone fall and crack open to reveal the dry and toasty stone with a core of muddy goo.


    "Conversely, liquefying air requires the transfer of a ridiculous amount of heat energy. Even more so than with rock. As such, I assume it to be extremely difficult, if not impossible to force a phase change in the air. However.¡± I doused the stone in a heavy hose of water, turning the smoldering stone into a clumpy pile of mud I promptly began dragging around. ¡°Some of these elements can still be used in conjunction with each other. Mud. Dust. Water vapor. Oxygenated flames. Elemental Fusion.¡±


    With the passing of my lecture, we went on to practice everything we''d learned thus far until our last hour of training came upon us. Wherein we scattered across our clearing to practice and develop spells until it was time to retire for the night. While they returned to their rooms, I took my nightly detour to the library and wallowed in the satisfaction of seeing my hypothesis proven before my very eyes. As impressive as it was. however, I knew all these manipulation theories to be a far cry from magic. The rest of us may have gained the ability to crudely control the abundant ice and snow around us, but it was nothing when compared to the abilities granted to Jonet by her ice affinity. Unlike us, she could form her ice into shapes and creations otherwise impossible to make.


    Not that I was complaining. For we all had not just unique affinities. We had the potential to obtain more. And mine would be revolutionary.

 20 - Hunting Party

    Two and a half weeks after our adjusted training regimen began, I emerged from the shadows of the service wing at sundown much like any other day to find. Finding Toril, Jaimess, and Jonet seated at the bar before an overtly cheerful Gerolt.


    ¡°Your Grace.¡± He bowed to me after noticing my presence, yet continued on before I could even speak. ¡°I¡¯m scheduled to leave on a hunting trip in a few hours. Would you like to accompany me?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d love to.¡± I genuinely smiled, settling into my seat. ¡°What are we hunting and when are we leaving?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be departing in the third hour of the morning. I aim to gather a month''s worth of provisions.¡± He tapped at a sheet of paper on the table before him. ¡°The first item on my list is rabbits. Though we¡¯ll be hunting big game and doing a bit of fishing as well.¡±


    ¡°So be it. We¡¯ll be waiting at the main entrance.¡± I nodded, then turned to my vassals and their somewhat inquisitive stares. ¡°No training tonight. Take the time to study, rest, and pack your gear for¡­¡± I turned to Gerolt with a raised brow. Only for him to stare back for a solid two seconds before catching on.


    ¡°3 days. Pack for three days.¡±


    While each of them tried to hide it in their own way, they were betrayed by visibly relaxed postures and not-so-subtle sighs of relief falling into my half-drow ears. ¡®Don¡¯t get complacent. Our days off will most certainly be made up when we return.¡¯ I chuckled to myself.


    Post an otherwise ordinary meal, I returned to my room to stuff a few extra pairs of clothes into my shadow pocket out of force of habit alone. I wore the same clothes always. Thus the fine tunics and robes in my wardrobe were for show, I assumed. Regardless, I spent the next several hours practicing mana manipulation by moving the chairs and tables around. Then migrated to the library to lounge about and read the few books I had yet to touch. Mainly about the many pantheons or religions and the hundreds of gods and goddesses of the Mortal Plane. Most of whom; I learned, inhabited the few ''stars'' seen in the otherwise empty night sky. The others; I presumed, were either dead, sealed away, or walking among us in this vast world as demigods or something.


    By the time it came to rendezvous with Gerolt, I had officially read through everything in the library and now found myself racking my brain as I waddled towards the exterior grounds; for I now had an abundance of free time and I needed an efficient way to use it. With only the need to meditate for four hours a night, I¡¯d usually awake around five in the evening or so and practice mana manipulation until sunset. After, I¡¯d take breakfast and head off to train with my vassals. And while they slept, I would study and write until around one in the afternoon. A boring and monotonous schedule for sure, but one that would pay off dividends in the future.


    With reading marked off that list, however, I was now struggling to replace it with something worthwhile. Something outside the realm of more training. I could¡¯ve learned to play a new musical instrument or learn the arts of politics from my father, I assumed. But I wanted to travel, explore, and invent. Though, regrettably, I was too young for such things in my parent''s eyes. Thus I struggled and struggled to find my answer. Only for it to find me.


    Or rather, him. The perfect attorney to plead my case for independence. The gruff, silver-haired chef himself, Gerolt Flay. His boyish exuberance would act in my favor without the need for my intervention. I only had to prove our case over the course of our hunting trip.


    As promised, he was waiting in the exterior yards with nothing but a black bag tied to his belt paired with a bow and quiver slung over his shoulder.


    ¡®Do we have no horses- or... dog sleds?¡¯ I wondered as he greeted the lot of us and began stepping down the path. Looking back, I¡¯d not seen a single horse or anything that could act as a mount around the estate; much less read about within the Empire. I didn¡¯t even know if the concept of carriages existed here, what with enchanted trains and whatnot. Not to mention, it was entirely possible that magic entirely negated the need for such things to develop. ¡®If that¡¯s the case, what other concepts in this world are entirely foreign?¡¯


    I decided to add the question to the list of ever-growing inquiries and turned my attention to the pewter-haired man. ¡°Say, Gerolt. What¡¯s it like in the Empire? What kind of creatures are found out here?¡± Though I had indeed read a bestiary or three, it didn¡¯t hurt to gain a hunter¡¯s perspective on the matter.


    ¡°There are many different animals that dwell among us in our Empire. The more dangerous ones have magical abilities, like Winter Wolves, Stone Mammoths, Ice Saber Tigers, and Frostbite Bears; but those creatures are only found on the mainland. All of the creatures of our Deap Ridge are ordinary creatures. And there are far too many for me to name.¡±


    After I acknowledged his words, Gerolt continued to talk and teach us how to track and think like the animals we were hunting; in this case rabbits. It took him not long to find some droppings and guide us on a few-minutes stalk until he suddenly stopped to draw his bow and creep slowly toward a clear shot, wherein he stopped; knocked an arrow; took aim through the shrubs. Then released.


    Scrying through the shade of a nearby tree, I saw a pure white rabbit tumble violently across the ground, painting the snow and itself with crimson, steaming blood. In turn, Gerolt darted through the bushes, sliding to a knee to put it out of its misery with a swift stab in the neck. Then he solemnly paused to give respect before retrieving both his bounty and his arrow.


    ¡°Each of you will take turns hunting on your own.¡± He then declared, holding out the bow at arm''s length.


    Judging from his gaze, he seemed keen on us using the bow instead of magic and so I followed along with only a sigh. A bit of hamster-wheeling later, I was operating under the presumption that it had something to do with classes or would at least get my body used to drawing and firing bows; if only minutely.


    We continued in such a manner, leading Gerolt behind us as we tracked, stalked, killed, and retrieved a rabbit for each of us. An effort that had lasted until sunrise, wherein Gerolt decided it was a good time for a butchery class paired with breakfast. It was the standard method that I¡¯d seen and done dozens of times, however, thus my mind turned to other things. At least until he pulled some rather large firewood from his curiously small bag and began roasting the meat over an open flame to later be served with bread.


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    A devastatingly bland meal for my tongue that had grown so privileged over the last seven years.


    After our meal, much the same process was repeated as we went on to hunt some big game. A process that I was again more than familiar with and thus put most of my attention towards the surrounding environment; similar as it was to what I¡¯ve seen thus far. Only with color by virtue of the light. Annoying though that may have been, even with the enchantments in my Shadow Veil protecting me from its rays. Nevertheless, we wandered until we spotted a herd of some type of white elk with vertical brown stripes along their bodies. Elk, though they were, they were also large like moose and seemed to eat the bark from the smaller ice trees. A beautiful, majestic beast.


    ¡°How many of them do you want?¡± I whispered to Gerolt before he could speak. He silently held up two fingers before I turned to whisper in Toril¡¯s ear. And together, we crept forth towards the brush.


    As we got settled into place, Toril picked up a small stone and grasped tightly it in his fist. Then gave me a solemn nod before reaching his arm through the bushes. I did the same. And within the snap of a finger, a small Death Bullet flicked away from my finger whilst an air cannon fired off from Toril''s palm with a relatively loud bang; sending his spinning little stone racing through his target''s heart like a shot from a high-powered rifle.


    Although it was a perfect shot, adrenaline saw it buck and run off deeper into the woodline, chased by a cursing Toril. The elk I¡¯d struck with the Death Bullet, however, simply fell lifelessly to the ground as soon as the spell made contact. There was no resistance or sign that made me think it¡¯d truly died. It simply¡­ collapsed in place. It was the first living thing I¡¯d ever touched with the magic; besides trees of course, and seeing its power made me recall my grandfather¡¯s words. It was truly a devastating power. Unconcerned with whom it touches, indiscriminate in effect. Though I was sure that I wasn¡¯t even scratching the surface of its true capabilities.


    Gerolt seemed to have a dissatisfied- if not somber expression as he went to retrieve it. Yet said nothing in the moment or even after he¡¯d gathered his quarry and followed the trail blazed by Toril. Nor did he speak once the quarry had been secured, other than some words to follow him on an arduous southward hike. It was curious, to say the least. I began to think he was part wood elf or something. But such thoughts didn''t go far beyond that. My legs were hurting and the sun was becoming ever more annoying, even whilst being partially hidden behind the canopy.


    By sundown, the sounds of rushing water befell my ears. Mere moments after, the distant trees began clearing to grant us views of a towering railway of stone and iron running parallel to the coast. It was similar to the great Roman aqueducts in both scale and in the number of arches. One of which was our destination. Moderate in size. At least large enough for us to fit in but expanded upon with two tents set up like wings on either side of the archway.


    ¡°We¡¯ll spend the night here and go fishing in the morning." Gerolt yawned from his bedroll. "Feel free to do as you please. Just don¡¯t venture too far. Please.¡±


    While my vassals nodded and began wandering off to do whatever, I stayed back and watched Gerolt build a campfire next to one of the wings of our tent. I thought it strange that he¡¯d spend days wandering- walking alone in the woods every month. Judging from his usually amiable demeanor, I assumed these trips served as a sort of stress relief for him and decided to give him a bit of solitude.


    Entering my Wraith Form, I ascended toward the canopy to study the towering architecture we were living under. The entirety of the island¡¯s coast; or more aptly, cliff, was comprised of either a sheer wall or a gradient that was far too steep to build anything on. Positioned atop the summit at regular intervals were dry docks filled with wooden, canopied gondolas that gave access to what I was sure were frozen waters far below. Before that was the elevated band of stone and iron under which we camped. Not only an enchantment-powered maglev track. It was a functioning aqueduct as well. One flowing with steaming water.


    Satisfied, I returned to camp to see Gerolt cooking a blatantly unseasoned stew of rabbit meat and forage. The sight made me frown. The thought made me relocate away from camp to upend the ground and begin sifting through the dirt until I found a pocket of clay. After gathering enough of the stuff, I went around collecting sticks and twigs to begin crafting a pair of kilns. Then repeated more or less the same process to make several pots alongside a few large buckets before stuffing them into the kiln.


    ¡°I had no idea His Grace knew pottery.¡± I heard Gerolt comment under his breath as I lit up the fires of my creation.


    I said nothing. Instead, I approached the second furnace to carve out a large pit beneath the domed chamber and fill it with wood. The top of the furnace, on the other hand, was ventilated with a few large pinholes before it too was ignited. And just in time for my vassals to return too. So, like any good leader, I had them assist me in skewering the meat and hanging them in the upper chamber of my pit before they retired for the night. A night of wandering, contemplation, and meditation later, we awoke to a breakfast of smoked meat. Causing Gerolt to again comment about his lack of knowledge regarding my skills before showing ignorance toward the concept of smoking. The latter of which, I assumed was due to our relative proximity to the White Wall. As food could be preserved just by leaving it outside, there was no need for such food preservation techniques to arise in the region. And so they didn''t.


    Rather than tear down camp after breakfast, we migrated to the gondolas to descend to the surprisingly gentle seas for a day on the water. Admiring the expansive views as we rowed out to different pockets of water to drop anchor and either fish or dive into the waters below. In doing so, I found fishing to be a surprisingly simple endeavor; as we simply had to pull streams or bubbles of water containing fish through a hole in the deck and deposit them on board. All the while admiring the expansive views afforded to us. Endless views of choppy blue water and the massive wall of black stone behind us. Verdant views of the green line of land to the southeast, representing Epethia. Majestic views of the aurora-like green glow tinting the upper eastern skies.


    However, those views were rivaled by the vibrant world hidden beneath the surface, made all the more accessible by water manipulation. Through it, I could not only reduce the drag on my body but sort of squeeze the water around me to propel myself forward as well. Greatly expanding the distance I could travel in a single breath. Not to mention, the entire region was shrouded in darkness at the proper depth. At higher depths, however, the coastal waters contained an expansive shelf of vibrant reefs populated by an uncountable populous of crustaceans, fish, and marine mammals; the latter of whom seemed utterly unconcerned with our presence.


    Such an amazing day ended with our return to the gondolas with a huge bounty of fish along with several buckets of seawater. A seemingly humorous ending according to Gerolt, as he looked out at the waters beyond with a strange look in his eye. Though that may have been from the smoked rabbit he was chomping on.


    ¡°We¡¯ve managed to gather everything on my list in just two days.¡± He chuckled again before turning to us with a gracious smile. ¡°You all are truly exceptional!¡±


    ¡°I assume this means we¡¯ll be heading back to the estate?¡± I asked after my vassals addressed the compliment.


    ¡°After we rest and harvest salt, yes.¡± Gerolt nodded, gesturing to the buckets. ¡°We¡¯ll follow a particular foraging route on our way back, and then our hunting trip will be complete.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded. ¡°In that case, there are a few more food preservation techniques I know of that I can write down for you. As thanks for having us accompany you.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Gerolt humbly chuckled. ¡°The pleasure was mine, Your Grace. But¡­ if you wouldn¡¯t mind giving me an idea of what these techniques are?¡±


    For whatever reason, I turned to meet the inquisitive eyes of my vassals before chuckling to myself. ¡°Very well. But it''s going to use up at least half of an elk.¡±

 21 - The Results of Training

    ¡°Everyone, everyone! You have to see this!¡± Gerolt burst into the service wing of the estate like a madman, yelling at and corralling everyone he set his eyes upon.


    ¡°Cease your shouting at once, Gerolt!¡± Ebbet rounded the corner with a raised arm and abruptly halted after seeing my vassals and I trail in behind the seasoned chef.


    ¡°It¡¯s all for good cause, Ebb.¡± Gerolt prodded with raised palms, then gestured to me just as my parents entered the room. ¡°His Grace has some knowledge he wishes to share with us.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true.¡± I nodded as her gaze turned to me. Then moved over to the kitchen proper to pull a few pieces of filleted fish from my Shadow Pocket. Whilst narrating my actions, I layered a clay pot with butter and filled it with pieces of seasoned fish until it was full, then sealed it shut with a cap of butter. Once done, I handed the pot to Ebbet with instructs to bake it at 162 degrees Celsius for thirty-five minutes before replacing the meat in a clean pot once cooled. Then, finally, she was to fill the pot with clarified butter to seal it shut.


    With her notes taken, I moved on to make a relatively small batch of pemmican by drying out some berries and a bit of the elk meat with air manipulation before pulverizing them both and mixing the mush with an equal ratio of tallow. ¡°This is food meant for survival.¡± I held up one of the gray-brown bricks of solidified mush. ¡°While it doesn¡¯t taste that good as is, a small amount of it will easily sustain you should you find yourself lost in the wilderness for days or weeks at a time. It can be wrapped in wax paper and kept on the shelf for at least five years. Possibly even a decade, with all the cold around here.


    ¡°This potted fish, however,¡± I held up the finished product of Ebbet¡¯s work with my free hand, ¡°will only last for a few months on the shelf. But the recipe can be replicated with virtually any other type of meat or vegetable.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s incredible!¡± My father muttered under his breath.


    ¡°That¡¯s not all!¡± I reached back into my Shadow Pocket to withdraw two large sheets of paper and an ink bottle. Then used water manipulation to carefully draw a thin stream of ink onto the paper. ¡°I think a better version of potting can be achieved through these glass bottles. If you can find someone to make them.¡± I handed my father the sheet to look over while I drew up a blueprint for a smokehouse on the second sheet.


    ¡°This smokehouse.¡± I continued, handing him the second sheet along with a piece of smoked rabbit. ¡°Is a prototype than can be built alongside the service wing. It¡¯ll allow Gerolt to not only cook a larger amount of meat but to make that meat far more tender and tasteful than it¡¯d be otherwise.¡±


    If there was any food I missed the most from my past life, it was barbecue. Luckily, my father instantly agreed to have someone make it after looking over the designs and stuffing them in his shadow. Giving me the perfect avenue to plead my case.


    ¡°Forgive my presumptuousness.¡± I bowed after respectfully pulling my parents aside. ¡°But, I believe my vassals and I are more than capable of taking care of ourselves; and in more ways than just physical safety. I understand your wishes for me to wait until my next birthday.¡± I nodded to my father. ¡°But I¡¯ve been held within the estate since the day I was born. I¡¯ve finished my education. I¡¯ve read through everything in the library. Thus I now find myself with nothing to do with the immense time at my disposal but train.¡±


    ¡°Then what is your proposal?¡± My mother curtly asked.


    ¡°To establish a training camp on Deap Ridge.¡± I calmly declared. ¡°We¡¯ll remain within the far reaches of the Estate¡¯s territory and learn to live an unprivileged life. To build our own shelters, find our own food, and protect ourselves; skills we¡¯ll surely need when we join the academy and later graduate.¡±


    ¡°He brings up a fair point, Eved.¡± My father muttered to my mother.


    ¡°I¡¯d also like a weapon made for me.¡± I hastily muttered. If I was truly of royal blood, I was sure that giving children weapons wasn¡¯t something that was looked down upon. Though I still backtracked in my words a bit. ¡°Not at this particular point in time,¡± I added. ¡°But before I leave for the academy.¡±


    At that, my father broke out in soft laughter and stepped forth to place his hand on my shoulder. ¡°Oh, Amun. There are many artificers and smiths who are frothing at the mouth at the thought of you using one of their weapons.¡± He smiled after his laughter had died down. ¡°As for the first matter.¡± He sighed, turning back to Mother.


    <<Fair points indeed, my Son.>> She broke out in her mother tongue, her violet eyes unnervingly pinned to me. <<All elves desire freedom. I have given you everything but. I will grant your wishes. Given one condition.


    ¡°Prove that your words are no mere boast.¡± She loudly declared in the common language. Causing Gerolt, Ebbet, and each of my vassals to turn their heads toward us. ¡°Show us the results of your training."


    ¡°Of course, Mother.¡± I bowed, then gestured towards the door. ¡°However, it would be best if we do so outside. Far from the estate.¡±


    ***


    Emeric Cole


    ***


    ¡°Tell me, Jonet.¡± Eved¡¯s songful voice echoed throughout the dead zone the moment we stepped into the snow. ¡°Tell me of some of the things my child has taught you.¡± A cruelly efficient tactic, I had to admit, seeing as how she couldn¡¯t refuse to answer and that they were too afraid of her to lie.


    ¡°Yes, Your Grace.¡± The girl turned and bowed as she walked. ¡°His Grace has taught each of us how to properly use elemental manipulation and even how to wield the elements together. Processes His Grace refers to as Elemental Theory and Elemental Fusion respectively.¡±


    ¡°I would like to see demonstrations of these processes, if possible,¡± I added with a wave of the hand. I had long since pondered about what Amun and his vassals were up to while they spent their nights in solitude. Surely, I had the ability to scry whenever I liked; but I took pride in the fact that I gave my son the privacy he so deserved. Though, that doesn¡¯t mean I wasn¡¯t curious. On the contrary, I was just as excited as Amun; who was practically skipping out of the courtyards in front of us.


    Honestly, I hadn¡¯t seen so much energy in the boy in all his life. Meanwhile, Eved seemed as complacent as always. So much that it would¡¯ve been enough to make me assume the worst if it weren¡¯t for those prideful smiles she¡¯d give every time our young boy spoke his mind or did something noteworthy. Still, though, such smiles seemed to have been born from expectations being met, rather than the pride of Amun¡¯s innate greatness.


    Or, perhaps I was simply paranoid.


    My thoughts were pulled to the present as we arrived at a clearing in the exterior yards of the estate. There, Amun pulled a few shadow balls out and distributed them to their vassals to¡­ play. For around ten minutes, they simply threw the balls against the trees or at the Doppelgangers at furious paces and cursed themselves on the rare occasions that they failed to catch them. After, they held a piece of braided rope in either hand and twirled it about their bodies as fast as they could with the intention of hopping in place over it without tripping. Gerolt seemed just as flabbergasted and amused as I. Eved, on the other hand, was staring at each of them with an intent focus. Causing me to return my eyes to them and realize the fluidity and grace of their movements were indeed something to praise them for. Even Jaimess; who Grandfather Andus claimed was a bit clumsy, was nearly matching Amun¡¯s speed and agility.


    Without a word, they all simultaneously stopped and gathered around Amun to toss their shade balls back into his shadow. And I hastily stepped forward. ¡°And what was the name of that exercise?¡± I eagerly asked, half knowing the answer. Much to my surprise, however, I seemed to have surprised the lot of them. As they all turned one by one as if they¡¯d forgotten I was even here.


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    ¡°Simple exercises to improve coordination, agility, and dexterity,¡± Eve explained at once, causing a curious glance from Amun before he nodded along in affirmation.


    ¡°It is as Mother explained. A simple game of catch, jump rope, and dexterity exercises.¡± He nodded again, then motioned for his vassals to spread out in a line before him. ¡°After this, we usually move on to¡­¡± He hesitated to chance a glance at his mother. ¡°Combat training,¡± he eventually sighed.


    Even my brows perked up at the mention of combat and I began to step forward before Amun¡¯s shadow darkened and coalesced before him into his Doppelganger. Soon after, his vassal¡¯s shadows did the same and stood before them with their guards high like they were anticipating a fight.


    Surprisingly, Jaimess was the first to lunge toward his clone after it settled before him. He slid forth with one leg extended and hooked his foot around his clone''s ankle before stomping his other foot right onto the kneecap of the same leg, crippling it with a silent snap. While the umbral body keeled forward, Jaimess fluidly followed through with his momentum, pushing off the ground to tackle his clone and wrestle himself on top of it before beating into submission in ways that would have made Grandfather Andus grin with pride.


    ¡°Oh- oh my.¡± I gasped aloud. Prying my eyes away from him for the first time, I saw that the others; including Amun, had finished off their clones and were either standing back on their feet like Jaimess or standing around idly.


    ¡°Quick. Efficient. Violent.¡± Gerolt chuckled wryly. ¡°I see very few rouges having their way with you, Your Grace.¡±


    ¡°That''s the intention.¡± Amun charmingly smiled both to him and me, erupting a somewhat nervous chuckle from my lips. ¡°Normally.¡± He continued. ¡°We train like this for an hour before arming ourselves with wooden weapons and continuing for another hour. Then, we¡¯ll practice what you all came to see.¡±


    With a nod, Jaimess; on the far end, went first and punched his fist at an invisible target before him, erecting a thick cone of earth from the ground at a sharp angle. Without pause, he extended both his pinky and index finger before swinging his fist in a backhanded motion. In response, two shrieking blades of nearly visible wind whipped from his fingertips to dice the earthen pillar into two massive boulders and a canted stump. With his swinging arm now trailing behind him, Jaimess extended his other hand until he struck a celebratory pose with his arms outstretched overhead, his fingers flexing while the echoes of shattering earth rang from above. They cracked within moments, those boulders, exploding into a cloud of dust, dirt, and floating stone. Yet, Jaimess wasn''t done. He withdrew and subsequently thrust out his palms in dissimilar ways, ejecting a powerful jet of air from his right hand while the left spun and twirled about the wrist to produce a vortex of water below its accompanying boulder.


    I and all others watched in awe as the boulder on the right shrank and disintegrated into a cloud of fine dust while the remaining boulder fell helplessly into the awaiting vortex below. One faded into obscurity. The other plummeted into the churning fluid, thickening it and mixing it into a crude brown color after only a few seconds.


    After ceasing his flow of air, Jaimess seemed to grip an invisible ''something'' in his right hand and slammed it down while his left arm simultaneously formed a knife hand that swiped in a rising vertical. Seeming intent on following his every command, the mass of dust and pebbles that had dispersed into the sky suddenly aggregated into the form of a wedge-shaped sandstorm that began hurtling toward the ascending snake of mud.


    Much to my astonished relief, they missed. Yet the end was nowhere near.


    Angered, the snake of manipulated mud curved around the skies to race behind the cloud of dust just as the latter collapsed into the trees in the not-so-far distance. Leaves. Bark. Snow. All were ripped to shreds under the sheer ferocity of the dusty tempest. Only to be outright destroyed once the snaking wave of mud slammed home with enough force to uproot trees.


    I couldn¡¯t even begin to commend him before Jonet stepped forward with the heels of her palms clasped together and her fingers spread outward. Pulling her arms inward, she gathered the water from the ambient air and snow and mud. Only a small sphere, at first. But once her hands began to dance around that marble, it soon grew to the size of a crystal ball. Utterly massive in size for manipulated water, yet Jonet¡¯s brows, gaze, and posture were all totally relaxed. It was as if she were entirely unburdened from performing such a graceful dance with her hands, swirling and spinning them as if she were polishing her crystal ball. Not to make it smooth. To make it rougher. To make it bubble and bulge with an ever-greater intensity until it started simmering and roiling and steaming and boiling until-


    Boom!


    Within the blink of an eye, the chaotic landscape had shifted into an unchanging fog that occluded any and everything beyond arms reach; leaving me capable of doing nothing more than standing in awe of the sudden shift in weather, staring at the steam turn to mist and change on to snow, swirling and churning all around me. Mixing and writhing as if it were alive. Condensing and clearing to reveal Gerolt and Eved; then Amun and each of his vassals. Yet the fog coalesced still. More and more until Jonet could once again be seen swirling her hands around a rapidly forming ball of water that, this time, floated above her head. Once at its former size, the mixing of her hands ceased and instead began flexing tightly. In turn, the water became calmer. It slowed. Grew sluggish. Eventually, it seemed to halt entirely. Then grew opaque. Then thickened into a spherical iceberg.


    While I stared up at it in awe, a raging amber light began to illuminate the berg from the side. Curious, I saw nothing short of a pillar of fire screaming over the ice and thus followed the source down to the ground, wherein I squinted to see Toril raising his hand high like a student posing a question. The great flame doused us all with simmering heat as it rose in a conical shape to beyond the height of Jonet¡¯s iceberg and bathed the night in both an intense amber light and an Epethian noon-like heat. Yet I became further enthralled as he pressed on, cocking his remaining arm beneath his shoulder to somehow grasp hold of air from as high as the canopy and trap it within a pebble-sized sphere. Rather than simply release it, however, Toril ejected the air straight into his flame. The fires screeched in protest almost immediately, puttering and sputtering until it outright screamed and spat a torrent of concentrated blue fire to melt the ice in seconds.


    With its disappearance, Toril killed the horrid fires and took a deep breath as he slowly lowered his hands. Then as one, Amun and his three vassals turned to us with a closing bow to their wondrous performance.


    ¡°That is Elemental Fusion.¡± Amun beamed, rising from his bow.


    ¡°I- I knew you were gifted, but yet again, you¡¯ve exceeded my expectations. That was incredible!¡± I managed to gasp after a few long moments, then took a long pause to get myself under control. ¡°I see you all have taken your training seriously. But, Amun,¡± I said in a more stern tone. ¡°You must remember that you are a royal. A Grand Duke. It is important to be strong, yes. But so too is it important that you remember to act according to your position at all times and not boast about or show off your strength to anyone. Remain placid and in the shadows, as is the nature of our family.¡±


    ¡°I understand, Father.¡± He immediately bowed. ¡°Thank you for your wisdom and praise.¡±


    ¡°That was some fine work, Your Grace!¡± Gerolt chuckled in aw just after. ¡°With all that training, I¡¯d say you¡¯re aiming to join the academy!¡±


    ¡®Well obviously.¡¯ I chuckled internally. ¡®With all that power, it''d be a waste to do anything but.''


    ¡°Of course.¡± Amun nodded, causing my mirth to erupt like a volcano. ¡°I plan on enrolling into the academy as soon as I¡¯m able to. With Toril and Jaimess at my side.¡± He gestured to the two in question, then nodded at the last. ¡°Jonet won¡¯t be attending, as I have her in a more¡­ inconspicuous occupation. I¡¯ve come to the conclusion that the potential fame gained from attending the academy will have a negative outcome on her career. She will be rejoining us after I graduate from the academy.¡±


    ¡°That''s¡­ actually a good point.¡± I frowned in surprise. Every leader needed a good spy; whether they be a general or a king. ¡°But Amun, what do you intend to do after graduating?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be forming a guild.¡± He proudly declared. ¡°And after I train them up to standard, I plan to breach the barrier, find the gates, and liberate the Ulaian continent. And then, I''ll spend the rest of my life exploring the Mortal Plane in search of answers to the questions burning so deeply in my mind.¡±


    ¡®It¡¯s been said that children should aim high.¡¯ I despairingly chuckled inside. ¡®But by the gods, he just may be able to do it.¡¯


    ¡°Doing so will cement your name into history, Your Grace.¡± Gerolt proudly smiled. ¡°You have the entirety of my support!¡±


    Amun politely bowed at his words, causing my continually swelling pride to rise to an all time high. At times, he was so capable it was downright terrifying. But I felt confident in the fact that Eved and I had raised him with enough love and care to mold him into someone who wouldn¡¯t abuse that power. On the contrary, judging from how he treated his vassals, Amun had the potential to become not just the greatest Magus in history, but the greatest ruler Maru had ever seen. Possibly even the Mortal Plane.


    ¡°Emeric.¡± Eved¡¯s cold voice came creeping into my ears from the side. Seemingly cutting my pride in half. ¡°We need to talk.¡±


    Worry blossomed in my chest as I turned towards her; for what reason our talk was needed, I could only have guessed, but I simply nodded my affirmation before turning back to our son to once again praise him for his hard work before dismissing myself. Then, I stepped on the long path behind Eved towards the depth of the estate.

 22 - Telins Champion

    Eved.


    ***


    At no surprise to me, Amun of Odissi had always been a curious child. Not only in the fact that his inquiring mind never ceased to turn. It was in the fact that he held a certain quality that could only be described as¡­ otherworldly. A trait given to describe but a single being in all the eons of Youtera¡¯s history.


    I felt it the moment Ebbet first placed him in my arms. The cold, analytical eyes that gazed into my own weren¡¯t filled with the warm relief one would expect from a newborn seeing their mother for the first time. On the contrary, it only reminded me of the cunningly inquisitive eyes of the aged and the wise. As Emeric knew at first sight that Amun was a Sorcerer, I was fully aware that he was the long-awaited Cleric. Telin¡¯s Champion.


    As I swore to do on that day so many years ago, I dutifully watched my son grow around the confines of Cole Estate. And it was marvelous. Neither his genius, physical prowess, nor magical ability surprised me in the slightest. For I knew he was holding back. Emeric, on the other hand, was more than delighted at having such a gifted son. As would have anyone, I supposed. Even more so for someone of royal standing, again I supposed. Such nuances of the human world were always an enigma to me. With that the case, however, Amun¡¯s hold on elemental manipulation was unlike anything I had ever seen. Not even during the climax of the guild wars did humans command the elements as fiercely as he and his vassals.


    It was something that brought me just as much joy as it did worry.


    ¡°Our son is amazing!¡± Emeric gasped after we¡¯d made it to our residence, the simple log cabin we¡¯d first taken root in after our arrangement.


    ¡°Do you remember our agreement, Emeric?¡± I asked with no regard for our son¡¯s praise.


    ¡°Of course.¡± He nodded with sudden confusion. ¡°We were to sire a child and raise him together until he attended the awakening ceremony. Then you¡¯d go back to Youtera.


    ¡°But what happens after?¡± He added after my affirmatory nod.


    ¡°Amun will not see me until he is at least fifty. Then, he will come to Youtera to learn the art of mana forging and of his history as a half-drow.¡± I calmly explained.


    Emeric knew I would never divulge elven secrets to a human, despite how highly he was regarded by us and regardless of the same flustered expression he always had when I spoke in near-tongues about our child. Yet the prodding words still poured forth from his lips all the same.


    ¡°Surely you needn¡¯t wait until he¡¯s fifty!¡± He scoffed. ¡°The longer you wait the more detrimental the effect may be. Surely you must be aware of this.¡±


    ¡°I am not who decides such things.¡± I calmly shook my head.


    ¡°If anyone decides, it should be Amun!¡± He pouted with a raised finger. Admittedly catching me off guard.


    ¡°You¡¯ve seen how intelligent the boy is.¡± Emeric continued, taking advantage of my moment of pause. ¡°It¡¯s only a matter of time before he pieces things together himself. Then, he may harbor ill feelings towards the both of us for omitting the truth; whatever that truth may be.¡±


    As much as I hated to admit it, I could only see just that happening when imagining Amun¡¯s analytical mind coming to any one conclusion regarding his parents. I was more than certain he noticed the patterns, after all. The lack of intimacy shown between us, his parents, and the shortage of bonding time while my constant awareness of his progress remained intact. Not to mention the fact he so quickly ascertained Jonet¡¯s true purpose. I couldn¡¯t help but get the feeling that he placed her in the position of a spy just to prove to me that he knew.


    ¡°Perhaps you are right.¡± I sighed. ¡°I will speak to him before his cores are awakened and inquire of his knowledge on the matter.¡±


    ¡°Then we are agreed on.¡± Emeric sighed, stepping towards me to embrace.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I nodded, allowing his arms to wrap around me. ¡®I will speak to him and judge if his will- his morals are aimed in the right direction.


    ¡®If not¡­¡¯


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    ''Well, that wasn¡¯t ominous.''


    My mother had always been placid or at best amused by anything I did. So naturally, the sudden morbid seriousness that dragged my father away was nothing to wave off. Even Gerolt seemed to be taken aback by it, watching my father hesitantly step behind my mother with the widest eyes I''d seen him wear. At least until they disappeared behind the walls, wherein he awkwardly dismissed himself and trailed off in the opposite direction.


    With my vassals and I once again in solitude, them awkwardly standing around waiting, I cataloged my thoughts and theories for later before clapping to gather their attention. ¡°Excellent work, everyone! With our little demonstration, I assume we¡¯ll soon be allowed to venture further from the estate without supervision. As there is no question that we can protect ourselves. It¡¯s¡¯ because of that.¡± I paused to begin pacing. ¡°Our dexterity and coordination training will be completely optional. Starting today, it will be replaced with strength training and conditioning. Thirty minutes each. After, we¡¯ll continue our routine of combat training with and without weapons, continuing with elemental fusion for another hour before we finish the night off with spellcasting.¡±


    An excited grin spread across Toril''s face at the mention of spells, giving me all the more reason to begin the lesson.


    ¡°I¡¯ll start by asking if any of you have tried a reinforcement spell?¡±


    ¡°I have yet to try it, My Lord.¡± Toril bowed first.


    ¡°Why not?¡± I asked. ¡°I assume it¡¯d be fairly straightforward for elec- lightning.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve split the entirety of my focus into my education, our training, and understanding your reading material, My Lord, per your instructions.¡± He bowed again.


    ¡°True.¡± I nodded. ¡®You all do still have to sleep, after all.¡¯ I then turned to Jaimess, to which he solemnly shook his head in response.


    Jonet on the other hand, took a wide stance before her eyes closed to focus. Over the next few seconds, I studied the chaotic weave of mana in search of some shift or change and only found the ambient air growing colder and colder. Yet the only change came from within. Her frame grew bulkier and blocker as her clothes and skin hardened and froze. Not into the ice-blue humanoid I imagined. She looked... relatively normal, minus her frozen body and glowing irises. She sounded... monstrous, however, as her ice-infused body clanked and cracked with each step toward a tree, cocked back, and hammered out a straight punch to the bark.


    Though she indeed dented the bark, the true destruction came from the splintering shards of ice pushing through the inner grains to reach up and down the tree''s length. ¡°Ice Armor.¡± She called, halting the flow of mana from her well to kill off the vibrancy of her ice-blue eyes.


    ¡®Amazing!¡¯ I gasped to myself before turning back to face them all at once. ¡°Toril. As I¡¯ve said before, I have a few assumptions about how your reinforcement spell should work; and you should try it in a moment. But first.¡± I paused to stare intently at my quartermaster. "Jaimess.¡±


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    ¡°Yes, Lord.¡± He nodded at once.


    ¡°You may assume that your paper magic only has practical uses or that it is weak. I¡¯ll tell you now that such avenues of thinking are entirely wrong. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve experienced a paper cut, for example.¡± I raised a finger like a teacher would when giving a lecture. Then pointed to a random tree. ¡°So, give that tree a paper cut.¡±


    Jaimess seemed reluctant but nevertheless did as told and began withdrawing mana. Again, no change came from the environment. The influx of energy translated to his irises filling with a bright tan glow before a triangular sheet of paper peeled off of his hand to be caught by the wind. Rather than catch it, however, he seemed to take hold of the mana within the paper remotely; wherein he focused to infuse the sheet with almost all the mana in his well before flinging his arm to send the sheet hurtling towards the tree.


    It sheared across the bark on impact, settling the sheet within a thin gash of bark where it remained even after Jaimess settled his mana.


    ¡°Paper has more qualities than you think,¡± I explained, turning back to him. ¡°If you remember that paper is made from trees, you¡¯ll understand the defensive capabilities of your magic. Which is what I assume is what will be reflected in your reinforcement spell.¡±


    ¡°If I may, My Lord?¡± Toril interjected. Turning to him, I saw he''d already settled into a ready stance. A nod of approval yielded an audible spark as his magic released, highlighting his eyes with a type of deep blue energy that left his hair standing on end.


    Though his spell clearly succeeded, he seemed lost as to what to do next. Prompting me to adopt the most sinister grin as I reached into my shadow to withdraw a small mountain of amorphous palm-sized balls. Interacting with it nor connecting with it required any mana on my part; the benefits of sorcery, I presumed. Thus, like a drone connected to a neural implant, all it took to launch the ball was a flick of the finger. And perhaps me yelling. ¡°Dodge!¡±


    The ground beneath him shook before his visage suddenly disappeared. Left in his wake were a few dancing sparks discharging themselves into the air. If it weren¡¯t for him moving through the shadows, I¡¯d have no idea where he was jumping or sprinting to and fro. Since that wasn¡¯t the case, however, I took control of the umbral dodgeballs and sent them hurtling through the shadows until my ammunition ran out.


    ¡°This is incredible!¡± Toril¡¯s disembodied voice exclaimed just before he came hurtling to a standstill before me, his body still cackling loudly with electricity.


    ¡°It is.¡± I nodded. ¡®I can¡¯t wait to try it for myself.¡¯


    Without a word, Jaimess readied himself to emit the same off-white aura from his eyes. Over the next several seconds, hundreds of sheets of paper cascaded off his hands and were subsequently magnetized to the paper-attributed mana concentrated within his body. Layers upon layers slapped against the entirety of his body, seeming to be glued together by mana akin to fiberglass and resin. Post-reinforcement, Jaimess was noticeably wider and covered with a dull or matte sheen; but otherwise appeared no different.


    ¡°As I thought.¡± I chuckled aloud, approaching Jaimess with my spear in hand. A deft twirl of the weapon around my hand was the only signal he received before I thrust it forward. Still, he managed to raise his forearm in time to cause the dull blade to shear off his arm with a loud knock. ¡°Light, rigid. And capable of stopping at least a wooden spear.¡± I grinned, patting him on his still-armored shoulder.


    ¡°That said.¡± I then turned to the other two. ¡°I have the inclination that my great grandfather¡¯s book didn¡¯t contain all the spell types known to humanity. As made obvious by the evident lack of progression from reinforcement spells.¡±


    ¡°Progression into what, My Lord?¡± Jonet asked. Yet Jaimess was the one who answered, seemingly to himself.


    ¡°It would stand to reason that if we can imbue our bodies with our affinities, then we can imbue other objects with them as well. Or even make objects from nothing.¡± Apparently following through with his thoughts, he focused on his wooden dagger in one hand before his eyes lit up once again; conjuring dozens of sheets of paper to coalesce into first a handle, then a pommel, then a curved blade that appeared completely identical to the one made of wood. Including the grains.


    ¡°My thoughts exactly.¡± I grinned, pulling out a rod of darkness from below me that I worked to reform into a spear of solid shade.


    Jonet, in turn, focused as well to produce a long nail or perhaps an ice-blue needle while Toril managed to produce an axe handle, if not a normal, crackling stick of lightning. Which in turn, gave me a brilliant idea for a creation. But alas, that had to come another time; for their magic-made weapons soon dissolved, crumbled, or dissipated.


    ¡°I assume reinforcement brings about your Wraith Form, My Lord?¡± Toril asked. To which I summoned my grimoire to confirm before nodding.


    ¡°It does." I paused as shadow mana poured into my spirit, then gestured to the thick, gaseous darkness pouring off my frame. ¡°It comes in two variants, depending on if I''m in direct light or not. What you see now is my Semi-Wraith Form. Like this, flying and phasing through solids costs mana. My Wraith Form on the other hand.¡± I grinned before flying backward into the dense shade of a nearby tree. Yet before I could explain further, each of my vassals seemed to jump in place and suddenly begin scanning the woodline.


    ¡°Did he leave?¡± I Jaimess muttered."


    "I¡¯m right in front of you still.¡± I snorted, then took flight up and around to come upon their rear and whisper in their ears. "In addition to flight and phasing, darkness renders me invisible. So too does it link my body to everything that touches the shadows, allowing me to step through them without using mana.¡±


    ¡°I thought you could already do that, My Lord.¡± Jonet shook her head, clearly bemused.


    ¡°When I slip through the shadows and seemingly teleport, I¡¯m moving through an alternate dimension; like a mirror world. A realm where you all appear as ghosts to me and I as ghosts to you; in some cases, I¡¯ve heard. At any rate, reinforcing my body with shadow mana turns me into a shadow, for all intents and purposes. Now then.¡± I canceled my spell to change tunes and stepped between them, uncaring of their startled reactions to my sudden reappearance. "I¡¯d like to give you all a few pointers regarding your affinities before we get into training. We¡¯ll start with you, Toril. Strike that tree with a bolt of lightning.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± He nodded, then turned to charge an abundance of lightning mana within his hand. And already, I could see the flaws. It was just building in his hand, causing it to grow a deep blue and throw out arcs and sparks every which way before he thrust his outstretched finger toward the tree.


    As I assumed, a wide arc of electricity spread from his open palm. And though much of it struck his target, more of it simply trailed off indiscriminately, causing the young knight to curse silently under his breath.


    ¡°That was good,¡± I assured him. ¡°This time, however, do as I do. Gather lightning mana in the tip of your finger.¡± After a silent nod, he mimicked my action by extending his glowing blue index finger toward the tree. ¡°Instead of thrusting it at your target, simply imagine an imbalance between your finger and your target. Visualize that your finger is a cup overflowing with liquid and that your target is an empty cup. Then, seek to-¡±


    A blinding light suddenly streaked forth from Toril¡¯s finger, muting my words entirely as it roared towards the tree and impacted in a cacophony of loud splintering groans, thunderous booms, and snapping wood.


    ¡°Balance it.¡± I belatedly finished my explanation. Then met my knight''s grin in kind as he turned to me. ¡°Do that. Every time.¡± I gave him a tap on the chest with my fist. And before he had time to voice his admiration, I turned to Jaimess with instructions to conjure a single sheet of paper. A few careful folds later, I held in my hands the proclaimed best paper airplane one could fold; cocked back and ready to be thrown back to Jaimess. Rather than catch it, though, he simply stared at it with the same dumbfounded expression as the other two.


    ¡°Paper can be folded in a variety of ways,¡± I explained. ¡°Tools. Weapons. Even animals can be mimicked with paper. These shapes will be extensively detailed in a book that I will be giving you within the next few days. Not only that.¡± I added with a raised finger. ¡°But there exists a synergy between paper and the other elements. It is flammable; it can be carried by air; it can become water-logged, negating its flammability at the cost of durability; and paper, at least a sheet, can''t be smashed by the earth. All of this means that the potential avenues for your paper magic are near limitless. It is hindered only by your imagination, Jaimess.¡±


    ¡°I understand, My Lord.¡± He excitedly nodded. ¡°I shall not disappoint you.¡±


    "Worry not about disappointing me, only yourself. And depend not on the praise of others. Fuel your own pride; find motivation within; and no one can break your spirit.¡± I preached. Then turned to my spy.


    ¡°As I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve guessed, Jonet. Ice can also take the form of both water and steam; and snow as well.¡± I gestured around us. ¡°Unlike the rest of us, your ice magic gives your elemental magic an unlimited supply of water; which alone greatly increases your functionality and power.¡±


    ¡°Of course, My Lord.¡± She bowed.


    ¡°Not only that. There are at least nineteen different types of ice,¡± I added. ¡°And even more when you consider amorphous ice. Which type of ice forms depends greatly on the pressure and temperature at which it''s formed, which translates to how densely the water molecules are packed together and in what arrangement they''re organized. I will teach you about these different types of ice. But I cannot help in their creation. That, you¡¯ll have to accomplish alone.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± She nodded, giving me a slight smile.


    ¡°Good.¡± I nodded, turning back to the other two. ¡°Now, due to the nature of our affinities, this portion of our training will be self-taught. We will work on the accuracy and power output of our attack and defense spells and take the time to develop our own personalized spells. The only other goal is to increase our limits for mana fatigue. So cast as much as possible. Once we get permission to camp on our own, we¡¯ll continue our training after your classes and not stop until the time comes to attend the awakening ceremony.


    ¡°Or until something else arises.¡±

 23 - Departure

    True to their word, my parents allowed us to live rough without supervision just days after our demonstration. But not without conditions. Namely that my vassals would spend no less than two days per week at the estate for their lessons and that I would return for at least a day for ¡®visitation¡¯ purposes.


    We set out at once after receiving the news from my father. Regretfully, however, it wasn''t before Ebbet and Gerolt saw fit to dump a proverbial mountain of equipment and tools into my Shadow Pocket for safe storage. Regardless, we traveled for days across the island. Due north. Opposite in direction to Gerolt''s supposed hunting grounds. Though this part and every other I could see was the same gigantic forest of icy trees mixed with comparatively smaller black saplings. It was... ethereal. Majestic. Even frustrating, after a few days of mundane marching. Thus I wasted no time sending everyone to work upon reaching the northern coast.


    I almost felt bad snapping the others away from the views of the mainland. Then again, there would be time for that later. And it wasn''t as if they needed much motivation. On the contrary, they only needed instructions- blueprints for a small, half-buried fort or castle with four bastions.


    Toril both provided light and cleared snow with his flame while Jaimess and Jonet manipulated stresses and faults in the permafrost. Small and insignificant disturbances in the grand scheme of things; yet more than enough to excavate a waist-deep pit and compress the spoil into waist-high walls and pillars alike. Simultaneously, I was tinkering with the void to cut beams into posts and planks for above and below. And supports for around, evidently, as Jonet soon saw fit to pull ice from the permafrost around our abode and mold them into circular windows. Ice manipulated over the roof supports saw the exterior complete. Thus it was on to the inside to smooth walls, board floors, raise walls, and learn the art of making rocket stoves before we lit up the central hearth and claimed our abodes.


    They were modest if not ascetic spaces. Torture chambers for royals and nobles alike. Only a desk, chair, rocket stove, and fur pelt resting atop a stone bed could be found inside. A reality that would surely pry the silver spoons from their mouths. Simultaneously, it was an opportunity to teach and be taught. A chance to be humbled and humble. And so I was, I ignored the gifts given from Ebbet and Gerolt. I declared a rule to our lives out here. A rule that demanded we make anything we wanted or needed with our own hands.


    In that way, those years were a bit like a survival game; which, I supposed, was more true than I cared to admit. Regardless, we improved our compound over the following days. Garderobes were radially attached to our units, giving rise to the discussion of germ theory and the need for lime. Similarly, two large, dual-chambered stone chests were attached to the central room for food storage. An abundance of furniture, trinkets, tools, and toys, made exclusively from wood and stone were crafted. After two days of travel and two days of construction, we spent the next five days doing nothing but hunting, training, studying, and lounging about our home away from home until our first recall to the estate.


    Our return saw us back to business. Back to training our assess off for weeks, months, and eventually years without pause. During which, we made steady improvements to both ourselves and our residence. Through our exploratory trips through the forest behind us and the expansive seas before us, we found many ruins and wreck sites that we greedily plundered for scrap metal, booty, bodies, and sometimes bottles that were mostly used to complete our kitchen entirely. Soon after, the clearing just south of our compound had been transformed into a proper outdoor gym. And quite the expansive one to boot, occupied by each of us in different ways. Toril practically lived with the stone-weight benches, squat racks, barbells, and dumbbells; Jaimess ran marathons around the canopied track; I ran the obstacle course from night until day; and to no one''s surprise, Jonet skipped between all three on a daily basis.


    Within a year, my vassals showed tremendous signs of growth and, more importantly, passion in all they did. But more so in their magic. Made evident by the rolling booms of thunder amidst the perpetual blizzard. In which many strange creatures of paper were swept helplessly. Within two years, I began tinkering with metallurgy to recycle all the metals I recovered from the sea floor. A wood stove was made alongside a rudimentary forge, giving us tools and blades of steel. Similarly, the others began delving into other crafts or fields of study. Meteorology, herbology, and ecology; to name a few. In the third year, they completed their formal education. Thus they found themselves with as much free time as me.


    Our training only increased after that. For the entirety of the day and night, we¡¯d fight, drill, and practice our developing spells until we nearly collapsed from fatigue. Breaking only to eat, shit, and sleep- or meditate- for eleven months. When things once again began to change.


    It was shortly after my tenth birthday. the 11th of the 11th, 1485. We returned for our weekly visit like every other week before. Yet, it came with a looming sensation. A sense of foreboding melded with a familiar feeling. A feeling that loomed from our destination. A resonance that could have come from one individual.


    ¡°There he is.¡± Grandpa Lich turned his mountainous form as I entered the formal wing. "At ease, you three." He waved off those behind me who had all dropped to a knee, then danced his abyssal pupils over my suddenly tiny frame. I intently watched them stop at the locks resting gently atop my shoulders. Then to the shoulders themselves and back up to my eyes, where he somehow grinned wider through his beard while grunting. ¡°You look good, Amun. Strong and capable. And your vassals too.¡± He added, peering over my shoulders.


    ¡°Thank you, Great Grandfather.¡± I bowed to him respectfully.


    ¡°Aye.¡± He waved the matter aside. ¡°More importantly, I hear you¡¯ve been struck with a bit of wanderlust. That you¡¯ve been living rough out in the woods for over three years now. That you wish, above anything else, to travel.¡±


    ¡°That is true.¡± I slowly nodded, eying him with a curious gaze. ¡°Are you here to take me to the mainland?¡±


    ¡°And for what reason should I?¡± He laughed oh so boisterously.


    ¡°I¡¯m dying to see your prestigious boarding school. And,¡± I coyly added after a shrug, ¡°it¡¯ll be the perfect opportunity to scout out a few more vassals.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm. A few more vassals, eh?¡± Grandfather grumbled to himself as he stroked his long beard. ¡°Very well.¡± He finally grunted, then turned to shout into the service wing. ¡°Emeric! I¡¯m taking the boy!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m right here, Granddad.¡± Father, standing less than a meter to his other side, sighed. ¡°And very well. I planned to make my yearly trip to Odissi soon. It¡¯ll be a good opportunity to introduce Amun to the noble houses. So, don¡¯t mind if I accompany you there.¡±


    ¡°You heard him.¡± Grandpa Lich spat, turning back to face me. ¡°Pack your things. We¡¯re leaving in an hour.¡±


    I watched as my vassals bowed and trotted off towards their quarters to retrieve the few things they still kept at the estate. With no Ebbet, Gerolt, or even mother in sight, it was only me and my literal forefathers. Bringing about a curiosity that always remained at the back of my mind.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering.¡± I slowly broke the silence. ¡°Where is my grandfather? Who is my grandfather?¡±


    ¡°My father¡¯s name is Azrael Cole.¡± Father sighed heavily; wearily. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯ll meet him one day.¡±


    ¡®A.C.¡¯ I suddenly remembered from the scroll I received years ago. ¡°Where is he?¡±


    ¡°In the Under.¡± Grandpa Lich coldly spat. ¡°He¡¯s dead. And even if he could be turned undead, we don¡¯t resurrect family. We commune only.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded, turning to my father to bow. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to open up old wounds.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t fret, Amun,¡± Father reassured me by placing his hands on my shoulders. ¡°I should have told you sooner.¡±


    I bowed again before excusing myself to my room to lounge about and take in the environment for what could have possibly been the last time. My nursery was much the same as it¡¯d been when I was younger, complete with the playroom, small library, and adjacent room. Having been so traveled, I usually wasn¡¯t one to become so sentimental over something like a location. Or even things, for that matter. But, for some reason, I felt a deep connection to this space. The place in which I took my first breath. I was unsure if it was because of my vivid memory or from some magic I was yet unfamiliar with, but a part of me didn¡¯t want to leave this place behind. As foolish as that felt to acknowledge.


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    Regardless, I had to do just that once the hour had passed. I left to rendezvous with my vassals in the service wing. But not before stopping by my mother for a few words of encouragement. The few bags we had and the several more we gained were stuffed away inside my Shadow Pocket, and after a few temporary goodbyes, we were on the trail heading north.


    My grandfather abruptly halted us once the estate got lost in the woods behind us. Yet he said nothing. He only focused his shadow, greatly expanding and rising to form into... hair. Hair and... carapace. Carapace and legs upon legs upon eyes on eyes, all splayed out beneath Grandpa Lich''s hulking form. ¡°Get on!¡± He plopped down on the giant spider''s back before turning to us with a childish grin. ¡°And whatever you do.¡± He stopped himself with his giggles and went as far as to hide his mouth behind his hand as if he were whispering. ¡°Don¡¯t tell Eved I have this.¡±


    I put aside both his cackling and the obvious questions to instead focus on the makeup of this arachnid while I climbed aboard. The flesh was undoubtedly umbral, made of the same akin to the Doppelgangers, yet its carapace retained the same hardness that I was sure its normal kin had. On top of that, the thing positively radiated necrotic energy. Ashen black plumes of the stuff wafted off its body as it skittered about; though it seemed to have no effect on my vassals aside from fear.


    ''Some type of undead shadow, perhaps?"


    Regardless, the spider greatly enhanced our travel speed. We passed by our campsite in less than an hour and showed no signs of stopping. Indeed, without pause or warning, the undead spider darted off the cliffside. Still making my way to the thorax, I saw a braid of fine silk stretching out from the spider¡¯s ass to smack into the ledge some ten meters away. Then vertigo took me. I felt the nostalgic feeling of freefall overtake me as gravity pulled our lateral momentum down to a vertical trajectory. My weak little half-drow hands squeezed harder than they ever squeezed before in anticipation of the cliffside rising to meet us and blow the spider''s legs out. And though one came, the other didn''t. We all were nearly bucked off the carapace from the landing. Yet the spider''s legs kept skittering down the cliff to the frozen waters below.


    Unlike some of Deap Ridge''s southern coast, all waters on the northern coast were frozen out to a few hundred meters. In the beyond was a surprisingly calm sea; whenever it wasn''t storming, at least. But even when it was, the thick ice created a buffer from the gelid, crashing waters in ways that yielded docks, piers, and all the other maritime infrastructure.


    It was around the largest of these piers that a large vessel was docked. At a length of around 100 meters, she appeared like a cross between a yacht and a battleship. Gray-black color and stenciled with the insignia of the Cole house on the port and starboard sides. Upon settling on the deck, the undead spider dissipated into an umbral stream that poured into Grandpa Lich¡¯s shadow while the man himself spat out orders to get settled below deck. We hadn¡¯t even made it there by the time a gentle hum rang throughout the ship, marking the beginning of what would turn out to be an uneventful voyage filled with on-deck training until sunrise. At which time, me and my forefathers would run below deck to escape the sun cresting over the Ridge to our backs.


    Therein brought about a period of respite for my vassals. And for me, a period of boredom. I could sit below deck and lounge, wander, read, or write whenever I wasn''t staring out the window, lost in thought. It took not long to hear the call of the void beckoning to me in the most dangerous language one could speak to me. Curiosity.


    I was surprised- shocked to realize I¡¯d gone on a ten-year streak of avoiding sunlight. Even though the blackwood trees stood as tall as castle keeps, the estate itself was positioned on the southwestern end of the Ridge and thus at the edge of the woods. Relatively speaking. From that acknowledgment came curiosity; and from that curiosity came the impulse to all children do. I took off my enchanted necktie. I touched the proverbial hot iron. And while it wasn¡¯t as devastating as my mother presumed, it was certainly close. It felt like my exposed skin was held too close to a blazing fire. If not in one. My flesh burned, then dried, then fried as the seconds ticked on. Yet it was the light shooting searing needles into my retinas coupled with feelings of dehydration and heat exhaustion that forced me into the shade once again.


    Below deck, however, it didn¡¯t take long for me to grow bored of watching the water pass. Thus, either out of boredom or curiosity, I decided to tinker with my Eternal Eye by establishing a map function.


    Within a fraction of a second, every piece of cartography or topography I¡¯d ever laid my eyes on was compiled and laid out in a scaled-down augmented rendering splayed across the floor. Deap Ridge, the island of royals, sat off the southwestern coast of the mainland. Giving it the appearance of a banana with the curve pointing downward when oriented north. The mainland itself was a roughly circular landmass lined with coves, bays, and peninsulas on every bit of coast one could see. The largest of such peninsulas was a flat, lake-pocked region on the northwestern end, giving it the appearance of a turtle head when seen in tandem with the second largest peninsula to the southeast, pointing away from the coast to form the tail.


    Based on what I¡¯ve read, the entirety of the mainland was split along the middle between the two empires, Deapou on the east; her shadow, Odissi, on the west. Straddling the borders on the southern coast were the twin capitals, Thamestown and Odissi. A large speck of land and light on the horizon. A center of culture and commerce for two prominent empires. A vast city-state that looked like nothing more than a massive sprinkled cupcake embedded into the very ground.


    By nightfall of the third day, the as-of-yet faceless Captain announced our imminent arrival, prompting everyone to gather on various parts of the deck soon after. My father, alone at the bow with a drink and cigar in each hand. My vassals were in the flybridge, admiring the sights they were either seeing for the first time or hadn¡¯t seen in years. Grandpa Lich, on the other hand, was in the aft deck, lounging in a peaceful state of solitude I had every intention of ruining.


    ¡°Are you going to teach me necromancy?¡± I asked after planting myself in the seat just across from him.


    ¡°Ah. There it is.¡± He pointed at me without removing his gaze from the nearly empty sky. ¡°I¡¯m surprised it¡¯s taken you this long to ask.¡±


    ¡°I can ask about more if you want.¡± I chuckled. ¡°About the academy. The Guild Association. New Dawn.¡±


    ¡°They were once known as the Marulean Military.¡± He began, and without removing his gaze from above. ¡°A sovereign entity that has existed long before the empires of Odissi, Deapou, and Epethia were even dreams. Today, they are known as the Guild Association. They are the last remnants of the Phaegrathean and Ulaian kingdoms. They take no part in political intrigue, for they are solely responsible for three things: Maintaining security in Ulai. The distribution of requests to guilds. And overseeing the assessment for the academy. Though they themselves hold no real influence at the academy.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°Like the Guild Association, the Academy is a sovereign entity. Only the academy has sway over the goings on at the academy.¡± He explained. ¡°What the Association does have, is governance over the transit method to the academy. They allow only the strongest Maruleans to transfer in the hopes that some of them will later return to aid the cause in Ulai. But few ever do.¡±


    ¡°Because they choose to say in Nonus,¡± I concluded.


    ¡°Mhm.¡± Grandfather grunted. ¡°I¡¯ve never explored much of it, so I can¡¯t say much, other than the Guild Association has a presence there too. I can only say that the academy is highly secretive. That, and they have courses for both combative and non-combative classes.¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡±


    ¡°The Artificer school, for instance.¡± He grinned slyly. ¡°The place students to become licensed enchanters. Which, as you know, our entire society depends on. But so too is it something every society in both Maru and Nonus depends on.¡±


    ¡®It seems the staff isn¡¯t incompetent then, that¡¯s good.¡¯ I nodded to myself. ¡®I have to get into that class.¡¯


    ¡°So, what else can you tell me?¡± I then asked.


    ¡°That you will go through three years at the academy.¡± He huffed in a type of annoyance I suspected to be faux. ¡°By the start of your second year, you¡¯ll gain your classes; whatever they may be in addition to your Sorcery. That year is dedicated to moving through your paths as quickly as possible. Wherein the third year is where you shadow a prominent guild to learn how such an organization operates.


    ¡°A fourth year is available to the top students of your class, however,¡± he added a few moments later. ¡°It is only half a year in length, but it is the most important for one with ambitions such as yours. Those top students are taken to the Guild Association; either in Maru or Nonus, to receive a few benefits and items that will greatly facilitate the creation of a new guild! The Guildmaster Candidacy Course.¡±


    ¡®Now that is interesting!¡¯ I internally grinned. ¡®It seems I just got another goal to aim for.¡¯


    ¡°Lastly, is the New Dawn.¡± Grandfather sighed, ripping my ambitious thoughts from under me to bring my eyes back to his intensely cold gaze. ¡°That is their ancient name. Their current name is the Empire of Polaris. Our antithesis. They are a family of light sorcerers, far greater in number than we. While they now occupy the largest territory within Nonus and are far away from Maru, they were and forever will be our direct opposition. Their history is extensively tied with ours, Amun. Some have existed as friends. More, as enemies. In either case, always remain wary of them. Yet never let them step on you.¡±

 24 - The Twin Capitals

    ¡°Let me guess.¡± I sighed in the face of Grandpa Lich¡¯s stern gaze. ¡°They think we¡¯re inherently evil abominations worthy of extinction?¡±


    ¡°Our unwritten histories go back farther than you can imagine, boy!¡± Grandpa growled back coldly. ¡°One day you will learn. But it is not my story to tell.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± I sighed, standing to dismiss myself with a casual wave as I walked away.


    "Our lessons will begin once you arrive at the school.¡± I heard him call behind me, though I took his words with a grain of salt. Even if they were true, I couldn¡¯t have exactly looked forward to seeing his lousy teaching skills in action again. Yet, I was aware of the fact that I still needed a teacher. In particular, I needed insight into new spells; for the biggest lesson taken away from my years of training was that I was veritably ignorant in terms of magic and its potential uses. Though, I shouldn¡¯t have been surprised. Nearly all of my knowledge was based on science and technology, after all. Sure, Telin¡¯s hint about the relation between relevant knowledge and power gave me some advantage; but that was only manifested in the strength or effectiveness of a particular spell- denser, colder ice or more control over electrical discharge. Natural effects, more or less. Magic, however, was about making things do the otherwise impossible. It was forming sentient shadows. It was raising the dead. It was...


    It was a myriad of things that I had not the slightest perspective on.


    I softly blew a raspberry to voice my frustrations as I shuffled along the starboard side. A snail''s pace eventually brought me to a stop at midship. If only to breathe and soak in the environment. Within seconds, the agitation and ire of being bored for so long ebbed away, allowing the gentle sounds of the waves lapping against the hull to flow into my senses. Gelid winds uplifted a salted spray as they hurried toward their mercurial finish line. A colorful mural on the senses against the plain canvas that befell my eyes.


    The night sky my forefather had been so intently focused on felt as strange and ethereal as it¡¯d been the first time I laid eyes on it. It was empty. A veritable void stretching from all horizons to my zenith; filled only those few pinpoints of light I noticed long ago. Not stars, I soon realized, but star clusters. Or at least clusters of things resembling stars. Though, individually, there were only about 30 I spotted with my eyes alone. Abysmally low in number, yet enough to combine to yield the same light as the full moon.


    Naturally, that brought about a line of questions about the size of this hypothetical void. Or if it was even a void at all. It was possible we were in a dark cloud that blocked all incoming light. Or, it could''ve truly been a void with a radius from a few dozen to several hundred lightyears. A vast and empty abyss, speckled with only a few stars or galaxies Filled otherwise with nothing but energy. In the real world, that energy was composed of a relatively small amount of electromagnetic radiation and a lot of dark energy; the mysterious force driving the acceleration of the universe¡¯s expansion. I was unsure if dark energy even existed in this world; in that context at least, but it was evident that a similar type of pervasive energy existed in this place: Mana.


    Like dark matter, mana permeated all physical space as a type of ''radiation.'' Yet it had material properties in the sense that it changed densities via some as-of-yet unknown means and was made malleable through force of will alone. More so, it seemed to have a reactionary or perhaps evolutionary effect on the things it influenced. Matter, energy, life, and conscious will; in order of weakest to strongest effect. Mana was the catalyst for change. It changed both the world and itself. Into lightning. Into Darkness. Into paper. Into magical beasts.


    Into the void.


    ¡®Void. Mana. Magic.¡¯ The words echoed in my mind as I fell into the vivid, repeating memories that continued in my meditations up until this very day. Dreams of a vibrant starfield of galaxies, nebulae, and other celestial bodies being consumed by a cloud of dark energy. A living void of horns and scales with pointed teeth beneath draconian eyes. Those dreams; Grandpa Lich''s warning; Telin¡¯s casual ego-stroking; the text displayed to me before being reborn. All of these things made it clear to me that my family history was extensively tied to that of the Mortal Plane itself. If not the universe. A history of war, deities, draconic devils, and near-cataclysmic events.


    ¡®So many ambitions.¡¯ I chuckled to myself as I closed my eyes once more. Truly, there were too many ambitions; too many goals contained in my frail body. Plans to attend this prestigious academy. Intentions to form a guild, breach the barrier, and make something great of Ulai. Goals to grow as powerful as possible. A want to meet a dragon. A need to learn the true history of not only this vast realm; but of my lineage as well. It wasn¡¯t that I was complaining, nor was I disgruntled with the situation in any way. I only felt that three to five centuries wasn¡¯t nearly enough time to learn all that I wanted to in this universe. Thus becoming undead was seeming like a more and more viable solution if godhood didn''t come first.


    In bringing my eyes down to sea level, my gaze passed over the flybridge, supporting my vassals watching the cityscape of Odissi grow closer with the passing moments. Pointing and commenting to each other about the strange landscape ahead that they were either seeing for the first time or becoming nostalgic over. I decided to give them their privacy in favor of continuing forward to the bow to sit next to my father in companionable silence. A silence that lasted for only a few moments.


    ¡°Try not to be too hard on your great-grandfather, Amun,¡± He calmly said, never removing his eyes from the horizon.


    ¡°He¡¯s a great man that I respect and admire,¡± I truthfully said, shaking my head to remove any doubt from my father¡¯s mind. Then turned away, shrugging. ¡°He simply has no talent for teaching, is all. And he''s often dishonest. It''s... frustrating, to say the least.¡±


    ¡°No arguments there.¡± He chuckled into his glass and then took a long sip. ¡°I understand you have no interest in politics, Son.¡± He sighed out an alcohol-filled breath. ¡°However, if you truly plan to one day form and lead your own guild and empire, it would be wise for you to at least get a taste of the political world before you attend the academy; regardless if you intend to have subordinates for such roles or not. As such, you¡¯ll be coming with me to court until we reach your Great-Grandfather¡¯s school. Once there, you will remain until he deems it appropriate for your return to the Ridge.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± I politely bowed. Then turned back to the approaching cityscape to linger in the silence for a few moments before speaking again. ¡°May I ask you a few questions?¡± I turned to him.


    ¡°Ask me anything you like.¡± He smiled amiably.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± I hesitated as I tried to find a way to word the questions. ¡°How do you use shadows?¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± He looked away with an inquisitive squint while puffing away on his cigar. Then he looked back to me, beaming wide with confidence; as well as something else that I couldn¡¯t quite place. ¡°I use our sorcery as a form of... second body, primarily. Secondly, as both a storage device and a form of locomotion. And lastly for¡­¡± he waved his cigar in hand as he tried to find the word. ¡°Environmental uses.¡±


    ¡°Can you give me an example, please?¡± I hopefully squinted at him.


    He eagerly set down his cigar and drink before rising from his chair and nonchalantly asking. ¡°Do you have a stick?¡±


    ¡°Uh, sure.¡± I drawled, reaching into my shade pocket for some tinder.


    ¡°Light it for me, please.¡± Father calmly stated.


    I did as told and lit the stick on fire. Then held the mini torch out at arm''s length. ¡°Listen carefully, Amun,¡± Father said in a much more serious tone. ¡°The true strength of darkness stems from the fact that it persists everywhere. In all environments and in all realms, even in the brightest light, there exists darkness.


    ¡°Look closely.¡± He continued after a short pause. ¡°Observe how the light spreading from that torch touches all surrounding it. Your hand; your body; my body; all the furniture on the deck around us. From these objects, darkness is cast in the same way as light- just as fast as light too. They are similar, you see. Similar and opposites.¡± He grinned maniacally like a conspiracy theorist connecting the strings on their chart. ¡°One cannot exist without the other, Amun. For light and darkness are the same, yet different. Two sides of a single coin.¡±


    With that said, he focused on the flame, and without a motion or gesture, the shadows cast under my hand darkened and swelled upward to consume the torch in an instant. Turning the warm, flickering beacon of light into a cold, blue-violet flame.


    ¡°What is this?¡± I stared in wonder at the abyssal flames dissipating, leaving nothing but the extinguished charred wood in my hand.


    ¡°The Flames of Moil.¡± Father proudly smiled. ¡°A spell with far more uses than what you¡¯ve just seen.¡±


    ¡°That was amazing, Dad!¡± I genuinely beamed at him. Though I also felt a bit of shame for underestimating him in the first place. As a politician, I assumed he never took the time to develop his sorcery. Naive or shallow as that may have been.


    ¡°Oh, it''s nothing.¡± Father waved it off in a meek attempt at masking his pride and joy with humility. Then breathed a subtle sigh of relief at seeing my grandfather approach the bow with my vassals in tow. ¡°I¡¯ll show you a few more spells during our travels.¡± He reassured me with a pat on the shoulder.


    ¡°Very well.¡± I nodded excitedly. Then turned with him to watch the docking process in silence.


    ¡°Welcome to Thamestown.¡± Grandpa Lich spread his arms as a piece of the midship railing rattled to life, rusting and dispersing into a cloud of particles that soon aggregated into an iron gangway.


    Noticeably warm roads of granite cobblestones welcomed us to the mainland. Wide roads and an array of iron plates lined the docks, some of which were deployed like the ship''s rails to form towering cranes for the few cargo vessels around. Otherwise, there was only a calm winter ambiance and the methodical sounds of dock work to accompany us to the base of the cupcake¡¯s head; essentially the side of the mound.


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    The Twin Capitals were built upon a huge, round mountain of black iron and igneous rock some 35 kilometers in radius and over 100 kilometers in height. Though its design was unique and surprisingly efficient, I could only see it as the overgrown cupcake I spotted from the seas; even as my eyes feasted on the elaborately expansive quays and docks and the curvature of the mound above, shielding them from the near-constant downpour of snow. Higher up on the mound''s side, iron walkways and catwalks akin to terraces served as railed streets for the glass-walled shops and malls and houses and apartments. Much to my surprise, each building had an extensive greenhouse installed next to the elaborate entryways, positioned to take full advantage of the bright southern skies.


    While the walkways were more than wide enough for heavy traffic, there were veritably filled on either side with citizens of the Empire. They waved as we approached, took a knee as we passed, then rose to wave, cheer, and give praise to our names long after we¡¯d gone. The only ones among them that stood out from the crowd were the rare instances of an elaborately dressed individual or someone guiding an uncommon pet through the streets. Otherwise, everyone lived laughably better than in nearly every society I¡¯ve ever resided in. There were no urchins, beggars, or vagrants to be seen. Though I didn¡¯t fool myself into thinking that this was the standard across our empire.


    The most fascinating thing of all, however, was the fact that no matter where I looked, everything was powered by enchantments. Sure, Grandpa Lich said such things himself; but seeing was believing. Everything from the streets themselves to the clothes people wore contained those strange crystals. Mostly to fight against the biting cold, but mainly as a form of transportation. Like the platforms we¡¯ve used thus far, nearly all of the latter enchantments were composed of black iron; either in a particle form as before or in the form of cables, walkways, and elevators that connected the different parts of the metropolis together. Much like the railways in Deap Ridge, other locomotive enchantments heavily relied on magnetism. Yet there was little in the way of darkness.


    After a few minutes of wandering and admiring the sights, we arrived at a level on the mound high enough for the first buildings to be erected, if at strange angles relative to the road. Some even needed to be reinforced by thick iron supports, yet they were more or less the same commercially-focused buildings seen before; if separated by arched alleyways and corridors. It was one such alley Grandpa Lich guided us down. Though it was unlit and extended farther than my superior darkvision allowed me to see.


    After checking on my now-blind vassals, I relaxed into my thoughts and began thinking about the geography of the lands I¡¯d be exploring. Based on what I¡¯d read, Thamestown was the port city of the Deapou Empire and stretched across the vast majority of the mound''s surface. As one would expect of a port city, it was a hub of both shipping and commerce and served as the largest source of income to the combined Empires.


    Odissi on the other hand¡­


    A droning rumble ripped my wandering thoughts back to me before they could wander astray. Looking forward to the platform at the base of the stairs, I saw a hollow chasm expanding at the edge of my vision, filling my gray-washed perception with light for the first time in minutes. The ruble increased in both pitch and ferocity as the light and color returned, bringing me to realize the sounds of society as a vast and voluminous cavern revealed itself to my senses.


    It shouldn¡¯t and probably wouldn¡¯t have been stable if not for some unknown type of magic or enchantments, for it was nothing more than a hollow shell of iron and igneous rock so voluminous it had its own self-contained weather systems. Though no murals, flora, or even lights decorated its ceilings. There was only water gathering and pooling across the ceiling to reflect a dawn-like light from the massive crystals growing at their shores. Such light gave the landings like the one we arrived on a soothingly haunting ambiance; especially with their branching catwalks and stairways, twisting and turning and winding along the subterranean complex from floor to ceiling like some madden spider''s web.


    We walked along a private catwalk, looking over the expansive and bustling cityscape as we passed. Even from such heights, however, it was almost too much. Never before had my senses taken in so much information. The smells of produce cut through fragrances of spice and perfume as they spread through the open streets below. Shaken along by the melodic vibrations born from a cacophony of voices and spurred forth by the heat of thousands of bodies seeking the same thing. Pleasure.


    The city was unique by virtue of two things. Geothermal heating and self-contained weather systems. Combined with the melted snow piped in from above, it created the only place in the combined empires with liquid precipitation. A trait that, under my father''s guidance, formed the cornerstones of the Odissian economy: Leisure, Wellness, and Tourism. The entire city was a famous tourist destination for diplomats, aristocrats, and merchants across the realm. Spas, hot springs, elaborate restaurants, and the finest inns served as a proverbial playground for the many Maru''s powerful elites.


    After waltzing above the streets of Odissi, enduring much the same treatment as before, we arrived at a keep-like structure in the rear center of the metropolis to enter a lift that took us to one of the large castles sitting at the top of the mound. I was split up with my vassals at the landing. They were pulled away by some servants while I was forced to chase after my forefathers through the Shadow Realm; only to exit in the face of roaring trumpets, dancing jesters, plush carpets, and rows of posh individuals kneeling at the edge of an expansive dining hall.


    They announced us by name, seemingly to no one, during our march to the grandiose table at the end of the hall. Soon after seating ourselves, four individuals marched inside to receive the same treatment as us. Only they halted before our table to drop down to a knee like the other nobles around them.


    ¡°Welcome, your Imperial Highness, Your Graces.¡± The man and woman in the middle said in near unison. ¡°We of the Noble House of Fulgum are honored to have you in our presence.¡±


    A long, awkward pause stretched between the words of the nobles and any other sound. And in that moment I saw the unease; the fear in some cases, that my grandfather¡¯s death mana naturally brought out of the crowd.


    ¡°Rise and be seated.¡± Grandpa Lich elegantly grunted in his usual tone once the long moment passed. And like roaches scattering from the light, everyone pounced up and scattered to the arranged tables without delay.


    The Fulgum family moved to the seats opposing ours while my vassals and who I assumed were their vassals occupied linear picnic table-like seats on either side of our table. And therein was the moment I turned on my proverbial autopilot. I tuned in only when something interesting caught my ears or when I was forced to socialize with the Fuglums. Otherwise, my Eternal Eye processed my senses while my mind wandered about whatever it pleased.


    I learned several things through the surprisingly tasty dinner of whole-roasted fowl and vegetables. Mostly about the family of tempest mystics that stood below my father in our political hierarchy. Marquis Raiga Fulgum was a man in his forties with bark-toned skin and gray streaks of hair creeping along his temples. A man as tall and solid as the great trees that populated our empire, but not as large and mighty as Grandpa Lich. Marchioness Lilinoe Caglia-Fulgum was a tall, petite, and curvaceous woman with straight blue-black hair and penetrating eyes; she was just as old as her husband but looked as young as both the twenty-something-year-old Countess Rachel Caglia-Fulgum and the Count Liam Caglia-Fulgum standing by her and her husband¡¯s side. All smiling amiably at the lot of us. In terms of magic, the Marquis and his daughter both had lightning magic while the Marchioness and her son both had mist magic. More impressive to me, however, were the reports they gave to my forefathers.


    Through them, I learned that the two heads of the noble family were responsible for all that occurred within the Odissian Empire, with the exception of Koka, my Grandfather¡¯s county in the ''turtle head'' region of the mainland. The count and countess both had their own counties that were each relatively close to the capital city. Though each of them held much the same conditions. Because of the wealth of enchantments our empire was privy to, each settlement in each county was reported to have an abundance of crops they could harvest year-round; obvious results of having each and every structure containing a greenhouse, though each region had specializations in different products. Liam¡¯s city-state of Lalandae specialized in ranching, hunting, and agricultural artisan goods like wine and cheese while Rachel¡¯s city of Cagliostro grew and bred cotton, and silk-producing insects that turned the relatively small city into the fashion hub of the empire. Regardless of where each civilization was located or what they produced, they all were linked via the enchanted bullet trains that stretched across the mainlands. Forming an efficient logistics system that birthed a healthy trade-based relationship between the city-states. Thus fueling the economy.


    Most shocking to me of all was that neither Grandpa Lich nor my father imposed taxes. Neither on the citizens nor any businesses. They and the nobles below them were open to paying a tribute if they so wished. Though if they did, it was implied that Grandpa Lich would deny the offer while my father would accept it for various means. From what I could gather, the deal was that my grandfather; being the Magus he was, would protect each city or settlement with a ''dead zone'' filled with an undead militia. My father on the other hand; being a politician, imposed a tax only on imported and exported goods and invested the majority of that money, the money from tributes, and a lot of Grandpa Lich''s wealth into things like urban development, education, and healthcare.


    It was because of those things that every Odissian and Deapouan citizen had the freedom and rights to not only grow their own food but to receive a free education and healthcare. Allowing everyone to live a lavish life in such a hostile environment, regardless of social class or wealth. Though in my skeptical mind, I knew it wasn¡¯t sustainable. And it was made evident that the empire wasn¡¯t a utopia. Crime still existed, for one. And whether to mine, forage, or hunt, people had to venture outside the dead zones and face the wild beasts of the expansive frozen plains.


    The last notable piece of information I gained from the dinner came from the fact that the siblings; the Count and Countess, were both eying Toril strangely. Contemptuously, almost. As if they were simultaneously jealous of and looking down on him. Conversely, Toril seemed visibly uncomfortable. His eyes were practically glued to a plate that looked like it belonged in a display window rather than half in his stomach.


    Looking back, I had my suspicions when I learned the Marquis and his daughter had lightning magic like Toril. But I hardly expected that he could have been of noble blood. Though that wasn¡¯t what astounded me, it was the fact that I knew next to nothing about him. It was the fact that I knew next to nothing about any of them. Granted, we all met when we were children. But that didn¡¯t mean they didn¡¯t have their own pasts, interests, and dreams; I realized, and subsequently made a point to find out what they were, for each of them.


    After dinner, much the same process of our entrance was repeated until I found myself huddled in a private chamber with my forefathers, the Marquis, and his wife. A treasure room, I realized once my father casually kicked a massive chest of coins and jewels into his shadow.


    ¡°Again.¡± Raiga bowed as my father turned back to him. ¡°It was my pleasure to host the esteemed Royal House of Cole.¡±


    ¡°As always, Raiga.¡± My father grinned at him while patting his shoulder. ¡°I look forward to my visit next year.¡±


    ¡°As do I, Your Imperial Grace.¡± He bowed again. Then turned to me. ¡°And I look forward to my venture to the royal capital in a few years to see Your Grace take the next step on the path to greatness. And above all, I look forward to seeing the magical prowess I¡¯ve heard so much about.¡±


    ¡°As do I.¡± I bowed to him. Then gave a dismissing nod to the Marchioness before turning about to throw somewhat contemptuous looks at the back of my father¡¯s head, disappearing into the shadows.


    ¡°Jeez. That was a nightmare.¡± Grandpa Lich''s groan echoed my sentiments after I fell into the umbral dimension. ¡°I¡¯ll be taking my leave now,¡± He then said, turning to us.


    ¡°So be it.¡± Father abruptly nodded. ¡°We shall retire for the morning and set out at sundown. Expect us in Koka by the following morning.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± Grandfather impatiently waved over his shoulder as he continued down into the Shadowfell. Past the dilapidated streets and buildings and through the semi-solid surface of concentrated darkness. Wherein he disappeared entirely.


    ''Where the hell is he going?''

 25 - The State of the Union

    With the passing of an uneventful day of meditation and lounging about, I emerged from the master keep of Fulgum Castle alongside my father, vassals in tow for a final parade through the capital city. Poised atop an enchanted catwalk that carried us forth, we were forced to look down, smile and wave at the tens upon tens of thousands of citizens kneeling and shouting praise at our passing until we reached a vacant platform at the northern end of the subterranean city nearly an hour later.


    Stepping off from the catwalk, my father approached the ledge to peered over the rail for a second before craning his neck upwards to stare at the ceiling for a long moment. After that long moment, the natural shadows on the ceiling started to condense and soon after form a large threshold in the ceiling. From it, came half a dozen pairs of iron disks, followed by a large base straddled with pistons, a driving arm, and an eccentric crank attached to a massive frame of blackened iron. The construct suddenly lurched downward after a quarter or so of it passed into real space, no doubt causing the relentless pull of gravity to take hold of its mass and pull it violently toward the ground at a panic-inducing rate.


    In one fluid motion, my father threw his arm up in response to the potential catastrophe forming above him. Conjuring several tentacles of umbral energy to sprawl out around the hulking piece of machinery and wrap umbral limbs around the frame to gracefully catch and bring the hulking structure to a gentle rest atop the track¡¯s magnetic cushions.


    In tune with my father¡¯s relaxing hand, the tenebrous tentacles retracted back into the ceiling, revealing three sleek train carts painted a matte gray-black and proudly gilded with the literal mark of the House of Cole on the sides. An inverted crescent moon; akin to a sun rising over the horizon, occluded by a black structure that strongly resembled a leafless tree. The same mark that I and presumably father had; judging from his words on the day I was born.


    ¡°All aboard.¡± My father chuckled, giving me the first taste of being embarrassed by my father in over a century.


    The interior of the cabins was nearly 3.5 meters wide, split in half between residential and service modules for any tenders or servants who happened to come along for whatever rides my father chose to go on. Just left of the entrance was a pantry and tea station while a full kitchen sat on the right. Emplaced along the far wall were several twin berths that were set in a repeating fashion between two communal bathrooms; all laid in the same dark-toned baroque style that my family seemed to favor.


    ¡°Would you mind putting on some tea for us, Jonet?¡± My father asked after sealing the door shut behind us. ¡°The rest of you may enjoy our ride at your leisure. We shall call if we need you.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Your Imperial Grace.¡± Jonet bowed.


    With a jerk of the neck, Father wordlessly motioned for me to follow him to the second car; a double S-curved space with four identical berths, labeled with my name and the names of my mother and forefathers. ¡°Take a moment to get acquainted with your room and meet me up front.¡± Father looked back to me over his shoulder before sliding around the corner.


    Taking pause before the door, I charged shadow mana within myself before I leaned closer to the surface and dipped my head into my shadow racing up to meet me.


    With my head sticking through the shadows lurking on the other side, I saw a surprisingly spacious berth with a full-sized bed tucked into the corner beneath a U-shaped row of storage cabinets. Set in line with the door was a multi-purpose desk that was set at eye level with the narrow windows lining the car while a wet en suite occupied the remaining third of the booth.


    Satisfied with the accommodations, I pulled my head umbral window and went up to the locomotive to hear my father calling out to me before I entered. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re dying to know how this works."


    I could only grin as I waddled over to a large map set into an elliptical table that occupied much of the space behind the console. ¡°You know me so well.¡± I chuckled, focusing on the map. As I saw before, it separated the massive island that was the mainlands right down the middle; with the Deapou Empire to the east and the Odissian Empire to the west. From there, Odissi was split into thirds; with the capital county occupying the southern region near the coast.


    ¡°Our destination is here.¡± Father pointed a slender finger to the border of the next region. ¡°The border town of Emi, in the province of Telma; some 1,474 kilometers away. Now.¡± He waved me over to a panel under the front windshield, wherein several of the crystals were bedazzled into the metal assembly. ¡°These enchantments correspond to the different locations within our Empire.¡± He paused to gesture to a similar set of stones inlaid in the ceiling. ¡°And the Deapouan Empire.¡±


    ¡°May I?¡± I gestured towards the console.


    ¡°By all means.¡± Father grinned. ¡°Simply pour mana into it.¡±


    I leaned closer to study the crystal for a moment before doing what was asked. By appearance, the enchantment stone appeared much the same as a diamond, only tinted the same vibrant blue as the mana persisting around it. Each of them was neatly cut gemstones that¡¯d been etched with strange runes or sigils I had no means of reading or deciphering. More so, each contained traces of mana I felt no connection to; but felt more than safe in assuming it was magnetic mana. With my observations noted, I gathered a handful of mana within my hand and sent it into the stone that corresponded with Emi. Within seconds, a gentle hum began to ring throughout the structure and the floor began to lurch beneath us.


    ¡°With enchantments, there¡¯s no need for a conductor.¡± Father proudly explained from his seat at the elliptical table. Without much else to do, I went around to sit at the opposite end. ¡°The stones throughout the vessel and track will accelerate us to around 500 kilometers per hour. Allowing us to cross the immense distance of the mainland in only a few hours.¡±


    ¡°It goes without saying that life would be much harder without these enchantments,¡± I commented. If only to make idle conversation. ¡°Where do we get the raw materials from?¡±


    ¡°You shall see when we arrive." Father grinned behind his clasped hands.


    ¡°Very well then.¡± I nodded, then turned as a knock at the door signaled Jonet''s arrival with our drinks. And with nothing more to do as she passed them out, I did a quick inspection of the environment.


    It was evident that this car was as much a social space as it was a navigation center. Elaborate tapestries hung between the windows- talking points bordered by hanging rings that seemed to be mounting points for a partition between the map console and the rest of the room. Currently missing so as to expose the comfortable arrangement of benches and booths around the bar in the rear of the cab; comfortably separated from the large table my father and I were seated around.


    My scan was essentially complete by the time Jonet came by with my tea, wherein I was delighted to find she sweetened it precisely to my preference, despite her never having to make it for me before and despite me never even telling her how I liked it. Not only that, she palmed my cup in her hands and chilled it with her ice magic before placing it before me with a knowing smile. With a bow, she retreated into the next car before I could even take a sip of my drink, much less thank her. Veritably stunned, I turned to my father seconds later. ¡°I was impressed by your earlier spell. It seems quite versatile.¡±


    At that, my father perked up. ¡°My Shade Tendrils?¡± He beamed, then reclined further in his seat to hide his smirk behind his glass. ¡°That¡¯s not the only spell in my repertoire. I use the shadows prominently. That is to say, as a form of armor. More specifically, a variation of the Wraith Form.¡±


    ¡°A variation?¡± I pondered aloud.


    ¡°Reinforcement can work in many ways, Son.¡± He advised with a wagging finger. ¡°Think of when you scry through the shadows. It involves focusing shadow mana into your eyes, yes? Yet, it remains a reinforcement spell at a fundamental level. It¡¯s only that the effects are changed due to the body part in question.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± I nodded into a sip of my tea. ¡°I understand.¡±


    ¡°It was only a matter of time.¡± Father amiably chuckled. ¡°Anyway. Depending on the situation, I concentrate shadow mana into either my skin, muscles, or bones. Either at a single time or in conjunction with one another. Imbuing the skin with shadow mana gives our flesh the amorphous properties of solid shade. This grants a resistance to blunt attacks, causing most of them to bounce off of us as if we were made of rubber, rather than phase through us like in the Wraith Form. Though, stabbing or slashing attacks would still remain effective.¡± He added with a wave of the hand.


    ¡°The skin, in conjunction with the bones, provides a great deal of defensive power.¡± He continued after a long swig of his drink. ¡°Your bones will be immune to breakage or fracturing while they¡¯re reinforced with darkness; and if you flood the reinforcement, your bones will become far denser than they otherwise would be. Making you completely immune to blunt damage. The muscles, on the other hand, provide no extra strength.¡± He sighed. ¡°Though they do banish any buildup of lactic acid to your Shadow Pocket, greatly enhancing our endurance.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded, grinning widely. ¡°That¡¯s fascinating.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± Father oh so humbly nodded. Then abruptly stood from his seat. ¡°Would you like to try it out?¡±


    ¡°S- sure.¡± I shrugged to a stand.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    My father¡¯s grin spread wider than possible across his face as he moved to the open area between the head of the table and the nav console. ¡°Alright.¡± He beckoned me towards himself with both hands. ¡°Try to hit me.¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± I hesitantly chuckled. ¡°Is that a good idea?¡±


    ¡°Sure it is!¡± He chipped back as he swallowed the whole table into his shadow pocket. ¡°It¡¯s my train.¡±


    ¡®Can¡¯t argue with that.¡¯ I shrugged. Then moved before him to settle into my stance.


    After a final reassuring nod from my father, I pulled back my arm and leaned forth, aiming straight for his gut while my father just stood there, like he wanted to see what I was capable of. Causing a small ember of anger, rage, or fury to smolder into life within the core of my being just as I rotated into my punch.


    Just as fast as the newfound drive to strike my father consumed me, however, it was replaced- swapped with the sickening feeling of my heart plummeting deep into my bowels. Before I could pull back, retract, or avert my blow, an umbral mass pooled to life and rose to occupy the small space remaining between my father and me. In shamed frustration, I looked up to find his doppelganger, grinning down at my hand embedded into its stomach. A cold mass wrapped around my arm just as I started to try and thrash myself free. Followed by a similar force taking hold of my leg, arm, and remaining leg. Together, those forces effortlessly pulled on my frail body, leaving me helplessly suspended above the polished tiles of the train car.


    Sneering in the face of my father¡¯s seemingly mocking grin, I broke the proverbial floodgates on my mana well and sent an indiscriminate amount of shadow mana toward my father¡¯s feet. Producing my own variant of his Shade Tendrils to wrap its undulating arms around his limbs and lift him up into the air. Dissatisfied, I sent more of the energy to his feet to form a large shadow gauntlet that flexed its fingers after forming, then lunged forward to grasp my father¡¯s torso and palm against the ceiling.


    In the midst of our stalemate, my father and I threw mocking grins at each other for more than a few moments until we eventually burst at the seams with laughter and canceled our spells.


    ¡°Aha hah! That was great!¡± My father sighed heavily after replacing the furniture from his Shadow Pocket and seating himself once more.


    ¡°I should¡¯ve trained with you years ago.¡± I chuckled, returning to my seat.


    Though Father waved my comment aside at once. ¡°Oh, the fault lies with me.¡± He huffed. ¡°I¡¯m a busy man, after all. I don¡¯t have nearly enough time to practice our sorcery as much as I¡¯d like to. The only other sorcerous spells I have, revolve around imprisoning things, stepping through the shade to an advantageous position, and a few other things.¡±


    ¡°Imprisoning things.¡± I pondered aloud once more as sudden realization struck me like a mallet. ¡°My experiment. I completely forgot!¡± In a half-panic, I leaned my face towards the table to first peer inside my pocket.


    I¡¯d ventured inside the umbral dimension to check on it on a few occasions shortly after I first captured it, but I had yet to go inside or take a close inspection after any notable length of time had passed. Thus causing me to hesitate in anticipation before coaxing the creature out of the umbral dimension that was now its home.


    My father had been silent ever since his initial inquiry had gone unheard and ignored. Since then he''s simply been leaning on the edge of his seat, staring intently as his chin rested atop his shaking hands. The moment he saw it, however, he leaped out of his seat, shouting. "Amun, this is Amazing!" Though there was more than simply surprise or shock to his reaction, I observed. Disbelief, almost. Or something I couldn¡¯t quite name. Like I¡¯d done something he¡¯d only heard legends of or hadn¡¯t expected me to be able to do in the slightest. ¡°When did you get this? Where? How?" He asked, cautiously reaching out to a bunny with abyssal fur and crimson eyes.


    "A year or so.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve been too preoccupied with training and forgot to check on it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s always important to stop and smell the flowers, Amun.¡± Father gently advised alongside an awed sigh. ¡°You may be a half-drow sorcerer, but life is still fleeting. Rest can be just as beneficial as training, at times.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡± I bowed. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± He resolutely nodded before turning back to the rabbit. ¡°Now, tell me what this shadow rabbit does.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± I took a hard squint at the rabbit before letting out a conceding. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I can definitely feel shadow mana from it. And a¡­ connection. Like I can feel what it feels. But otherwise.¡± I shrugged without another word to drive home my ignorance. Then, on a whim, I tried to give it a sort of mental order like I would a piece of machinery linked to a brain-machine interface.


    Surprisingly or not, it suddenly leaped from the table to my lap to hop onto the floor beneath the table. Simultaneously, My father and I bent in our seats to see under the table and simultaneously let out awed and surprised gasps at the rabbit flooding the small, lightless region of shade below the table with umbral energy. As it did, the umbral energy flowed back into it, causing its body to swell and morph as if something was crawling about beneath its coat. It swelled and grew with each passing second until it was almost twice its normal size.


    Then it burst at the seams.


    We looked in silent wonder as the process repeated with two rabbits. Turning them into four, then eight and sixteen, and so on and on and on. Duplicating- breeding like rabbits until they swarmed the entire cab.


    It took me nearly two whole minutes to regather my wits and return the mass of bunnies to my Shadow Pocket before turning to my father. ¡°Judging from your reaction, I assume you¡¯ve seen this spell before?¡±


    ¡°N- no.¡± My father struggled to shut his gaping mouth and shake his head. ¡°But I have heard of a spell that fits the description.¡±


    I only raised my brow inquisitively, prompting my father to lean his elbow on the table and start out with a heavy sigh. ¡°Azrael Cole. My father, your grandfather, was a shadow sorcerer who met an untimely demise when I was around your age. He was always off exploring and fighting, so I never spent much time with him.¡± He sighed again, then somehow elevated the emotion in his voice to a prideful tone as he continued. ¡°But, I¡¯d heard many times of his prowess while I was growing up in Deap Ridge. His most famous spell is what he called, Beast Shades. Being a trademark spell, however.¡± Father sighed once more. ¡°He told no one of the secrets.¡±


    ¡®Well, that name won¡¯t do.¡¯ I chuckled to myself. ¡®I¡¯ll have to come up with something better.¡¯


    ---


    I retired to my berth shortly after our conversation died down to spend a bit of time writing and a lot of time staring at the rigid lines of civilization looming on the northern horizon. Though it wasn''t long until we made our final approach to the border city of Emi; a vast area filled with gargantuan greenhouses or warehouses that filled the otherwise barren tundra for kilometers upon kilometers. It was almost as if the structures themselves were meant to replace the obligatory high stone walls of a city with a maze composed of absurdly long buildings.


    Within a few minutes of travel, we had arrived at the station and were standing on geothermally heated streets, waiting in the midst of a blizzard for a sleigh led by some type of large and feral dog-like creature to stop before us.


    ¡°Welcome to Emi, Your Imperial Grace. Your Grace.¡± A curiously short man huffed from behind his thick scarf as he hopped down from the carriage to open the doors for us.


    ¡°Thank you, Sam.¡± My father smiled at him as he stepped inside. Then called back out to him after getting seated.


    ¡°Of course, Your Imperial Grace.¡± He bowed again. Then slammed the door shut to then trot around to the front of the carriage to take his seat behind the supposed wargs. While he got settled I bobbed my head around through the small windows like an owl adjusting its field of view and saw that, much like in Odissi, every structure had a glass wall on the southern face to provide greenhouses for the multitude of residences or businesses of Emi; albeit the structures were far more spread apart and larger due to the extra land the city had claim to.


    Still, it was clear that the people lived in the same levels of comfort as those in the capital; far fewer though they were. There were the schools, medical clinics, libraries and everything else that my father promised would be found in each settlement in the mainlands, as well as banks and a wider arrangement of parks than everywhere else I¡¯d seen thus far.


    ¡°You all will be leaving this Empire one day.¡± My father suddenly began with an intense eye aimed at us. An intensity seemingly birthed his notice of the budding pride I was feeling for the Empire. ¡°When you do, be wise and remember that not all places in Maru are as wealthy or well off as Deapou and Odissi. We are fortunate to have Emperors with affinities for things such as magma, magnets, shadow, and death. Their magic is what protects our cities from invaders or wild beasts. Their magic is what allows our citizens to thrive in this otherwise inhospitable place. With their power, enchantments are made to heat our cities, create fertile lands, and do other things to allow our people to thrive. Because of that, however.¡± He added with a stern tone and a pointed finger. ¡°Other empires in the realm despise us for the care we show to our citizens and keep from the greater realm. As such, they do not think too highly of us. As is their right.¡± He finished with a child-like shrug.


    ¡®Sounds like sour grapes to me.¡¯ I laughed on the inside.


    After swimming among the thoughts wandering around in my head after my father¡¯s story, I set them aside once we entered a town hall-like building to once again sit through hours of court and listen to the happenings of the region in which we now found ourselves. I felt somewhat relieved, however, to learn that this particular court didn¡¯t consist of a dinner, but rather a formal meet and greet. During which, I was introduced to the Marchioness Mellorine Redstone, and genuinely listened to the dwarven woman explain the inner workings of her territory.


    At her core, Emi was a mining town. But was largely considered the industrial capital of the Odissian Empire. Far, far below and a bit around the city¡¯s perimeter were vast underground mining complexes that extracted and refined immeasurable tons of ore from below and used mostly shadow-enchanted equipment to transport everything within. It was through this place that the veritable mountain of ore necessary for enchantments was extracted. Among other things, of course. Naturally, that formed a need for an industry to develop in the city above. And by above, that constituted both the surface and the dugout tunnels beneath it. As time passed, the somewhat unassuming dwarven village of Emi was made into the center of industry and crafting it was today. And it was done without flooding the city with the number of tourists and shoppers seen in the Twin Capitals. On the contrary, Emi was able to retain the peaceful state it had at its inception due to the general reluctance of living underground. Thus some of the finest artificers, alchemists, weapons, and armorsmiths seek out the peaceful complex to live and work beneath the plain, unchanging surface.


    With our conversation over, we listened to the Marchioness'' proclamations of intended changes to be made the following year, followed by a few declarations to the people by my father. While it was a town focused on industry and manufacturing and most of the topics revolved around that, the Marchioness was proud to have three children go off to the Corvus Boarding Academy this year. Similarly, my father seemed all too excited to share that that was where we were scheduled to go next, in turn causing her to leap forward and insist that we not keep ourselves waiting.


    Much like last time, Father led me through the halls of the capitol building to a more private room to be handed a chest full of the coins and jewels that were voluntarily given as tribute. Only this time, my Father wordlessly instructed me to store it in my Shadow Pocket.


    And only after the Marchioness said her goodbyes and the door shut behind us, did my father speak- whisper again. ¡°Don¡¯t spend it all in one place.¡±


    ¡°Wait, this is mine?¡± I chuckled wryly.


    ¡°Where did you think your allowance came from?¡± He laughed just as boisterously as Grandpa Lich as he stepped out into the snow. ¡°You¡¯re responsible enough to receive your annual amount in one sum, are you not? Although, I intended to give you an allowance daily.¡±

 26 - The Corvus Boarding Academy

    Another sleigh ride through Emi brought us to board my father¡¯s train and embark on our journey to the next county by around nine in the evening; a time late enough for all of us to trot off to our berths to retire for the night and for everyone but me to wake up cranky or annoyed come final approach at around one-thirty in the morning. I, however, had been fortunate enough to have gotten a full night of meditation in. Thus I cheerfully made myself presentable before waddling to the locomotive to watch the grayed-out landscape race by.


    Koka, the land ruled by my great grandfather; the High Necro King Cole, was a region similar to anywhere else on the vast plateau of a continent our empire sat on. It was a winter-trapped land of gigantified taiga forests perpetually tinted white, blue, or even black from the magic of this land''s rulers. Speckled, they were, with unforgivingly gelid tundras that howled for thousands upon thousands of kilometers before the odd hill or steaming lake disrupted their paths toward the igneous cliffs, steep bays, and chasmic coves lining the coast.


    Corvus Tower was the only structure found within the vast borders of Koka. A relatively small footprint between the northwestern coast of the Odissian Empire and Corvus Lake; the vast body of water seen as the turtle¡¯s eye on the map. Our route had us straddling its shores and pushing through plumes of steam and dense fog. In time, the frees of frost and lightning and darkness were subsumed by the white cloud, forcing me to shift my senses inward to feel the same energies I sensed elsewhere in the Empire: umbral energies from the trees of Blackwood. Feeding, it seemed, on the necrotic energies in the soil. A true dead zone. A ring the native fauna refused to even enter, relatively small in radius compared to the other cities; yet vast enough to permit a safe and relatively sterile environment for developing youths.


    The campus consisted of a few insignificant structures scattered around a colossal tower; if it could¡¯ve even been referred to as such. The architecture was strange and formless. Like a mountain of magma had risen from the ground and solidified in an instant; or as if a giant threw a gargantuan shard of igneous rock into the ground, creating a fat, wedge-shaped stain on the horizon.


    Looking at it seemed to forcibly bring forth memories from my past life. Before I could help it, I was reliving the experience of seeing an arcology for the first time- the massive structures earthlings began to favor around the time I left the planet for good. In the wake of such nostalgia, I could only stare in awe at the marvel of magic and architecture sitting before my eyes. In turn, my mind couldn¡¯t help but fantasize and dream of one day having my own expansive magical tower. Or better yet, building a few arcologies around the realm.


    ¡°It¡¯s amazing, isn¡¯t it?¡± I heard my Father yawn from behind me.


    I couldn¡¯t even turn to meet his eyes as I nodded. I could only continue staring while muttering, ¡°It is.¡± Then continue staring for a few moments until the train finally started to slow. Only then did I eagerly turn to my father with the aims to confirm my assumptions. ¡°I imagine it¡¯s a self-contained city?¡±


    ¡°Precisely.¡± He nodded, taking the seat next to me. ¡°While it¡¯s true that Corvus Tower is most famously known for the boarding school of the same name, that doesn¡¯t mean that the tower doesn¡¯t boast its own residency as well. In truth.¡± He paused to raise a pointed finger. ¡°Corvus is the center of knowledge in the Empire. Thousands of scholars, historians, alchemists, and the like all flock to Corvus Tower. Not only to live but to freely conduct their research for the betterment of the realm as a whole.


    ¡°Naturally.¡± He continued before I could comment. ¡°That allows for a wide variety of apprenticeships to become available for the students of the boarding academy.¡±


    ¡°Amazing.¡± My head kept shaking in disbelief as I gasped, more to myself than to him. ¡°How does it work, exactly?¡±


    ¡°Well, tuition is free.¡± Father proudly stated. Then let out a more deflated sigh before continuing. ¡°Though, that in itself necessitates a class limit on the school. There are anywhere from four to five-hundred students in each grade, ranging from first through tenth-year students between the ages of five and fifteen. Their primary education consists of five years of fast-paced formal lessons. Arithmetic, history, courtly manners, magic, physical fitness, war, strategy, and musical practice; just to name a few subjects.¡±


    ¡®A few.¡¯ I chuckled dryly to myself.


    ¡°Admissions are handled through an application system.¡± He continued. ¡°All parents or guardians are required to send correspondence detailing their history, way of life, and both the personality and capabilities of their child before an interview is scheduled. If it¡¯s deemed that the child is what the Empire needs, they¡¯re accepted and will begin classes in the first month of the year.¡±


    ¡®What the Empire needs, huh?¡¯ I pondered. If only for a second, as my Father abruptly turned to Toril and the others, standing idly by the door.


    ¡°Would any of you like to explain the schedule?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Yes, Your Imperial Grace.¡± Toril stepped forth into a bow. ¡°All students have a strict schedule they abide by. They rise with the sun to conduct personal hygiene, eat, and socialize until classes begin at nine in the morning. The number of classes and the subjects covered vary with each grade, but all students are given one-hour blocks for lunch and recess.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded, turning back to the approaching platform. In short, Grandpa LIch created and oversaw a place where children of any social class or disposition could be sent to receive formal education, apprenticeships, and moral guidance. In turn, I imagined they''d later graduate and put their developed talents into whatever community they chose to call home, be that in Odissi, Deapau, or even abroad. Regardless of where they went, it would be of some type of benefit to the Empire. And it would only increase with each passing generation. The screening bit was curious, though. I doubted the old undead man did it himself, not that the distinction was of any importance. I was curious about the conditions behind ''what the empire needs.''


    My internal ramblings lasted until the train slid into the station beneath the tower, wherein my father led us to disembark. ¡°Come,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s late, we¡¯ll get you all situated at once.¡±


    We followed without words, entering a barren platform of cold stone to approach neither stairway nor lift, but an alcove shrouded in darkness. Father fiddled with the enchanted console for a bit, then guided us through a sliver of the shadow realm that spat us out in the center of a vast corridor that sent our senses into overload. It was more of a city center avenue than an interior walkway. The median alone was nearly two meters wide. In it sat magnificent statues and great trees coupled with park benches and other furnishings oriented to gaze upon the cobblestone-clad lanes. Sourceless light and a soothing orchestral ambiance hung in the air like cobwebs in an ancient manor. So fitting, they were, one only noticed them after the illusory skyscape on the ceiling so far away.


    However, just beyond our little darkness-filled telephone booth was the greatest sight I had seen thus far. Blackwood double doors made, it seemed, for a giant. It reached as high as the ceiling to showcase the visage of an elderly woman, gaunt and feral. Her sunken eyes burned with the Flames of Moil, illuminating her hollowed cheeks and cold lips, wrapped into a foul sneer with violet wrath. Brandished fangs dripped tenebrous vitriol on the feathered and leafed grimoire, clutched in the claw of her dangling foot. Dangling from the perch of her scythe, curving beneath her like the crescent moon.


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    ¡°Welcome to the Corvus Boarding Academy.¡± Father dramatically stated as the doors to began to creak apart ever so slowly "The largest singular area within the Tower. The academy occupies half of each floor, starting from the twenty-second level, up to the seventy-sixth.¡±


    It was undoubtedly a magical tower. It had to be, for my father gestured around a lobby that may as well have been a copy of the outside environment, minus the snow. The Luna-like light of the star clusters beyond the windows bounced off many square kilometers of lush flowery fields, leaves, and grass. It gave a sort of... otherworldly radiance to the mind-bogglingly spacious indoor garden. Almost as if I stepped into another world.


    ¡°This area serves as both an administration hub and as a social space for all students.¡± Father gestured to the catwalk lining the walls on the upper floor while we were guided to another shade elevator; or whatever they happened to be called. ¡°From here, five floors are allocated to each grade. Ranging from levels twenty-four to seventy-three. Our destination is the level just above.¡± He grinned while fueling one of the many pebble-sized enchantments in the console as if to punctuate his sentence. Then stepped into the seventy-fourth floor without another word.


    Emerging on the other side brought us face to face with a massive, budding flower pot surrounded by a warehouse-sized lounge area; filling our noses with a relaxingly eclectic redolence of spices, volatiles, and pheromones before we moved on to survey benches, chairs, and tables spread throughout the various doors and radial chambers. Restrooms, bath houses, beauty salons, barber shops, and the like. Continuing through open arches on the far wall brought us into an even more spacious area akin to the administration hub dozens of floors below, only this space seemed to have been evenly split into three distinct parts.


    Just beyond the partition was an indoor garden that appeared more like a self-contained community rather than the floor of a massive building. Obsidian plates lined the perimeter of the voluminous park space, reflecting the floating amber orbs spaced evenly between the ''road'' and the intricate joists supporting the matching terrace above. In essence, it was a summer campground put indoors and scaled up to the size of a city block. Complete with scattered pockets of tall, slender trees that provided shade to the many picnic tables, walking paths, and even ponds that made up the first third of the space. Overlooking the largest body of water was an open formal dining area with room for what appeared to be twenty guests. Evidently catered to by the twin entrances protruding across the ¡®street¡¯ beyond each head of the table. But only entertained by a storefront-sized obsidian fireplace embedded into the partition on the far side.


    ¡°You three are free to choose any guest room you fancy and get some sleep.¡± Father gestured to the many gate-like entrances lining the streets and terrace above. ¡°And you, come with me.¡± He pulled me through the shade elevator without another word. Not a moment later, I found myself standing before a scaled-down version of the great doors at the entrance. My father promptly stepped through his shadow upon knocking twice. Leaving me to wordlessly step in after him, and later enter a space more voluminous than each of the prior annexes combined.


    It was entirely modular, bordered by wide walkways, catwalks, or paths set between building-sized spaces of differing floor tiles, wallpapers, and furnishings that easily distinguished each of the zones apart from the next. In the back of my mind, I felt my eyes nearly popping from their sockets as they scanned the veritable hoard of tools and equipment found in what I assumed to be Grandpa Lich''s office. Unfinished paintings and sculptures sat next to workbenches littered with metal shaving or sawdust. Medical or lab equipment was organized across from what appeared to be tables and cases filled with chemistry equipment while shelves of books, tomes, and scrolls sat dangerously close to a kitchen setup.


    It seemed that there was no art or profession my great-grandfather hadn¡¯t taken an interest in over the course of his long life. Which surely meant that he had an insurmountable wealth of information to pass on to me. As such, I couldn¡¯t help but grin in excitement as my father and I turned right upon entering to approach the massive desk in the corner of the room.


    ¡°We¡¯re here, as promised.¡± My father sighed in relief after easing himself into a seat. After another heavy sigh, he slouched further down and allowed his eyes to slowly close as he muttered into the room. ¡°I leave Amun in your care, Granddad. I¡¯ll be heading back to Deap Ridge in the morning. Amun.¡± He craned his neck to peer at me from the corner of his tired eye. ¡°You¡¯ll be staying here until your great-grandfather says otherwise. You and each of your vassals has been scheduled to undergo a few courses here at the Tower. Learn as much as you can while you¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡± I quickly bowed. Then shot my eyes back up to my forefathers¡¯ eyes just as quickly as my progenitor''s fell. ¡°If I may ask How long will I be here, exactly?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re that tired of me already?¡± Grandpa Lich laughed from the same hands-on head, feet-on desk position he was in when we entered.


    ¡°Knowing will help me plan how I¡¯ll pick my new vassals.¡± I amiably explained, ignoring his antics.


    My father subtly turned to me and seemed to ponder for a moment before gesturing toward me with his hand. ¡°Care to elaborate?¡±


    ¡°I need vassals with particular skill sets,¡± I explained with a devious grin. ¡°Because of that, they¡¯ll need to be tested. Extensively.¡±


    ¡°Interesting.¡± Father nodded, then turned his raised brows towards Grandpa Lich.


    ¡°You¡¯re to stay until you¡¯re fourteen or so.¡± He grunted with a dismissive wave.


    ¡®Four years, huh? That¡¯s plenty of time.¡¯ I nodded to myself, and then to them. ¡°Very well.¡±


    ¡°If all is settled, you can take your leave.¡± Grandpa Lich sighed with strong hints of impatience lingering in his breath. ¡°Get some rest. Both of you. There¡¯s a long day ahead of you, Amun.¡±


    I bowed without another word and retreated to the elevator while my father remained in his seat. In doing so, I had the intention to claim my room and spend a bit of time adjusting the training schedule. However, my mind had completely changed by the time I arrived in the expansive foyer. With a new course of action now decided, I stopped just beside the vibrant flower to fill my body with shadow mana and assume the Wraith Form. Within only a second, my body morphed into an ethereal mass of dark mist that floated freely in the ambient darkness lingering in the sleeping tower. And without delay, I slipped between the floors like a ghost and descended through the floors to explore.


    As explained by my father, the 73rd floor and the four following levels below it were all part of an individual module reserved for the tenth-year students; and such five-floor modules repeated in the same fashion until the 24th floor. While I chose not to go through any walls for the sake of privacy, I was able to ascertain that the lowest floor in each module contained the residential quarters, lounges, and offices for the teaching staff associated with that grade of students. The few of them that were living, at least. The second floor of each module held expansive cafeterias, as well as gymnasiums, pools, and other recreational facilities while the third floor contained the dorms, study rooms, and common areas. Classrooms and labs were found on the fourth level and the last floor contained the same peaceful outdoor space I¡¯d first set my Wraith-like eyes on after setting out to explore.


    Though after, I could only let out an ethereal sigh that lingered alongside me as I drifted near the ceiling of the main lobby, inadvertently passing into the auditoriums or dojos or theaters surrounding the upper floor as I wallowed in mounting depression. The most aggravating fact of my new life; I realized, was that I was both exhaustively pleased and frustratingly bored with it. There was so much to learn- so many data points to become fixated on. On top of that, I was proud of the prosperity of our Empire. But that brought with it, a peace that I quite frankly found boring.


    Growing up in the estate was one thing, but traveling and finding the same across the mainlands and every settlement throughout was another issue entirely. I could only hope the prestigious magic academy in Nonus would be far more interesting. Or that this place would turn out to be worthwhile. Knowing Grandpa Lich, however, I felt as if that was nothing but wishful thinking.


    Having already meditated for the night, the one thing I could do was migrate to my favorite place and attempt to lose myself for the next five or so hours. And so, I drifted into the main library at the far end of the base floor, reassumed my physical form once inside, and began wandering the place to get a lay of the land before I got to work. I managed to move through only one or two isles before being spotted by a student. A boy who appeared around my age, whose eyes; focused on my belt, grew wider and wider with the passing of each awkward moment until he hurriedly folded himself into a bow. Nearly knocking his head against the shelving in the process.

 27 - The State of the Realm

    Ed.


    ***


    ''Oh, dear.''


    ''Oh, dear. Oh my. Gods.'' I heard His Grace had arrived, but... never in my life would I have thought he¡¯d spontaneously appear right in front of me. ''Me!? Why me? Where even did he come from?¡¯ I found myself wondering as I stared at his flaccid gaze through the shine in my shoes. ¡®What even is he like? I know he¡¯s powerful, but-¡¯


    ¡°Relax.¡± I heard a whisper.


    Upon looking up to see His Grace holding up his palm in a calming gesture, I took a moment; perhaps several more than I should have, but slowly stood, took a deep breath, and looked His Grace in the eyes. Yet, after all that, my heart still beat a thousand paces a minute.


    He was¡­ shorter than I imagined. Nearly a full head under me, despite being around my age. A boy with dark brown skin and locks that hung past his shoulders like a snow lion''s mane. He had a bulbous nose like that of His Imperial Highness'', with a pointed chin that cradled a thick pair of lips and lightless, piercing eyes that held no hint or trace of emotion or compassion. In fact, if it weren¡¯t for his dress, the ears pointing through his hair, and the striking resemblance to the Necro King, I¡¯d have assumed His Grace was just another edgy student of Corvus Academy.


    ¡®Ah, shit!¡¯ I suddenly; and quite madly, spasmed into a sudden panic. ¡°Where are my manners? I am Edward, Your Grace.¡± I feverishly bowed. ¡°Edward Pascal.¡±


    If there was any emotion behind a raised brow, he showed it. To me, it was nothing of the sort. Thus I remained silent and uncertain as he nodded subtly to my words and took on a distant gaze; silent and thoughtful, before turning back to me with a newfound interest. ¡°Okay, Edward.¡± He whispered again. ¡°What do you do?¡±


    ¡°Uh.¡± I stuttered. Struggled to keep pace with my racing mind. ¡®How can I answer that?¡¯ I pleaded to the sole voice echoing in my head that demanded a solution. We all ¡®did things¡¯ at Corvus Tower. Mundane things. Things that could have been considered hobbies or even professions. Many were focused on some type of might. Others around some type of magic. More were scholars. I was neither good nor bad at any particular thing. I learned, but not enough to call myself a scholar. I fought, but only enough to defend myself. I made things, but only as a means to make things easier. And not nearly at a level high enough to boast or brag about in a situation such as this.


    I knew that I was none of those things. I just¡­ was. But still¡­ His Grace expected an answer, so I respectfully bowed again after my mental debacle. ¡°I am a jack of all trades, Your Grace.¡±


    ¡°In that case, tell me what you can about Epethia.¡± He demanded with no delay or acknowledgment of my answer. ¡°How do they see us? How do we see them?¡±


    ¡°Uh.¡± I stammered again as my mind began panicking. Searching again for a suitable answer to give His Grace within a reasonable time frame. ¡®Aren¡¯t you supposed to be the one to know that, Your Grace?¡¯ I pleaded to him- or rather my mental self. ¡®I¡¯ve spent my life in the tower and I¡¯m barely older than you! I¡¯ve never even seen the southern coast. Let alone an Epethian. But¡­¡¯ I stammered again. ¡°Uh¡­ I only know what my family has said in passing, Your Grace.¡±


    His only response was a drawn-out blink that said all that needed saying in place of words. Thus I quickly found my mouth continuing to stammer on and make a fool of myself. ¡°T- That they resent us for our fertile lands and prosperous life, Your Grace,¡± I said with a heavy breath. ¡°And that such resentments should instead be placed on Epethia¡¯s Emperess. Since she hoards all their wealth for herself.¡±


    He stayed silent for a few moments before nodding vacantly to himself. Squinting at veritably nothing with what I thought was a humorous smirk in the corner of his mouth until whatever he was pondering had been settled, wherein he turned his cold, analytical eyes back to me. Steeling my spine in an instant. ¡°I see.¡± His Grace nodded again, his lips wrapped upwards into a warm smile. ¡°Thank you for your time, Edward.¡± With that, The Grand Duke of Odissi turned away, waving over his shoulder before he began perusing the aisles. Plucking books from the shelves by the handful to be swallowed whole by the amorphous pool of darkness surrounding his feet.


    He turned to me once half the aisle had been looted and seemed to be surprised that I was still standing, staring. Evidently lost or confused as to what to do next. ¡°Don¡¯t let me disturb you.¡± He chuckled lightly through his nose before backing into a shadow hugging the corner. Leaving with my lonesome once again.


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    ¡®Jeez. He¡¯s still here?¡¯ I chuckled to myself, seeing the ghostly visage of Edward still staring blankly at the bookshelf I¡¯d been perusing before the library disappeared behind the walls. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the library held a wider selection of literature to choose from in comparison to my home. Though, in hindsight, I should have expected as much. The estate was a political house, after all. Thus the library was focused on the local regions and their histories. Here, on the other hand, the library contained all the obligatory texts about academics and magic, as well as a wealth of information about Maru as a whole.


    Out of all the books I gathered, I placed the highest priority on two books. The first was titled, Those Called Magus, and started by defining a Magus, in the context of this book, as the highest rank in the Guild Association. In turn, it gave in-depth explanations of the ranking system used by the Association, guilds, and militaries throughout both Maru and Nonus.


    As I learned before, the rankings began whenever an individual gained an affinity core. Yet, there was an unrecognized rank made to distinguish those who have been assessed versus those who have not. Post-assessment, the former Uninitiated mystic would then be granted the status, rights, and privileges, of a knight; regardless of prior class or status. Consequently, an Initiate would be promoted to a Page upon their entry to a guild, military, or magic academy; lasting until they graduate, wherein they''d become a Novice of their respective class.


    Being the equivalent of a Baron, a Novice had the right to travel across the Mortal Plane and join parties, guilds, or militaries as independent contractors if they didn''t outright join an organization. A titular Sorcerer or Witch or Wizard or whatever class a mystic had, on the other hand, was gained upon the reception of one''s tower and was made able to form a legitimate party of up to five independent mystics. Similarly, the rank of Master was the minimum required to become a Guild Master, yet being the equivalent of a Viscount came with many prerequisites that made little sense to me. Rocks that were somehow wise and rooted, something about annexes and trees. Regardless, a Grandmaster Mystic followed upon reaching a combined level of ten and forming a subguild. With two subguilds and a combined level of twenty, one became an Arcane Mystic who equaled the likeness of an Earl.


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    Such were the common ranks. Referred to as such by both their number and the requirement to ease into the next rank. Only the guild masters who''ve uplifted and ''evolved'' a struggling civilization within the explored realms were granted the title of Magi, those considered to be sovereign guilds, nations, and militaries concentrated into a single being. It was where one started to be seen as their guild, rather than the Guildmaster. A place where one would be seen as a special forces operator standing before soldiers. A guided missile before a box of pistol rounds. A Duke with the power to crumble nations and the rights to solo contracts or ''requests'' from the Guild Association.


    To become a Ranked Mage, one had to first be proficient in both might and magic, then venture beyond the explored realms and return with documented proof of their exploits. To return from such a voyage was said to be the end goal for most mystics, for the rank was a ranking system itself. They were compared against each other in terms of the assessment scale, their duties, and the deeds done beyond them. Grand Dukes who saw themselves as celebrities, I imagined. Beyond them, however, were the ones who kept venturing into that vast unknown. Master Mages were those who uplifted and evolved those distant societies. Grandmaster Mages- kings who formed subguilds in those vast lands. Arcane Mages, those who maxed every level; smitten and uplifted entire continents- done everything except change the course of history; either for better or for worse.


    The Magus, or Mage King, was a mage with enough power to rival or even surpass the military might of an empire. Thus they were recognized to be a walking sovereign nation. Such history-changing efforts were indeed the final straw to become one. But others were said to have existed over time. A couple of surviving requirements were to be known across the realms and to have permanently changed a continent-sized region on the Mortal Plane. Regardless of what or when, however, hundreds had risen to such a rank and passed throughout the 1500 years or so of recorded history. Many of whom had multiple affinity cores or otherworldly magical abilities. Light; blades; barriers, even silver. And of course, death. Today, however, there were only five to hold the title of Magus: Everandus Cole, Jamettus Deapou, Zorrenor Knagh, Eligius Silva, and Marcus Morningstar.


    In a way, that coincided with the second book: The Three Monarchs of Peace. It detailed a history between Deapou, Odissi, and Epethia that ran much deeper than I initially thought. According to it, Grandpa Lich and Emperor Deapou met as children in the uncivilized reaches of Phaegrath. Like many others during that time, they were born into a life of perpetual conflict. It was within the throes of war, that they met James Epeth, a skilled mage with a strange affinity for barrier magic. The current Empress''s ancestor. They fought in both Phaegrath and Ulai, those three until an arcane signature appeared on the other side of Maru in the early1200s. Grandpa Lich and Emperor Deapou went to investigate while Epeth remained. In turn, Grandpa Lich and Emperor Deapou received a seemingly infinite mountain of knowledge after finding the elves. And after the elves found Epeth, he received a boost in power. With their help, those three were able to rise to new heights and helped ebb the thousand-year tide of war and suffering that had been plaguing Maru since the gates first opened. Epeth, with the help of the elves, used his barrier magic to seal off the entirety of Ulai from the rest of the world. Trapping all but the weakest monsters on the continent while Jamettus Deapou and Everandus Cole respectively cleansed and plagued the current lands of Phaegrath and Epethia. The effect of the former''s campaign was an exotic badland of volcanic rock that quickly gave birth to a Jurassic jungle. The effect of the latter''s campaign, however, rendered half of the largest Marulean continent into a featureless wasteland.


    After the war, the Necro King and the Iron Magus returned to the cold lands in which they met the elves. The latter used his lava magic to breathe heat into the continent, both warming its interior and caking it in a field of lava, giving rise to the fertile lands of boreal forests existing today. With Grandpa Lich''s army of undead, towns were erected in hours; cities were constructed in days; the empire itself was built in a week and subsequently powered by the marvel of enchantments, gifted to us by the elves. Naturally, Epethia, all of Maru, and the explored realms of Nonus received the elven boons as well. Yet, James Epeth felt left out all the same. He pleaded with the Iron Magus to smother his lands in magma as he did in Deapou. And though he tried, such methods failed due to the tropical climate of Epethia. Far more harm was done than good. In the end, only a comparatively small region that stood east of the Epethian range was salvaged from the ravages of death magic. Yet even that was eventually consumed by the savannas and deserts that formed over the last few centuries.


    ¡®If he had to start over, don¡¯t see why he didn¡¯t move to Phaegrath.¡¯ I snorted to myself, closing the book. ¡®It¡¯s a tropical paradise for crying out loud. And with barrier magic, it¡¯d be the safest place in the world.¡¯ Rolling my eyes against the emperor¡¯s evident stupidity, I turn my eyes to the pile of other books I pulled from the shelves. Particularly one that appeared to be the second edition of the book on mana wells Grandpa Lich gave me. It detailed the mana wells of otherworldly creatures and gave a somewhat vague detailing of their abilities. It started with things I already knew: the abilities of the other creatures. Orcs and goblins could manipulate flora and bone respectively. Vampires could manipulate blood and demons could feed off emotional energy to empower themselves. However, so too did it mention mana wells materializing after some of these creatures were slain; and even implied them being used by wizards as external mana wells to temporarily increase their magical output. Though it said nothing more than that, however, except the interest wizards, nobles, and royals often had in them.


    ¡®So, I was right.¡¯ I closed the book with a satisfied smirk. ¡®Mana Wells can be expanded. Though, according to Grandpa Lich''s words, it sounds like a risky endeavor.¡¯ Remembering my father''s words shortly after my birth, I knew expanding my well was most likely a lost cause. It was a size twelve at a diamond density. As large and dense as they came. For humans, at least. My vassals had far smaller and less dense wells. And thus I was sure this¡­ ''forced expansion,'' would work for them.


    I just had to learn how it worked. And, of course, where to buy one. The cost wasn''t exactly an issue. Not with such an exuberant allowance of 390 thousand gold yearly. And that came after whatever my father saved before my fifth and possibly during my gestation. With an allowance of a thousand gold coins a week that¡¯d been in place since I was five, I wasn¡¯t pressed for money in the slightest. After paying my vassals their salaries for the last five or so years, I still had around 1.8 million gold left. Thus finding a black market was the only issue. The most likely place would have been in the Twin Capitals, I assumed. It seemed the obvious choice, being the trade capital of the Empire, though my skepticism made me ponder if it was instead hidden in some remote area of the countryside instead. Perhaps even on Deap Ridge, hidden in plain sight.


    A sudden knock came from the door, forcing me to throw my thoughts on the back burner and scry through the shadows to see Jaimess standing by my door.


    ¡°The Necro King requests your audience, Your Grace.¡± He bowed once I opened the door.


    "Ugh. Very well.¡± I sighed heavily. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

 28 - Contest

    I squinted- stopped as we egressed from the shade elevator and took our first steps onto the savanna-like 50th floor: a green plateau as wide and spacious as any other floor in Corvus Academy. A vast, vacant space lined with annexes and catwalks and alcoves on the walls to either side of the shade elevators; giving unbridled views of the gelid plains and western coast lying beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows on the far wall.


    Once my eyes readjusted to the blue-green glow of the early morning ambiance, I caught up to a waiting Jaimess to begin moving towards one of the many side paths spaced throughout the place. ¡°Any idea as to what my great-grandfather wants?¡± I turned to him as we rounded the corner.


    Jaimess chuckled lightly to himself before answering. ¡°It seems that the word has gotten out that you¡¯re looking for new vassals, Your Grace.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡± I rhetorically chuckled. In truth, I only needed around five or six vassals to achieve my goals. I needed highly skilled individuals who specialized in different things; for they would later govern entire aspects of my future empire and oversee their own subordinates. Toril would be the military commander, so to speak. Jaimess would oversee domestic, commercial, and administrative diplomatic relations. And Jonet would eventually lead a secret organization of her own. On top of that, I needed a chief engineer and a few other craftsmen. Tinkerers and artisans. The best in all the lands.


    And I had plenty of time to test them.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take a few of them back with us.¡± I amiably commented after a few moments of companionable silence. ¡°So long as they meet my standards.¡±


    Jaimess took on a curious expression but otherwise said nothing before trotting off to the end of the street-like corridor to hold open the ornate pair of double doors at the dead end.


    I nodded my thanks and moved through the threshold to see my grandfather sitting crossed-legged on an elevated stage just opposite the door, his hands crossed before his chest like a gang leader overlooking his crew. Spread across the padded floors before him were a dozen or so clusters of five students maintaining a similar posture: legs crossed, hands resting on their knees and their eyes resolutely focused on my great-grandfather, creepily showing a few gold-capped teeth through a grin like that of the reaper¡¯s lipless mouth.


    Following Jaimess¡¯ actions, I took off my shoes, then moved around the perimeter of the room until I came upon the stage and sat next to the old man. In turn, Grandpa Lich leaned to his left and smiled at me through his peripherals whilst proudly declaring. ¡°These are my fifty-five best students.¡±


    ¡®Uh-huh.¡¯ I nodded to myself as I scanned each expectant face in the crowd; committing them to memory, then snapped my inquisitive eyes back to Grandpa Lich. ¡°Best in terms of what?¡±


    ¡°Let them show you.¡± He grinned. Clapping his hands signaled his students to scramble without a word. To scatter from their seats and line up along the far walls of the dojo so as to reveal several large rings painted on the floor at regular intervals.


    Two-by-two, students began yelling out indiscriminate words or indecipherable orders to one another as they sprinted to the center of the nearest ring to assume their stances. They then the next few minutes dueling each other before the screaming erupted again. And again they scrambled. Again, they sought opponents to engage with. Again, they dueled. For an hour and a half. An hour and a half spent with a wandering mind. It wasn''t that they were bad; not in the slightest. Though they weren¡¯t nearly as good as my vassals and I either. Especially after five years of constant high-intensity training. Why Grandpa Lich assumed I wanted or needed another fighter was my biggest question, yet he seemed all too eager to turn back to me with cheery eyes to gauge my impression after each notable engagement had been concluded. A gesture that only reeled in my wandering mind on a line of frustration. I could¡¯ve been reading, after all.


    After two hours had passed, fewer and fewer students were taking their places in the rings; giving me my cue to personally address both the students and Grandpa Lich to set the record straight. Thus, with a heavy sigh, I rose from my seat and silently stepped to the edge of the stage to center myself and once again scan the crowd of expectant, anxious, or indifferent faces before I began. ¡°While I am honored to have so many of you willing to serve me, I have no need for more fighters. Toril O¡¯Connell is my knight.¡± I declared, eliciting a few disgruntled faces and scowls within the crowd while an amused rumble came from behind me. ¡°What I do have use for, however, are artisans.¡± I continued without pause. ¡°I need a watchmaker and a tailor. And most of all, I need someone who can build things of both mine and your own design. If any such person is present, stand before me now.¡± I gestured to the padded floor below my feet.


    It took a moment. But eventually, someone stood. Someone in the group designated as the five weakest students present. The socially awkward one I¡¯d met in the library, in fact. Whose courage seemed to inspire another to stand. Followed by another. And another, until over a dozen or so students were standing tall below me.


    I waited a few more minutes to ensure no others would approach before motioning for them to stand off to the side of the stage. ¡°As for the rest of you.¡± I turned back to the crowd with a calm, reassuring demeanor. ¡°If you truly wish to serve me, then become as physically, magically, and intellectually capable as possible. Find a skill to master. Or several. Cultivate wisdom. Learn to be a leader. Awaken your affinity cores if you are able to. Attend the magic academy if you are able to. Regardless of what you do, continue to cultivate your mind, body, spirit, and soul. And wait until I return to Odissi in nine years'' time. If I am able, I will send for you personally. Otherwise, be on the lookout for the formation of a new guild- my guild. At which time, we¡¯ll see if you all are capable enough to assist me.¡±


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    ¡°Assist you in doing what, Son?¡± A devilish laugh rumbled through the air from behind me. ¡°What is it that you need my students to be capable of?¡±


    I turned, throwing a quick and nigh unnoticeable scowl to my Grandfather through my peripherals before turning back to the students with the same aura as before. ¡°My goal is to cross the magical barrier and liberate the continent of Ulai from the creatures who¡¯ve surely settled there over the last few centuries. From there, a new empire will be born. And once Maru has become prosperous, we will move on to explore the Mortal Plane in its entirety.


    ¡°Let it be known, however, that I will hold no ill feelings towards those who wish to follow other endeavors in life,¡± I assured them. ¡°Even so, it would be wise of you to heed my words. No matter what cause you dedicate your lives to, forever strive to become the best version of yourself.¡± With a final nod, I stepped offstage and guided the contestants into a back room and deposited on them the thickest book I¡¯d transcribed to date: an in-depth training manual and step-by-step guidelines on the art of horology. As well as a much smaller book about classical mechanics and simple machines, and a blueprint for a particular item that I designed for Toril.


    ¡°As I said before, I need the best watchmaker, tailor, and engineer among you. To that end, you will take part in a competition. You will study the principles I''ll be passing on to you and in turn, will use what was learned to make something of both my and your design. The principles and grading standards will increase in difficulty each year; as will the number of competitors decrease. Indeed, those with the lowest quality items will be eliminated from the competition. Yet you will be graded independently in these three categories. Thus you may choose to put more effort into one over the other if you are confident in your skills. Regardless, keep in mind that you''ll have all year to create the best version of your projects. So take your time and do your best.¡±


    As one, the candidates clutched their books tightly to their chests and bowed resolutely, screaming. ¡°Yes, Your Grace!¡±


    Though I knew there were inherent flaws with this plan, I could only smile at their enthusiasm as I started for the door and gestured for them to file out. ¡°I¡¯ll go over the specifics with you all at a later time. Let us return for now.¡±


    Frustratingly, I couldn¡¯t even focus on a solution, as a great fuss could be heard echoing through the halls the moment we left the little room. A cacophony of jeers, complaints, and pleas bouncing through the door from the main training grounds; only to immediately quell to a blistering silence once I pushed through the door.


    Calmly, I returned to my place behind and to the left of Grandpa Lich to lean into his ear and ask. ¡°What seems to be the issue?¡±


    ¡°Evidently,¡± he chuckled, ¡°there seems to be some students upset by your refusal for fighters. They claim they weren''t a chance.¡±


    ¡°Well?¡± I turned back to the crowd without delay. ¡°Is this true?¡± Many of them seemed to be too stilled by fear to respond; trapped in an uncomfortable silence, while the more timid or brazen of them threw disgruntled, yet hesitant gazes at me or hateful, jealous scowls at those behind me. ¡°Let me guess.¡± I sighed after the long pause. ¡°Some of you are under the impression that you¡¯re a better match than Toril? That you¡¯re stronger than him. That you can replace him as my knight?¡±


    Grandpa Lich seemed to get a laugh out of that. From such a reaction and his actions thus far, it was obvious he intended to allow me to handle the situation as I saw fit. As a way to test my leadership abilities, I was certain, by figuratively throwing me to the wolves.


    ¡°Holy fucking shit,¡± I muttered through my teeth, then took a deep breath to displace my annoyance with some meditative pacing across the stage. ¡°Magical ability. Physical prowess. Intellect. Those are the three things I¡¯ve told you all to focus on, correct?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Grace!¡± They shouted as one.


    ¡°Ah, good.¡± I nodded, turning about to pace to the other end of the room. ¡°I assumed you all only heard the first or second focus, seeing as how you¡¯re all so centered on being nothing more than knuckle-dragging troglodytes who throw punches and fling spells at whatever moves. ¡°So.¡± I stopped center-stage and turned to face them once again. ¡°If that¡¯s all you want to do, that¡¯s exactly what we¡¯ll do.¡±


    They seemed to grow confused or rightfully intimidated by my words. Conversely, Grandpa Lich unfolded his arms from his chest and eagerly leaned forward, an anticipatory grin wrapped around his ancient face.


    ¡°Each of my vassals will occupy the floor for five minutes at a time.¡± I declared. ¡°If any of you can beat any of them in a duel, you¡¯ll have earned their place as my vassal. Understood?¡±


    They again chanted their affirmations as I turned about to approach my vassals and gather them in a huddle.


    ¡°Listen,¡± I quickly said in a hushed voice. ¡°From now until further notice, the rules of force escalation are as follows: Martial combat is always the first to be used; with or without weapons is up to your discretion. If that fails, switch to elemental manipulation and fusion. Your attributed magic should only be used last or when advantageous, that way your mana will be preserved. The only exceptions are for defense from lethal attacks and maneuverability.¡±


    ¡°Acknowledged and understood, Your Grace.¡± Toril nodded quickly.


    ¡°Toril, you¡¯ll go first. Followed by Jaimess and Jonet last.¡± I looked at each of them in turn. ¡°Everyone here is aware of Toril¡¯s physical prowess. As such, I assume only the most confident students will challenge him. However, I assume many of them will go after you two.¡± I nodded towards Jaimess, then to Jonet before explaining further. ¡°Jaimess, you and Toril are infamous here, I''ve noticed. That speaks for itself and leaves the majority of them to go after the one they underestimate the most. The one who appears to be nothing more than a caretaker who follows her master around wherever he goes.¡± I turned to meet Jonet¡¯s ice-blue eyes to make sure she understood how that truly made me feel inside. To ensure she understood how upsetting it was to know that someone would think so lowly of my precious vassals; someone I¡¯ve spent years training to be as self-sufficient and reliant as possible. ¡°Make sure you teach them how deep their naivety runs.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dream of doing anything less, Your Grace.¡± She bowed, hiding the sadistic scowl that¡¯d spread over her face over the last few seconds.

 29 - Duels

    ***


    Edward Pascal.


    ***


    First impressions can be deceiving.


    That was my only thought after seeing His Grace return to the dojo and bend the students to his will in mere moments. In that instance, he exuded all of the qualities of High King Cole: a domineering presence, a keen intellect, and a magical signature that caused all who felt it to tremble in both awe and fear. In truth, I didn¡¯t know what to expect when I first heard the students practically rioting from the halls outside. I only knew the profound moment of pride I was feeling from this opportunity had been rightly ruined.


    His Grace, on the other hand, seemed as placid and indifferent as the moment I first met him. I wasn¡¯t even sure he heard them in there screaming, in all honesty. But when he inquired High King Cole of the situation, it was like seeing a flip switch. But not like seeing a peaceful person driven to anger. It was like hearing a mute speak for the first time. The cold indifference I saw back in the library had been swapped with disgust, contempt, and annoyance mixed with what I felt to be a bit of amusement or otherwise a dangerous cocktail of body language and emotions that caused the entire floor of students to grow nervously still.


    In all honesty, I had no reason to take part in the duels; I¡¯d already decided to compete for the ¡®engineer¡¯ slot His Grace told us about, whatever that even was. At the same time, a part of me felt as if I had to test the unbridled arrogance displayed to me and every other student who called this place home. Not by His Grace, of course. but by that of Jaimess A. Corey. The boy who¡¯d always had the smarter-than-thou attitude. Now that he returned, it seemed to have grown tenfold. So I waited. I watched with no surprise as Toril mopped the half-dozen opponents without the aid of anything other than his body.


    What I was surprised by, however, were his movements. Devastatingly quick and fluid they were. Toril gracefully redirected or countered his opponent''s strikes before attacking their vitals or limbs without remorse. Their chins, necks, eyes, armpits, and groins were punched, elbowed, kicked, and kneed before they were either choked, knocked out, or had their joints locked in elaborate holds that left them howling for the match to end.


    To almost no one¡¯s surprise, nearly half the class gathered around the ring when the bell tolled, signaling the start of Jaimess¡¯ duels. To everyone''s surprise, however, Jaimess did much the same to each and every one of them; including me. Only in a far more brutal fashion than Toril. After four of the weaker students all entered and hobble out of the ring, I slid inside the domain and bounded forth on the balls of my feet up to an otherwise neutral Jaimess. He simply stared at me with those condescending eyes as I moved into range and threw out my right arm toward his jaw. As if were nothing, he took a single step back before parrying my arm with a gentle slap. Suddenly, I was turning away from him; his arms were gripped around my shoulders; and before I could begin to react, my stomach imploded.


    It felt like every organ in my torso had fallen into a vortex and regressed to its former state in just a single second. Sending overwhelming waves of nausea, vertigo, and sickness over my body. Through the pain and spotted blots in my vision, I saw Jaimess¡¯ knee pulling away from me before the world turned, bringing a giant¡¯s hammer to befall the entirety of my back before I found myself on the ground; watching a bruised fist cast a dark shadow over the dojo as it plummeted toward my eye.


    ---


    I awoke to the sound of a tolling bell and a foul taste in my mouth. Ruefully, I staggered to a seated position to see Jaimess curtly leaving the ring before I assessed my new body features. Meanwhile, the innocent and petite girl waltzed into the ring with not a care in the world.


    What followed next was as traumatizing as it was incredible.


    Given her frame, it was easy to guess that those were traits that many of the students seemed all too eager to exploit. Driven by greed and a lust for a higher status, boys and girls of varying levels of strength crowded and practically fought each other around the ring before the bell tolled. The one who broke through was around the middle tiers of strength among the 1 percent of our class. The queen bee, the most-popular and self-proclaimed prettiest, Monica Woodard.


    The girl- His Grace¡¯s vassal, idly watched and hardly listened to Monica approaching with some misplaced apology and wild justification about why she deserved to serve His Grace. Conversely, the girl resolutely ignored her until she stepped into range, at which time she suddenly threw out a roundhouse toward Monica¡¯s ribs. Monica reacted in an instant by quickly settling into her guard, bracing herself to easily catch the attack, and hold the leg in place under her arm; causing a rise in excitement from the gaggle of students surrounding them before the girl suddenly jumped, twisted and brought her remaining leg around in a wide arc. Driving her heel against the back of Monica¡¯s skull with a loud smack.


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    Monica¡¯s head rocked to the side before she teetered forward onto her knees. Still conscious, but hardly ready to oppose her opponent, coming to a graceful landing at her side.


    Without delay, the girl mounted Monica and began raining fists down on the face she was so proud of. Relentlessly, repeatedly, the sounds of grunts, feral screams, and flesh smacking against bony flesh radiated from the ring as the girl continued her merciless beating. In desperation, Monica threw out her arms to claw or grab her opponent but the girl simply took hold of her wrist and wrapped her legs around Monica¡¯s body before she violently leaned back. A bloodcurdling crack pierced the air in the next moment, preceding a horrid scream that was quickly silenced by a swift kick to the jaw.


    Without so much as a deep breath, the slim, unassuming girl threw aside Monica¡¯s crooked limb aside and returned to her feet to stare at the circle of horrified students. And for the remainder of the four minutes and fifty or so seconds of her duel, not a single student dared approach her.


    Up on stage, High King Cole had been bursting at the seams with laughter the entire time; yet it didn¡¯t give way until after the bell sounded, wherein the iconic, boisterous howl echoed alongside the dull tone and continued long after it stopped. Even after his laughter ceased, his face remained split in an ear-to-ear grin as he rose from his seat to give His Grace a few back-breaking pats. In turn, His Grace threw a visible scowl at the Necro King on the latter''s way to the edge of the stage. ¡°I don¡¯t know whether to be immensely proud of my great-grandson, or ashamed of you all.¡± He paused to chuckle a bit softer; a bit more contemptuously. ¡°Each of the Grand Duke¡¯s vassals has just beaten you all without the aid of any magic or elemental manipulation whatsoever. All of you!¡± He cackled. ¡°Many of you may be unaware of this.¡± He leaned forth over the edge of the stage, exuding his towering presence on the lot of us from wherever we were seated. ¡°The Grand Duke of Odissi is self-taught in the art of martial combat. More so, Toril, Jaimess, and Jonet have trained under the Grand Duke himself. Brutal training. Every day for the last five years.¡±


    ¡®Wait!¡¯ I recoiled in shock. ¡®His Grace trained them!?!¡¯


    I wouldn¡¯t have believed the top students in the class had all lost in such a brutal fashion if I hadn¡¯t just witnessed it myself. But to think that what I saw were the results of the Grand Duke¡¯s tutelage was simply too much to comprehend. Doing something on your own was one thing. Teaching it to another was something else entirely. And the fact that we were the same age made it almost impossible to believe. Even being the Necro King¡¯s great-grandson, I felt as if there was no possible way a ten-year-old could be that prodigious with fighting. Magic was almost a certainty regarding royalty, but martial prowess was another matter entirely. Of that, I was positive.


    ¡°Who here knows the difference between a warrior and a soldier?¡± His Grace asked from his seat, ripping my concentration away from my newfound trauma. ¡°Any warrior classes that may or may not be notwithstanding, who here knows the difference? Hmm?¡± He pressed, rising from his seat to begin pacing and eying each of us individually. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you. The warrior is based on tradition. The warrior fights using traditional weapons. The warrior fights in the traditional garb of their people, singing traditional songs, hoping for a glorious end in battle so they may return to their ancestors or see whatever afterlife their tradition dictates. They fight to preserve this tradition, knowing that war is not what kills it.


    ¡°The soldier then, is based on principle.¡± He continued. ¡°The soldier does not fight using tradition, for the soldier fights using whatever means is necessary. The soldier does not fight with one weapon, for the soldier knows there is the proper tool for each job, thus the soldier trains to become proficient in all tools. The soldier does not wear a standard set of clothes for the soldier knows that the clothes maketh the man. The soldier knows the unease born from them wearing a battle dress in a market square; just as the soldier knows the folly of arriving on the field of war in one¡¯s undergarments. The soldier does not sing or dance before, during, or after the battle; nor do they believe they are fighting for a glorious end. The soldier fights because the soldier knows what must be paid to create and sustain a nation''s people and ideals. Thus the soldier chooses to suffer so that others suffer not.


    ¡°I say that to say this. A soldier marches on their stomach.¡± He seemed to catch himself, as his head suddenly perked up before he turned to the High Necro King. ¡°A living army, at least. At any rate, an army cannot fight and will not fight well without weapons to swing and armor to don. That is the true difference between a warrior and a soldier. A soldier is a professional member of an organization. A cog in the machine that understands they are simultaneously the most and the least important aspect of their organization. They understand there is far more to their success than the number of proficient fighters on their team. They are important, yes.¡± He nodded. ¡°But infinitely more important are the builders who design their fortifications; the crafters who create their weapons; the teachers who teach recruits the ways of war; the farmers who feed them. All the people who strive to keep our society running the way that it does. The guild and subsequent empire I will one day create will be much the same. A place where the artisans, laborers, and teachers are as revered as generals and commanders. I need people skilled in all facets of society. For my guild will be composed of more than mere soldiers. My guild will be the best trained. The best equipped. The best fed. The most informed. The fittest, craftiest, most capable individuals in all the realms.


    "My guild will be Legion." He declared with a cold grin. "My Legionaries will be legendary. But legendary, they cannot be without a legendary industry. Soldiers, they cannot be without logistics. Warriors, they cannot even be without a culture. And a warrior without a culture is no different than bandit trash. Understood?¡±


    Y- yes, Your Grace.¡± Everyone; and I, muttered in shock.


    ¡°Good. You are dismissed.¡±

 30 - First Recipe

    ¡°Well said.¡± Grandpa Lich''s words broke the still silence that ensued from my piece.


    Backpedaling to my seat, I passed him rising from his throne to approach the edge of the stage, lean over the crowd, and growl. ¡°It would be wise for you all to remember this day well. Now, off to class.¡± He threw his bear paw of a hand dismissively. ¡°Those of you who are injured, head to the witch hut immediately. The rest of you are released.¡±


    The students bowed in unison before converging into various groups or cliques and filing out the door. Immediately filling both the dojo and the expansive corridors beyond with a cacophony of chatty noise.


    ¡°That includes you three,¡± Grandpa growled at those behind me. And with a bow, they too rose from their seats and filed out the door behind the mob of students, idly chatting to themselves. Leaving me and the undying old man by our lonesome.


    ¡°I assume you¡¯d like a tour of the school?¡± He turned to me only after the still silence had returned.


    ¡°I¡¯ve already explored most of the place,¡± I said. ¡°But, I am interested in what you can tell me about the place.¡±


    The corner of his lip curled up in a soft sneer or scowl before he grunted, surged his body with shadow mana, and released it into the room. Just as fast as a torch or light would come to life and illuminate one''s surroundings, the magical darkness Grandpa Lich produced spread across the room in a fraction of a second; coating the expansive space in the drab gray-on-gray tones I¡¯d long since grown familiar with. I wondered the reason for him releasing the domain, though. Especially once I saw his ghostly visage drifting toward the ceiling. He uttered not a word until I emerged on the 51st floor, wherein he pointed from our little dark corner to bring my eyes to the college campus-like complex. ¡°All students have classes eight out of ten days per week. "Five hundred fifty-six of them belong to the sixth year. This floor, the two above, and the two below is their domain. Here, outside, and in my office is where you¡¯ll be spending the majority of your time, Amun.¡±


    I quickly shifted my gaze from the environment to his ethereal body, curiously grinning at me. ¡°Doing what?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s up to you, for the most part.¡± He coyly shrugged, then took on his physical form to step towards the elevator.


    A moment later, I stepped through the entrance of his office just as he was settling behind his desk, reaching down to hoist a large chest onto the already cluttered surface. ¡°Care to help me?¡± He asked, dumping the chest''s contents with a sickeningly sly grin.


    I tried not to scramble after seeing the loot for what it was, but all in vain; as I snapped out my hand to grasp one of the radiant gems as soon as the mountain of gems settled across the desk. It was no larger than a bottlecap. A diamond with the same pale blue radiance as the ambient mana around us, neatly cut and carved with strange runes or sigils on the largest facets. They seemed to be an amalgamation of various tribal, native, and aboriginal symbols or hieroglyphs from ancient Earth and, I presumed, the Mortal Plane; arranged or merged with each other to form a single character.


    ¡°All we have to do is prime them with shadow mana.¡± Grandpa Lich gestured to the larger pile on his right. Followed by the smaller one on his left. ¡°And death mana.¡±


    I paid close attention to the gem in hand while mana was withdrawn from my well. Out of the affinity core, it flowed as always, changing the blue fluid into a river of amorphous darkness that soaked into the crystal like a greedy sponge. The mana flowed until the thing was, I assumed, full. Denoted by the abyssal black hue of the crystal etched with blue-white sigils. ¡°How do these work exactly?¡± I gasped in fascination, placing the primed enchantment onto the desk.


    ¡°If I¡¯m not mistaken, the runes indicate specific conditions for a spell. That¡¯s all I know, however.¡± Grandpa sighed as he threw down a completed stone. ¡°Artificers are the most secretive of them all.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded, set down yet another completed stone, and picked up another to closely study the runes, logging them in my Eternal Eye.


    After becoming familiar with the priming process, it was evident that each enchantment required a different amount of mana to become activated, thus the pile before us couldn¡¯t be charged all at once. Taking that and Grandpa Lich''s words into account, I compared the sigils with every other enchantment I¡¯d seen thus far and came to hypothesize each sigil represented one of at least six conditions. Most likely, they were comprised of activation time, duration, the three spatial dimensions, and power output. Even if I could memorize the sigils, however, I had no way of deciphering them without testing each enchantment. And considering they were usually at the center of a piece of architecture like the frames around the shade elevators, I figured that¡¯d be an unwise course of action and decided to make do with memorizing the foreign symbols as I primed them.


    We spent the next few moments in companionable silence, Grandpa Lich and I, fueling enchantments and otherwise enjoying the peaceful environment of the expansive office around us. Relatively short those moments may have been, they allowed me to gain a newfound perspective or appreciation for my great-grandfather, Everandus Cole. Before, I only knew him as an aloof old man who was unable to hold an intellectual conversation for more than a few minutes at a time. Looking at him now, however, I only saw the pinnacle of wisdom and power that everyone else in the Empire saw when they looked at him. Or... something between the two. Here was a man who had spread his influence over entire worlds. And multiple times throughout history at that. A Magus who created and upheld the prosperous Empire we were a part of for nearly two and a half centuries.


    It was natural, I assumed, that I¡¯d be eager; if not desperate, to learn as much as I could from the great Necro King of Odissi. And for once, he seemed willing to teach me.


    ¡°As I was saying on our way here.¡± He eventually broke the silence with a dramatically strained grunt. ¡°The sixth-year students and above have completed their formal lessons. Thus they are able to take apprenticeships in whatever profession they please. Which brings me to why I brought you here.¡± He set down a completed stone as if to punctuate his words, then leaned forward, squinting at me intently. ¡°Your Father and I had a discussion. We came to an agreement. A deal.¡± He growled low in his grizzled voice. ¡°If you¡¯re truly serious about breaching the barrier and taking back Ulai, you and your vassals will need to be as strong as possible; as you''ve said. But much sooner, Amun. Before you attend the awakening ceremony. Thus we agreed to increase the difficulty of training that was already in store for you. If you affirm your goals to me, Amun; your training will be far more grueling than both your father¡¯s and his father before him. Combined.¡±


    ¡°My goal hasn¡¯t changed.¡± I quickly stated. ¡°I will form a guild to take back Ulai, build an empire, then explore the Mortal Plane in its entirety.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Grandfather grunted. Nodded to himself slowly before he curtly tilted his head like a curious dog. ¡°And what will your guild be called?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t decided yet.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°Well, let me know when you do.¡± A soft chuckle pushed him back into a recline. ¡°As you may have guessed." He paused to pluck another uncharged gem from the diminished pile. "You¡¯ll be taking a few classes and training with me during your stay at the Tower. For now, I have you assigned to take classes in recovery and healing magic. Otherwise, you can choose whatever classes you like.¡±


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    ¡°Alchemy and artificing,¡± I said without a second thought.


    ¡°Hah! Artificing can only be learned at the academy.¡± He laughed. ¡°On the other hand, I can arrange for you to attend an alchemy class after lunch. They¡¯re doing a practical exercise today, coincidentally. Though you¡¯ll be more of a spectator, rather than a full participant.¡± He added with a pointed finger. ¡°You won¡¯t be required to attend the classes you¡¯ve chosen on a regular basis and can drop in whenever you please. Though your other lessons are mandatory.¡± He sternly growled.


    ¡°Understood.¡± I curtly nodded. Then leaned forward in my seat a bit. ¡°If possible, I¡¯d like my vassals to receive certain classes as well.¡±


    ¡°They already have schedules set in place for them.¡± Grandpa huffed out a laugh through his nose. ¡°But I¡¯m open to amending them, given a suitable justification.¡±


    ¡°All this time, Toril has been training with a one-handed axe,¡± I explained without pause. ¡°He needs to receive professional lessons with his weapon and learn to use a shield as well. Additionally, Toril needs lessons; preferably from you, on military discipline, tactics, and leadership. On top of a smithing course.¡±


    A single brow shifted on my Grandfather¡¯s brow. ¡°A smithing course?¡± He asked, clearly bemused.


    ¡°It¡¯ll give him a better connection to his chosen weapon,¡± I explained. ¡°An appreciation or a new perspective on the inner workings of his weapon. Plus, it¡¯ll give him the ability to forge his own one day.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Grandpa nodded slowly, stroking his beard. ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°Jaimess needs to continue learning of finance, business, and politics; preferably from my father, but I understand how that may be difficult. More so, he needs to learn to properly fight with a mace and shield; if not with dual weapons. Most importantly, he needs art lessons. Whether it be drawing, painting, or sculpting doesn¡¯t matter. He simply needs to expand his imagination beyond mere numbers and equations so he can unlock the full potential of his paper magic.¡±


    ¡°It is agreed.¡± He quickly nodded, surprisingly with no debate. ¡°And for Jonet?¡±


    ¡°She needs tutelage in espionage and covert or clandestine operations. On top of that are two things.¡± I held up two fingers. ¡°First, is that she receives theater classes. By learning to act, dance, and sing, she¡¯ll learn to not only blend into any environment but will gain the means to secure an advantageous position from which to gather information. Second, is that she receives the same lessons as Toril and Jaimess, for politics and war are powerful tools for a spy.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± He nodded after a few long moments. ¡°Your terms are agreeable. I shall amend their schedules by tomorrow. As for you.¡± He pointed a thick finger towards me, coincidentally concealing most of a sadistic smile spread across his face. ¡°Your combat training and necrotic education begins tonight. And it will continue every night after until I say otherwise. During the day, you may take whatever lessons or classes, or otherwise do as you wish. But come nightfall, you are to report to me.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± I bowed in my seat. Grabbed another gem and fell into another silent rhythm of fueling and replacing enchantments with my forefather.


    Sooner rather than later, we worked through the entirety of the pile, bringing Grandpa Lich to shove them off the edge of his desk into a shadow-infused filing cabinet before regally clasping his hands atop the cluttered desk. ¡°It is nearly an hour before noon, the bell for lunch is soon to ring. The alchemy class begins at one in the afternoon. With all your... exploring, I¡¯m sure you know where to find it. So¡­¡± He gestured to the door with a hand and a subtle smirk.


    Fighting back the impulse to roll my eyes, I nodded my goodbyes and rose from my seat to lounge about in the parks of the guest floor until the bell rang. With the vast majority of the students on the 50th level, two floors below; presumably scattered about in their groups, gossiping about the events of this morning, a peaceful silence was left to accompany me while I admired the industry and architecture. As I essentially expected at this point, each structure within this level was dedicated to a specific field of study. Entire warehouses sat next to massive labs, workshops, factories, storefronts, and pieces of enchanted machinery that dwarfed the clusters of buildings in the center. It was an engineer''s playground though and through. And my time to play would come soon enough. For now, it was class time.


    A bit of meandering saw my arrival at a large complex near the far left corner of the floor. A towering, modulated building of blackwood and white marble that; like the other industrial buildings, had large vents, tubes, and conduits breaching the walls behind them. Inside were complexes of classrooms, offices, and labs that one would expect to see at a prestigious university. Only blown to immense proportions. Like every other module in the place, a vibrant, bonsai-like tree sat just beyond the door, reaching upwards to the vaulted ceiling to spill earthy scents and cast a bit of shade on the sample cases lining the four-way intersection. To my left was the administration hub while the labs sat off to my right. Continuing forward brought me through a set of great doors to enter a lecture hall furnished with what I assumed to be alchemical tools on the terraced desks. Only one being was inside, however.


    Standing at the bottom, near the center, was an animated skeleton scribbling furiously on the board with his bare finger. The bone of its body was bleach-white and wreathed with a black and gilded robe that covered all but his forearms and lower legs. I made it halfway down the steps when a sudden something shocked his spine straight and spun him around in a blur. "Forgive me, Mast- oh?¡± He spasmed again, then looked up at me through the empty sockets of his eyes. His lipless, gold-toothed mouth held agape as he studied me intently. ¡°You are the young master!¡± He finally gasped. In... my mind. Like a telephone call heard through ear implants or straight-up telepathy. But I could hardly concern myself with that now.


    ¡®Do not call me that.¡¯ I immediately spat back in my mind. But he only continued staring, somehow with visible confusion. So, I audibly repeated myself in the same tone. ¡°My name is Amun. Not young master.¡±


    ¡°Forgive me.¡± He bowed again. ¡°However, you are royalty. So, I shall refer to Your Grace by your title.¡±


    ¡°So be it.¡± I subtly nodded. ¡°I assume you¡¯re the alchemy teacher? I¡¯m here to spectate your class.¡±


    ¡°That I am, Your Grace.¡± He bowed. ¡°My name is, Urda, the Mixer. I¡¯ve been the Necro King¡¯s alchemist since long before the Empire existed. I¡¯d be honored for you to bless my class with your presence.¡± He bowed again before erecting himself.


    ¡°I¡¯m honored to receive instruction from one as experienced as you.¡± I bowed in turn. ¡°I¡¯ve been told there¡¯ll be a practical exercise?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Grace.¡± Urda nodded while gesturing to the many stations scattered throughout the space. Each of them was topped with simmering pots of a mushy red liquid that filled the air with the soft earthy smell I detected earlier. ¡°We¡¯re making common healing potions today.¡±


    "Oh?" My ears perked up at once. My eyes snapped my eyes back to him, wide with anticipation as I nearly frothed at the mouth. Only to have my mirth stolen.


    ¡°Regretfully, the hard work is already done.¡± Urda sighed. ¡°Though, I can give you the recipe. If you like.¡±


    ¡°By all means.¡± I nodded, content with the newfound middle ground.


    ¡°Common healing potions are made from Amanita mushrooms, of all things,¡± Urda explained in a more lecturing tone, complete with pacing, drawn-up diagrams, and punctuated gestures. ¡°The recipe calls for one to grind the mushrooms in a mortar and pestle before mixing the resulting paste into an even ratio of distilled water. The resulting mixture is then to be brought up to a boil and simmered for six hours with the lid on before it is then reduced to the consistency of a watery syrup.¡± He paused to gesture at the many stations around us. ¡°Once filtered and cooled to room temperature, the result is an incomplete potion that is a slight pink color. Completing the process requires one to add a drop of their blood. Giving it the trademark crimson color healing potions are known for.


    ¡°Because of the process, however,¡± Urda added. ¡°Each potion is only consumable by the blood donor and has a shelf life of thirty days after activation. Conversely, the incomplete forms have a shelf life of a year and are what is commonly sold in the markets.¡±


    ¡°Fascinating!¡± I gasped. In other words, alchemy was simply this world''s version of chemistry; but mixed with a bit of the culinary arts and a lot of phytotherapy. Yet the process was still the same as chemistry: different materials were added or subtracted and put under any number of atmospheric or thermal conditions to produce a reaction that formed something else entirely. Only in this case, the concoctions produced by alchemy yielded magical effects.


    Like many things in this new life, however, new knowledge only yielded more questions. Namely. "What happens if someone who¡¯s not the blood donor drinks one?¡± I asked.


    To which Urda solemnly shook his head. ¡°Absolutely nothing, Your Grace. It¡¯s an utter waste of product and materials.¡±

 31 - Weak as a What?

    I saw no reason to sit around after Urda¡¯s explanation thus I left shortly after asking the undead alchemist a few more questions; but only after he thrust a basic alchemy set and a copy of the recipe into my arms. With self-affirmations to attend the same class tomorrow, I returned to the guest floor to retreat to my ¡®room¡¯ for a meal and find a way to pass the time.


    The entryway leading into my room was more like a gate on the terrace to the right of the 74th-floor landing. Within was a winding walkway through a garden lawn of flowers and vegetables in various stages of growth. All overlooked by a veritable mansion sitting within its own walled-off lot. It was spacious enough for a well-sized family at least. A great foyer led to an expansive great room and connected kitchen doused in wood floors and stone furnishings. The upper floors held the bedrooms and offices for the tenants while the lower floor was advertised as an ¡®entertainment space¡¯ that I had no particular interest in at the moment. Whatever forms of entertainment in this universe were a far cry from what I was used to. For now, at least.


    Even then, however, magic was far more entertaining.


    And so it was, I made and quickly devoured my meal so as to grant me the most time to split between my hobbies. I wrote. I read. I practiced something I''d hardly been touching as of late: Mana manipulation.


    Though I still knew atrociously little about mana, that didn''t prevent me from taking hold of the energy with my mind. It prevented me from doing anything more than whirling the supercritical fluid around in hopes of making some observations- and observations, there were. Passing it through the brush and trees made their leaves sway violently and smoke as if they¡¯d been struck in a violent lightning storm, yet they neither got hot nor even burned. Nor did they proceed to a crisp when I formed a spectral hand of mana to grab things akin to telekinesis, for the volatile energy crushed or shattered dozens of cups, plates, and other common household items with the slightest influx of energy.


    My solitary training session ended just after the evening bell. Finished with their classes for the day, my vassals emerged onto the guest floor shortly thereafter and froze upon sensing me throwing mana about the place with wild abandon until I noticed the hope and reluctance on their faces. Part of me wanted to prank them. But a larger part of me led them to the dining table to share the good news.


    ¡°I amended the training schedule during our stay at the Tower,¡± I explained. ¡°Each of us has studies we need to devote ourselves to while we¡¯re here. So from now on, training will be done on our own time; with our Doppelgangers. We¡¯re to focus on three things. First is body conditioning; namely strength and pain tolerance. Second is to continue developing new spells and gaining proficiency in known ones. And the third is flight training.¡±


    ¡°Flight training?¡± Jaimess leaned his wrinkled brows closer.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it doesn¡¯t need explaining, but we need to learn how to fly. And in more ways than one.¡± I declared, pulling out a few tomes to distribute. ¡°Here are my ideas for flying with elemental manipulation and fusion, as well as some ideas for locomotion using your magic. Feel free to expand upon them or come up with your own ideas for both.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± Toril took his book with an excited nod and immediately began flipping through the first few pages.


    ¡°On top of that.¡± I continued. ¡°I¡¯m toying with the idea of training the students while we were here. We¡¯ll need to start recruiting sooner rather than later. Training the students here would drastically save some work for us in the future.¡±


    ¡°That is true.¡± Jaimess nodded, stroking his chin. ¡°I assume you want us to teach them your elemental theories then?¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡± I nodded. ¡°In truth, I only told them to train because they¡¯re loyal to my Great-Grandfather; and by extension to me. But I realized that if they¡¯re trained now, they can, at the very least, become officers when the guild is formed. They too have their studies, however, so I figure it¡¯d be best to hold the sessions on the weekend. Or you can have the students decide themselves.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Your choice, Toril. I entrust this task to you.¡±


    Toril snapped away from his book to give a curt nod at the mention of his name. "Understood."


    I could only smile at the change in attitude my vassals were now showing me. A long and slow process though it was, I could finally relish in not being called such obnoxious titles by those closest to me; while in our own company, at least. Though I dared bring such observations to light, lest they relapsed.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been curious.¡± I continued after a short moment. ¡°I mean, I understand Toril¡¯s case, but I don''t understand why you''re so infamous here, Jaimess.¡±


    ¡°I have an unlikeable face, I suppose.¡± He meekly shrugged. To which I gave a contemplative frown and nodded.


    ¡°True.¡± Toril erupted in derisive laughter as a shocked outburst molded on Jaimess'' face. ¡°You seem¡­ unapproachable." I continued. "It''s because you''re naturally quiet. And your resting face makes your thoughts and emotions hard to read. Generally, that makes people think you''re hiding something, you''re dangerous, or you''re arrogant. But that can be a good thing.¡± Jaimess only squinted at me with eyes flooded with bemused distress until I dismissed the matter entirely, wherein they widened with a grim realization of the truth. ¡°Anyway, what''d you learn in class?¡±


    ¡°Reasonably well.¡± Toril sighed out the last of his laughs. ¡°I spent most of the day fighting undead. Though the wooden axe you made for me broke. I was since given a training weapon. Metal but blunt.¡±


    "Nice."


    ¡°My classes are¡­ interesting.¡± Jonet vaguely stated and said nothing thereafter.


    "Mmm."


    ¡°My first day went well.¡± Jaimess eventually came back to his normal self with a heavy sigh. ¡°Though I had a similar experience to Toril.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± I nodded. ¡°In recognition of my goals, my father and great-grandfather decided to increase the difficulty of our training. To that end, he seemed all too eager to train me and allow me to amend your schedules. So, make certain you use the vast lot of recourses available to us. We''ll be here for four years, after all.¡±


    ---


    Our small talk continued throughout dinner and into the evening, wherein my vassals went to train and I migrated to my room to lounge about until sundown. Like waiting the few hours before a long-awaited product launched, that was. Thus I was I waited to step through the shadows of Grandpa Lich''s office the moment the sun set beneath the Plane.


    ¡°You are ready, then?¡± His voice echoed out to me as soon as I entered the space. I resumed my physical form as I approached him, silently nodding. He in turn beckoned me to stand beside him on the balcony behind his desk, looking down on the vast, western coast.


    Due to its structure, the Mortal Plane allowed for unbridled views of literally planetary distances from the right elevation. From here, the expanse of giant trees that was Deap Ridge appeared to be nothing more than a thicket of shrubs growing on a distant mountainous island. Yet somewhere beyond those vast churning waters were lands beyond my wildest dreams. Hells, both fiery and frozen. Paradises, both arcane and Mesozoic. And just to the east, where that blue-green glow danced across the waters, would be my launching point to see it all.


    After a few moments of silent awe, a hammer of a fist saw fit to slam against my back, bowing my chest forward with enough force to vacate the air from my lungs and topple me over the rails. Clenching my teeth, I immediately flooded my body with shadow mana to take on the Wraith Form, then floated back up to the balcony with an all-to-visible scowl.


    Ignoring my glare, Grandpa Lich took on the same form and sped past me, calling over his shoulder for me to follow him on a descent toward the lake. I flew faster than I ever have before; in this life, while trying to keep up with him. The sense of vertigo, adrenaline, and unbridled freedom was something I¡¯d been unknowingly longing to experience again. Thus I was unsurprised when I found myself disappointed after settling my physical body on the shores of Corvus Lake. Disappointment or not, however, Grandpa Lich began without pause or delay.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you have many questions, Amun. Most of them shall be answered during our studies. Before that, however, comes combat training.¡± He paused as his shadow darkened and spread alongside him. From it, emerged a few creatures I¡¯d only read about in books and stories; and a human of course, all made of the same solid necrotic shade comprising the spider that carried us across Deap Ridge. They were like the Doppelgangers, grayscale. Yet parts of them glowed with a distinct gray that seemed a bit different from the rest. almost as if they were... scars.


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    ¡°We¡¯re to start with a strength test. One quite simple in nature.¡± Grandpa gestured to the line of umbral creatures beside him. ¡°You are to try and knock each undead on its ass. Starting with the human. Followed by the dwarf; smaller, yet just as dense and strong as a strong man. The hobgoblin comes next.¡± He pointed to a grotesque, almost rat-like humanoid standing just as tall as the human. Albeit with comically large hands and feet, long arms, and a haunched posture. ¡°Hobgoblins are commonly said to have the strength of a weak adult or a strong teenager.¡± He continued by pointing to a dwarf-sized humanoid with long sideburns and somewhat pointed ears. ¡°They are followed in strength by halflings, comparable to an athletic teenager. And finally, the goblin. With its slightly above child-like strength.


    "As you may have noticed.¡± He continued. ¡°We both are Shadow Necromancers. That is to say, our necromancy stems from the Underworld; thus it must use darkness as a conduit to enter the physical realm. As such, those we kill and subsequently raise resemble our doppelgangers, yet they retain the personas and abilities they had in life. This is the closest you will come to killing another being, for the time being at least. For now...¡± He stepped aside to make space for the human undead. ¡°Strike them down!¡±


    I settled into a boxing stance and took to shuffling around the human. A 30-something-year-old man donned in light armor of grays on grays, crouching with his hands on his knees to put his condescending smile at eye level. I allowed the full weight of my sentiments to fuel a swift right cross to the undead man''s chin. Yet all that came of it was a distant pain in my hand and a widened grin from the undead. His head didn''t¡¯ even budge from the strike. Much to my chagrin. Thus I lashed out at the hobgoblin with equal fury, only for its face to rock to the side a bit, but was otherwise unaffected by my left hook. Neither was the halfling, who¡¯d been forced a single step back after I put my all into a punch once again. So naturally, I was more than frustrated when the last undead standing before me was the goblin; a rat-eared creature much like its evolved variant, albeit a bit shorter than myself.


    ¡°As I figured.¡± Grandpa Lich grunted once the goblin was left sprawled over the snow. ¡°You¡¯re as weak as a goblin. Though that¡¯s to be expected. And it''s certainly nothing to be ashamed of.¡± He quickly reassured me with bared palms. ¡°All elves are physically weaker than humans. In exchange, they are magically gifted beyond comparison. Furthermore.¡± He paused to lower his hands to reveal a quite malicious grin ¡°You are the sole elf who has a way to grow stronger over time.¡±


    ¡®How do you know that?¡¯ I internally quipped before asking. ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°Necromancy. The method is to steal the life force of another and take it as your own.¡±


    ¡°Like a¡­ Leech Hand.¡± I nodded in understanding.


    ¡°Aye.¡± He grinned. ¡°And a fitting name. A bit misleading, though. But I digress.¡± He shrugged. ¡°The next step of your Leech Hand is False Life.¡±


    ¡°False Life,¡± I repeated, prompting the gears in my mind to churn. ¡°I imagine this¡­ False Life can be used in two ways.¡± I pondered aloud. ¡°I can drain their vitality and use it to heal myself, or I can drain their energy and use it to empower myself. But, is that energy added permanently to my body, or is it stockpiled within?¡± I wondered aloud just as much as I asked. And much to my delight, he answered.


    ¡°That is up to you.¡± He grunted. ¡°Though, I will tell you that it has risks. Think of your body as a barrel of fermenting ale. Too much yeast; or false life, produces too much gas; or energy, causing the barrel that is your body to burst at the seams.¡±


    ¡®That¡¯s a terrible analogy.¡¯ I internally snorted.


    ¡°Your training will consist of strengthening your body until you can permanently hold enough strength to defeat a hobgoblin or preferably, a human. To do that, your body must grow accustomed to pain and suffering on levels mortals cannot even begin to comprehend. You must be broken, healed, and broken again so your body can naturally strengthen over time. You must learn to teeter on death''s door, Amun. For that, is how our sorcery blossoms.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡± I nodded resolutely.


    ¡°We shall see.¡± He chuckled, stepping before me while his undead faded into obscurity. ¡°Now, draw your weapon and inflict a killing blow on me. And don¡¯t hold back.¡± He added with another laugh. ¡°You couldn¡¯t kill me if you tried.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t let such words go unchallenged. And so I pulled mana from my well and allowed it to flow through the entirety of my affinity core, then guided the resulting mass of void to my hand and rose a single brow towards my forefather. ¡°Is that a fact?¡±


    ¡°Ahhh.¡± His grin faded just as quickly as his head hung in defeat. ¡°I retract said statement.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but grin as I canceled the spell and relaxed my posture.


    ¡°Now them.¡± Grandpa cleared his throat. ¡°Attack me. With your weapons.¡± He added. ¡°And don¡¯t hold back.¡±


    Nodding, I reached behind a nearby tree to withdraw my wooden spear from my Shadow Pocket. Prompting an immediate outburst from Grandpa Lich- one of mocking laughter. ¡°What in the seventeen hells is that!¡± He reeled back on his heels, pointing at my weapon like a child.


    ¡°It¡¯s not as if I could go out and buy my own!¡± I immediately spat back. ¡°I even asked my Father, who claimed weapon smiths were frothing at the mouths to give me their creations. But I have yet to see any.¡± I scoffed. Then looked intently into my grandfather¡¯s eyes. ¡°My vassals and I need real weapons sooner rather than later, Grandpa. We need time- years to get used to fighting with the real thing.


    "Besides.¡± I shrugged, looking away a bit as I muttered. ¡°I¡¯m sure I read that royals were supposed to have nice weapons.¡±


    ¡°Oh did you?¡± Grandpa Lich burst out in laughter. ¡°With a royal genius comes both hubris and presumptuousness. You, Amun, are unmatched in all three! Wahahahaha!


    ¡°But you make fine points, as always.¡± He sighed himself down to a calmer demeanor. Then reached into a shadow cast by a nearby tree to toss me a pair of unremarkable daggers. ¡°Now, quit stalling and kill me. If you can.¡±


    Gripping each dagger in hand, I lunged forth. Grandpa Lich reacted immediately with a hook thrown faster than I ever thought possible. I scrambled at the last second, bringing the blade between my ribs and the oncoming fist just in time to feel the wet resistance of flesh being sliced under my hand, but nonetheless felt an eruption of pain bloom over my left side just before the world turned.


    And turned and turned, further blurring the grayed-out, snowy environment around me until I realized I came to a rest quite some time ago.


    Seeing the towering, menacing form of my grandfather on approach, I tried to best to crawl to my feet; only to feel and hear a symphony of cracks, creaks, and phlegmy coughs ringing through my body like church bells. He made it within striking range before I struggled to an upright position. Yet he paused to withdraw the bloodless blade from his knuckles without a sound or grimace, leaving a wedge-shaped hole that leaked wispy gray clouds into the ambiance. Almost like vaporized blood.


    With the pain pushed away to the back of my mind, I managed to reach for the knife he''d thrown at my feet and used all my strength to bring the point of the blade up towards his chin. Grandpa Lich simply stood in place as if he didn¡¯t see the incoming attack and consequently shuddered in place as the hilt of the dagger came to a rest on the underside of his jaw. Yet, even with a blade sticking through his skull, Grandpa Lich¡¯s face curled in a foul, sadistic grin.


    ¡°Good.¡± He cackled, pulling the blade from his face before handing it to me. ¡°Now that I know you have the will to kill, we can begin. But first.¡± He took my hand with his free arm and made me slap his comparatively massive face. ¡°Heal yourself.¡±


    Struggling to nod, I pulled a handful of mana from my well and allowed it to flow through my core to be attributed to death magic, then guided the sinister energy to my hand. Like the floodgates were opened, energy began pouring back into my body. Prompting me to imagine and will it to flow into my cells to repair what was damaged and replenish what was lost. The result was excruciating. It was like time had been turned back. Like I''d been forced to experience the beating I was just given in reverse. Bones twisted and pivoted back into place within seconds, producing stomach-turning cracks that echoed across the lake¡¯s surface until my body was left a spasming, but healthy mess; sprawled out across the snow.


    Then, Grandpa Lich swung.


    And I scrambled. I tried to kick off the snow or at least block the incoming hammer fist. But again, Grandpa Lich punched through my blade, shattering it entirely before his fist went on to smash my stomach against my spine. A foul concoction of blood and body fluids spewed from my mouth like a dragon''s breath as my body contoured around his arm. In my wild thrashings, I managed to scar and slash at his cheeks until he retracted his arm and gave me a swift backhand. Then the world went dark. The stinging of my nose, the tears welling in my eyes, the taste of iron spreading through my lips, they all disappeared in mere seconds. Leaving my consciousness by its lonesome, slipping in and out of reality in ways that made me feel as if I were watching a movie while half-asleep. I watched at a mental distance, the falling snow and the rain of massive fists pulling away to bring on the light; then plummeting to spread the darkness. Until... there was only light.


    In that light, I once again felt my hand be pulled to a lumpy, leathery surface of skin and so struggled to activate the Leech Hand. Then endured the painful process of necrotic healing.


    I fought back as best I could throughout the following rounds, but each time Grandpa Lich''s mammoth-sized fists made contact with my body, I found it instantly impossible; if not improbable to move to attack or defend myself in time. He was unnaturally strong and even more, fast. With the passing of the hour, I''d hardly done any damage to him. His hands and arms were scarred, a gaping hole was present in his left armpit, and I managed to stab him in the stomach. Yet each injury or wound was simply shrugged off and oftentimes used as an opening to shatter a few of my bones, destroy my organs, or send my frail body flying across the snow. In the hours after, I sometimes wound up ¡®killing¡¯ him. Most times I wouldn¡¯t, though. And each time would end with a grin or laugh or even some credit for my performance while I writhed and healed on the ground. Then he¡¯d reengage with added effort.


    It only took a few rounds after that for it to turn into a one-sided beating. For my body to start caving around the large, heavy hands attached to my grandfather¡¯s wildly swinging arms with increasing ferocity. He didn¡¯t explain himself after the initial briefing. And I didn¡¯t complain. I knew, deep down that his words were true. That I had to get this privileged body used to pain and hardship as much as possible. For, if Telin was true to his word; if the monsters on the other side were truly as formidable as the books made them seem, there was a lot of pain and hardship in store for me and mine. Of that, I was sure. And so we fought until I could fight no more. I¡¯d heal and then we¡¯d fight some more. Over and over again. Unceasingly, until midnight passed on Corvus Tower; wherein I came to my feet post-healing to find my forefather smirking proudly.


    ¡°That was the last round for the night. Now, we begin your training in Lesser Necromancy.¡±


    ¡°Lesser¡­ Necromancy?¡± I slowly repeated.


    ¡°Aye.¡± He nodded with the same smirk as before. ¡°Now open your Shadow Pocket and let me inside.¡±

 32 - Into the Under

    A single grunt echoing throughout my personal dimension of darkness signaled Grandpa Lich''s entry into my umbral pocket dimension. I turned to see him drifting through the space with a proud grin, born from his eyes dancing around the granite and gold, the provisions and water, the scrap metal and wood; nodding to each aggregation as he passed until he stopped at the shadow rabbit, emerging from a ¡®burrow¡¯ of solid shade to turn its crimson eyes up at him.


    ¡°You have a good start.¡± He grunted again, continuing onward- downward through my umbral dimension as if he''d never seen a thing. Or so I thought. ¡°Make sure you bring out that beast of yours when we return,¡± he said in a noticeably disgruntled manner.


    I simply nodded and followed him further down into my Pocket until the masses of materials were like stars in the sky above us. Shining like gray pixels in the infinite expanse around us. I knew not how far we were traveling, nor how fast. We simply kept descending, falling until the ¡®air¡¯ began to take on the same foul, sinister qualities as the necrotic energies within myself. The umbral atmosphere took on an unmistakable blue-green tint while haunting, sorrowful sounds echoed sourcelessly. Though it was distant due to my affinity, the energy invoked the weight one experiences when faced with mortal danger; a primal terror that could reduce the most resilient specimen into a wild, panicking liability.


    It was a bit beyond that sickeningly beautiful feeling when we slowed at a massive set of gates. If they could even be called such. It was more like the same waving branches of my mark and family crest. Only the branches were tendrils of necrotic energy that writhed and twisted over one another like a sentient thicket of mangrove roots. ¡°Welcome to the Under.¡± Grandpa Lich declared as we passed through the unfurling gates.¡°Or rather, welcome to your domain of the Underworld.¡±


    He paused to gesture for me to continue my descent. And though I did, I came to a halt above a vast, nearly barren plain of gray just moments later. No matter where my eyes fell, there was only the dense smoke-like substance that constituted the ¡®ground¡¯ in this space, broken apart by a single structure standing far, far below. A structure Grandpa Lich began drifting towards. ¡°This is where our undead resides. In our shadows.¡± Grandpa stated as he slowed to orbit a necrotic throne similar in shape and appearance to my mark, family crest, and the gate we just passed through.


    Breaking my concentration, Grandpa Lich suddenly peered to his feet as if to look through the floor. And pointed. ¡°Our domains are situated above the true Underworld. Look.¡± Following his eyes, I saw a field of what appeared to be¡­ ghosts. Legions upon legions of them, all crying, shouting, and fighting ceaselessly as far as the eye could see. ¡°The souls you see are trapped in two loops.¡± He held up his fingers. ¡°One physical, one mental; and their experiences overlap.


    ¡°In their physical, ethereal forms.¡± He continued before I could ask. ¡°The souls fight ceaselessly, as you see down there. They feel the pain of their engagements. Yet their minds are elsewhere. They experience variations of their death, time and time again. If someone is stabbed to death, for example; they¡¯ll find themselves impaled by many things during their stay in the Under: they¡¯ll be speared through by the tusks of a mammoth before finding themselves falling onto a jagged rock in the next moment. And they¡¯ll in turn be met by their friends blade after they pass again. Over and over again. All the while experiencing the pain their ¡®physical¡¯ selves endure during the battles down there.¡± He punctuated his words with a final gesture to the Under proper. ¡°Phantom pain on top of physical and emotional pain, Amun. Coupled with mental torture by the devils of the under.¡±


    ¡°Sounds brutal.¡± I chuckled dryly.


    ¡°Very.¡± He grimly chuckled in turn. Then gestured to the plains around us. ¡°Our domains are akin to cloud cities on the Mortal Plane. Or stars.¡± He immediately corrected. But it was too late.


    "Cloud cities?" I asked, wondering. ''Like the Venusian ones?''


    ¡°When we sit on the necro throne.¡± Grandpa continued as if I said nothing. ¡°Our domains shine brighter, casting their metaphorical light on the Under. We can then summon souls from the Under to commune with them if we know their names or possess something of significance to them. It still takes a bit of work, though. However.¡± He devilishly grinned. ¡°Summoning those who share our blood is a much easier endeavor. We have a direct connection to the six ancestors to precede our birth. Past that.¡± He sighed, looking down again to the plane of warring souls. ¡°You have to find them yourself.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± I slowly nodded. ¡°So, this is how I¡¯ll be able to meet my Grandfather, Azrael Cole.¡±


    I noticed a soft, labored smile appear in the corner of his lips; if only just for a second, before he responded. ¡°Aye. As well as my father, grandfather, and great-grandmother. Though.¡± He sighed heavily. ¡°That will be done on your own time; in privacy.¡± He added with a pointed finger. ¡°Always remember, Amun. This is your most sacred of spaces. Your temple.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± I nodded. Then followed the hulking figure of my Great-Grandfather, ascending back towards the gate.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering. What¡¯s the significance of this?¡± I gestured to both the passing gate and my stomach. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s obvious that it''s our family crest. But, do you have it as well? Does everyone with a magical affinity have a form of¡­ mark?¡±


    Grandpa Lich only raised a single brow as he turned to me intently. Then let out a labored sigh as he turned back to look ahead. ¡°There are some things that you can only learn at the magical academy, Amun. Including the name of the magical academy.¡± He wryly chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°That also includes the nature behind these marks. I will tell you, however, that everyone with an affinity core does indeed have a magical mark. Due to the common location of the mark on an Initiates body, however, it¡¯s commonly considered rude to ask about them. Ours has been with us since the beginning, I¡¯m told. Though it¡¯s a fact that your mark is undeniable proof that you are of the Cole bloodline.¡±


    ¡®Hmm.¡¯ I halted to ponder and beckon the shadow rabbit from its hole to guide it towards the exit. ¡°It seems like the academy has a monopoly on knowledge.¡±


    Grandpa Lich responded not. Yet he somehow conveyed that we shared the same sentiments nonetheless. ¡°Now then," he burned to me upon our return to the Mortal Plane. "How did you learn that spell, Amun?¡±


    ¡°Experimentation.¡± I quickly smirked.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± He grunted, eliciting a small twitch out of his eye. "Does this¡­ shadow rabbit have a name?¡± He threw his pointer at the thing cradled in my arms.


    ¡°Roger,¡± I said, almost without thinking.


    ¡°And what can Roger do?¡± He phlegmatically asked. ¡°What did you name the spell?¡±


    ¡°His ability is duplication.¡± I calmly blinked, fighting back the absurdly strong impulse to not pet the bunny. ¡°And, I plan to capture at least one other creature before I name the spell. Sadly.¡± I sighed. ¡°There are little to no animals here at the Tower.¡±


    ¡°Then it seems you will have to wait.¡± He chuckled in the pettiest manner I¡¯d seen thus far. Then activated the Wraith Form to take off toward the castle, yelling over his shoulder. ¡°Come. It¡¯s time for your lessons.¡±


    He led me to one of the many modules within his expansive office and laid across the sole, polished stone slab occupying the otherwise barren subspace in the far corner. ¡°Use recovery magic to heal me.¡± He bluntly stated.


    Despite the questions and curses flowing through my mind, I stayed silent and studied the many wounds riddled across his body. While they were no longer ¡®bleeding¡¯ death energy, they still appeared as fresh as when they were first inflicted. Raw meat and oxidized bone stared back at me as I scanned my forefather''s massive figure, waiting for him to begin. ¡°As the name suggests, Recovery Magic aids in recovering non-threatening wounds. It is mending broken but set bones, forming scars, and any other healing process that would naturally occur in the body. Accelerated under the influence of mana.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded, approaching his side to hold out a tentative hand. ¡°How do I do it?¡±


    ¡°First, get a feel for my mana well. Then manipulate the mana around my body by pulling on it. Pull and push, Amun. Ebb and flow until the mana in my well is drawn towards my wounds.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± I focused my eyes until I saw the volatile blue energy that persisted everywhere around me, tinting the world in a shimmering blue veil as if the air took on a drastic increase in density. Focusing further on Grandpa Lich, however, yielded a humanoid-shaped mass of crystalline energy. Nearly straining my eyes, I saw the familiar ashen-black growth nestled deep within the diamond-density mana; along with another one of similar color.


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    ¡®I imagine this what an evolved body is like.¡¯ I pondered. ¡®It¡¯s almost like¡­ his mana well has spread across his entire body. Like¡­ it exploded. Or quite possibly, imploded. Yet it''s still there.¡¯ Noticing my grandfather¡¯s impatient gaze, I did as instructed and subtly took hold of the mana above an ambiguous scar before gently pulling on it. Then pushed and repeated in a smooth, repetitive motion. A constant rhythm like that of a heartbeat. Repeated until the dense mana within his body began to flow towards the many scars and wounds on its own.


    ¡°Keep going until the recovery is complete.¡± He sighed in relief; almost making me want to stop instead. ¡°And keep in mind that the size and density of the victim¡¯s mana well are what determines how much healing can be done. If too much mana is pulled from the well, they¡¯ll suffer the effects of mana exhaustion on top of whatever pain they were already experiencing.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± I sighed in relief, pulling away from his healed body. ¡°But, I thought only elves can manipulate mana. And, why is your well so large?¡±


    ¡°Only elves can cast with mana.¡± Grandpa Lich corrected. "Other creatures can still manipulate mana. And we can even use it in a few ways as well; though to a far lesser extent than you or your mother. As for my well.¡± He simply shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s because I am a Magus.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± I sarcastically nodded, rolling my eyes.


    ¡°Since it¡¯s training day zero, we¡¯ll end our lessons early.¡± He grunted as he swung his feet to the floor, then rested his hand atop my shoulder. ¡°Get some rest, Amun.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡± I quickly bowed in response to the music that just played in my ears. ¡°But first, I wish to run something by you.¡±


    He slowly turned on his heels, groaning loudly. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°I wish to train the students while I¡¯m here.¡± I quickly stated. ¡°I plan to have Toril make the announcement after classes later today. They¡¯ll be primarily trained in my Elemental Theories and Fusion. And whatever else they decide.¡±


    ¡°Do as you wish.¡± He quickly spat with a dismissive wave. ¡°So long as you don¡¯t interfere with their classes, I care not.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± I gave another dismissive bow before assuming the Wraith Form and descended through the floors to actually sleep the night away for the first time in a few years.


    ---


    By sunrise, the school was veritably abuzz; loud enough to permeate the walls of whatever floor I found myself wandering until classes began. Though as expected, the buzz died down whenever I happened to come around. So, I jumped into the shadows and poked an ear through the shade of people, trees, and other things to sample the tea. To no surprise, they were talking about me. Specifically as to how amazing my vassals were and about how they couldn¡¯t believe that I trained them myself. A few of them even mentioned that they wished I train them too. Prompting me to heavily debate pushing the announcement forward. If Toril finalized the training schedule.


    With that in mind, I returned to Urda¡¯s lecture hall when classes began at nine and spent the next few hours meddling with ideas about how to take elemental manipulation to new heights while the lesson was passively absorbed in my Eternal Eye. After, I returned to my ¡®room¡¯ to practice mana manipulation for a bit before I set out to find Toril at lunchtime.


    It took me a while, but I eventually found him in the school¡¯s lobby; of all places. On the opposite side of the great set of doors that permitted entry to the place. Poised on a bench overlooking the vast Corvus Lake to the east. A melancholy gaze stained his face, strangely enough. He''d always been the phlegmatic type. Thus I stepped from the shadows with a different approach. ¡°What¡¯s on your mind, Toril?¡± I asked.


    ¡°When I first came to the Tower,¡± he said after a long moment. ¡°I used to sit here and think about my family. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware, Your Grace.¡± He turned over his shoulder to meet my eyes. ¡°Marquis Raiga Fulgum is my uncle; my father¡¯s brother. I bear my mother¡¯s surname.¡± He turned back to the lake. ¡°Irene O¡¯Connell-Fulgum is a Countess with a water affinity. She and my father sent me here when I was four years old. I assumed it was because of my unruly use of magic around her, that she sent me here. But after growing older. After hearing of the admission process from His Imperial Grace and serving you, I¡¯ve found myself thinking otherwise.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s probable that your admittance was decided shortly after your birth.¡± I nodded along. Then gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder. ¡°If you ever wish to visit them, just give the word.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Your Grace. But, I¡¯m fine.¡± He bowed in his seat, took a deep breath, and turned to me with eyes that radiated conviction. ¡°How may I serve Your Grace?¡±


    ¡°There are a few things I need you to do. First, I need you to finalize a training schedule and make the announcement at the end of today''s classes. Gather them on the 53rd floor and have them decide on what days they wish to train. Let Jaimess know if you need any materials.¡±


    I handed him a rolled-up scroll before dismissing myself with another pat on the shoulder. Then leaped back into the Shadowfell to find the other two. Which luckily didn¡¯t take long. As they were both on the guest floor, sharing a meal.


    I pulled up a chair and clasped my arms over the table at once. ¡°Toril will be making an announcement about training the students at the end of the day''s classes.¡±


    ¡°Are we to attend?¡± Jonet promptly asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I nodded. ¡°If you both will train the students or not depends on how they wish to proceed. But we¡¯ll worry about that later.¡± I waved a hand to the side. ¡°How do you both feel about the changes to your schedule?¡±


    ¡°I was a bit apprehensive about taking art classes.¡± Jaimess immediately beamed. ¡°I was surprised to learn that the arts are nothing like I thought. Before, I assumed that art required talent. And that drawing or painting without that talent was a fruitless endeavor. But after just a bit of practice, I realized that like many other things, drawing or painting was a skill that could be improved upon.¡±


    ¡°That is indeed the case with virtually everything in life.¡± I grinned. ¡°My intention is that you can bring your origami art to a new level. And you, Jonet?¡± I turned to her.


    ¡°Being taught by the Necro King is¡­ daunting.¡± She shuddered, causing a similar gesture to arise from Jaimess. ¡°But, my theater class is particularly exciting. The idea of stepping into the shoes of another and living the fantastical tales found in stories fascinates me.¡±


    ¡°Is that your dream?¡± I asked. ¡°To be a performer?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m unsure.¡± She squinted curiously at me. ¡°There¡¯s certainly a passion for it.¡± She slowly nodded. ¡°But; like you, I want to travel and experience the world for myself.¡±


    ¡°You have my word that you will do just that,¡± I assured her before shifting my gaze back to Jaimess. ¡°That goes for you as well. I¡¯ll put my all into helping you achieve or fulfill whatever ambitions, dreams, passions, or hobbies you have or will develop in the future. Just say the word.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m humbled by your benevolence, Your Grace.¡± Jaimess bowed in his seat. ¡°From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.¡±


    ¡°No need to thank me.¡± I quickly waved it aside. ¡°It¡¯s only fair since you all are helping me achieve my ambitions.¡±


    ¡°That is our job.¡± Jonet cheerfully chuckled.


    ¡°Regardless.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I want to know more about your past. After a bit of self-reflecting, I¡¯ve realized we¡¯ve spent all this time together, yet I still know almost nothing about the three of you as individuals.


    ¡°My background.¡± Jaimess leaned back in his seat with a sigh and stared up at the vaulted ceiling. ¡°I come from a family of commoners. My parents were bankers, so we lived better than most. They were already old when I was born though, yet they still spent nearly all of their time working. As such I never really had the time to get to know them. Then I got sent here.¡± He shrugged.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re not close to them?¡± I confirmed.


    ¡°Not really, no.¡± Jaimess shrugged again.


    ¡°Well.¡± Jonet broke in by leaning over the table. ¡°I was intended to be a servant like my aunt Ebbet and mother. I would¡¯ve stayed in that role for the rest of my life if it weren¡¯t for you changing my job, Your Grace. For that, I¡¯m eternally thankful.¡± She bowed to me in her seat. ¡°You have my undying loyalty, Your Grace.¡±


    ¡®Undying, huh?¡¯ I quickly wondered before acknowledging Jonet¡¯s pledge with a smiling nod. ¡°Thank you, Jonet. But then, that begs the question.¡± I paused, highlighting the distinct change in the atmosphere. ¡°I am; by birthright, a necromancer. So, if in the event of your deaths; would you want me to abstain from turning you undead, or not?¡±


    As expected, their faces grimly darkened while their heads morbidly hung from their shoulders.


    ¡°It¡¯s a tough question to ask.¡± I sighed, rising from the table. ¡°But it¡¯s a question that needs asking all the same. That said, I don¡¯t expect you to answer right away. I only want you to think about it. We won¡¯t be dying anytime soon. That''s what all this training is for.¡±


    ¡°Y- Yes, Your Grace.¡± Jaimess bowed.


    With a wave, I stepped off toward the shade elevators to make my last scheduled stop of the evening. The 52nd floor to check on the progress of my candidates.


    While many of them were elsewhere to be found, the ones present in the designated workshop seemed to be evenly split between the three projects I gave them. Scattered across the vacant workspaces were prototypes in various stages of development. Some had completed or half-drawn blueprints unfurled over the desks while others had a few pieces of materials neatly arranged and organized to be worked on at a later time. A few of them, however, were busy toiling away on nearly completed models. Including Edward, whose head snapped up from his desk the moment he saw me and eagerly bounded up to greet me, cradling something bound tightly in cloth.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad to see Your Grace.¡± He beamed.


    ¡°Edward.¡± I nodded before gesturing to the crude object in his hands. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±


    ¡°A model- uh, prototype.¡± He hurriedly bowed before correcting himself.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a day, and you already have a prototype?¡± I chuckled in disbelief. ¡°Have you even slept?¡±


    ¡°W- well.¡± He chuckled timidly. ¡°It¡¯s not as if I have all the time in the world, Your Grace. Besides.¡± He stammered. ¡°I find it difficult to sleep¡±


    ¡®An insomniac, huh?¡¯ I internally nodded in understanding. Then gave him the reassuring gesture of an open palm. ¡°You have around four years, so take your time. And don¡¯t overwork yourself.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Your Grace.¡± He quickly bowed. Then looked up at me with eyes full of relief. ¡°W- would you like to try it?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a design for Toril, not me.¡± I chuckled. ¡°You can have him try it if you wish. I last saw him in the lobby on the 22nd floor.¡±


    Without delay, he dismissively bowed before excitedly skipping off towards the shade elevators to find Toril. And I couldn''t help but look on in admiration. ¡®He¡¯s definitely a strange one.¡¯ I chuckled to myself. ¡®Let¡¯s hope the quality of his work is just as good as his drive.¡¯

 33 - Prototype

    Toril


    ***


    I was sure His Grace was under the wrong impression. While the admission process and my social standing most certainly had something to do with my coming here, I couldn¡¯t deny that it was also because of the unpleasantness my presence caused when my name was still Toril Fulgum.


    In the words of my father, I was a bad, unruly child with untamed magic. A boy who ran around the castle, shocking everything in sight. The polar opposite of Count Turok Fulgum, a man like the heart of a storm cloud; bellowing out a rolling thunder that commanded all who heard its roar to become great. With Storm Magic, my father was perfectly safe from my lightning arcing around everywhere; though displeased he still was. My mother, on the other hand, born with water magic, risked herself greatly just to be around me. As far as I was aware, The final straw came when I shocked her dearly.


    Nearly fatally, in fact.


    After that was a blur of tears and screams that lasted until I found myself boarded on the train bound for Corvus Tower, the name Toril O¡¯Connell stitched to my chest to serve as an eternal reminder of the sin I committed against my mother.


    Once that happened, I toiled. I worked tirelessly to master the unruly magic within myself and atone for mortally wounding my mother; however inadvertent that action may have been. As a result of my conviction, I made my way to the top of the class within weeks of the school year beginning. And before I knew it, I found myself boarding another train bound for a ferry to take me to Deap Ridge. It was half a year past my fifth birthday when I first met Amun. Now, I¡¯m a few months past ten. And for the first time since, I found myself thinking of my parents. Of what my father would think if he saw what I¡¯d become; contempt or pride. And of my mother, of the pain I was sure she¡¯d feel upon seeing me again: a searing heat racing through the branching scars marking her body. Strangely, however, there were no feelings to be found within myself; no matter how long I sat and pondered the subject. I felt no sorrow or hope, no anger or indifference even; towards them or even myself. There was only¡­ nostalgia, perhaps.


    Or perhaps not.


    In all honesty, I hardly remembered their faces or the sounds of their voices after all these years. ¡®So, what reason is there to see them again?¡¯ I asked myself. ¡®To rekindle painful memories? To revisit a past life? To apologize for something I¡¯m already reconciling through my actions?¡¯


    No.


    There was no need for such things, I decided. All that mattered was the present and the future. All that mattered, was to continue to grow as strong as possible and explore this vast realm with His Grace, Amun of Odissi. All that mattered was realizing this guild and empire. And so, I turned my attention away from the window and back to mentally arranging the vast 53rd floor into a suitable layout for training.


    Not long into it, however, I cursed under my breath as I was interrupted by an approaching Edward Pascal, cradling a large cloth-wrapped item in his hands like it was a baby. ¡°H- Hello, Toril.¡± He meekly bowed after stepping into range.


    ¡°Ed.¡± I quickly nodded to him before gesturing to the something in his arms. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s what His Grace instructed us to make. Or, one of the things.¡± He nervously chuckled before carefully unraveling it. ¡°Though His Grace didn¡¯t tell us how it works, it¡¯s clear that it¡¯s a gauntlet. And he told me it¡¯s intended for you. So.¡± He proudly held them out at arm''s length. Something that seemed a slight task for his scrawny build.


    ¡°Gauntlets, huh?¡± I tilted my head, eying them carefully as I took them in my hands for a close inspection.


    True enough, they were fitted exactly for me; a pair of somewhat standard gauntlets: fingerless leather gloves that¡¯d been braced on the forearms and backhands, with curved metal plates. On top of that, there was a mass of thin copper wires twisted together to make thick coils around the wrists. ¡°And you said you weren¡¯t told how they worked?¡± I asked, pulling the somewhat hefty gloves over my hands.


    ¡°That is correct.¡± Ed ruefully sighed.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± I hummed to myself, put the other glove under my arm, and reached into my satchel for the note Amun left me with. Surely, at the very bottom in the smallest legible print, Amun wrote a postscript.


    ¡®P.S. The tinkerers are making a piece of equipment for you. Channel electricity through the coils, the gauntlets should do the rest.¡¯


    ¡°Stand back,¡± I barked to Ed as I stuffed the note in my satchel.


    As quickly as I said it, he pranced off in the opposite direction as I took to the center of the floor and prepared myself. After only the slightest bit of mana was pulled from my core, down my arm, and guided through the wires, the energy seemed to latch onto something; like it was grasped by an invisible force that ripped more energy from my core and added it to the stream circulating throughout the gauntlets. I was eventually forced to cut off the flow from my well entirely. Yet the energy remained flowing through the gauntlets. Cycling without discharge a single spark of lightning- or rather, electricity. There was only a throbbing hum vibrating the air itself coupled with the distant feeling of heat around my wrists. And little else.


    Frustrated, I turned my scowl to Edward. ¡°Is that it?¡±


    ¡°Again.¡± He carefully approached with an impatient sigh. ¡°Don¡¯t know how it works. But.¡± He halted at arm''s length to drop down to a knee. ¡°This sound. It¡¯s like the tracks at the station, is it not?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t even reply before Ed pulled a hammer from his belt and cautiously held it out to my arm. And within the blink of an eye, the hammer was snatched from his hand and came to a violent, reverberating halt against the side of my wrist.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s a magnet!¡± Ed abruptly reached out to grasp the handle and pry it from my arm.


    He struggled for a bit before I canceled the spell, then nearly toppled after ripping the thing loose. Once he clumsily regained his footing, Ed focused on the hammer to cautiously tap at it like a smith testing the hardness of a blade. And with both a soft chuckle and a wide grin, he confidently grasped the hammerhead in one hand and pulled a few nails from his pocket with the other. I watched with both curiosity and bemusement at both the nails sticking to the gauntlets as if they were glued to the surface at odd angles; and at Ed¡¯s reaction to his gear working as intended. It was like seeing a kid fawn over a new toy- a toy their parent was equally fascinated with.


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    So much so that they planned to play with it themselves once their child went to bed.


    I almost felt bad interrupting him with a nudge so I could ask. ¡°Are you coming to training?¡±


    His head snapped back as if he forgot I was even here. More so, as if I startled him. ¡°T- training?¡± he stammered.


    ¡°In about¡­ ten minutes, actually.¡± I nodded after checking the time. Then gestured to the colossal amphitheater far off to the western wall. ¡°The students will be gathering here for the announcement. In short, his Grace has tasked me with teaching his theories on Elemental Manipulation and Elemental Fusion until we depart for Deap Ridge.¡±


    ¡°Elemental¡­ fusion.¡± His eyes trailed off as if they were lost while he slowly repeated the words.


    ¡°I know you have things to do, but.¡± I continued, snapping his attention back to me. ¡°I¡¯d highly advise you to come.¡±


    ¡®You¡¯ll have to learn it eventually.¡¯


    ---


    Following the little demonstration, I made some suggestions for improvements before Ed wandered off to a nearby tree to take out some papers and begin scribbling away. Shortly thereafter, students began arriving in their groups and cliques. Followed shortly after by Jaimess and Jonet arriving in a pair. As expected, Amun was nowhere to be found. Or rather, was probably observing from the shadows; if he wasn¡¯t off experimenting or writing or doing whatever else he chose to do in his free time, that is. I found it likely he¡¯d appear from some obscure place at just the right time. Though something in the back of my mind was telling me that wasn¡¯t the case.


    Once the clusters of bodies stopped streaming in from the entrance, I took to the stage of the colossal amphitheater alongside my two companions and stared in awe at the literal sea of bodies spread out before me. Evidently, it elicited some kind of reaction out of me. As Jaimess came creeping behind me to whisper. ¡°I can handle the speech if you like, Toril.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I quickly shook my head. ¡°Like you will one day address your subordinates, I need practice issuing orders and taking command.¡± Jaimess frowned yet gave a nod of approval before silently bowing backstage. I, in turn, nodded a silent thanks before settling myself behind the podium. Causing me to inadvertently breathe into the amplifying stone like a creep.


    ¡°Er- Good evening, everyone.¡± I tried to swallow through the bug that seemed to crawl down my throat while I was staring at the mural of mockingly expectant faces before me. Then my heart grew eerily still. So I began looking elsewhere while I talked; at the walls, the ceiling, the windows, and the vast expanses beyond them. ¡°His Grace, Grand Duke Amun of Odissi, has deemed it necessary that¡­ we train you. During our stay in Corvus Tower.¡± I paused to again pivot my gaze elsewhere. ¡°We are gathered here today, to settle on a schedule. And to choose what subjects you all wish to study. As of now, we¡¯ve been ordered to teach His Grace¡¯s theories on¡­ elemental manipulation. And elemental fusion. Everything else.¡± I dry swallowed and turned once more. ¡°Is to be decided by all of you. So¡­ I¡¯m open to suggestions.¡±


    There was a long pause of silence that stretched on while I desperately fought against the impulse to peer into the crowd. With my lungs now dry of words, the constant pounding in my chest seemed to be amplified by the enchanted stone before me. Thumping the very walls with the madness-inducing tempo of my heart.


    ¡°I want His Grace to train us liked he trained you!¡± An indiscriminate voice in the crowd shouted.


    ¡®His Grace has better things to do, I¡¯m sure.¡¯ I internally chided.


    Yet that voice was followed by another. ¡°What¡¯s elemental fusion?¡±


    ¡®You¡¯ll find out if you come.¡¯ I sighed.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we start now?¡±


    ¡®No!¡¯


    ¡°Yeah!¡± Someone else cried. ¡°We¡¯re already here!¡±


    ¡®That comes later.¡¯


    ¡°At least give us a demonstration!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not here for demonstrations!¡± My eyes snapped to the crowd. ¡°If you want a glimpse of what those theories are then come to the first training day! We. Are here. To make a schedule!¡±


    As a consequence of both my frustration and sudden outburst, a bit of mana leaked from my well. Resulting in a series of cackling sparks and thunderous booms that inadvertently and menacingly punctuated my words to an outstanding effect.


    ¡°Now.¡± I calmly sighed, suddenly relaxed from both a sense of catharsis and the noticeable shift in the crowd¡¯s demeanor. ¡°We¡¯ll handle this in the simplest way I can think of. If you wish to train on the weekends for the full day, produce a flame in your hand and raise it overhead.¡±


    I waited a few seconds for any stragglers to decide and made a mental note of the scattered amber lights glowing within the stands.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I nodded, signaling the flames to die out. ¡°If you wish to train on the weekdays after class, raise your flame.¡±


    Again, I waited a few moments. But even then, only a literal handful of flames appeared in the stands; though a few of them were larger than the others, denoting a group of like-minded individuals in close proximity to one another.


    ¡°If you wish to train after class and on the weekends, raise your flame.¡± In an instant, the entire space before me lit up with a blinding auburn glow. Almost as if the stands themselves were made of a singular, massive light enchantment that suddenly activated. Forcing me to look away. ¡°Well, that¡¯s settled.¡± I sighed relief into the stone once the glow died down. Then leaned over the podium to study the natural elegance of the western coastline beyond the window. ¡°Moving on, we¡¯re to decide on a training regimen. As His Imperial Majesty declared, His Grace has trained us extensively. Every day for the past five years. Our focuses were physical development, elemental manipulation, spellcraft, and endless bouts of fighting.


    ¡°If you all want to train as we did.¡± I pivoted over the podium once again to study the fine architecture of the opposing wall. ¡°It will require you all to devote five hours of your day to training. Just to clarify.¡± I paused to chance a glance at the crowd. ¡°That is from just after three in the afternoon to eight in the evening. Ten out of ten days a week. Thirteen months a year. For the next four years. If you still agree to those terms, then raise your flames once more.¡±


    As I half expected, I was once again subjected to the blinding light of the students demonstrating their willingness to train. I was aware that their schedules weren¡¯t as loaded due to them graduating from their formal classes. Yet I was more than certain of them knowing not what they were getting themselves into.


    ¡°Very well.¡± I nodded, chuckling to myself as I pivoted once again to stare at the open fields stretching past the bleachers to my front. ¡°Allow us time to¡­ mold this place into a training environment. We will meet here the day after tomorrow, after class. And keep in mind that this training is voluntary.¡± I abruptly added. Then gave a closing nod. ¡°Thank you all for your time.¡±


    With a deep breath and another bow, I retreated from the stage and turned to see a smirking Jaimess and a giggling Jonet sitting at the rear of the stage.


    ¡°Great job. Gyahahaha!¡± Jaimess laughed. Then braced his hands up to put brackets around his words as he mockingly said. "We are gathered here today.'' Gyahahaha! I began to think someone was to get buried!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, go fuck yourself, Jaimess.¡± I sneered. Then gestured towards the fields past the dissipating stands. ¡°Are you two going help me landscape, or are you just going to stand there and make jokes?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have much of a choice. So, a little bit of both.¡± Jonet approached with a shrug. Followed by a reassuring nudge on the shoulder. ¡°What did you have in mind?¡±


    ¡°I have the training regimen more or less sorted out.¡± I sighed in an attempt to push my annoyance aside. ¡°But, I¡¯ll need His Grace¡¯s help to make it a reality. Besides that.¡± I paused to pull out the slip of paper Amun had given me. ¡°He gave me instructions to make¡­ this.¡±


    Jaimess perked up at once and snatched the paper from me before I could explain further. Then gave the two of us a curious look from under his brow after studying it in its entirety. ¡°Well then.¡± He grinned with maddened intensity. ¡°Let¡¯s get started.¡±

 34 - Playing With Poison

    While Toril was briefing the students, I was on the shores of Corvus Lake, putting a couple of theories to the test.


    Namely, I tried and tried again to increase water tension with water manipulation with the aim to create a ''solid'' surface of liquid on which to stand. No matter how much I tried, though, my feet simply slipped under the surface the moment I made contact. What would have normally been a death sentence, however, turned into quite the show, as my sopping clothes would begin to dry the moment I breached the surface. And while the cold was still there, per se, it was balmy in comparison to my delve into the Under; cold like Antarctica.


    My insanity continued for more than I cared to admit until I tried for a different type of insanity by trying the same with air. Though as I fully expected, walking on water or stepping on air was an impossibility with elemental manipulation alone. Not that I thought it was possible in the first place. But I simply needed to confirm the skill¡¯s limitations with my own eyes. And once I had, I fell into a sort of trance practicing mana manipulation until the sun began to set. Wherein a royal brute of a bearded man appeared from the shade of the tree and lunged, swinging wide.


    With the distance between us and my relatively pristine condition, it was easy to draw my weapons and seamlessly duck under his hook with a swift thrust aimed straight at his heart. If he even had one


    ¡°Rejoice, Amun.¡± Grandpa Lich grinned, trailing that uncanny gray smoke from his mouth in lieu of blood. ¡°You can soon rid yourself of those sticks of yours. And this too.¡± He grunted out a chuckle as he withdrew the blade, then effortlessly tossed both it and me aside like loose change. ¡°You and your subordinates will be accompanying me to Odissi this weekend. It is time you receive your royal arms and armor.¡±


    ¡®Armor?¡¯ I internally cringed as scrambled in the snow to my feet. Even in the youth of my past life, I hated wearing body armor. Sure, it could stop a round from making a mess of my insides- once- but the lack of mobility that came with it was something that never sat right with me in the back of my mind. And though that issue had been solved in the later parts of my life, recreating such things in this world required both infrastructure and magic that I wasn¡¯t even close to accessing at the moment. Leaving me with quite a dilemma.


    ¡®We¡¯ll burn that bridge when we get to it, I suppose.¡¯ I shrugged the matter aside, then lunged at my forefather.


    We fought much the same as we had before over the last couple of days. Unceasingly until midnight caws echoed from Corvus Tower, wherein we''d relocate to Grandpa Lich''s expansive ¡®office¡¯ so I could mend his wounds and begin my nightly classes. Which, as of yet, consisted of lectures on death and souls and undead and devils. Today, however...


    ¡°Necromancy.¡± Grandpa Lich peered deep into my eyes after swinging his feet off the stone slab. ¡°What do you know of it?¡±


    ¡°Our ancestors have given us a direct connection to both the Underworld and the We are seen as sovereigns of death. This gives us the means to commune with the dead and raise them from their graves. If we kill and raise them, the body will be sent to the Under, allowing their souls to return to the Mortal Plane through their shadow; thus granting them an immortal body of darkness.¡±


    Grandpa Lich nodded along until my words were spent. Then he began guiding me to another module in his vast office. "While true, there are other forms of necromancy that many seem to ignore. Death Magic; or Necromancy, revolves around all things affiliated with death.¡± He paused at the center of another spacious module. One furnished with a relatively small alchemy desk surrounded by material display cases. They were nearly as wide as the supports comprising the ''corners'' and nearly two stories high. Yet they contained no traditional elements; or even magical ones, they held everything from fangs and vials of greenish liquids to live plants and animals.


    ¡°Poison. Disease. Decay. Curses. Hexes, or freakishly accidental deaths caused by ¡®bad luck.¡¯ Nearly anything that can cause death and everything that happens to both the soul and flesh of the departed, all exist beneath the umbrella of necromancy. We will be going down the line until your grimoire is suitably filled with spells.¡± He paused to pull out a diamond-shaped vial from his pocket and held it between our eyes, hardly occluding a mildly sadistic grin. ¡°Starting with poison.¡±


    ¡°Does our necromancy give us immunity to poisons and toxins?¡± I asked, scanning the cases surrounding me with mild trepidation. I didn''t want to suffer through the screaming shits, after all.


    ¡°A resistance.¡± He subtly shrugged. ¡°You will feel the effects but it will not kill you. Today, you will be learning the Poison Mimicry spell.¡± He held out the vial for me to grab. It looked more like a fang of pink, transparent bone that was as large as both my hands put side-by-side. Laced with gilded accents along the long axes to anchor points for a chain that reached up to an intricate, yet simple lock at the top.


    ¡°Fill your finger with death mana and dip it inside. Or you can taste it if you like.¡± Grandpa Lich huffed.


    I did as instructed and pulled a bit of death mana into my finger before dipping it inside, then brought it up to my mouth for a taste. Quite unsurprisingly, it tasted like¡­ water. Completely tasteless. Yet Grandpa Lich made a grim rumble from deep in his belly, and I turned to see a maniacal grin spread across his face.


    ¡°That was wyvern venom.¡± He sneered.


    My brows perked up at once before I turned back to him, blinking madly in surprise. ¡°Like... a dragon?¡±


    ¡°Close but not quite.¡± He quickly said as if to dismiss the talk of dragons before asking. ¡°How do you feel?¡± In the next breath.


    ¡°I feel¡­¡± I paused to focus on my body, my heart rate, and my senses before looking back to Grandpa Lich, shaking my head. ¡°Nothing. Physically, at least. But.¡± I gestured to the finger I¡¯d brought to my lips. Specifically, to the death mana imbued within it, changed in both color and phase to resemble the colorless liquid held within the flask, dripping from my finger to disperse in a thick carpet of white smoke across the stone tiles.


    ¡°Nothing!?¡± Grandpa spat, completely brushing aside my success at the spell. Then brought his hand up to scratch himself with the fang in the very next breath. His veins began to darken from the point almost immediately. Yet he sighed in mass relief and turned to face me as if nothing happened at all. ¡°I keep forgetting you¡¯re hardly human.¡±


    ¡°That makes two of us,¡± I snorted.


    ¡°You¡¯ll spend as long as it takes to sample these poisons and toxins.¡± He gestured to the sole seat in the space and the massive cases surrounding it. ¡°Some will require you to ingest them, others simply need a bit of contact or inhalation. Sample them all. Once you¡¯re done, we¡¯ll move on to the next spell.¡±


    With a nod, I approached the case and used my Umbral Hand to open the first glass door in the top left of the structure to begin. ¡°Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?¡± I asked after sampling a bit of arsenic.


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    ¡°At this point, I¡¯d be concerned if you weren¡¯t asking questions.¡± He chuckled, settling against a nearby pillar. ¡°What¡¯s on your mind?¡±


    ¡°About the nature of grimoires.¡± I simply answered. ¡°You once told me they¡¯ll allow my spells to evolve over time. What did you mean by that?¡±


    ¡°You can consider your grimoire as a visual representation of your abilities. As for spell evolution.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Spells will become more powerful while requiring less mana as you gain proficiency in them. Such things can translate to a larger radius, aftereffects, and rarely, effects that were previously unestablished.¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡± I asked, chewing through some Belladonna.


    He shrugged again. "Well, my first time was with my doppelgangers. Essentially, they are much like Roger.¡± He gestured to my shadow with visible distaste. ¡°One clone could become two. But no more.¡±


    ¡°Interesting.¡± I nodded before downing a cocktail of snake venom. Then summoned my grimoire. ¡°And only I can see this? Even if I wanted someone else to?¡±


    ¡°There is a way.¡± He vaguely nodded. ¡°But it has costs.¡±


    ¡°Costs that you¡¯re not going to explain to me, are you?¡± I sighed.


    ¡°Not yet!¡± He boisterously bellowed as he so often did before regaining his composure just a few seconds later. ¡°Take some time to look it over while you sample.¡± He threw his chin at the desk. ¡°As it seems you haven¡¯t even done that.¡±


    I winced in both annoyance and disgust as I took a bit of cyanide and opened the abyssal, white-lined cover page of my spell book. It was true that I¡¯d rarely checked my grimoire since my first study of it all those years ago. Naturally, the pages had since been filled with specific details of each spell I currently held in my arsenal; though it was much more than mere words ¡®printed¡¯ on the pages. Fascinatingly enough, each page was dedicated to a single spell and contained diagrams for body movements, summaries of the effects, step-by-step instructions on how to cast the spell from scratch, and even stats on my progression with some spells.


    Amun: Initiate Sorcerer.


    Half-Drow/Human Male


    Hereditary Affinity: Void.


    Mana Well: 13th Grade, Diamond.


    Pore Radius: .74


    *Darkness*


    [Shadow Pocket] - Is the gelid, infinite subspace found within your natural shadow. Used for storing inanimate objects, undead, or; at the cost of mana, living beings.


    [Shadow Step] - Allows you to step through the Shadowfell and appear through a natural or magical shadow in the physical realm.


    [Shadow Bullet] - Is the result of a mass of shadow mana that¡¯s been gathered in the fingertips and flicked at the target. Blinding and deafening them with the cold embrace of darkness, often invoking a state of fear to effectively stun them.


    [Shadow Cloud] - Is a released mass of condensed shadow mana, creating a domain of magical darkness that cannot be seen through; even by someone possessing darkvision. The domain itself imbues the same effects of the Shadow Bullet into anyone standing within its radius. Largest spread radius - 65 meters.


    [Doppelganger] - Is an umbral clone, spawned from mana being poured into the shadow of a living being and the will of the caster. Birthing a duplicate from between the planes that are capable of both mimicry and independent action. Doppelgangers Spawned: 4.


    [Solid Shade] - Is the result of umbral energy being condensed to a degree to induce phase change, creating a semi-amorphous, rubberized solid that inflicts cold damage and blinding effects on a target.


    [Wraith Form] - Is the infusion of shadow mana throughout the entire body while outside of direct light. Allowing you to assume a ghostly or gaseous form that renders you invisible to the naked eye; permitting you passage through solid objects at a slow pace.


    [Semi-Wraith Form.] - Is the infusion of shadow mana throughout the body while within direct light. Rendering you visible to the naked eye while retaining your spectral form and phasing ability at the expense of mana.


    [Shadow Scry] - Is the art of peering the eyes and ears through shade or a cast shadow to eavesdrop on another.


    [Flames of Moil] - Are cold, umbral flames created by infecting fire with shadow mana, snuffing out the heat and light with radiant cold and darkness.


    [Black Bones] - Is the infusion of shadow mana into the skeletal system. Giving your bones the qualities of Solid Shade that yields a far denser and more flexible material when compared to bone.


    [Black Armor] - Is the infusion of shadow mana into the skin, resulting in an aura that gives the flesh the same pliable properties of solid shade, negating blunt damage.


    [Black Thew] - Is the infusion of shadow mana into the muscles, allowing the buildup of lactic acid and other toxins to be banished to the Shadowfell.


    [Shade Tendril] - Is a dexterous invertebrate arm of solid shade that remains placed at an anchor point, but is capable of stretching up to ten meters in any direction.


    [Umbral Hand] - Is a less-malleable mass of solid shade, incapable of elongation, but dense enough to inflict blunt force trauma.


    *Death*


    [Fearful Aura] - Is the passive effect of death mana being pulled from your affinity core. Eliciting a primal fear from anyone who feels its energy.


    [Death Bullet] - Is an aggregation of death energy that¡¯s been gathered at the fingertips and flicked at a target, causing immediate death.


    [Death Cloud] - Is a dispersed mass of death energy, forming a domain of necrotic energy that saps life from anyone within its radius.


    [Communion] - Is the act of sitting on your Necro Throne and summoning a soul from the Underworld for conversation.


    [Leech Hand] - Is the result of death energy infused into the skin, creating an armor that saps the life force of anyone who comes into contact with it.


    [False Life] - Is when the life energy gained from Leech Hand is used to heal oneself or another.


    [False Strength] - is when the life energy of Leech Hand is used to increase one''s strength, speed, or stamina.


    [Poison Mimicry] - Is to analyze and recreate the effects of a poison or toxin on a human body with death mana. Samples analyzed - 32.


    *Void*


    [Void Bullet] - Is a mass of void mana concentrated in the fingertips and flicked at a target. Completely obliterating anything it comes into contact with.


    [Void Domain] - Is a dispersed mass of void that annihilates everything within its radius.


    [Void Bit] - Is a beam of shaped void mana that drills through everything in its path effortlessly.


    [Void Scythe] - Is a sweeping arc of void mana that can cut through anything in its path.


    [Void Shield] - Is a solid ¡®plate¡¯ of void mana that negates all that touches it; be it physical or magical attacks.


    ¡°I assume this is how we; as you said, adopt the power of our ancestors?¡± I looked at Grandpa Lich after disappearing my grimoire. But he only looked at me in a way that hardly gave away the answer; if at all. So I wordlessly turned my attention to sampling the rest of the poisons with a quickened pace.


    ***


    ¡°I¡¯m done,¡± I called over my shoulder to my Grandfather, who¡¯d disappeared to somewhere in the office a few hours prior.


    He appeared from behind the shelves not a second later and approached the front of his desk, the gilded accents of his twin-tailed coat shining brightly in the indirect glow of the coming dawn. ¡°There¡¯s not yet an opportunity for you to practice these spells, but I¡¯ll tell you anyway; about the Contagion Spell. It is to spread the mimicked poison from your breath or touch and have it passed along through others in a similar manner.¡±


    ¡°Like spreading disease." I nodded in understanding. To which my Grandfather quickly nodded in both pride and affirmation.


    ¡°Aye. Which is our next lesson. So get some rest, Amun. You have a long day ahead of you, no?¡±


    ¡°That I do.¡± I quickly bowed out of my seat. Then assumed the Wraith Form to phase over to my ¡®room.¡¯

 35 - Training Day

    After a good night''s meditation followed by a hearty breakfast, I attended Urda¡¯s alchemy class to learn of a rather fascinating potion that greatly increased one''s lung capacity, allowing for hours of underwater exploration with a single dose. Though we didn¡¯t make it, the recipe required only a relatively common type of seaweed paired with the gills of an aquatic creature. Both were to be mixed and processed through several steps before the resulting syrup was simmered for twelve hours, turning it into a pale blue concoction that would last up to six hours.


    Following class, I spent lunch making my rounds. The library, the tinkerers, then to the 53rd floor; wherein I found Toril and the other two toiling with the landscape in the furthest reaches of the vast enclosure. Their construction project was going along quite nicely, I had to admit. Though the reason for my visit revolved around other things and so I quickly got down to business.


    ¡°How did the briefing go, Toril?¡± Though I¡¯d long since heard the students¡¯ ramblings in the halls, it was necessary for me to gauge Toril¡¯s feelings on the matter for myself.


    Though his tall posture belied his true feelings, they were made apparent by his head dipping to the side as he muttered. ¡°It¡­ it could¡¯ve gone better.¡±


    ¡°Just remember that with failure, comes an opportunity to learn,¡± I told him. ¡°It is better to struggle now, in training, compared to in the future, when lives are on the line. Practice makes perfect, Toril.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Grace.¡± He resignedly bowed. Then brought his cobalt-blue eyes back up to mine with newfound resolve. ¡°Forgive my presumptuousness, but I¡¯ll be needing your help to accomplish this task, Your Grace.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡± I quickly waved the matter aside. ¡°I planned to be in attendance from the start. But only to supervise and assist.¡±


    ¡°Understood. ¡°He bowed. ¡°I plan to break up the students into rotating groups. One hour per station. and have them rotate between stations on one-hour rotations. We begin tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°I assume you¡¯ll be needing some doppelgangers, then?¡± I assumed, to which Toril nodded in approval. ¡°Very well, I¡¯ll see you then.¡±


    Waving over my shoulder, I disappeared through the shadows to continue my usual schedule of practicing spells and tinkering with raw mana until the sun set below the Mortal Plane, prompting the countless death matches with Grandpa Lich to begin. With the passing of midnight, I once again followed him into his office for a closing lesson on necrotic poison before he began his lectures on necrotic decay- the rot that could be made to mimic anything from spores and roots to gas and liquid. Though much like the night prior, we were in an unsuitable environment to practice such techniques; and so they remained as mere theories or concepts to be practiced at a later time.


    Much the same routine continued today: I woke up, attended Urda¡¯s class for part two of the Rich Lungs Potion, checked on my vassals during lunchtime, then lost myself in training for the rest of the day. The only difference was that my therapeutic practice ceased with the caws of the bell. Wherein I retreated to my ¡®room¡¯ to eat and freshen up before descending to the 53rd floor to find drastic changes. An array of pillars and waist-high walls broke up the space into modules no less than a hundred meters to each side. Roughly a hundred twenty meters of open space stretched between them- the stations, set in a star pattern around a stone dais and filled with around two company''s worth of students, lying or sitting or standing idly. Meanwhile, my three vassals muttered amongst themselves atop the dais.


    With my appearing from above in the form of a Semi-Wraith, each and every head craned or turned to give me its undivided attention. Some stared in awe at the sight, others, amusingly looked on in fear. I on the other hand, wordlessly took on my physical form before my kneeling vassals and quickly told them to rise from such a demeaning position. Then, I turned to face the sea of students, asking. ¡°How many are here?¡±


    ¡°Five-hundred-fifty-six.¡± Came Toril¡¯s blunt reply. ¡°One-hundred-eleven per station. Give or take.¡±


    I slowly turned to him, brows raised in disbelief as I asked. ¡°All of them are here?¡±


    Toril nodded solemnly and silently in shared disbelief. Or more likely as if he were daunted by the difficulty of the task I gave him. Though I couldn¡¯t exactly blame him. I was- without a doubt, throwing him to the wolves, for it was one of the simplest and most efficient teaching methods in existence. Sink or swim. Trial by fire. The number of idioms used to describe it proved as much. Cruel as it may seem to some. Nyctophobia could be cured by locking someone or oneself in a dark closet; many learned to swim by being thrown in the water by someone older than them; and most commonly of all, kids are thrown into the literal wolves den and are forced to learn how to socialize on top of absorbing lesson after lesson in their school lives.


    Just like Grandpa Lich threw me before the students just a few days ago, I''ll do the same to Toril; and to the others as well. And like the countless kind-hearted sadists who came before, I¡¯d be there to stand watch and aid them through their struggles. All for the sake of them and their potential. A potential that needed to be reached by the time we graduated from the academy. For there were no brakes on this train.


    The task I now had, however, seemed similarly daunting: 556 students; 556 doppelgangers.


    In my 10 years of living the life, I¡¯ve only ever spawned four of them. From memory, spawning three at the same time required almost no mana at all. Like a single grain of sand compared to the countless galaxies, stars, planets, and moons I saw in Telin''s hand. An insignificant shard off the mass that was my mana well. I was fully aware that my well was not only of the highest density but also abnormally large for a human. How that compared to the average or what that meant in terms of power was currently beyond me, but I at least felt that spawning this many doppelgangers at once would be a fairly accurate measure to gauge just how powerful I truly was.


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    I took a moment to study the students surrounding me before I withdrew any mana. With the segregated floors of the school facing the western coast, the sun¡¯s rays came in through the windows at an off angle, indirectly illuminating the voluminous space in tandem with the enchantments embedded into the ceiling. Leaving a twilight-esque environment that beautifully met the conditions for the Wraith Forms. Yet it made horrendous conditions for a small battalion of shadows. Thus I ordered over my shoulder. ¡°Give me light."


    Immediately, Toril raised both arms high and produced a roaring torch that nearly licked the ceiling, splaying the hundreds of anxious and expectant faces in harsh light. Consequently, I began focusing on the many shadows flickering across the ground and started withdrawing mana. Like oceanic waves chipping away the coast that was my mana well, shards of the crystalline energy broke off and sublimed into the rushing stream of energy. Into my core, it funneled. From the other side, it emerged as an umbral river gushing up and out of my eyes to settle within the umbral pits cast by Toril¡¯s light. Only after they darkened and began amassing into a solid shape did I avert my gaze elsewhere. Yet shard after shard of mana broke off from my well and collapsed towards my affinity core until the number of bodies in the room had veritably doubled.


    Much to my dismay, however, only a fraction of mana had been lost from my reserves. If I had to estimate, the mass spawn required maybe¡­ not even 1/200th of my total mana capacity. Which meant that it¡¯d be a long time before I could test the full extent of my power.


    Lest I wished to impose a day of darkness on the Empire.


    Or kill every living thing in Deapou.


    Or send the entire island to the void.


    Frustratingly enough.


    With a now soured mood, I gave a wave over my shoulder to Toril. Signaling for him to take over while I floated overhead to observe.


    He took the center with little hesitation, and after a quick briefing, the students began. Essentially, the briefing was to say their combat training would be indirectly supervised. With the doppelgangers in place, shamming would be virtually impossible. Spell development would be much the same, with the exception being that the students born without an affinity core were essentially allowed to train in whatever they so pleased. That left the other three stations to be instructed by each of my vassals. Who each quickly got to work corralling the students.


    Within the passing hours, I unsurprisingly realized that the vast majority of them were absolutely awful at elemental manipulation. Though a few had an innate knack for it, Grandpa Lich was a lousy teacher. More so, it seemed some of his teachers were as well; Urda aside. Toril, on the other hand, was doing remarkably well with teaching them. Though he seemed to grow visibly frustrated whenever a student just wasn¡¯t getting it. The sparring sessions went far better, however. Though I couldn¡¯t observe much due to my doppelgangers¡¯ constant assault, many of the students were holding their own against their umbral selves. Even after they picked up their training weapons.


    Following that, the physical training station was rather fascinating. Not by the wide range of physical fitness levels the students displayed, but by Jaimess¡¯ ¡®lead by example¡¯ method of teaching. Each exercise was not only properly demonstrated and spot-corrected, but Jaimess would also complete each exercise alongside each and every group. If only for fun. Much to my amusement, the fifth and final station was both a mystery and an object of fascination for many students. Naturally, most of each hour was spent with Jonet explaining the obstacles presented before them and how to properly traverse them. As expected, they were as clumsy as anyone running an obstacle course for the first time. So much so, that I lost count of how many students tripped in the raised tire-like pits or burned their hands on the rope climb. There had to be dozens of them who were caught heaving for breath under the low crawl wires or repeatedly failing to vault over low walls and rails.


    What was unexpected, however, was Jonet¡¯s smirk of satisfaction at watching the students struggle. More than once I caught her with a pleasurable grin as she stared at the students climbing Jacob¡¯s Ladder; a building-sized ladder with rungs increasingly spaced apart in a direct proportion to a rise in height. Looking at them all fail and thinking of them all seamlessly running the course in record times birthed within me the desire to run the course myself. Though the sea of eyes still somewhat focused on me and the many types of magic being flung about in the last station made me think otherwise. There were the many types of magic that I expected to see: standard or more complex elemental affinities like fire or obsidian; as well as more specific affinities like string or ash or even wax.


    Naturally; or not, looking at them go made me start thinking about my own spells. Since I was still struggling with developing new ones, I¡¯d been devoting most of my training time to advancing my proficiency in my known spells in the hopes that one of them would evolve. Or if not that, I hoped becoming more practiced with the mana around me would give me some insight. While I had many theories on how to apply my dormant cores, I practically had no spells for both death and void magic. After a little self-reflection, however, I realized I¡¯d been thinking of my affinities in the same way as elemental manipulation. Where it was about guiding the elements into doing what they¡¯d naturally do on their own. Thus bringing about the linear nature of my spells. They did what they were meant to do. Blind. Kill. Destroy. Nothing more.


    What both the literal definition and my most-used spell suggested, however, was that magic allowed the force in question to do the impossible. Which meant my avenues of thinking were simply too narrow.


    In other words, I was magically ignorant.


    Operating under such assumptions, I began to ponder on a spell similar to Leech Hand, only the intent would be to have it drain mana instead of vitality or stamina; though I was confident that such line of thinking was simply me reaching for long-dead stars. However, that did bring to light something I¡¯ve been overlooking this entire time: my lack of spells cast from raw mana. As a half-drow, I was in tune with the energy in a way that no other human could ever hope to achieve. And according to the words of my mother, I could directly cast with the stuff. What that entailed or how that even looked was beyond me. But I assumed it was the first or perhaps second step in one day learning how to mana forge. On top of that were the mysteries of how to raise undead and how the anomaly that was void magic could be applied. As far as I knew, the void completely destroyed everything it touched; much like Grandpa Lich stated years ago. But if was anything like the immense voids found throughout the cosmos, I was certain it''d take considerable time to figure out how that related to my magic.


    And then, there was the matter of my dreams. The dragon of darkness that swallowed the stars.


    In all, I had only a few basic attack and defense spells in my grimoire and naught a clue as to how to unlock the full potential of my magic. Worse, I had naught an option to find said potential unless I toiled and trained and tested to an obsessive- a maddened degree. I needed to learn more. To do more. Thus I found a quiet place on the guest floor to search and search and search until the sun set below the Mortal Plane. At which time I moved up to my Grandfather¡¯s office to train the night away in earnest.

 36 - Flight Training

    After only three days of after-class training, a sudden change came about in the halls'' ambiance in the halls. The students had long since been structured and disciplined. Of that, I was sure; their one outburst after I made my intentions known to them notwithstanding. Now, however, there was an undeniable air of respect they openly displayed to each other. Even the weaker bookworms were shown respect by the more attractive or popular or powerful students who used to look down on them. A display of respect; I noticed, that was starkly similar to the way their attitudes changed towards my vassals after the challenge I imposed on them.


    The change was particularly notable whenever Toril was present. He already had a reputation of being the strongest in the class from years ago and maintained that title today. His falling into the groove of leadership seemed to synergize perfectly with his clout, working to form a deep connection between him and the rest of the class. In less than a tenday, Toril O¡¯Connell went from being seen as a rival to envy; to being viewed as a sort of big brother. Though that wasn¡¯t to say my other vassals weren¡¯t much the same.


    Unlike the days following my arrival, most of the 6th Years¡¯ domain was eerily empty during lunchtime. Leaving an invasive feeling of loneliness to wash over me as I drifted through the floors. Instead, nearly the entire class was located on the 53rd floor, sparring against one another, running the O-course, or attempting to jump the gun and mimic the few instances of elemental fusion they¡¯d been shown to date.


    ¡°I see the training has gone well.¡± I grinned at Toril and the others as I appeared from the shade near our dining area to settle into a seat across from them.


    ¡°Very.¡± Toril proudly nodded. ¡°They are to continue their training in combat and elemental practice until the weakest person is up to standard. Then, we¡¯ll move on to fusion.¡±


    ¡°An efficient plan.¡± I nodded, then evenly distributed my attention to the rest of them. ¡°Perhaps tomorrow or even tonight, my Great-Grandfather will take us to Odissi to acquire some arms and¡­ armor.¡± I sighed. ¡°Now, I¡¯m certain it¡¯s already the case, but be aware that I¡¯ll put my all into acquiring the best equipment possible for the lot of you. I¡¯ll buy them myself if I have to.¡±


    ¡°Surely, Your Grace, that isn¡¯t necessary.¡± Jaimess humbly shook his head. ¡°We have more than enough to-¡±


    ¡°But it is.¡± I retorted, forcing him back in his seat. ¡°Being knowledgeable and physically capable is only half of the equation. In the same way that a smith can¡¯t forge a weapon without an anvil and hammer, you all need proper tools for your jobs.¡±


    Jonet placed her hand on the table in front of Jaimess before regally leaning towards me, smiling as she shushed him. ¡°We understand, Your Grace.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± I reclined back into my seat. ¡° Now tell me, are you all using the same weapons as before?¡±


    ¡°I now use a shield.¡± Came Toril¡¯s quick reply.


    ¡°As do I,¡± Jaimess added. "And I have also begun learning to dual-wield weapons."


    ¡°I¡¯ve started to use needles.¡± Jonet cheekily explained, capturing the undivided attention of the three of us. ¡°I¡¯m told His Imperial Grace, your Father, also uses needles?¡±


    ¡°He does? I¡¯m only founding out just now.¡± I tilted my head in surprised confusion. ''But... how interesting. It seems there¡¯s still much I don¡¯t know about my dear old Dad.¡¯ Shrugging the matter aside, I rose from my seat and assumed the Wraith Form, breaking my way into the wordless conversation that¡¯d broken out during my silence. ¡°Very well. If they aren¡¯t given to you all as a result of your status, I¡¯ll purchase your gear myself. I¡¯m going to confirm everything with my Great-Grandfather. I¡¯ll return after to share my findings.¡±


    After making a small detour to my room for a meal, I made the short trip to Grandpa Lich''s office and found him sitting behind his desk; either meditating or sleeping. Or... perhaps he was dead. More dead than he already was, at least. It was hard to tell sometimes. So I just stood there for more than a few moments, awkwardly staring at him, the vast landscape beyond the window, and at the many subspaces comprising the expansive office around me until he sort of shook himself awake, hastily straightened himself, and regally clasped his arms atop the desk before disgruntledly asking. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°I have questions.¡±


    ¡°Why am I not surprised.¡± He grumbled and waved for me to sit across from him. ¡°Ask away.¡±


    With a small bow, I settled in place, focusing every sense on his every reaction as I asked. ¡°What can you tell me about forced expansion?¡±


    His face instantly dropped in sheer bemusement. ¡°Forced what?¡±


    ¡®It may not be the right name. But you¡¯re not fooling anyone, old man.¡¯ I sighed before giving my explanation. ¡°I¡¯ve repeatedly seen and heard mentions of a way to increase the capacity of an individual''s mana well through external means. I have a theory on how it is done. I refer to it as, Forced Expansion.¡± I leaned a bit closer; eyed him a bit more suspiciously as I awaited his response. In truth, I wanted to ask him from the start. But my skeptical mind couldn¡¯t ignore the possibility of him lying to me. Or worse...


    ¡°Ask your mother.¡± He flatly waved his bear paw of a hand before dismissively turning his gaze aside.


    ¡°W- what?¡± I stammered.


    ¡°Your mother is a drow, Amun.¡± He bluntly blinked. ¡°A drow older, even, than me at that. She has knowledge of things that will never be told to the likes of us humans. But you Amun, have elven blood within you. I am sure you can understand the rest.¡±


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    ¡°I can.¡± I nodded with clear dissatisfaction. Then pressed on. ¡°Besides that, I¡¯m curious about the wares sold at our destination. There are a few things I wish to buy.¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡± He slowly squinted in much the same way that I had at him.


    ¡°Enchantments, equipment, and weapons for both myself and my vassals.¡± I amiably shrugged. ¡°A few potions. And external mana wells, if I can find any.¡±


    ¡°Hah!¡± He slammed his massive paw onto the desk, nearly muffling his maniacal cackle. ¡°Good luck finding a mana well that¡¯ll suit you.¡±


    I raised my brow at him and remained silent, prompting him to explain. Thankfully he did. But only after a long, long period of strained silence.¡°To use¡­ ¡®forced expansion,¡¯¡± Grandpa Lich eventually said with a sigh of disgust. ¡°Requires you to first be in possession of a particular potion, and then for you to possess a mana well greater than or equal to your own. Only a well from an elf, demon, or divine creature will do you any good, Amun.¡±


    ¡°My vassals are a different story.¡± I splayed my palms outwards as I countered his rock-solid point. ¡°Jaimess, Jonet, and Toril have Ice Wells in the Eighth, Eleventh, and Twelfth Grades respectively. The vassals I¡¯ll be choosing from here are bound to be far weaker than them. As you yourself said.¡± I paused. ¡°We need to be as prepared and capable as possible if we¡¯re going to fight in Ulai. We need every advantage we can get our hands on. Even if that comes with risks.¡±


    ¡°Mmm.¡± He grunted, stroking his beard in contemplation. ¡°Weapons and items are an easy matter.¡± He eventually sighed. ¡°External wells are another matter entirely, I¡¯m afraid- Not that they¡¯re out of stock.¡± He quickly assured me with raised palms. ¡°Only, they¡¯re low in supply and high in demand. I¡¯m afraid they simply can¡¯t be given to you. And they fetch for a high price.


    ¡°I have no issues with paying for the wells myself. If that¡¯s what you¡¯re implying.¡±


    ¡°Very well then, Boy.¡± Grandpa Lich sneered. ¡°If you accept the risks and conditions, we shall take a slight detour after our arrival in Odissi. We depart at dawn.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I politely bowed before turning to leave. Then, turned to glance back at his massive frame sitting comfortably behind his equally large desk. ¡°What¡­What were you doing before I entered?¡±


    ¡°Visiting and communing.¡± He cryptically replied. ¡°And... how do you know the size and densities of your vassals¡¯ wells?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m half-drow,¡± I replied in turn, then descended to the lower floors, echoing my snickers through the shadows of his office.


    ---


    ¡°We¡¯re a go for tomorrow.¡± I declared to my vassals after settling in my physical form on the 53rd floor. ¡°We¡¯ll be leaving at dawn. So make sure to get some rest tonight.¡±


    Following their nods, I turned to the crowd of expectant students and summoned doppelgangers to encourage them to continue training during our absence. Then owned up to the words I just threw at Grandpa Lich by returning to my annex to take the first step down the path of mana spell development with a basic infusion spell.


    Once fully attuned to the energy, I began willing the supercritical fluid towards my body. Drawing it to coat my frame in the form of the second skin I imagined. The result of a few minutes of mental effort was a sort of warm or loving embrace surrounding the entirety of my being. Or rather, a gentle embrace around my skin. A gently volatile embrace that felt like taking asylum in the hand of a giant on the verge of sneezing. Successful though it was, the Mana Skin was inconsistent and lumpy. Like a field of plasma took a liking to my body. Thus I worked and strained to refine and compress the technique until it became a dense sliver of mana. Then, and only then, would I test it. Preferably against Grandpa Lich. Though, if my hypothesis was correct, this would do little in terms of negating physical damage.


    I managed to make some progress. With constant practice, however, came increasing waves of mental exhaustion that forced me to take far more meal breaks and rest periods than I otherwise would have. Thus I relocated to the terrace a few hours later to peer over the ledge at a thick patch of vegetation far below. My landing zone, in the event of my failure. One always aimed for the bushes, after all.


    After reaffirming my intentions, I hurdled over the terrace while gathering as much air as possible underneath me. The sudden change in velocity and orientation was like a shockwave to my inner ear, forcing the sickening feeling of vertigo to come over me just as the ground appeared to magnify. Then, I began flailing. Panicking. Fighting to right myself and fire twin torches from my feet before I made a mess of the garden.


    The rate of my fall surely slowed but hardly came close to a suicide burn. So in a last-ditch effort, I cast aside elemental manipulation entirely and oriented myself feet first to allow the enchantments in my clothes to grant me seamless entry into my Shadow Pocket. As if I¡¯d dove off a cliff, I plunged into the umbral realm and came to a floating halt next to the burrow of solid shade, wherein I saw Roger wading out from his hold to give me an expectant look. Although I was frustrated, I gave him a small smile before swimming through the darkness to step back into reality to display a bit of insanity until sundown.


    Instead of constant deathmatches, however, he guided me into his office for a bit of practice in recovery magic and my continued necromantic lessons. ¡°We¡¯ll take it easy tonight.¡± He returned his feet to the floor with a sigh. ¡°I shall teach you a single, simple spell tonight. Though, it¡¯s far better to show you.¡± With no further explanation, he kicked off the table and slammed his open palm into my unguarded sternum, sending me rocketing across the office.


    The world spun in that instance, yet the pain was distant; if not nonexistent. Presumably at first, due to the sudden shock to my body. Squinting through the tumbling landscape, however, I saw Grandpa Lich''s massive figure in the distance. Kneeling. Holding¡­ my body. Guiding it to a gentle rest as if I¡¯d died on the spot.


    ¡®The fuck?¡¯ I immediately peered down to my body; if it could¡¯ve even been called such a thing. Like the souls trapped in the Under, my ¡®body¡¯ was but a near-transparent silhouette of my visage that freely floated around and in between the wide variety of furniture set within the office. Only a thin thread of silver connected me to my body. Otherwise, I was like a ghost. Otherwise, it was like. ¡°Astral Projection,¡± I said to both name the spell in my grimoire and affirm its nature.


    ¡°Aye.¡± Grandpa Lich nodded. ¡°While your body remains stagnant, your mind, spirit, and soul can move freely. Naturally, only those who can see spirits or souls can see you in this form. And while its range is unlimited, it is wise to not go far. Else you will find it increasingly difficult to find your way home.¡± He grimly warned, then cast me out with a dismissive wave. ¡°Remember this feeling, Amun. And get some rest. ¡°We have a long journey tomorrow.¡±


    With but a nod and naught a word, I returned to my body and descended through the floor with not a single intention to rest or meditate for at least a few hours. On the contrary, I allowed myself to unravel- to relax in the comforting embrace of the quiet night and lose myself in perfecting the Mana Skin and elemental flight techniques until the mental exhaustion became too much for me to bear. Wherein, I descended through the lower floors to spend the remainder of the night in one of my favorite establishments.

 37 - Arms

    The library. I spent much of my time there, last night. Perhaps too much time, as I managed only three hours of sleep before the harsh rays of dawn streamed through the tower''s window. To my surprise, I found myself a bit groggy and craving the vices of my past life. I wanted to smoke. Among other... degenerative things. And more exciting things, like guiding my vassals to Grandpa Lich''s office.


    Inside, the hulking man was standing by the window, looking beyond the terrace to where a massive, scaled, and somewhat zombified creature sat undulating in midair as if to pump the sweet smells of carrion into the office. My eyes traced the curvature of its snaking body around and around the tower as we stepped on. Yet no matter how much I looked, I found no legs or horns or anything other than scales and ribs. So I brought my eyes down to Grandpa Lich''s amiable smile to ask. ¡°What is this thing?¡±


    ¡°A sky serpent.¡± Came his blunt reply. Mine was silence, for I continued my search for arms, legs, or a head until my vassals boarded their oversized saddlebags behind us; wherein a sudden acceleration slammed my stomach, intestines, and other organs against my spine. Both the tower and the lake were gone within the span of a heartbeat. Reduced to a black speck and a slightly larger piece of glitter shimmering atop the whiteboard of Odissi.


    ¡°So.¡± I gasped, turning back to Grandpa Lich through the gray wash of clouds. ¡°Where did you get this¡­ sky serpent?¡±


    ¡°From here.¡± He replied. ¡°Before this land was ever called Deapou or Odissi.¡±


    ¡°Interesting.¡± I scratched my chin, peering over the ribs to peer through the pockets to the vast landscape skating by below. ¡°I¡¯ve always been interested in your story.¡± I turned back to him. ¡°Where you came from. How you became a Magus.¡±


    ¡°My story, huh?¡± He sighed, scratching his own beard for a few moments. A sort of glaze spread over his eyes as he too stared at the distant horizon.


    ¡°Well.¡± He eventually heaved out a deep breath, his eyes still locked ahead. ¡°I was born in the year one thousand-two. On an island, off the coast of Phaegrath. Jamettus Deapou was born on the mainland around a year after. Like everyone else, we were raised in perpetual conflict. Men fought men just as much as they did monsters in those days. It was through such actions that we met. And from that day forth, we continued fighting side-by-side for centuries. We both dreamed of better days, you see. So we danced between the gates to find our answer. Betrarth. The Inner Reaches. Beyond the White Wall. We''ve been everywhere but Youtera. And still, no answer.


    ¡°That lasted until the twelve-thirties.¡± He flicked his gaze to me. ¡°When a sudden and intense wave of pure mana appeared. Jamettus and I traced the energy to the epicenter. To here. This snow-capped plateau of an island.¡± He dramatically paused to spread his arms all around us. ¡°On this untamed continent, we found strange creatures; previously unseen by my generation and heard of only in tales. They were many, but the most important of them were the elves; your kind. Roaming the lands as if they were conquerors. They came to us like generals. Scholars. Architects. They organized us. Educated us in the ways of magic. It was they who taught us to build Core Annexes. It was through their guidance that Jamettus and I were able to create this Empire, for it was they who started this era of peace.¡± He humbly declared.


    ¡°And my mother was among them?¡± I assumed.


    Grandpa Lich quickly shook his head. ¡°She came much later. Only after Emeric was twice your age, did Eved seek him out. Though, it isn¡¯t my place to tell.¡± He dismissively shrugged.


    ¡®Fair enough.¡¯ I mentally shrugged in turn. ¡°I assume you went to the academy then? In the year... ten-seventeen; if my math is correct.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes.¡± He shot an amused look at me before shifting his gaze back just as quickly. ¡°I graduated from the academy at the top of my class, as I am sure you will. Unlike me, though, you won''t be going alone. Jamettus attended the academy in my wake and graduated at the top of his class as well. We both began our careers as Guild Masters and left our mark across the realms. All know of the Undying Necro King and the Molten Iron Magus!¡± He bellowed across the skies.


    ¡°And what about the other Magus?¡± I asked. ¡°James Epeth?¡±


    ¡°Ugh.¡± He groaned out the pride and nostalgia in ways that left his posture slouched and his eyes filled with something more¡­ bitter. ¡°We met the Barrier Brat just before we came here to meet the elves. We were at war with another guild. Well, he was. Jamettus and I were just having fun, hah! Regardless, after we found the elves, the elves found the barrier brat. From was from a well-established empire of hereditary barrier mystics. Thus James Epeth was always pretentious and entitled. Meeting the elves only exacerbated such traits tenfold. They increased his power and helped him seal Ulai behind an arcane barrier that lasts to this day. Because of that, he became a Magus like Jamettus and I.


    ¡°While we were busy creating our kingdoms in the years after, he returned to the throne that was his birthright in Epethia. An expansive land. But with that vast real estate came a lack of control in the furthest reaches. Eventually, there came a time when he needed our aid to make his lands as prosperous as ours.¡± Grandpa smugly shrugged. ¡°But he had certain¡­ beliefs Jamettus and I disagreed with. That led to the slander of both our names. Propaganda that bred hate and resentment in the Epethian citizenry as the generations passed. From what I understand, they believe us to be hoarders of wealth. Unwilling to share with anyone outside of our own nation. Though if anyone is to be hoarding, it¡¯s the Epethian monarchy.¡± He chuckled, shaking his head.


    ¡®How petty.¡¯ I thought. Then fought against the temptation to ask what those values were, if only for the sake of my fragile little ears. Instead, I scanned the expansive horizons around me. A mostly white, speckled sheet of land surrounded by leagues of midnight-blue water. Beyond it was the slim, crescent landmass that had been my entire world thus far. A dewdrop on the inner walls of a well placed on the sole isle of a water world. Deap Ridge. Even further beyond and to the east, however, was the land in question. A wrinkled landmass of greens and browns and beiges that seemed to stretch on to eternity. Yet bleeding in the morning sky above it was a faint tint of green coming from the alleged barrier. Like an aurora was shining so brightly and from so far away, its radiance could compete with that of the sun. And yet, at our left, rising infinitely higher than the endless field of clouds, was a wall of white. The White Wall. A veritable blot on the northern sky spanning the entirety of the distant horizon. Even from here, above the highest of clouds, I struggled to see both the base and the summit; for looking at the former was more akin to trying to push through an interdictive white fog while the gazing at latter felt like looking at the magnificence of Saturn from the surface of Mimas. Such was the magnificence of the Mortal Plane¡¯s scale.


    With my Grandfather¡¯s story finished, I got in a bit more sightseeing before sneaking in some meditation; and awoke to a sudden sense of harsh vertigo roughly three and a half hours later. Looking forward, I finally saw the desiccated snout of the sky serpent slowing as it pitched down to the iron cupcake overlooking the southern coast. Minutes later and were dismounted on the city outskirts, following Grandpa Lich to the woodline of the blackwood forests on the northwestern border. Specifically, to a particularly thick tree growing over another one of those volcanic slabs with my family crest on it. Though, unlike or perhaps just like the one at home, the stone turned into a descending staircase of solid shade after Grandpa Lich tapped his belt buckle to it.


    They wound up being quite long, those stairs. All to lead to a rather unimpressive subway station illuminated in bioluminescent moss or something of its equivalent. While walking, Grandpa Lich explained this was how the majority of goods were transported across the empire. The tunnels led to a loading and off-loading bay that I was sure sat beneath the northernmost train station in Odissi proper. And while we were told of a similar bay on the southern end near the coast, our destination was the vast, underground commercial hub sitting between them.


    With it being located directly beneath the Odissian market, I had to wonder if the place was even a secret at all. Sure, no one spoke of it; as far as I knew, at least. But it wasn¡¯t as if one needed a password or extensive directions to get here, as there were many staircases and lifts connecting the ¡®black¡¯ market to the proper one above. All one had to do was enter the underground and follow the sparse stream of people moving into the curtained complex, et voila.


    ¡°Buy whatever enchantments or potions you want.¡± Grandpa released us with a wave of the hand before turning into the shadows. ¡°No weapons, no armor. That comes later.¡±


    Entering the place reminded me of the old subway stations that¡¯d been repurposed after the cities had been abandoned on Earth. Liberated from the harsh temperatures above, the brick walls were lined with paintings, sconces, and tapestries that cast a decrepit and homely feeling onto the many stalls and booths lining the carpeted floors below. Passersby from all walks of life shuffled along, if not to shop then to catch some respite from the gelid temperatures above. Like me, their eyes danced over the wide range of items found within. There were, of course, the obvious things; clothes, weapons, tools, and enchantments. Though the more peculiar wares involved meat advertised to have been cut from various monsters and other monster parts; as well as potions, tomes, and grimoires all arranged like departments in a supermarket; allowing for dozens upon dozens of shop fronts, booths, stalls, and stands to border the comfortably wide aisles. Relatively empty, though they were.


    That said, I¡¯d much rather browse an unoccupied market than walk through a crowd of kneeling people.


    I decided to make a loop around the place in a counterclockwise motion and thus waddled into the first stall I saw. An open bookstore with six shelves hexagonally arranged around a desk of the same shape at the center. Curious, I picked up an indiscriminate book to study the cover. Like the magic it was advertised to hold, the cover had a rough, powdery texture that left an ashen residue on my fingers as I turned it over in my hands to study the spine. Inside, the cover page had the title of the assumed late owner. The White Hunter, a captain with smoke magic from an age I knew not; for an intricate lock and chain wrapped around the rest of the pages and back cover, locking its secrets away from my eyes.


    ¡®Interesting.¡¯ I returned the grimoire to its place and continued scanning the wares for any hints of shadow, death, ice, paper, or lightning magic. Unsurprisingly though, I found grimoires for only ice and lightning. However, before I could begin inspecting further, the merchant kindly told me not to unravel the tomes. I simply nodded in acknowledgment and waddled the maze of departments for a bit to tell Toril and Jonet about the tomes and left the matter in their hands. Then, moved on to the next section I was most interested in. Enchantments.


    Through my perusing, I was able to gain an understanding of the types of general enchantments available for use. While they only had a few available types from an affinity standpoint, each enchantment; whether it be centered around heat or cold, or shadow, had a variety of options from which to choose. Or rather, conditions. When choosing a water pump, for example, one had to consider if they wanted the pump to run continuously or on demand. On top of that, the flow rate and if applicable, the temperature had to be determined. And even then, they had to be considered for whatever infrastructure they were to be a part of.


    In the end, I purchased one standard-capacity water pump of each type and a continuous high-capacity pump for five and ten silver coins respectively; four culinary and two industrial heating elements for eight silver and two gold coins respectively; and my most expensive purchase as of yet, six heavily enchanted rucksacks for twelve-hundred gold coins a piece. Though I still had millions of gold coins left in my Pocket, seeing such a drop in my reserves implored me to be a little more frugal with my spending from here on out.


    I still had mana wells to buy, after all. Besides, aside from the basics, I didn¡¯t see any enchantments that fancied my interest. There were many that granted resistances for things like heat, cold, or poison; some increased mana sensitivity while others advertised to provide buffs to certain types of magic. But nothing that did anything like increase the power or capacity of one''s mana well.


    Following that, I moved on to the potions. Wherein I found Jaimess apparently eying a steel-colored brew like it was his lover; or like he had a brilliant idea. He was paying for the item and had nearly walked off by the time I arrived. He seemed eager to continue exploring, so I quickly gave him his rucksack and watched him store his new potion inside before bowing his thanks and trotting off further down the aisle. Leaving me in a relatively quiet atmosphere in which to peruse the selection. Retracing his steps to the shelves, I saw a single Stone Skin Potion missing from the stock. For what reason he needed it was my biggest guess. And I didn¡¯t particularly care to hypothesize as I moved on to browse the rows of brews. His interests were his interests. As his leader, it was my job to foster them. Not hinder them.


    Like the enchantments, there were potions that gave buffs or resistances to certain types of damage or magic. On top of that were the common, greater, superior, and supreme healing potions I learned theories of in Urda¡¯s class. Though, with my variations of Leech Hand, I didn¡¯t feel the particular need to procure any. It wasn''t as if I had the means to analyze them, after all. The last category of potions seemed to be a more miscellaneous or versatile selection, though. In there were brews that allowed people to see in the dark or in the infrared, breathe underwater, or even change another part of their physiology for a certain amount of time. The potions I was far more interested in and the ones not found in Urda¡¯s syllabus. While it was fascinating to imagine the effects of the many potions available, I was much more interested in learning how to brew the concoctions myself. Despite how powerful I was and would later become, I was fully aware of the fact that there would be some things I''d never be able to do and that there would always be someone or something that was better than me at something. My hope was that enchantments and potions would bridge that gap, or at least shorten it. That they¡¯d cover any weakness me and my followers had so we could survive whatever challenges Telin had in store for me.


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    Operating under the rationalization that I¡¯d either spend too much money or spoil the surprise of learning of a particularly interesting beast, I decided to skip the monster parts section and returned to the curtained entrance of the complex. Looking around, I saw my three vassals huddled around each other; completely ignorant of the wraith-like form of my Great Grandfather looming behind them.


    Without a word, I distributed the bags to the other two before throwing a nod of approval to my hidden forefather, then followed him through an innocuous corridor placed adjacent to the underground market. We traveled the entirety of its length; hundreds of meters, before he appeared in his physical form. Just as a massive troll of a man with ghastly, black-ashen skin snapped his eyes to us and emitted a deep growl that jostled the air itself. Slowly; probably at a normal pace from his perspective, the... whatever it was, pulled himself from his recline on the wall and seemed to crawl forth. Crossing the notable distance between us in an instant and filling it with the prostrating form of his massive body.


    ¡°My King!¡± The voice bellowed to the core of my bones, punctuating the powerful gust generated by his simple movements.


    ¡°Talos.¡± Grandpa Lich gave a greeting nod to the hulking figure peering above its hands. Then gestured to me. ¡°This is my Great-Grandson, Amun.¡±


    The... giant, I supposed- Talos shifted his bow to me at the first syllable of my name. ¡°Son of Emeric, Blessed by the Shade. Amun, another sovereign of death; touched by the abyss.¡± He bowed to me. ¡°I am Talos. Death Giant. Guardian of the Royal Armory.¡±


    I tried not to groan from the sheer intensity of his booming voice as I responded to his surprisingly well-mannered greeting. ¡°Pleasure to meet you, Talos.¡±


    In silent thanks, Talos knocked his head against the ground. The simple act nearly knocked me off my feet both then and now, as he rose from the ground to erect himself to his full ten meters. The cavern we were in was by no means small; much like everything else on the Mortal Plane, I¡¯ve come to learn. Still, though, the death giant had to duck his head just to stand against the wall. And even then, the stalactites above scraped against his scalp and neck while his head tracked us across the room. The great set of doors at the far end; huge when compared to myself, hardly rose above Talos¡¯ ankle. Craning my neck above, I saw only a school of pale-blue spheres of reflecting off the gray-on-gray, wrinkled, fanged, pig-like face surrounding his deep-set eyes.


    ¡°Kneel for the Royal House of Cole!¡±


    The order rang out as soon as I crossed the threshold behind Grandpa Lich. Snapping my eyes down from Talos, I saw a scaled-down version of the market from earlier, occupied by a single individual rising to the call of her own demand.


    ¡°We have everything prepared for His Imperial Highness.¡± She skipped forth. She was a tall and slender woman with pasty skin and brown, heavily greased hair that¡¯d been combed straight back over her head; all but showcasing a prominent widow¡¯s peak. ¡°Spears, daggers, axes, maces, needles, and armor for His Grace and his vassals.¡± She gave a presentational bow towards the many display cases bordering the walls before snapping upright to approach me with beaming eyes and an introductory bow. ¡°And you are undoubtedly His Grace in the flesh. I am Manilia Cumana, the royal armorer.¡± She bowed again before rising to her full height. ¡°I¡¯ve been long awaiting this day. Today! When His Imperial Majesty would bring His Grace, Amun of Odissi here to be fitted for his royal gear. His Imperial Majesty has said much of you, Your Grace. Please.¡± She bowed again. ¡°Allow me to give you all that you will need to succeed in your march across the realms.¡±


    ¡°Very well. I am in your care, Manilia.¡± I held my arm out to my side, signaling her to begin.


    Manilia immediately spurred forward, guiding us to the cases. ¡°Since this land was founded, the finest crafters and artificers in the Empire have been enthralled in an endless competition to make the finest weapons and enchantments for the noble and royal families of Deapou and Odissi. Thus it was deemed necessary for this centralized location to be established. An armory where merchants could deposit their greatest creations and have them appraised and closely inspected by other merchants. And myself.¡± She paused to give a prideful wink. ¡°Here, you¡¯ll find only the finest creations the Empire has to offer!¡± She proudly threw her hands towards dozens upon dozens of weapons neatly arranged behind the glass cases.


    Me and my vassals were veritably astounded as our eyes fed on the displays. While most of them were filled with the weapons we favored, the cases straddling the center were filled with nearly every type of weapon one could think of- war hammers; every type of axe imaginable; staffs; flails; scythes; swords; clubs, chains, and sickles. Even slings; bows and crossbows were available for selection. Any and every tool used to end the life of another was on display here in the armory. Made in every model and style one could possibly want or need.


    ¡°For Lady Jonet Fischer; His Grace¡¯s eyes and ears, I recommend this set of wear.¡± Manilia brought us to a wall of gear dedicated entirely to Jonet and gestured to what appeared to be a plain, black under-suit draped over a mannequin. ¡°Light. Inconspicuous. Reinforced and enchanted to defend against both physical and magical attacks. I say it will give you ease of access to any place you wish. But the choice is yours.¡± She took a final bow before stepping back, allowing Jonet to freely peruse the selection.


    Her eyes first fell on the array of needles- nothing more than oversized sewing needles or perhaps a glorified shank. Of which, there were six that stared back at her; three enchanted with ice, two with shadow, and one with both. Naturally; I assumed, her hand reached for the latter. A pair of slim, black wedges that appeared more like large hairpins than weapons. Instruments no bigger than a pencil, fashioned with two jewel-like enchantments on the bulbous handles that gave some unknown power to the needles. After reading a small pamphlet hanging from the handles, Jonet clutched them and the garb Manilia pointed out to her and turned to the armorer, smiling as she said. ¡°These are the ones.¡±


    ¡°Excellent choices.¡± Manilia bubbly bowed before taking Jaimess by the arm and guiding him across the room to his department. ¡°A duel-wielding financial and political adviser who uses his magic to mimic animals. His Grace¡¯s left wing. For you, Jaimess, A. Corey, I recommend this set.¡±


    Jaimess¡¯ gaze followed Manilia¡¯s outstretched hands to the center-most shelf where a rather dull set of medium splint armor sat between a rather unremarkable pair of sticks and a plate-sized disk studded with pale, blue gems. Seeing them for what they were, I took an unconscious step toward the case, muttering. ¡°Those enchantments are unprimed.¡±


    ¡°They are.¡± Manilia nodded. ¡°It seems someone was considerate of the fact that paper magic is a rarity. Each piece within this set contains three unprimed enchantments for you to imbue your paper magic into; and whatever affinities you¡¯ll later awaken as well.¡± She added with a regal wave of the hand.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it.¡± Jaimess grinned as he quickly reached into the case to stuff the gear in his rucksack. Triggering Manilia to race to the next wall and continue her performance.


    ¡°His Grace¡¯s Right Wing. The chosen knight of the tempest, Toril O¡¯Connell. For you, I recommend this axe and set of armor.¡± She threw her arms to what appeared to be nothing less than a gladiatorial set of armor made of the same green-hued black metal as Jaimess'' armor. Toril''s, however, was a Roman-style galea with a mohawk plume the same color as the electricity flowing within its intended owner. Crested on the brow and along the cheek guards were the noble symbols of equines, dragons, and griffons artfully ingrained inside a border of Lichtenberg figures. The upper portion of his armor consisted of a curiously thick manica for his left arm with a prominent enchantment placed on the forearm and a large breastplate over his heart that was etched with the image of a towering mountain, backdropped by fierce storm clouds. In comparison, his lower torso was unguarded and remained so until his belt: A thick leather band supporting a small pouch on the small of the back and a loincloth made of chevron-pointed leather straps, leaving a long greave similar to the arm brace to cover Toril¡¯s right leg from the base of the hip to the top of a pair of high-topped sandals.


    ¡°Outstanding,¡± Toril muttered to himself, placing his hand on the glass. Then turned his gaze to the weapon. Much like everything else, the axes on display came in every style and fashion one could think of. Some were crude, yet beautiful; others were so finely crafted I felt it would have been a crime to dull their blades against flesh and bone. The one accompanying the set, however, was somewhere in the middle. A fine piece of craftsmanship. Simple, yet elegant.


    It was an abnormally long, one-handed axe with a wide, leafed head like that of a Dane axe; albeit with a fat hammerhead on the opposing side. Gunmetal-black in tone and adorned with gilded Lichtenberg figures, it created a beautiful contrast against the shimmering, polished blade. And even more so with the finely carved handle and spiked, gilded hand guard. Most interesting of all, both to Toril and myself, were the four enchantments in the axehead, arranged in the same design as the crest over his heart but with a grayish-blue eye at the mountain peak and a cobalt-blue stone in place of the sun, straddled and framed by two unprimed enchantments.


    I couldn¡¯t even be mad watching Toril secure his gear in his bag. Sure, they¡¯d been robbed of the ability to make their own choices, but I would¡¯ve made the same decisions, being in their shoes. Manilia''s eye was just that good.


    ¡°And for the royal, half-drow sorcerer; His Grace, Grand Duke Amun of Odissi.¡± Manilia beckoned me to the center of the room. Wherein a particularly wide set of cases sat beneath a black sheet. ¡°I recommend this set.¡±


    I arrived at her side just as she revealed the contents and stepped aside. Two cases were straddling a larger third, each with its own distinctive set of armor and weapons.


    To the left was a short spear, like an Iklwa made from blackwood or some type of ivory. The pommel was gilded and enchanted, and two more enchantments sat within the blade and hilt. Behind it, was more of a monk''s fighting garb than a traditional set of armor. Somewhat baggy pants; dyed a gray-black color, were tucked into a pair of black, minimalist hiking or military-style boots and tied off with a gilded sash at the waist. A sash that a half-Cassock robe with the same color scheme was tucked into and topped with a black-on-black skeletal half-mask. The daggers, on the other hand, were more like the needles Jonet and my Father supposedly used. Things I had no particular interest in using, so I went on to peruse the case on the far right.


    Held in a brace alongside the frame, was what one would normally think of when imagining a spear: A long, blackwood haft, textured in barbershop ribbons of gold and black with a leaf-shaped blade; also with three enchantments in the same places as the first. Behind it was a gladiator-esque suit of armor much like Toril¡¯s. A vibrant helmet and ornate breastplate with mismatching greaves and arm braces that¡¯d serve as the only protection for my already fragile body. Conversely, the daggers were an ornate pair of jambiya. With beautifully curved, double-edged blades of what appeared to be this world''s version of wootz steel but with a greenish hue; and a handle made of some type of ivory that¡¯d been inlaid with two enchantments. So too were the sheathes made from the same type of ivory, yet they''d been ornately wrapped in the fur of a black kid goat.


    ¡®Interesting.¡¯ I nodded, facing Manilia¡¯s suggested set. Positioned in much the same way as the other two, was a naginata with a solid black ivory haft or a similar material as the daggers to my right. A thick tuft or collar of ink-black, gold-laced feathers, and quills sat at the base of the curved, sword-like blade at the head; made from the same wootz-like greenish metal as before and boasting a triage of enchantments in the same areas as the others. The singular dagger, on the other hand, was an ornately forged seax with a midnight-blue handle and a slanted sheath meant for the small of the back. Behind those, however, was an overbearing, dominating suit of abyssal armor. From the neck to the toes, the mannequin was covered in beautifully curved plates of midnight-black metal with silvery tones that spurred into jagged points on the feet, knees, elbows, and shoulders. Making a domineering frame for the black, abyssal horned skull of a helmet poised above it.


    It looked like something my Great-Grandfather would wear. Something that people would see and call a death knight. Like it needed a desiccated horse of violet flames to be made complete. All things that I didn¡¯t want in my life.


    So, ignoring the expectant gazes of the others, I calmly reached into first the left case, followed by the right, and lastly the center. Then methodically secured my gear in my Shadow Pocket amidst the increasingly shocked and disgruntled gazes of Manilia and Grandpa Lich.


    ¡°Interesting choices, Your Grace.¡± Manilia nodded just as slowly as she spoke, a satisfied and amused grin spread over her face. Grandpa Lich on the other hand.


    ¡°Take the Abyssal Armor, Amun.¡± He spat.


    I took a deep breath and bit my tongue. While I was free to ¡®talk back¡¯ in privacy, I was certain that he¡¯d be more than displeased if I openly disrespected him before one of his subjects. Besides, I was far more tactful than that. So, I bit the bullet and stashed the hulking set of armor in my shadow without another word.


    Despite my aggravation, I felt giddy at the thought of returning to the Tower and putting my toys to use against my Great-Grandfather. Or at the very least, at the idea of reading through the associated pamphlets and testing their features. But for now, there was other business to attend to. So I turned my gaze back to the Royal Armorer and held up two fingers. ¡°There are two other things that I¡¯m looking for, Manilia.¡±


    ¡°And what would those be, Your Grace?¡± She rubbed her hand together as her grin spread wider than otherwise possible. ¡°If it is in our stock, I shall point His Grace in the proper direction.¡±


    ¡°I need mana wells and the potions associated with them.¡± I bluntly stated, looking her close in the eyes. Causing a stir of shock to arise from the curious woman.


    ¡°Mana wells?¡± She rocked back on her heels, chuckling in bemusement.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I nodded. ¡°The highest grades you have.¡±


    Hearing my words seemed to create a mix of excitement and disbelief in her. More than once, it appeared as if she wished to say something. Only to close her mouth and look off into the distance before turning her gaze back to me once, twice, and thrice before guiding us to the center of the room.


    ¡°I must tell you, Your Grace.¡± She paused to kneel and reveal a trapdoor beneath a rug, then turned back to me with apologetic eyes. ¡°I am unable to simply give you these mana wells. They come at a great cost, you see.¡± She again paused to descend a modestly long spiral staircase and gestured around to a moderately-sized, pentagonal room covered wall-to-wall with thick cases of glowing, cylindrical shells. ¡°The highest grade we have is a 9th Grade Diamond. Diamond wells fetch for one-hundred-thousand gold per.¡± She gestured to a half-filled case to our sides.


    ¡°That is fine.¡± I nodded, approaching the case. ¡°As long as they¡¯re compatible with Ice Wells of the Eighth Grade or higher, I¡¯ll be purchasing six of them.¡± I turned to show her the cluster of wells gathered in my hands before placing them in hers. In turn, depositing the coins to her was a simple matter of closing a chest to pit the interior in darkness and simply spawn the corresponding gold inside. Making me 600,000 coins poorer. Not that it mattered, with my more than exuberant allowance, I made a little less than half that a year. And that was just what my father was giving me. Knowing him, he was probably matching whatever he gave me in a separate account. In short, I was still a millionaire. And yet I still held little knowledge about the value of currency in this realm. But I digress, I received everything I came for and more. Thus after giving thanks to Manilia for her time and excellent service, our party was huddled back in the corridor; the four of us practically skipping behind my Great-Grandfather.


    ¡®And now we wait.¡¯ I internally sighed in both despair and hope upon our return to the main underground complex. ¡®And wait and wait and wait.¡¯

 38 - Shadowsteel Reaper

    Following our departure from Odissi, Grandpa Lich assumed his perch behind the sky serpent¡¯s head to brood while I sat next to my vassals, chattering amongst themselves about the shared desires to try out their newly acquired gear. An inevitability as far as I was concerned. So I instead sat and thought about my forefather''s logic in having me take this horrid set of armor until the conversations died down, and I butted my way in.


    ¡°Were there any other purchases you happened to make?¡± I asked. ¡°Any grimoires or tomes?¡±


    ¡°None.¡± Jonet shook her head. ¡°I didn¡¯t feel the need for any potions or enchantments. And I felt that your teachings would be far better than any old grimoire sitting in an overpriced market.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re wastes of money.¡± Toril chortled. ¡°I have no interest in copying another¡¯s spells anyway.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡± I laughed. ¡°What about you, Jaimess?¡±


    He pulled the neck of a bottle partway out from his satchel as he meekly said. ¡°Only a couple of pens, a nice journal, and a potion.¡±


    ¡°A potion?!¡± Toril turned to him with furrowed brows of bemusement.


    ¡°Yes. A potion.¡± Jaimess sneered back at him. ¡°I happen to be curious about how they work. About what their limitations are.¡±


    ¡°As am I,¡± I said. ¡°You should take the alchemy class sometime.¡±


    ¡°If my schedule ever lets up, I will.¡± He sighed.


    ¡°In that case.¡± I paused as the sky serpent began its descent towards the edge of Corvus Tower¡¯s dead zone and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder once we settled on solid ground. ¡°I¡¯ll transcribe what I¡¯ve learned in Urda¡¯s class and relay it to you.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Your Grace.¡± Jaimess bowed. And bowed again as Grandpa Lich''s towering figure loomed before us.


    ¡°How wholesome.¡± He spat, turned, and gestured towards the Tower. ¡°You three take some time to get accustomed to your gear. Your training resumes after the weekend. And Amun.¡± He scowled at me. ¡°You see me tomorrow night.¡±


    I wordlessly bowed in tune with my vassals as they acknowledged his orders and watched him step into a nearby shadow. Once he was gone, the four of us practically sprinted to an open patch of forest to rip our belongings from our rucks and in some cases, try them on.


    ¡°Who wants to go first?¡± I excitedly asked.


    ¡°I will!¡± Toril practically shouted as he ripped his axe from his pack and frivolously scanned the accompanying pamphlets. ¡°Its name is... Storm Thief.¡± He declared, tossing the papers aside with a curious scowl.


    ¡°Show us what it can do,¡± I said.


    Without a word, Toril stood, wound back his arm, and hurled the axe at a distant tree. With a dull, anticlimactic thud, the axe slammed to a halt in the trunk, carving a deep wedge in the bark. Almost hesitantly, Toril then reached out his hand, and in turn, the axe sort of budged. Wrenched in the tree before it broke free and hurtled through the air back to Toril¡¯s palm.


    ¡®Haven¡¯t seen that before.¡¯ I chuckled to myself as Toril¡¯s awed eyes turned back to the rest of us.


    ¡°Is it heavy?¡± Jaimess asked.


    ¡°A little.¡± Toril shrugged. ¡°But, I¡¯ll get used to it.¡±


    ¡°And what about that?¡± Jonet pointed at the brace around Toril¡¯s arm.


    Held in place by leather straps around his arm and back, the brace consisted of a large, circular pad of armor around his heart that made the mane to the roaring lion of his pauldron, staring out from the point of his shoulder. From there, a matching black-bronze rerebrace, couter, and a thick, wedge-shaped vambrace covered the remainder of his arm; up to a curved plate that shrouded the back of his hand. Without a word, Toril curled his arm as if he were flexing his bicep and poured a bit of mana into the sleeve, prompting the wedge on his forearm to spring to life and unfurl a series of pie-like plates to make up a circular shield.


    ¡°That¡¯s not all!¡± Toril beamed. Charging more electricity into his arm to conjure a field of plasma around the shield that veritably doubled its radius.


    ¡°Impressive!¡± I nodded as Toril killed and folded his plasma shield back into its closed position.


    ¡°It has... my parents'' magic. My father''s Tempest and my mother''s Mist. Other than that, there are two unprimed enchantments in the head of Storm Thief for after our awakening. And the armor is said to be both physically and magically resistant.¡± With a prideful smile still plastered on his face, Toril sat under a tree and gestured for one of the other two to show and tell.


    Following Jaimess passing along the torch, Jonet cheekily held up her jumpsuit and giggled out. ¡°I was given a onesie. And needles!¡±


    I admit it forced a bit of a chuckle out of my lungs. ¡®It seems she¡¯s taking her acting quite seriously.¡¯ I thought, pinching the bridge of my nose in mild despair as she continued.


    ¡°It says it will silence my movements. And if it¡¯s the only thing I¡¯m wearing, I¡¯ll turn invisible when not in direct light.¡± She paused to beam a ¡®just like you!¡¯ gaze in my direction before holding up a pair of needles for all of us to see. They looked like ornate hairpins or perhaps some strange type of wand, perhaps 25 centimeters in length. The handles were of wood or ivory and the blade was of an icy or silvery metal that menacingly stretched from her palm like the crude fingers of a hag. ¡°The ice enchantment allows me to control the size of the needles. Anything from a javelin, to a needle too small to see; according to this.¡± She waved the pamphlet beside her head. ¡°And the shadow enchantment allows me to throw a¡­¡± She paused to bring the paper over her eyes before lowering it again. ¡°A phantom needle.¡± She smiled. ¡°I can throw out the needle¡¯s shadow and blind someone. How cool is that?¡± She turned to Jaimess.


    ¡°Do you have to talk like that?¡± Toril groaned. ¡°It¡¯s weird.¡±


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    ¡°Yes.¡± She bluntly nodded, still beaming at Jaimess. ¡°Your turn.¡±


    ¡°Ugh.¡± Jaimess groaned to his feet and stepped around his armor, displayed neatly on a paper mannequin he¡¯d conjured in mere seconds; or rather, a paper version of my Doppelganger spell. On top of it was a polished set of armor made of the same greenish-black metal as Toril''s, albeit with tan trim. Though, the set itself appeared more like a modern set of body armor rather than what it truly was. Set atop a chainmail tunic, a small and compact plate hung from overall-like straps atop the shoulders; covering the chests, abs, back, and nothing more with a shining piece of contoured armor. Much was the same for the arms and legs, which consisted of leather-bound, metal straps secured along the limbs like splints. Plated minimalist boots and a sort of kabuto helmet of the same color scheme completed the set. Without magic, at least.


    ¡°The armor, shield, and mace all have three, unprimed enchantments.¡± Jaimess meekly continued after making an orbit around the set. ¡°I assume once they¡¯ve been imbued with my paper magic, they¡¯ll behave like Toril¡¯s shield. Well.¡± He sighed. ¡°The armor and shield will, at least.¡±


    ¡°And, you¡¯ll be able to form any type of weapon or tool you want,¡± Toril added. ¡°Why don¡¯t you show us.¡±


    ¡°Because.¡± Jaimess sighed, turning to me. ¡°It''ll take time to prime them with my magic and test them properly. And I¡¯m far more interested in what His Grace¡¯s gear has in store."


    ¡°You and me both.¡± I huffed out a laugh through my nose as I spawned my doppelganger to have him arrange my gear while I recalled the information from my Eye. ¡°The boots are magical, having been made from Vulcan Ox leather, they grant the means to wade through lava as if it was water, on top of being enchanted with the Shadow Step spell. The sleeves, on the other hand, were originally imbued with Shadow Pockets for the needles the set came with. I have no use for needles, however, so¡­ I guess I''ll put something else in there.¡± I shrugged. ''Maybe a pipe or something.''


    ¡°The only other enchantments are located within the mask.¡± I paused so that my umbral clone could turn the piece about for them all to see. It looked like a skeletal jaw with sharpened teeth, long and straight like some sort of devil. ¡°Three of them. One places my mouth and nose into the Shadow Realm, allowing me to breathe if I otherwise couldn¡¯t. And the other two allow me to exhale umbral and necrotic mana respectively. Other than that.¡± My clone gestured to the pants, sash, and monk-like half-robe. ¡°The clothes are said to be made from a variety of silks, fibers, and leathers that give it both physical and magical resistances as well as self-mending properties.¡±


    ¡°Of course, of course.¡± Toril nodded slowly while squinting closely at the mask. ¡°What do you mean, though?¡± He turned his gaze to me. ¡°Exhale energy?¡±


    ¡°I can imagine using it for Poison Mimicry.¡± I amiably shrugged.


    ¡°Poison?¡± Jaimess blinked his shocked, confused gaze at me. ¡°Mimicry?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve sampled hundreds of poisons, venoms, and toxins. I''m immune to them. And my necromancy can mimic their effects.¡±


    ¡°Death magic makes you immune to poison," Toril muttered to himself. ¡°That¡¯s reassuring to hear.¡±


    ¡°Resistant, according to my Great-Grandfather.¡± I corrected. ¡°Though he implied and I assume that it¡¯s my mother¡¯s blood and my necromancy that gives me immunity.


    ¡°Anyway.¡± I turned to pull my daggers from my Shadow pocket and lay them on the ground before me. As I saw before, the finely curved, double-edged blades were layered beautifully in the two-tone tiger-stripe pattern of wootz steel with a prominent ridge running down the center. With the enchanted hilt of Stone-Mammoth Ivory, the overall length was around 36 centimeters; making the pair of Jambiya the perfect accessories for my sash. ¡°These are called¡­¡± I paused to reread the name. ¡°Shade Splitters.¡±


    ¡®How cringe.¡¯ I groaned before monotonously continuing. ¡°The shadow enchantment is called, Dimensional Splitter. In short, it can cut into the physical plane from the Plane of Shadows, and vice versa. The other enchantment is similar to my Leech Hand spell. It drains the vitality of whoever it cuts, enabling me to grow stronger with each kill.¡± A few moments of silence followed, curiously enough. Looking up, I saw only mortified gazes staring back at me. For the most part.


    ¡°You can do that?¡± Jonet asked with equal parts horror and astonishment.


    ¡°I can. It¡¯s how I heal, after all.¡± I slowly nodded while retrieving my other weapon from the shade of a nearby tree.


    ¡°Damn.¡± Toril whistled low. ¡°Now that is a nice spear.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I grinned, looking it over again. ¡°Its name is¡­¡± I groaned and cringed again as I recalled the name. ¡°The Shadowsteel Reaper.¡±


    ¡°Badass.¡± Toril grinned madly.


    ¡®Ugh, goddammit.¡¯ I sighed, then continued recalling the pamphlet. ¡°Like all royal weapons, the Reaper''s blade is made of pure adamantine; whatever that is.¡± I shrugged, half-knowing the answer. ¡°The haft is made from stone-mammoth ivory and the wood of a divine tree; giving the weapon innate magical properties that yields a stone-like durability. Lastly, the collar is made from¡­ Night Ave feathers powdered with gold dust. Giving it a higher sensitivity to my shadow mana and increased aerodynamics in flight; but more importantly, the collar hides a hidden pivoting mechanism. Lastly.¡± I quickly skimmed through the rest of the page. ¡°There are five enchantments, one being unprimed: Shadow Link; Spectral Blade; Shade Extension, and Touch of Darkness.¡±


    ¡®Jeez. Who names these things.¡¯ I scoffed, taking the spear in hand to step away from the others.


    I first looked around until I saw a shadow cast by a large tree before looking down at my own shadow and thrusting the spear into it. Seamlessly, the blade dipped into my shadow and emerged from the darkened ground a few meters away, where it grounded itself into the trunk with a loud knock. Retracting the spear through the linked shadows, I held the weapon overhead and began funneling death magic into the collar around the base of the blade. In turn, a sharp metallic click rang from the collar just as the spearhead snapped to a ninety-degree angle and the blade began filling, thickening as more from the necrotic energies until it finally resembled its namesake.


    ¡°Apparently.¡± I nodded to the curved, spectral blade scythe. ¡°Anything impaled by this will have its soul ripped out. Allowing me to either absorb it or turn it into some type of specter. Either a poltergeist, wraith, or ghost.¡±


    Ignoring their horrid expressions, I recalled the death mana; snapping the Reaper back into its spear configuration before I harshly swung downward, pouring shadow mana into the haft while doing so. And as it fell, the polearm elongated, removing any possibility of me controlling the now meters-long spear as it fell in front of me like a felled tree. After retracting the spear to its original length, I moved under the canopy; into the dense shroud of darkness permeating the woods to toss my beloved weapon aside like a fish released back into the water. As if it never left my hand, the spear arced and curved unnaturally through the air above me as I stood entirely still. Like it was grasped by my Umbral Hand, the spear swung and thrashed around over my head, cutting into the wind and trees with loud swooshes and knocks that sent a gentle breeze over the four of us.


    ¡°As for the unprimed enchantment,¡± I said, returning to my vassals. ¡°I¡¯m going to fill it with void magic, at some point.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like my axe, but far better.¡± Toril gasped before quickly shaking his head and baring his palms. ¡°Not that I¡¯m complaining. You¡¯re royalty, after all.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I sighed, looking down at my shadow. ¡°And then there¡¯s the matter of that armor.¡±


    ¡°His Imperial Highness seemed adamant that you take it,¡± Jonet commented.


    ¡°He didn¡¯t seem adamant.¡± I corrected. ¡°He was adamant. For what reason, I have no clue.¡±


    ¡°Well, why don¡¯t you want it, Your Grace?¡± Toril asked.


    ¡°Look at me!¡± I raised my arms. ¡°I¡¯m small and frail. I¡¯d hardly be able to move in a full set of armor. Besides.¡± My hands fell as my shoulders shrugged. ¡°Plate armor isn¡¯t my style.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Jaimess concurred. ¡°It doesn¡¯t really fit you. You remind me of a monk, to be honest.¡±


    ''That''s fair.'' I shrugged.


    ¡°Maybe His Imperial Majesty thinks you¡¯ll grow into it?¡± Jonet cheekily added.


    ¡°Who knows?¡± I muttered. Tossing my belongings back into my shadow. ¡®But I fully intend to find out.¡¯

 39 - Phantom Knight

    Our little show-and-tell concluded with me and my vassals splitting ways. They returned to the Tower for some much-warranted downtime while I remained in the forest for some highly anticipated training. And changing.


    Like the formal suit I¡¯d been wearing up until now, the pants resized to a snug fit around my waist and ankles the moment I slipped them on. So too did my boots. But the moment my feet settled into those silky soles, a toasty comfort rose up my legs to blossom in my chest, yet refused to brush off the distant cold I''d grown so comfortable with. Interesting pieces, they were, but with no lava to wade through, I grabbed the gilded sash to wrap it around my waist twice. Then paused; hesitated before I tied so as to inspect the magical mark sprawling across my torso.


    It was as it was all those years ago, wherein I first looked upon it. It was as it was across the Empire. On the trains, on the ships, on those volcanic slabs that led to the underground. It was almost as if the darkness, death, and void within had broken through my physical body akin to a fault line; albeit an ornate one. A dark, abyssal scar on my skin began at either side of my hips, rising in an arc along my ribcage to meet at my diaphragm. And from my navel, an abyssal trunk rose to the base of my sternum, wherein it sprouted. Spread into weaving, waving willow branches that reached as high as my collarbones and stretched as wide as my shoulders. Like a great tree standing before the setting sun. Far larger and more noticeable than the majority of other marks out there, I assumed.


    With my inspection done, I tied off the sash, tucked my daggers into the fabric, and began training with them in earnest. Immediately, I noticed a fine weight to the weapons as I deftly swung them at my Doppelganger. Executing a short combo before I stepped into the darkness to take a swing at the air above a rotted tree. With the passing of the blade came a ripple in the umbral air. And not much of anything else. Once I returned to the physical plane, however, I saw a deep gash splitting the face of an otherwise healthy tree.


    That marked the end of my tests and the beginning of actual training. Martial combat; elemental manipulation and fusion; sorcery and spells; mana skin; all these things and more were used in conjunction during those endless sessions with my darker half, for such seriousness was necessary for the increasingly gruesome deathmatches against Grandpa Lich.


    ---


    After a good five or so hours of actual sleep, I emerged from my ''room'' a few hours before sundown, granting me just enough time to update the tinkerers before I saw the man upstairs. For there was a problem that needed fixing.


    In short, with Toril¡¯s new gear, one of their bills was practically obsolete. On top of that, I was aware of the competition''s flaws from the very start. Dire changes needed to be made. Though that wasn¡¯t to say that the situation couldn¡¯t be salvaged. We were only a week in, after all. Thus I went with the easiest method to pass along the information. A blackboard. Or an enchanted equivalent that wrote words of darkness in 3-D space.


    The first and simplest change was that they were now to build a single gauntlet or glove for Toril¡¯s right arm but with the same electromagnetic properties as the initial design. It was essentially a Maglock glove fueled by his own magic. A theory Ed proved to be true, thus opening up an entire field of study to delve down. MagiTech. That brought about the need for more changes. More bills. More textbooks. More lessons. For I needed engineers and craftsmen capable of making a wide variety of things. Everything from pocket watches to clocktowers; anything from jewelry to digital art; swords to howitzers; mud huts to arcologies; tribal robes to power armor; wheelbarrows to aircraft carriers. Thus, I deemed it necessary that they be tested on multiple things, multiple times throughout the four years of our stay.


    The deadline for Toril¡¯s gauntlets would be the first day of the new year. But so too would there be deadlines for clothes, jewelry, vehicles, watches, and a variety of tools and mechanics both common and industrial. At which time they¡¯d be assessed and a quarter of the tinkerers would be eliminated from the competition. Next year, they¡¯d receive new bills in each of the same categories; albeit in a sort of steampunk fashion, for their studies would evolve into the principles of electromechanics. They''ll learn of the glorious power found in steam and move on to make motors and rudimentary engines. Perhaps even some steam-powered vehicles before the end of that year. The following year, however, would be more theoretical in nature. Seeing as how the necessary infrastructure for electronics and later microelectronics to take hold, I imagined those years would be spent developing MagiTech theories, learning of the later tiers of technology, and refining the skills and techniques learned thus far.


    All of this would be facilitated by the elimination aspect of the competition. With the number of participants decreasing each year, it gave me more time to focus on assisting individuals, rather than a class. In turn, those that didn''t make it would still know infinitely more than virtually anyone else in the empire, giving them an edge when it comes to both starting a business and filling it with employees. Those that were curious but didn''t participate or were outright eliminated from the competition could then learn these concepts from their former classmates in the years to come. Thus I estimated my number of little engineers would increase by at least an order of magnitude in just one generation.


    And that was if I didn''t recruit anyone else in the years to come. A highly unlikely prospect.


    With the changes made and a few inspections done, I venture through the floors with the aim to settle another matter. I had to learn what I could about this horrid armor Grandpa Lich forced on me. So I appeared before his desk a few hours before our scheduled time to find him lounging behind his desk of chaos like always, reading a book without a title.


    ¡°I see you¡¯ve taken a liking to your new wear.¡± He said, his eyes still locked onto whatever he was reading.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Most of it.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not too sold on the armor if I¡¯m being honest.¡±


    ¡°It is necessary.¡± His eyes snapped to me. ¡°A demon will rip you apart without it, regardless of your magical prowess. Besides.¡± He grunted. Rose from his seat and stepped around his wide desk to place a bear paw of a hand on my shoulder. ¡°This is the key to unlocking the full potential of your Leech Hand. I am sure you understand, Amun.¡± He leaned close. Nearly touching his massive eye to mine. ¡°The consequence of the spell?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡± I backed away a bit, nodding. ¡°Constantly being broken and healed will strengthen my body beyond its normal limits. But it still won''t be enough for me to use more strength than my body can hold without it breaking. If I take too much strength, I won''t be able to move without breaking. This will negate that, I assume?¡± I grasped the helmet from my shadow and held it up to chest height. It resembled a skull made of my umbral necromancy. Waving pillars like the raging Flames of Moil rose from the brow like a crown. Complete with a crest of hourglass-shaped horns extending from the sides like ears. ¡°Will I even be able to move in this?¡± I turned back to him.


    ¡°It is.¡± He grimly nodded and made a ¡®gimme¡¯ motion towards my shadow. ¡°And you will.¡±


    I pulled out the rest of the suit before looking at him expectantly. He in turn, admirably eyed it for a good long moment before looking back to me and declaring. ¡°This Abyssal Armor has been passed down the generations. It is Upgraded by the finest artificer in the land before each new wielder. Thus it is imbued with more enchantments than all your weapons and clothes combined. Leech Hand. Shadow Step. Wraith Form and its counterpart. The same three enchantments found within your mask and more. Above them all are three essential functions.


    ¡°First and most importantly.¡± Grandpa raised a sole finger. ¡°This armor is powered by a Soul Drive. Without at least one soul in the core, you¡¯ll have to support the entirety of its weight. Though even you will still be able to carry it without one.¡± He condescendingly chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s made of a metal called Mithral. A non-ferrous metal, mined from Darkworld, deep underground. It¡¯s as durable as adamantine and far lighter than steel. On top of that, the metal is quite receptive to mana, thus it is imbued with our sorcery. With the proper soul, carrying it will be effortless. With ten average souls, the armor will be on par with your average athlete in terms of strength. With twenty, you¡¯ll enter the peak of human potential. At forty, you will reach that potential and begin stepping into the realm of superpowered abilities.¡±


    ¡°So in other words, this is the painless route.¡± I openly conjectured. ¡°The path that leads to me not having to spend time healing.¡±


    ¡°Precisely.¡± Grandpa Lich nodded. ¡°The seconds you spend healing could mean the difference between life and death. And it is much too early for you to become a living lich.¡±


    ¡°A what?¡± I blinked. But he gestured back to the armor, ignoring my inquiry entirely.


    ¡°Imprint it with your mana.¡±


    After scrutinizingly squinting at him for a long moment, I did as told and placed my free hand on the upper portion of the set before bleeding mana through my arm. The moment my mana touched the metal, it changed into a deluge of solid shade that flowed into the suit''s recesses until it overflowed, prompting shade tendrils to reach out for the legs, helmet, and spurred boots. Like something out of a horror game, the pieces stacked into place with loud clicks and clanks until an armored doppelganger was left standing in my face.


    ¡°This is the second essential function: Phantom Knight. A second doppelganger, essentially. One with impenetrable armor,¡± Grandpa Lich paused to grip the helm from the phantom¡¯s shoulders, leaving a pit of darkness atop the neck that slowly leaked shade into the surrounding environment. ¡°Try it on.¡±


    Begrudgingly but without a word, I took the helmet and began to pull it over my head. Only for it to dissolve into thin air and reform around my head naught a second later. And so too did the first half of the set. Dragging my arms and torso down just before greaves formed around my legs, forcing a bend in the knee. In the end. I felt¡­ like a tank. Nigh-invulnerable, painfully conspicuous, and dreadfully slow. Even once powered by a soul or even ten, I was unsure of how agile and flexible I¡¯d remain while wearing this thing.


    And then there was the matter of how it looked.


    Thankfully, however, taking it off was a similar endeavor as donning it. The entire thing just¡­ disappeared in a mist of shadow at will. Leaving me with a small sense of relief. At least I didn''t have to spend time fiddling with it. Or, with the Phantom Knight, even using it.


    ¡°Ghost Shroud.¡± Grandpa Lich declared as he handed me the matching seax. ¡°The set is never truly taken off. It is merely transferred to the Shadow Realm to act as a protective shroud for your soul. You will be immune both to cross-dimensional attacks and spell that change your shape- like the wizards who love to turn their foes into animals. And, as you''ve seen, you can summon the armor in an instant.¡±


    ¡°And this?¡± I held up the blade. Only for it to disappear into thin air as well.


    ¡°Death¡¯s Key.¡± He proudly declared, forcing a subtle groan from the depths of my bowels. ¡°Also a family heirloom. Capable of one extremely important thing.¡± He held up a finger, completely ignoring my displeasure. ¡°As its name implies, this blade can open a door to the Under. A portal. Used for finding the souls of corpses you find. Or to summon devils.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I slowly nodded. Then paused for a few moments to let it all soak in, as there was a lot. Daggers, spears, coats, armor, and dozens upon dozens of enchantments. So many in fact, that I hardly knew if I¡¯d be able to use them all. I definitely saw myself using my robes as common wear from now on, complete with the daggers. The Reaper could and would be used when appropriate. But even then, I was first and foremost, a sorcerer. Magic was my forte. Martial combat was only a contingency for me. Something to keep in the back pocket at all times or to use when magic wasn''t the best course of action. Which, upon considering how powerful I would become, would be more often than not. At the very least, it was something to use in the event of magic failing me. And so too would this armor, I decided. Something used sparingly. To prevent a life-threatening injury, at best.


    ¡°I¡¯m fascinated by the enchantments and everything.¡± I eventually sighed. ¡°But, I¡¯m still not sold on the armor. I can¡¯t see myself using it in battle. And I¡¯m neither a Death nor Void Knight. If anything, I fit the description of a monk or an artificer. And if I understand things correctly, monks cannot even wear armor.¡±


    Any sense of amusement or amiability left his face in that instant. In its place was a lip-curling sneer aimed directly at me. ¡°You seem to be misunderstanding this, Amun.¡± He growled. ¡°Your garb is used for battles. For combat. But this.¡± He jabbed his meaty finger into my ribs. ¡°This. Is for war. For conquest. You will not survive without it.


    ¡°Here!¡± His bear paw suddenly clamped around my wrist and pulled, ringing his office with resounding cracks of furniture as he flung me through everything between us and the window with a bloodcurdling roar.


    The office, the tower, and the man himself disappeared in the tumbling distance. Yet I heard his voice trailing behind me as clear as day. ¡°Let me show you what war is!¡±

 40 - Death Dealer

    The deafening roar of the wind, distant pain, and the blurred landscape before me began to smother my senses soon after Grandpa Lich''s voice echoed back to me. Fighting against nausea and pain, I struggled to manipulate air pillar after air pillar from my fingers and feet to kill my rotation.


    Now stabilized, I faced retrograde to quickly scan my surroundings. And uttered a gasp of disbelief. "Fuck." I turned, staring at the magnificence of the western coastline just below me. Ahead, Corvus Tower was but a black blot on the horizon, appearing as nothing more than a stick planted into the ground. However, coiled around it was an all too familiar sight. Grandpa Lich''s sky serpent. Poised like a knockoff of the Caduceus staff for a dreadfully long moment before its tail suddenly flicked.


    Another bloodcurdling scream echoed to my fragile being a split second later, shaking my very spirit into spawning the armor of its own volition just in time to see the enraged face of the Necro King Grandfather consuming my vision. Screaming madly before his hammer of a fist struck against the mithral plates like a church bell.


    I slammed against the Mortal Plane like a meteor that sent as much air and ichor into the air as dirt and dust. All the while the toiling bells quickened from the shower of rock and snow cascading into my little crater. A maddening cacophony, it was. And yet a subtle beat when compared to the thunderous boom of Grandpa Lich landing in the distance.


    I scrambled to my feet. But he crossed the distance with but a single stride to yoke me up by my neck and pull me closer to his sneer of dissatisfaction. Sneering back, I summoned my doppelganger and sort of, threw the armor onto him before funneling death mana through my fingers and into the old Lich''s wrists. His sneer turned to an amused grin at my bemusement. And then from a grin to a frown of annoyance as the loud smacks of the Phantom Knight''s assault began to overshadow his barbaric heaving.


    "You can try." Grandpa Lich cackled. Then paused as his head snapped to the side from the Phantom''s assault. "But- you cannot- steal- life- from a necromancer- without their- consent.


    "Now then." He grunted as an effortless push sent my armored clone flying dozens of meters away. Then reeled his fist away from my face.


    Releasing my grip around his wrist, I gathered the ambient mana in hand and quickly flung it toward his oncoming fist like a ball of pocket sand. It expanded into a tsunami-like wave the moment it was released, completely overpowering Grandpa Lich''s punch in ways that left it mangled, scarred, and scalding amidst a cloud of steam. Grandpa Lich''s mouth fell in bewilderment for a split second before his face curled into a grimace. His arm bent and twisted back into shape in a near-instant. Then, he tried again. I, however, capitalized on that moment to grasp a far larger field of mana and condense it as I would air. Just as his fist was about to impact with my open palm, a pillar of dense, blue-green energy erupted from my hand like a beam. Obliterating my grandfather''s arm up to the shoulder before it slammed into the ground with enough force to send soft quakes rolling down the coastline.


    I couldn''t help but grin as I followed Grandpa Lich''s gaze to plate-sized cigarette cherry glowing on the ground behind him. Up until the moment, he turned.


    I heard a roar. Then, the world tipped. Reality faded from existence for a time, and I awoke to find myself on my side. My ribs and organs pancaked between my shoulders, forcing my body fluids to equalize the pressure within in the only way physics would allow. Yet, even that didn''t last long, for the world suddenly jarred once again. Time skipped, sending me to a moment where I was filled with bilious pain and looking through my hazed vision at a black boot covered in bile. An oversized, pointed, and spurred boot with my bile, pulling away from my mangled ribs after it kicked me to eye level with the Necro King. My Great-Grandfather, Everandus Cole. Leaning into a punch that I was sure contained more than enough power to end me.


    ''Block.''


    Not even the word could be formed in my fleeting consciousness. Only the concept itself made its way through the mental fog in my mind. Nevertheless, umbral clouds condensed around my flesh in an instant. Shrouding me in my Abyssal Armor just before my forefather''s fist made contact.


    And so, I flew. Helplessly. Peacefully. Interrupted only by the distant toils of a bell as my velocity was occasionally slowed by the trees and rocks stretching between Grandpa Lich and my landing zone.


    "Ugh. This is no fun." I heard a distant grunt not long after I landed, spurring me to act through the numbing pain. Perhaps in vain, as I was still struggling to summon both my Doppelganger and the Phantom while Grandpa Lich waddled up to me to unceremoniously deliver the final blow.


    ---


    "You have grown accustomed to the pain. That is good."


    I fluttered my eyes open to see the grayed-out belly of a forest canopy staring back at me. Without putting much thought behind my actions, I sat upright and found myself holding my belly as if I had a stomachache. And then it came back to me.


    Looking around, I saw we were at the inner edge of the Tower''s Dead Zone. A line of broken trees, cracked rocks, and displaced snow stretched for leagues upon leagues; unpopulated by a single animal. To my front, Grandpa Lich was leaning against a tree. Staring at the colossal structure a few hundred meters away from us. Melancholia bleeding from his eyes like the death mana from his body.


    As for me, I was healed, but not healthy. Able to fight, but still plagued by aches and pains throughout my body. That became apparent once I pulled myself to my feet and approached Great Grandfather to accept his healing.


    "You took far less time than your Father did." He commented over his shoulder. But you still have yet to reach his level."


    "Seriously?" I asked in disbelief. "He''s that good? I heard he uses needles?"


    "Annoyingly so," Grandpa grunted, turned away from the tower, and began stroking his beard. "You may think of your father as helpless, Amun. However, he is anything but. He is quick and efficient. You." He lazily pointed to me. "Are flashy and experimental."


    "Aesthetics are important." I shrugged.


    "Aesthetics will get you killed." He quipped back. Then gestured to the Tower after assuming the Wrath Form. "Now then, what do you know of crime?"


    "Is that rhetorical?" I snorted.


    He stayed silent while guiding me through the walls and ground below the train station. We phased and phased through what felt like dozens of meters of solid stone before arriving in a wide, curved, and horrendously bland corridor, wherein he canceled the spell and turned his expectant look in my direction.


    "Despite the prosperity of the empire, crime still exists," I said. "That''s what I read, at least. But I''m sure it''s a lot worse. Even with your undead lurking in the shadows, people will kill and rape and kidnap."


    "It prides me that you aren''t naive like your counterpart." Grandpa chuckled a soft, thunder-like rumble down the hall.


    ''My counter- oh.'' I wondered, then mentally slapped my brain a split second after. ''The princess.''


    "It''s true that my undead act as a security force for the Empire. But even then, some still test the waters. Thus bringing us here." Spreading his arms like a show host, he guided me into a glass-walled lounge filled with rows upon rows of seats bearing both our family crest and what I assumed was the House of Deapou Crest. A massive, black mountain with lava leaking from the crater to settle into the shape of a claymore with a guard forged to mimic ox horns, standing on edge. "You see, we Maruleans crave violence." Grandpa Lich paused to lean against the glass and peer down with the same look in his eyes as before.


    Following his actions, I saw what could only be described as an underground colosseum. A 90-by-60-meter ovoid arena of volcanic rock formed a pit around black marble bleachers packed to the brim with roaring citizens. The field beneath them was littered with stone outcroppings, pools, streams, and several crates of oil; all contained by a 10-meter-high wall serving as the foundation for a thick dome of enchantment-studded glass. The same type of glass found in our skybox and the ones just like it, I presumed, for the other bigwigs of the Empire.


    "As much as society tries to convince us otherwise, it is true. It is inescapable. A factor of our creation in this realm. It is part of what it means to be Marulean; not just human: to have a natural inclination- a natural hunger for violence. Some wish to view it from afar. They passively observe violence from a safe place or read milder descriptions of it in tales of adventure. Others." Grandpa Lich wordlessly gestured to the masses gathered below. "Others wish to experience it for themselves. They are the ones who go off to join militaries, mercenary companies, and guilds. Regardless of the type, our need for conflict is comparable to our need for sustenance, Amun. The problem is." He sighed. "Society gives us morals. In turn, we make excuses to justify our actions against those morals. Differences in species, class, beliefs, magical abilities. Any and everything can and will be used as an excuse to end another''s life. The denizens of the other realms need no such excuses. Those in Betrarth kill because it is their nature. Those beyond the White Wall kill indiscriminately. Those in the Inner Reaches kill for pleasure. Those from Youtera kill out of necessity. We kill for all these reasons and more.


    "Thus it is places like these where we can satiate our bloodlust. Here, and in every city in the Empire, are fight clubs, magical tournaments, and in some cases, deathmatches. Here, those who love the fight can prove their mettle. And most importantly." Grandpa turned to lean towards me, a grim and maniacal grin spread across his sculpted face. "Here is where even the scum of the planes can die with some dignity. In this way, we can kill an entire flock of birds with but a single volley."


    ''That''s not how the saying goes, but I get your point.'' I sighed under the cover of his boisterous laughter and waited for him to calm down before asking, "I assume I''m to fight here?"


    "correct." He quickly nodded. "You are to be the executioner of five. Here are their charges." He threw me a stack of papers; a stack I immediately sat on the chair beside me.


    "I only need to know the rules," I said. "Them being after my life is reason enough for me to fight."


    Juxtaposed with his prideful grin was a stern growl emanating from his very core as he turned to me and said. "This is a deathmatch, Amun! The only rule is that you are to be the only one left standing. Though it shall be stated. Anyone you kill shall be added to your collection. It is time you start raising the dead."


    "Very well." I peered through the window to study the arena and settle upon a course of action. Once settled, I dipped into the Shadow Realm and waited for Grandpa Lich''s hand to enter the umbral dimension and give me the thumbs up.


    Upon stepping back into reality, I was greeted by the muffled cacophony of the crowd and the ecstatic voice of an announcer roaring above the domed ceiling. I tuned out the roar at once and scanned what I could of the arena before the bell toiled. Not spotting anyone in the vicinity, however, I picked an ambiguous direction and started walking. Waddling across the arena as if I hadn''t a care in the world.


    It didn''t take long for someone to approach from the side, screaming like an idiot with a club held out to his side. Stopping in place, I withdrew mana from my well and pulled it through the entirety of my core before allowing the resulting energy to flood every fiber of my being. Seemingly forcing the tree-like branches of my magical mark to go through a growth spurt and spread across my body as a second skin. Much like the club making contact with my back, every molecule of air and bit of stone touching my skin at that moment simply vanished on the spot; or rather, was sent to the void. I began sinking just as my assailant spun off balance. Simultaneously, wave after wave of displacing air began cascading toward me, forcing me to cancel the spell as quickly as I could and step out of the literal hole I''d dug for myself.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    By the time I recovered, my assailant was on his knees, scrambling for what was left of his weapon. With death mana in hand and a mind filled with thoughts of adding the unbridled power of his soul to my body, I bounded toward him. His face curdled with annoyance before his eyes widened with fear. He began to back away. Faster and faster as I raced closer and closer and slid to a knee to leap up and grasp his face. My hand hardly fit around his nose and jaw; nevertheless, his body froze the moment my death mana touched him. Unsurprisingly, his body refused to even budge as I tried to lift and pull, despite how relatively scrawny he was. Though that quickly changed once my death mana seeped far enough into him.


    His skin quickly began paling, wilting, and stretching over his bones while the necrotic energy within him took on a blood-red hue. On my next pull, that hue served to detach my assailant''s essence- his soul from his very body. Like a wailing ghost or someone Astral Projecting. Only¡­ angrier. Burning. Raging. Screaming and whispering demands in the back of my consciousness as it melded into my body to empower every fiber of my being. Supercharging every muscle in my body, from the eyelids, down to the heart. Within seconds, lifting him by the face was an effortless, if not painless, task. Punctuating the last, rasped breath to escape his lungs as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.


    Unprompted, my grimoire appeared and unfurled its pages to the blank sheets following False Life, and new letters quickly began forming on the left page.


    [Burning Souls] - Are stolen souls that have fallen into a state of madness after death. For a time, their unbridled rage can be channeled into you, giving you their strength. And madness. 1 = 23:59:59]


    I let him fall and took a moment to get a feel for the changes brought about by this Burning Soul. Of which there were many. I felt some distant pain while clenching and unclenching my fists a few times. Both from the latent pain from my earlier beating and my overcharged muscles splitting my bones and tendons apart with each flex. It was much the same as False Strength but could be turned on or off at will. And rather than continuously increasing the amount of strength I had, additional souls only increased the time frame. Allowing me to remain at the limits of my physicality no matter how many souls I absorbed. Or, at least, that was the theory.


    Eager to test said theory, I set off to find my next target. I found her after a few minutes of aimless wandering. A particularly burly woman with a low cut, hiding behind a stone outcropping with her back to me.


    ''Perfect.'' I grinned. Lunging towards her at once. But the arena seemed to warp toward me after my initial kick off the ground. With my second lunge, the surroundings blurred and a billowing tempest blew across my frame with the third stride. Within mere moments, I was entering close quarters, kicking off the ground a final time with my arm cocked back and ready to strike.


    Up until the moment my fist sprung forth, she stood her ground. Waited, and casually pulled her head aside at the last second. She jumped away in the next instant, leaving my arm with no target but the stone she''d been hiding behind.


    A condescending, satisfactory grin crawled over her face upon seeing my arm implode and splinter into a web of jagged bone. Yet it quickly faded to horror once she saw me lunging after her, sweeping my splintered arm across her shoulders and neck with wild abandon. She fell on the ground without resistance and rolled as if she were on fire, screaming and clutching her face while her legs kicked childishly. Being unwilling to pass up an opening, I swept my splintered bones across her face once more, leaving her with a final scar to despair over while I activated Leech Hand in my foot, followed by False Life, and waited until my arm twisted itself back into its former shape. I continued leeching life from her until I was back in pristine condition and gave her a final stomp on the nape to finally end her. Nearly sending my foot flying with the shards of bone and clumps of gray matter raining everywhere.


    With her out of the way, I turned about to search for my next opponent. Only to come face to face with a miniature sun.


    Without thinking, I released the void and molded the energy into a bubble around my body. Encapsulating me in a seemingly infinite domain that appeared to expand around me in all directions. On closer inspection, it felt as if I''d been reduced to an insignificant size within this... Void Egg. Like I''d been placed in the center of an immense, starless cosmos. On a tiny planet that had the arena as its sky and its occupants as constellations. To my front was the cone of fire I''d seen earlier. Dimmed to tolerable levels by the empty expanse surrounding me. I waited, watched, and listened as a few flaming barrels came flying in from my sides. Crashing against the stone to splash the black sludge into a blazing pool around me.


    Subconsciously, my lips curled into an amiable grin derived from sheer pleasure at the sight. Seeking more, I gathered shadow mana in my hand and broke through the shell with a swing of an arm as if I were opening a door. Casting out the darkness in my hand to inflect the inferno with the flames of Moil. Within seconds, the deep chill pouring off the flames caused the surrounding stone to chip and crack violently. Causing the gang of three to hesitate or in some cases, flee after seeing columns of umbral mist rise and gather on the ceiling as if it were smoke.


    ''Let''s try this again.'' I infused my skin, musculature, and skeletal system with shadow mana. Not quite meeting the conditions for Wraith Form; but activating Black Armor, Black Thew, and Black Bones before I lunged at the fire-throwing bastard. Much like the woman from before, he stood in place before jumping aside at the last moment to watch me break my leg against the ground and potentially counter-attack. I, however, bounced like a tire after kicking the ground where he''d been standing. Rising more than a few meters off the ground, I thrust out my right palm, manipulating a batch of mana into a flame that was then turned into a torch with the application of an air pillar from my left hand. The resulting column of blue-white flame screeched through the arena like a dragon''s roar and slammed into the top of his head like a shock wave, forcing him into a squat.


    Similarly, the same force was applied to my arm, acting to halt my descent and even send me flying toward the ceiling. In an effort to fight against the force, I oriented myself into a handstand position before lowering the output. Slowly, I began to descend toward my target, still staring at me with a stick smile on his face; even as he strained to remain standing beneath my pillar of fire. His clothes curled into charred rolls of fabric as he stayed there, enduring my blast. Yet his body was fine. Because of course, a fire mystic''s body would be.


    Eager to add such a being to my collection, I killed the torch and dove to deftly roll to my feet just out of range. He, in turn, took a moment to relax his posture and tilt his head up to actually laugh at my failed attack.


    I tried to subdue it, but the heat rose from the depths of my bowls. Before I knew it, my nostrils were flaring, my amiable grin was lost and I found myself lunging forward, grasping a far larger mass of condensed air than I''d otherwise use. With a final kick off the ground, my anger, or perhaps the soul''s rage reached its peak. And I screamed at the top of my lungs.


    Due to misjudging my strength, or from my rage, or perhaps both, I came in far too fast and nearly rammed him like an elephant charging a safari truck. To compensate, I widened the radius of the air cannon to cover his entire body and broke the seal. Triggering a horrendous hiss to blast the two of us apart, leaving waves of dust and shattered rock to billow out in our wake. While I was able to promptly slow my momentum with a web of manipulated mana, my opponent continued arcing across the arena until he tumbled right into an outcropping. Splitting his body into two dissimilar parts that trailed separate ways.


    "Dammit," I swore under my breath, hoping that didn''t prevent me from creating a shadow. But not for long, as my thoughts seemed to drift away from undead to something a little more¡­ ghastly.


    "Blood." We growled.


    I noticed a sudden clarity in my mind as I turned and, almost habitually, gazed up to the cloud of darkness above to give it a Shadow Bullet. Synonymous with the thoughts echoing in the back of my mind, the mass of umbral smoke began condensing into a massive sphere that soon became riddled with lidless draconic, colored the same abyssal black and noxious white as the script in my grimoire. It began spasming at once. Darting back and forth to shift the focus of its many eyes to the various points of interest beneath it. Attempting to follow its gaze, I lowered my eyes and immediately detected movement. Then, I paused.


    Through the shadow of a random stone, I saw a bird''s eye view of the last two competitors, evidently arguing with each other.


    "Death!" We growled- nay, screamed with pleasure at the sight, and crouched. Flexing every fiber of our being in preparations to leap; yet, such energy was wasted, as a column of umbral smoke poured over us in the next instant.


    Another wave of clarity washed over me and I found myself falling. Plummeting towards the debating duo at terminal velocity.


    I was nearly to target when one of them noticed me, pointed, and screamed before pushing his companion and himself away with a burst of air. Despite missing my target, I couldn''t help but regain my amiable smile as a result of my Black Bones and Skin wondrously absorbing the shock of my landing, transforming a bit of the energy of my impact into a stinging pain in the soles of my feet. Consequently, the rest of that energy was transformed into elastic potential energy that was subsequently released, rocketing me into the back of the man trying to distance himself.


    We split apart just as fast as my shoulder made contact with the center of his shoulder blades, adding the percussive sound of splitting bone and the unholy choirs of horrid screams to the already chaotic ambiance of the arena. After using mana to once again kill my velocity, I approached the poor soul I violently rear-ended and picked him up by the neck to Leech enough Life to repair my shoulder. Then, I paused to subdue the whispers and finalize a revised version of this spell before the floodgates of death mana opened once again.


    Like before, the soul detached as his eyes rolled back and the last, rasped breath escaped his lungs. Yet this one held a greenish-white hue and condensed into a pinpoint of light that fell into an orbit around my affinity core, cueing more ethereal white lines to morph into place in my grimoire. The book itself seemed to open wider, flattening the pages until the seam in the middle disappeared completely, making space at the top for a new name while the name of the spell I just made took its place on the right page, next to the Burning Souls entry.


    [Soul Stealer] - The act of stealing souls from mortal beings and using them as either Burning Souls, for physical empowerment; or as Aegis Souls, that die in your place.]


    [Aegis Souls] - are captured souls that have been met with benevolence and empathy after passing, granting them the ambition to die in place of another.]


    Following the whispers, we slowly stepped toward the last participant. He, in turn, remained frozen in place. Undoubtedly terrified from the Flames of Moil still burning and the others being strewn about here and there. And yet, he courageously stood his ground with his guard up high. As expected of a man similar in stature to my Great-Grandfather.


    Embracing the energy swelling within me, I sneered at him as my Abyssal Armor shrouded my body. Then, we both lunged.


    Even with my arms coated in spurred plates, he swung with wild abandon. Consequently, my armor was splattered with blood as his attacks were easily blocked and parried again and again until the attacks slowed. And with a final, defiant scream, he pulled back his mangled fist to send it hurtling right at my neck.


    After casually backhanding it away, I grasped the back of his head with one hand. Then ended the match with a deafening, wet squelch. While his body went limp and his skull was indeed shattered. He wasn''t quite dead yet. Thus I wasn''t yet finished.


    Infusing my gauntlets with death mana, I grasped the man''s face and began prying his soul from his body. Unlike before, an ethereal wail seemed to throb in my mind as the life left his eyes and his soul began to appear above his corpse. And once free, the throbbing seemed to intensify. The wailing grew louder and louder as the incorporeal hand seemed to merge with my gauntlets. Followed by the soul''s arms with the armor''s arms, the legs, and on and on until the screams scratched the very fabric of my mind. In turn, the Burning Soul raged and fought back against the intrusion until the very moment it assimilated into the armor, reducing the feral screams to but a whisper in my helmet.


    With the armor now powered, a literal weight had been removed from my shoulders. A stark difference in comparison to the heavy wool it felt like earlier. Now, it was almost as if the umbral nerves and musculature were extensions of my body. Or rather, like the membrane was filled with the musculature of the corpse lying in front of me. I felt like the vital organs of some exotic insectoid. Like I was trapped inside a cocoon of umbral muscle and bound within a spurred carapace of mithral.


    [Burning Soul: 1=23:59:26.]


    My grimoire folded shut and disappeared as I canceled the spell. Only then, did I hear the muffled cheers of the spectators above. Only for them, did I raise my arms triumphantly before stepping into the Shadowfell and taking off my armor. Arriving in the skybox next to my grandfather a moment later, I saw only a grin mixed with both pride and frustration.


    "You put on quite a show. A massacre, really." He patted me on the shoulder, looking through the window. "The crowd is pleased. But, you should''ve taken more souls.


    "What''s done is done, though." He sighed moments later, assuming his Wraith Form to phase through the walls. "You''ll have the chance to get more next weekend," He said as we arrived at the edge of the Tower''s Dead Zone and took on his physical form. Inviting me to do much the same. "For now, we continue your education in war!" He spread his arms wide as if he were announcing the start of a grand show. A gesture that spread a vast pool of shadow from his feet that quickly grew to span my entire field of view. Coating the powdered forest with a thick, umbral soup that rippled, coalesced, and condensed into a wall of shadow undead.


    Thousands upon thousands upon tens of thousands of them. All staring voraciously at me.

 41 - War

    "Jeez! Fuck!" I gasped as I turned back to an undead minotaur barreling through a tree as if it were a rotten stick.


    The semi-umbral beast continued for two more thunderous paces before sliding to an abrupt halt to stand ominously still for a long moment. Only to jerk its fist over its shoulder towards the west. Towards the Tower, hundreds of kilometers away.


    While I then took a moment to catch my breath, the minotaur simply stepped into the shade of a nearby tree and disappeared. As did the countless goblins, orcs, trolls, and other unearthly creatures that''d been stampeding behind it.


    With a sigh, I assumed my Wraith Form to take flight. And immediately, my mind began recounting everything that''d transpired since we left the Tower''s dungeon for the first time some four years ago.


    The days passed much as they had before. And yet, they were completely different. My vassals awoke with the sun and went about their studies as usual. And after, they''d proceed with training the students. Meanwhile, I spent my days in the most remote reaches of the mainland. Tirelessly warring against the Necro Army. For hours upon hours, I battled, ran, and rested to eat and regain strength, only to lather, rinse, and repeat such processes for the entirety of the day and well into the night. Rarely would Grandpa Lich fight me after sundown. Yet he would always appear after midnight for some course or class revolving around necromancy.


    It was like a massive game of chess, our war. The first loss came from the very minotaur that was just chasing me, and it happened in the opening seconds of the war. A hunchbacked, club-bearing, ridiculously strong, and agile creature appeared on the front lines of the umbral army and impatiently lunged forth to literally punch me through the gut.


    It was at that moment, that I realized the true extent of our training.


    This was a real war.


    The gaping hole in my belly had been sealed at once by my one and only Aegis Soul, forcing me to switch between my armor and my garbs until I managed to get away. However, even with a soul powering the armor, my attacks did next to no physical damage to anything stronger than a hobgoblin. Though, my weapons and magic were a much different story.


    Undead were of course, immune to necrotic spells. Nevertheless, my blades were able to slice through their semi-umbral flesh with ease. Thus I spent hours upon hours hacking off appendages, impaling creatures, taking off heads, and generally stacking body after undead body without relenting. In turn, each mangled, crippled, or half-broken undead would simply stop in place and sink into a pool of shadow at their feet. Signaling their death.


    Such a routine continued until my Burning Soul had been used up, forcing me to resort to hit-and-run tactics or guerrilla warfare. Regardless, they kept coming. They kept chasing. They kept engaging. Relentlessly. Forcing me to use up more and more energy until I had to run more than I did hit. Up until the time my Grandfather decided to end the exercise.


    I saw him the moment his balcony came into focus. His massive frame, standing on the handrail, his bear-sized fists resting on his hips while he proudly observed my approach. He turned to me, grinning wide when I came to a landing. I was congratulated for my efforts and sent off to retire for the night with a firm pat on the back.


    More or less the same schedule met me the following week, or tenday, as they were called. I''d take classes, train, or check on the tinkerers until the time for Toril''s training came around. Then, I''d spectate and supervise until sunset prompted the start of combat training with Grandpa Lich, followed by lessons in our sorcery until dawn. By the weekend, I''d be back in the Tower''s dungeon to steal more souls. Followed by 48 hours of warring against the Necro Army.


    Much the same continued every week and every month thereafter until the beginning of a new year came. By then, Toril declared the students were ready to begin learning Elemental Fusion. And it was at that time that my vassals and I received changes to our blocks of instruction. For starters, each of us received both traditional and flying mounts; with one of mine being permanent and all of theirs being temporary. We spent the entirety of that year learning how to ride and fight atop them. Additionally, we either continued or started learning how to perform with voice and instruments. On top of that, Toril began accompanying Grandpa Lich in his office while I was warring against his Necro Army. Reportedly to point out and explain the movements of his units and my reactions to them. Jaimess, on the other hand, began taking the alchemy classes he so desperately wanted to take in the form of an apprenticeship with Urda. And so too did he start shadowing several officials and politicians working in other areas of the Tower. Meanwhile, Jonet started taking her acting to a higher level during the day and spent her nights working alongside the spies and undead patrol forces working in odd places in the Empire during the night.


    As for the tinkerers, I extended their deadline to the second week of the year; something I decided to do only this once, as our schedule changes were rather abrupt. At the end of that week, though, I had them put their wares on anonymous display to be reviewed, before booting out the six, lowest-scoring competitors. Their second set of bills consisted of a pocket watch and a formal set of clothes with jewelry, both in any style they prefer; on top of a steam engine and a self-powered vehicle of any type. A natural progression from the grandfather clocks, casual wear, and machining tools they''ve been making thus far. Additionally, I gave them instructions to make a jet-powered board that I designed, with a nozzle that could be powered with fire, air, or water manipulation. Something that became quite a popular item in the entirety of the Tower''s economy once all the different models were up for grabs at the end of that year.


    The third year started with the dozen or so remaining tinkerers being told to make a wristwatch, a crown, a complete set of any type of armor, and a weapon. Alongside two more items: Any type of musical instrument they preferred, and a piece of infrastructure. Be it a road, house, or bridge. To that end, Grandpa Lich was kind enough to loan some skeletal workers to allow the tinkerers to take on the role of a foreman or project lead. More importantly, however, that year marked the end of my necromantic lessons and marked the start of a yearlong war against the Necro Army with Toril; and later, the other two, by my side.


    Eight days a week, we''d play a sort of chess game against the undead legions. Wherein we''d battle a platoon or company of the undead forces and take their territory if we won. Then, we''d fortify it and use it as a forward operating base, observation post, staging ground, or some other aid for our mock expansion across the Empire. Throughout that entire time, the students continued to train in the arts Toril taught them. After a year and a half of continuing their lessons in Elemental Fusion, they went on to master the very flight skills my vassals spent the last few years developing. Once my vassals joined my campaigns, though, the students were more or less allowed to train in whatever they felt themselves lacking during their after-school lessons. Most of them trained on their own or in groups. However, some of them took it upon themselves to begin training the students in the grades below theirs. An admirable endeavor, in my opinion.


    Regardless of what they chose to do after classes though, come the weekends, the entire class of students was placed under my command to receive the same harsh training I''d been subjected to for the last three years. As per my request. The result was 556 soon-to-be graduates who were more or less just as self-reliant, nearly as well-trained, and just as experienced as my vassals. Which in turn, equated to at least five companies to take command of, in just a few years'' time. Assuming they all sought me out in the future. Even if they didn''t, though, that was five companies worth of individuals who would guide this land to greater prosperity.


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    Time well spent, if I do say so myself.


    ---


    30th of Luxortia, 1489. (13th month.)


    ---


    "So, we''re really doing this?"


    Toril and I simultaneously turned toward the source of the voice. Toward Jaimess, standing next to a branch with a bowl in hand. Tilted slightly so as to allow the small flock of paper birds to dip their beaks into the red paste. It was the last step in a process that left the otherwise dull origami creatures vibrantly colored and filled with crushed stone, powers, and other materials.


    "Why wouldn''t we?" Toril spat before I could say anything. "It''s the last run."


    Jaimess'' arm remained outstretched as he turned to Toril, and spat back. "Exactly. His Imperial Majesty surely anticipates us attacking the big one. If you haven''t noticed, there''s only the four of us this time."


    "Four is enough." I quickly quipped, silencing the both of them. "Besides, we have no choice. The timer on our little game is running out. And, I''m sure my Great-Grandfather will be the one to move first."


    As if to prove my point, a sudden rift in the snow arced from the woodline to trace around our position and rise into a wave of curved, slanted ice. Signaling the arrival of Jonet, riding atop the wave like a speed skater.


    "He''s coming." She panted, sliding to a halt. Prompting Toril to immediately turn to me.


    "Do you have a plan?"


    "I need you to immobilize him and cover our movements on the ground while you use your birds to distract him." I pointed to Jonet and Jaimess respectively before turning to Toril to hand him a slingshot and a palm-sized, hollow stone. "While he''s occupied, I need you to pick up as much speed as you can and shoot this at his chest. I''ll take care of the rest."


    Toril spent a moment of silence by thumbing the pinhole of his ammo before grunting softly, looking up at me, and softly shaking his head. "Won''t work." He grunted, yet took the weapon anyway. "He''ll swat me like a fly."


    "Fire before he does. If he tries to swat me, I''ll void it." I shook my head back and pointed at the abyss-black enchantment on the blade of my spear. "All you have to do is your part."


    There was a slight wince in his left eye as I said those last words. A wince that exclaimed his disgruntlement or disagreement with my orders; nevertheless, he silently nodded and stood aside to wait while I summoned the Umbral Oculus.


    Once the multi-eyed sphere was twitching away in the night sky, I placed a bit of darkness in the pebble to squeeze through the pinhole in Toril''s ammo. Wherein I marveled at the cosmic scale of the void-inspired Umbral Egg while I waited.


    After investing a little time for refinement after its creation and giving it a name, the Umbral Oculus wound up becoming a type of shadow... creature capable of reverse-scrying; wherein anything caught in its line of sight would be transmitted and displayed to any shadow in my line of sight like a media screen. The limiting factor, of course, was direct light; inside which, it could not exist. On the contrary, however, it retained the ability to force me to Shadow Step to any place it or I could see on my command. It was an invaluable reconnaissance spell that proved its worth when I finally defeated that minotaur, two years ago. Now, it was proving its worth yet again by giving me a real-time feed of the battlefield.


    As I ordered, Jonet was skating towards the target, gathering as much snow and ice as she could in her wake while Jaimess constantly spawned bird after bird to race through his materials staged at our main base. Once as vibrant and loaded as the rest of them, they joined the flock chasing after the receding avalanche with wild abandon. Ten minutes or so later, the Oculus began to follow, leaving me and Toril in place amidst the sounds of fluttering paper. Waiting for the minute of might.


    It didn''t take long.


    While the ''Queen'' of our Empire-wide chess match was indeed my Grandpa Lich, he deemed himself a non-participant from the very start. Leaving only the ''King'' in his place. A shadow undead storm giant.


    Since I was first driven away from the Tower at the start of the game, the giant spent his time placidly seated atop a large outcropping roughly thirty kilometers from the eastern edge of the Tower''s Dead Zone. Now, he was ducking under the clouds just to track Jonet racing over the ground, guiding an avalanche that encompassed the entire clearing behind her as she willed it to condense into a massive shard churning behind her like a freight train. Meanwhile, swarm after swarm of vibrant, origami birds gathered in the sky above her, undoubtedly blocking the giant''s view of Jonet and shifting its gaze to the flocks of paper diving towards its arms, knees, and neck; wherein they mimicked their natural counterparts and dive bombed their aggressor in ways that struck their flint-covered beaks, igniting the alchemical cocktail of kindling, explosives, and gunpowder their master had been feeding them.


    From the Umbral Oculus'' vantage point, the night turned to day in a veritable instant, nearly forcing the spell to end as a series of fireballs combusted in a line up the giant''s side. The force was enough to reel it back on a single leg; a leg Jonet then skated by with her ice train in tow and on an intercept course to shear the giant''s knee clean off the leg.


    Jonet disappeared into the woodline, covered by a roar greater than any thunderstorm I''d ever heard. A much louder one came when the giant fell- toppled over the massive shard and ectoplasmic goo below him until Jonet permeated the night with a similar scream. Only her scream held the power of ice. And it shattered the structure an all-encompassing cloud of mist, reformed and bonded against the remnants of the giant leg.


    "Now, Toril!"


    Through the multi-paneled screen inside my little stone, I saw Toril nod resolutely before grasping the slingshot in hand and charging himself with lightning mana. Then, he disappeared. Only sparks were left in his wake as Toril raced towards the ''King'' at the literal speed of lightning. Forcing the Umbral Oculus to twitch ever faster between eyes to keep up with his movements.


    Within moments, we crossed a distance that took Jonet and Jaimess'' birds upwards of twenty minutes to traverse. A second later and we were within the cloud of mist. Toril grasped the slingshot in hand and canceled his spell, allowing his momentum to carry his now-materialized body while he fired. And from within, I emerged, shrouded in my Void Skin and rocketing over the foot of a colossal old man with ice-gray skin and a chalky, white beard. His head began swaying madly the moment he laid eyes on me. Toppling the great, blackwood trees in the Dead Zone like someone breaking through high brush as he scrambled.


    With a deafening roar, his body spasmed and his hand found itself behind me. As Toril said, the giant was fast enough to even swat him. But that meant little to the Void.


    I took a small glance at the me-sized hole in the center of his palm before I held out my hands behind me, allowing darkness to trail in my wake. From the umbral stream came the Shadowsteel Reaper, and from within, came the activation of my Burning Souls; bringing about the chorus of maddening whispers and scratches at the back of my mind. Clenching my teeth against the strain, I let the haft extend more and more into the river of shadows flowing in my wake until eventually, I felt the Touch of Darkness take hold of the weapon, permitting me to channel a bit of void into the hidden mechanism. Once bent into the shape of its namesake, it took on the same form as the Spectral Blade, only composed of that unbridled entropic energy.


    As I reeled back, the energy arced forward, forming a point of nothingness that remained beside me, even as the haft reached the apex of its ascent. As I began to swing, the whispers grew ever louder. The rage burned ever brighter, and together, they conjured the maddening movie that''s been plaguing my dreams since my birth in this universe and sent that madness arcing through the center of the giant''s frame.


    The Void Dragon''s Claw bisected the undead giant with no resistance, bisecting both him and the land beneath him. The barren permafrost; exposed to fresh air for the first time in ages from Jonet''s assault, was immediately overpressured by the pool of magma bursting forth from leagues below, sending untold quantities of frigid stone and scalding water to flow into the ravine in an attempt to equalize the temperature. Then... I was gone.


    Momentum saw fit to carry me far. And I let it. I sent my spear into my shadow and flipped in midair to face retrograde before canceling every spell except the Burning Souls. With that and my armor protecting my body, I simply stared and waited for the approaching ground to meet me. A few felled trees and a rolling series of thunderous booms later, I''d slid to a halt near the western end of the Dead Zone. Wherein I immediately gazed up at the small protrusion of Grandpa Lich''s balcony, far, far above. Only to hear a deep, bear-like growl radiate from behind me.


    I turned toward it once. My arms spread to my sides and my face cramped upwards into a grin that I was sure would be permanent if it stayed any longer. Still, though, I gave respect where respect was due and bowed. Grinning and all. "We win."

 42 - My Little Tinkerers

    ¡°I win.¡±


    ¡°You owe me a storm giant.¡± Grandpa Lich spat, scowled, and threw his arm toward the Tower in a rude gesture. ¡°Now, get your vassals and go to sleep. The graduation ceremony is tomorrow.¡±


    I fought back my grin and bowed as he stepped off into a nearby shadow. Leaving me in the dead, cold forest with a permanent, prideful smile plastered across my face while I waited for my vassals to trickle in one by one. Together, we returned to my wing on the guest floor to celebrate our years of hard work coming to a fruitful end. We ate, shared stories, took turns playing music and singing, and laughed at Toril and Jaimess¡¯ comical dancing until the sun began to rise over the Mortal Plane. Much like the students on the floors below, celebrating their upcoming graduation from the prestigious Corvus Academy.


    I awoke around noon and made myself a quick breakfast before emerging from my wing. Only to take an immediate step back inside.


    ¡°So many people.¡± I groaned, peering beyond the edge of my private threshold. Parents and families; hundreds of them, were strewn all about the guest floor. Migrating in and out of the rows of shade elevators or flocking around the hundreds of wings and annexes lining the expansive perimeter of the floor. Before I turned around, some were even approaching the edge of my ¡®driveway¡¯ to pay their respects. Hastily, I bowed back into my wing and sealed the crowd of expectant and excited faces behind the door. And with a deep sigh of relief, I assumed my Wraith Form to ascend to the upper floors in private.


    ¡°Pardon the intrusion,¡± I said after briskly knocking and stepping into my Grandfather¡¯s office.


    ¡°I have nothing more to teach you, Amun.¡± He grunted without even shying his eyes away from whatever he was writing.


    ¡°Except proper necromancy, that is.¡± I snorted.


    A cold gaze darted up to me and immediately settled back down on the few papers scattered over his desk. ¡°Once you graduate from the academy and learn to raise undead on your own, you will learn higher necromancy. For now.¡± He sighed. ¡°You are to return home. But only after the ceremony.¡±


    ¡®Still salty, I see.¡¯ I internally chuckled, lowering myself in a formal bow. ¡°Thank you for everything, Grandpa Lich.¡± I genuinely smiled. "I had fun."


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± He dismissively waved, his gaze still focused on his desk.


    With that, I descended to the 72nd floor; to the tinkerers¡¯ workshop, wherein I found Jaimess barring the six candidates'' entry from the place.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Your Grace." They bowed in unison upon my appearance.


    ¡°Jaimess.¡± I nodded to him, then to the rest. ¡°Everyone. Congratulations on your imminent graduation from Corvus Academy, and on making it to the final round of our competition. As always.¡± I continued after a short pause. ¡°I¡¯ll be taking my time to go over each display. The caveat, however, is that I¡¯ll be announcing the winners during tonight¡¯s ceremony. Regardless of who wins.¡± I added with a raised finger. ¡°Remember that one day, I will return to Odissi to recruit people for my guild. Missing this chance is not the end of the road. So.¡± I gave a closing bow. ¡°Thank you for all of your efforts. And I will see you all tonight.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Grace!¡± They resolutely bowed before slowly scattering. Leaving Jaimess and me by our lonesome.


    ¡°We¡¯re departing for Deap Ridge tomorrow morning.¡± I turned to him. ¡°Tell the others to have their things packed and to get as much rest as possible, both before and after the ceremony. We have a long journey ahead of us.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± He curtly nodded, then stepped off down the hall at a brisk pace. Leaving me in a perfect environment to assess the displays.


    I stepped in to see more of an empty classroom setting rather than the modulated workshop they¡¯d been working in thus far. The space contained only six display cases, placed side-by-side. Each with a small glass case on the right side, containing four watches and a coat rack beside it, while the spaces behind them were reserved for the larger creations.


    As it¡¯d been the first year and every round thereafter, each candidate had been instructed to transcribe the features of their creations and chose a number that was to be kept between themselves and Jaimess. Jaimess would then transcribe those summaries in his own handwriting, and add them with the numbers associated with each anonymous display. Reducing the potential for biases or favoritism to come into play during the judging process. Thus the judgment was as blind as could be.


    As for the bills themselves, I gave them instructions even a troglodyte could understand. Yet they would test all they learned in the three fields of watchmaking, tailoring, and engineering. All they were told was to make it with the highest possible quality. But of course, there was more to the criteria. Namely, bonus points would be given for aesthetics and creativity. Something that few seemed to take into consideration in the first couple of years, much to my disappointment. I was all for things being functional, but aesthetics were just as important. Only the most industrialist of people would openly choose an ugly something that worked simply, over a beautiful creation that simply worked. Something that the tinkerers began to realize for themselves, as time went on.


    As planned, I was now faced with the best the graduating class had to offer. Making me all the more excited to finally decide who my little tinkerers would be.


    For my would-be tailor, I had them design a conceptual equipment loadout and uniform design for my future guild. Of the six, five of them ranged from outlandish armor and hefty bags to a simple but beautiful quilted tunic, trousers, and bug-out bag combo; though, it was the sixth one that particularly stood out to me.


    For all intents and purposes, it was exactly what I¡¯d envisioned when I pictured a member of my guild: Something along the lines of a magical, modern soldier. The clothes were similar to my garb. The bottom consisted of a pair of somewhat baggy, gray pants, tucked into a pair of black suede, minimalist boots. On top, was a silken shirt with quilted stitches, yet the sleeves were made of some type of tough, denim-like material and fashioned with sew-in points for patches, insignia, and name tags. It was essentially a combat shirt. Meant to be worn under whatever armor the individual favored. It even came with a dress version, adorned with gilded accents along the shoulders and collar.


    What was most interesting, however, were the accessories the uniform came with. The creator seemed to not only guess that I intended for these designs to be enchanted at some point, but they also took the suggestions and techniques I deposited on all the competitors to heart. The result of their drive was a rather compact rucksack with a duffel-style opening strapped to an ergonomic frame. On the front was a medium-sized pouch with a smaller one placed on top of it, both secured by leather-wrapped buckles and lined with MOLLE webbing along the front and sides, greatly expanding the overall functionality of the piece. On top of that, they went above and beyond by providing a canteen and all its accessories, as well as the three greatest inventions known to humankind. The foldable stool. The poncho. And the beloved poncho liner. Or as I called it, the Woobie.


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


    Naturally, number 16, whoever they were, was now my new tailor. And so, I dragged their displays into my Pocket and moved on to pick the one who would be both my horologist and lapidarist.


    I moved through the displays, picking each watch up in hand to closely inspect and study each model in turn before I even started to make my decision. Like the uniforms, they ranged from elegantly simple designs to the complete and polar opposite. However, riding on the high of choosing my tailor raised my standards. Thus I quickly found myself going through the cases a second time in search of something¡­ more. And it didn¡¯t take long to find.


    It was a rather unremarkable watch, from a distance. Composed of an unremarkable leather band attached to a mildly detailed, gunmetal-gray bezel filled with similarly colored symbols, numbers, and dials. Upon closer inspection, however, I saw more functions than I ever expected to see in a watch made in this Renaissance-esque society. In addition to the basic function of a watch, a silent alarm had been integrated into the rotating bezel. And it boasted two miniature dials placed in the center of the face, with a full calendar on the left and a stopwatch on the right. The most fascinating feature of all, however, was the sun tracker. A two-toned ring was placed just outside the ring of numbers. Blue on the top, gold on the bottom, with a small, silver hand with which to track the sun''s movements.


    As eagerly as I¡¯d done the last, I pulled number 7¡¯s display into my Pocket before turning my attention to the last category.


    For the last bill, I decided to give my future Chief-Engineer creative freedom. With that freedom, nearly all of them managed to create a plethora of tools I would only use sparingly, if at all. Things like armor, weapons, or musical instruments. All but one individual.


    It was, by far, the largest thing in the room; including the displays themselves. A long, wide, and sleek carriage made of intricately carved blackwood with brass inlays. When standing next to it, it looked more like a tall limousine in wagon form than a carriage. Only chopped in half to resemble more of a curiously long sports coupe, complete with a sharply angled cockpit with rails and reigns protruding from the front. By estimates, it had to be at least two meters wide and five long from the ''trunk'' to the front of the cockpit, though not as tall to permit me to stand inside comfortably.


    According to the extensive description, it was a dual-powered carriage made to be as light and sturdy as possible while retaining the maximum amount of space and comfort. While it could be drawn by a beast, it was also steam-powered. And as far as amenities go, it included a meditation loft for me at the rear of the carriage, with seating for four inside and for another two in the sealed cockpit upfront. ¡®Surely a must-have for riding through the snow-capped lands of Odissi.¡¯ They wrote. In addition to the interior furnishings, storage pockets, and chests installed all along the in and outsides, however, it also boasted an outdoor kitchenette in the trunk; complete with a sink, a few hot plates, a refrigerator box, and an oven. All enchanted for my convenience.


    ¡°It¡¯s perfect.¡± I grinned. Stuffing number 39¡¯s creation in my Pocket.


    With my decisions finalized, I took a final look at the other displays to commit them all to memory before making my way up to the guest floor, Full Wraith Form enabled in order to bypass the masses of families mingling with each other.


    Entering my wing, I took my own advice and began stuffing the few things I kept out in the open into my Pocket. On top of that were things that weren¡¯t necessarily ¡®mine.¡¯ Innocuous or easily replaceable things like towels, flowerpots, furniture, rugs, tapestries, and a whole lot of food. Once done, I joined my vassals in lounging in my wing until the masses began to migrate to the amphitheater. And after a bit of waiting, we followed them to the 22nd floor to loiter until the ceremony began.


    ---


    ¡°Friends, families, and citizens of Deapou and Odissi, welcome to Corvus Academy, and give a round of caws to her One Hundred Ninety-Fifth graduating class!¡± Grandpa Lich spread his arms before the thousands of spectators present in the amphitheater. Eliciting an ear-throbbing roar of bird-like caws to bounce along the walls and concentrate on our position on stage. It seemed that was the norm instead of clapping. Here, at least.


    ¡°Class One Nine Five is unmatched by any class of students to come before them.¡± Grandpa declared once the roar died down, nearly causing another outburst to arise. ¡°Each of the five hundred fifty-six graduates you see before you can out-pace any of their peers across both Deapou and Odissi in knowledge, wisdom, physical might, and elemental practice. And, I dare say, that claim could be extended to include all of Maru!¡± He exclaimed, ceremoniously tossing his arm up into the sky before leaning back over the podium to gently growl into the microphone equivalent. ¡°These words are no mere boast. Only pure facts The reason?¡± He threw his arm back in a gesture toward me, sitting behind him. ¡°Amun, the Grand Duke of Odissi, shall explain!¡±


    ¡®Throwing me to the wolves again.¡¯ I internally grinned as I rose from my seat and studied the sea of roaring faces on my way to the podium. It was a daunting task, for sure. Or it would¡¯ve been for someone who hadn¡¯t lived for as long as I have. Either way¡­


    ¡®I accept the challenge.¡¯ I allowed my grin to surface as my arms came to a rest on the podium. Then took a long look at the crowd to allow the excitable roar to die down to a curious murmur before softly clearing my throat into the enchantment. ¡°For the last four years, me and my vassals, Toril O¡¯Connell, Jaimess A. Corey, and Jonet Fischer, have been living and learning alongside your sons and daughters; your brothers and sisters; your friends and families, here in Corvus Tower. Throughout these four years, we¡¯ve come to know them on a personal level. But not as friends.


    "Each student you see before you has devoted his or herself to extracurricular training at the end of each day; both on days they had classes and on their off days. That training was done under the supervision of my vassals and I.¡± I gestured behind me. ¡°The result of that training is five-hundred-fifty-six graduates who are experienced and expertly trained in martial combat. Five hundred fifty-six individuals with such proficiency in elemental manipulation that they are of flight sustained flight with air and fire; that they can fuse the elements to manipulate dust and mud and steam and snow.


    ¡°Additionally.¡± I leaned into the ¡®mic,¡¯ still smiling wide. ¡°A few of these students have been engaged in competition with each other to see who will become my personal tailor, watchmaker, and engineer. So, without further adieu.¡± I spread my arms to my sides. ¡°Will contestant numbers sixteen, seven, and thirty-nine, please come to the stage.¡±


    With the expenditure of my words, a rolling thunder of murmurs erupted in the theater. Prompting the sea of heads to begin darting from side to side at a furious pace and eventually settle upon a single individual. A girl, bubbly bursting forth from her seat with a loud squeak of excitement before waddling up to the stage, visibly fighting back from leaning into an all-out sprint up to the podium. Following her motion was a far calmer individual who nonchalantly ignored the sea of stares aimed at him while he waltzed up to the front. And behind him, was an all-too-familiar face whose gaze was nervously darting across the sea of eyes focused on him as he shuffled towards me.


    The rise of noise from the crowd grew to a crescendo of supportive caws once they made it up here and knelt before me. I then took a second to let the crowd die down a bit before saying. ¡°Introduce yourselves.¡±


    ¡°I am contestant number sixteen, Your Grace.¡± The nonchalant one lowered his head a bit before looking up at me with green eyes full of conviction. He was of a slim and tall build, even for someone our age. His red-brown skin was a canvas for a sea of freckles scattered across a mildly androgynous face. Though, most notable of all was the curly red-brown hair styled into a pompadour. ¡°I, Giorno Nojo, swear on my very soul to serve you to the best of my abilities as your tailor. I do this for the rest of my days. And long after.¡±


    ¡°I, Letta Sinclare; contestant number seven, swear fealty to Your Grace, Amun. In both life and death, I will serve as your keeper of time and cutter of gems.¡± The bubbly one declared next. A young lady with a short and thick build, for lack of a better description. She was built like a softball player; or like a future lunch lady with her perpetually joyful smile. Big-boned and full of muscle. With light, tan skin and brown hair tight tightly around a rather big head into a neat bun.


    ¡°I.¡± The last, instantly recognizable one stammered. ¡°I am contestant number thirty-nine. Edward Pascal. I¡­¡± He stammered again. Huffed and seemed to grasp onto some sort of resolve or conviction before calming himself, looking up to me and saying. ¡°I declare my undying loyalty to Your Grace. I will strive to do my best as your chief engineer and bring your ideas into creation.¡±


    ¡°Giorno. Letta. Edward.¡± I spread my arms out to them. ¡°Stand.¡± I gestured for them to face the crowd and receive the full brunt of the waves of cheer and applause directed at them for a few moments while I studied their reactions. And their Mana Wells. Then, I motioned for them to settle next to my vassals before I returned my attention to the crowd and leaned into the microphone for one final word.

 43 - A Grand Dukes Word

    ¡°Thank you all for your support.¡± I bowed to the now-calmed crowd. ¡°Before I go, however, I¡¯d like to give a reminder to the graduates, and a message to each citizen in attendance.


    ¡°Even in peace, remain vigilant,¡± I stated. ¡°Cultivate knowledge and wisdom, skill and strength, wealth and honor. Always strive to better yourself. But rarely should you focus on the things you are unable to do. There is more to life than magic and might. It matters not whether you are young or old; deemed a genius or dubbed incompetent; if you live in prime health or if you are knocking on death''s door. Everyone has a niche to fill. Our purpose in life is to not only find that niche, but we must also make the conscious decision to fall into it. And therein brings about the niche I''ve found and subsequently decided to fill.


    ¡°In a few years¡¯ time, I will return to the mainland to recruit members for a guild of my own making. Once they are properly trained, I will then lead my legions across Maru. And together, we will breach the barrier and rid our world of the hostile invaders inhabiting Ulai, once and for all. That is the niche I have chosen. Consider this an open invitation to follow me on my journey, come the appropriate time.


    ¡°For you esteemed guests present tonight, I wish you a joyous ceremony and a safe passage home,¡± I said in closing. ¡°And to you graduates. Congratulations. I wish you the best in your future endeavors. And I look forward to the day we meet again." With a final bow, I backpedaled to my seat and sat through the hours and hours needed for each student to be called to the stage to receive their diploma.


    After hours and hours of torture and a final speech from Grandpa Lich, the ceremony was finally over. He turned from the podium not even a second after the crowd started moving from their seats, passing by me to curtly say: "See you your awakening," before he phased backstage.


    I, on the other hand, promptly reached into my Shadow Pocket and turned to the newest additions, handing them the rucks I¡¯d been holding on to for all these years and some words they were undoubtedly waiting to hear. ¡°Pack your things in these. Take the night off. Celebrate with your friends and family. Be in my wing by morning, well-rested and ready to depart.¡± They seemed all too eager to agree to my orders and went off into the crowd at once to find their presumed families. Leaving the rest of us to return to the guest floor on our own.


    We all parted off to our wings at once to begin packing. As for me, I went straight to the kitchen for a quick meal before I began transferring a few things from my Shadow Pocket into my new carriage. Once a sizable portion of provisions and tools were stored in the umbral pockets within the carriage, I unleashed the seldom-used function of my Eternal Eye and watched in nostalgic satisfaction as a digitized version of the Empire scaled down to size around my body. As the many different areas and biomes I visited during my campaigns came to mind, the map followed suit and panned the 3D web to the associated location. Terrain features, flora, fauna; even temperature levels and weather conditions were represented via the same type of augmented reality I had in my past life. As a result, I assessed the various locales for potential resources and made a route back to the Ridge in just under a half hour, then spent the rest of the night ''tactically acquiring'' various items around the tower. Tools, equipment, and in some cases, resources for alchemy, masonry, metallurgy, and other crafts.


    ---


    I took a second to look at each of the six faces sitting around the table before beginning. Some of them were groggy and lethargic. Others were literally bouncing with enthusiasm in their seats. Though, they all seemed to have a certain glint of passion in their eyes that reflected brighter than the sun peeking through the windows. ¡°Good morning, everyone,¡± I finally said, gesturing to the map unfurled on the table. ¡°I figure we give ourselves some time for proper introductions before we begin. Letta Sinclare, master of clockwork mechanics and jeweler.¡± I pointed to her, then shifted my pointer finger over. ¡°Giorno Nojo, master tailor. And Edward Pascal, master chief engineer.¡± I pointed to the neurotic one before shifting my gesture toward my veteran vassals. ¡°Toril is my knight. Jaimess is my political and financial adviser. Jonet is my spy.¡±


    Giorno rose his brow as his finger simultaneously made its way to his chin. ¡°A spy?¡± He softly gasped in apparent admiration.


    ¡°All of you work directly for me, but also for each other.¡± I continued, ignoring his comment. ¡°Now, we¡¯ll go through the formalities later. For the time being, I¡¯ll tell you that your primary focus is to create things of both our and your own designs. As of now, I have no bills for you. I will, however, be giving you books within the next couple of days. You are to study them in your free time and share them with no one outside of this circle." I sternly warned. ¡°Additionally, you are to continue your training every day and always strive toward perfecting your crafts. Watches, clothes, tools, equipment- whatever you think will aid the rest of us, you have the freedom to make. See to Jaimess if you need any materials or equipment.¡± I gestured to him. ¡°Otherwise, you can more or less do as you please. So long as you do not disgrace me or my family''s name.¡±


    ¡°Understood, My Lord.¡± Giorno quickly said, bowing with the rest of them.


    ¡°With that out of the way.¡± I subtly groaned. ¡°Tell me, do any of you have any affinity cores?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Grace.¡± They all bowed in unison.


    ¡®Here we go again.¡± I internally groaned once more. ¡®Hopefully, it won''t take them nearly as long as the others to drop the titles.¡¯


    ¡°Like my father, I was born with Smoke Magic, Your Grace.¡± Ed bowed.


    ¡°And I have Chain Magic.¡± Letta cheekily added. ¡°That''s what my grimoire says, although, I can conjure other things too. Gears. Locks. Shackles. So... I dunno. I was never sure it was right."


    ¡°Interesting.¡± I nodded, then pointed to Giorno. ¡°And you?¡±


    ¡°Hewing Magic, My Lord.¡± He curtly bowed in his seat.


    ¡°Fascinating.¡± I smiled, biting back the impulse to ask for a demonstration. Instead, I gestured to the map of the Empire, bringing everyone¡¯s attention to the zig-zag line trailing from the Tower to the Twin Cities'' outskirts. ¡°This is the route we¡¯re taking to Deap Ridge. We¡¯ll be flying during the day and riding through the night while we rest. Along the way, we¡¯ll be making two pit stops so you three can amass a sizable stockpile of provisions and materials.¡± A few more words were exchanged over some breakfast. Then, it was out to the exterior balconies to watch my vassals take got on the move in their own unique ways.


    Instead of just charging himself and disappearing from sight, Toril lifted himself through the air on pillars of fire extending from his hands and feet with Giorno trailing just behind him. Jonet on the other hand, simply jogged towards the balcony and dove over the edge akin to a high diver. There was no flipping or spinning, however. Only a few waves of the arms to conjure a colossal ramp of ice slide down and elegantly skate off into the distance. Letta trailed after her, diving in a similar pose before a steel-gray mana shrouded her frame. Her back bulged in the next second, signaling a thick chain ejecting from her back to assumedly strike home against the balcony she''d just leaped from. However, the shard-like tip sort of... melted into the balcony. That, and the chain eased itself taught, yet still rang the morning air with the racket of a rattling chain as she swung off in the same direction as Jonet; repeating the action like a certain, friendly neighborhood arachnid-like individual. Jaimess simply conjured a large origami bird that he amiably stepped onto before turning to me and Ed with a wide smirk. And with a single gust of his paper hawk''s wing, he was far off into the distance, leaving Edward and I standing on the balcony, flooding mana in our bodies to assume dissimilar semi-solid forms and play catchup with everyone else.


    Several hours of flight and a few restroom breaks later, the sprawling footprint of warehouses and city blocks signaled our arrival at the border town of Emi. Yet we continued south for a few ways to descend towards a small clearing near the outermost outskirts.


    As I somewhat expected, most of the newer additions collapsed onto the snow the moment they came to a landing. Letta and Giorno heaved and panted tirelessly as if they¡¯d just run a marathon while their counterpart stood idly next to them. Yet, their discomfort came from different sources. From Giorno, it was the physical strain of prolonged manipulation; a feeling akin to post-workout fatigue. Ed and Letta, on the other hand, faced different levels of mana fatigue. Letta''s well was nearly topped off, yet with her constant casting, she was a lot worse off than Ed, who simply had to sustain a single spell. When coupled with their wells, it was an interesting observation. I could clearly see Slush Wells of varying sizes in their ethereal bodies, with Ed at the lowest and Letta; surprisingly, at the highest. With this, and seeing their spells in action over the come and days, I was afforded a pristine opportunity to gauge their increase in power once I realized the forced expansion theory.


    Though, that would have to come much later. For now, I drew everyone''s attention to the middle of our haphazard circle, where Toril was sparking up a campfire.


    ¡°For those of you who¡¯ve never been here, we are on the outskirts of Emi; the industrial capital of Odissi. That, in the distance, is the entrance to the mines and quarry.¡± I pointed to the silhouettes of cranes and warehouses dotting the western horizon; then, I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder to the east. ¡°Beyond that woodline, is a tree nursery, logging site, and growing houses for medicinal and industrial crops. The clothes you were given mark you as my vassals, so you don¡¯t have to worry about getting permission to use either site. We-¡± I gestured to first myself, then the veteran vassals. ¡°-will stay here and prepare a meal while you three gather resources until we eat. Whatever you need, we''ll make sure to pick up before we ride through the night to our next destination.¡±


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    With mixed levels of enthusiasm, they all bowed their affirmations before darting, skipping, or walking off toward the woodline. Toril offered to take over cooking duties shortly after their disappearance while Jaimess and Jonet began working to spruce up the place. So, with nothing else to do, I decided to do a little scrying to observe the new additions¡¯ magic from afar. Particularly, Giorno¡¯s peculiar hewing magic. With it, he produced mana blades that were remarkably different from the forging technique my mother showed me years ago. They appeared as crescent blades of solid air; or, as transparent disks or lines or even fields made of off-white energy flung from every swipe of the hand. Much to my astonishment, they cut only what, I assumed, Giorno wanted to cut. He took little time aiming in that way, even going as far as to send his magic through the other two to fell trees standing behind them. True to her word, Letta''s magic enabled her to spawn pulleys and gears in addition to her chains, greatly facilitating Ed, comically stuffing the large pieces of wood and stone into their unchanging bags.


    The rest of us shared a companionable silence in their absence. Toril toiled away with some pasta while Jonet had gone off somewhere to play in the snow shortly after the campsite was up to standard. Creating a peaceful camp ambiance in which to read and write and wait for the sun to continue its slow descent in the southern skies.


    Once Tiatus appeared to be nothing more than a radiant toenail cresting above the horizon, the tinkerers began to stream in, in much the same way as they¡¯d left. Ed practically sprinted to camp, leaving Letta to skip along in the snowfall of his wake while Giorno casually waltzed behind them. Being the last to take a bowl and a seat in one of the field chairs he created. With an hour or so of awkwardly companionable silence passing, I flicked a Shadow Bullet onto the ground to withdraw my carriage from the pocket of darkness. Prompting Ed to leap from his seat with unbridled excitement.


    ¡°Would you all like a tour?¡± He beamed at us after orbiting around the thing.


    ¡°Please,¡± Giorno said, stepping towards the sloped cockpit.


    ¡°I¡¯ve spent years and a bit of my own money making this for you, My Lord,¡± Edward explained as he opened a butterfly door on the front, bringing into view a pair of plush, reclined seats. Reaching inside, he grasped a pair of reigns that¡¯d been pinned in place to a jointed yoke and looked back to us while saying. ¡°The carriage can be steered from either seat in the cockpit, protecting the drivers from the wind and snow. On top of that.¡± He paused to gesture to a jewel placed at the center of the roof before pointing to a half-wall behind the seats. ¡°The cockpit and windows are heated by enchantments and it can be sealed off from the interior." Closing the door, Ed then walked along the side of the carriage to point out the many doors, boxes, and chutes lining the fenders and side skirts. ¡°These storage units are all enchanted and contain tools, spare parts, and other equipment meant to keep the carriage running in the worst of conditions. On top of that.¡± He stopped at the rear to ceremoniously open the trunk, revealing a horizontally split compartment. ¡°There¡¯s a camp kitchen!


    ¡°Complete with an icebox.¡± Ed continued, pointing to the large door on the upper portion before gesturing down to the recessed compartment below. Moving his finger along as he spoke. ¡°As well as heating elements, an oven, a sink, and.¡± He ceremoniously paused again. This time, to hurriedly pull out two pegs from either side of the wagon and set them aside before rushing back to the trunk to pull a plank of wood from under the counter and rotate it out like a door.


    ¡°A butcher''s table.¡± Toril nodded in understanding before Ed could get the supports set in. Causing the latter to shoot a dismayed and defeated look towards him before he deflatedly closed up the kitchen and rounded everyone around the entrance.


    Without a word, he unfolded a set of steps and entered the carriage. Prompting us all to follow into the surprisingly spacious interior.


    Set into the half-wall at the front was a rather unexpected fireplace. Obviously enchanted, and thus nothing more than an elaborate heating unit constructed with carved blackwood and slim marble tiles. Bordering the fireplace was a small access to the cockpit on the right side, mirrored by a small end table to service the adjacent bench seat. A similar, albeit smaller arrangement sat just to the left of the door, extending all the way to the rear of the carriage, where a plush, padded loft was situated. A loft I naturally seated myself in while the others crowded themselves on the benches.


    ¡°In an effort to save space and reduce weight, I installed modular furniture all over the place,¡± Edward explained in a minutely less enthusiastic tone. Without much more words, he methodically reached towards the floor and unfolded four, L-shaped pegs from the base of the bench and sprung them upright to create a built-in table for each passenger. Seemingly ignoring everyone''s astonishment, he unfolded the flat portions of their tables, leaving only pegs to remain while he reach for the base of my loft. From a flush pocket, he withdrew a long slab of relatively thin wood and fastened it to the supports. Thus creating a single, much larger dining table. Only then, did he look around at everyone¡¯s expressions and offer himself a smile. Then, he looked at me and asked. ¡°Is your loft comfortable, My Lord?¡±


    ¡°It is.¡± I nodded, pressing the pads around me. ¡°It¡¯s spacious enough for me to sleep in if I wanted to.¡±


    ¡°Excellent.¡± Ed¡¯s grin returned to its full vibrancy in an instant. Nearly leaping forward, he collapsed the table and pegs back to their hidden positions before approaching my loft to pull up on the base. Akin to an inverted garage door, a half-wall erected from his gentle pull, locking in place just above my knees. ¡°The full height of this wall extends to here, My Lord.¡± Ed pointed to the end of a groove at the mid-point of the wall. Then, trailed his finger along a rail curving around the ceiling. ¡°With these foldout curtains, you can attend to your business in private. However, with the wall in this position. This. Can. Unfold.¡± He groaned as he leaned this way and that to unfurl bits of trim and wooden slats from each side of my loft, then came to a full pause to detach sheets of what appeared to be woven bark from each side of my loft and jigsaw them into the unfurled bits, creating a thin table top.


    "With this.¡± Ed ceremoniously spread his arms. ¡°You have your own eating or working table. Naturally, it can be used while the wall is at its full height as well. And.¡± He flicked his finger over my shoulder. ¡°You have access to the icebox and a drinking fountain from your loft. As well as a private entry from the porthole above.¡±


    ¡°Wow!¡± I gasped, following his pointer to the sparse starfield staring down at me through a round porthole. "You''ve exceeded my expectations, Ed. You have truly earned your position. As have the rest of you.¡± I added, looking past him.


    ¡°I am honored. Thank you, Your Grace.¡± Ed bowed. Then sprung up again to collapse the table and reach below my loft to pull down a sort of garage door. Eliciting shocked gasps from the others that all but forced me to crawl forward and investigate.


    ¡°The kitchen is reversible.¡± I gasped in astonishment.


    ¡°Yes, My Lord.¡± Ed proudly nodded. ¡°For maximum comfort and accessibility, the kitchen and icebox can both be accessed from the in and outside and even used whilst on the move. Albeit with caution. Additionally, the carriage contains a ten-liter water tank. Small, but there is a water enchantment installed to refill it automatically. It has ice enchantments in the sleighs, as well as shadow enchantments in the undercarriage and in the interchangeable wheels, for the open waters, maximum riding comfort, and the option for stealth.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, this is incredible.¡± Toril gasped after a few long moments. ¡°But, this must¡¯ve cost a fortune.¡±


    Either embarrassed or flustered, Ed sort of¡­ squawked in awkward laughter and began itching the back of his head feverishly. ¡°Well.¡± He squawked again. ¡°Most of the materials were provided by Our Lord. The tool and equipment by the school. Though, I did burn through most of my savings to get the enchantments.¡±


    ¡°What are you, a noble?¡± Letta spat in either sarcasm or contempt.


    ¡°No.¡± Ed squawked again. Rubbed his head a bit more feverishly. ¡°Though, my parents are quite successful merchants. In fact.¡± He turned to face some ambiguous direction; probably the direction he thought the town was in. ¡°I was born in Emi. But I don¡¯t remember much of the place. I went to the Tower when I was five, after all.¡±


    ¡°Regardless, your work is outstanding. I expect nothing less than this going forward,¡± I said to him, then waited for his acknowledging nod before I opened the hatch. ¡°Now, pack up camp and pick someone to drive for the first four hours. I¡¯ll be right back.¡± With that, I leaped from the roof of the wagon and dropped right into the plane of darkness.


    As always, the decrepit plane of gloom contained little sound or light for uncountable leagues in every direction. Only rotten forests, crumbled boulders, and perpetually cloudy skies were found for as far as the eye could see. Though, I¡¯ve since come to learn that many creatures still called this foul place home. Beasts and monsters who loved my father feared my great-grandfather and outright avoided me. Beasts that could remain unseen, even by me. Seen only by me, however, were the ''shadows of light'' representing darkness in the material plane. Gates back to reality, all of them. It was through this method that I formed a bond with one of those creatures; if only by order of the Necro King. In doing so, however, I was taught a most-peculiar technique with which to beckon my mount. A type of casting that gave me quite a bit of insight into the skill I¡¯d long since had my eyes set on.


    Though, the moment when I could test that skill was still far from at hand.


    Regardless, I did as I was taught years ago and pulled shadow mana from my well, guided it through my body, up to my torso, and into my throat before gently saying, ¡°Karu.¡± And like a stone thrown into a pond, the energy within my word sent a visible ripple through the pervasive darkness of the realm.


    Mere moments later, a pair of small, moon-yellow disks panned from behind a tree to stare at me for a long, uncomfortable second before its owner lunged forth with a bloodcurdling caw. Within a few strides, it was before me, its long, quilled neck arced up to tower menacingly above me before it snapped down with the quickness of a viper. Enveloping me in a tight embrace that dug dozens of jagged quills into my semi-amorphous body.


    ¡°I missed you too, buddy.¡± I hugged him in turn. Digging the quills deeper into my shadow flesh until I pulled away. ¡°Come on.¡± I tugged on his umbral reigns, guiding him toward the closest ''shadow of light.'' "Let¡¯s go for a ride.¡±


    He cawed eagerly and excitedly the entire way to the physical plane. Causing a few of the others, particularly Giorno, to jump backward or even scream in shock or horror at the sight.


    ¡°My gods!¡± He quite comically screamed. ¡°What IS that!?¡±


    ¡°This is Karu. A Nox Ave. My mount.¡± I phlegmatically explained as I led Karu to the wagon. ¡°He lives in the Abyssal Plane- the shadow realm. As such, he has absolutely no tolerance for light of any kind. He¡¯ll return at the first sight of dawn. Other than that, he¡¯s like any other Ave.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s an Ave?¡± Letta asked, reaching her hand towards Karu.


    ¡°A type of flightless bird. They¡¯re usually around three meters tall.¡± I snorted, gesturing to the creature in question. ¡°Any ave can outrun and outpace any horse in existence. Nox Aves, however, can outpace all other aves, as they can augment their bodies, step through shadows, and use the darkness to walk on walls, ceilings, or even water. And his quills are venomous. So... don''t.¡±


    She seemed almost heartbroken as she pulled her arm away and turned, arms hanging, to step inside the carriage. Seeing it, I couldn¡¯t help but shake my head and laugh. Then forced myself to hide my amusement before descending through my porthole to settle into my loft.


    ¡°I assume you two know the route,¡± I called up to the front.


    To which, Edward held up a map while Jaimess turned over his shoulder and gave an exaggerated nod. ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± I grinned, raising my half-wall. ¡°Everyone else, get as much rest as you can. We¡¯ll be at our destination come dawn.¡±

 44 - New Troops

    My body shook itself awake from its state of torpor around four hours later. And after a drink of water from the small fountain next to the ice box, I was floating next to the windshield in my Wraith Form, telling Jaimess to stop the vehicle.


    With the passing of a short bathroom break, the six of them had either returned to or began to lounge about on the benches and floors of the carriage while I was up front, accompanied by my doppelganger in the blissful silence of the night. In that silence, I was able to think about a great many things that were burning in my mind while my umbral clone steered.


    The matter of these mana wells and the forced expansion theory was, by far, the primary theory my compulsive intellect was attached to at the moment. A question that would regrettably have to wait until I could speak with my mother about the elven secrets Grandpa Lich so loved to mention. On top of that, were the many things he mentioned in passing, yet never explained. Evolution. Living liches. Proper necromancy. Wyverns and dragons. The things that he either didn¡¯t want me to know or the things that he wanted me to learn on my own at the academy, Being capable of nothing more than conjecture at this point in time, I compartmentalized the many data points in my mind and instead, pulled out a large stack of paper to continue transcribing knowledge for my tinkerers.


    Like Toril and the others, I had ideas on how they could make the most of their magical affinities. For all of them, I thought of experiments for them to try or ideas for spells that they could further develop. Ed¡¯s focus was on the relationship between smoke and ash. In a traditional sense, smoke from a natural fire primarily contained carbon, in the form of soot; as well as, tar, oil, and ash particles. Thus it would stand to reason that with magic, he could learn to conjure each aspect of his smoke individually. Or if not that, I assumed he could at least control them.


    Letta''s focus, on the other hand, was primarily on material science, complex machines, and the supporting mathematics for all of her crafts; plus a lengthy lesson on tensile strength. I had a sneaking suspicion that her magic had nothing to do with metal, despite it being attributed to chains. Or, to put it another way, her having an affinity for chains meant, in theory, she could form them out of any imaginable material; thus they could outperform steel, nanotubes, or any other known material known to at least me. What I was uncertain of, however, was if the strength of her change was dependent on her knowledge of said materials or on her seemingly limited understanding of her own magic. Taking Telin''s word into account, however, brought me to believe it was both. Necessitating more observations and, of course, testing.


    Lastly, Giorno¡¯s focus was perhaps the most monumental. For there was a long road ahead of him if he was to understand atomic theory. And yet, I had the utmost faith that he''d see it through in record time. If only for the very namesake of atoms. Atomos. Implying there would always be something ''indivisible'' to his hewing magic was like telling me there would always be a shadow I couldn''t hide in. Potentially maddening, though it was, it was all but necessary. I wanted to instill in all of them, an experimental mindset. For their professions, however, I transcribed for Ed, a massive pile of books containing principles, designs, and schematics of technology that more than likely had no place in this magical world. Concepts like electricity; electromagnetic radiation; the laws of thermodynamics; or orbital dynamics. I gave him blueprints for things like batteries; hand radios; combustion engines; rocket engines; prosthetics; land, sea, and aircraft; as well as other modern technology plus knowledge of more practical things, like the principles of agriculture; construction; and R&D.


    Conversely, I transcribed instructions to teach Letta how to imbue more functions into smaller and smaller watches. Microelectronics without the electronics was the name of the game, for that would come later. Most importantly, I transcribed intricate, step-by-step lessons on how to create the highly-wanted-by-me, digital watch. Additionally, I expanded her palate by giving her introductory lapidary and jewelry books to study. As for Giorno, he was given books on tanning and agriculture so that he could learn how to produce his own materials. On top of that, he was given details and schematics of things he¡¯d probably be unable to make with the proper magic. Things like kevlar, dilatant liquids, and even carbon nanotube fabrics.


    I was hardly finished by the time the sun began peeking over the Mortal Plane. Wherein Karu began squawking madly, demanding to go back into the night. Without much fuss, I pulled the carriage into a small valley and released him from the reigns, then watched him dart off to the nearest shadow to disappear without a trace. Amiably turning, I waddled around to the rear of the carriage to begin preparing breakfast. Just over a half-hour later, I pulled down the inner wall of the kitchen before sealing the trunk and entering through the hatch.


    Quite hilariously, the others were stirring awake from the pungent smell of meat, eggs, and fresh biscuits hanging in the air.


    Quick as always, Toril was up on his feet while the others were groggily sitting up from the floors and benches. Murmuring as Toril reached over and under them to snap the table into place and help set it. Once done, he handed me a plate before sitting to my right, next to Letta and Giorno; across from Jaimess and the other two.


    ¡°Good morning, everyone.¡± I nodded to them all after thanking Toril. Then, proceeded with a bit of small talk until we worked through the majority of our meals. Wherein I got down to business. ¡°Our objective for today is for you three to continue amassing a stockpile of materials. This time, we¡¯ll be here throughout the day and night, hunting and foraging. After we eat, we¡¯ll set up camp and go out on our own. If any of you have never been, the others will teach you.¡± I motioned to Toril and received a quick nod in response. ¡°The goal is to get as much as you can but don''t overdo it. Aside from your quarries, I require that you all capture a type of deer or anything larger so we can teach you how to preserve it later tonight.¡±


    They quickly nodded their affirmations before working through the rest of their meals. Then, we assembled outside and got to work. After Jonet cleared away the snow, we all used earth manipulation to build ourselves some spruced-up foxholes for later tonight.


    Well, Toril taught the newest additions while I mostly supervised and the rest made their own. Until I got bored, at least. Then I assumed Wraith Form and floated off on my own to hunt.


    In my years fighting across the Empire, I¡¯d seen little to none of the feral or magical beasts found through the land. Though with death mana leaking from everywhere between me and the Tower, I couldn¡¯t exactly be surprised with the observation. Now that I had the freedom, peace, and time, however, I could finally hunt for more creatures to add to my collection.


    Hunting had long since been a trivial matter for me. With my innate magic and the enchantments in my clothes, even the most sensitive creatures had no chance of detecting me as I crept through the hilly woods. To them, I was just a region of slightly darker darkness. If even that. To most, my presence in Wraith Form was just an uncanny feeling. A sensation of being watched. Hairs standing on end. As was the case with the large moose I came across after a bit of searching. It only moved- panicked, when I cast a Death Bullet. Yet when the magic struck home it fell with naught a scream or huff of air, nor crash of flesh against snow; for it was seamlessly pulled into my Shadow Pocket. A nice addition to my provisions for sure. But I wanted something a little more¡­ maneuverable, to add to my collection. So, I quickly got back on the trail- in my physical form. And not long after, I heard the faintest of steps far behind me. Over a half-dozen of them. Yipping and yelping and four-legged. Traveling around to my flanks. Signs that pointed to one thing.


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    ¡°It¡¯s always wolves.¡± I groaned, turning to face a pack of dire wolves. Nine of them in all shades between white and black, creeping forth from the brush about twelve meters away.


    In all honesty, I wasn¡¯t particularly interested in fighting wolves; nor did I admire the taste. That said, I adored canines of all types. So, I quickly broke off a small chunk of my well and siphoned the shadow mana into my fingers.


    Taking a step backward as the closest wolves lunged, I flicked off Shadow Bullets towards the largest pair near the rear, leaving them sniffing the air in a defensive posture while the others charged. Without missing a beat, I spawned a few Shade Tendrils beneath both wolves and verified the umbral tentacles grasping hold of my targets before withdrawing my daggers. I may have undying love for canines- many animals, for that matter- but I wasn''t the type to let the things I love hurt me.


    Turning on my heels, I was met with a wide, gaping maw arcing directly toward me. Without moving, I pulled mana from my well and through the entirety of my core, stretching the willow tree branches across my skin until I was encased in my Void Skin. The wolf¡¯s jaw and throat disappeared the moment it made contact. As did the heart and lungs and spine and guts as its momentum carried it forward. Leaving, in the end, two me-sized sets of legs held together by thick strips of fur and ribs.


    Canceling my Void Skin, I lunged at the wolf coming in from behind the newly departed and swept my blade through its neck to create a wide gash that showered me in blood. As it fell, I pulled my spear from my umbral pocket and casually tossed it aside, allowing the enchantment imbued within to take hold and sweep and thrash the wolves flanking from the rear while I made short work of the wolf who¡¯d bounded to my front. With two of them captured and five of them dispatched, the remaining two attempted to turn tail and run. Not willing to let their pelts escape me, I quickly filled my fingers with Death Bullets and flicked them at the escapees, then pulled them into the abyss before they could skip and tumble.


    With my quarry acquired, I stepped back on the trail and moved rather quickly to escape the stench of death that¡¯d permeated the place. A stench that surely drove off any and all creatures from the area. As it took me several hours of walking until I saw any other sign of life. Two hours after that, I reached the end of the woods we were in. From there, I turned to the west and skirted the forest. Searching for a sign of anything in both the plains to my left and the dense brush to my right. Due to its camouflage, I almost didn¡¯t see it. A white fox, tilting its head this way and that as it listened in to something under the snow.


    Scrying through the shadows, I saw a little field rat amiably burrowing away. And not a moment later, the fox leaped up and dove, snout first, into the snow. Where it thrashed its tail about before elegantly surfacing like a swimsuit model flinging their hair backward. Albeit a furry, large-eared model, holding a bleeding rat in their mouth. Together, they both ate a Shadow Bullet and were subsequently pulled into my Pocket to make friends with Roger. With a nice grouping of animals stored away and the sun beginning to drop under the Mortal Plane, I took on my Wraith form and returned to camp. Juggling a few names for this... transformation spell in my mind.


    Minutes later, I was assuming my physical form next to the wagon¡¯s trunk to fix a bowl of stew before I joined the others around the campfire. After taking a seat, I told Jaimess of the elk I killed before joining in on the amiable small talk.


    From the days of flying, working, and resting in a cramped carriage, it was no surprise to me that my newest additions were weary. I could only hope that they¡¯d get some better rest in our foxholes tonight; nevertheless, I was happy that they were at least in good moods. Though, with them riding the combined highs of graduating, traveling on their own, and being chosen as my vassals, I¡¯d be concerned if they weren¡¯t. Still, they¡¯d managed to both hunt and forage a considerable amount of material in the twelve or so hours of our being here. Leaving not much for them to do but rest and bond with their new peers for the rest of the night.


    Though fun and jovial, our conversations passed with nothing particularly happening or being said; up until the moment I spotted a young owl perched up in a tree, and flicked a Shadow Bullet at it.


    Screeching loudly, it quickly took to the skies in an attempt to escape. Somewhat anticipating it, however, I sent out a Shade Tendril to grab hold of it and drag it into my Pocket. Prompting six, mortified, wide-eyed stares to slowly turn back to me.


    ¡°What... was that?¡± Toril asked. Seemingly for everyone.


    ¡°An experimental spell,¡± I said, summoning Roger.


    ¡°Bunny!¡± Letta immediately exclaimed, rushing forth to take Roger from my hands. But the moment he settled in her arms, his flesh morphed and a duplicate jumped onto the floor, rushing to Giorno. Letta squeaked again before Giorno began rudely shooing away the rabbits multiplying around his feet.


    ¡°Are these¡­ undead?¡± Ed cautiously asked.


    ¡°No.¡± I somewhat deflatedly sighed. ¡°Roger was a normal rabbit that I trapped in my Shadow Pocket. My theory is that he was, sort of, infected with shadow mana once he began to die of thirst or starvation. Either that or my mana slowly leaked into him from the start and he was changed over time. Now, he''s an umbral rabbit. My mana sustains him, and he can use darkness to... breed like rabbits.¡±


    ¡°Impressive.¡± Jaimess gasped, ignoring me chuckling at my own joke. ¡°And I assume you¡¯ve captured more on your hunting trip? I¡¯m eager to hear more.¡±


    ¡°I did.¡± I grinned. ¡°Two dire wolves, a fox, a rat, and that owl. Though, they have yet to turn or be named. Together, they make up the Tenebrous Menagerie.¡±


    ¡°Such an elegant name.¡± Giorno chimed in from several meters away, far from the cluster of magical rabbits.


    I¡¯ve been curious,¡± I said after acknowledging Giorno¡¯s compliment and returning Roger to my shadow. ¡°What are your dreams and goals?"


    ¡°I want to be rich.¡± Letta promptly said in her usual cheeky tone.


    ¡°You¡¯re my vassal, Letta. You¡¯re already rich.¡± I snorted.


    ¡°Well then.¡± She tapped at her cheek before spreading her arms out to her sides, beaming wide. ¡°I want to spread my brand across all of Maru, and beyond!¡±


    ¡°Admirable.¡± I grinned. ¡°I¡¯ll see to it that it happens. And you?¡± I gestured to Giorno.


    Curiously, he craned his neck to see the sky and let out an airy sigh. ¡°My wish is to see the world. To explore different cultures. Meet new people. See new places. Try new things. There are a million fantastic things to be seen across the Mortal Plane, and my dream is to bear witness to them all. And.¡± He charmingly shrugged. ¡°I want to make clothes suitable for every realm, of course.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know, really. But¡­ if I may, my Lord.¡± Edward stammered. ¡°Why is it that you are so focused on training? Why exactly do you intend to take back Ulai? I¡¯ve been dying to know.¡±


    I ignored the warnings my veteran vassals were giving Ed and decided to answer his question with a question. ¡°Is the Maru of today the type of realm you¡¯d be happy spending the rest of your life in? Any of you?¡± I turned to the others after a long period of silence. ¡°A quarter of our realm is a dense wilderness sitting atop a war-torn continent. Another quarter is home to creatures native to every other realm, and they''ve been imprisoned there for two and a half centuries.


    ¡°Allow me to ask you this.¡± I continued after another pause. ¡°What do you believe those imprisoned monsters have been doing inside the barrier? The orcs and goblins of Betrarth, the demons of Vagua, the strange beasts and dragons of Nonus. It would only stand to reason that they''ve constructed empires far superior to our own in terms of might. And yet, we live complacently in our lands, living under the guise that the barrier will hold indefinitely. We blatantly ignore the latent threat that exists just across the ocean.¡± I threw my arm to the west. To the faint green glow sitting permanently in the sky. ¡°My guild will erase that threat. And then, we¡¯ll create an empire unlike any Maru has ever seen. And together, we¡¯ll explore the Mortal Plane in its entirety. From Gray Terminus to Egedil, we will march.


    ¡°And along the way.¡± I heavily sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll learn of my family history.¡±


    ¡°Your family history?¡± Giorno shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°The history of the House of Cole is a history of secrets, not written in any book or etched onto any tablet,¡± I explained. ¡°It is a secret carried to the grave by its wielder. Thus I must find, them, my ancestors, to be taught their history. Like I did with my Great-Grandfather: through death.¡±


    As before, there was a long period of silence following my words. It didn¡¯t take a genius to see that everyone wanted to ask something; possibly the same thing. So, I went ahead and broke the silence with what I thought was the answer to their burning question. ¡°Once the guild is formed and everyone is up to standard,¡± I said. ¡°As such, our first trial run will be the land in which my Great-Grandfather was born. Phaegrath. For that, we have about five more years to prepare.¡±

 45 - Return to the Deap

    A few more days of travel saw us arrive at the western outskirts of the Twin Capitols. But not to visit.


    Once everyone was satiated and a bit rested, I emerged from my little foxhole to find all of the others crowded around the campfire. Admiring the twin capitols from a distance.


    ¡°If any of you want to go to the city, feel free,¡± I said, taking my seat within the circle. ¡°Go sightseeing, do some shopping, visit family. Do whatever. We won¡¯t be returning to this place for quite some time.¡±


    Toril softly bowed in response. ¡°Thank you, My Lord. But, I''m fine.¡±


    ¡°As am I,¡± Jaimess added shortly thereafter. This was followed by a series of mute responses from all the others.


    ¡°So be it.¡± I amiably shrugged, then jerked my thumb across the grayscale ocean. ¡°Consider this is your last test. Deap Ridge is roughly eight hundred kilometers across the sea. If you can cross that on your own, you can go anywhere in the realm that you wish. You can leave any time between now and dawn.¡± I paused to study their daunted expressions before I turned about, collapsed my foxhole, and assumed my Wraith Form to take off. Yelling over my shoulder: ¡°See you on the other side!¡± And not a second later, a blue spark streaked past me. Arcing off into the distance to settle on the distant island after only a few moments.


    While flying in my umbral form was fun, it was only half of the experience I longed for. Despite the fact that I could easily outpace sound during the night, the wind in my face and the forces pulling on my body whilst maneuvering was entirely missing from the equation. Thus I couldn¡¯t help but fantasize about awakening my dormant cores and finally getting my hands on gravitational mana. In my eagerness to return home; or perhaps from my bottled-up frustrations, I sped over the waters as fast as I could. Leaving Umbral Irises in my wake until I eventually settled on the northern coast of Deap Ridge, two hours behind Toril.


    Yet far, far ahead of the others.


    My young knight approached me to sit in the snow at my side without delay. Wherein he leaned in close and gently said, ¡°I don¡¯t mean to question you, Amun. But, isn¡¯t this too much?¡±


    ¡°You taught them well, Toril. Do not doubt yourself. And more, they¡¯ve learned how to conserve their energy and maintain flight for longer periods of time during the course of our journey. Besides.¡± I pointed up to the line of many-eyed spheres stretching down the monochrome sky. ¡°We haven¡¯t exactly left them hanging. I have a constant eye on them, they have their doppelgangers, plus Jaimess and Jonet are in close proximity to them as well. They aren¡¯t going to drown.¡±


    ¡°I understand. I¡¯m just¡­¡± He meekly turned away. ¡°I''m worried.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s a good thing.¡± I smiled reassuringly. ¡°However, it is unwise to underestimate your subordinates. They must be pushed out of their comfort zones if they wish to grow.¡± With that, we fell into a companionable silence and began the wait for the rest of them to trickle in.


    Such an endeavor lasted an hour. Not so much bored as I was productive, I pulled my wagon from my Pocket and settled in my loft to finish transcribing information for the new additions. Three hours later, my task was complete and I was emerging from my hatch to join Toril, sitting under a pop-up tent by the camp kitchen around an assortment of meats and sausages and vegetables and cheese. Together, we spent the next six hours preparing one of my favorite dishes, then set the table for the others just as they finally came trickling in.


    The first thing to arrive was a fire-shitting hawk that killed its velocity with a few powerful gusts of wind before hovering in place for a bit. Allowing Jaimess to nonchalantly disembark and cancel his Origami Arts spell, resulting in the bird being ripped into a thousand sheets of dusty paper. As he joined us, a jagged shard of ice suddenly erupted from the side of the cliff, preceding Jonet ramping into the sky above us to gracefully flip and cartwheel into an air-cushioned landing like an X-Games athlete. Then the subtle sounds of chains began clanking against the air. Letta ascended in much the same way as Jonet, only with just enough hangtime to throw a chain at a large outcrop to have it violently ratchet her over to our little congregation. Wherein she rolled into a landing and deftly sprouted right back up to her feet, leaving a semi-solid Ed and a torch-riding Giorno to anticlimactically arrive in the following moments.


    Regardless of how tired any of them were, they were all corralled into the wagon the moment they landed. And upon entering, they seemed to be instantly revitalized by the mere sight of the deep bowls of pasta arranged around the table. The sounds of them gorging themselves like a bunch of starved troglodytes were heard clearly from outside. Rising higher even than the caws and rattles of Karu''s excitable caws. Though, the sight was far worse.


    After I spawned my Doppelganger, Numa, having him take up the reigns, I entered the wagon through my porthole and the first thing I saw was cheese, stretched over a few faces like terrible disguises. That, and red sauce dripping from fingers like blood on a killer¡¯s hands, hanging over leftover chunks of meat or pasta as if they were caught red-handed. All the while, Toril, Jaimess, and Jonet watched with either wide-eyed horror or unbridled amusement.


    ¡°Wow.¡± I gasped in surprise as I settled in my loft.


    "I tried to tell them." Toril broke out in a wry chuckle, shaking his head in embarrassment. ¡°I tried to tell them.¡± He laughed again.


    ¡°Oh, no.¡± I quickly raised an open palm. ¡°This is to be expected. Still, I¡¯m just¡­ surprised.


    "Anyways.¡± I dismissed the matter with a wave that ended with me pointing out the port-side windows. ¡°That''s our former training grounds.¡± As one, their eyes tracked my movements to the snow-capped complex that we once called home. It was in surprisingly good condition. Only a thick layer of snow needed to be removed from the outdoor areas and I was sure only a bit of frost was to be found on the inside. ¡°I¡¯m unsure if we should continue occupying the spot going forward.¡± I continued, speaking more to myself than to anyone else. ¡°We¡¯ll only be in the Ridge for ten months or so, until the awakening ceremony. Though, I doubt my parents would be willing to have their long period of peace interrupted by our training. But, that¡¯s for another time.¡±


    With a sigh, I reached into my Pocket to retrieve my completed books and distributed them to their new owners a set at a time. ¡°These contain knowledge and wisdom pertaining to bettering yourselves as individuals. The topics enclosed within include philosophy, mathematics, leadership principles, ancient wisdom, and strategy. Through this, you will learn of yourself, and of others- of human nature. And through these.¡± I paused, handing out the next set. ¡°You will learn of concepts, designs, and theories that I¡¯m sure will elevate your skill sets to a state beyond comparison. I implore you to test and create as many of these ideas as you can or use them as stepping stones to create something I couldn¡¯t imagine. ¡°Lastly.¡± I paused again to deal out the last set. ¡°These pertain to your magical affinities. With them, I expect you to not only become more powerful, but more knowledgeable of your magical natures.¡±


    I allowed them a long pause to scan through the pages and store the books away before continuing. ¡°As I explained before. Your primary focus is to realize any design that we, or any of you, create; additionally, you are to study any and all books I transcribe for you in the future. And you must share that knowledge with no one outside of this circle. That includes my Mother, my Father, my Great-Grandfather, and the Emperor. No one.¡± I gravely growled while leaning forward over the ledge of my loft. ¡°Not a soul is to be aware of the contents of these books until I say otherwise. And you must never inquire about the source of my knowledge. I will tell you when the time is right. Understood?¡±


    Without much delay, a triage of hurried nods and affirmations was sent my way. Assuring me that my point had been made to the lot of them.


    Hopefully.


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    ¡°Now then.¡± I leaned back onto my pillow with a sigh. ¡°Jobs aside, the most important prerequisite to serving me is that you must be self-sufficient. Like our journey to this place, we will find ourselves having to cross vast, exotic landscapes in the coming years. Places that are far more dangerous than Odissi, or anywhere else in Maru for that matter. On top of that, we¡¯ll find ourselves separated for extended periods of time, both in the near and far future. Thus, each and every one of you must be capable of surviving on your own for an extended period of time with no guidance or supervision. That is the reason why your training has been so extensive. In exchange for your services, I¡¯ll provide you with working materials, provisions, housing, clothes and equipment, and most of all, safety- but not in the form that you think. I keep you safe by giving you the means to protect yourself; for even I cannot protect everyone. As for your pay.¡± I sighed, using tendrils of shade to withdraw three hefty bags from my Pocket. ¡°Each of you will be receiving a payment of one-hundred gold coins per week.¡±


    Letta¡¯s eyes lit up immediately before she pounced on her coin and tucked it away. Then, her eyes turned cold as they darted towards Ed, shaking his head as he said: ¡°But¡­ Lords usually don¡¯t pay their vassals, do they?¡±


    ¡°The agreement is usually land and protection in exchange for services, that is true. Seeing as how I technically have no land, however, I decided to pay you all until I do.¡± I shrugged. ¡°This is of no loss to me. On the contrary, it shows some appreciation for your efforts. More so, it gives each of you a foundation to use later on down the line. And I mean a couple of years from now. When you all have your own subordinates.¡±


    ¡°Subordinates?¡± Giorno¡¯s brow perked up at once.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I nodded. ¡°For now, you all hold different occupations as my vassals. After the guild is formed, you all will be in charge of different departments of that guild. And after the formation of the empire, the guild will be assimilated into it as a military force, and you all will become the royals who lead the place alongside me.


    ¡°As my knight.¡± I gestured to my right. ¡°Toril will be in command of all things combat within the guild. He will lead our legions into war while I command. Then, he¡¯ll take my spot to command once our job here is done. Jaimess.¡± I waved to my left. ¡°Is my treasurer and political adviser, for now. Later, he¡¯ll be the head of logistics and administration for the guild. Then, he''ll hold the very capital as his domain. Lastly, Jonet is my spy.¡± I pointed to her. ¡°As such, I can¡¯t divulge what I have planned for her. But one day, she¡¯ll lead her own legion of thieves and spies who act in plain sight.


    ¡°Now, the three of you may be artisans.¡± I turned to them. ¡°However, your personal responsibilities will be far different from one another. Letta, and Giorno, you are my personal watchmaker and tailor respectively. Naturally, that means your services extend to the rest of us as well. However, in the future, Letta, you will be in charge of the guild¡¯s timekeeping. You are to create and manage every watch or clock tower within our territory. It¡¯s a job that¡¯s just as essential as any other, if not more. Logistics, communication, and punctuality are what make a military force great. Not weapons and warriors.¡±


    ¡®That, and air superiority.¡¯ I internally snorted.


    Nevertheless, Letta quickly bowed in her usual cheeky way. ¡°I understand, My Lord.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± I nodded. ¡°Additionally, those books I gave you contain all I know about gems, crystals, metal, and jewelry. With that and the skills you already have, I envision your work making up a large portion of our economy in the future. Which means you¡¯ll be wealthier than you already are.¡± I grinned at her.


    Ignoring the shrill squeak of glee, I turned to my tailor. ¡°Giorno, the uniform you made for the guild couldn¡¯t have been better. If you haven¡¯t already, make a set for each of us. Then make modifications to address different environmental conditions. We¡¯ll be traveling far and wide in the coming years and we¡¯ll need to dress accordingly. Thus your role is vital to our future as explorers. We are not only royalty, but we are mystics as well. We must look the part just as much as we act it. The modifications will continue until I learn how to make enchantments,¡± I added. ¡°At that time, we¡¯ll work together to create a final version. And when the guild is fully realized, you¡¯ll be in charge of creating, maintaining, and issuing out gear to our troops. Every piece of clothing or equipment we use will be designed by you, crafted by your subordinates, and inspected by your eyes for quality control.


    ¡°Of course, My Lord.¡± He promptly bowed.


    ¡°As my Master Chief Engineer, Ed.¡± I looked at him intently. ¡°You will most likely have just as many subordinates as Toril in the future. If not more. Every crafter, artisan, and artificer in our organization will report to you. In return, you will be responsible for every aspect of their lives. Their education and well-being should be at the forefront of your mind, always. And you must be aware of the progress of their bills at all times. The things we build will help you in that endeavor, so do not fret. Your last and largest responsibility will be that of city planning. Our numbers will one day reach high into the tens of thousands. We¡¯ll need to make the most use of our space and plan accordingly for growth.¡±


    ¡°I- I''ll do my best, My Lord.¡± Ed stammered.


    ¡°Rest assured.¡± I softly smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll give you every tool and piece of knowledge in my arsenal to help you all succeed. And in exchange for helping me achieve my dreams, I¡¯ll help you achieve yours. So long as you tell me what they are.¡±


    With my monologue over, a few of us lounged about or started up some small talk while the others spent the short remainder of our ride reading or cleaning up the mess they¡¯d made. Once outside the main gate, I stowed the carriage away in my Pocket before sending Karu back into the endless night, then turned to the new additions. ¡°Jonet will show you to your quarters and give you a tour of the grounds. You¡¯re free to do whatever until further notice.¡±


    With a wave over my shoulder, I assumed my Wraith Form to dart through the formal areas, completely bypassing all the gawks and stares that would¡¯ve plagued me if I¡¯d just waltzed in. However, despite my efforts, a loud, hoarse shout rang through the service wing the moment I returned to my physical form.


    ¡°I cannot believe my eyes!¡± Following that exclamation, a certain silver-haired man bounced around the corner to take long strides in my direction. ¡°Look at Your Grace! You¡¯ve built up quite a stature, haven¡¯t you?¡± He laughed boisterously and swung, attempting to pat me on the shoulder. Only for his hand to phase right through a mass of shadow that reformed into my barreled-over body a second later.


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you too, Gerolt.¡± I laughed at his dumbstruck face.


    He, however, let out a strange type of nervous chuckle while he retracted his hand and rubbed it as if it¡¯d just been burned. After a few seconds, a kind of glint returned to his eyes before he returned his gaze to me with reborn vigor. ¡°You must be what, 180 centimeters tall by now?" He asked, uncaring or unnoticing of his sensory lapse. "How many kilos?¡±


    ¡°Probably around 65, if I were soaking wet.¡± I snorted. ¡°I¡¯ll always and forever be a scrawny half-drow, Gerolt.¡±


    ¡°One with insanely powerful sorcery.¡± He added with a wagging finger. ¡°Still, you¡¯ve packed on quite a bit of lean muscle over the years. You look good! Like one of those monks.¡± He grinned. Nodded. Then looked away and sighed. ¡°But¡­¡±


    ¡°Your Grace!¡± Ebbet rounded the corner and immediately closed the distance in a single stride to grab a handful of my locks. ¡°These need to be redone at once! They look far too shabby.¡±


    ¡°After I see my parents.¡± I quickly waved her aside. ¡°My hair can wait.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± She harrumphed, pivoting on her heels and beckoning for me to follow behind her. Once at my parent¡¯s lodge, she knocked three firm times before standing off to the side to presumably wait, sheer determination burning deep in her eyes.


    ¡°Amun.¡± Came a gentle voice.


    Turning, I couldn¡¯t help but match my father¡¯s smile. He snapped forward, pulling me inside the wing and into his embrace for a long moment before pulling me away from him to size me up.


    ¡°How was it?¡± He finally asked.


    I took a moment before answering to approach my mother, lounged across a sofa, to greet her with a firm squeeze of the hand. The radiance and warmth in her violet eyes stared at me, conveying more emotions than mere words ever could; it seemed we both had things that needed to be said. Regardless, I set the questions burning so deeply in my mind to the side as I sat across from my father at his desk and threw him a warm smile. ¡°It was fun.¡±


    His brows wrinkled in confusion a bit before returning to their neutral position a moment later. Leaning forward, he rested his chin on the backs of his hands and calmly said. ¡°Well. With the completion of your education and training, you are hereby free to live and act as you see fit as the Grand Duke of Odissi. Normally, this wouldn¡¯t happen until your 15th birthday. But- Well, I¡¯m sure you know.¡± He chuckled softly before splaying out a hand toward me. ¡°The awakening ceremony is on the first day Luxortia. So, what will you do for the next twelve and a half months?¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I picked up a few artisans while I was at the Tower. I plan to have them sell their wares in the formal hub, with your permission of course.¡±


    ¡°I see no issues with that.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I smiled. ¡°Other than that, we¡¯ll continue studying and training until it¡¯s time for the ceremony.¡± It was hard to tell if he was pleased or displeased as my father exchanged a curious look with my mother. ¡°Of course, our training will be done away from the estate.¡± I heavily sighed.


    ¡°Very well.¡± Father slowly turned back to me. ¡°Remember that if you ever need anything, just ask.¡±


    ''In that case.'' I grinned. ¡°Is there anything more to read in the estate? I read through the library years ago.¡±


    He exchanged another look with my mother, albeit a far more readable one, before turning his amused grin back to me.


    ¡°Above the ceiling, Amun.¡± He grinned.


    ¡°Ahh.¡± I nodded, turning on my feet to push through the door, ready to read to my heart''s content. Only for a cold hand to take hold of my shoulder, pinning me in place with the strength of a giant.


    ¡°With me, Your Grace.¡± Came Ebbet¡¯s cold, hard demand.

 46 - Last Ditch Efforts

    Following an extensive and painful hair appointment with Ebbet, I flew off to the library and ascended through the ceiling to find a relatively small office or study packed with dust-caked books, scrolls, and tomes galore.


    Seeing the veritable bounty before me, I dove headfirst into the books to try and find anything worthwhile; though, there was regrettably little of interest. Many of the tomes and grimoires were for shadow spells that I¡¯d already come to learn. Though there were a few illusion-type spells that I stored away in my Pocket to practice later. Quite disappointingly, a vast majority of the text consisted of legal and financial documents from a long-past age that¡¯d been strewn in with textbooks, tales, stories, and biographies about the many different deities or pantheons and adventures from older times. Through them and the books I¡¯ve read thus far, I did my best to piece together what I could of the expansion theory. Though, to not much surprise, there still wasn¡¯t much to learn in here.


    Regardless, I managed to confirm the full scope of humanity''s footprint across the Mortal Plane. Like humans and Maru; or Earth, the advertised species weren¡¯t the only beings found on other worlds. By historical accounts, the gates appeared nearly 1500 years ago. Linking the different realms of the Mortal Plane together. Those gates then remained open for over a millennium, allowing humanity to spread across nearly the entirety of the Plane. According to the tales, humans could be found from the Metropolis of Metals in Vagua, all the way to Sky Hill City, far beyond the White Wall. In Betrarth, Nonus, Maru; everywhere but Youtera, humans were found.


    Common knowledge, it¡¯d already been. That was true. Reading it now, however, I couldn¡¯t help but wonder about how these humans may have changed and evolved in these exotic lands throughout the last thousand years. For, if I have come to learn anything about mana in the past few years, it was that change was the essence of mana. In the same way that, through one process or another, an ordinary creature could evolve into a dire version of its species, gain sentience, or become magical; I was all but certain of there being some sort of change spurred forth by mana to assist these humans surviving in other realms. Necessitating more observations and yet more experiments.


    While the dozens of fantastical accounts all aligned with the same truth, I remained skeptical of their validity and thus reaffirmed my desire to see the different realms with my own eyes one day. Much like I wanted to do and eventually did with the worlds of the Sol System, I would bear witness to it all in due time.


    In three weeks'' time, I put my studies behind me and I joined my vassals in occupying our compound full-time. After bringing the place back up to snuff, the compound was expanded to make accommodations for the new additions. Including separate workshops and warehouses for the three of them. They got to work immediately. Ed made custom work tents for each of us that were easily collapsible into our dimensional rucks. Rudimentary things to ensure we¡¯d be able to handle our business in any environment. Simultaneously, Letta and Giorno went around to each of us to interview us on our particular styles and fashion needs. Then, they were rarely seen outside of training, our mealtimes, and the many times they approached us with massive bundles of clothes or cases and chests filled with watches or jewelry.


    Our schedule changed to a more cohesive routine around a month into our full-time occupation. At that point, we began waking at dusk to spend an hour or so conducting daily hygiene and having breakfast before we gathered in the clearing outside to begin the day with some warm-up exercises. Then, I¡¯d summon everyone¡¯s Doppelgangers and we¡¯d fight ourselves for the next few hours. After a short break, we¡¯d split up to practice spell development until we rendezvoused at the compound at midnight to eat or relax for a bit before going to work in our more specific roles. Such a schedule would continue for nine days out of the week. On the tenth day, we¡¯d gather in or outside and spend the night feasting, playing music, dancing, watching or participating in one of Jonet¡¯s plays, or otherwise enjoying each other¡¯s company. Forming quite a bond between us as the weeks passed into months. Conversely, we¡¯d split up every other week or so to go out hunting and fishing; sometimes with Gerolt. From our excursions, we were able to amass a sizable stockpile of provisions and building materials for the guild pool; stuffed away inside the wagon for later use. On top of that, the new additions were able to catch up to the rest of us in terms of pemmican reserves, seeds, and jugs of stored water.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Eventually, we were returning to the estate only once a fortnight, if not once a month to assure my father that all was well with us before I tried to acquire any kind of information I could from the place. Despite my efforts, Letta and Giorno never came with me on any of those excursions. In spite of the former''s claim of wanting to be rich, she instead insisted that she needed to produce a sizable stockpile of wares before she even thought about selling. Something I couldn¡¯t quite argue with, and something that Giorno seemed to agree with as well.


    Despite my curiosity remaining unsatiated, I decided it was best to wait until I was closer to awakening my cores before I sought out my mother for questioning. And oh, there were a lot of questions. But for once, I didn''t mind waiting. With my vassals being fully trained and self-sufficient, I reveled in my newfound freedom. My main purpose in training them so diligently was to instill a standard in them that they¡¯d pass on to anyone who¡¯d come to follow me in the future. Them knowing everything I wanted them to meant that the need for me to personally supervise them was now a thing of the past. Thus freeing up an abundance of time for me that could be spent doing the things I wanted or needed to do.


    And so, I endlessly drilled with my spear and daggers to develop muscle memory. I continuously trained up my spell proficiencies and worked on developing new spells. I tirelessly fought against my doppelganger; who¡¯d been growing alongside me since the day I first summoned him. And I relentlessly practiced my mana manipulation, elemental manipulation, and elemental fusion until they all become second nature. By Sextrand, the sixth month, I was proficient enough in my Mana Skin that I was able to keep a thin veil of condensed mana surrounding me with minimal effort. On top of that, I worked out a type of dual sight with my mana sight and regular vision, creating a type of lens or filter effect that overlaid the web of flowing energy onto whatever I was looking at.


    That breakthrough sprouted a series of experiments that revolved around making the most out of my Eternal Eye. Rationalized by the prospects of an upcoming journey and fueled by the nostalgia of my forsaken implants, I designed and implemented a basic heads-up display that would give me some basic information about my environment at a glance. Things I¡¯ve never or rarely paid attention to up until now, as well as a few additional widgets that took some time to develop. In all, I installed a temperature readout in the Kelvin scale, a rotating compass, a clock, a luminosity gauge, and a rudimentary geo-tagging system. On top of that, I furiously debated developing a type of system to track mana expenditure. Though, no matter how much I tried, I couldn¡¯t settle on a system that utilized anything but numbers. Which was a problem when I had no way to quantify mana. More importantly, I couldn¡¯t exactly justify spending so much mental effort on the task. Work was indeed measured by joules in the scientific world. Nevertheless, people rarely associated their efforts with a numerical value. And though a percentage was sometimes used; it wasn¡¯t often enough to be called common. Riding that train of thought, I tossed that matter aside and quickly moved on to a far more important function: Music.


    Within my Eternal eye was a vast library of not only technological marvels; there was music; podcasts; tv shows; movies; video games; and other media that all contained pricelessly timeless tunes, information, and quotes. Through the spiritual organ, each of the memories was now able to be played back to my senses with the utmost clarity. Wherever I was, whatever I was doing, I could listen to my heart''s content without making as much as a peep to the outside world. A function that seemed to make the final months of the year pass by like seconds. And before I knew it, my 15th birthday was right around the corner.

 47 - Telins Intervention

    Though I turned 15 on the 9th day of Noxtranus, the 11th month of the year, nearly another month and a half passed before my mother came to our little fort all by her lonesome.


    Though the celebration was far more remarkable than anything I''d gone through thus far, not much happened after. On that day, a course of events transpired in ways that were similar to my fifth birthday. My father appeared at our compound to beckon me back to the estate. And after hours of feasting and festivities, the staff and my family all gathered around to give me gift after gift after gift.


    From Ebbet, I received an unassuming bedroll that was nearly as soft and plush as the woobie Giorno made. An item that would remain with for as long as possible. Gerolt, on the other hand, gave me something that would probably not be used, at least by me: a bow and quiver that he purchased for a high price, coupled with a complete butcher''s set. And then there were my father''s gifts, which seemed to know no bounds.


    First was a train that was completely identical to his. A seemingly useless thing to have once I left the Empire. But with my core awakening on the horizon, I couldn''t help but feel excited as I dragged the massive machine into my shadow. His second gift was my very own boat. A yacht by all accounts. Though it was far smaller than the craft we rode to the mainlands on, it was still more than enough for the seven of us to ride comfortably in. His third and final gift was an absolutely monumental horde of coins he claimed to be my savings account. A trust fund, essentially. A pool of wealth my parents had been investing in since I was first conceived. In his words, the underground of these realms runs ever-deep; yet below that lies the Darkworld: a place so far beneath the surface, metals become as common as dirt. Because of that, what had been my daily allowance was only one one-hundredth of the money they''d been setting aside for me. And even that fraction had been rebated by my father.


    It''d been years since I last checked my wallet. After spending so much on the mana wells, I needn''t a reason to check it. Thus looking at it now was numbing to the mind. Even for royalty. Looking back, however, my income had been large from the start. Still, I couldn''t help but retrace my second life and go through each and every transaction I''ve made thus far; not that there were many to begin with. At three, tenday weeks per month coupled with a daily allowance of 1,000 gold coins, my ''allowance'' equated to 30,000 gold a month. The product of that and 13 months a year equated to an annual sum of 390,000 gold. Multiplying that by five years, until I was ten, brought my balance to around 1.95 million altogether. Reducing my three veteran vassal''s pay of 3,900 gold a year, for five years, brought that down by 58,500 gold, equating to around 1.98 million. And after spending 600k on external wells, that went down to around 1.29 million. Another four years of paying my vassals with no allowance brought that down to about 1.23 million. More like 1.21, after making a few purchases here and there for the tinkerer''s competition. The last year of allowance and paying five vassals finally brought my sum total back up to about 1.6 million.


    Now, however, I received the first five years of my allowance, plus the other 99 parts he held on to. In short...


    [Wallet: 549,819,600 G.C.]


    I know the Empire was wealthy, but even that gave me a moment of surprise. As extensive as my father''s gifts were, however, my mother had yet to give me anything. As such, I couldn''t help but feel a little hopeful as I stepped out of the compound to meet her.


    My vassals seemed surprised to find such an esteemed lady walking around the woods in the middle of the night. But I knew better than to think of what I assumed to be a quite old drow in such a light manner.


    "Gather yours and Your Lord''s things and return to the estate. The departure for the Iron Mountain is at dawn." She regally snapped, prompting them to rise from their knees and scramble back into the compound at once while my mother gestured me to her side.


    While my mind moved at near lightspeed, I calmly stepped into line beside her and started on a slow trek back to the estate. ''Finally.'' I grinned in euphoria at the thought of finally awakening my cores and putting the laundry list of spells I''ve imagined to the test.


    <<I''ve rarely seen you so filled with mirth.>> Mother giggled in her native tongue.


    <<I am only excited to show you these things I have gathered.>> I sang. Then threw a bit of shade on the ground. <<I have been wanting to show you this.>>


    Much to my delight, she affectionately gushed over the wagon the moment I brought it out. I made sure to give credit where it was due and told her that Ed, the neurotic one, was the creator. She praised him for his efforts and me for having the insight to recruit such a skilled individual at a young age before settling inside and calming down; if only a bit. Her eyes wandered around the carriage, yet her focus remained on me. Almost... waiting for me to talk. So I decided now was as good a time as any to voice my theories to her.


    <<Forced what?>> Her head instantly recoiled something not far off from disgust. In turn, I explained my theory much as I had to my Great-Grandfather and carefully judged her reaction while doing so. Though, to little avail. She had an excellent poker face. As expected as a drow of her age.


    ''How old are you, anyways?'' I squinted at her.


    <<What you call, ''forced expansion'' is but one of the three most important pieces of elven knowledge given to the denizens of Maru.>> Mother explained. <<All knowledge given to them are methods of empowerment. Yet they are capable of being performed by all creatures in the universe. One of them is what you call this... forced expansion.>> She almost giggled. But not in the way one would think. <<Another ability is something capable of being wielded only by humans. A ritual they call the Core Awakening Ceremony.>>


    ''That checks out.'' I nodded, asking. <<And the last?>>


    <<Class Evolution.>> She calmly stated. Then began explaining before I could begin to ask. <<You have been told countless times you are a Sorcerer, no? That is one of your classes.>>


    ''One of them.'' I scoffed to myself. <<And what exactly is forced expansion?>> I asked.


    In that instant, her poker face broke. It peeled back into a subtle and intent gaze that implicated that something had been confirmed by what I''d just said before reverting back to unbridled amiability the next instance. A shocking contradiction in relation to her actions. Wherein she calmly reached into the folds of her robe to withdraw a cylindrical object that was roughly the size of an empty toilet paper roll. Only made of a crystalline material that held back a thick soup of vibrant blue-white energy. Additionally, there was something I instantly recognized: a spider-shaped brooch. Imbued with the same thick mana as the Well. It was quite a dark surprise, considering my mother never wore anything of the sort. It was always silks and robes of the same purple moon color as her skin and eyes.


    <<Judging from your expression, I would say you know what this is.>>


    <<A mana well.>> I nodded. <<But from what kind of creature?>>


    <<A Youteran divine beast.>> She calmly said. <<Have you ever looked at my well, my Son?>>


    <<In passing.>> I shrugged. <<I operated under the assumption that it was¡­ invasive.>>


    <<No more invasive than gazing upon someone in the dark.>> She shrugged in turn. <<If it is something you can blatantly see, why would you not look at it?>>


    <<Fair point, I suppose.>> I shrugged, lowering my eyes to focus on the glowing ''heart'' beneath the folds of my mother''s clothes. It was¡­ large. Huge, in fact. Nearly twice the size of mine and brimming with the same blinding, blue-white energy. Mana. Yet far different from the cobalt-colored fluid surrounding us.


    <<You may have heard that a human can have a well no larger than the twelfth grade. This possibly causes you a bit of confusion, seeing as your well is larger than that of the largest humans. .>> She paused, eliciting an affirmative nod from me before she continued. <<The truth is this: Elves and all other creatures from Youtera can possess far larger wells that contain far higher concentrations of mana. The nature of our Tree of Life is mana. Thus our limit is much, much higher. Mine is in the twenty-fifth grade.>> She gestured to herself. <<You have been estimated to match the size of my well. Though the device used to do so measured you wrongly, at a D-12. A half-drow such as yourself should have at least a fifteenth-grade well. Though, your particular circumstance may prove to be much higher.>>


    My brow inquisitively raised at the sound of her words. Yet, I could say nothing as she held the Well up in my face and said. <


    > She coldly warned as she placed it in my hand. Despite its size, it was curiously light in my hand. Almost like it wasn''t even there at all. <<After a few minutes, the contents of that mana well will force their way back into your spirit.>>


    <<How does that help?>> I looked up at her, shaking my head in confusion.


    <<Alone, it doesn''t.>> She giggled softly and reached back into her sleeve to hand me a large flask. "A cup of this potion will unbind the restrictions on your mana pores. Fully, for a few minutes. And permanently, to a lesser extent>>


    <<I see.>> I nodded, taking the potion. ''It''s like a capacitor mixed with a compressor. Or...'' <<I place all of my mana into this external well, mixing it with the mana within. With the potion, my spiritual well will recharge before that mixed mana returns. Forcefully.>> I added, staring at her for confirmation and getting nothing in return. <<...compressing the mana within my well. Or expanding it. Or both.>> I shrugged.


    <<Correct.>> She nodded, showing the smallest hints of pride.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    <<But then that begs the question.>> I shook my head in confusion. <<What is denser than a diamond?>>


    <<That is the human within you speaking.>> Mother harrumphed in laughter. <<You think of the energy in your body as a material. As a substance akin to water or crystals. While partially true, the Weave is much more, my Son.


    <<Mana.>> Mother exclaimed. <<In its purest form, mana looks like this.>> She gestured to both her well and the one grasped in my hand. <<Energy that we of the Fey call, Arcana. Or Arcane Mana.>>


    <<And I''m supposed to have this¡­ arcana? You''re just¡­ giving it to me?>> I hesitantly asked. It seemed the sheer shock of her compliance was getting to me.


    <<You seem surprised.>> She giggled, following a subtle nod and long pause.


    <<I just expected some sort of resistance, is all.>> I sighed.


    <<I am not fickle and dishonest like your Great-Grandfather.>> She huffed. <<Knowledge is power, as I am sure you know. Why would I not bestow such a thing on my beloved son?>>


    <<Then, you''ll tell me anything?>> I intently squinted.


    <<I intended to tell you the truth behind your existence when you became of age.>> She nodded. <<That time is now. All you need to do is ask. Though, I expect you to have more knowledge than I do in regard to some things.>>


    <<Okay then.>> I nodded. <<What do you know of gods?>>


    <<I know of many.>> She blankly blinked. <<I know of you. And like you, I am a Cleric to one. Though, the one associated with you is the reason why I am here. He is the reason why any of us are here. He is why we elves do the things we do. However cruel or illogical they may seem.>>


    ''Ah.'' I nodded internally. ''So they don''t worship Telin as he said. They just do his bidding.''


    <<I see.>> I finally said. <<So then, why are you here?>>


    <<Almost fifteen centuries ago, a series of portals or gates opened across each of the inhabited realms.>> She explained, cueing my series of nods and affirmative grunts. <<It took us ten centuries to learn the secrets of the gates. The moment we did, we closed them. Then spent a hundred years culling the intruders from our realm. Orcs, demons, humans; none were spared from our crusades. In the process, we grew to understand more of ourselves than we could ever hope to imagine. We learned of mana, magic, and our nature as Children of the Fae. After the culling, we had risen to the pinnacle of existence on the Mortal Plane, surpassing even dragons and demons. And it was at that time when an eternal deity known as Telin made himself known to our people.>>


    She paused as if she were waiting for some type of reaction on my part. I however was too engrossed in the story to feint any type of surprise. It wasn''t as if she''d have believed my lies anyway. Instead, I could only ask questions.


    <<What did he look like?>>


    <<After his presence faded.>> She continued with no regard for my question. <<We spent years convening to understand just what our species had witnessed. After many years, we learned that he appeared to each of us in a different way. He spoke to all of us in a different voice. And most importantly, he gave each of us different tasks.


    <<High Elves were tasked with finding gifted mages. Particularly a mage with barrier magic, but also Jamettus Deapou and others, to empower them through ritual; binding their magic to their bloodline in much the same way as yours. Elves of the Forest were instructed to travel across Maru and share these secrets of elven knowledge with the humans. meanwhile, we drow were told to inform the humans of the Darkworld and the bounty of wealth within, we helped cull and secure their world, and we were tasked with reopening the Marulean gate at a specific time, at a specific location.


    <<Yet these were only the most specific tasks. In the grand scheme of things, every elf was tasked with preparing for the arrival of Telin''s Champion. Elves of the Frost; of the Sea; of the Woods; Dark; Desert; Mountain; Sky, and High. All were tasked with preparing the realms for you. But only I was tasked with retrieving that.>> She pointed to the well in my hand. <<Only I was to then travel through that Marulean gate. I was to then find the Royal Beloved by Darkness. I was to sire a child with that man. And then, I was to bless that child with material wealth, love, knowledge, and power, until he attended the awakening ceremony. I was to then give him the well I acquired so long ago, and pass along the mark of his people.


    <<That brooch will signal your station to any elf old enough to know the truth behind Telin''s Intervention. Though I am sure you will rarely need it. Unfortunately, however, I am not the one tasked with teaching you our ways.>>


    ''Sounds like the buildup to a bad story.'' I snorted internally before she continued.


    <<I will be leaving this place with you, Son.>> She wearily sighed. <<I am to return to Youtera as you are to head to the Imperial Capital and awaken your affinity cores. Once you mature as an elf, you are expected to come to Youtera to study the art of mana forging. I will not be the one to retrieve you for this. However, I am tasked with teaching you. Wherein my tasks will finally be complete.>> She wore a hopeful expression with those words.


    I mean, she probably has. ''I could only imagine why.'' I internally shook my head, then turned to her again. <<And what of the ceremony?>>


    <<As I said, in addition to teaching humans about¡­ forced expansion.>> She giggled again. <<The high elves were tasked with sharing our technology with humanity.>>


    ''Technology?'' my ears perked up.


    <<The first was a construct that would awaken additional affinity cores in humans with Slush Wells or higher. One simply needs to deposit the required amount of mana into the construct, sending a pulse out into the heavens and in turn, depositing their cores. The humans believe the gods or the divine beasts of the Mortal Plane to be the source of their power. But¡­ well, I am sure you know.>>


    <<Yes.>> I nodded. Though I''m sure it wasn''t as she assumed. Telin was a science nerd, like me. The driving force behind it may have been magical, but my rebirth clearly showed some sort of automated process being used to decide upon my lineage and other factors of my birth. It would only stand to reason he''d use the same method to distribute cores to humans instead of picking and choosing each one as he did with me. What parameters that system used, was the only question that remained.


    <<And of the classes?>> I asked. <<You mentioned something about evolution.>>


    <<Like divine beasts,>> She said. <<There are divine trees. Trees of Life give rise to all creatures in each realm. From the edge of the sky to the depths of the Darkworld, these trees spread. Trees of Knowledge are not commonly viewed as trees but as towers; such as Corvus. Finally, there are Trees of Mana, the divine trees we elves grew to master. Before we had to rely on knowledge passed down through generations, we learned to see the paths one needed to take to evolve. That was when Telin appeared to us, demanding we share this knowledge with all other sentient races. Though, it seems the one we shared it with hasn''t shared it in turn.>>


    <<It''s like my Great-Grandfather said, the academy has a monopoly on knowledge.>> I commented aloud, then waved the matter aside and leaned in a bit over the table. <<One more question. Ever since I could remember, I''ve been having the same dream while I meditate. Is that normal?>>


    <<Ah.>> Her head rocked back as her eyes filled with either melancholy or nostalgia or perhaps both. <<It is said that we elves dream of our primordial selves during our adolescence. Our past lives, from a time when we were more than just elves. That said, I doubt that is the case for you, my Son.>>


    "Hmm." I scratched my chin in contemplation. <<Going by that logic, it would be safe to assume I am dreaming of my ancestors. The beginning of my human lineage, perhaps? Or an important part of it, at least.>>


    <<I have no way of knowing.>> Mother calmly shook her head.


    <<I was merely thinking aloud.>> I reassured her with an open palm before bowing in thanks. <<Thank you, Mother.>>


    <<Hmm.>> She softly purred before leaning closer over the table. <<With the completion of this task, your blessings have been cut short. Now, I have one question for you, my Son. What is it that Telin''s Champion seeks?>>


    <<Knowledge.>> I snorted out a laugh and shrugged. Causing her to recoil abruptly in shock. The jig was up, after all. <<I have no wish to rule or conquer anything. Nor did Telin bring me here for any specific purpose, other than to live freely. The guild and empire I plan to form are only a means to an end. A way for my friends and followers to live peaceful lives while I explore these realms and learn everything I can.>>


    <<And what if, when you have explored and learned, you dislike what you saw, and what you learned turned your heart sour? What happens if you see only misery and misfortune throughout your days? If you find others hating you for your mere existence, what then?>>


    <<If and when I explore everything there is to explore, I will create a quiet place to call home and live out the rest of my days surrounded by my friends. If the latter comes true>> I shrugged again. <<Then, I will work to remake the realms around me into something a bit more exciting.>>


    <<Such as?>> Mother leaned closer.


    <<Something entirely different.>> I shrugged. <<As such, I cannot know. But it will be something that resets everything. Something that changes the paradigm, or at least gives me something else to spend a few lifetimes exploring. As I said, I have no wish to rule over anyone. Nor was I born in this universe to bring judgment on anyone, only to live freely. Thus I will combine my knowledge and this universe''s magic to birth an empire capable of granting people the freedom to live as they wish. I do not care what happens outside of that.>>


    <<I see.>> She sighed almost in relief, then motioned to stop the carriage and proceeded to disembark.


    Following a long, spine-popping hug, she pulled away to step off towards the woodline. Only to stop at the edge and turn to look over her shoulder.


    Looking closely, it wasn''t hard to see a subtle quiver running down her spine, a sudden glaze in her eyes, and a noticeable wavering in her voice as she said. <<This is the last time we shall see each other until you come to Youtera. Always remain proud of the fact that you are drow. And never let anything best you. From the bottom of my heart, I love you, Amun of Odissi. My beloved son.>>


    <<I love you too, Mom.>> I called after her fading afterimage.


    After a few moments of standing idly in the snowfall, I climbed back into the wagon and resumed the journey to the estate in silence, gathering my thoughts until well after Karu halted at the walls. My mind continued racing, even after my vassals arrived and we entered the estate to hear the elated greetings and comments from the staff regarding the upcoming ceremony. Unsurprisingly, my father was nowhere to be found. I highly doubted my mother''s disappearance came from left field. But that didn''t change the fact that the man obviously loved her, and was now heartbroken.


    Looking back at my own conversation with the deity, his mention of luck directly implied he''d be challenging me or assessing me in more ways than he described. In what way exactly, was my biggest guess. It could have been something as simple as changing the paradigm, something as cliche as killing my family, or something as predictable as placing millions of lives at risk for the sake of judging how I would react or perhaps test my morals. On the contrary, it could have all been an elaborate hoax to make me paranoid; or he could do nothing but watch and see what I''ll do with absolute power. Considering his meddling with the elves, I couldn''t help but think of my father and wonder if his love was due to Telin''s influence as well. Unlikely as that seemed. It''s been said time and time again that humans knew nothing of elven knowledge. But that was just that- hearsay. He could be a subconscious actor in Telin''s play without even knowing it. Or, he could simply be another elder soul. A seed of consciousness that was as loving and caring as he''d been in every life he''d lived up to this point.


    Regardless of what was true, I couldn''t exactly tell if I''d be sad or enraged if he were to die. And despite me being a bit saddened by her abrupt departure, such feelings were extended toward my mother as well. While they gave me a lot, I hadn''t exactly spent a lot of time with them growing up. I''ve bonded the most with my vassals. Day in and day out. For a decade now at this point, we''ve trained, learned, and lived together. I could safely say I''d be veritably pissed if they were to meet an untimely demise. An inevitable effect of me personally training them, I supposed.


    But then again, it wasn''t as if death would be the end for them.


    On the contrary, death was simply a new beginning.

 48 - Forced Expansion

    My father joined in on the fun just as it was dying down. Even a blind man could look at him and see the pain he was feeling. The slouched shoulders, indifferent gaze, and monotonous mumbles were all things I¡¯ve seen and experienced many times over. What was worse, I somewhat sympathized with him.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve been told,¡± he calmly said to me. ¡°We¡¯re to depart in the morning. Our grandfather should be here by then. When we arrive, we¡¯ll have court with the royal family. And make sure you take everything with you.¡± He added with a pointed finger. ¡°You won¡¯t be returning for a few years at least.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡± I solemnly bowed. Then watched him return to his somber state of solitude without another word.


    I waited a few moments before I corralled my vassals into the courtyard I used to frequent. With little words on my part, they arranged themselves in a semi-circle around me to either sit or stand idly atop the igneous platform while I mentally prepared myself. ¡°Before we begin,¡± I finally said. ¡°I¡¯d like to ask you all a question. Do you know the density and size of your mana wells?¡±


    ¡°They told us when we arrived at the Tower.¡± Toril quickly nodded. ¡°I have a twelfth-grade Ice Well.¡±


    ¡°Mine is twelfth grade too!¡± Letta beamed, then regressed in both posture and vocal intensity as she murmured. ¡°But, it¡¯s a Slush Well.¡±


    ¡°Slush. Eleventh grade.¡± Jonet calmly stated just after.


    Followed by Jaimess. ¡°Eighth grade. Also Slush.¡±


    ¡°Ninth grade.¡± Giorno nonchalantly stated from the far end. ¡°Slush.¡±


    ¡°U- uh¡­¡± Came the last, neurotic voice. ¡°I have a sixth-grade Slush Well.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± With a sigh, I squatted to dip my hand into the web of darkness between my feet. From it, I pulled the six wells I purchased from Manilia and divvied them out to the awaiting hands. " Years and years ago, realized that no matter how powerful I become, I cannot protect everyone. Thus I won''t protect anyone. Instead, I decided to grant my followers knowledge and power so they could protect themselves. To that end, I developed a theory I dubbed Forced Expansion based on the things I''ve noticed in my studies. A method to increase the size and density of one''s mana well. My great-grandfather more or less confirmed my hypothesis during my tenure at the Tower. I purchased these Wells for you all around five years ago, shortly after your competition began." I said to the tinkerers, then paused to withdraw the accompanying potions. "They are ninth-grade Ice wells acquired from demons. They cost me quite a bit of gold, but the payoff is more than worth the cost, of that I am certain. Despite that, I didn''t have one for myself. Until now.


    ¡°My mother has returned to Youtera.¡± I declared, then retrieved the vibrant crystal and large flask she¡¯d just given me. ¡°Before she departed, however, she gifted me with these and the knowledge of how to use them. In short, this potion will force your mana pores open for a short time. Your mana then flows into this external well, mixing your energy with the contents. Due to the potion''s effect, your mana wells will recharge before the energy returns to you. Thus compacting and expanding your wells. Forcefully. I assume it will be extremely painful. But pain leads to growth."


    Following a soft gasp, Ed lifted the well up to eye level ¡°So, it¡¯s like jamming a slush well and an ice well on top of each other.¡± He then turned his wide eyes to me. ¡°Does that mean we¡¯ll have diamond wells?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m unsure, but I doubt it.¡± I shrugged out a snort, then nodded towards my knight. ¡°Toril will probably have a diamond well. Seeing as he''s already at the brink.¡±


    ¡°In that case.¡± Toril turned to me in kind. ¡°What kind of well do you have? What will yours become?¡±


    ¡°As a half-elf, my well is able to grow much larger than the rest of yours. Right now, I don''t know what I have. The scale used shortly after I was born was said to measure a twelfth-grade diamond well. Though it appears much larger. After this," I held out the cylinder before me, ¡°my mana will be purified and concentrated into something called arcane energy.¡±


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard tales of elves being absurdly powerful,¡± Giorno commented to himself as he tapped at his chin. ¡°I wonder if that¡¯s the reason why. Arcane energy?¡±


    ¡°How powerful are they?¡± Letta leaned over to meet his gaze.


    ¡°As powerful as dragons and demons,¡± Giorno said, slowly turning his eyes to me.


    ¡°The only way of knowing is to learn for ourselves.¡± I sighed, rising to my feet. As if on cue, the rest stepped forward, grabbing their wells and chalices to take in their share of the potion.


    Toril was the first to say what everyone seemed to be thinking next. ¡°So.¡± He took a deep sigh and looked around. ¡°Who wants to go first?¡±


    ¡®Lead by example, Amun.¡¯ I told myself after a few seconds. And with a deep breath, I pressed the bottle against my lips and upturned the dull-blue waters into my maw.


    According to my mother, only a single cup was the dosage needed to cue the effect. In my lust and greed for power; or in my paranoia of misfortune, I sought to finish off whatever was left in the hopes that my pores would remain in their fully opened state indefinitely. Thus like a frat boy chugging from a boot, I drank and drank and drank the dull blue liquid until only a few viscous remains were dripping from the lip.


    Going down, the fluid burned like ghost peppers ground into a liquid. My throat, esophagus, and stomach felt as if they¡¯d been filled with lava. Radiating a blistering heat that rapidly spread to my skin and eventually forced its way out through my very skin. Opening the gates from the inside, in a sense, to allow the ambient slush-like fluid to cascade toward me without relenting. Acknowledging my ignorance of any time constraints, I quickly palmed the well in both hands before focusing on the crystalline energy within me. I imagined a connection, a conduit, or a line stretching from my well towards my palms; and with the slightest tug, the energy began breaking off from my well at an alarming rate.


    Glacial chunks of the stuff tore away from the main body like a satellite caught inside its parent body¡¯s Roche Limit. Within seconds, the entire thing was ripped apart from the core. Broken into a stream of subliming comets that fell up and out my arms, condensed and gushed down my arms as a tidal wave of mana. The way it slammed to a turbulent halt against the dam at the edge of my palms sent deafening cracks throughout the courtyard, leaving mana well fragile enough to crack like glass under pressure. The sound spread and quickened in intensity as a gap opened in the cylinder, draining the pool of mana gathered in my hands at a faster and faster rate until every drop flowed to the other side.


    And then, I wavered.


    A wave of fatigue hit me like a phantom truck. Rather than killing me on the spot, it left me feeling as if I just ran a dozen marathons in under a minute. My breath was raggedly hoarse and my muscles were cramping and knotting up so tightly it felt like my ligaments, tendons, and very bones were splitting apart; and all the while, my head throbbed with a searing migraine. That feeling: Mana Exhaustion, was then compounded by the lingering effects of the potion. Invoking a moment of pain that seemed to drag on for hours until the ambient mana began surging around me. Swarming into me. Brushing away the sudden pain and exhaustion as the energy filled my spiritual organ at a furious pace.


    With my well nearly recharged, I closely studied the container in my hands. Like my mother''s well. Just as large. Just as vibrant: a dense soup of a blue-green plasma violently churning inside the cracked, crystalline structure. Then, it happened. The ear-piercing cracks returned in full force, breaking the cylinder into two pieces that fell apart from each other as my hands were forced to my sides. At that moment, I felt as if my entire being had been crushed by a pair of ungodly hands, forcing me into a strained squat just to remain standing against the force. Grunting in pain as the crackling energy forced its way into my body and latched onto the energy in my well, transitioning this crushing feeling into one of internal pressure pushing against something immovable; like a star in its main sequence.


    As the seconds passed, my own pained sounds and the worried noises of my vassals became more and more distant; yet, the feeling only intensified. It soon began to feel like every cell in my body, every fiber of every muscle was overcharged with energy and on the brink of an explosion. But I pressed on. One of the many benefits of my extensive training with Grandpa Lich was that I knew exactly where my limit was. I had an extremely accurate gauge of how long I could toe the line with death before falling over. So I continued. I endured long after the migraines returned. I persisted through the nosebleeds. I persevered until I coughed blood on the ground before me. But it still wasn¡¯t enough. A sliver of energy remained. The backwash in the bottle was unfinished. The tiny amount of liquid held back by the lip of the mouth remained when I found myself tipping over the line.


    And so, I pictured the result of my intent and hurriedly sought to relieve the pressure in the easiest way I could think.

 49 - The Darkest Hour

    Well, that was embarrassing.


    With my shadow sorcery being the only thing in my arsenal that wouldn¡¯t indiscriminately hurt anyone, I had no choice but to release enough of the energy to compensate for the mana remaining in the well. Despite the relatively small amount of mana needed to equalize the imbalance, the result of my cast was the largest cloud of shadow flatulence that had ever plagued Odissi, I was sure. For, inside the domain I created, I could see everything.


    Almost in an omniscient sense, I could see the entirety of the estate and beyond, wherever I looked. Everyone in it, from my father, sighing heavily at his desk, to Gerolt and Ebbet turning and fidgeting around in a panic, I could see. Turning, the surrounding woods warped to my line of sight like I¡¯d been dragged forward through space at lightspeed. Eager to find the edge, I continued on to see the docks and railways on the southern coast before turning tail and looking northbound past our complex, across the sea, and settling my gaze on the docks emplaced on the ice sheet surrounding the Twin Capitals. Looking east, I could even see the Emperor¡¯s castle, thousands of kilometers away. And far past it to the eastern coast of the Ridge.


    ¡®W- where am I?¡± Toril¡¯s panicked voice rang out, summoning me back to the courtyard.


    ¡®I forgot you all don¡¯t have night vision.¡¯ I turned with a sigh to see his unsaturated figure feverishly turning about in place. ¡°We¡¯re still in the courtyard,¡± I calmly said. ¡°Just, expand your wells already.¡±


    Each of them threw hesitant, concerned, or reluctant expressions at wherever they thought I was standing before going through the process; some of them at a slower pace than others.


    ¡°Remember that my well was a tier above yours.¡± I reminded them. ¡°Mine was given to me by my mother, taken from, in her words, a Youteran divine beast. Yours are from demons. So the process will be easier.¡±


    ¡®Should be, at least.¡¯ I openly grinned. Then sprung forward just before Toril cursed under his breath.


    ¡°I- I dropped the bottle.¡± Toril sheepishly mumbled.


    ¡°Hold our your hands.¡± I quickly ordered.


    Rather abruptly, he thrust his arms outwards like he pushed someone in front of him. From that and his blatant discomfort, I couldn¡¯t help but silently laugh as my Umbral Hand placed his potion in his palms; and without further adieu, Toril knocked his head back to spill the liquid into his mouth. By then, most of the others had already consumed their brews and were sending resonating cracks through the domain from their energies slamming against their external wells. At which time I began floating around the immediate environment to carefully watch the process unfold.


    Naturally, Toril experienced the worst of it. Almost like me, he fell to his knees in exhaustion after the well within his palm had been filled. Focusing my eyes, I then saw the ambient mana begin to cascade- or rather, dance and swirl into his entire body, falling from whatever space it¡¯d been occupying to be replaced with more energy out of seemingly thin air. It was a much more elegant sight than what was seen in the others, a vortex, more or less. Yet nevertheless, their wells were topped off with vibrantly blue energy all the same. Then, thick snakes of the stuff began flowing back into Toril¡¯s arms, causing him to double over in pain, but not to as high of a degree as I was. Yet far more than the others.


    From my perspective, the effect lasted for only a few seconds before Toril recovered. And within less than a minute, all four of them were standing tall before me with wells brimming with much denser energy than what they¡¯d just contained. Looking at them in my dual-vision, I could clearly see Ice Wells of varying sizes within the rest of them and a crystalline cylinder only a fair bit smaller than what existed in my knight''s chest before. Conversely, mine resembled the recondite substance I saw in my mother down to the T. The only difference was, mine was a bit smaller and of a different color: a beautiful seafoam green with hints of white. Nevertheless, it was filled to the brim with arcane energy. Another tool in my arsenal that I was more than eager to experiment with.


    Only¡­


    ¡°Amun!¡± My father¡¯s voice came rolling through the darkness. ¡°What did you do!?¡±


    I turned to him at once, bowing apologetically. ¡°I had a little accident. I¡¯ll begin cleaning it at once.¡± I didn¡¯t even give him a moment to reply before stepping aside to begin swarming the shadows into a dense ball and directing it into the shadow realm.


    ¡°That¡¯s one way to do it.¡± He frowned in approval. Then joined in on my efforts.


    ¡°How would you do it?¡±


    He finished throwing a mass of darkness into the gloom before relaxing his posture with a heavy sigh, then turned to me. Smirking as cryptically said: ¡°It¡¯s your mana, Amun. Put it back where it came from.¡±


    My curiosity had been piqued.


    With naught but a raised brow, I turned my attention to the vast cloud of shadows surrounding the empire and did just as he said. I pulled it inward, indiscriminately collapsed it into the spiritual body where my well resided; and much like it behaved on the way out, my shadow mana swirled and pooled and condensed inside my flesh, taking root in every cell of my body in mere minutes.


    With the umbral cloud cleared, I found myself standing between my scattered vassals and my father. Staring dumbfounded at my grimoire, spawning a new page before my eyes.


    [Semi-Permanent Wraith Form] - While saturated with darkness, your body retains the immaterial properties of the Wraith Form in both without using your mana. 719:59:59]


    ¡°I heard your mother spoke to you about your elven lineage,¡± Father said, prompting my vassals to step out from the courtyard to give us some privacy. ¡°I assumed that had something to do with it.¡± He paused to gesture around us. ¡°It¡¯s not my place to ask the specifics, so I won¡¯t. But. I will tell you that with your fifteenth birthday, comes freedoms you must be aware of.¡±


    I turned to fully face and look at him to give him the entirety of my respect and attention before I nodded for him to continue.


    ¡°You are now considered an adult, Amun. On top of that, you are an Initiate Sorcerer. Even though you are royalty, you are now legally unbound to the Odissian Empire. You are hereby free to travel across the realm of Maru as you see fit. However.¡± He paused, seemingly by the hand of a weary, yet heartwarming smile that forced him to grip his chest tightly. ¡°We¡¯ll be accompanying you to the capital for the ceremony. after that, you never have to return to this place again.¡±


    I took an unconscious step forward. ¡°It¡¯s not as if I¡¯m unhappy here. I couldn¡¯t have asked for a better family. I have always been happy.¡±


    ¡°That warms my heart to hear.¡± He smiled ever-wider. ¡°But, I don¡¯t want you to forsake your dreams, Amun. You¡¯ve devoted yourself to exploring the Mortal Plane in its entirety, have you not? Worrying about our Empire or returning home after every adventure will do you no good.¡±


    ¡°But-¡±


    ¡°No buts!¡± He pointed. ¡°Your Great-Grandfather has lived for centuries. He¡¯s faced things we couldn¡¯t imagine. He, the Emperor, and myself have contingencies in place to protect us in the event of things turning for the worse. You don¡¯t have to worry about protecting us. Though.¡± He turned. ¡°I would appreciate a visit every so often.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try my best.¡± I smiled, stepping in for a hug. ¡°That said.¡± I pulled away to show him the devious grin plastered across my face. ¡°I have been toying with the idea of integrating these lands into my own empire one day. But.¡± I shrugged, turning towards the exit. "Perhaps that¡¯s a bit of a stretch.¡±


    Leaving the courtyard, I wandered around the service wing to check up on my vassals¡¯ progress and ensure they had their belongings packed away. As expected, each of their rooms was barren to the bones, though they themselves were huddled in the service wing for a light meal and amiable conversation with Gerolt. I hated to do it, but I interrupted their pleasantries to kindly remind my vassals that it was past midnight and the ceremony was to take place in the afternoon. Meaning, they should get some sleep. Unless of course, they wanted to be groggy on the big day.


    Somewhat begrudgingly, they all mumbled their agreements and trotted off to their rooms. Leaving me to take their places and join Gerolt for a meal.


    ¡°You know, you should lead by example, Your Grace.¡± He teasingly chided.


    ¡°Need I remind you, that I¡¯m half-drow.¡± I snickered. ¡°Four hours of meditation is all I need.¡±


    His cheerful smirk curled a bit higher as his head rocked backward, and he chortled. ¡°So you say.¡± Before looking at the dishes strewn about before him for a few long moments. ¡°Say.¡± He pointed his eyes back to me. Eyes that were without the exuberant fire that was synonymous with the name Gerolt Flay. ¡°How about I cook you a final meal?¡±


    ¡°What about breakfast?¡± I lightheartedly snorted.


    Thankfully, he seemed to lighten up a bit. ¡°A custom meal!¡± He pointed after raising himself up on his toes. ¡°What¡¯re you in the mood for?¡±


    ¡°Actually¡° I palmed the surface of the table, opening my Shadow Pocket while beaming as wide as I could. ¡°This is the perfect opportunity to give you your gift.¡±


    ¡°My gift?¡± He shook his head and backed away, blinking madly.


    ¡°It¡¯s a cookbook.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°THAT¡¯S A COOKBOOK!?!¡± He sprang forward at once to measure the thickness between his fingers before slicking through the pages at a furious pace. ¡°I mean, thank you! These are all recipes?¡±


    ¡°Every page.¡± I nodded again.


    ¡°Where did you learn these dishes?¡± He airily gasped after a few moments. ¡°They¡¯re so¡­ exotic.¡±


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Just some things I picked up or imagined over the years." I meekly shrugged. ¡°Mixed with a few things I saw in the mainland.¡±


    ¡°Ooh! This looks good. Car- Carbon.¡±


    ¡°Carbonara.¡± I corrected.


    He pried his face from the pages, gasping in disbelief. ¡°How do you come up with these names.¡±


    ¡°I have an extensive imagination,¡± I said. Hastily taking the book from his hands to flip it to my most desired entry at the moment. As frustrating as his questioning was, I couldn¡¯t exactly be surprised. I spent years transcribing and tailoring each and every recipe I knew of to fit the delicacies of this world, after all; not to mention an original version. The result was thousands upon thousands of dishes that could be traced to all corners of the Sol System. Cuisines from every corner of the Earth made up the bulk of it, of course, but over half of the contents contained literal otherworldly dishes.


    There was, of course, the infamous Saturnian dessert: Kraken Arms. A cold, yogurt pasta-type dish with freeze-dried berry ¡®rocks¡¯ that broke apart into a crumbly powder in the mouth. Tinting the dish the same dark blue hue as its namesake, Kraken Mare. And then, there was the obligatory Martian Kibble. A sort of cereal made with freeze-dried bits of vegetables, dough, and gravy mixed with bite-sized pieces of spicy dried or smoked meat. A favorite among space farers as it could be eaten dry right out of the bag or mixed with hot water or milk to make a thick stew. Plutonian Powder Cream; or ice cream frozen so coldly it was shaved into a fine powder. Neptunian Sea Jellies; a type of watery, fruit-filled donut. Uranian Sky Candy; like cotton candy, but spun from sugary ice on Titania. Lunar Lava Tubes; or hoagies baked on Luna, where the low gravity makes cavernous air holes that were stuffed with entire meals. Absolutely nothing was spared, for magic could fill in the gaps made by missing infrastructure. Making it my most prideful piece of literature to date.


    Though, much like Ebbet¡¯s gift, I only wished I would¡¯ve given him his copy before I released it to my inner circle. If only to make his reaction that much better. ¡®Should¡¯ve, would¡¯ve, could¡¯ve, I suppose.¡¯ I internally shrugged, then returned the book to him.


    ¡°Fried chicken and waffles.¡± He slowly read. I think I can make that. Never thought of using so much oil to fry a bird, though. Should be interesting!"


    ¡°You''ll be needing this,¡± I said, withdrawing a rudimentary waffle iron made from salvaged materials. Then proceeded to revel at the sight of him toiling over a relatively simple dish. Though much to his credit, he made everything from scratch. Still, I had to continue deflecting whenever he inquired about the ¡®controversial¡¯ method of frying meat in such a way. Even going as far as to go down a small rabbit hole revolved around dipping chickens in eggs. In the end, though, we both were satisfied with his work and remained silent while I ate. Yet he let out a heavy sigh the moment I pushed my plate toward him. ¡°You know, I¡¯m going to miss you, Your Grace.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get all sappy on me now.¡± I laughed, turning towards my room. ¡°Besides, I¡¯ll be back eventually. So instead look forward to my return.¡±


    Back in my room, I took Gerolt¡¯s advice and did as I ordered my vassals to do. My entire nursery was stripped of everything but a few pieces of furniture. Books, towels, clothes, chairs, busts, and even a few paintings were stored away in my Shadow Pocket. And after a short bout of meditation, my bed was stored away as well. Everything in the wing was mine, after all. And for whatever reason, I still felt a particular connection with my bed. Perhaps it was due to me having remembered the day of my birth, or maybe some type of magic or elven secret I had no understanding of. Whatever the reason, I decided it was something I¡¯d keep for the rest of my days. And with that, I emerged at around five-thirty to see my forefathers talking outside the service wing.


    ¡°See Ebbet. Put on your family clothes, then give out your hugs and kisses.¡± Grandpa Lich coldly spat the moment he laid eyes on me. ¡°We¡¯re to leave at 7 sharp."


    ¡®Again?¡¯ I internally shook my head, dreading another hair appointment.


    Doing as told, I went to the service wing to see Gerolt whipping up a breakfast of hash browns, sausage, and beans for my eagerly waiting vassals. I hadn¡¯t even made halfway to the table by the time Ebbet rounded the corner, gripping me by the arm to drag me by force to the salon.


    Thankfully, Gerolt was kind enough to bring my meal to me.


    ¡°Honestly, Your Grace.¡± She scoffed. ¡°How do you intend to protect yourself in Ulai if your hair is so long? Or do you think it practical to never have your hair cut?¡±


    ¡°I planned to have it fall into my shadow once it got long enough.¡± I snickered through a mouthful of food.


    ¡°Well, we¡¯re cutting it down, this instant!¡±


    Even if I wanted to, I had no time to protest before she began snipping away. Then, the agonizing pain of having locked hair be pulled apart followed. An irony, that. Considering I was regularly beaten to death by my great-grandfather.


    ¡°Now you look like the Grand Duke of Odissi!¡±


    Tender-headed and teary-eyed, I looked into the mirror made of ice to see a gilded headdress holding a palm-tree fan of locks in place on top of my head, leaving the rest to hang loosely down the back of my neck. After a quick study, I quickly grew disinterested and leaned down to pull out a trinket and a far thinner book than the one I¡¯d given Gerolt. ¡°Thank you, Ebbet.¡± I smiled. ¡°These are for you.¡±


    Hesitantly, she took the book in both hands, then looked at the small box placed on top of it for a long second before looking up at me. Blinking madly as she asked. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a book.¡± I cheekily snickered. And I swear I the woman was going to slap me for a second. ¡°And a watch you can wear on your wrist, made by my vassal, Letta. The book revolves around food production and preservation.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± She beamed, setting the box down gently to begin thumbing through the page. "Like your bottling technique?"


    ¡°Precisely, but also more. For example, there are designs for self-contained systems that grow plants from farmed fish.¡±


    ¡°Plants AND fish?¡± She gasped, flipping through the pages with increased fervor.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I amiably nodded. ¡°To put it simply, the fish''s waste flows over the plant''s roots, feeding them and in turn cleaning the water for the fish. Meanwhile, the fish are smart enough to regulate their population. Thus vastly less work is needed. And they can be built in the greenhouses.¡±


    ¡°Ingenious.¡± I heard Gerolt mutter from across the room.


    ¡°I¡¯m honored to receive these gifts from you, Your Grace.¡± Ebbet bowed. ¡°But you must hurry. You have just over half an hour before we depart. Please!¡± She gently pushed me out. ¡°Change at once.¡±


    Internally groaning, I did what was asked and was changed in less than five minutes. Deciding to follow my Grandfather¡¯s instructions, I then drifted off to the only place I could think of to go. The library.


    Upon my arrival, I waltzed right to the reception desk and hopped up onto the counter to give a great smile to my favorite person. ¡°Good to see you again, Caia.¡±


    Her head shot up from the desk in an instant, followed by her body leaping from her seat. The trademark strands of hair framing her face flopped all over the place as she pulled me into an embrace to scream in my ear. ¡°Amun!


    "Uh!¡± She quickly pulled me away to scan the library. ¡°Your Grace!¡± She slowly hollered.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a month, Caia.¡± I helplessly laughed.


    ¡°I know.¡± She giggled, waving the matter aside. ¡°But no one holds a conversation quite like my little cousin.¡±


    ¡°Which is exactly why I¡¯m here.¡± I sighed.


    ¡°You¡¯re leaving soon.¡±


    There were hints of both pride and sorrow in her voice. A waiver, mixed with a sharp intensity that demanded the acknowledgment of everyone standing in the vicinity. It was a sound that slowly snuffed out my amiable expression and replaced it with a placid stare. A shield that betrayed the feelings smoldering inside me.


    ¡°I will return one day,¡± I forced myself to say as I wheeled around on the desk to face her. ¡°I¡¯ll be forming my own guild. My own society. You¡¯re welcome to join me when the time comes. But, before I go, I want to give you a few things.¡±


    She stayed silent and watched me pull a long, slim, and thin box from my Shadow Pocket.


    ¡°A gift?¡± She beamed. If only a little. Then tilted her head in both surprise and confusion after prying open the box. ¡°A pen?¡±


    ¡°A fountain pen.¡± I corrected. ¡°Watch.¡± Taking the pen from her, I dipped the tip into her vat of ink and twisted the end cap clockwise until I heard a soft click, then I began pulling. ¡°There¡¯s a reservoir inside,¡± I explained as I reset the plunger and locked it in place. ¡°This way, you won''t have to keep dipping into your ink. And you can use this nub on the side to cap it off when it''s not in use.¡±


    ¡°Aww, Amun!¡± She pulled me in for a hug, groaning all the while. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have.¡±


    Mere lies that I quickly denied. ¡°I couldn¡¯t have made it this far if it weren¡¯t for your help.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Besides.¡± I pushed her away to begin pulling mana from my well. ¡°You¡¯re my only cousin.¡±


    ¡°Well, not your ONLY cousin.¡± She amiably frowned. ¡°But definitely your favorite.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the only one I know, so you may as well be the only one I have. It¡¯s because of that, that I want to make sure you¡¯re safe. So, I¡¯ll leave you with this.¡±


    With my words, I stopped pulling mana from my well and contained the concentration of shadow mana in my hand while I thought long and hard about the result I intended for my spell.


    For all intents and purposes, I was only preparing a summoning spell to spawn Caia¡¯s Doppelganger. That said, the single spell I was preparing to cast contained roughly half of the arcane energy within my well. In all honesty, I had no idea if such a high concentration of energy would even make any changes to her umbral clone, but there was only one way of finding out. So I imagined the most overpowered, violent, and ruthless form of her doppelganger that I could before throwing the mass of energy at her feet. The result was a process I¡¯d seen hundreds of times by now. The dark silhouette plastered onto the floor filled with a dense mass of energy that quickly aggregated into a solid dark mass. A disappointing outcome, I assumed, up until I placed my hands on the clone''s shoulders and did something I¡¯d never done to a doppelganger before.


    ¡°Listen.¡± I gently shook the clone. ¡°Your orders are to help Caia. You¡¯re to use every drop of your power to aid her any time she needs assistance. If she needs help carrying a box, you are to help her. Any time she¡¯s in danger, you¡¯re to help her fight with all of your might. Nothing is to hurt her. Understood?¡±


    While the clone¡¯s flesh was a bit denser than any Doppelganger I touched thus far, the rigidity of its skin seemed to harden or condense as I gave it orders. Once it gave a solemn nod and voiced an ethereal affirmation, the flesh seemed to fully realize into a material like vulcanized rubber. Evidently closing off the subtle leakage of darkness that once rose from the clone¡¯s flesh.


    ¡°Our very own bodyguard.¡± Caia ecstatically exclaimed.


    ¡°Our?¡± I rose my brow in confusion.


    As if in celebration, she pushed away from her desk and slowly stood to reveal a melon-sized bulge in her dress. ¡°I¡¯m having a baby boy!¡± She screamed, eliciting many disgruntled stares to befall our position.


    ¡®How do you-¡¯ I shook my head, brushing my curiosities aside. ¡°Congratulations!¡± I beamed, coming in for another hug.


    ---


    After a few more words with the one and only Caia Cole, I returned to the service wing to find my forefathers waiting alongside my vassals. After exchanging a few final words with Gerolt and the others, Grandpa Lich guided us into the main courtyard and turned at the entrance to casually push open a seamless steel door. Descending a rather long flight of steps brought us to a platform like the one in Corvus Tower. Complete with a train similar in appearance to the one stored in my shadow settled above a thick rail that undulated toward the mouth of the cave and bent around the corner like a snake peering outside its hole.


    With my vassals settled in the caboose, I joined my forefathers around the table in the locomotive and sat idly until we began moving.


    ¡°I am aware that your need for sleep is lessened due to your nature as a half-elf.¡± Grandpa Lich said as he took his seat. ¡°But you¡¯ll have to change your sleeping routine so that you¡¯re awake during the day. Fear not, however.¡± He raised a bear paw of a hand. ¡°Even in the brightest light, the darkness remains by your side.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± I internally cringed. ¡°Any more advice?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He grunted. ¡°Epethia is nothing like here, So don¡¯t act brashly, regardless of what you may or may not see over there. You are royalty, Amun. Your actions carry far more weight than a commoner''s. That said.¡± He sighed. ¡°Never let another step on you, not even the Emperor.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dream of it.¡± I snickered.


    ¡°Good.¡± Grandpa nodded. ¡°Now then, are your ambitions still the same?¡±


    ¡°They are,¡± I quickly said. ¡°I¡¯ll form a guild to conquer Ulai before creating my own empire.¡±


    ¡°Then, I shall see you at the academy.¡± He proudly harrumphed.


    ¡°You¡¯re a teacher?¡± I squinted.


    ¡°I run a boarding academy.¡± He dejectedly scoffed. ¡°But, I only teach part-time at the academy. Specifically, the summoning course.¡±


    ¡°Ah. Of course.¡± I nodded in understanding. ¡°Necromancer. So, does that mean I¡¯ll learn it there as well?¡±


    ¡°Unless you fail to learn it yourself first.¡± He snorted. ¡°But I¡¯ll let the headmaster and his staff explain everything. I¡¯d hate to ruin the surprise.¡± He cackled. And with not much being said thereafter, I retreated to my cabin and immediately pounced on the bed to recline atop the covers and watch the coast pass by.


    ¡®Mmm.¡¯ I tossed and turned in place with a groan several moments later. ¡®I should have Ed reinvent memory foam.¡¯


    ''...and I wanna smoke.''

 50 - Closure

    Eved.


    ***


    Mom.


    Such a strange, almost vulgar term. A crude title, it was. A tactless name. One utterly devoid of respect or formality. Yet, within that word was a warmth- a divine spark that betrayed the very nature of the speaker. My son, Amun.


    That title- that word, swam through the weave behind me to breach my focus like a Triton announcing its presence to a surface dweller at sea. Removing my thoughts from the task at hand with a persistence that matched the undead. Returning my focus to that task was a simple endeavor. As was the task itself. Given to me by both our god and mine; the Eternal and The Weaving Mistress. All I had to do was descend, transfer, ascend, and wait. But it was often those simple things that proved the most difficult to endure.


    Even here, in the midst of my descent, I could hear their voices pursuing me through those ancient caverns.


    "Dear.¡±


    <<Mom.>>


    Perhaps the ease of navigating the Darkworld was why I could hear it. The monotony of it all made for wandering thoughts, unlocking the backdoor to my mind to permitting a horde of thoughts and feelings I¡¯ve not experienced for quite some time to run rampant in my head. Or perhaps they truly were calling for me through that darkness- their darkness.


    Unwelcome though they were, those feelings acted like runes to my flesh. They empowered me as if I were descending into the Hells, granting me the strength to string along my past with the future I have chosen. Soon enough, I was there.


    <<You are early, Eved.>> I heard the voice long before I saw the speaker. The songful voice of my kin was like poison to my mind and acupuncture to my heart. The thoughts and hopes and fears and aspirations were shut behind that mental door in an instant, slowing my heart to the same reasonable pace as my steps. And yet, something still lingered. For when I rounded the corner to see an object of my past and future pinning a darkened cloak in place, all I could think about was his reaction to the things I now witnessed. A male drow with a countenance not far off from his, groveling in the dirt like a worm.


    <<Eved, most high.>> The worm groveled. <<I welcome your return->>


    <<Silence yourself!>> That guttural scream of pain that followed bellowed like a tempest in the spacious caverns. Nevertheless, Yassra¡¯s outburst was like a whisper of a song to the chorus of sobbing pleas and wet crunches echoing throughout the caverns.


    <<How was your venture on the surface?>>


    I held my gaze at Delan, receiving his punishment, in a vain attempt at shutting the back door before I answered the first being I brought into these realms. A true mirror of my past self, unlike Yassra. ¡®How could one describe such an experience?¡¯ I wondered, meeting Laele''s gaze. My absence hadn¡¯t been long. Comparable to around a year from a human¡¯s perspective. In that short time, however, I¡¯ve forsaken everything that was true to me. The crimson luster in their eyes was proof of that much. Yet I gained much more in exchange. Insight. Protection. Status. Hauntings.


    ¡®How does one recount the horror of coming to fear something that once solaced them?¡¯ I laughed to myself, despairing over the long-awaited answer until Yassra approached to grasp my hands in hers.


    <<Words cannot describe how I¡¯ve longed for your return.>>


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    <<Give us your report, Eved.>> Laele said after mimicking her actions.


    <<You know the rules, Laele.>> Yassra turned to her, then pointed at the rift in front of me.


    <<It was.>> I began, then trailed off along with my gaze. First to Yassra, then to Delan. The similarity of their frames and countenance was sickening, and that sickening feeling only intensified as their counterpart burst through my mental door to release a wave of nostalgia into my mind. Memories of these three drow and their vastly different upbringings swirled with the paranoid and hopeful assumptions of how their fates and mine had been intertwined by the hands of the Demon Spider, the Weaving Mistress, the White Horn, and the Eternal Champion. Leaving me with only a few words with which to grasp.


    <<He is...>> I finally muttered. <<He is peculiar.>>


    <<He?!?>> Yassra tossed my arms away. <<Of course it is a man.>> She turned away, scoffing.


    <<I was shocked when I learned you were to sire a child with the Nox. But, that.>> Laele gave an envy-less chuckle. <<It seems the Eternal¡¯s punishment knows no bounds.>>


    <<This is the web we have spun for ourselves.>> I took a deep breath, then settled my eyes over the two of them for a quick inspection. Both of them were clad in armor and weapons forged from the finest materials to be unearthed and processed in the Dark World. Yassra¡¯s was excessively draped in webs and crimson accents, denoting her increased station. Something she would surely need. But I doubted even that would help her. <<Are you prepared?>>


    <<We have prepared for centuries.>> Yassra proudly declared. <<Our tasks will be accomplished just as yours were.>>


    <<Mine is far from over.>> I scoffed, turning to Laele. <<Are they gathered?>>


    <<As I said, you are early. And so were they.>> Laele pulled away to stand beside the rift, laughing all the while.


    With only a nod, I stepped towards the dragon''s eye carved into space itself, and entered. In a stark juxtaposition to my previous transit, the concentration of energy instilled me with a sense of safety and hope that worked to refresh me before I arrived in the motherland. Youtera, the Realm of Fae.


    With my feet once again standing on the solid, arcana-infused ground, I scanned the massive chamber I now found myself in and stood in awe at the largest conglomeration of elves to have been assembled since Telin¡¯s intervention. Every type of Fae from drow to high elves stood by behind their leaders, armored and at the ready before the dais on which I appeared. The chatter and murmurs died down as the others made their way through the rift and settled at my sides.


    To first breach the silence, I took a long, weary breath and smiled. ¡®At last.¡¯ Opening my eyes, I locked eyes with the leader of each group before declaring. <<The Champion is to be awakened within the tenday. Ascended within the year.>>


    Though no words, cheers, jeers, or gasps could be heard, yet there was a sudden spike in the atmosphere¡¯s ambiance. Armor and weapons readjusting and sharpening could be heard amongst the sounds of packaged meals being consumed and potions being downed. Elves of all kinds began shuffling silently behind their leaders. Eager to begin the tasks laid out for them so long ago.


    <<Now, it begins,>> said Imra Lichenwind, Arch Druid of the Wood Elves.


    <<Yes.>> The high-elven archmage, Ungved Tahromor, nodded before chanting. <<One year until the rise.>>


    <<Another until the rending.>> Pafir, the Frost Elf Cheiftess added.


    <<And the willowing in three.>> Prime Matron Laele of House Za''Darmondiel then said.


    Followed by Imra once more. <<Then, the Champion ascends.>>


    <<And shall bring upon the era anew,>> said Ungved in turn.


    <<The Era of Champions.>> Pafir sighed.


    <<The time of our fated judgment.>> Laele continued. Followed by me.


    <<And the end of our tasks.>>


    One by one, the leaders turned to give final orders to their subordinates before sending them through. Naturally, that was to include Laele. And with her, Yassra, Delan, and the house I had forsaken so long ago; guided by the goddesses I was tasked with turning my back on. Therin left no want or need to witness their departure. Similarly, no one thing or another kept me from staying to watch the rift close behind them. Those were experiences that have long since been locked away in the depths of my memory. The last thing I needed was another entity knocking at the back door. So, I leaped forward through the caverns, basking in the potent weave and dank atmosphere as I dreamed of settling into the web of magic I wove for myself.


    I was finally free. Yet, trapped all the same with those haunting thoughts. A damning voice that told me my beloved son was a monster.


    More of a monster than the blood of Fiends and Fae made him.

 51 - First Impression

    Roheisa Deapou.


    ***


    ¡°Now remember, be on your best behavior. To these people, your mentality is just as important as your prowess. They¡¯ll be watching you from the shadows during their stay. Assessing everything you do. Accept it. No matter how crude or invasive it may feel, accept their challenges. Show them your greatness.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Father!¡± I passionately beamed as I skipped to his side and found myself almost stepping over him the moment the antechamber doors were opened.


    So many things were happening at once that it was hard to maintain my composure. My long-awaited 15th birthday had come and gone, leaving me with irreplaceable memories and a burning desire to awaken my dormant cores and be admitted to the academy. On top of that, I was finally meeting the Grand Duke of Odissi, whom I¡¯d heard much about from my father¡¯s vassals and others around the castle. Of course, Prince Abulot was here as well and was as tall and lanky and as disinterested as he always was. Amun of Odissi, however, was a peculiar one. According to what I¡¯ve been told, he had yet to meet anyone of royal blood outside of his own family, said to be a prodigal genius who spent all his time reading, learning, and training not only his vassals but an entire class of students at Corvus Tower as well.


    Looking at him, one would hardly expect as much to be true. Sure, he felt strong and yes, he looked good. As a half-elf, one would surely expect him to be both of those in excess. But, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a certain¡­ aloofness in his persona that was somewhat off-putting. It felt a bit like Abulot¡¯s behavior. Only, Amun¡¯s was lacking any sense of recognition or respect for my father¡¯s presence. Even after making eye contact with him.


    ¡°You¡¯re the infamous Grand Duke Amun of Odissi, I presume?¡± My father placed a grin on his face as he settled himself before the Grand Duke.


    ¡°I am, your Imperial Majesty.¡± Amun curtly turned to face my father and just¡­ stood there, stone-faced, while Prince Abulot leaned forward in a bow behind him. Causing a subtle rise in the room¡¯s temperature.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Father softly grunted. ¡°You do not bow before your Emperor?¡±


    ¡°If my understanding is correct, your Imperial Majesty.¡± Amun began without pausing or averting his penetrating gaze from my father¡¯s, ¡°You and my Great-Grandfather possess dissimilar titles, but similar ranks within our imperial society. That said, there would be no need to bow for someone of a higher station when someone of an equal station is present already.¡±


    ¡°Oho?¡± Father chuckled in an all-too-familiar way as he gestured around the room. ¡°And where is this Great-Grandfather of yours?¡±


    Still stone-faced, Amun nodded to the pillar beside my father. Or rather, to the shadow cast by it. ¡°He¡¯s in the form of a wraith, floating behind that pillar. Laughing at me. Or¡­¡± He paused to tilt his head. Evidently invoking a shift in his unchanging face for the first time. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s sobbing?¡± Amun pondered and paused again. And slowly, his face churned from confusion to sheer amusement before he began nodding slowly. ¡°Yes, your Imperial Majesty.¡± He finally said. ¡°I¡¯m sure that¡¯s it. My Grandpa Lich is sobbing because I voided his beloved shadow storm giant. Seeing me must¡¯ve made the bitter memory return.¡±


    ¡°You think you¡¯re funny, Boy?¡± A different growl loomed from behind the pillar. Pulling my wide eyes around to bring the Necro King into view. Only for him to disappear and arrive before his descendant within the next instant.


    Amun apologetically bared his palms and backed away, shrugging as he said. ¡°It was the only way I could get you to show yourself.¡±


    Though the sincerity in his voice seemed genuine, the devilish smirk was still in full bloom on his face. Shocking me just as much as it did Prince Uplos.


    ¡°Gahahahaha!¡± I heard my father¡¯s resounding laugh and watched wide-eyed as he approached the Necro King to place a hand on his shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re every bit as bold as your¡­ Grandpa Lich.¡± He bellowed a final time. ¡°You¡¯ll do just fine in Ulai, Amun of Odissi.¡±


    As the temperature, my awe, and fear died down, they were replaced with a wide variety of other things. Amusement, bemusement, admiration, disbelief, contempt, and more worked to strip any words from forming within my mind as I watched him gracefully lower his torso into a bow and waited for my father''s recognition before righting himself.


    ¡°It¡¯s an honor to meet your Imperial Majesty in the flesh,¡± Amun said in the same cold, analytical tone as each of his forefathers. A side effect of their affinity with the darkness, Father made sure to remind me time and time again.


    ¡°The honor is mine.¡± Father humbly shook off the gesture before continuing. ¡°I must say, I had doubts regarding the accuracy of the claims behind your prowess. But the hour of darkness you imposed on us all quickly made me think otherwise.¡±


    ¡°That was a miscalculation on my part, your Imperial Majesty.¡± Amun bowed again. ¡°It shall not happen again.¡±


    ¡®Wait!¡¯ I recoiled. ¡®That was from Amun!?!¡¯


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    ¡°No matter.¡± Father waved that too aside. ¡°In fact.¡± He paused to lean closer to Amun, a satisfied grin spread over his face. ¡°I can see that it did you some good. Your well is a marvel to even me.¡±


    ¡®Of course, I wasn¡¯t the only one!¡¯ I suddenly gasped.


    Father''s words and actions were like a slap to the face that both shamed me and brought me back to my senses in the same stroke. As smoothly as I could, I put on my glasses and leaned a bit closer toward the Grand Duke of Odissi before reaching up to the frame to activate the enchantments.


    The very instant my vision was overtaken by the blue field of energy, Amun¡¯s face collapsed into a stern, scrutinizing gaze aimed directly at me. Or rather, at my glasses. However intense it was, though, the moment passed as quickly as it came. Amun¡¯s placid expression returned as his attention moved back to my father. Leaving me a little taken aback and completely free to study his mana well to my heart¡¯s content.


    As my father said, Amun¡¯s well was unlike anything I¡¯d ever heard of; much less seen. By estimation, his was almost double the size of mine; and mine was as large as a human well could get. On top of that, his held a potent mix of glowing syrup that left me in a state of stupefied bewilderment. It looked and felt like his well was hardly containing an unstable mixture of lightning, water, ice, crystals, and raw, concentrated mana. And I couldn¡¯t help but think about what would happen if it were released.


    ¡®What is that?¡¯


    ¡°Thank you for your kind words, Your Imperial Majesty.¡± Amun bowed again, ripping my forming thoughts apart.


    Finding myself back in the moment, I turned to see my father gesturing to me. Noticing my cue, I gathered myself as quickly as I could and put on a welcoming smile just as my father said. ¡°This is my daughter.¡±


    ¡°Grand Princess, Roheisa Deapou.¡± I lowered my head in a bow. An action he immediately reciprocated, much to my delight.


    With his stature and dress, he was the spitting image of his father. He was probably around 175 centimeters tall with a lean build; only, there was a curious amount of muscle packed onto him that betrayed the likeness of his father. His visage was tinted a dark brown, like mine, and had the sleek and elegant features one would expect of a half-elf: pointed ears, elegantly contoured eyes, and a finely curved facial structure that gave him a natural regal appearance. That appearance was only amplified by the famously stylish dress of the Cole House and the hairpin crown tied off on the top of his head, allowing a curtain of locks to drape atop his shoulders.


    ¡°Now that the introductions are underway.¡± Father bellowed, turning to guide us to our entryway. ¡°Through here.¡±


    Without hesitation, Amun and Prince Uplos followed after my father; determination and indifference written across their respective faces.


    ¡®Amun of Odissi.¡¯ I said to myself, stepping into line beside him. ¡®Just how strong are you, really? I have to know.¡¯


    As I¡¯d done many times in the past, I had to beat my face to a standstill and endure the deafening eruption of the Imperial Orchestra¡¯s ceremonial opening. I and the others went through the dull motions of turning and waving, waving and turning at the gathered masses until we took our seats off to the side of the twin thrones.


    Just as our vassals stood just before and below us, Archduke Cole and King Uplos stood below my father and the Necro King as the Imperial Songs were brought to a close.


    Around both of our positions was the largest crowd I¡¯ve seen to date. A crowd consisting of hundreds of noble family members and commoners from both empires, dozens of guild officials, military officers, and most importantly, several mages, wizards, and witches from the Marulean Guild Association. All standing and waiting with the rest of us. The moment it was over, they all joined the natives in seating themselves and waiting impatiently for the proctor to go through the address and begin the ceremony. Made evident by the subtle cacophony of murmurs rumbling through the hall.


    Much like mine, Amun¡¯s vassals were restless from the excitement of it all. Their master, however, was as placid as could be. There was an unnerving calm to him as he sat there in silence, moving his eyes back and forth over his vassals.


    Curious, my eyes followed his, and I found myself studying each of them in turn.


    True to hearsay, Amun had thrice as many vassals as Prince Abulot and I. Though only four of them were present for the ceremony, for whatever reason.


    The first was the assumed knight. A red-brown-skinned boy who was just as tall as his master and held the same steeled gaze; only, he was far stockier and looked at the world through vibrant, lightning-blue eyes that marked him as a Fulgum. His hair was similarly locked and trimmed to the same length as Amun¡¯s, albeit trimmed along the sides and neatly tapered. Leaving a linear bang to hang over his ear.


    The second was the tallest of them all. A slim boy with light-brown skin and a half-shaved head like his companion on the left; though, that was where the similarities stopped. While the knight¡¯s hair was long enough to hang loosely, his was short and only partially locked. While the former had a square jaw and prominent features, the latter had high cheeks and a pointed chin. He wore glasses, unlike his counterpart. And his eyes were tinted a sandy-beige color like the Prince¡¯s. In short, they couldn¡¯t be more different from each other.


    Amun¡¯s third vassal looked strikingly similar to Sarah, my caretaker. Complete with caramel-brown skin, voluminous hair, and ice-blue eyes. Even the forehead was the same. Unlike her mother, however, Jonet Fischer was as carefree and stone-faced as the two to her left. Quite the disposition for a serving girl.


    The last present vassal under Amun¡¯s wing seemed to be the closest to normal of them all as he sat there with mixed amounts of worry and anticipation. He was rather small in comparison to the others. Shorter than Amun and both slimmer and less defined than him as well. He had a short afro atop his head and a particularly large set of eyes that were tinted a rather unremarkable gray.


    Rather than being subjected to another glare from Amun, I turned away from my impulses and turned to him, opening up with the same chatter that the rest of the hall was going on about. ¡°What do you think our awakened cores will be?¡±


    ¡°Who knows?¡± He curtly shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m only wondering who should go first.¡±


    ¡°Well, there¡¯s only the eleven of us,¡± I said. ¡°Our vassals can go first. Naturally, that would make Prince Abulot¡¯s vassals the first in line.¡±


    ¡°You can follow him if you like.¡± Amun kindly offered. ¡°It makes no difference to me.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled. Thank you.¡± I beamed. Then sidled a bit closer to privately whisper. ¡°My father seems certain that I¡¯ll awaken cores for lava and magnetism, just as he did. The thought of disappointing him is¡­ daunting.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure everything will work out for the best,¡± Amun amiably stated. ¡°We just have to be patient.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I scoffed. ¡°What makes you so sure?¡±


    ¡°Faith.¡±

 52 - Awakening

    Amun.


    ***


    How annoying.


    Not only was I being tortured by the Princess¡¯ incessant need for conversation and attention. The ceremony seemed to drag on and on while we and everyone else just sat there, talking amongst ourselves.


    I was fully aware that this was a once-in-a-lifetime event meant to form an unforgettable, prideful memory within both the awakened and the esteemed guests. That was made evident by the sheer amount of spectators. Still, after seeing nothing but efficiency and smooth operations for fifteen years, watching the higher-ups drone on and on proved to be quite frustrating. Though, it was nothing I couldn¡¯t handle. Hurry up and wait, as they say. Besides, their speeches proved to be quite interesting.


    Naturally, the Emperor gave a short welcoming speech first. Jamettus Deapou was just as domineering as the legends described him to be. He was the spitting image of my Great-Grandfather, in a way. An absolute unit of a man who looked down on the world from atop the two meters tall pedestal that was his shoulders. Beyond that, they seemed to be polar opposites in both looks and persona. Where Grandpa Lich was fickle and dishonest, the Emperor was bluntly truthful. The former was somewhat stoic, if amiable and carefree. The latter was hot-headed and expressive. Passionate even.


    Naturally, their dynamic had been passed on to me and Roheisa. Where I took on the features of my forefathers, she too had the same aquiline nose, deep-set eyes, light brown skin, and square face as her father. Pushing 185 centimeters, she was nearly as tall as her father- and much taller than me. The only notable differences besides the obvious were the lack of muscle mass, her gray-colored eyes instead of the rusted black irises, and the missing mountain-man beard. Though she still had a considerable amount of the former, the latter seemed to have been transplanted to the top of her head in the shape of a bun that resembled the mountain we were huddled inside.


    With the Emperor stepping down from the podium, the proctor stepped up to announce Grandpa Lich''s incoming speech. I could practically hear him grumbling as he took the stage. But then, it was like seeing a flip being switched. He spoke of the first awakening ceremony, of a crude ritual in the wilds, guided by elves. He told of the Guild Association''s creation, long ago. And explained the system they devised to ensure the survival of the Marulean species. He spoke of how the event has changed since then. Of how so many people have been spread across the Mortal Plane as a result of their efforts. And how these very Empires were created under the same system. In closing, he spoke of his pride in seeing so many people gathered to witness the next generation take to the world. And bowed down from the podium after thanking the guests a final time.


    King Uplos followed behind him to introduce each party that was present. Naturally, every royal family from both Deapou and Odissi was seen in the stands, and I noticed Toril shift subtly when the Fulgum House was mentioned. On top of that, each of the other entities was allowed to speak their intentions. As Roheisa said, many of them were scouts from guilds or militaries stationed throughout Phaegrath looking to recruit. Though, she also made sure to tell me that they always tried and no one took up their offers.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why though.¡± She pouted as if she were annoyed.


    ¡°With an increase in power comes an inflated ego.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Inflated egos will either be humbled or killed somewhere down the line. If they walk away with their lives, these scouts will be there to sow their seeds while their recruits are at their lowest point.¡±


    Before Roheisa could reply, the stern, raspy voice of a warrior maiden rang through the hall, forcing our gaze to the far ends of the room. ¡°My Name is Gysil Vilignin, Arcane Mage of the Marulean Guild Association, Deapou Division. My subordinates and I are here to assess each Initiate and determine who will be allowed to attend the academy. That is all.¡±


    With a bow, she returned to her seat, allowing King Uplos to step down and my father to step up to begin naming off the three royals and their vassals who were attending today¡¯s ceremony. On top of that, there were dozens of royals and even more commoners attempting to awaken their cores, making for about several hundred initiate prospects.


    In closing, he explained that after a brief intermission, we¡¯d gather in the chamber to begin the actual ceremony, causing the gathered mass to erupt in chatter and excitedly scramble out of the room


    with instructions to return in ten minutes. After the little break, we were guided to the dining hall for a mid-day meal amongst ourselves while the commoners and nobles went through the process. Either from anxiety or anticipation, no one seemed to want to speak; much less eat, except me. So I quietly satiated myself and waited until the Emperor returned to fetch us a few hours later.


    When the time came, were guided underground to an antechamber leading to a vast, egg-shaped chamber made entirely of polished granite. Dug into the walls around the room¡¯s equator were numerous skyboxes filled with what appeared to be thousands of spectators. Conversely, the only infrastructure on the interior was something out of shoddy sci-fi design: a thin catwalk extending from the entrance to the center of the room, where a massive, pale blue crystal sat within a housing of gold. Sitting at the zenith was a matching crystal, hanging from an enchantment stone-lined ceiling like a large stalactite. Similarly, the basin was made of the same, stone-riddled marble as the dome; only in a far greater concentration and made without the colossal crystal at the center.


    The antechamber itself contained a short corridor connecting the staircase from which we came with the chamber before us. To the right of that was an alcove containing a few rows of bleacher-like seats akin to the ones in the throne room we were in earlier. After we wordlessly situated ourselves within, Prince Abulot ordered his vassals to go first, as per our agreement.


    The first of them was Maurice Harris. A particularly tall and lanky young man with light tan skin, large glasses, and clown-like feet. After placing his hand on the crystal, the entire construct glowed blue and seemed to form a hologram above the gem. Displaying a field of energy similar to the slush properties of his well. Once his reserves were depleted, he collapsed to his knees as a pulse of energy was ejected from the top of the crystal, like a laser that cascaded into a thick shroud of mana upon meeting the crystal above. As the seconds passed, the shroud began to fall and spread thin over the basin, where it began changing color and molding into a thick mesh of brown fibers.


    ¡°Hair magic.¡± The Prince nonchalantly informed us without our asking. "Maurice''s hereditary affinity."


    With the ground below him reflecting his core, the crystal housed above started to shine and soon pulsed out a wave over the ceiling. As it spread, the slush-like mana began changing into clumps of another type of fibrous mass, albeit a smoother material with a higher sheen than the hair seen below. And in almost the reverse process as the basin, the attributed mana began collapsing towards the crystal, forming a dense ball of energy that dripped from the ceiling and slowly settled before him. Thus forming the kidney-shaped organ that was the affinity core.


    After settling in front of Maurice, it simply faded into a stream of particles and cascaded into his body. Then, the construct faded to its dull, inactive state. And without as much of a sigh, he turned from the crystal and began the walk back to the antechamber. Prompting Toka Eyer, The Prince¡¯s other vassal, to begin trotting down the catwalk. She was a short moon-faced girl with curiously lustrous yellow-tan skin with large eyes that were just as brown as her hair. Though, with our limited interactions, I naturally knew nothing about either of them besides how they looked.


    After the slush-like hologram appeared and descended to the basin, her mana formed an amorphous blob that coated the bottom of the chamber in a type of gel. Slime, according to Prince Abulot. Following the motions, the ceiling changed into an unmistakable black sheen that I immediately recognized as oil.


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    ¡®I know a country that¡¯d be arming themselves for war if they existed here.¡¯ I snorted to myself. ¡®Or at all, for that matter.'' Surprisingly, however, the crystal glowed again and went through the same process, this time coating the ceiling in a layer of wax before depositing her core.


    ¡°Oh, she got two.¡± Prince Abulot recoiled in amiable surprise. Unlike his father, the heir to the Uplos Kingdom had a short and slim stature in comparison to the tall and hulking figure of his father. Only with a square-shaped head and a bit of an overbite, with red-brown skin, tan eyes, and curly black hair that¡¯d been slicked back over his head. More so, he seemed to be entirely lacking in ambition. In his words, he simply wanted to work in an office and do nothing more.


    Ignoring him, I turned my attention to Princess''s vassals readying themselves for the big moment. Roheisa herself shot a particularly prideful gaze toward her knight as they decided who¡¯d go first, eventually decided to be her, Lucia Pike. A blond-haired, fair-skinned girl with the build of a gymnast and gray-white eyes. She quickly placed her hand on the crystal and soon after, the floor filled with a sea of glowing white blades pointing their tips skyward.


    ¡°Blade Magic.¡± The princess proudly declared, admittedly triggering my curiosity. But only until the construct above pulsed, spreading its field of mana over the dome. Soon after, the undulations ceased and a solid surface was formed. Yet it took a few more seconds for the hue to darken to a bronze or bass-like sheen, and even more for the core to condense and merge with its new owner. As Toka experienced, the crystal above burst to life once again and repeated the process, filling the ceiling with a thick layer of glowing white quills.


    ¡°Bronze and feather magic, then.¡± I guessed out loud. ¡°Or, brass and wing magic?¡±


    If she heard my postulations, Roheisa veritably ignored them. Instead, her pride was visibly burning like her father¡¯s magic. As it should¡¯ve been, I supposed. But I couldn¡¯t share her excitement, as my curiosity drew my attention to her other vassal moving towards the crystal.


    Rosso DaVinci was clearly the princess''s least favorite vassal. As she paid the fair-skinned, glossy-eyed boy next to no mind as he moved down the walkway. Instead, she repeatedly congratulated what I assumed was his sister almost the entire time. The rest of us, on the other hand, watched in silence until the basin filled with a skin of polished glass panels.


    ¡°What is that?¡± I asked, half-knowing the answer.


    The Princess turned away from Lucia for only the third time to offhandedly say, ¡°Mirror Magic.¡± Then turned her attention back to her knight.


    I could only shake my head in shock at both her behavior and the fascinating magic Rosso was born with. And even more so as the field above condensed into a glossy pearl-like material. My shock quickly died down after Rosso returned to the antechamber, however, as Ed soon waddled up to the crystal. Even Roheisa¡¯s attention finally turned back to the event. Much to my bemusement.


    After placing his hand on the surface, Ed''s mana surged into the construct until the entire thing projected a solid cylinder of ice-like mana that soon began drifting to the bottom of the shell, where it quickly filled with a cloud of dense smoke. Following that, the ceiling lit up as everyone else¡¯s did before, only for it to take on a bluish-purple hue and deposit a bean-shaped mass of pure energy. Unlike the others, however, Ed¡¯s new core seemed to exert a subtle pushing effect on those in the antechamber; and in the skyboxes as well, according to what I could scry. That feeling, however, soon disappeared as the ceiling pulsed again and took on the form of a massive plate of fire. Heating the place to an absurd degree until the raging torch of the core was assimilated into Ed¡¯s body.


    Just as the usual applause died out from the background, the crystal above pulsed again, causing a muffled shock to bleed through the walls while the rest of us expressed either surprise or joy at Ed awakening a third core. It manifested in the same way as Lucia¡¯s, yet it darkened to a steel-like composition that pulled a curious gasp from Roheisa¡¯s lips. However, as I studied the core floating in front of him, something felt¡­ off.


    ¡°Something tells me that it¡¯s not steel he was just granted,¡± I commented aloud.


    ¡°What else could it be then?¡± Roheisa asked with much interest.


    ¡°It could be many things.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Aluminum, silver, tungsten. Only Ed knows. For now.¡±


    While Roheisa turned to face the crystal and fall into a bit of silence, the crowd¡¯s deliberation on the nature of the gifted attribute rose to an all-time high. Even I was at a loss for what the last could be and resolved to ask him the moment I could. Though, those questions had to come later, as Jonet was approaching the crystal next. I sat forward in my seat in anticipation of what was to come.


    After the bottom of the shell filled with a frigid covering of frost, the top glowed blue before splitting into two distinct sections and depositing the bean-shaped organ of energy. Causing a particularly deafening roar to erupt from the crowd as the field of energy condensed into a core split into two parts. Or rather, it had a color gradient. With one side being an icy blue-white that transitioned to a torch-like white on the other side. Leaving me at a complete loss for words until a subsequent field of mana formed a clear bean of air that seemed to vibrate everything around it was created.


    ¡°What do you think those are, Amun?¡± The princess gasped in astonishment.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure of the first one,¡± I commented as I turned to see the wide eyes and agape mouths of the others. ¡°Something to do with temperature, I suppose. As for the second.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Vibrations? Sound, possibly? I don¡¯t know.¡± And I couldn¡¯t guess, as the crystal once again erupted and spread a third field of mana across the ceiling that soon transformed into a thick bog of purplish liquid.


    Jonet seemed to be completely oblivious to the veritable uproar surrounding her on her way back to the antechamber. She only held her gaze up to an ambiguous point in the ceiling and distantly smiled until she returned to her seat, wherein Jaimess began his approach. Like with the others, the bottom of the construct lit up before showing everyone a thick sheet of ice and a basin layered with countless sheets of paper. Consequently, the field covering the ceiling solidified to form a black sheet of a powdery substance that immediately reminded me of gunpowder. Though, like with Ed¡¯s metallic affinity, something told me that this was something different. Almost expectedly, however, the ceiling bloomed again and formed into another steel-lustered material. Only, the material was imperfectly crystallized, producing interesting flake-shaped light patterns to reflect on us all as it descended before Jaimess.


    Being at a loss for what it could possibly be, I quickly skimmed through the samples of elements on the periodic table until I found a match, and inadvertently blurted out the answer in surprised excitement. ¡°Silicon!¡± I laughed to myself.


    ¡°What¡¯s silicon?¡± The princess asked.


    ¡°An element.¡± I casually explained before gesturing to the third mana field blooming across the ceiling.


    Looking at it, her eyes bulged wide. As did the rest of the crowd from the sounds of it. A clear reaction from seeing the smooth, black, glass-like stone core fading into Jaimess'' body. ¡°That was¡­ obsidian.¡± She gasped.


    ¡°Looks like your family doesn¡¯t have a monopoly on volcanism after all.¡± I chuckled a bit too loudly.


    She gave me a stern eye, but then looked away as Toril dutifully approached the stand. Prompting me to do much the same.


    He calmly placed his hand on the crystal and waited as the construct depleted his well, creating a crystalline holograph to appear above the gem before a field of sparking electricity spread below the catwalk. Then, he gazed upwards to see the ceiling begin to pulse and change. Listening in through the shadows, I could hear a multitude of topics from the many royals, nobles, commoners, and guests. Some of them noted that each of the Grand Duke¡¯s vassals had received three cores thus far and further agreed it''d be an embarrassment if I or my knight were to receive anything less. Others were expressing shock from seeing Toril possess a diamond-grade well. While many more openly wondered how and why the other royals'' vassals seemed less than lacking when compared to the most recently awakened. After each of the faceless inquires, however, I heard my forefathers, giving support and credit where credit was due. Serving only to elate me higher than I already was.


    The rise in commotion seemed to restart as the first field began to spread over the ceiling. Within a few seconds, a billowing, multi-colored cloud of gas hung under the crystal before it condensed and fell into an orbit around him. After the next pulse, the crowd¡¯s excitement amplified while the mana transformed into an eternal cloud of billowing fire. Light and energy cascaded into the crowd like a perpetual explosion, even going as far as to produce small shockwaves until it was absorbed. Giving us a small bout of peace until the ceiling pulsed again. Triggering an earth-shattering outburst from the crowd. Much to everyone''s bemusement, however, the field transformed and condensed into a dense gray blob of energy that had no other features or marks on it at all.


    Though I had my assumptions on what each of their awakened cores was, those assumptions would have to be set aside for a later time; as all the eyes within the walls of the construct and the antechamber suddenly turned to us. And so, without a word, we stood to begin our approach to the chamber¡¯s interior door.

 53 - Light Within the Dark

    Emeric Cole.


    ***


    Attending an awakening ceremony was always an esteemed event within the Empire. Naturally, as Archduke, I was expected to attend from the start. But the excitement and nostalgia of it all meant I¡¯d go even if I didn¡¯t have to. The fact that not only my son, but the Grand Princess of Deapou and the Prince of Uplos were awakening their cores as well, made it all too good to be true.


    I only wished Eved was here to see it.


    ¡°I must say,¡± His Imperial Majesty suddenly said. ¡°If my daughter doesn¡¯t receive magnetic magic as I did, I¡¯ll truly be disappointed.¡±


    Half unbelieving of what I¡¯d just heard, I stared, wide-eyed at him until he seemed to catch his words and suddenly dart his eyes around to Grandpa Everandus and King Uplos to hurriedly add to his words. ¡°Of course.¡± He amiably chortled. ¡°Roheisa had been blessed with a greater form of our sorcery than even I have. Her Steel is nothing to take lightly.¡± He waved a threatening finger.


    ¡°So I¡¯ve heard, Your Imperial Majesty.¡± I nodded. ¡°I know how prideful it can be to sire a child with a higher form of magic than your own.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes.¡± The Emperor gestured to Granddad while nodding to me. ¡°I hear Amun¡¯s void is quite the spectacle. What affinities do you suppose he¡¯ll be granted today?¡±


    ¡°Who knows?¡± Granddad disgruntledly huffed. ¡°Our history with affinities isn¡¯t as... extensive as yours.¡±


    ¡°Tar. Acid. Bone. I remember.¡± Emperor Deapou dryly chortled. Then settled back into his throne to turn back to me. ¡°Three generations, one core each. Is the Grand Duke of Odissi fated to continue such a trend? What say you, Emeric?¡±


    ¡°Only the Gods know.¡± I humbly shook my head. ¡°But I am dying to find out.¡± Luckily, I didn¡¯t have to wait long. As the heirs to the Empires made their way to the base of the platform shoulder-to-shoulder. And with nothing but a nod to the others, Prince Abulot came walking up to the crystal.


    ¡°What type of magic do you think the young Prince will be blessed with, Auberon?¡± His Imperial Majesty asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure he¡¯ll get any, I¡¯m afraid I must say.¡± King Uplos sighed. ¡°Abulot has always been the more scholarly type. He¡¯s good with numbers and books. To him, magic is but an afterthought. A tool to aid in daily life, if anything. As such, he doesn¡¯t seek the glorious life of a mage. He didn¡¯t even want to attend the ceremony.¡± He begrudgingly admitted.


    ''Nothing wrong with that.¡¯ I mentally retorted. I was much the same at his age. And as a result, I made my Grandfather¡¯s empire twice as prosperous as it¡¯d been in my father¡¯s day.


    Surely enough, the young prince inherited Sand Magic from his father and was awarded an advanced type of wind magic- Gust. Not only that, he was granted a core lined with jagged cracks along the surface. Judging from the parched feelings the energy left us with, we all agreed that it was drought magic that the young Prince had been blessed with. The ability to absorb and redistribute moisture into anything he desired. Though, as with any affinity, the applications of such magic were entirely up to his imagination.


    Amun seemed to gesture for Princess Roheisa to go first upon the Prince¡¯s return, causing the Emperor to comment on his manners before becoming awfully silent, leaning forth, and clutching the arms of his iron throne tightly enough for the metal to bend under his grip.


    Once she touched the crystal, the gem displayed her diamond density within her well before the basin covered itself in a clean sheet of steel. Then, the mana field above began to change into something that brought about a sudden burst of excitement from his Imperial Majesty. The core was the color rust and exuded an effect that indiscriminately tugged on jewelry and other metal accessories found within the crowd. ¡°Magnetic Magic.¡± The Emperor proudly declared. Following that, however, the next core began to form. Causing the Emperor to once again grip the arms of his throne and anxiously wait until the mana began to solidify and glow hot enough to turn into the viscous fluid everyone in the Deapou Empire knew all too well. The Emperor¡¯s pride was nearly radiating light from my peripherals at the sight of his daughter¡¯s Lava core forming. A pride that only compounded as a third mana field condensed into a field of flowering crystals before shrinking down and merging into her body.


    ¡°Steel, Magnetism, Lava, and Crystal Magic.¡± The Emperor almost sobbed. "Four cores! I''ve never been more proud."


    I couldn¡¯t focus on him long, however, as the princess bounced back down the platform and nodded to Amun as she passed him. Then, it was my turn to grip the arms of my seat.


    Looking at Amun take to the stage was simultaneously the greatest and the most stressful moment of my life. As his father, nothing made me happier than hearing the praise coming from everyone present. As they were saying, he''s surely become a fine young man. Though, that much was apparent from the start. From the moment I first laid eyes on him, I noticed a certain¡­ maturity in him. A sage-like quality. A spark of intellect. I knew not the words to describe it. I was only aware of the strange sensations I felt when holding Amun of Odissi in my arms for the first time. The emotions that bloomed from stepping into fatherhood were nearly snuffed out by the studious look aimed at my tear-wrought face. Strangely, a part of me could only see him as Grandpa Everandus reduced to an elf-eared baby form. The cold gaze was there. The impatience was there. And obviously, the looks were there. But, Amun was more than that. At only a few hours old, Amun seemed to display all the signs of an intellectual. He appeared like an alchemist in a brand new lab, the way he studied his parents and his new environment. And though he tried to hide it, those signs became all too apparent once he started his education.


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    I couldn¡¯t say I was surprised when Amun burned through Mr. Brook¡¯s lessons; similarly, hearing of Amun camping out in the library for days on end was something I nearly anticipated. And so too did I foresee him struggling with elemental manipulation, at no fault to his own, might I add. What came as a shock to us all, however, was the efficacy of Amun¡¯s training and the efficiency of his magical practice. To paraphrase the latter, it¡¯d be apt to say Amun specialized in accomplishing a lot with very little, despite the vastness and potency of his mana reserves. As for the former, he not only brought his vassals up to a comparable level to his own, but he trained an entire class of Corvus graduates to boot. It was a first in the history of the Empire, everyone was aware of that. However, what was unspoken and possibly even unknown by everyone, was that Amun was the first person in history to have created a guild before coming of age. Unofficial, though it still was.


    Scattered though they were, Amun¡¯s banner of loyalists was over 500 strong. Looking at him now as he poured his mana into the crystal, I could only guess how high those numbers would rise over time.


    A roll of murmurs and chatter spread through the chamber as the crystal projected a crackling field of the blue-green Arcana I¡¯ve seen only a few times thus far. Though, before anyone could comment on it, the pit was consumed in the darkest field of energy I¡¯d ever witnessed in my life. I¡¯d seen it rarely, but the void was a type of darkness that made the shadows feel like twilight. It was logic-breaking darkness with no fear-inducing effects or malevolent auras. It was simply indiscriminate energy that destroyed all it touched. Living or dead, it was all the same to the void.


    Looking at it now only made me imagine one thing: being trapped in an empty and infinite expanse. Alone for all eternity.


    ¡°So, this is the infamous void.¡± The Emperor muttered, seemingly in disbelief. ¡°A divine power of destruction.¡±


    Before I or anyone could even reply, the field of mana spreading over the ceiling demanded our attention. After a few moments, the field began to change into a deep purple- almost black field of energy that soon condensed into a core; and as it did, I felt as if a subtle¡­ something, was pulling my entire being toward it. Even as it fell into a dance around Amun¡¯s body. Similarly to me, my father had been fortunate enough to be granted a better affinity than his father, and so too did Amun, by the looks of it. Unlike my Bone Magic, I was certain Amun¡¯s new magic was something truly befitting a royal. Though, I still had no clue as to what it was. Regardless, I knew it was a far cry from the crude or unruly affinities I and my progenitors had been blessed with.


    Naturally, that alone caused my pride to rise to an all-time high. When the crystal flashed to life again, however, that pride had been usurped by the snuffing grasp of incredulity. With a hum, a second field spread over the ceiling and was soon attuned to a seemingly foggy type of energy. Upon condensing, however, I saw an endless slew of perpendicular waves perpetually wiggling out from the core at a myriad of paces until it merged into its new owner. Leaving the entirety of the crowd bemused until we were once again shocked by the ceiling lighting up again, causing a brief wave of joyous relief to overcome me before I became stricken once more.


    This time, the attributed mana began to distort the ceiling above it. Or rather, it only appeared that way from where we sat. Floating before Amun in its consolidated form seemed to warp our visual perception of him, making it appear that half of his body was above the core, distorted like Solid Shade smashed flat while the lower half stood on the ground. Meanwhile, the innards of the core seemed to serve as a viewing port to¡­ somewhere. An empty space that was undoubtedly not here. But neither was it the void, Under, or Shadow Realm either.


    It was almost like-


    ¡°Spatial magic?¡± The Emperor exclaimed.


    ¡°Mhmm. It almost looks like-¡± Though his eyes had remained locked on the chamber before us, a sudden wave of chaos from the crowd below and behind us cut Grandpa Everandus¡¯ words short.


    ¡°Four!?¡± The Emperor erupted from his throne with enough force to crumple it into the shape of a royal stool.


    He was by the window in the next second, forcing me to join him in order to gaze upon the blue-green field above transition into a blinding, fiery energy that easily outshone all of the other fire-based cores awakened today combined. The intense pressure and radiant light ceaselessly bled out into the chamber. Forcing nearly all of us to shield our eyes or turn away until the core was finally absorbed in Amun.


    ¡°What¡­ in the Seventeen Hells were those!?¡± The Emperor splattered simmering phlegm onto the window from his outburst. Despite his tone, however, there was only curiosity and pride instead of outrage or frustration on his face. More so, there was disbelief. An expression that the entirety of the crowd seemed to share.


    ¡°I- I don¡¯t know.¡± I finally managed to gasp.


    ¡°I was surprised he got two, let alone four. But, that last one was unquestionably light. It was like the sun itself!¡± Granddad wryly gasped. Then muttered to himself. ¡°A sorcerer of ancient darkness possessing light magic. It¡¯s unprecedented.¡±


    After only a second of silence, the Emperor ripped himself from the window and was before the door within the pace of a heartbeat. ¡°We need to find out more!¡±


    ¡®Shit!¡¯ I cursed, fighting to raise myself from my seat. ¡°Your Imperial Majesty! Wait!¡± But he was already gone.


    Looking around, everyone seemed to be either shocked or outright scared. And as expected, Everandus Cole amiably sat in place, muttering or chortling to himself while he pondered whatever crossed the mind of a living lich.


    Amun, however, simply stood in place. Distantly staring off into space as if he were mortified.

 54 - The Universe

    Amun.


    ***


    I could see it all. I¡­ felt it. In the depths of my being, I could sense the world. Like the cold wind against my skin or light falling into my eyes or the smell of pie wafting into my nose.


    Akin to me seeing and feeling mana like a sixth sense, I could perceive what felt to me like¡­ everything. I could see, hear, and feel the slightest perturbations in space-time via the gravity waves generated by the crowd, the chamber, and even the iron volcano around me. Similarly, I felt the weak currents of electricity running through their nerves and the powerful magnetic fields generated by the Emperor and his daughter. On top of it all, I could once again passively perceive the entire electromagnetic spectrum; albeit in far greater clarity than ever before.


    Everything was like a passive influx of information that never desisted. Creating an abundance of information I immediately passed off to my Eternal Eye before my mind fried in front of the crowd.


    After a deep breath to regain my composure, I allowed a bit of the information to return to the forefront of my consciousness; and the moment I did, I felt the Emperor¡¯s powerful magnetic field racing towards the antechamber with a smaller source of gravity waves trailing not too far behind him.


    Not too long after stepping towards them, His Imperial Majesty burst into the antechamber. Followed shortly after by my father nipping at his heels, yapping away in little huffs like a corgi.


    I, however, was still in shock and thus didn¡¯t listen or pay any notice to the aghast expressions trained at me from around the chamber and antechamber until I was at the threshold of the platform, where the Emperor took a deep breath before turning to my father with thanks and claims that he was right about something. And with that, the Emperor turned to us royal heirs and our vassals with glints of burning pride and wonder radiating in his ancient eyes.


    And in my father¡¯s as well.


    "Congratulations, young Initiates." The Emperor spread his arms before booming his voice out into the chamber. ¡°With this day past, you all have taken your first steps to greatness. Your next step is will by week''s end. Take that time to answer the questions burning deep within each of your minds. Test your new abilities. Grow accustomed to your new natures. On the tenth day of the month, the Association mages will begin their assessment. All are required to attend.¡± He shot a sharp gaze to Abulot before resuming his casually stern tone in the very next breath. ¡°Now, go forth, young initiates. Make use of the facilities in this here mountain, and make yourselves proud.¡±


    At his motion, a few servants appeared from a nearby doorway to escort us through the mountainous maze of the capital to our quarters. Only for the Princess to hijack their task and forcibly take us on a general tour.


    True to its name, the Cast Iron Summit sat inside the vast caldera of an iron volcano formed by the Emperor''s magic- though other metallic volcanoes existed across the Mortal Plane, she made sure to tell us. The complex boasted a radius that ranged anywhere from 80 to 100 kilometers and sat up to twelve kilometers below the rim. Embedded within the rim and the sheer cliffs surrounding the complex were rows upon rows of terraced porches, windows, and alcoves overlooking the expansive caldera. A place where the guests, servants, vassals, and employees lived, according to Roheisa. The main basin below consisted of six smaller calderas arranged like a massive set of staggered ponds that began at the boarding station we arrived in. From there, a wide obsidian staircase stretched to the center of the complex before branching off to the north and south to the other zones of the summit.


    Sitting radially to the entryway were the obligatory trade centers and industrial parks found in every capital city. Beyond those were the administrative hubs from which we just came. The VIP entrance sat on the right while the larger common entries were on the left. From there, the receptionist would direct the visitors through the vast underground complex to their destination. It was from there that our party emerged and turned away from the crowd to continue up the staircase towards the junction, where we turned right; south, to the expansive VIP guest caldera. It was 10 kilometers in radius and, like the other calderas, filled with a thick layer of volcanic soil that supported the dense pocket of forest above it. That forest was then riddled with parks, outdoor theaters, trails, courtyards, and above all, dozens of private guest cabins. Unlike the other calderas, however, the iron wall making up the rim of the summit had been broken off, granting the visitors unbridled views of the sky, ocean, and the Epethian continent beyond. Opposing our little pocket of privacy was the royal castle. An irregular spire of iron and volcanic stone that looked like a crude, scaled-down version of Corvus Tower had been constructed and merged with the summit¡¯s walls; though, it was still colossal and just as magnificent as the distant tower.


    Lastly, an expansive training area sat adjacent to the aforementioned castle. Though, due to the dense brush and the Princess¡¯ sudden impatience, it was an area we weren¡¯t privy to just yet.


    As I expected after coming to understand the layout, the Emperor managed to isolate each of the royals with their vassals in their private areas of the forest. With cabins akin to luxury 21st-century homes. Minus the electronics, of course. The entryway brought us to the second level of a three-story structure. While the master suite sat on that mid-level, it was primarily reserved for the standard kitchen, dining, and living spaces one would expect to find. Eight more suites, each with a private bathroom and walk-in closet, were found scattered throughout the upper floor. As such, we had separate rooms and an expansive entertainment space on the lower level to share.


    After ensuring we were settled and reunited with the other two, Roheisa hurriedly dismissed herself to then trot off in the direction of the castle. Consequently, my vassals and I excitedly huddled around in our little basement. An admittedly expansive, albeit empty area with a sunken lounge placed at the center. We immediately settled ourselves around the U-shaped couch and took a moment to take in the environment before we began.


    To me, Jaimess, and Ed, the only noteworthy item was the horizontal bookshelf-like coffee table sitting in front of us. Contrarily, Toril and Giorno''s eyes seemed to be fixated on the bar sitting adjacent to our little congregation. As for the others, they seemed to be focused on the sliding glass door on the back wall. Or rather, at the steaming pool of water sitting in our backyard.


    ¡°Well then.¡± I sighed, snapping their attention back to the matter at hand. ¡°Who wants to go first?¡±


    ¡°I will!¡± Ed snapped to the edge of his seat at once.


    ¡°Okay.¡± I nodded. ¡°What affinities were you given?¡±


    Smirking to himself, Ed reached out his hand towards the glass door behind me and seemed to take a second to focus. As I turned along with the others, I saw a subtle shift in the ambient mana before the panel slammed open with enough force to send a web of cracks through the door. ¡°Shit.¡± He then cringed quietly.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± I turned back to him, laughing. ¡°What was that, kinetic magic?¡±


    ¡°Basically. It''s Force Magic.¡± He shrugged his head, then held his open palms upward as if he were praying. From his right hand emerged a conical torch of blue-white fire. Above his left, a solid cube of the same silvery metal as before materialized and dropped to the floor with a curiously loud crash.


    ¡°That¡¯s tungsten, isn¡¯t it?¡± I gasped at the sight of the shattered cube on the floor.


    ¡°It is. And Torch magic.¡± Ed meekly nodded. Then sheepishly rubbed his head once our praise came.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go next.¡± Jonet leaned forward. And admittedly, so did I after noticing the fog lingering in the air after her words. ¡°The first core I was given is for thermal magic. Though.¡± She sighed. ¡°I¡¯d like to practice with it a little before giving you all a demonstration.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s... probably for the best.¡± I concurred.


    ¡°As for the others.¡± She beamed before silently clapping her hands. Triggering silent outbursts from a few of the others. ¡°I received sound magic and poison magic.¡±


    ¡°-eak!¡±


    With Jonet¡¯s visible relaxation came Jaimess¡¯ sudden shout. As one, half of us turned to see him meekly straightened himself out before calmly turning to Jonet. ¡°Please, don¡¯t do that again.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯d you get, Jaimie?¡± She giggled in response.


    ¡®Jaimie?¡¯ I raised an inquisitive brow. Then dismissed the matter entirely as Jaimess began turning to the rest of us.


    ¡°My magics are Carbon, Silicon, and Obsidian Magic.¡± He nonchalantly explained, causing the others to lose interest due to their ignorance.


    I, however, was over the moon.


    ¡°What about you?¡± Jaimess somewhat impatiently asked Toril.


    ¡°Gas, Combustion and Weight Magic.¡± My knight flatly stated. ¡°Though, like Jonet, I can¡¯t demonstrate it without breaking something.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m far more interested in what you were granted.¡± Giorno chimed in from the bar. A drink in one hand, cigarette in the other.


    ¡°Me too!¡± Letta bubbly added. "it looked so weird."


    I carefully judged and cataloged each of their comedic reactions into my Eternal Eye as I casually listed off my affinities to them.


    ¡°Gravity. Space-Time. Electromagnetism. And Nuclear Magic.¡± Jaimess repeated slowly after a few moments.


    ¡°The only one I understand is electromagnetism,¡± Toril said. ¡°According to you, lightning is the same as electricity. Yet you have that and magnetism in the same core?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re two sides of the same coin. As is three-dimensional space and time.¡± I explained, drawing a box in the air with my fingers. ¡°To put it simply, electricity can be used to create magnets and magnets can be used to produce electricity. It¡¯s the reason your gauntlets work the way they do.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± He nodded slowly.


    ¡°And¡­ space, and time?¡± Ed sporadically asked.


    ¡°Simply put, time is a measure of change in three-dimensional space. Thus we exist in space-time simultaneously. This is why we measure distances between two points in space by the time it takes to travel, for example.¡±


    ¡°As in us saying the ride here was only a few hours long, as opposed to¡­¡± Jonet added, then suddenly trailed off.


    ¡°Exactly.¡± I nodded. ¡°To move through one is to move through the other, though, it¡¯s an inverse relationship. The faster you move through space, the slower you move through time, and vice versa. From an external reference frame, at least.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t understand.¡± Jaimess shook his head.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°I do.¡± Toril quipped. ¡°When I¡¯m charged with electricity, it¡¯s like the world is hardly even moving while I can move about normally.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Jaimess rolled his eyes away from Toril and sighed before turning to me. ¡°What about gravity and... nuclear?¡±


    ¡°One is simple and one is more¡­ complicated.¡± I snorted at both Jaimess¡¯ attitude towards his peer and the prospects of them understanding nuclear physics in a single conversation. ¡°I planned to write you all a book on the latter eventually. But the former is quite simple. Gravity is the force that keeps your feet planted on the ground.¡±


    They all looked down at their feet in unison- quite the comedic reaction, if I were to remain honest.


    ¡°It¡¯s a force of mutual attraction between all objects that have mass,¡± I explained. ¡°It gets stronger with an increase in mass and weaker with distance. You, me, and everything else in the universe exerts a gravitational pull on everything else. The Mortal Plane is just so massive that the gravity we give off isn''t enough to overcome its inertia.¡±


    That was the moment their minds imploded. Naturally, as a result of all the changes and information they¡¯d been subjected to today. As people lacking Eternal Eyes, I was surprised it took this long for it to happen. The passives granted from my affinities would¡¯ve shattered my mind if it weren¡¯t for the spiritual organ. As such, I could only imagine what some of them were going through.


    To give them a while to digest the information and come to know their new affinities, I decided to peruse the bar to kill some time. Not to drink, however. I¡¯ve never been one to enjoy getting hammered, acting like an idiot all night, and waking up the following day to an empty wallet, a hangover, and horrid stories of last night¡¯s lunacy. I did, however, have an oral fixation for smoking. Cigarettes, e-cigarettes, giggle bush, it didn¡¯t matter to me. I even tried the harder stuff a few times. But only after the negative effects had been refined and I installed my suite of cybernetic organs to filter the rest.


    Oh, how I missed them.


    Quite frustratingly, I found nothing of the sort in the bar. The drinks weren¡¯t even alcoholic, much to the dismay of Toril and Giorno. Interestingly enough, though, the shelves were filled and labeled with potions that did everything from recover stamina, to increase one¡¯s rate of sleep, or even increase the efficiency of their caloric intake.


    ¡°Listen, everyone,¡± I said, turning back to the others with a bottle of the latter in hand. ¡°As I mentioned on the ride here, our means of operation will be changing after the assessment. Jonet.¡± I turned to her. ¡°I have a very specific job for you. One that will last until we graduate. We¡¯ll discuss that in private later.¡±


    I waited until she nodded before I turned to two of my tinkerers. ¡°Letta and Giorno, I''d like to thank you again for going along with my experiments."


    "It''s only a few more years until we awaken them." Giorno waved the matter aside. "And even if it doesn''t work, it''s not as if we wouldn''t receive the same cores we would have received today."


    "Very well," I said, following Letta''s supportive nods. "With only the four of us planning to attend the academy, we¡¯ll be finding a hamlet in the wilds for you two to reside in during our absence. That settlement will one day become the guild¡¯s first territory, so your goal is to uplift the place to our standards and begin spreading your brands in the process. You''ll still be attending the assessment, however, granting you the freedom to take requests and travel freely.¡±


    Though his apprehensiveness was clear, Giorno nodded his agreement without a fuss. Letta on the other hand, enthusiastically agreed as she always did.


    ¡°As for the rest of you. Starting from the moment we arrive at the academy, we are to operate independently. You are not to follow me around wherever I go. I can take care of myself. Similarly, you all can take care of yourselves. That was the reason I trained you so extensively, after all. But, training can only get us so far. Now, we need experience. So, choose your own classes, form your own contacts, make your own circles, and most of all, learn about yourselves. Always remember where your loyalties lie. And never let anyone step on you, regardless of their status.¡± I sternly warned. ¡°That goes for every one of you. Understood?¡±


    ¡°Undoubtedly.¡± Toril grinned.


    And Jonet lowered her head. ¡°Yes, My Lord.¡±


    ¡°Fully,¡± Jaimess said calmly.


    ¡°I do.¡± Ed nodded.


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡± Giorno bowed.


    ¡°Yes, Your Grace.¡± Letta calmly stated, for once.


    ¡°Good.¡± I grinned. ¡°You have my word that I¡¯ll always look out for you. So long as you look after me. While we¡¯re in school, our long-term goal is to recruit favorable people into the guild. I don¡¯t care about skills, those can be developed later. A person¡¯s character is far more important to me. I don¡¯t care how you do it, I trust your judgment. I only care that you do it inconspicuously until further notice.


    They nodded their affirmations once more before moving their separate ways to lounge or rest for the night while Jonet and I moved to a separate area of the house to speak in privacy.

 55 - Ride Along

    Jonet and I relocated to the ¡®front yard¡¯ after leaving the company of the others, and after releasing a silent domain around our persons, we talked for roughly an hour and a half straight.


    During our conversation, I extensively detailed exactly what I wanted her to accomplish in the Epethian continent during our absence and left the finer details for her to decide. After explaining my reasoning and closing with a bit of small talk, she went off to bed for the night while I retired to the master suite to snack on a few pieces of fruit and spend the next few hours in meditation.


    Upon waking and entering the kitchen, I saw Letta and Giorno whispering to each other on their way out the door. Though I could¡¯ve followed them or otherwise ventured to the market any time of the day or night, I decided to hold off purchasing some treasure until after the assessment.


    It wasn¡¯t that I was concerned about what anyone would say. On the contrary, I was only concerned with the adverse effects that the habit would have on my score. And so I spent the next few hours transcribing new tomes for the newly awakened. On top of that, there was the steady endeavor of increasing the transfer rate of information between my Eternal Eye and my stream of consciousness. It¡¯s been on the steady rise since I first turned it off. If I were to estimate, it¡¯s gone up by around five percent in the half-day since then. In other words, at this rate, I¡¯d become accustomed to it by the assessment.


    Even that trivial amount, however, was enough for me to foresee the rueful banging on the front door to our common area. Loud and obnoxious it was. As if the force of each knock had been transmitted through the very walls of the cabin.


    From the myriad of signatures bleeding through the door, it took no effort to guess who the culprit was. ¡°Good morning!¡± Roheisa Deapou beamed through the door. Then immediately frowned after looking inside our common area. ¡°Why is it so dark in there?¡± She pushed herself through to look around and activate the lights in the foyer. ¡°This is depressing.¡±


    I failed to even have the energy to roll my eyes as I monotonously sighed. ¡°It¡¯s dark because I am a half-drow with an affinity to the shadows.¡±


    The princess made a sneering or skeptical face at me before pivoting on her heels towards the door. ¡°My father wants me to show you all to the training grounds. We need to get ready for the assessment.¡±


    ¡°What do you know about it?¡± I quickly asked.


    My question halted her mid-step and forced a curt laugh from her lungs. Her arms rose to cross her chest while she pivoted back to me, sneering as she mockingly said. ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°My Great-Grandfather is a tease.¡± I amiably shrugged.


    ¡°Hmpf.¡± She snorted. Squinted at me in disbelief before turning halfway to the door and sighing. ¡°Well.¡± She sighed again as she turned back, causing her arms to flail out to her sides. ¡°It¡¯s a bit like the awakening ceremony. Only, it¡¯s run by the Guild Association. They¡¯ll have us place our hand on a crystal, and it¡¯ll tell them of our mana pores and wells. After that.¡± She paused to smile warmly at my vassals, emerging from the basement. ¡°They¡¯ll be testing us on our proficiency in physical fitness, martial combat, elemental practice, and magical prowess.¡±


    ¡®Well, that sounds interesting.¡¯ I internally grinned as I nodded and smiled on the outside. ¡°Okay. I planned to give my vassals a few lessons in their affinities today. You¡¯re welcome to come along.¡±


    She squinted and subtly shook her head in confusion before turning the shakes into a hastened nod. ¡°Yes. I will.¡±


    ¡°Can you fly?¡± I asked, failing to hold back a sly grin.


    ¡°I- I think?¡± She shook her head again. ¡°If I use my steel and magnetic magic in combination. Yes?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay if you can¡¯t.¡± I smiled. Heading for the door. ¡°Let''s go.¡±


    With our party now formed, I led the way outside and took an immediate turn to the south. Prompting the Princess to scurry up behind me, shouting. ¡°You¡¯re going the wrong way!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going somewhere a little more private.¡± I turned to her with a placid smirk. ¡°And, there¡¯s no need to yell. I''m right here.¡±


    Much to my amusement, Roheisa began pouting after that. And continued almost the entire way to the southern rim. Her demeanor only changed to apprehension when I jumped atop the railing and took a moment to peer down to the crashing shores, over twenty kilometers below. I then cycled a deep breath before focusing on my somewhat crowded spiritual body.


    While my hereditary core and my mana well still sat around my naval and heart respectively, my other cores were scattered around my body in seemingly random places. Forming at least one other mark on my body, I¡¯ve since come to learn. Keeping with the favored analogy, if my Mana Well was my heart, then my nuclear magic core was my sternum. Producing a soft, radiant glow under the abyssal branches covering my upper chest. Conversely, my electromagnetic, space-time, and gravity magic cores were positioned around my nape, diaphragm, and groin respectively. Due to either their positions or their natures, however, they produced no marks that I was aware of.


    After taking a moment to familiarize myself with the orientation of the magical organs, I started to stream a bit of mana toward my gravity core and allowed it to flood my entire body while a single thought repeated in my mind. And with another deep breath, I stepped off the platform.


    From that gentle step, I drifted away from the rail at a snail''s pace until the cold, dense air managed to drag me to a stop. Where I helplessly hung in the air just a few meters beyond the railing, smiling like a kid in a candy store while the others threw stupefied gazes in my direction. Each of them remained locked in such a state until the natural updraft began blowing me skyward. Slapping them all from their stupor and motivating them to take action.


    Like me, Ed used a tiny bit of his force magic to make himself levitate above the ground. An experience he immediately fell in love with, from what I could see. Contrarily, Toril cast a gas reinforcement spell, turning his body into a nearly transparent mass of wood-brown fog that drifted seamlessly through the air around me, appearing to reform and be dispersed ad infinitum. Roheisa, on the other hand, simply conjured a steel plate to step on and used her magnetism to carry both it and her through the air. Leaving Jonet and Jaimess to fly atop an origami bird.


    Without any further delay, I conjured a tiny gravity well above my head. One minuscule in power and tailored to exert an effect on my body alone, enabling me to control the intensity and direction of pull at will.


    ¡°We¡¯ll talk up there.¡± I pointed upwards, then began plummeting into the sky.


    After breaching the clouds moments later, I killed my velocity and soon after, dispersed the Artificial Well, leaving me as if I were on the float in deep space. Blissfully drifting wherever the wind took me.


    Though most of the Plane below was concealed by a scattered blanket of dense clouds, the sheer scale of the heavenly realm around me was enough to leave me breathless. The others seemed to go through similar bouts of existential euphoria before sequentially turning their attention to me. Noticing their rekindled excitement, I prepared a simple gravity domain before saying. ¡°Cancel your spells on my mark.¡±


    The ending of the countdown and the sequence of events that followed pulled a cold, satisfactory grin from the darkest places of my mind. At that moment, I saw, with my own eyes, the absolute trust my vassals had in me. Jaimess even jumped the gun, causing him and Jonet to fall a few meters before the effect took hold. The princess, on the other hand, inadvertently pulled herself into the sky before killing her magic, making her plummet through our gravitational pocket before she was pulled back up like a screaming yo-yo.


    ¡°So.¡± I turned away from her, laughing. ¡°Who wants to go first?¡±


    ¡°I think you should go first!¡± Roheisa threw her arms around. ¡°What is this?¡±


    ¡°Gravity magic. And I¡¯ll go last.¡± I casually spat. Then formed a bull sign to simultaneously point at her and Toril. ¡°There¡¯s something I want to teach you two.¡±


    Taking initiative; I assumed, Jaimess floated forth with his body bent into a bow. ¡°I will go first, Your Grace."


    I nearly rolled my eyes at the title. But I supposed I should¡¯ve been glad that they kept up the act in front of the Princess. ¡°Very well.¡± I sighed. ¡°Since obsidian is relatively self-explanatory, we¡¯ll start with your carbon magic. You all know of carbon as coal, but using carbon-based magic will grant you the usage of many materials with fascinating properties. Including diamond.¡±


    ¡°Diamond?¡± The princess floated in. ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t interrupt.¡± I sternly turned to her.


    She reluctantly nodded. Then I turned back to Jaimess. ¡°In its base, powdery form, or as charcoal, carbon can be used to counter toxins and poisons in the air or within your body; similarly, it can be used to filter undrinkable water. Carbon also exists in the air, in a bond with oxygen. Either as carbon dioxide- The gas we expel with each breath; or carbon monoxide, the gas emitted from burning lanterns, for instance. Both of which are odorless, colorless gasses that will kill you if you breathe too much of it. Graphite- or coal, and diamonds, are two of the top ten best natural heat conductors in existence. Exotic materials notwithstanding. Meaning, they can hold a lot of thermal energy without burning or melting, but that¡¯s where the similarities cease. Graphite is incredibly soft and is an electric conductor, though it is not as efficient as copper. Diamond, on the other hand, is the hardest non-metallic and non-magical material in existence, but it doesn¡¯t conduct electricity at all. Lastly, I¡¯m certain that you can make a material called graphene. A material with amazing properties that I¡¯ll give you more details about later. For now, let''s start with diamonds. Particles and atoms, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Jaimess quickly nodded, triggering a confused glare from Roheisa. During the exchange, I took a sheet of a vial of ink out of the folds of my sleeve and drew a tetrahedral lattice in the air with a mix of gravity magic and water manipulation. ¡°Now, take the individual carbon atoms and use them as the points for this structure,¡± I said, pointing to the matrix. ¡°No lines. Only points. Arranged to make a single, giant shape.¡±


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    It took him a while. A few minutes, actually. But, he eventually managed to produce a palm-sized diamond in his hand. Causing him to break his character for a moment and erupt in a sudden outburst of excitement.


    ¡°Silicon is more complicated and versatile.¡± I continued once he calmed down. ¡°On Maru,¡± and Earth, ¡°it rarely exists in nature in a pure state. Instead, like carbon, it¡¯s bound to oxygen to make silicon dioxide; or quartz. That crystal alone has interesting properties, but finely ground quartz is a major component of ordinary sand and sandstone. Quartz sand, also referred to as silica sand or white sand, can be used along with your carbon and a few rocks to make a water filter; or, it can be used alone as an abrasive. It can also be mixed with other materials to make clays, cement, mortar, ceramics, and porcelain. Even glass is made with silicon, among other things.¡± I slyly snorted. Causing the princess''s awed gaze to morph into one of skeptic curiosity. ¡°I don¡¯t know if having an affinity with silicon grants you access to all of those materials from the start or if you¡¯ll have to mix them yourself; either with natural materials or mana. You¡¯ll have to experiment on your own to find out.¡±


    ¡°I will, Your Grace.¡± Jaimess bowed again. ¡°Thank you for your wisdom.¡±


    ¡°Me next!¡± The Princess excitedly floated in.


    ¡°Jonet first,¡± I said. ¡°I have something to teach you and Toril, remember?¡±


    Her lips snarled a bit as she floated back but otherwise said nothing. As did I, naturally, as I turned to Jonet.


    ¡°We¡¯ll start with your sound magic,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m sure it gives you hearing far above any of ours and I¡¯m aware that you can nullify sound. However, I¡¯m positive that you can perfectly mimic any sound as well. By itself, that may not seem like much, but imagine a natural disaster; such as a volcanic eruption, a cannon firing, or a devastating spell being unleashed without a single noise being heard.¡± I grinned sadistically. ¡°On top of that, you can single-handedly disrupt enemy formations by causing a lapse in communication. Contrarily, your magic will prove to be vital to the success of our guild. Beyond that, sound can be used to both heal and hinder both matter and life through the harsh vibrations of air or another medium; which is essentially what sound is. The frequency of those vibrations determines the sound of all things around us. And all things have frequencies that they both resonate with and are ruptured by. Like the bard breaking glass with their voice.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± She bowed.


    ¡°The last thing I want to tell you regarding sound magic is that it is most powerful in the water.¡± I pointed out. ¡°Now, as for thermal magic. That is possibly stronger than any of my magical affinities. You, Jonet, are a source of perpetual energy. Do any of you know how to produce electricity without magic?¡± It was a rhetorical question of course. I only wanted to see where the inhabitants of Maru stood on the scale of technological progression.


    ¡°What¡¯s electricity?¡± Roheisa asked.


    I tried not to snort. I truly did.


    ¡°It¡¯ll take a while to explain, so I¡¯ll write it down later. I¡¯ll give you a copy if you want?¡±


    My vassals seemed shocked at me seemingly offering my knowledge freely. Though the books regarding tactics and engineering marvels were to remain well-guarded secrets for the foreseeable future, mostly everything else was free reign for anyone interested in learning. ¡®It seems like I have to reiterate that.¡¯ I internally sighed. I was never the type to hoard knowledge. More so, both my mother¡¯s story and Telin¡¯s words, when he saw me off, left a nagging thought in the back of my mind that I couldn¡¯t let remain as a loose end.


    Telin, elves, dragons, whoever it was, they planned to torment me in this life. I had no way of knowing what their plans were, however. Or if they even had any at all. But I refused to ignore the possibility that misery would find its way to me at some point. Compounding that paranoia was the sapling in the back of my mind that assumed that magic may cease to exist in the universe. If in the event that ever happened, I wanted to ensure I wouldn¡¯t be forced to live through a reawakening of the dark ages. And to do that, the people around me were going to have to become a hell of a lot more scientifically affluent.


    My overall goal hadn¡¯t changed. Rather, it¡¯s been refined into creating an empire that¡¯s fueled by the laws of both nature and magic. We were going into the realm of MagiTech. After all, it was always better to have and not need.


    The princess nodded silently, surprise and suspicion still written across her face as I turned back to Jonet.


    ¡°Your magic once again comes down to particles,¡± I said. ¡°As I explained before, the motion of these particles on the small scale is what we, on the large scale, perceive as temperature. The faster these particles move the hotter the material feels to us and vice versa. your magic gives you absolute control over the motion of all particles. And I¡¯ll give you a scale to control those particles to the finest degree. As for poison magic.¡± I shrugged. ¡°The best I can do is give you the same list of poisons I was given. Though we can''t exactly sample them without my Great-Grandfather''s sample case.¡±


    Despite me coming short on her last affinity, Jonet quickly floated forward with her hand over her heart. ¡°You¡¯ve given me more than enough, My Lord.¡± She shook her head.


    ¡®Perhaps.¡¯ I internally shrugged and turned to Ed. ¡°Your torch magic is self-explanatory, as it''s the same principle as Elemental Fusion. Thus we¡¯ll focus on your force and tungsten magic. The first is quite simple. You only need to remember a simple equation. Force equals the mass of an object multiplied by acceleration. In itself, force is the energy that results in an object changing motion. If my hypothesis is correct, the amount of mana charged into your spells influences both the acceleration variable and the result of force. Though, the interesting part comes with your next affinity.


    ¡°Tungsten.¡± I excitedly grinned. ¡°Excluding adamantine, tungsten is the hardest, non-magical metal in existence; on top of that, it¡¯s non-ferrous and has the highest melting point of any metal in the same category. Plus it is similar in density to gold. In other words, a little of it weighs a whole lot. As we saw last night.¡± I snorted, triggering yet another bemused glare from Roheisa. ¡°With all its benefits, however, tungsten is extremely brittle. This makes it unsuitable for use as a weapon or armor unless it can be reformed after each hit. With your Force Magic, however, it can make the perfect projectile.¡± I sadistically grinned. "Like a cannonball or ballista."


    Thankfully, Ed seemed to catch my drift, necessitating no need to elaborate further. And so, I turned to Toril. Causing the princess¡¯ excitement to finally erupt.


    ¡°Now, Toril. Your gas magic is more than just assimilating into the air.¡± I explained, ignoring the Princess easing ever closer. ¡°Every natural element in existence can be made into a gas under the right conditions. Even the dirt we live on, the steel in our weapons; even the most resilient of materials can be made into gasses, given a high enough temperature. Additionally, there are more non-magical elements than there are letters in the alphabet. 118 of them, at least. And each of them has their unique properties that I believe you can manipulate at will; so long as they are in a gaseous state.¡± I added. ¡°Lastly, many of them can be combined with your combustion magic to create truly magnificent explosions. Expect some new reading material regarding these elements.¡± I said, turning to my other vassals. ¡°All of you.¡±


    They nodded their affirmations and I turned to face both Toril and the princess. The latter of which eagerly floated up at a moment''s notice.


    ¡°Now, I¡¯ve already explained this to Toril.¡± I sighed. ¡°But, electricity and magnetism are two sides of the same coin. That said, one of my affinities is electromagnetism. Toril.¡± I called before the Princess could question me. ¡°Put on your gauntlet.¡±


    He did as told and pulled the wire-wrapped gauntlet over his right hand. Then looked at me expectantly.


    ¡°I designed this gauntlet for Toril and it was made by Ed,¡± I explained to the Princess while gesturing for the former to activate it. Doing as instructed, Toril sent his charged mana through the wire in a continuous loop, producing almost no noticeable effect besides a soft hum and a bit of waste heat.


    ¡°Can you make me a stick?¡± I asked the princess.


    She seemed confused but did as asked without any fuss. After taking it from her, I slowly held it out toward Toril¡¯s arm and let go as it snapped against the coils.


    ¡°That¡¯s!¡± The princess gasped.


    ¡°An electromagnet,¡± I explained. ¡°Produced when a conductor like iron is wrapped in a coil of wire carrying an electric current. The problem is, the copper conductor isn¡¯t perfect. The electrical current faces a resistance that causes it to lose some of its energy as it passes through, manifesting as heat.¡± I nodded to the singed pieces of leather atop the gauntlets. ¡°There are natural materials that can carry a current without resistance. But many of those materials have to be cooled to absurdly low temperatures for the effect to take place.¡± I glanced at Jonet. ¡°Since Toril has a lightning affinity, however, his entire body is a perfect conductor of electricity; meaning, it can carry a charge indefinitely with no loss to heat. Now.¡± I pointed. ¡°A material like that doesn¡¯t exist naturally, but your axe is proof that there¡¯s a magical material that does.


    ¡°Similarly, my body is a perfect conductor, and you, having a steel affinity, are at least a regular conductor.¡± I pointed at myself before Roheisa. ¡°Since that¡¯s the case, my theory should work. And in your case, the heat born from the electrical resistance should be of benefit to you.¡±


    ¡°What theory should work?¡± She shook her head. "And how would it benefit me?"


    ¡°Hold out your hand.¡±


    She recoiled at once. Backed away blinking in bemusement for a moment, only to drift back with her arm held out in the next one.


    ¡°Now, you may have to imbue steel magic into your arm if it doesn¡¯t work, but produce a magnetic field and move it around your hand at a furious pace.¡±


    After making a face, Princess Roheisa did as I instructed and soon after yelped in surprise before pulling her hand toward her face. I, on the other hand, similarly cackled in excitement at my theory being proven correct before my eyes. And to prove it to the others, I pulled the charge from Roheisa¡¯s hand, causing another joyous yelp from her reveling at the sparks being generated between us.


    ¡°This is called Electromagnetic Induction.¡± I enthusiastically explained.


    ¡°This is amazing!¡± She beamed at me, leaning a bit too close in the process. ¡°Father was right. You are a genius.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I drifted away, shaking my head. ¡°I simply learned how to understand things at a fundamental level. Be those things people or nature. And soon enough, magic and monsters.¡±


    ¡°The one downside to a peaceful empire, my father says.¡± The Princes chided.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather grow up in peace than spend my childhood in war,¡± I commented, more to myself than to anyone else. Thinking of the atrocities I saw during my tours on Earth gave me a newfound appreciation for the life given to me by my parents in this realm. Arranged though my birth may have been. At least this world wasn¡¯t as miserable as Earth was. And at least the denizens of this realm had the power to fight against their oppressors. Though, I was sure people were still just as horrible as anywhere else.


    We were the culture, after all.


    ¡°Roheisa.¡± I turned to her. ¡°You intend to go to the academy, yes?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡± She nodded.


    ¡°And then what?¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± She huffed. ¡°My father wants me to join an esteemed military or a guild if I can¡¯t form my own. ¡®An emperor or empress with no combat experience is no leader.¡¯ He says.¡±


    ¡®Jeez. It¡¯s always he said this, he says that with this woman.¡¯ I groaned internally before impatiently nodding. ¡°Okay. But what do YOU want to do?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She admitted. ¡°I do agree with my father in the sense that I have no experience. I¡¯m sure you understand.¡± She turned to see the island on the horizon. ¡°I¡¯ve never left this place. I need to learn more about myself and about the realms before I know what I want to do.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite admirable and mature of you,¡± I admitted. ¡°Well, you have at least three years at the academy to decide. So, take your time.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± She smiled. ¡°And what do you plan to do, Grand Duke Amun of Odissi?¡±


    I turned to the west, where a soft blue glow like an aurora painted the sky and the waters below it, and nodded to it with a grin. ¡°I¡¯m going to form a guild. Then, we¡¯ll retake Ulai.¡±


    She immediately shook her head. ¡°What are you going to do about the portals though? You may be able to kill all the monsters, but more of them will follow in their wake.¡±


    ¡°I have a few ideas.¡± I coyly smiled, then peered down to the ground. ¡°But that¡¯s beside the point. Our lessons are over. I¡¯m sure you all have much you want to put to the test, and I do as well. Besides.¡± I paused to begin dropping us towards the castle. ¡°I¡¯m tired of carrying you all.¡±


    Without another word, I swooped us down to a gentle landing in the courtyard we departed from and waited until they had their footing before releasing my spells on them. I, however, remained floating horizontally above the ground as if I were hanging from a harness.


    ¡°Well, have fun.¡± I waved. Then allowed my body to drop into Shadow Realm.

 56 - Lightning Dragon

    Roheisa Deapou.


    ***


    Roughly four days passed before I was comfortable enough to showcase what I learned to my father. Quite disappointingly, however, he was insistent on having me wait until the assessment. So with that no longer being an option, I attempted to do as Amun did and instruct my vassals in their magics.


    Or, I tried to, at least.


    I had no ¡®fundamental¡¯ understanding of swords, mirrors, pearls, feathers, or even bronze. I only knew a bit about lava, steel, crystals, and magnetism. Or, that¡¯s what I thought. So with nothing else to do, I spent another day training on my own before I gave in and sought out Amun for a personal lesson.


    It was just before dusk when I began the search around the castle for him. I must¡¯ve rounded the place thrice over the course of a few hours until it finally hit me. Not even ten minutes later. I was at the front of their guest cabin, meekly knocking on the door. Coincidentally, it was the one named Jonet who I found first. Samantha¡¯s spitting image. I remembered she had sound magic only after I told her of my intentions. When she simply looked up into the sky and whispered that I wished to speak with Amun. And in the next moment, his baritone voice rippled from behind, startling me to my core.


    Pivoting on my heels, I turned to see him standing to my side about a meter away. Smiling as if he¡¯d been there the whole time and it took until now for me to notice. Leaving me stunned while Jonet simply bowed and backed away. ¡°How can I help you, princess?¡± He monotonously asked again.


    ¡°I hear you¡¯re gifted in elemental manipulation,¡± I said after shaking my composure upright. ¡°I would like some lessons. Please.¡± I lowered my head.


    ¡°Sure.¡± He amiably shrugged. Then squatted to reach into a dark amorphous pool that suddenly spread below his feet. From it, he retrieved a pair of books and promptly handed them to me.


    I hurriedly took them to look through the titles. Titles that interested me greatly at just a glance. ''The Fundamentals of Elemental Manipulation, by Amun of Odissi.'' ''Elemental Fundamentals II: Elemental Fusion, by Amun of Odissi.'' ''Introduction to the Periodic Table of the Elements and The Phases of Matter, by Amun of Odissi.''


    ¡°Those are yours to keep.¡± He nonchalantly said. ¡°Read and come to understand them. Take as much time as you need.¡±


    ¡°Th- that¡¯s it?¡± I stammered. ¡°I know you know more than just this. Teach me what you spoke of earlier.¡±


    ¡°I already gave you books regarding your affinities, Princess.¡± He spat with cold condescension. ¡°That aside, my priority is on the assessment.¡± He gave me a foul grin as he slowly began rising into the sky. And without thinking I reached up to him.


    "Wait!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± He turned down to me, groaning impatiently.


    ¡®How rude.¡¯ I gasped. Then took a deep breath to subdue the heat rising within me. ¡°I have something to show you,¡± I said, turning my heels with a coy smile.


    ¡°Okay.¡± He sighed. ¡°Show me.¡±


    ¡°Not here.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Follow me.¡± After skipping along for a few paces and hearing nothing but silence behind me, the burning annoyance turned with a vengeance. Forcing me to spin on my heels and immediately spin back in embarrassment. ¡®Too close!¡¯ I internally gasped. Turning slower this time, I again saw Amun¡¯s inverted face occupying most of my vision. He was floating just over my shoulder. Drifting with his back to the ground as if he were lounging in a bed made of air. Turning back to my front, the burning in my chest began spreading to my face. Forcing an increase in my pace that eventually resulted in me power-walking towards the gymnasium with a half-drow steadily drifting over my shoulder.


    I waited until I made it to the center of the training grounds before I stopped and hoped with all my heart Amun didn¡¯t run into me. Thankfully, he seamlessly drifted past me and looped around my body as if were somehow tethered together, even while his concentration remained focused on the large gems embedded into the walls.


    ¡°Those enchantments regenerate any structural damage to the place.¡± I eagerly explained. ¡°This one of the places I grew accustomed to my steel magic. And it''s where I¡¯ve spent the last few days with my vassals or with my father, training. I¡¯m surprised your vassals haven¡¯t come here.¡± I then wondered aloud.


    ¡°Well, they can all fly. So.¡± Amun amiably shrugged. ¡°They¡¯re probably off in the woods somewhere. Training on their own.¡±


    ¡°You give them a lot of independence,¡± I commented.


    ¡°It¡¯s good for them.¡± He shrugged again. ¡°They¡¯ll be leading their own subordinates one day. I¡¯m only preparing them early.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re serious about this, aren¡¯t you?¡± I asked. ¡°You actually intend to go to Ulai?¡±


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I be?¡± Amun scoffed.


    ¡°Because there¡¯s no reason to.¡± I shook my head in confusion. ¡°The barrier holds the monsters back for us. The weaker monsters are taken care of by the guilds. And even if you somehow eradicate them. The portals will still be there. More will follow.¡±


    ¡°How long do you think the barrier will last?¡± Amun contemptuously laughed.


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.¡°It¡¯s held for almost two and a half centuries.¡± I scoffed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be naive, princess.¡± Amun calmly said. ¡°Two hundred years is not a long time. That¡¯s not even half of your father¡¯s lifetime. We¡¯d be fools to place our hopes on a single barrier holding back armies that potentially number in the hundreds of millions. If it breaks, this beloved society of ours will cease to exist. As will every society in Maru.¡±


    ¡°And you plan to do this yourself?¡± I laughed in disbelief.


    ¡°With my guild.¡± Amun curtly nodded. ¡°Yes.¡±


    I could only look at him in a stupor. His perpetually calm demeanor made it nearly impossible to read him. As such, I couldn¡¯t tell if he¡¯d been toying with me the entire time or if he was completely serious. Sure, he seemed resolute in his convictions. But the tone he had when talking of his outrageous goals only made me think he took the entire affair too lightly. Even though he himself conveyed an understanding of the dangers involved.


    In other words, he was out of his mind.


    ¡°What did you want to show me?¡± He impatiently asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ve mastered your electricity.¡± I spat back, then stepped a few ways away from him.


    As he taught me, I created fields of magnetism around my hands and spun them around at a furious pace. After only a few seconds of charging, I swung a hook at an invisible opponent, sending a cluster of sparks arcing to a training dummy standing a few meters away.


    ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± Amun frowned, yet nodded at the obliterated target. Yet he sighed greatly, morphing his roused expression into one of sheer bemusement. ¡°But... why is it so small?¡±


    ¡°W- what?¡± I shook my head.


    ¡°Make it bigger.¡± He simply said. ¡°And put it around your entire body.¡±


    ¡°Show me.¡± I took an unconscious step forward. Followed by another. ¡°At full power.¡±


    He made a face but returned his feet to the ground nonetheless. Or a centimeter or two above it, at least. I wondered for a second if he ever intended to walk again before that thought was ripped asunder by the feeling of nature''s fury surging behind me.


    Turning, I saw massive fields extending from both his feet and the crown of his head, and both were spinning wildly in opposing directions to build a colossal deposit of lightning- or electricity within his body. Instead of remaining within his body to act as a source of heat as I experienced, however, the energy began lashing out at our surroundings, proving to him that my aforementioned claim of mastery wasn¡¯t a mere boast. Even then though, my boast was a petty notion in comparison to what transpired next.


    Unlike me, he could add pure electrically-attributed mana to what he was generating, thus he extended both pointer fingers out before him. Immediately, the energy building within him ceased its lashing and instead began arcing across to hands to then course back through his arm and body to merge with the flood of mana emerging from his core. Around and around, the energy looped and charged until I felt as if two or even more of my wells had been released into his body. And only then, did Amun thrust his right arm forward.


    The pent-up energy released in the form of an undulating serpent of pure lightning. Its radiance shocked the approaching night into adopting a noon-like ambiance, demanding all eyes in Maru to follow it skyward until it struck the very heavens and blossomed into a brilliant blanket of blue; the thickest blanket of lightning I¡¯d ever seen. It spread across the clouds in an instant, illuminating what I was sure to be the entirety of Maru with a light show of dazzling blue waves and patterns I could only describe as divine. What followed, however, could have only been described as devilish. A fiendishly deafening, bone-shattering cackle of thunder that could easily outmatch the roar of any dragon, venerated or not. And much to my dismay, well over a minute passed before the last traces of lightning flickered out, sending the last residual booms of thunder rolling across the sky until they too dissipated in the distant clouds.


    As quickly as it changed, the arena returned to its dim and quiet ambiance, relegating me to a place that left me staring in awe and fully aware of my mouth being completely agape as I stared, wide-eyed at Amun, doubled over and gasping heavily while the ambient energy topped up his reserves up in record time. Yet he was nowhere near recovered.


    Regrettably, it took a few more moments or perhaps minutes to finally pull myself to my feet and help the Grand Duke of Odissi to his; gasping. ¡°How- how much mana did you use?¡±


    ¡°All of it.¡± He cackled like a mad lad. ¡°I wanted to test my limits. It was either this, destroy everything, or put Maru through an hour of darkness.¡±


    A cold shudder ran down my spine from the mere mention of it. A shudder that was followed by a wave of relief. Quelling my unease like the distant thunder finally waning out. The darkness was something I was comfortable with. Or at least, that¡¯s what I used to think. With the stars, one could just barely see at night. With torchlight and enchantments, however, entire cities could be illuminated until dawn. But that darkness was¡­ invasive. It permeated my mind just as much as it did the environment. Filling my head with all kinds of horrific thoughts. It was a sensation I never wanted to experience again for the rest of my days.


    After only a few minutes, I felt the mana around Amun stabilizing. Causing my admiration to swell once again from the question of how wide his pores must¡¯ve been for him to recover that much mana so quickly. Still, it was evident he was still plagued by the after-effects of mana exhaustion. As he was sluggishly draped over an invisible something in midair as if he was half-asleep.


    ¡°That was amazing, Amun!" I finally managed to say. "The mages will surely be impressed with you!¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He lethargically sighed.


    I frowned at myself after seeing the lousy demeanor of the powerful initiate floating before me. It was obvious from the start that he felt as if he had something better to do. And now, he was far more fatigued than he was when I demanded his presence. That said, he and I were considered equals within the hierarchy of our Empires. Yet, he still took the time to heed my request. With that request now carried out, I realized I was only holding him up. So I politely bowed to him. ¡°Thank you, Amun.¡± I smiled warmly. ¡°You will make a great magus someday.¡±


    ¡°And you will find your calling in due time, Princess.¡± He smiled in turn. Then drifted off back into the sky.


    Alone once again, I sat against the wall of the arena and began reading through the books Amun gave me.


    They were¡­ extraordinary, to say the least. Fundamental ways, as he said, to manipulate the elements. And more so, how to fuse them to manipulate things like dust, mud, or high-powered flames. After spending nearly the entire night reading and putting the new knowledge to the test, I gathered my vassals at sunrise and began drilling them with everything I¡¯d learned until I almost collapsed from fatigue on the spot. I repeatedly ordered them to keep training until dusk as I was dragged off by a group of servants and forced to sleep. And sleep I did. For nearly an entire day, I slept. Leaving a measly two days of preparation before the assessment began. Naturally, I ripped myself out of bed and devoted a full day to training with my vassals. But by that night my father sent word that everyone¡¯s training was restricted so we could have time to rest for the ceremony the following day.


    I knew that come morning, the officials from throughout the empire and high-ranking officers from the militaries and guilds would be showing their faces more and more than they already were. So I decided to lay low around the residential quarters until the assessment finally began. As torturous as that was.

 57 - The Eyes of Maru

    ***


    The Marulean God of Conquest.


    ***


    The time was nigh, and though many of our eyes gazed upon the myth himself, mine were down in the courtyards of the Cast Iron Summit, gazing upon the children of my fallen sister. She and those like her bore the mark of the Marulean Guild Association, making them privy enough to acquire accommodations built for a king. From a glance, it seemed they were just winding down from duty talk and were moving on to more... trivial matters.


    Totaling eight, the gathering was composed of mostly women. Yet if you asked them, they all were women- sisters, and warriors in the same breath. The two ''men'' could be seen teetering on the precipice of the yard rather than lounging in their private spring with the rest of them. One shamefully shied away from the yard as he chain-smoked cigarettes while the other, a Ranked Mage, sat at the bar inside to pay almost no mind to the others while he incessantly flipped through the stack of papers before him. Until, of course, the most distinguished of them all spoke her mind.


    She was a remarkably young Grandmaster Mage, Gysil Vilignin. Amazonian by birth. Though, even without being a descendant of my sister, she would tower over her subordinates from where she lounged in the hot springs all the same. Such was the greatness she possessed. But it was only the blood of my late sister that made her a true conqueror. Mightiest of all humans in both the past and the future. Such was the greatness of Amazonia, whom we''ve sworn to see returned to its rightful owners.


    Through the God of Lore, they were made to remember.


    Through the God of War, they retained their strength.


    Through the God of Conquering, they would return on that fateful day.


    ¡°It is settled.¡±


    Her cold tone alone demanded the attention of her subordinates until her words, however long or short they were, were spent. It was the respect each of them held for Grandmaster Vilignin that made them hold their eyes on their titan of a commander, wondering a myriad of different things while she eased her tensed frame a bit deeper into the springs. Then, she turned her burning gaze to the one adjacent to her. ¡°Remember to show restraint with the commoners, Sol. The other guilds are whiny enough as is.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep my eye on her, Madam.¡± Yolanda Tubbs stood to give a stone-faced salute, then turned to face the shameful Magi at the edge of the yard and yell. ¡°You heard the Madame, Dutch!¡±


    He in turn, meekly gave the Staff Sergeant a thumbs up before stepping off further into the cabin at a curiously fast pace. Such were the plights of the prude and meek.


    Though she wouldn¡¯t show it, Grandmaster Vilignin was amused by and even enjoyed the dynamic between her most trusted sergeants and their newest additions. Their two new Magi couldn¡¯t have been further apart in terms of abilities. Dutch Wilders was seasoned in the field- enough to be noticed by the God of War. But he lacked leadership experience. Skye Valentine, on the other hand, was a natural-born leader- a conqueror through and through with a remarkable record compiled back at headquarters. That said, assessing the royal heirs of Deapou and Odissi would be his first time working outside the office. Despite the Magi trying to hide it, the unease was more than apparent in his visage. He was naturally quiet, for one. Two, he failed to notice the Grandmaster¡¯s studious eye until the Staff Sergeant spoke up in her trademark, grainy voice.


    ¡°I¡¯ve already sent the word to our troops, Madame. They know their orders and who they¡¯re working with. They¡¯re going over the dossiers now.¡±


    ¡°Good work, Lia.¡±


    So saying, Gysil eased herself lower into the soothing waters and prepared to let her mind slip away for a few moments until duty once again called. Tuning out the chatter of her subordinates whilst resting was a skill she acquired as a young novice in the Association. Though that time was ages ago, she felt a sense of deja vu from her inability to mute those around her now.


    ¡°So, you were the one with the lucky draw.¡±


    By sound alone, one would assume that Idonea Heydon had simply made an ambiguous and obvious comment. Having grown close to one another through countless battles, however, all but the two Magi¡¯s heard the envious inquiry for what it was. More so, Grandmaster Vilignin foresaw what was coming next. So she quickly blurted out the first thought to resurface in her mind to steer the Master Mage¡¯s words in a different direction.


    ¡°What are your opinions on the prospects?¡± She asked.


    ¡°I can see most of the commoners and nobles being recruited.¡± Yolanda distantly waved a hand. ¡°Only the royals are going to the Tree, though. Perhaps some nobles too.¡± She waved again. ¡°But highly unlikely.¡±


    ¡°The question is, will our tests be able to accurately gauge his prowess?¡±


    Despite the ambiguity of her words, each of them understood exactly who Master Heydon was referring to. The one everyone in the guild- nay, in the entire Cast Iron Summit, was focused on. Perhaps it was due to that reason, many of them assumed, that no one could get eyes on him long enough to provide an answer. In turn, that made Grand Duke Amun of Odissi¡¯s dossier the smallest of them all. Due to the privacy of the accommodations, the guild hadn¡¯t even been able to learn what affinities he was granted. Adding to both the mystique surrounding him and rising the angst of those who had to wait to witness his prowess.


    ¡°Is he still up there, Madame?¡± Yolanda asked after a bit of silence.


    ¡°No.¡± Gysil quickly shook her head. ¡°Princess Roheisa dragged him to the training grounds earlier. They should still be-¡±


    Cutting her words short was a sudden spike in mana that shook her to her very core. As one, the gathering of eight sprang from the springs to scramble for their gear.


    And as one, they stopped in place to crane their necks to the blue-white sky.


    ***


    The Marulean God of War.


    ***


    Hatred. Vengeance. Fury. War. These things in the eyes of Maruleans were like the smell of blood on a wolf''s snout. Like the eyes of that same creature, witnessing another steal its prey. In the same way, a column of blackened smoke could be seen rising from the base of a dense alpine forest. If any were to see it, their minds would instinctively know that if they were to move closer to the source, one could hear the screams, cries, and vengeful shouts aimed at the heavens. Aimed at me, the God of such vile things. If they were to arrive, they would come across a modest hamlet that faced the largest trial a rising civilization would ever face- war. They would bear witness to a meager scattering of smoldering homes, burning farms, and the ruined beginnings of a quarry tucked against the mountain; bathed in the rain of suffrage.


    And yet in the midst of it all stood a weary shepherd surrounded by his bleating herd. Like many of them and the streets around him, his clothes and body were tattered, bloody, and bruised. Yet, he stood tall against the second assault to face him this tenday.


    ¡°You know what they did to my family, Silas!¡± A particularly distraught mother spat a prayer to me in his face. ¡°Are you going to do nothing about it like last time?¡±


    With conviction, tears, and pain flooding his eyes, the one called Silas broke through the crowd to grasp her hands in his. ¡°I swear to you, Shae, that monster will be brought to justice! Even if I have to make a deal with a devil. It will be so!¡±


    ¡°We should¡¯ve never left the territories!¡± Another voice exclaimed another prayer. ¡°Why did I ever choose to follow you!?!¡±


    Though he wanted to remind him, everyone, that they had a choice in coming here just as he did. Silas turned to the man in question and rested a gentle hand atop his shoulder. ¡°We knew the road ahead of us would be hard, Harold. We will persevere, rebuild, and create far better lives for ourselves than the ones we left behind.¡±


    Throughout that exchange and the following minutes after, the captain of the town guard silently watched from behind his mayor. He said nothing, for it was not his place. His job was to protect. He and his troops had done that, if barely. Thus he should have been assisting in fire fighting and the long list of other priorities instead of staring at the Mayor like a lost child. Following him wherever he went. When Mayor Silas moved to douse fires, Rodin followed. When citizens were consoled, Rodin was there. And he didn¡¯t speak nor take initiative until they were on their way to the relatively untouched town hall at the city center.


    ¡°They don¡¯t call you Mayor. They spit in your face. Express dissent. And you just take it. Why?¡±


    Silas took a moment to reflect. Not on his answer, but by the curiously neutral tone expressed by his guard. It was an exchange akin to a student addressing their teacher, Mayor Silas assumed, then compartmentalized the note before replying with his own question. ¡°If I can''t or won''t shoulder their pain and anger, Rodin, who will?¡±


    Sighing, he stopped to turn and gaze upon the little hamlet they¡¯d created. At the people aimlessly wandering the streets, throwing hateful glares at both the Mayor and the woodline beyond.


    ¡®How could Mayor Silas swear upon justice when his town guard- when I wasn¡¯t even strong enough to eliminate the threat?¡¯ Rodin silently wondered- prayed as he followed the Mayor¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°Were you serious?¡± Rodin eventually asked. ¡°Would you truly sell your soul to protect a place with no history?¡±


    With a gentle smile, Mayor Silas turned to Rodin. Radiating a warmth and conviction in his eyes that negated the need for words; nevertheless, he went ahead and said what was on his mind. ¡°I¡¯ve already given my wealth, status, and now a bit of my body, Rodin. My soul is all I have left to give to these people.¡±


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Rodin wanted to say many things, at that moment. Conversely, Mayor Silas wished to say nothing more.


    In the following seconds, both of their wishes came true.


    A burning blue light appeared from the north, bathing the land in its heavenly glow as it ascended to the clouds like a divine messenger. And one by one, the mourning wanderers in the streets turned their heads to the source, and so too did Rodin.


    ¡°What in the Seventeen Hells is that?¡±


    Ignoring both Rodin¡¯s question and the blinding curtain of light, Mayor Silas turned his gaze about the horrified, fearful gazes of his herd and had an epiphany.


    ''We are so different from one another. But... perhaps that''s the reason you all chose to follow me. Where you are humbled or horrified by such a sight, I am only hopeful.''


    ***


    The Marulean God of Anarchy.


    ***


    I could see him like I could see so many others of his kind. A filthy teenager who knows well the anarchy of the realms. Such anarchy gave him a life of despair. It gave him a mind of hate. But most of all, it gave him strength in both spirit and body. And so, here he was. Standing off to the side of a particularly busy street within a particularly prosperous empire, clenching his bruised fists as he stared at the magnificent structure in the distance. Like the rest of his body, his face was matted with dirt and grime. His body was riddled with scars that were hardly contained by the tattered rags strewn over him. The marks of a slave made free by a magical affinity. An all too common sight in a city as vast as this.


    Even in a posh and lavish district such as the one he found himself in, the citizenry and city guard paid no him mind. He was utterly invisible to the crowd, as vermin was, despite the blatant darkness swelling within him. Such was the madness of society. From an outsider''s perspective- from my perspective, it was a play that¡¯d been performed thousands of times over the course of this vast Empire''s history.


    From the child¡¯s perspective, however, his situation was entirely unique. He was a slave. Now, he had power. And while he was aware of the privilege that came with that power, he refused to break bread with hands that once broke his body. Thus he had two opportunities. Both of those paths lie before him, in that very castle built upon a spire. The place of his miserable beginning. Regardless of what path he took, it would serve as the end of his miserable existence. And either his inexistence would continue, or his life would begin anew.


    One path, he could pursue now. The other, a bit in the future.


    Having decided upon his answer, he closed his eyes to take a deep breath before stepping down his chosen path. But as his lungs emptied and his eyes opened, the vengeful child felt his fists relax. His eyes grew wider. His legs grew weaker, eventually stopping him in place and forcing him to his knees. For a few seconds, he forgot to even breathe- he and countless others around him, all down on their knees, reaching for any nearby surface for support while the image of lightning-filled sky burned deep in their eyes.


    Then came the sound of true power. Rolling out like a bell toiled for the rebels of this realm. A sign or signal that read: ''Not Yet.''


    ***


    The Marulean Goddess of Nature.


    ***


    The true nature of humanity was always a debate for both gods and humans and humans and the other denizens of Maru, the Dwarves, and the Halflings. Some were benevolent. Some, malevolent. Yet the answer was the same as nature itself- so clear it often went unseen. The nature of humanity was change itself. One had to know how terrible they were in order to know how great they had become. Similarly, one had to know how great they were to understand how terrible they had been. And so it was, my children were on the brink of change. And yet they didn''t even know it.


    But more than just them. All of Maru was on the brink of change. From the smallest grain of sand to the longest-reigning family in the realm.


    Such was inevitable. No matter how they tried to avoid it.


    ¡°Yes, Mother.¡±


    ¡°And remember, you come from the finest lineage on the Mortal Plane. Make sure everyone gives you the respect you deserve. Even if you have to force them to.¡±


    ¡°I will, Mother.¡±


    The mother in question was an esteemed woman of regal stature. A proper lady who held so much knowledge, wealth, and power that her robes, crown, and jewelry appeared to be meager trinkets in the face of her wisened features, studious stare, and demanding presence. All who saw her knew her as the Empress of the largest landmass on Maru. The ruler of the oldest Marulean Empire. But not so much as the finest lineage of humans to come after me.


    In the face of her son, however, Empress Epeth was as normal as anyone else.


    ¡°Honestly, Winston.¡± She heaved. ¡°Are you certain of becoming an adventurer? It''s rough and dangerous out there. You¡¯ll be without the many serving girls and slaves you have here at the very least.¡±


    For the first time since she entered his room, Winston turned his eyes away from the window- away from his homeland, his birthright, to give his mother the gentlest smile he could muster. ¡°I¡¯m positive, Mother.¡± So saying, Winston paused to turn back to the window. First to continue committing as much as his homeland to memory. Second, to snicker at the dirty rat standing outside the grounds like he''d been doing all day.


    With those images fresh in his mind, Winston faced his mother with a genuine smile and wrapped her in his embrace. ¡°After all, I can just get new ones while I''m there.¡±


    After pulling each other away, Winston saw pride and all the other positive emotions blooming in his mother¡¯s eyes. Naturally, it was a sight that caused similar feelings to rise within him. So when he saw his mother¡¯s face slowly shift from surprise, to disbelief, and to horror, Winston¡¯s emotions were swept along a similar trend. Only, his were compounded by the gut-wrenching fear of the unknown.


    A small cascade of dust falling on his shoulder brought his thoughts under control. Instinctively, Winston turned back to the window, only for time to seem to slow to a metal sloth¡¯s pace.


    A quarter through his turn and the unprotected windows began rattling, followed by the chalices, tables, and other pieces of furniture until the castle itself was shaking atop its foundation. As a result of either the shock or the sheer intensity of the blast, Winston became aware of the deafening roar only after it¡¯d passed. When he vainly called out to his mother, only to hear a distant scream in his discombobulated mind resounding in his own voice.


    Regal as ever, his mother, on the other hand, simply sneered at the light flickering behind her son, sucking her teeth at the showoffs up north. Those Devils of the Night who call themselves Cole. Thus with her mood now soured, she gave her recovering son the warmest smile she could muster as she turned to leave.


    But then the windows shattered.


    ***


    The Elven Goddess of Magic.


    ***


    <<What do you think the Champion looks like?>>


    The one they called Laele ignored her sister''s inquiry in favor of continuing the inspection of a certain army from afar. So much was she like her mother. And yet so different was she from what her mother had become.


    They had been marching for days. Drow, my kind, and the elves of our brother. Though our relationship wasn''t as well off as those Marulean Gods, they were much better than the Gods of the other realms, either being too solitary, chaotic, or... abrasive, in nature. Though the one of us who affiliated with such a thing as chaos was the reason those called drow were down there, in the Darkworld of Maru.


    Of course, I was the reason my elves were down there as well. Albeit for both dissimilar and similar reasons. Their tasks; however interpreted they were, was what brought them here. What came after, was our tasks. For my children, they knew the Champion to be my mirror. Nothing more. Or if anything, the one who would bring about a new era of prominence. Of Arcana. Of Champions.


    The others... a bridge between civilization and nature, perhaps. The next stage in evolution. Ruler of the World Seas. Emperor of the skies. Things and titles that may have been right and wrong all the same. And so, they were here¡ªour children. Marching through the Marulean Darkworld at paces humans wouldn''t believe until they halted tens of thousands of kilometers beneath Ulai. Permanent fortifications were erected. Shifts of all types were established. Ones to patrol the tunnels. More to clear the corruptive radiation present in the realm. Yet more to scry upon the surface above. Yet more to pray. Or in our sister''s case, to scheme.


    Such was the case with Laele and the question she''d been asked. In regards to Telin and his champion, all elves were on the same page. That said, Laele couldn¡¯t exactly blame her for being curious. Her naivety was a different story.


    <


    > She jeered. <<Or like me. Born from the same accursedly blessed womb. As a male.>>


    For the first time in perhaps hours, Yassra removed her sights from my children and set them upon her sister. Hiding her contempt behind a masterfully woven mask of submissive expression. Faux as it was, Laele saw right through it but chose to do nothing at that moment. For it would do no good to prove stereotypes true to their distant cousins. So instead, she turned her gaze to the klutzy regiment while Yassra continued. <It is comical, is it not?>> She sneered. <<They can hardly see. Yet from the height of their branches, they assume our sight is as limited as theirs. They make no attempt to hide their actions as a result.>>


    <<Humorous, yes. But far from interesting.>> Laele concurred with a curt nod. <<What interests me more is the Champion''s nature. His attributes. And most of all, his location.>>


    <<Finding him should serve an easy task at least. All we need to do is find a long-eared child of the Nox with arcana.>> Yassra said. <<His nature, his magical attributes, and his location are another matter entirely. And Eved, most high, has her lips sealed.>>


    <<Nor can we ask her.>> Laele added. <<For Eved is no longer favored by our Demon Queen Arachnid. Nor will she ever be again.>>


    And so it was for all the elves waiting in the dark to witness the Champion''s ascension in that realm, as it had been ordained long ago. But one thing I''ve seen from the shoulder of my champion was the ripples he sent out into the weave. These things, set in stone since the dawn of ages, would not turn out as they had been foretold. And yet, they would all the same.


    Such a notion was punctuated by a sudden quake that reverberated all the way to that world of dark, bringing to mind the image of a great giant far above, striking the ground with a mountainous hammer.


    And with a half-mocking sneer, Laele turned to her sister¡¯s seemingly worried frame. <


    >


    <<I doubt even his magic could reach this far, Matron.>> Yassra huffed. Yet Laele was rightfully convinced.


    <<It seems you have forgotten who truly owns this world of darkness.>>


    ***


    The Marulean God of Lore.


    ***


    At the edge of the clouds in a realm beyond my own, an inhumanly horned man with greenish-red skin stood on the precipice of a terrace. Even as a suited human approached from his rear, the towering figure remained statuesquely still as his gaze held north.


    ¡°To see you outside during a graduation.¡± The woman chortled in disbelief. ¡°It¡¯s unlike you, Headmaster.¡±


    With his eyes still locked to the north, the ancient Headmaster pointed a clawed finger ahead. To a cascade of blue light flickering through the fog that persisted beyond the shores of their vast and yet tiny peninsula. Like a star blinking in the ever-present night, it sent a message to even here, reminding him of his second beginning. ¡°Even those most obscure things, ordained in the ancient past, must be made bear come the fated time.¡± He murmured.


    After searching for a full second, the woman''s silver eyes widened to the brims of possibility. ¡°Indeed.¡± She gasped in awed disbelief. ¡°But, are those ''things'' good or bad? That¡¯s the question, Sir.¡±


    ¡°Any change that is good for one is troublesome for another.¡± The headmaster sagely answered.


    To which Mal only shrugged ¡°At any rate, this new batch of students should prove to be quite interesting. From what we¡¯ve seen so far, they¡¯re the most diverse class yet. We''ve even got a Djinni. After hearing from the Necro King and seeing that.¡± She nodded to the fading lights beyond. ¡°I¡¯d say the Maruleans will be the center of attention this year.¡±


    ¡°The Necro King?¡± The headmaster slowly turned to his assistant.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t heard?¡± She softly recoiled. ¡°He all but guaranteed his great-grandson would be in attendance this year.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± The headmaster sagely nodded to himself. "So, the Nox has finally returned to this here Tree?¡±


    ¡°Nox?¡± The silver-haired woman shook her head in bemusement. ¡°No, Sir. The heir to the Cole House of Odissi.¡±


    ¡®Oh, how times change.¡¯ The headmaster silently wallowed. ¡®How the young are raised ignorant, leaving tales of legends lost to time.¡¯ He let out a great sigh that seemed to cause similar groans in the floor beneath him. And he muttered. ¡°How sad.¡±


    To which Mal only shrugged. ¡°Very, Sir. I¡¯ll see you inside.¡±


    "Yes." He nodded, thinking back to a time long past while the echoes of one with the same title as he played back in his mind. ''Void and Death. Death, dark, and dark; Void, beckons the end.''

 58 - Talk of the Town

    Magus Everandus ''Necro King'' Cole.


    ***


    ¡°Honestly, I still can¡¯t believe it. Your great-grandson is a monster.¡±


    ¡°Give it a rest, Kirk.¡± I groaned. ¡°Why do you think I asked you to drop anchor way out here?¡±


    ¡°To get away from the guild officials and nobles?¡± Kirk jeered, rattling his jaw as he always did. ¡°I¡¯ve never known you to dismiss praise for your bloodline.¡±


    I held my distant stare ahead while his words echoed in my mind. This place, Deap Ridge had changed many times since its inception. It had grown from a single spire of iron and igneous rock sprouted from the sea to an expanse that blotted out the rising sun. Like the lands themselves, the denizens of this island have changed over the centuries. The group of warriors in our guild became noble families. Those in theirs became esteemed and wealthy commoners. Their descendants grew to become prominent merchants, artisans, and politicians. Now, there was an Empire that was mighty in all the ways except the one that created it.


    I took a swig of air and promptly held it in my stagnant lungs to gather my nostalgia and unease and exhaled them both in an exaggerated plume. Then turned my gaze to the minutely saturated royal dockyard on approach as I recounted what I¡¯d felt and seen over the course of the last week. And then to Kirk¡¯s robed, cloth-wrapped figure to spur the memories of the few instances in which I witnessed true power.


    ¡°It¡¯s clear they¡¯re the same.¡± I then muttered aloud.


    The Captain of my little ship said nothing, at first. To Kirk, duty was and always would be his first priority. Like he¡¯d done many times over the ages, he raised a putrescent hand at the deckhands below to pass off a laundry list of wordless orders before turning his mummified visage to me. Contrary to his appearance, however, Kirk¡¯s voice was smoother than silk and was rounded out by an accent that no longer existed among the living; nevertheless, he preferred to use the link between us to communicate for both trivial and serious matters alike. Such as this case.


    ¡°Never would I have foreseen a human possessing such pure mana. I daresay his necro army will be far greater than yours.¡±


    ¡°That was a given from the start.¡± I despairingly chortled. ¡°Now, however, his spells will be in a league of their own.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll be seen as a living god.¡± Kirk sighed in admiration.


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Or, as disaster incarnate.¡±


    ---


    After a few more words with Kirk, I went on ahead to the Summit to grow immediately annoyed by the uncountable bows and kneels gracing my presence. Adding to my frustration was the heated debates regarding the large lightning storm the other day. From commoners to the guild officials to the noble families themselves; all but a few individuals or groups made theory after theory regarding the identity of the caster. Serving as a small source of amusement, in this torturous environment. Though, even that was buried by the fact that I was obligated to be here in the flesh. Sitting by Jamettus¡¯ side at the head of this great, elliptical table. Lingering and loitering while he made conversation with the many bigwigs of the Empire and beyond until I heard a solid thump come from the seat next to me.


    Upon turning and seeing an all-too-familiar face, I couldn¡¯t help but smile and spread my arms in a welcoming manner as I bellowed, ¡°Grandmaster Vilignin!¡± as loud as possible. ¡°What a surprise to see you here!¡±


    Visibly vexed, the Amazonian gave me an odious side-eye before huffing. ¡°Surprised!¡± Then canted her head to face me. ¡°To see me. Here. At the assessment. Don¡¯t kid yourself. Sir.¡± She begrudgingly added to the end.


    ¡°Everyone¡¯s excited to see the new rotation of awakened, Sir.¡± One of her subordinates respectfully added as he seated himself beside her. ¡°After the¡­ incident.¡± He smirked after his pause. ¡°I must say I am as well.¡±


    ¡°I am sure you are glad to hear my great-grandson has expressed interest in creating his own guild to fight in Ulai.¡± I guffawed. To which she turned back to me with glowing eyes before quickly subduing the beast inside her.


    But I had seen it all.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I nodded. ¡°Ever since he was a young boy, it was his only ambition.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± The Grandmaster dismissively laughed in the face of my claim. ¡°That right is reserved for the top students of his class.¡±


    ¡°Then there should be no problems.¡± I amiably smiled, spreading my hands in good faith. Then leaned forward in an admonitory manner. ¡°Unless you underestimate him?¡±


    ¡°I underestimate no one.¡± She bluntly replied. ¡°Nor do I overestimate anyone. Grand Duke Amun of Odissi will be thoroughly assessed just like everyone else.¡±


    ¡°Excepting the practical exam, of course,¡± Jamettus added. ¡°In that case, what did you have in mind?¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I turned, suddenly intrigued. ¡°Do tell.¡±


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°You see, Sir.¡± She whispered after a long pause. ¡°We¡¯re unsure if we have the capability to properly test some of the candidates. In that regard, I humbly ask that the great Necro King would assist us.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I quickly spat. ¡°And I¡¯m not healing for you either.¡±


    Though her eyes said much, Grandmaster Vilignin herself only nodded in reluctant silence. Eliciting a long, awkward moment for the other attendees.


    ¡°As far as I understand.¡± Jamettus resumed the dialog with a recollective sigh. ¡°Amun and his vassals are far too familiar with the Necro Army. Using one of them in the practical exam would fail to yield the results you seek, Grandmaster. I, however, may be able to assist you in that regard.¡±


    ¡°It would be greatly appreciated, Sir.¡± She sternly bowed her neck a single degree. ¡°And you can rest assured that the Guild is covered in the healing department.¡±


    From there, the topics of discussion transitioned from the specifics to the generalities. As we¡¯d done countless times before, we finalized the slew of administrative work needed for a ceremony of this scale to go smoothly. While I mostly watched and listened, a few of Vilignin¡¯s subordinates took turns briefing each other and ourselves on the metrics of the assessment and how they differed from last year¡¯s ceremony. In turn, Jamettus verified or sometimes even changed the locale of where and when each event would take place, where the spectators would be seated, and when the break periods would be.


    Come sunrise, all that silly mess had been assorted and done with. So, while the candidates were mentally preparing themselves over breakfast, I was finally able to attend to the important matters. The moment the meeting was adjourned, I dropped into the Shadow Realm before anyone could call behind me and promptly swam up to the upper reaches of the castle to emerge in the sacred place that existed between us Magus¡¯.


    It was a crow¡¯s nest. A lookout tower. An indiscriminate peak on the tallest spire around the Cast Iron Summit. A simple cross-shaped corridor with four balconies placed at the end of each short walkway. It was insignificantly small in size and indescribably vast in terms of sentimentality. In that sense, this place was larger than the Mortal Plane itself.


    Though, it wouldn¡¯t last nearly as long.


    After a few moments, Jamettus rose from the lower levels and gently placed himself on the terrace. Then placed a hand on my shoulder as he stepped down from the railing. A simple act that formed a conduit that channeled his rhythmic and ragged heaving into my senses. Drowning out the smoldering heat radiating from his heart continuing its long and steady burn.


    It took a lot to snuff out the images arising from such a feeling. Though, much to my dismay, those feelings were replaced with more memories. Memories from far-off lands and ancient times.


    ¡°I envy you sometimes, old friend.¡± Jamettus sighed and held me out at arm''s length. ¡°Even for the evolved- or at least for those like us, time is unyielding. Except for you.¡±


    ¡°Bah!¡± I casually waved such comments aside and gave him a pat on the shoulder. ¡°I was an old man long before I died, Jamettus. You were there, after all.¡± I chuckled.


    ¡°That I was.¡± He released his grip with a sigh and stepped over to gaze upon the blue-green sheen illuminating the western horizon. Wherein he lightheartedly shook his head, almost in disbelief. ¡°Do you remember the first time we stood here?¡±


    ¡°How could I forget!?¡± I bellowed. ¡°I¡¯ve only seen you so proud so many times! I knew not if you were crazy or serious at the time! Who uses an iron pillar as a fort?¡±


    ¡°Yet you tried to remain as sly and indifferent as always.¡± He snickered, attempting to mock me. ¡°A forward base is fine. But, is it not too conspicuous? Why make it so tall?'' You asked.¡± Jamettus rolled back in hearty laughter.


    As did I, naturally. ¡°So that it can withstand the test of time, you declared.¡±


    We spent the next few minutes; or hour, laughing and reminiscing over the centuries-long friendship Jamettus and I have shared until the conversations naturally died down to a companionable silence. Though, deep down inside it pained me to see his body in slow decline. A part of me wanted to offer to him the same contingency I¡¯d offered to the countless others who¡¯d fallen by our sides. Such a process would save my dear friend from a slow, natural decline. But as his friend- as his brother, I could not strip him of the rest he surely deserved.


    Not that he would have accepted the offer anyway.


    And so, I silently stood beside him as he gazed upon the blue-tainted night until he decided to speak.


    ¡°This world of ours is changing, old friend.¡± He stated in an ominously serious tone. ¡°These lands- these people, are not eternal constructs like death and darkness. They are like iron volcanoes, Ev. They erupt. They rust. They erode. On a regular basis, people and society change.¡±


    I simply nodded and stayed silent. Though I agreed with everything that was said, I held my tongue and waited for my friend to continue. He seemed to shed the robes and crown and greatness that made him an Emperor as the breath of a heavy sigh was spent. Leaving before me, a sight I bore witness to many times as a young boy: A husk of withering life.


    Though, this husk was far different than any other. Jamettus Deapou was my first, oldest, and best friend. A legendary warrior who has faced the worst the Mortal Plane had to offer and emerged victorious each and every time. As such, my life was his; his was mine.


    ¡°I am sure you are aware.¡± He distantly whispered. ¡°The strong ones we bore witness to have died out from the times. Humanity has become weak while the invaders we share this realm with grow stronger by the day.¡± He sneered, huffing hot, mana-infused air from his nostrils. ¡°I am sure you feel it.¡± He turned to me.


    ¡°Mhmm.¡± I grimly nodded as I felt around for the abundant energy. Slowly. Surely. Something was rising in the worlds below. Just like before.


    ¡°The paradigm is due to shift, Ev.¡± Jamettus faced me with a stern, resolute gaze. ¡°I fear Maru may not survive this round.¡±


    ¡°There may be a saving grace.¡± I finally said. Causing Jamettus to inquisitively turn.


    ¡°Amun.¡± He neutrally stated, yet his tone was belied by the scrutinizing heat of his eyes. ¡°It is admirable that your great-grandson has noble intentions. And he is indeed powerful. But.¡± He sighed. ¡°Are you sure you are not placing too much faith in him on account of him sharing your blood?¡±


    ¡°Not at all.¡± I amiably shook my head. ¡°On the contrary, I am but one of two beings who are aware of his true nature. I can see his soul, Jamettus. The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew the extent of his power. But if my word is not enough, test him. Thoroughly. I will give you as many souls as you need.¡±


    ¡°Are you not afraid he will break?¡± Jamettus guffawed in his teasing manner.


    ¡°Well.¡± I shrugged. ¡°You will find out soon enough. Besides.¡± I waved the topic aside. With the bounty the association brought in, everyone is expected to be broken. Though I cannot say I agree with their measures.¡±


    ¡°Right, you are then.¡± Jamettus chuckled. ¡°I will extensively test Amun¡¯s abilities to see if he is capable of what you claim. Naturally, however.¡± He devilishly grinned. ¡°Each of the others will have to be similarly tested.¡±

 59 - PT

    Amun.


    ***


    Once again, we were summoned at the brink of dawn by a pounding rain of hammers and bangs on the door of our communal area. After ripping the door open, I was surprised to see one of the imperial servants standing idly by the door. Denoted by the black-on-red plumed dress shirt and slacks that they all wore. He promptly guarded us to the hub of the guest caldera for a hearty breakfast in anxious silence before we were once again ushered out the door to the caldera lying adjacent to our wing and the royal castle; specifically to a small, walled-off court, where the Emperor, Grandpa Lich, Father, and 15 individuals dressed in wizard robes or various styles of armor were spread out around the ring of a coliseum-like structure.


    ¡°Welcome, and congratulations on taking the first step in becoming initiates.¡± Emperor Deapou boomed above the cheer of the stands as the dozen or so of us stepped onto the floor.


    Taking my bearings as we made our way to the center reminded me of Corvus Tower¡¯s dungeon. It was a vast ring sitting below a set of U-shaped bleachers, topped with a few sky boxes for the big wigs. Only, this place was completely open to the air and gave unbridled views of the eastern ocean beyond.


    ¡°Good Morning! And congratulations on officially becoming Initiates!¡± Declared a rather tall woman stepping before us. She had olive skin with straight black hair that hung loosely down to her waist and held a stone-faced gaze at the lot of us that matched the tempered sternness of her voice. ¡° I am Grandmaster Mage, Gysil Vilignin. I will be the overseer of what is colloquially known as the Assessment.


    ¡°The Initiate Quality Assessment is an unforgettable moment for any budding youth in possession of an affinity core.¡± She continued after a short and thunderous round of applause. ¡°With the passing of this event, you all will be free to accept official requests from the denizens of Maru; or, you can try to join any guild or military that piques your interest. If neither of those favors you, you can live as you wish. As an Initiate, you are legally unbound to any nation or entity. You will be granted a level of individual sovereignty, you will gain the right to claim land, so long as it is unoccupied, and you will hold the rights to any hostile creatures you slay. The choice of what you become is ultimately yours.¡± She amiably smiled for a second. Only for it to fade in the very next. ¡°Though, there is much you have to accomplish before you gain those rights.


    ¡°The first item on our agenda is the reading of your wells.¡± She gestured behind her to a small gazebo made to a shelter crystal ball from the sunlight. ¡°After that, the true Assessment begins. You will be tested in eight subjects: Intelligence. Strength. Constitution. Agility. Dexterity. Elemental Mastery. Magical Prowess. And Combat Ability. Your performance in each subject will be represented as a number between one and fifty, making for a maximum of four hundred points.


    ¡°A score of one through nine is considered weaker than the average human.¡± She explained. ¡°Ten through nineteen is considered average for someone of your size and weight class. Twenty through twenty-nine is within the realm of a proper athlete. Thirty through thirty-nine is the peak of human potential, and forty through forty-nine is within the realm of the supernatural. Lastly, a score of fifty means that we were unable to gauge your proficiency in that task using our methods.


    ¡°At the conclusion of the Assessment, your scores will be tallied to determine your Quality as an Initiate. Copper, Silver, Gold, or Platinum. Your Quality is something you will carry for life. At certain points in your career, you will gain the opportunity to change your Quality by taking assessments sponsored by pre-approved entities. As of now, you only need to know that it is the primary factor in determining your acceptance to any guild or military in Maru. And naturally, that includes the Academy as well.¡± She paused to look in my direction before continuing. ¡°Now then, let us begin.¡±


    I gave her a close inspection as she stepped to the side to allow what I assumed was her subordinate to take center stage. While she felt, looked, and walked the part of a warrior, her dress was something else entirely. A crude fur tunic covered her top and a lion cloth covered the front and back of her waist, ending in jade-adorned chevrons that left much of her trunk-like thighs exposed. Other than that, there was a large belt buckle with an insignia that I was sure represented her unit. Looking at it, I knew there¡¯d be a lot left to be desired if I were the one wearing it. On her, however, it seemed to look as natural as the hair on her head.


    The man who replaced her had similarly toned skin with a low-cut fade and wire-framed glasses that seemed to magnetize his eyes onto what appeared to be a small metal tablet. Up until he stood before the crystal, at least. Where he promptly looked at us and bowed without further delay. ¡°My name is Alan Law. A Ranked Mage with the Deapou Division of the Marulean Guild Association. I will be reading your Mana Wells today. Once your name is called, come forth, place your hand on the crystal, and return to your seat after I read the numbers.¡±


    During his gesture behind him, we all studied the apparatus we¡¯d soon be interacting with. While the crystal ball wasn¡¯t interesting in itself, what caught our eyes was the thermometer-like meter rising behind it. Etched with a series of numbers and letters along the side.


    ¡°Abulot Uplos!¡±


    The Prince seemed taken aback for a reason that I could only guess and consequently laugh at before he stood before the crystal and impatiently placed his hand on it. While I felt or saw no mana flowing into or out of the orb, the crystal mimicked the contents of his Well all the same. Before our eyes, the sphere filled with faceted crystalline energy, seemingly forcing the energy two-sixths of the way to the top of the gauge.


    ¡°Eighth-Grade Diamond! Pores: naught point three-two!¡± Law declared. causing a sudden burst of applause to erupt from above. Craning my neck upwards, I saw the many silhouettes of nobles and military officials looking down at the event with the sun against their faces. Even without my newfound abilities, I would¡¯ve been able to see the expectant gazes and hear their inquiries as they turned side-to-side to discuss the possibilities of recruiting the individuals scattered below them.


    Though I had never been one to show off and I certainly had no interest in following anyone but myself, I was curious as to what the full of extent of my new powers were. Sure, the Lightning Dragon was a good gauge of my magical output. But I¡¯ve had no way of knowing exactly how much my potential had grown since I forcefully expanded it. I¡¯ve managed to learn a bit about the effects of arcana, but I was sure that I had hardly scratched the surface in that endeavor. So, naturally, the prospects of changing all that caused a bit of giddy excitement to swell within me.


    An excitement that I just couldn¡¯t hide.


    ¡°Amun of Odissi!¡± The Ranked Mage announced.


    Dismissing my thoughts, I walked up to the crystal and placed my hand on the cold surface. I felt a slight disturbance of mana but there was nothing notable about the experience. Save the sphere acting like a mirror that displayed the volatile contents of my mana well before it cascaded up the tube like a model rocket taking flight. Rising up and up until it nearly rose to the top.


    ¡°A- Arcana!?!¡± He stammered under his breath. Then gathered his composure in the very next moment to turn to the crowd and shout. ¡°Eighteenth-Grade Arcana! Pores: naught point nine-four!¡±


    As expected, the contents of my well drove the crowd mad. Mostly due to ignorance. But even the mages from the association appeared to be just as rattled by what they just heard. I even heard an all-too-familiar laugh boisterously bellowing in the background. However, I paid little mind to either of those things. Instead, my mental gears were churning to study the obviously elven tech in my Eternal Eye. The energy halted just a few ticks from the top. Implying that either humanity was unable to tailor the construct further, they had no need to, or there was a high enough population of half-elves to warrant a scale that high. Regardless, arcana wasn¡¯t exactly unseen or unheard of amongst humans, based on Law¡¯s reaction.


    ¡®Interesting.¡¯


    Compartmentalizing the data, I spun on my heels and took another glance at the crowd as I made my way back to my seat. For the most part, they were shocked into a state of near-silence. Reduced to hushed conversations and curious glances thrown at Grandpa Lich and the Emperor.


    ¡°Edward Pascal!¡± Law shouted soon after.


    As was his character, Ed somewhat timidly waddled to the stage. Although he didn¡¯t look the part, Ed¡¯s posture and gait had always reminded me of a pangolin. It was a visage I noticed shortly after our introduction and had forever stuck with me. His overthinking nature only seemed to add to such thoughts.


    ¡°Ninth-Grade Ice! Pores: naught point six-three!¡± Law declared.


    Adding onto his comical gait was a prideful smile that pried his face in two. Despite his forced expansion, Ed¡¯s reaction to his reading gave me the underlying impression that he was worried that he¡¯d be deemed weak or something.


    Preposterous.


    ¡°Giorno Nojo.¡±


    Despite them not awakening any affinities today, Giorno and Letta were still born with cores and thus were obligated to be assessed. With his usual swagger, Giorno waltzed forward to elegantly place his hand on the crystal. After the transfer of energy, he adjusted his coat as he turned away to look at his nails with feinted disinterest, until Law shouted, ¡°Eight-Grade Ice Pores: naught point five-five!¡± At which time, he waltzed back to his place in much the same manner; throwing a strangely off-putting smile to the stands above.


    It took almost all I had in me to not laugh once I realized what he was doing. Thankfully, my labored snickers were covered up by Law shouting, ¡°Jaimess Corey!¡±


    As he did with almost everything, Jaimess went through the motions with the least amount of effort possible and stepped under the gazebo in only a few strides, placed his hand on the sphere, and strode back before the Mage could even shout. ¡°Tenth-Grade Ice! Pores: naught point six-eight!¡± Triggering another obligatory round of applause before Law called, ¡°Jonet Fischer!¡± to the stand.


    She did much the same as Jaimess, albeit at a casually slower pace as if she were unhurried in the slightest. She didn¡¯t even seem to care as the Mage turned to her and yelled, ¡°Twelfth-Grade Ice! Pores: naught point seven!¡± in her face. Or at the crowd¡¯s eruption of cheer.


    ¡°Letta Sinclare!¡±


    Naturally, Letta bounced up to the stands with her perpetually warm smile on full display. Much to my amusement, however, she did much the same as Giorno and turned to the crowd to adjust her bun. Flashing the spectators with the dazzling jewels wrapped around her wrist until Law called, ¡°Eleventh-Grade Ice! Pores: naught point five-seven!¡± giving her the cue to return to her seat, strutting away like a runway model.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ¡°Lucia Pike!¡± Law called next.


    Lucia¡¯s somewhat lanky arms dramatically swayed from side to side as she excitedly approached and placed her hand on the sphere.


    ¡°Twelfth-Grade Ice! Pores: naught point seven-nine!¡± The Mage subsequently announced, then continued without waiting for the habitual response. ¡°Maurice Harris!¡±


    The Prince¡¯s hair-wielding vassal hurriedly came forth next and seemed relieved when Law shouted. ¡°Third-Grade Ice! Pores: naught point three-three!¡±


    Despite the low size of his well and the lower densities of a few others, the crowd had been unrelenting in their support. Never ceasing in their debates and conjectures until Law yelled. ¡°Roheisa Deapou!¡± Triggering a second stretch of silence from the crowd.


    She seemed nervous, taking the stand. And I couldn¡¯t blame her. Doing anything with that many pairs of eyes on you; drilling their expectations into you for so long, would be enough to drive anyone over the edge. Especially someone with only fifteen years of life experience. It took me decades of living and suffering to frankly stop giving a shit what people thought or expected of me. And it took me even longer to learn that it was a lesson not everyone was capable of completing.


    ¡°Twelfth Grade Diamond! Pores: naught point eight-one!¡± despite her worries, the crowd seemed to erupt in cheer and excitement at the announcement. Even her father had a grin that split his face in two. Though there was also a hint of vacancy in his gaze akin to the infamous thousand-yard stare. Or the look of someone lost in thoughts about something greater. Something unsaid that existed only as an abstract concept within their mind, or else worries about what has already come; or what has yet to come. A gaze that was compounded by the subtle feeling looming around his massive frame.


    It was something I could have recognized at a single glance. Something I could sense like apple pie cooling on the windowsill. And judging from Grandpa Lich''ss demeanor, he sensed it too. But¡­ ¡®Are you aware of it?¡¯ I turned to the prideful Princess. ¡®Is your unyielding enthusiasm a cry for help, or is it your natural disposition?¡¯


    ¡°Rosso DaVinci!¡±


    Tossing such thoughts aside, I turned to see Rosso, the Princess¡¯s unfavored vassal, walking up to the stand in much the same way his assumed sister had. And hurriedly walked back after Law declared, ¡°Eighth-Grade Ice! Pores: naught point two-four!¡± Soon followed by him calling, ¡°Toka Eyer!¡±


    Like the others, the girl with slime magic quickly made her way up to the stand and nearly jumped in excitement when Law yelled. ¡°Sixth-Grade Ice! Pores: naught point five-six!"


    Then, the Mage subtly sighed in relief after having made it through the majority of the list. He even went as far as to grin excitedly as he called the last name up to the stand. ¡°Toril O¡¯Connell!¡±


    Like the others, Toril calmly took to the stand and went through the procedure, only to return to his seat before Law could even call off his reading. It seemed he didn¡¯t really care for the reading at all. Judging from the impatiently placid look on his face, he only wished to start the assessment test already. Much like the rest of us.


    ¡°Eighth Grade Diamond! Pores: naught point seven-nine!¡± Even as the Mage made the declaration and the crowd¡¯s cheers rose to an all-time high, a group of other warriors moved in behind Law to push the stand away into a corridor. Leaving him centered before us, standing with open arms.


    ¡°With this, the reading is complete and the first phase of the assessment will now begin.¡± He bowed. ¡°At this time, we will begin the intelligence assessment. You¡¯ll find that each of you has been paired with a proctor.¡± He gestured to the many warriors standing idly around the yard. ¡°Starting now, you have ninety minutes to follow them and take your written and oral exams.¡±


    With nothing more than a raised brow on Law¡¯s part, we were dismissed to meet the approaching mages halfway in the middle. The one to approach me was a woman of relatively short stature. She was the same height as me, with the same skin and hair as her superior. Only, the latter had been tied up into a messy ponytail. She had a cute face, I had to admit. With large eyes, and a small pointed nose that even had a few freckles on it.


    ¡°I am Staff Sergeant Sicilia Velasco. Amazonian Warrior of the Marulean Guild Association. If you¡¯ll follow me, we¡¯ll begin your written exam.¡± She monotonously said in an androgynous voice before turning down a corridor, where she continued her explanation over her shoulder. ¡°Answer each question to the best of your ability. Take your time, but remember you only have ninety minutes to complete both exams. I¡¯ll be asking you a few questions once you¡¯re done.¡±


    After leading me to an innocuous lounge, Velasco suddenly turned to hand me a stack of papers and a strange black ring. ¡°This has anti-magic properties.¡± She waved the ring in my face. ¡°Removal of this ring without my say-so will result in your immediate disqualification from the assessment, postponing your assessment for another year. If you agree to those terms, put on the ring and begin.¡±


    Without saying much, I slipped the ring over my left middle finger and took the papers from her, then trotted off to find a test-worthy environment. Only for something intriguing to happen. My grimoire, materialized out of thin air to place before me a spell I''d been unable to forget.


    [Semi-Permanent Wraith Form: 0:00:00]


    Such a thing was fine by me, if not a massive data point to analyze later. In the meantime, it was exam time. And as one would assume, the written exam was mostly comprised of the usual subjects. Mathematics, literacy, history, and the other general fields of study that existed in this realm. On top of that, however, was a slew of word problems that asked me to explain how I¡¯d see to a number of situations that ranged from finding lost cats to negotiating quite complex hostage situations. Naturally, I went above and beyond in answering the lot of them. An effort that only took fifteen minutes of the total time. And another five to go over some oral questions with a similar focus.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Velasco stood once I finished. ¡°You can rest or whatever in the court.¡±


    The court, in this case, was the vast arena we¡¯d been in before. Or rather, the stone path leading to it. I spent my rest beneath a quiet tree, observing the strange ring I was given. It was of a dull, featureless, and multi-faced material like a matte obsidian. And as advertised, any type of mana I withdrew from my cores was immediately pulled into the ring and absorbed on the spot. What transpired earlier gave me a moment of pause, however, thus I summoned my grimoire and turned to a spell I developed quite a few years back. Usurped Strength. The progression of False Strength. With it, I transitioned from storing and using stolen strength as I needed it to painstakingly adding the stolen vitality to all aspects of my being. Permanently. As of now, I had the strength of an average man. If that strength had been robbed from this ore, however, was my most pertinent question.


    ¡®I suppose we¡¯ll find out eventually.¡¯ I sighed


    The others and their proctors slowly trickled in over the course of the next hour or so. With everyone assembled, Grandmaster Vilignin guided us down a seemingly ambiguous path to the beginning of a long, winding route that¡¯d been marked off on either side by suspended ropes.


    ¡°Now begins the Agility Assessment.¡± She spat with a gesture behind her. ¡°This course is exactly ten kilometers in length and has been sparingly lined with obstacles.¡± She explained. ¡°Each of you will run at your own pace through to the end while navigating any obstacles you come across. You will be given three attempts to navigate each one before moving forward. Each failed attempt will subtract ten seconds from your total time. Skipping any obstacle, leaving the borders, or interfering with one another in any way will result in your immediate disqualification. Law will be standing by at the end. Shout your name to him as you pass the finish line for him to announce and record your time. Once complete, you¡¯ll be given a short rest period before we proceed. If there are no questions, stand behind the line and await the signal.¡±


    In spite of us bounding forth at her words to gather behind a thick band rope, we were released in alphabetical order, with Prince Abulot first. Roughly five minutes later, Velasco spoke into some sort of silver ring before calling for me to start. Then chased behind me, studying me closely as I navigated the course.


    I paid no attention to her in my peripherals. My only focus was on the route ahead, what path I¡¯d take, and my breathing. While I hated running in my past life, one of the benefits of this half-elven body was the natural-born agility and dexterity I had. Not only was aiming bows, crossbows, and even spells second nature, but sprinting, vaulting, and essentially any mild form of parkour required only a few weeks for me to grow accustomed to. In short, this overtly nimble body of mine was almost all that I could''ve asked for. Even its shortcomings could easily be made up for with my sorcery. And the ones that couldn''t had the potential to be bridged with technology.


    The ease of the action I was tasked with meant that I quickly fell into a sort of trance while running, vaulting, and leaping through the caldera designated as a training area until I arrived at the last leg of the course, a slim walkway that lined the outer edge. With the ocean crashing against the rocks hundreds of meters below, the rush of the wind against my face, and my hair dancing around my head and shoulders, the feeling began to transcend into something indescribable. Only for it to die down as I noticed Law waving me down from the looming finish line.


    ¡°Amun!¡± I quickly called.


    ¡°Twenty-four minutes, forty-six seconds!¡± He called back.


    ¡®Wait, what?¡¯ I reeled to a halt to glance down the track.


    Recalling the course in my Eye, it was indeed sparingly lined with obstacles, but they weren¡¯t along the trivial tasks I imposed on the students of Corvus Academy. The first leg held the standard obstacles, low and high walls to be vaulted over, ropes and vines to be climbed, and woven sticks to crawl under. It was there that I passed an already winded Abulot and went on to leap over pitfalls, climb into trees, and even jump between a few branches. Entering the last leg required us to scale a dozen-meter-high rockfall and safely drop down a four-meter ledge on the other side. Considering all that, I found it hard to believe I ran a record time for an un-augmented human on the outside. And, it seemed, so too did most of the mages, guild officials, nobles, and the countless others who took a double take after seeing me emerge from the eastern edge of the arena.


    Ignoring their ensuing exchange, I turned my attention to a hardly winded Velasco, pointing to a carriage that was sitting where the crystal had been earlier. A carriage that¡¯d been filled to the brim with potions galore.


    I took my time to study from afar until the others streamed or limped in in sequence. At which time, Grandmaster Vilignin stole our attention again.


    ¡°These potions will vastly increase the recovery rate of your stamina.¡± She explained, distributing flasks of a deep green liquid that seemed to almost glow. ¡°However.¡± She grimly noted. ¡°You will need to eat a substantial meal before you bed down. Lest you suffer twice the exhaustion on the morrow.¡±


    ¡®Make sense, I suppose.¡¯ I commented to myself, then took a swig. It had an acidic taste, strangely enough. Like a watered-down energy drink, almost. Yet instead of carbonation, it sent scorching fire through my muscle fibers like I injected capsaicin.


    From there, we were given a short break so that the injured could drink healing potions. Then, we continued our agility assessment with a dodging exercise, where we were tasked with dodging a rain of projectiles at an increasing pace until we were struck three times. As I experienced during my run earlier, I quickly became enthralled with the quasi-game of dodgeball we¡¯d been tasked with. In the same order as with Abulot, the mages joined in on adding to projectiles after every few seconds or so. I, on the other hand, laughed at the ease of reading the mana around me and adjusting my body accordingly. As the event continued on for minutes, Grandmaster Vilignin herself was forced to enter the fray alongside her subordinates and hurl the rubber spheres my way with unbelievable power. Yet even she was eventually forced to end the session.


    The dexterity assessment came next- a rather uneventful sequence of events where we were tasked with playing an oversized game of whack-a-mole, acting as a ''goalie'' defending a VIP against projectiles, and placing round pegs into a punched-out sheet within a certain amount of time. My worries about this ring had been snuffed out once we began our strength assessment. In the first event, I was tasked with lifting progressively heavier atlas stones onto a shoulder-high podium. I managed to lift several of them with relative ease until I could lift no more. Wherein Velasco instructed me to swing progressively heavier weapons until I again couldn¡¯t lift them into a stance. Then, she had me punch a spring-loaded target before telling me to carry her as a ¡®casualty¡¯ across the arena


    ¡°The final assessment before our lunch period is for your physical constitution.¡± The Grandmaster proclaimed once everyone had finished and squared up with their proctors in different areas of the arena. ¡°In essence, your constitution is a measure of your pain tolerance, physical health, durability, and resilience. In other words, it is a measure of how much you can be beaten and continue to fight.


    ¡°As such.¡± She deviously grinned. ¡°There is but a single way to test you in this category. So prepare yourselves for combat.¡±

 60 - Phase II

    After we were properly beaten on by the mages, Grandmaster Vilignin instructed us to add some blood to the healing potions distributed to us by her subordinates and take some time to mend ourselves before we broke for lunch. Meanwhile, she gathered her troops around the arena''s entrance with the other bigwigs to discuss the next stages of the assessment.


    Or, that''s what I could gather from my position, at least.


    Despite my fragility as a half-drow, my extensive training with Grandpa Lich gave me an otherworldly pain tolerance. That, alongside my necrotic healing, made me hard to kill as it was; though with the handicap I was given, I was unable to continue the assessment once my legs and arms had been broken. Still, I was certain that I scored well above the average, what with my not crying out in pain. So I took it for what it was.


    Once healed, I joined the others in making our way to the guest caldera. As one would expect, they were all too eager to ask each other about their performances thus far. And naturally, that included the Princess asking me. While I was pleasantly pleased with my performance, I held off on answering her, as my mind was focused on more important matters. Particularly, on the void that opened up within my stomach. The fact that I could smell the food from outside the great hall made it much worse. The sweet smells of fresh fruit were strangely the most mouth-watering to me, at first. Followed by traces of almost every kind of mushroom, steamed vegetable, and the unmistakable smell of roasted meat mixing with hints of ales and meads. The smells only intensified as I drew closer to the threshold and after crossing it, I nearly sprinted to the table.


    It was the same environment and a slight variation of the menu we had on our first arrival, sure. But with my appetite, I may as well have been in heaven. In addition to the aforementioned dishes, my eyes bulged after seeing the platters of steaming crabs and lobster, grilled eel, and nearly a dozen types of fish being carted out by the butlers and maids, all in the monstrously large or in some cases gigantic portions that the ambient mana attributed to the aquatic life of Maru. All coupled with an assortment of rice and bread and a few soups neatly arranged on the tables.


    "What do you think the next phase will be?" Lucia asked Toril as they sat down with their plates.


    I neither listened to nor ignored their hypotheses as I satiated myself in the most civil manner I could afford to. Quite begrudgingly, I might add. All I wanted to do at that moment was to stuff my face to my heart''s delight, but with the royals, nobles, and hundreds of other highly esteemed individuals frolicking about the place, I had to continue this royal facade for just a little bit longer.


    But oh, was I tired of it.


    More than anything, I couldn''t wait to put this part of my new existence behind me. The life of a royal child had its perks, to be sure, but the cons of such a lifestyle were becoming too much for me to bear. It had only been said twice, that I was expected to act a certain way or speak in a specific manner. I''ve had to tip-toe on eggshells when all I ever wanted to do was stomp across the Mortal Plane as I pleased, allowing my brain to soak up whatever data-filled waters my mind came across. I wanted to do what I failed to do in my first life: destroy the culture; or at least remove my people- all people, from it. And now that I could practically see the start line, my patience was growing thin.


    "What do you think, Amun?" The princess nudged my elbow. "And don''t ignore me this time."


    Sneering inside, I quickly recalled the conversation while I set my fork down. "I think Lucia and Jaimess are both right." I sighed. "They''ll ask for demonstrations in both elemental manipulation and in our greater affinities. Perhaps even mana manipulation as well. On top of that, I''m sure they''ll hit us with a few spells to test our magical defense. The real question is, what will the combat assessment consist of?" I grinned. "Will we be fighting each other or the mages? And what will be the rules?"


    "Don''t you mean dueling, Your Grace?" Lucia subtly shook her head in confusion.


    "No." I snorted. "Considering what we''ve already been through, it''d be safe to assume we''ll be fighting to the brink of death."


    "They wouldn''t." The princess gasped in disbelief. "Surely they''d use a golem or an undead of some sort."


    "A golem, perhaps." I shrugged. Then gestured to my vassals. "But me and mine won''t be fighting any undead today. We''ve warred against the Necro Army for four years. And my Great Grandfather''s heart can''t handle losing another giant."


    "I heard about that." The Princess nodded into her meal. "Still, the Necro Army was handicapped when fighting you. They weren''t using magic."


    "The point still stands." I laughed. "I can permanently end my Great Grandfather''s undead. And he''s too selfish to willingly lose more."


    Again, Roheisa nodded her head in acknowledgment of what I said. Only, this time, she seemed to think aloud. As she began rapidly murmuring to her food. "I could understand your point if they have us doing light sparring sessions or duels, as that would be the intensity allowed from using healing potions as insurance. But, our bodies can only drink so many potions before we run out of energy." She leaned into her food a bit more. "Seeing as how they have a shortage of witches, to do anything more would require a powerful healing spell. Or a sacrifice. The only exceptions are if the caster or conduit is undead or was immortal in some other way, or if they possessed light magic. And there''s only one family in existence in possession of light magic."


    ''Make that two.'' I grinned to myself before saying. "Aren''t you forgetting something, Princess?"


    She stopped mid-bite and turned to look at me with curiously wide eyes.


    "My Great Grandfather is a living lich. And I happen to possess the same sorcery."


    "Yes." She nodded again, rolled her eyes, and took a large bite of pasta. Then slowly worked to chew through and swallow the food before contemptuously saying. "A living lich with no absolutely no will to heal others. And you are a necrotic practitioner who can only heal by stealing life from others. So tell me, Amun." She snarkily turned me. "Have you stolen enough life to heal the lot of us?"


    "I have, actually," I smirked. To which she nearly dropped her fork and looked at me with her mouth agape.


    "I was the Tower''s executioner for four years, Princess." I coldly snorted. "I have hundreds of souls stored inside me, all used for different things. But mostly aegis or burning souls." I shrugged, paused, and took a moment to focus on the starfield of souls orbiting my void core. "That said." I turned my focus back to her. "I''m not altruistic enough to work as a healer, and neither is my great Grandfather, apparently. That doesn''t stop them from using my Great-Grandfather as a conduit, however. Or some other type of undead. At least in theory."


    "In theory." She echoed.


    Regardless, I knew full well that with my electromagnetic affinity, I was capable of using light in addition to all other wavelengths of the spectrum. Though I was hesitant about bringing it out in the open. The last thing I needed right now was for people to begin thinking I was divine. That was to come later. Still, that meant that I''d be able to use proper healing magic with no restrictions; which in turn, made it a priority to learn.


    That aside, I was still unsure if I wanted to become a living lich or not. Living for centuries or even eons was always an interesting concept and becoming undead would yield many benefits, but there were also the benefits of living that I had to consider. Which was solely food and drugs. As much of a chore as it was, eating was something I thoroughly enjoyed. Doubly so in this universe. As far as drugs... well, altering the perception is often the only way to find a new perspective, the one needed to find the path to wisdom. As such, even though I often saw Grandpa Lich enjoying the pleasantries of life, I developed a contingency for that very possibility.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I just needed the infrastructure to test my theory.


    After placing that on the back burner, I couldn''t help but begin to think that Telin gave me a few too many ''cheats'' for this life. Even then, however, I couldn''t remain confident that I was the strongest creature in this universe- that vibrant bubble he cradled in his palm. The strongest in Maru, quite possibly but among the natives only. In the entirety of the Mortal Plane, most definitely not.


    ***


    "Hey."


    A familiarly raspy, androgynous voice called about an hour after dismissing myself from lunch.


    "Sergeant Velasco," I said, not even opening my eyes.


    "Take your ring off. It''s time for the next phase." She monotonously stated.


    "Alright." I pulled myself upright with a groan, then proceeded to follow the Staff Sergeant into the courtyard towards the eastern coast.


    She fancied my eye a bit, I had to admit.


    While my ''type'' was indeed someone of Amazonian stature like the Grandmaster, Velasco was surely attractive in her own right. Her voice had a ruggedness in it that inexplicably drew me in. More so, she was clearly a woman who could take care of herself, the most attractive quality one could have, in my eyes. But alas, there was a conflict of interest. Ambiguously gray as they were, I still had morals and principles. So I would have definitely judged her if she were to try and pursue me in an environment such as this. Such unprofessional acts were always red flags.


    "Grand Duke Amun of the House of Cole." Velasco suddenly commented, almost to herself. "The exceptionally talented and self-trained, half-elf heir of the Odissian Empire. It seems your name can''t stay out of people''s mouths." She paused to peer over her shoulder with a curious gaze. "Care to tell me why?"


    I could only give an amiable shrug and say. "See for yourself."


    "I fully intend to." She smirked. "Just don''t hold back."


    "I''m not the type to hold back." I grinned in turn. "Especially when I''m having fun."


    With that exchange, we entered the arena and diverted. Her, to the railings above with the other mages; and me, to the line of testees waiting impatiently by the entrance.


    The place had been extensively modified during our relatively short absence. Instead of the tiled pit we''d been on before, repeating rows of high walls had been erected along the long axis to create a foundation for a rather complicated web of catwalks placed above. In essence, it was a sort of outdoor shooting range that used the eastern ocean as a backdrop.


    With our arrival, Law moved from the cluster mages to peer over the railing toward us. Looking around, it was evident that the others migrated here as a group, leaving Velasco to fetch me. Still, no one seemed to be bothered. As the officers continued chatting away behind the Mage until he began to speak.


    "Before we begin," Law said. "I must make a few points known. The first and foremost is the nature of the second phase. Within this arena, you will undergo four tests. To do that, you will be needing these." He began pacing along the railing while a few lower-ranked soldiers began pushing around a cart filled with vials of subtly glowing blue liquid. Recognizing it for what it was, I snatched a bottle from the cart to immediately drink it in its entirety and set it back on the trolley before it passed out of reach.


    "I see that many of you recognize the potions distributed to you." Law smiled knowingly. "Nevertheless, I will explain its effect. This brew is known as a Mana Recovery Potion, and will temporarily unbind the restrictions of your mana pores. Allowing you all to take these next assessments without the risk of mana exhaustion. A side effect of this potion, however, is that your pores will be permanently made wider after wearing off. An unforeseen aftereffect that only makes the brew more popular."


    After waiting a few moments to ensure everyone drank their portions, Law resumed the lecture by gesturing to the iron dummies below him. "The first assessment is a demonstration of your skills in elemental manipulation." He then paused to gesture behind him. "Followed by a combat engagement against one of my Sergeants. After that, you will give a demonstration of the offensive and defensive capabilities of each of your magical affinities. Moreover, the assessment will be concluded with an engagement against an opponent that will give each of you a chance to fully showcase your abilities. Furthermore, each of these tests will have conditions placed on both you and your opponents, and you all will be put at more risk than some of you have ever been through in your lives.


    "The second point. Is that." The Magi pointed towards the end of the arena. To a half-dome and protruded from a small cave sitting beside the entrance.


    With vertical, matte obsidian bars barring off the cave and the sun shining in at an off-angle, deep shadows were cast into the depths of a particularly voluminous cell that I was sure couldn''t be seen through by normal means. Naturally, however, I could see the figure inside as clear as day.


    It was a man. One with far paler skin than I''d normally see in the colorless pocket of darkness, a ghostly white color. He was chained to the walls of his cell with only a few bucketfuls of a dark, viscous liquid to keep him company. What was more interesting, however, was that he didn''t seem frightened or even angry at his situation. He simply stared through the roof of his cell to where Grandpa Lich sat and stared at me in equal measure. Almost as if he were fascinated or like he''d seen something grand or awe-inspiring for the first time in his life.


    "That is a vampire spawn arrested in Epethia. For our benefit, he''s been provisioned with several buckets of pig''s blood. Enough to satiate him, but not of a quality high enough to empower him." Law stated before moving his gesture to a separate pocket of mages. "There, we have fourteen healers on standby. Though they are not witches, they will be able to siphon energy from the vampire to heal your injuries at a moment''s notice. With that in mind." He turned back to us with a grin thrown along the lines of the Grandmasters. "We expect each of you to hold nothing back during these tests, regardless of who stands before you, give it your all.


    "But, try not to kill my sergeants." He seemed to chuckle at his comment before giving us a moment to absorb the information and allow our proctors to make their way down to us.


    "At this time, pair with your proctors and await their instructions." The Magi ordered.


    We did as ordered and arranged ourselves in our relatively spacious shooting halls to face the iron dummies placed before us.


    "Attack the dummy at full power on my mark," Velasco shouted from above. "We''ll start with fire. You have five seconds to prepare. Get ready!" At her words, I began gathering the largest field of mana I''d ever taken hold of and began condensing it in my palm, then repeated the process. Over and over again as she counted. "Three¡­ two¡­ one¡­ mark!"


    Thrusting my fist forward, I created a small spark which then ignited the mana flooding around it, then allowed nature to do the rest. For the most part, at least. I still pinched and pulled on the fire to condense it in the most efficient way possible. But without air added to the equation, it appeared more like a rocket engine in the final seconds of its burn: a huge plume of fire.


    "Next, air!" Velasco yelled once the Emperor reformed the dummy. "Get ready!"


    Again, I began gathering absurdly large fields of ambient mana and compressed them to the nth degree while she counted down. And on her mark, I forced the pressurized air through a convergent-divergent nozzle. As a result, the air compressed and subsequently spiked in temperature as it was shoved into the throat, resulting in the molecules accelerating and being pushed forth by their own sound waves up to Mach one; and then beyond as the force of decompression pushed the air to supersonic speeds. Thus resulting in a wind tunnel or jet engine ripping the iron dummy from its housing, sending it hurtling across the ocean like skipped stone, chased by a horrendous screech of wind.


    "Next, Earth!" Velasco unsteadily shouted. "Ready!"


    To prepare, I lowered my center of gravity and grabbed hold of six pockets of mana on the ground around me. At her mark, I pulled the six small boulders from the ground and started ''throwing'' them at the dummy in quick succession. As each one hit, I pulled it in an arc back to me and looped it back around to strike the dummy again and again as if I were juggling. The boulders naturally broke apart more and more with each subsequent impact until I was left with a looping cloud of dust and sand that steadily pitter-pattered on the dummy''s iron skin until Velasco ordered me to halt.


    My weakest by far. But by no means measly.


    "Lastly, Water!" Came the call. "Ready!"


    Like last time, I concentrated on a few ambiguous regions of ambient mana and waited for her mark to condensate the vapor lingering in the air into three orbs of water. I made a water jet out of the first and sent a high-pressure stream across the dummy''s chest, noticeably scarring it but doing no real damage. Continuing before the session could be called, I began stilling the water in the second orb and exciting the fluid in the remaining one. Causing the former to freeze and the latter to boil as the seconds passed. Having no real control over the changed phases, however, I could do no more than shower the dummy with some compressed steam and hurl the chunk of ice at it.


    An anti-climactic feat for sure, but the intent was to display my mastery of the elements. And I doubted even our proctors knew how to manipulate dust, ice, and mist.


    "Outstanding displays!" Law began a round of applause from his perch above. "After a short intermission, we will begin your engagements in alphabetical order. Starting with Abulot Uplos, versus Staff-Sergeant Yolanda Tubbs."

 61 - Close Combat

    ¡°Put on your ring.¡±


    My eyes followed the sound of the voice to see Law standing alone on the catwalk above, a few meters away from Grandmaster Vilignin, my forefathers, and the Emperor. A few ways away from them, a slew of other mages and officials stood around weapons racks placed strategically around the catwalk.


    Turning my attention back to Law, I flashed my hand at him. Eliciting a subtle response that was quickly repressed as he started his briefing. ¡°For this next assessment, you will be facing Staff Sergeant Velasco in martial combat. For her protection, Velasco will be permitted the use of a single spell or technique for the duration of your match. Conversely, the use of any magic or manipulation on your part is prohibited. There will be one round, with no time limit. The match will be decided when one of you is either defeated or admits their loss. Any questions?¡±


    ¡°None.¡± I promptly said. Then turned towards Velasco, standing menacingly at the far end of the arena with her fists balled tight enough for the leather in her gauntlets to scream in mad protest.


    She stared at me with a quivering, hateful sneer as if I¡¯d done the worst to her or someone she cared about. A form of concentration, I assumed, a technique or mental state used to facilitate the ambient mana swirling around her and condensing into an all-too-familiar form. Mana Skin.


    ¡°Get ready!¡±


    Shaking the rising questions aside, I settled into a kickboxing stance and began analyzing her frame and my scanning memories for any exploitable weakness before Law started the match.


    In truth, I never had any qualms about hitting women or old people, or even children who decided to play the age-old game with another person. In my eyes, all lives were objectively worthless. Naturally, such a philosophy persisted in this life. That said, I didn¡¯t have the compulsions to go around hurting people on a whim; nor did I wish to save every unfortunate soul I came across. If my goals or the situation called for it, I would heal, kill, mend, and maim with no hesitation or restraint. As I have before.


    Thus it went without saying that such views extended to the woman before me. My only thoughts at that moment revolved around how to get this match over as quickly and efficiently as possible. And the only conclusive answer was that I¡¯d have to go in with the intent to kill.


    After all, it¡¯d be unwise to underestimate a seasoned staff sergeant.


    ¡°Begin!¡±


    At Law¡¯s word, Velasco and I simultaneously kicked off the ground to weave or lunge forth in a blitz toward the arena¡¯s center.


    She wound up swinging first, delivering an overhand that forced me back a step. Then back again as she persisted with a straight, hook, and uppercut three-piece.


    I feinted as if I¡¯d tripped after dodging the final strike. Falling back, I stared wide-eyed at Velasco reeling in her arm, then saw her adopt a similar gaze once I arched my back and planted my hands on the ground to then push off of my quasi-handstand with everything I had.


    After snapping out my legs, my heels dug into Velasco¡¯s ribs, contouring her body around my foot as her momentum halted and reversed from the force of my kick. Yet it pushed her back only a single step. Without pause, I pushed forward the instant the ground returned to my feet with my leg poised to strike. And with a thrust of the hips, I drove my foot into Velasco¡¯s waist. Pushing her back another meter or so, only for her tenacious assault to resume with a powerful kick off the ground.


    I sent out a high kick in response. A kick she effortlessly sidestepped and countered by taking hold of the back of my raised thigh and sweeping my leg from under me. Slamming my back against the tiled arena with enough force to knock my head against the ground.


    Now properly concussed, I struggled to lock on to Velasco¡¯s visage through my jarred vision before it suddenly darkened. Bringing about a stinging, burning pain that bloomed across my nose and cheeks. Fortunately, however, that blow to my nose served to clear my vision just enough to see Velasco reaching back for another punch. Though late, I dodged my head to the side just enough for her hammer fist to skim my cheek and impact against the ground with a noticeable crack. Without pause, I started shrimping to wiggle my waist from under hers and attain the guard.


    With my legs now wrapped around her groin, it was far too easy to keep her rain of strikes out of reach. Amusingly so on my part and visibly frustrating on hers. With a final missed swing at me, however, Velasco¡¯s frustrations grew to an all-time high. With a wrathful scream, she hooked her arms around my legs and threatened to flip me over. Tossing my amiability aside, I countered with kick after kick to her chest and head, forcing enough distance between us for me to roll backward out of safety.


    Rather than give chase, though, she stood there in much the same way as she did before the match started. Fists balled with a scornful gaze aimed at me. Now, however, a heaving chest pumping a loud, labored breath through her mouth was added to the picture. Though, that wasn¡¯t to say I had the advantage. I was still concussed and had taken some light blows but considerable damage to my back and face that proved to be rather painful in this fragile body of mine.


    Suddenly, the sharp reverberations of metal against stone ripped my concentration from my target. Thankfully, Velasco¡¯s attention had been similarly robbed, resulting in us simultaneously turning to the weapons clattering around the arena. Maces, swords, flails, and most eye-catching of all, daggers and spears. Without thinking, I sidestepped and rolled to the right to pick up a dagger, then lunged backward for a spear and deftly slid the dagger between my belt and the small of my back. Velasco, on the other hand, dove forward for a short sword in front of her and recovered in a roll to resume her charge without breaking stride.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    With a backward handspring, I finally manage to retrieve my primary weapon and sent out a thrust on the rebound. Seeing the danger before her, Velasco slammed her foot into the ground and jumped out of the way. Deftly dodging the spearhead by a hairs-breadth. Unrelenting, I continued sending thrust after thrust her way, forcing the Staff Sergeant on the defensive. Though my strikes rarely hit their mark, the constant bobbing and weaving served to worsen Velasco¡¯s fatigue all the same. Something she surely grew to notice, as she began ducking and sidestepping her way closer to me.


    Grinning wide at her actions, I swept the spear horizontally overhead, causing her scowl to grow deeper before she ducked and lunged forth, aiming to stab me all the way through.


    Just as Velasco¡¯s arm shot forth like a piston, I released the spear to leave it cartwheeling above us while I sidestepped left, reaching behind my back before I kicked off the ground with a thrust of my own. As I hoped, she too sidestepped to the right to dodge my feint, placing her knee right in the path of my roundhouse. As she stumbled to the side a bit, I hastily pulled my foot down and reached my right hand skyward to catch my spear with a resounding smack.


    Capitalizing on her opening, I gripped the weapon just below the head and pulled back as I lunged forward with a guttural scream.


    Though the spear didn¡¯t penetrate, the force behind my attack was concentrated into the spearhead¡¯s point and went through her mana skin with what felt like little resistance. Her back buckled as she was forced back and down to a knee. However, she kept pushing. And with great force.


    And so, I pushed. I moved my grip further back on the haft and used leverage to push her to the ground. And when that failed, I stopped pushing and began kicking, stamping her face with my boot again and again, prompting Velasco to let out a guttural scream of her own and rock onto her back to try and throw me off of her. Following her lead, I tossed the spear aside and jumped onto her like a crazed spider monkey, pinning her arms to the ground with my knees before I started pummeling her with the dagger¡¯s pommel again and again.


    Ignoring the mind-numbing thumps impacting against the top and back of my head, I continued assaulting Velasco¡¯s mana skin until visible cracks started forming on the vibrantly blue surface. And soon after, the skin finally shattered into trillions of glass-like particles just as a particularly mind-numbing kick slammed into the back of my head. In desperation, I remembered the lingering whispers that plagued me when using my most powerful spell and found a bit of rage in my subconscious to latch onto.


    Seething and screaming, I cast aside my perception of visible light and focused only on the atmosphere of energy surrounding us, contouring our bodies into abstract outlines. Then, using all of my strength, I brought the pommel down on the depression of energy that was her eye. I was rewarded with a distant, wet crunch and the feeling of her body squirming beneath me, so I brought the pommel down again on the other depression. Then again on the L-shaped contour that was her throat before I tossed the dagger aside as well.


    After prying one of her hands from her face without resistance, I took my time in establishing an armbar and consequently shattered her elbow; albeit with much effort. Velasco responded in kind with a hoarse scream of bloody murder that transitioned to one of pure rage in the next instant. Only to be canceled out by my heel swiftly ramming into her jaw, knocking her out cold.


    Finally.


    With my sudden relaxation, the enraging memories returned to the pit of my subconscious, sending the damage that¡¯d been pushed away rushing to the forefront of my mind. My chest and back, nose, and most of all, my head was painfully pounding like the steps of a giant echoing across a peaceful dale. So I tossed Velasco¡¯s arm aside and lay there for a few seconds. Fighting the pain back to that place in the back of my mind while I waited for my vision to clear to a manageable level.


    Within a few moments or minutes, the distant cheers of the crowd began to grow louder and louder, and a few seconds later, I felt a firm grip embrace me around the shoulder. My reflexes kicked in at that moment, bringing my leg up and around toward whoever was touching me. Only for another hand to catch me around the ankle.


    Focusing my eyes brought Law¡¯s incensed visage into view. He was holding my ankle, blocking my leg from hitting a hooded and masked figure leaning over my head. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a pass because you¡¯re on the brink of consciousness, but you¡¯ll be punished and disqualified if you attempt to assault my subordinate again.¡±


    Even if I could¡¯ve, I wouldn¡¯t have paid his threat any mind. My hand still would¡¯ve been raised and I still would¡¯ve put nearly all my effort into muttering. ¡°The¡­ ring.¡±


    I saw his blurred brows curl in displeasure before they rose in curiosity. Then, he reached down and slipped the ring off my finger, releasing the blockade imposed upon my mana well.


    The sudden wave of death mana blooming from my body seemed to unconsciously force Law and his subordinate back a meter or two. However, I could hardly pay them any mind at that point, as the torturous process of having my bones and organs shift back into place and stitch themselves together plagued the arena with a symphony of cracking bones and horrid screams that ended with the taste of iron lingering in the air and a healthy but bloodied half-elf standing amiably in the center of the arena.


    Once Velasco was carried off, Law turned to me and monotonously said. ¡°Congratulations on your victory.¡± Before jerking his thumb over his shoulder to a corridor leading below the bleachers. ¡°Rest up in there and wait for the others to finish their matches.¡±


    Although I didn¡¯t see the point in not allowing us to view the other matches after going ourselves, I followed his instructions and migrated to a spacious, underground lounge. Dozens of booths, tables, and sofas were arranged around the perimeter of the room while a food bar took up the center space. Looking around, I saw Abulot brooding in the far corner. So I moved to the opposite end to go through the new questions burning in my mind before I meditated the time away.


    ---


    After some time, a cascade of thunderous steps began to creep into my senses, stirring me from my half-conscious state just in time to see all the big wigs enter and gaze about the lounge with mixed looks of excitement and expectation.


    ¡°Congratulations on making it to the end of the assessment,¡± Grandmaster Vilignin said. ¡°First, I want to assure you all that there is no risk of you being mortally wounded in this final test. Your opponent will show restraint in that regard, but will not hold back otherwise. Your scores thus far have been used to match you with an enemy that will challenge the lot of you.


    ¡°Or, so we hope.¡± She smirked, then stepped aside with a gesture to Law.


    ¡°The conditions for the assessment are as follows,¡± he said. ¡°Your opponent will remain idle while you showcase the offensive capabilities of each of your magical affinities. After that, you are to showcase the defensive capabilities of your magic before defeating your opponent in any way you can. You are allowed to heal yourself or be healed no more than three times during your match. Healing more than three times, admitting defeat, or losing consciousness will result in twenty-five out of fifty points being deducted from your total score.


    ¡°Furthermore,¡± Law added with a raised finger. ¡°The order in which you will fight has been decided by the spectators above. So, if there are no questions, we ask that Rosso DaVinci make his way to the arena. As for the rest of you, remain here and await your turn.¡±

 62 - Paper Arts

    Emeric Cole.


    ***


    While the Initiates were eating and recovering underground, the many guests and spectators either watched in awe or waited impatiently for His Imperial Majesty to expand the arena by a couple of hundred meters on each axis and do away with the stands in favor of filling in the dome with igneous rock and iron, closing off the environment that had since been left open to the eastern ocean views. With the rearrangement and installation of a few enchantments, the arena had been transformed into a proper coliseum. Complete with a labyrinth of corridors, service rooms, and interlinked viewing booths to safely observe the second-most anticipated event of the evening.


    Though it was rather uneventful, Rosso''s fight went by without a hitch. He completed all the conditions for his assessment, including slaying his opponent. Which was more than what was expected of him by many of us, with him being in the non-combative role that he was in. Still, it went without saying that the spectators voted for him to be the first undercard for a reason. Naturally, that extended to Maurice Harris, Toka Eyer, as well as their master, Prince Abulot, all of whom failed to properly finish off their opponent, unlike Rosso.


    Much to no one''s surprise or dismay, might I add.


    "Next up, Lucia Pike!" Law announced, triggering a wave of adjusted seats and hushed conversations to travel throughout our booth while Lucia took to the floor like a prideful snow lioness. Her eyes remained forward; focused, yet distant like the look of a hardened veteran.


    Quite unexpectedly, the Emperor seemed particularly eager to see her prowess in action. Magnitudes more so than what was displayed in the previous engagements, at least. It was a sight that resonated with me to my core. As I too was eager to see what my son''s knight was capable of after so many years of training.


    As before, her opponent was an entity of my Grandfather''s and the Emperor''s creation. It was an instance of Collaborative Fusion Magic. A golem of iron, tar, and lava that was mirrored in size, strength, and magical might to that of its opponent; Lucia, in this case, and then given a soul. Yet the only difference between her and it; the Emperor assured us, was the superior durability granted from its iron body and the natural aspects of its ''flesh.''


    As it had been explained to us, the golem had orders to remain idle as Lucia first showcased her sword magic''s offensive abilities by impaling the golem through the belly with a glowing mana blade, followed by a bronze polearm, and a rain of feathers that attempted much the same, only to fail without so much as scratching the golem''s skin. With that, Law gave Lucia the same instructions he''d given to the others, spurring the Golem to attack with a triage of easily readable bullet spells made from lava, iron, and tar.


    Without pause, the young royal knight used her sword magic to either cut apart or deflect the spells. Then went on to successfully defend and deflect against the same wave of attacks with a bronze shield and strong gusts of wind born from but a few free-floating feathers.


    With the formalities done, the main event proceeded with Granddad merging the soul of an orc with the golem''s body and issuing the agreed-upon set of instructions. And the moment Granddad stepped back through the shadows, the golem went on to rush Lucia at its highest attainable speed.


    While she was noticeably caught off guard, Lucia aptly responded with her own instance of fusion magic; though, it was facilitated through the use of an enchantment. A bronze sheen grew to cover the entirety of her body in armor made of bladed feathers; some of which detached and lashed out at the golem from unpredictable angles. Still, however, the golem persisted with an underhanded swing of its clubbed fist.


    Almost as if she anticipated it, Lucia released another spell. Spawning what appeared to be hundreds of feathers that began cascading onto her back to form an angelic pair of wings. With her now airborne, the golem was forced to fling spell after bullet spell her way while she rained mana blades down on the golem. Yet her opponent was unrelenting and quickly switched tactics by spreading a lava domain across the ground. Coating the place in a blistering heat that naturally weakened Lucia''s Wing Magic. The final blow to her advantage came when a second, smaller domain of tar was spread over the lava and subsequently vaporized, forming a thick layer of toxic smog in the air.


    Being properly blinded, Lucia had no chance at dodging the bullet spells the golem started spitting out at random. So, she simply countered with a domain of her own. Spawning a sea of glowing, milk-white mana daggers, swords, and spears that either cut through the lava, the tar, or the golem itself with the utmost ease; if they didn''t shatter into countless motes of brilliant light.


    Regardless of the fate of the individual blades, the golem was ripped apart from head to toe, leaving its torn remains to unceremoniously fall to the floor. Thus finalizing her victory.


    After a brief moment of shock from seeing the first eye-catching win of the evening, everyone erupted in cheer. I caught myself a moment too late and hurriedly rose from my seat to erupt in a furious round of applause alongside the others, cheering: "A magnificent display!"


    "Roheisa has a fine knight!" Grandfather bellowed in his signature laugh.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    The initiate in question took a polite bow to the stands before exiting the floor. Prompting Law to resume his post on the catwalk while His Imperial Majesty worked to reform the golem.


    "Jaimess A. Corey!" Came the announcement once they were finished.


    After settling back into his seat, His Imperial Majesty turned to me with raised brows to boastfully say. "Corey is one of your boy''s vassals, is he not? I hear Amun has taught them quite well."


    "Extensively, Your Imperial Majesty." I chortled in dismay in the face of the memories flooding to mind. "They all started training under his tutelage in earnest shortly after they entered his service if you can believe it. And they rarely missed a day. I can''t recall how many times I''ve seen them sparring with Amun''s doppelgangers."


    "One could hardly call it sparring." Granddad subtly bellowed.


    "Oh, I can believe it." The Emperor chuckled in turn. "I only hope Sir Corey doesn''t disappoint."


    "Well." I humbly chuckled. "With Lucia''s display, it''ll be hard to top. My Lord, could she use her abilities well."


    The Emperor said nothing in response to my words and instead leaned forward to focus on Jaimess placidly settling into place. I too turned to my front and peered through the large windows afforded by the booth in which we sat to see that, like Lucia before him, Jaimess was undeterred. Donned in his armor, he held a mace in his right hand while a black bar attached to a strange brace was placed along his left forearm. An item that served as quite the conversation piece to those seated around us.


    At Law''s mark, much the same procedure as before ensued. Jaimess conjured a single sheet of paper and swept it across the golem''s belly, leaving a deep gash in its hardened flesh. Next, he conjured two dissimilar bullets and launched them at the golem one at a time.


    The first, made from a black, powdery material listed as carbon, dug into the magma-filled groove that distinguished the golem''s shoulder from the rest of its arm and quickly grew red hot, yet remained in place as if it were made of iron. The second one was similarly made of a grainy material, albeit one of an off-white color that hardened into a stony material of a similar color. Again, the spell found purchase in the golem''s shoulder and quickly began glowing red hot.


    Much to everyone''s surprise, however, the grainy substance morphed into an all-too-familiar substance after being heated. A substance that many of us recognized at a glance, causing the same two words to be repeated over and over again within our booth alone. Even from me.


    "Glass?" I gasped. "Or... perhaps quartz?"


    Even as Jaimess impaled the golem with a shard of obsidian, my shock persisted. I could only set it aside when I felt the demanding presence of death coming from my Granddad, bringing me to see the ghostly visage of a high-orc soul assimilating into the golem''s flesh.


    As before, it rushed Jaimess the moment the floor was clear. Yet Jaimess acted with no hesitation, bracing himself while gathering mana in his arm. In turn conjuring countless sheets of paper that repeatedly folded around his brace to form a shield just before the golem''s overhead swing impacted.


    Naturally, Jaimess was forced down to a knee from the blow, but the shield remained intact nevertheless. Causing a rightful eruption of cheer to rattle the walls of the coliseum that I unwaveringly contributed to. It was the first successful blocked rush of the night, after all.


    As the golem reeled back for another blow, Jaimess lunged backward and seemed to spawn a growth of paper from his back. Much to everyone''s amazement and amusement, the growth expanded with the steady addition of more folded sheets until it took the form of a rather large and comical¡­ crab. A crab made of paper and covered in an armor of obsidian plates


    If Jaimess could hear the laughs and cheers from the many booths above and around him, he placidly paid them no mind as he mounted the paper crab. Naturally, the golem was unamused and resorted to flinging a barrage of bullets at Jaimess, who in turn swayed madly as a result of the crab deftly dodging from side to side.


    Curious, I prompted my portion of the viewing glass to enhance the picture, bringing into view a crude paper belt Jaimess was attaching to the crab''s back. What was more interesting, however, was the menagerie of smaller, obsidian-armored creatures shuffling around him. Birds, rats, rabbits, and even larger creatures like wolves, a tiger, and even a damned dragon were grouped around him, lurching in tune with the crab''s motions while they seemingly fed on something.


    It took the paper stampede to lose a few members to the golem''s domain and the subsequent rain of bullets for me to realize it was Jaimess'' other magics they were feeding on. Some exploded into clouds of inflammable black dust while others charged their opponents and sometimes struck true, resulting in powdered patches and glowing chunks of glass decorating the golem''s husk.


    A particularly dense cone of the sand-like material spewing from the paper dragon''s maw served as the proper turning point of the battle. With a single pass, a thick sheet of the stuff covered the entirety of the golem''s domain and more. Melting the powder into a coat of molten glass that, more or less, immobilized the golem entirely. Allowing Jaimess to withdraw a significant portion of his mana reserves and form a massive pike of the black inflammable powder overhead.


    With the passing seconds, however, the material began to condense, harden and change its luster into a form that we knew all too well.


    "Is that diamond!?!" His Imperial Majesty spat before anyone else could. Yet, none could answer him, as we were too awestruck at the crystalline pike being grasped by the paper dragon''s talons while Jaimess'' crab turned to the side and lunged.


    With the dragon on a rapid descent and Jaimess imbuing the same crystals into his mace as he rocketed away from the crab, the golem''s fate was all but assured. The glass-encased aggregation of tar, lava, and iron shattered into chunks soon after it was impaled by the paper dragon. Leaving a sea of molten glass and a cloud of shredded paper in its place with Jaimess floating triumphantly atop two pillars of manipulated fire spawned from the soles of his boots. A sight that made everyone, myself included, erupt with voracious applause at the sight.


    "A flawless execution!" Granddad immediately bellowed.


    Followed in turn by His Imperial Majesty''s not-so-subtle boasting. "And an excellent display of impromptu strategizing."


    The applause and praise continued while Jaimess left the ring and lasted up until Law called the next opponent to the stage. Prompting the cheer to rise to an all-time high and conversely serving to slow the steps of the young lad meekly strolling onto the floor.


    "Ah!" His Imperial Majesty grinned wide as he leaned forward on his throne. "Another one of your boy''s vassals, Emeric?" He deviously chortled. "We''ll have to up the ante on this one."

 63 - Rocketman

    Magus Everandus ''Necro King'' Cole.


    ***


    Regrettably, I had to hold off on Jamettus¡¯ suggestion for Amun¡¯s artisans. Like Sir Corey before them, Lady Sinclare and Sir Giorno made what was already a short assessment even shorter. With magnificent displays of chain and severing magic, their opponent was dismembered and scattered across the arena before the crowd''s excitement could even die down.


    ¡°Edward Pascal!¡±


    ¡°What say you, Ev?¡± Jamettus muttered to me as he subtly cast a mix of mana down to the floor. ¡°Are you going to challenge this one or not?¡±


    Withholding my words, I inwardly scanned the sea of souls swirling within me for a suitable opponent while I amiably observed the young craftsman go through the motions.


    As it¡¯d been at the Academy, Edward¡¯s smoke magic was neither good nor bad in attack or defense. It was like the darkness, in a way. Formless, but immune to heat rather than cold. It could kill, though not through blunt force or pierced skin. Its power was infecting the body, weakening the mind in turn. It was an effective tool against the living but was ineffective against the undead and inanimate. With his awakening, however, his weaknesses seemed to have been all but covered. His second affinity, Torch Magic, according to his file, conjured a blue-white inferno that either vaporized or melted the three bullet spells and their caster on the spot, forcing Jamettus to once again reform the golem, only for Sir Pascal to crumble it to bits with his Force Magic shortly after, but not before the golem¡¯s bullets were halted in place by the same force.


    The last and most interesting affinity of all was the never-before-heard-of Tungsten Magic. A metal that appeared like steel at a glance, if not for its cracking in the face of a few bullet spells; regardless, it remained intact. And more, a small cube of the material served to rip the man-sized golem off its feet and send it hurtling into the wall as if it¡¯d been shot by a ballista. At which time, I slipped back into the Fell without a word to subsequently become lost in nostalgia for a moment.


    It was clear that a denizen of Betrarth wouldn¡¯t make the cut for a worthy opponent. The next tier would have been those from beyond the White Wall, but I felt even those hardy souls would fail to give us the show we were after.


    ¡°You couldn¡¯t have just trained them yourself, Ev?¡± I berated my past self.


    With my reserve of Nonusian souls being remarkably low in comparison to the other realms, I quickly pulled out the first Ice-tier Imp I could grasp hold of and dipped my hand into the physical plane.


    While feeding death mana out of my core, up to my throat, and into my voice, I ordered. ¡°Bullet spells for thirty seconds, domain spells for one minute. After fighting in such a manner, you are free to do as you must to bring Edward Pascal under submission. Do not kill or mortally wound him. And do not leave this ring¡­¡± I continued on with the agreed-upon rules while the demon soul settled inside its new body; and like many times before, I retracted my hand into the umbral plane with a sour taste in my mouth.


    Rather than return to my seat beside Jamettus, I stepped halfway into the private booth reserved for the Mages. Much like in every booth, the center, forward-most seats were reserved for the Grandmaster and her direct subordinates. The others were lined along the sides. Staring at the large windows displaying the perpetually meek young man standing before a sentient Necromental. It had to be said, however, that his meekness was a result of his innate character and that alone. Like all of Amun¡¯s little faithful followers, Edward Pascal was unfazed and unconcerned with the overwhelming shadow of death looming over him.


    Perhaps it was because they grew accustomed to the pervasive feeling over the years, or perhaps it was due to their master¡¯s necromancy being far more potent than mine. All I knew was that this assessment wasn¡¯t properly testing these initiates.


    ¡°I think this is why the Necro King was unwilling to help you, Madame,¡± I heard Master Mage Heydon say. "They are too experienced with death magic."


    ¡°You don''t say?.¡± I scoffed into the dark realm. Then stepped out. ¡°The reason this test is too easy is because of your persistence in establishing a handicap.¡±


    While her subordinates leaped from their seats to turn about, Vilignin and Heydon remained focused on Edward, cheerfully sending bullets back at the necromental at twice the speed they came in at while he heated a large chunk of his tungsten floating above him.


    ¡°What are your suggestions for improvement, Sir?¡± The Grandmaster monotonously asked.


    ¡°Remove the rules and increase the power.¡± I amiably shrugged. ¡°War requires unconventional methods, so we will make our methods unconventional."


    ¡°Edward is the last of the non-combatants.¡± I continued after a short pause. ¡°Unfortunately, Lucia Pike has already assessed; though, if her performance is to tell us anything, it¡¯s that this assessment is nothing more than a show and tell.¡±


    As if to prove my point, Edward released a deafening shockwave, accelerating his scalding metal pillar into a white-hot blur that preceded a mind-shattering explosion. Though the boxes to our peripherals erupted into applause at once, sheer indifference could be seen in the face of every mage present.


    ¡°Very well.¡± Vilignin coldly nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll leave it in your hands, Sir.¡±


    I returned to my seat just in time to see Toril O¡¯Connell settling into place before the little golem. Having Fulgum blood in his veins, he¡¯d long since been a powerful mage in the making. After assimilating his well with another one, however, he surpassed his entire family line and stepped into the Diamond tier of wells like the royals themselves.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Like before, my mind churned while I amiably watched him display remarkable accuracy with his lightning bolts, or stop and crumple the bullets and boulders in a crushing cloud of visible gas, and pin them down to the ground or blow them to dust in spectacular explosions. And when it was time, I slipped off into the shadows as before.


    This time, however, I added the rough equivalent of Toril¡¯s mana reserves into the golem before packing the soul of a diamond-grade Oni inside, imbuing my voice with death mana, and saying. ¡°Debilitate Toril O¡¯Connell. Do not kill him and do not destroy or leave the ring. Wait until he makes the first move to begin.¡±


    Though it was still the same size as Toril, the necromental was blooming with more raw power than necromental energy, allowing the demon soul to make full use of the fiery affinities of the base unit it was provided. Finally giving the event some appeal, in my eyes.


    Naturally, Jamettus noticed the change at once and gave all the wordless signs of his compliance. It was clear, at that moment, that he and I agreed upon the same things: that the Guild Association cared more for their innate affinities and magical prowess than their resilience, mental toughness, battle sense, or diligence- the true things that distinguished Guild Masters from their lesser peers. It was clear to us- to everyone, that Vilignin¡¯s words were merely lip service, that this final phase of the assessment had been nothing but mammoth shit up until now.


    Seeming to grow tired of waiting for the match to start, Toril proceeded with drawing his weapon and billowing out a powerful gust of wind as if he were taunting his opponent. In response, the demonic necromental let out a blood-curdling scream before spewing a stream of iron-chunked lava across the arena.


    Without pause, Toril reinforced his body with lightning and darted out of the way fast enough to leave an afterimage; still, the necromental persisted with a steady arc of molten material. Splattering the arena with pockets of blisteringly hot material in the wake of Toril, zig-zagging around the arena with an ever-increasing speed and intensity until he reached the top of the dome. Where he descended atop a lightning bolt to bring the hammerhead of his axe down on the necromental¡¯s head.


    The glowing iron skull deformed into a flattened plate under the force of Toril¡¯s attack; that force went on to distort the rest of its body until the ground was compressed beyond its limits and eventually broke into an intricate web of cracks. It was enough to heat the damned thing to such a degree that it was truly deserving of its namesake. Naught a second after the lightning dissipated, the entity sprang to its feet and reeled back for a punch; regardless, Toril¡¯s reinforced body quickly sidestepped, spun, and swept the infused blade across its neck. Then reeled back and hit it again and again and again, spitting arcs of lightning every which way, building so much heat it began slowing the necromental¡¯s movements, leaving it immobilized and unable to guard against Toril¡¯s assault.


    An act that only served to enrage the Oni soul within.


    With a Cursed scream, the necromental gathered nearly half of its mana and poured out a dense, triple-layered domain at point-blank range. And without blinking, Toril countered by holding out his palm, combusting what I assumed was the gas he accumulated throughout the arena at the start of the match.


    When the dust cleared, Toril was gone and the necromental¡¯s shredded body remained screaming madly as it searched around the field of lava, charred tar, and molten heaps of iron it created. Sensing the sudden spike in mana above, the necromental then snapped its gaze above and pounced after the young knight with a feral scream. Toril, on the other hand, flicked a bullet spell at the beast and calmly observed its speed slow to a halt, reverse, and accelerate to breakneck speeds back to the ground to produce yet another voluminous crater. Then, Toril took flight, using gusts of air or sometimes small explosions to propel him whilst he delivered strike after lightning strike from the tip of his finger.


    To everyone¡¯s awe, including myself, Toril¡¯s strikes hit their mark each and every time. I¡¯d witnessed such a feat long ago, of course; but even after all those years, it remained an unbelievable sight to my ancient eyes. More so, the demonic necromental didn¡¯t even stand a chance against Toril. Like all the others I and Amun trained, he fought smartly and held absolutely no mercy for his opponent. Aspects that served to make me grin wide in satisfaction.


    After several dozen strikes, the iron and stone in the necromental¡¯s flesh were glowing hot enough to prevent them from reforming, though the bullets and bolts of lava, iron, and tar still came in full force. Evidently serving as the cue for Toril to create a couple of domains of his own.


    The first was a small, airless region that was distinguished only by snuffed-out flames and the potent wall of mana keeping the surrounding air at bay; just beyond that, lay a ring-shaped domain filled to the brim with thick, cloudy gas.


    While the necromental screamed in protest, Toril cocked his axe and began pouring an immense portion of mana into it. Creating cascades of crackling lighting to streak across the arena at random. And once his weapon was fully charged, Toril hurled toward the golem with a triumphant roar.


    The Storm Thief spun beautifully around Toril''s frame as he landed before the necromental, performing a dance across and through the fiendish golem''s body as the weapon followed its wielder to the ground, leaving a thunderous wake of lightning striking to ignite the dense cloud of gas and obliterate the sad excuse for a challenge completely.


    The result of the young Knight¡¯s efforts was an explosion that dwarfed all the others combined. Even I was forced to shield my eyes from the radiance. And mentally prepare myself for the shock.


    Only, none came.


    After forcing shadows into my eyes, the light dimmed to manageable levels, bringing Toril¡¯s visage into view once again.


    Still high in the air, his face was shriveled from concentration. His hands were faced together, shaking hard enough for his veins to bulge from his skin. Below him, on the ground, sat the very explosion he¡¯d created, compressed. Contained and sustained within a small domain that encapsulated whatever remained of the necromental, now melted into a pool of slag.


    Once his target had been disposed of, Toril calmly dissipated the contained explosion and expectantly held out his hand to summon his axe back to him. Then took a subtle nod to the booths to excuse himself from the arena.


    ¡°I knew Amun was powerful.¡± Jamettus chuckled in disbelief. ¡°But, Toril O¡¯Connell surely is as well. All of his vassals are.¡± He chuckled again.


    ¡°Toril learned none of that at my school.¡± I quietly assured him. ¡°All of that was as a result of Amun¡¯s teachings or their own diligence.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Jamettus calmly sighed. ¡°I may have to get Roheisa to learn from him as well.¡±


    ¡®Oh, dear friend.¡¯ I shook my head inside. ¡®You coddle her far too much. Amun has been independent since he was a boy. And look at him now. Although¡­¡¯


    ¡°What makes you think Amun hasn¡¯t given her a few lessons already?¡±


    ¡°HMM?!?!¡± Jamettus not so subtly turned to me with a crimson fire burning in his eyes.

 64 - The New Generation

    Jamettus Deapou.


    ***


    With the horrid, amused, or shocked stares leaking into my awareness, I calmed myself and turned my attention away from my oldest friend and back to the event at hand. Or, I did on the outside. Internally, uncountable matters plagued me.


    First and foremost was what Ev said. Frankly speaking, Amun did not strike me as the lustful type. Sir Nojo, perhaps, but not the Grand Duke of Odissi. That said, I would rather it be Amun to take my daughter''s hand than anyone else. Such a trivial matter, that scenario was. But a distraction from the true hauntings of my mind. Yet, its importance remained true all the same.


    Beyond that was the matter of competence. Or rather, incompetence. Incompetence on the Necro King and I and the Guild Association''s part. Perhaps it was both of us, perhaps neither. It was very well possible that this new generation was in a league of its own. A previously unseen class of potential granted by some mutation or divine right that permitted them affinities of a higher quality and quantity. Whatever the reason, it was clear that even two Magus¡¯ were unable to test these individuals atop this Cast Iron Summit. They needed proper facilities to be tested. If not a proper battlefield. They required an expanse placed far from civilization, filled with empowered and magical creatures that could test them to their limits. They needed the Bodhi Tree. Only then, would they be unchained from these rules and risks of collateral damage.


    Only then, could we see their true potential.


    I only hoped Roheisa met the expectations set for her. And I prayed to live to see it.


    The fire within me died a bit when Jonet Fischer was called into the arena. That said, it was replaced by an ember of curiosity upon realizing the young Lady was the daughter of my head maid, Sarah. That said, I was unaware if she could still be considered a witch-to-be, as her file had her documented as more a fighter than a healer. Regardless, I vowed to give Sarah some time off to rekindle and reconnect with her daughter before my thoughts were ripped asunder by way of her spearing my golem with an ice lance and defending against its barrage with a simple ice shield.


    My and everyone else¡¯s curiosity was piqued when she used what was registered as thermal magic to either vaporize the bullets completely or freeze them to their core in midair, leaving them to shatter into bits after being casually dodged. The effortlessness of her movements left everyone bewildered and awestruck. Such traits were only compounded once she used reverberating pops and clicks of the mouth to bombard the golem, its bullets, and our ears from afar. Only for the sound to reach down to such levels to allow for open conjecture upon her usage of poison bogs to slow and corrode the golem¡¯s bullets and flesh.


    Much like Ev¡¯s descendant, I remained silent and open while the Necro King poured a massive amount of mana and yet another demonic soul into the conjuration. Once Ev returned to his seat, however, I leaned back further and leaned into him to subtly mutter. ¡°Hopefully this one meets a challenge.¡±


    ¡°Lower your hopes, old friend.¡± He dryly snorted. ¡°This one¡¯s the most ruthless of them all.¡±


    ¡°Oho?¡± I turned towards the glass, frowning in disbelief. Like her mother, she was a naturally quiet girl with a placid and easily ignorable visage. And though her mana well was potent, she seemed far too aloof and harmless to be as ruthless as Ev claimed. But of course, it was those types who were often the most dangerous.


    Unlike with Toril, the demonic necromental crouched low and lunged towards Lady Fischer without as much as a creak of its iron bones to signal its attack. It closed half the distance within an instant; yet, Jonet stood stark in place with her arm held out towards her opponent, and like she turned a dial, she cranked her wrist counterclockwise and muttered something under her breath, spreading a frigid domain across the arena that had to be upwards of ten meters in radius.


    ¡°Was that a Curse Spell?¡± I gasped in disbelief. ¡°What was it that she said?¡±


    Though it had been caught near the outer edge, the necromental met the same fate as the landscape surrounding it. The very stone tiles below and its igneous skin were both caked in a film of dusty frost that formed from a silent cold. A cold frigid enough to make the northern reaches of Deapou feel like a Vaguan summer. And as she did with the bullets, she easily sidestepped the now-frozen necromental and even turned to watch its momentum carry across the arena until it shattered into uncountable fragments.


    Without skipping a beat, Jonet muttered her somethings again before turning the dial clockwise this time. Instantly pitting the domain in a light that dwarfed that of the sun.


    ¡°Seventy-five Kelvin, she said the first time.¡± Ev gasped much as I did. ¡°Then, fifty-five hundred Kelvin. But, it was only half of the equation. Not a true curse spell.¡±


    ¡°And yet powerful all the same.¡± I chortled dryly at the aftermath. All that was left around her was a molten puddle of rock and not much else. For ten meters in every direction, the very floor had been melted and sent up into the air as ash that caked her in a film of gray-black dust. Yet, she beamed wide and bowed at the crowd on her way out as if she was a bard who just finished a performance.


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    ¡®And¡­ who is Kelvin?¡¯ I wondered.


    ¡°Roheisa Deapou!¡±


    Law¡¯s announcement served to pry such meaningless inquiries right from my mind and force me to the edge of my seat in the blink of an eye. ¡°Finally.¡¯ I muttered. ¡°It is time.¡±


    If Everandus and the others heard my comment, they didn¡¯t respond in any way; though, even if they had, I doubted I would have noticed, as every ounce of concentration I could muster had been magnetized towards Roheisa, taking the stage.


    Bearing her training clothes with her longsword on her hip, she stood undaunted in the center of the arena as she sneered at the iron golem standing at around twelve meters¡¯ distance. As I¡¯d seen her do many times before, she effortlessly parried the bullet spells with steel-reinforced arms before taking a step forth and piercing the golem with a conjured lance. Seeming to be as eager as I was to see what she was made of, Roheisa raced on with an obvious flair of boredom to repeat the same processes with her crystal magic and other affinities. Thus prompting Ev to proceed with the ritual and begin the long-awaited moment.


    I knew not the specificity of the nature of souls Ev imbued into these conjurations. Only that they were filled to the brim with mana and given sentience through some type of demon''s soul. Monstrously powerful creatures, they were. When in their natural flesh.


    With the start of the match, the necromental rushed in much the same way as Jonet¡¯s version did. Yet unlike her, Roheisa drew her sword to meet it head-on. With her body imbued with steel and some strange type of magnetic spell coating her body, Roheisa clashed with the necromental in a bright flash of sparks and heat with nary a half-meter of ground lost on her end. Yet she kept the pressure high by reeling back to conjure a steel mace in her left hand and strike the golem in the jaw. And so ensued the slugfest.


    They went blow for blow, toe to toe for a few minutes straight. Acting in line with its nature, the necromental unleashed its fury on Roheisa without pause, and Roheisa met it in kind. With each block, blow, parry, and dodge, her movements became sharper and quicker. The steel covering her grew to glow hotter and hotter. Meanwhile, the magnetic field surrounding her spun faster and faster with each passing second. Imbuing her with a curious energy that resonated with a small part of me.


    It wasn¡¯t until Roheisa¡¯s swung widely and missed that I realized what it was.


    As she followed through with her attack, her heat caused a bit of molten steel to slough off her body, increasing the area of her attack as she had been taught to do. And yet, a blinding blue light arced from the head of her mace to splay across the necromental from head to toe, showering it with countless sprawling fingers of lightning. Capitalizing on the stun she inflicted, Roheisa sheathed her sword to reach out with both hands, expelling a domain to encapsulate the golem in a blistering sphere of molten lava.


    As one would assume, the necromental flailed in mad protest, flinging massive chunks of smoldering lava and iron every which way; yet, Roheisa remained undaunted and simply flexed more mana into her arms, conjuring a field of steel spikes around the domain that were sent lunging toward the glowing sphere at a moments notice. Then, as if she weren¡¯t already done, she magnetized both the being inside her domain and the spikes impaling it, lifted their combined mass, and hurled it at the ceiling.


    On both its ascent and after its impact, smoking clumps of solidifying lava were sent across the arena as if they were flung from afar by an unseen volcano. Then the sight was repeated as she slammed the thing back into the ground, sending a notable quake throughout the entire structure that grew to repeat again and again until all that was left of her opponent was a decoration of smoldering chunks and self-mending craters.


    ¡°She¡¯s as mad and unmerciful as yourself, old friend.¡± Ev chuckled from my left.


    ¡°But of course.¡± I chuckled. ¡°I trained her myself.¡±


    ¡°Then what the hells were you worried for?¡± He lightheartedly chided through the shadows in my ear.


    ¡°That she wouldn¡¯t be angry enough,¡± I whispered back.


    ¡°Ah.¡± He silently nodded. ¡°So then it goes without saying that she intends to be a Vulcanox Berserker, like you?¡±


    ¡°Is it unnatural for a snow lion to birth a snow lioness?¡± I chortled back. Then took a moment to gaze and listen to the many spectators lined around the arena, whispering and commenting and conversing about the night''s main event. ¡°The real question is.¡± I turned back to them. ¡°What is the nature of Emeric¡¯s seed? Everyone is more than eager to see the Grand Duke- your prodigy in action.¡±


    ¡°Prodigy.¡± Ev snorted.


    Meanwhile, Emeric chimed in by whispering through the shadows into my other ear. ¡°If he¡¯s anything like his mother, Your Imperial Majesty, he¡¯s a Cleric on top of being a Sorcerer. Though I doubt they follow the same Goddess. His training seems to place him as a monk. Otherwise.¡± He dejectedly sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know what he is.¡±


    ¡°I have known what Amun was since the day I first laid eyes on his soul. And I have fought with him enough times to see the devil dwelling within him.¡± Ev grimly stated. ¡°Grand Duke Amun of Odissi, my great-grandson, and your son, Emeric, has a divine soul. It shines like the sun, just like those legendary beasts. He is akin to one of them in a humanoid form, stricken with curiosity and boredom. That has remained true since he was a young boy. Now that he¡¯s successfully Assimilated his Well, however, I am sure he has power that rivals the gods.¡±


    ¡°Surely you talk big because you trained him.¡± I laughed, beckoning the attention of the nobles scattered throughout our booth.


    ¡°I only taught the boy the fundamentals of elemental manipulation and how to use his sorcery.¡± Ev spat in a way that suggested he was nothing but serious. ¡°He was given a single tome to learn, Azrael''s spell. When he was ten, I taught him lesser necromancy, made him and his vassals the Tower¡¯s executioners, and had him fight the Necro Army for four years. I also trained them in the ways of both paladins and barbarians. Paltry things when compared to what he has achieved on his own. His prowess is a product of his innate talent coupled with his years of hard work. Nothing more.¡±


    ¡®The Tower¡¯s executioner, eh?¡¯ I internally grinned as I pulled as much mana as I could allow to form a golem. ¡°Then, this should be very interesting indeed.¡±


    Upon reclining into my throne, I turned on a whim to gaze through to the adjacent booth, wherein I saw Grandmaster Gysil Vilignin perched on the edge of her seat, anxiously shaking her legs while she intently watched Amun enter the arena with an all-too-casual air.


    ¡°Very interesting indeed.¡±

 65 - Destroyer

    Grandmaster Gysil Vilignin.


    ***


    Amun.


    Nearly ten years had passed since I first heard the name. And another five had gone by until I heard it for the second time. Both were in passing from Headmaster Knagh and his mentions of correspondence with the Necro King. Nothing more than one-sided messages, really. All but demanding that Magus Everandus Cole¡¯s position at the academy be reinstated later down the line while he boasted about his genius of a great-grandson in the same breath. The half-drow, half-royal heir of the House of Cole, Amun of Odissi.


    Since long before I first met him as a young Arcane Warrior, the Necro King had been infamous for being a fox in a bear''s hide. Only saying what was needed for one to get a general sense of his point with no hope for further details or comments to come later. Especially when such things were needed the most. He was a jokester. Immature. Full of shit. As such, I only grew more and more eager to see the Grand Duke¡¯s prowess with my own eyes as the years passed. And finally, I had my chance.


    Patience is a virtue, as they say.


    Visually, Amun appeared more like his father, Emeric, than the Necro King. Their visages were all the same, of course, but their proportions couldn¡¯t have been any different. Magus Everandus Cole was a massive mound of muscle, bone, and sorcery standing as tall as I, a pure-blooded Amazonian, and twice as wide. A side-effect of his pervasive perks and half of the same strong blood flowing through my veins, I¡¯ve come to learn over the decades; otherwise, he¡¯d have retained the same slender build as his descendants.


    At 1.7 meters and 68 kilos sopping wet, however, Amun was neither as tall nor as defined as even his father. A result of the Fae running through his blood, his family assured us time and time again. A claim we had no choice but to blindly accept since the only ones here to be graced with the presence of elves in the last few centuries was the Iron Magus and the House of Cole themselves. On the other hand, witnessing the power of Arcana was something I had a fair amount of experience with. Though, seeing it wielded by a human was something I never thought I¡¯d see in all my days. Half-human though he was.


    As always, the Grand Duke of Odissi had a blatant flair of boredom and disinterest throughout Law¡¯s explanation of the order of operations. He simply stared and rarely blinked, though he always answered or responded without delay. Even after the golem spurred to action with three bullet spells in one-second intervals, that flair persisted, and with hardly a motion or influx of mana, the shadow of each spell darkened to an illogical degree. Three maws of writhing tendrils and ink-black hands silently manifested beneath or around the bullets and proceeded to grasp and drag each spell to the depths. Then turned their sights on the golem, ripping its flesh asunder before it too sank into the forsaken realm of legend only the House of Cole House.


    All in less than a few seconds.


    ¡°Next is Necrotic Sorcery,¡± Idonea announced to our subordinates while the golem was reformed. Though, no one could listen, as we all felt a sudden, inexplicable shift in the mana around Amun before the newly formed golem attacked.


    Contrarily, Amun stood in the face of tar, lava, and iron without as much as shifting his posture, all for the sake of displaying his affinity with death to the rest of us.


    Or so we assumed.


    Most of the magical tar, lava, and iron that¡¯d been thrown at him simply rebounded or deflected away upon impact, yet forced him back all the same. Scarring his chest and face with simmering and glowing splotches and scuff marks. Still, Amun didn¡¯t grimace in pain or anger, nor did he counterattack in any way. He phlegmatically stood there and healed the scars and bruises covering his body with necromancy, flooding the coliseum with the potent stench of death as a consequence. I watched every spine in the room straighten and subsequently shudder forward into a hunched posture as a result. Just as mine did.


    As a Grandmaster Mage, it was both a miraculous sight and feeling to behold. Throughout my career, I faced the foulest creatures imaginable and had walked the line with death more times than I could count. Like many others before me, I grew to think I¡¯d grown familiar with that feeling after a time; the Shadow of Death. Naturally, such lines of thinking ceased once I met one who commanded such a thing. The Necro King.


    As far as I understood, the House of Cole''s power resided in their blood. Many have speculated the source of their power to be of draconic, primordial, cosmic, or even divine origins. But all that was agreed was that they were the oldest lineage of sorcerers in all the Mortal Plane. More have speculated that not even the Necro King was aware of the source of his power. That it was an enigma lost to time, ironic as that may seem, being as they were the only ones who could ask the ancients themselves.


    What was factual, was that whatever it was that dwelled in their blood made them a part of both the Shadow Realm and the Underworld. And more so than they were a part of the physical plane. Destruction was their birthright. Undead saw them as sovereigns. Devils looked to them as leaders. They held every dark power of destruction one could imagine. Poison. Corruption. Curses. Deals. And now, the void. But even that was tame in comparison to the most fundamental aspect of their sorcery: it allowed those malevolent, extra-planar energies to enter the physical plane.


    And the effects were not pleasant.


    To that end, feeling the Necro King¡¯s mana was nothing like feeling the shadow of death. It was like being forced to gaze upon the gates of the underworld as they peered ajar just enough for the gelid winds to whip a plague of sorrowful whispers into one¡¯s mind. It was a truly pervasive energy that invoked a primal feeling in the heartiest of warriors. I could never mentally prepare for it, block it out, or evade it entirely. But I grew accustomed to it with time all the same.


    What I was feeling now, however, finally made me realize that not even passing would make me familiar with the Underworld. The negligible sliver of death Amun withdrew to heal himself served to open the gates entirely before my eyes, if only for a moment; forcing the grayed landscape of screaming, clashing souls that expanded at Infinitum into my mind¡¯s eye for an eternal second.


    I snapped back to reality after what felt like an eternity of fighting and dying to see Amun, casually approaching the golem with his hand stretched out before him.


    At the slightest touch, the lava flowing within the golem¡¯s eye sockets rapidly cooled, then cracked into a web of crumbling stone that cascaded down the igneous and iron body. Within seconds, the entire construct decayed into a billowing pile of dust and rust. Evoking a long period of bewildering silence that continued as the Grand Duke went on to display his next ability.


    ¡°Void sorcery,¡± Idonea muttered after steeling herself.


    If I hadn¡¯t been focusing my eyes, I¡¯d have missed the abyssal black streaks that sprawled across Amun¡¯s body just before the first bullet made contact. Much to everyone¡¯s bewilderment, the center of each bullet simply disappeared on contact, leaving the edges of each spell to continue unabated behind him as if two smaller bullets had been thrown out instead. Then, with a simple hand gesture, he created a mind-bogglingly black plate next to the golem and swept it across its flesh. Erasing the golem, the golem¡¯s magic, and the ground it was standing on with naught a sound or hint of resistance.


    After a long, long moment passed, the period of horrific silence was broken by Dutch¡¯s astonished low whistle. ¡°Three affinities from a single hereditary core. Therein lies the power of a sorcerer.¡±


    I snorted softly at the remark. Not out of contemptuousness or even amusement, but nostalgia. There had been a time when every mage in this room said something similar, including myself. As Grandmaster, seeing the torch be passed to Dutch and Skye overjoyed my heart, for the lessons such a sight yielded were far greater than anything I or anyone else could teach. Here and now, they¡¯d been humbled and made to realize that even with their tremendous power, they could be outmatched and outclassed at a moment''s notice.


    ¡°Next on the list is¡­ Gravity Magic.¡± Idonea stated. Followed by her muttering. ¡°Whatever that is.¡±


    Without removing my eyes from the young half-drow who was, in turn, studying the reforming golem with a curious eye, I said. ¡°It¡¯s one of the spells he keeps active.¡±


    ¡°Active as in¡­ constantly?¡± Skye hesitantly asked.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t sense it?¡± Lia laughed in her usual dry manner. ¡°Two spells activate every time his ring comes off. Three if he¡¯s floating around as he does. It''s that third one. And one of the first two.¡±


    ¡°He canceled it for a split second to let the bullets hit him.¡± Yolanda monotonously added.


    ¡°Ah.¡± Skye rocked backward in understanding. ¡°You think it¡¯s powerful?¡±


    ¡°We shall soon find out.¡± I leaned ever forward as the potent stream of mana ceased its flow from the perch adjacent to ours, eventually forcing my legs to support my weight more so than the seat behind me. A mere inconvenience when compared to waiting.


    After a few eternal seconds, the construct threw out its triage of bullet spells. And Amun¡¯s reaction all but verified my assumptions. Or rather, his lack thereof.


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    As before, each bullet spell was fired at low intensity at one-second intervals. The head-sized mass of tar taking point sailed true to within five meters of Amun before it inexplicably lurched upward, diverting its trajectory just enough to fly over Amun¡¯s head and splat harmlessly against the far wall. Similarly, the iron bullet jolted after crossing Amun¡¯s low-powered domain and continued on at an odd angle toward the ceiling. Followed in tune by the lava bullet being pulled away from its target and sent away to crash dangerously close to our viewing booth.


    Following the same motions as his opponent, Amun flicked a mass of the deep purple mana at the golem. Being no larger than the tip of his middle finger, the gravity bullet crossed the twelve meters between them in a flash, seeming to assimilate with the golem on contact. Then came the most morbidly fascinating sight I''ve ever witnessed.


    The strange energy pulled at every fiber of its being from the inside. The arms, legs, and head, all forcibly curled and cracked inward, slamming into the torso in an ear-piercing cacophony of wrenched iron and crushed stone. In the end, a smooth sphere of igneous rock and iron was all that remained of the golem, floating at eye level until the mana wore off, wherein it fell to the ground with a resounding thud.


    I and countless others were at a complete loss of words. For many reasons, I assumed. For me, it was the potential behind this¡­ gravity magic. From the remains of the golem that had just fallen, the bullet spells from before, and the curious way Amun flew around, I could deduce that his ability revolved around falling. A seemingly innocuous power, at first glance, but one that I was sure could break the world.


    For his electromagnetic demonstration, Amun sent out twin flashes of lightning towards the lava and tar bullets whilst simultaneously gripping the iron bullet in a magnetic embrace to then sling it back at the golem. And without pause, he began whipping up a violent tempest of mana behind him, invoking a sense of deja vu in everyone present. Just as we felt and saw a few days prior, a massive concentration of arcana was concentrated before being released in a perpetual stream of lightning. Seeing it up close and personal, however, was a much different story.


    It was like the tamed breath of a blue or bronze dragon, the way it lashed out at the construct. A veritable pillar of crackling blue, it was, although it seemed as if it was forced through space via a conduit, the way the energy curved to meet its melting target. Almost as if it were alive and wished to waste no energy on the surrounding stone. Even after the golem was obliterated, the crackling streams arced between the spreading shards of inorganic flesh until the spell tapered out minutes later. Leaving molten pieces of slag strewn about the deafened arena.


    His next magic was the most obscure of all and the object of almost everyone¡¯s eye. To have any type of spatial magic was rare. Any type of temporal magic was even rarer. I¡¯ve only ever seen Clerics or Warlocks gaining a fraction of such power through mutations or divine intervention. Having them both in a single affinity core was unheard of, as far as I was aware.


    Like before, Amun stayed still while the spells made their way to them. Canceling one of the low-powered domains he kept around him was his only action as the bullets made their way to him, only to halt in place five meters before him. Or so it seemed. Upon closer inspection, however, the spells were still spinning. They appeared to still be flying, even while they remained suspended in the air, flinging bits of tar, iron, and lava out to their sides as if they had to cross an immeasurable distance to reach him. Then, with but a flick of his finger, a speck of the same energy flew out toward the golem, causing it to rust and decay on the spot just as it did with his necromancy.


    A perceptible tension rose in the air as the Iron Magus reached his mana down to repair the golem. I and everyone else present was more than anxious to see the final affinity in action. His void magic had been long anticipated, that was true. And his gravity and electromagnetic affinities were a large topic of interest amongst all the spectators, but with the instance from the other day and Amun¡¯s incessant use of the former to navigate, it was easy to make conjectures on the nature of those abilities. As was the case with space-time magic, being as self-explanatory as it was. Nuclear Magic, however, was something no one had even heard of. Not the high societies of Vagua or the expansive labyrinths beyond the White Wall were even privy to such information. Perhaps not even the mysterious elves of Youtera, I was certain. Thus, I felt extremely fortunate to witness such an esoteric affinity with my own eyes.


    Much to my dismay, however, my eyes were forced away just after the golem sent out its attack. I saw Amun send out a bullet spell in his usual manner. Then everything in sight froze to a standstill. Amun; his outstretched hand; the golem; the mages around me; they all remained in my vision even as I recoiled in shock. Burned. Singed the image was, into my very eyes from the light what felt like a star and what came to look like a withering explosion contained within a domain.


    When it finally waned, only a molten crater could be seen where the golem was just standing, eliciting a roar of applause and conjecture in every booth. Even ours, for the most part. But where my mages made comments, I paid close attention to the mana pouring into the spell the two Magus¡¯ were preparing. As explained before, the Necro King would initially put enough necrotic energy into the golem to make it sentient, effectively turning it into a necromental. The necromental¡¯s power would then be increased with a soul of some type. Though that itself was the very question in my mind.


    Although I couldn''t hope to see souls or even feel the difference between them, I could tell they empowered the necromental far beyond the level needed to challenge any platinum-grade initiate. Yet even then, I could tell that they didn¡¯t even come close to matching the potency of Amun¡¯s magical abilities. His physical prowess on the other hand...


    ¡°Ensure you pay close attention. And do not blink.¡±


    Following my advice, I began concentrating ambient mana around my eyes and ears. In turn, my mind shifted its senses away from the sudden spikes in mana around me to hyper-focus on the hulking behemoth hunching forward on its knees. With my eyes focused to their near limit, I saw every minute detail of the necromental''s pounce. It erupted with the strength of a manticore, yet it seemed as slow as a sloth''s reach. The ground where it stood cracked into a web of stone while the massive creature itself streaked straight to Amun. Even then, I failed to see Amun flick out a gravity bullet spell. I only saw him slowly lowering his arm and watching in awe as the necromental¡¯s quaking steps grin to a sudden but gradual stop. It managed a swing before it was forced back a step. Then tumbled, somersaulted over the ground, and halted itself by gripping the stone tiles as if it were a crevice in a cliff face.


    In lieu of its efforts, the necromental¡¯s purchase waned and eventually gave out. And so the hulking mass plummeted towards the cove-like opening of the coliseum; all but finishing the display, in my mind, until a sudden spike of mana struck my senses, and the golem disappeared entirely. Only to reappear before the viewing box in the far wall in the next instant.


    We stood in horrified awe before our minds registered what we subconsciously knew and began to brace only after the necromental¡¯s full size loomed before our window. I, myself began to spread a domain, only for the area before our booth to distort and tear just before the creature impacted. The room itself seemed to sigh in relief as much the same scene repeated before our eyes, with the only difference being the similar portal on the far side. Effectively creating a loop for the thrashing necromental to fall through and through at a rapid blur. It was quite the sight for the crowd. I, however, couldn¡¯t help but feel slighted. Especially after refocusing my sensing and becoming aware of the impertinent wrapped around Amun¡¯s face.


    After a few seconds, Amun flicked his fingers again to reposition the portal before us to the ceiling whilst simultaneously closing its mirror. Naturally, the necromental had no choice but to plummet into the arena in a land-shattering impact. With the amount of raw mana empowering it, however, the foul thing rebounded without issue and lunged through the smoke with a wide swing to Amun¡¯s side, eliciting a loud exclamation from the crowd.


    That exclamation turned to wonder once the necromental¡¯s fist followed through with no bits of blood or fabric attached to it. All of us, myself and the enchanted glass we were watching through, searched the arena for Amun¡¯s position until we saw the monster lunge toward the opposite side. Enhancing my senses beyond their limit, I turned my attention to see Amun at the eastern edge, staring at the wall as if he were staring out at the sea on a relaxing night. He just stood there, even as the necromental came in from overhead to shatter the ground on which he stood. Then, like the rest of us, the sentient chunk of inorganic material searched the reforming area for Amun. Only for us to simultaneously avert our attention several meters away to see Amun, casually walking towards the center of the arena.


    With a lava-spewing roar, the necromental spun about, lunged, and again assaulted his afterimage, this time with a thick stream of rock, iron, and lava. Yet, just like before, an unscathed Amun appeared just a few meters away, walking as if he were strolling through a market. Naturally, that enraged the necromental to a degree of absurdity. It began attacking without pause, producing more craters, chasms, and lava puddles with each attempt at smashing, pummeling, and destroying not just Amun, but everywhere he could be. And yet in spite of its efforts, the seemingly fragile Initiate all but skipped through space without any inconvenience as he made his way to the center.


    As miraculous as it was, I could only feel that this display was intended to be a message to us organizers of this assessment. A message that said this challenge was weak, boring even. I¡¯d seen countless messages of a similar nature, over the years. Mostly by those who couldn¡¯t back up their claims, but a shining star could be found on occasion. Though, even those stars found themselves humbled by bigger stars after enough time. If I were to judge this star from what I¡¯d seen thus far, though, I''d say that out of everyone I knew, there was only one or two handfuls worth of individuals capable of outshining him. And of them, three of them dwelled in Maru. As humbling and embarrassing as it was to admit, I was not one of them. Even with my senses focused beyond their limit, I struggled to keep up with Amun casually skipping through space with a not-so-humble grin.


    My frustrations and amazement rose to an all-time high when he disappeared entirely, forcing us to search the arena for his position once again until we felt a spike of mana coming from above.


    Craning my head, I saw him¡­ standing on the ceiling, cradling something in his arms. A shift or flicker then fell about his frame before it disappeared around his feet, cast into shadow by another lava stream ejected by the necromental. Unconcerned in the slightest, Amun kept his attention on the ground as he grasped onto the ambient mana and sweep his arm aside, ripping the spell apart mid-air. Following his focus brought me to the strangest sight. A black, red-eyed rabbit dashing madly towards the necromental. With its attention focused on Amun, however, the beast paid the little creature no mind and thus remained unaware of the rabbit maneuvering into its shadow.


    Though it was hard to see, its flesh began to bulge and bulk grotesquely until it was around twice its original size. Then, one became two, two became four, and the process continued unabated until the necromental finally noticed their presence. But by then, it was too late. Rabbits of pure darkness crawled over its arms and legs, ripping chunks of stone and iron from its limbs while others burrowed into the chest cavity. Some died from their efforts. Yet, like the undead, there was always another to stomp over their ashes and burrow a little further. All the while chased by the swarming sea of umbral bunnies, jumping over each other to tear at the remains until nothing was left of the necromental, wherein the army of gloom turned their gaze upward to the half-drow standing on the ceiling.


    Grand Duke Amun of Odissi.

 66 - Deliberations

    With Amun¡¯s demonstration complete, a long period of awed silence spread throughout the coliseum. That silence continued long after he made his exit and abruptly came to an end an indiscernible time later when the air itself was shocked with a wave of cheers, praise, and applause aimed not only at Amun but towards each demonstration we¡¯ve seen tonight. While I did my part in adding to the noise, I paid close mind to the mages, guild officials, soldiers, nobles, and royals giving their opinions or remarks to make a mental note of them all and set them aside for later.


    The others hung around for a little while after Law walked off to dismiss the Initiates I, however, stayed put to mentally replay what I¡¯d just seen. It went without saying that we were given the show we were all anticipating. Each of Amun¡¯s affinities was truly something to behold, but his knowledge of their natures and the ways he applied them was what truly astounded me. To have developed such a suite of spells in just a tenday was impressive, to say the least. And then there were his rabbits. Clearly a summon of some type; though, strange as it was, I had a strong feeling it was an otherwise normal rabbit rather than a denizen of the Shadow Realm. A rabbit that¡¯d been corrupted by his sorcery and thus turned into a magical creature bound to his will.


    ¡®Do you have more, I wonder?¡¯


    Judging from the mixed reactions of the Necro King and his grandson, it was clear one disapproved and the other was overjoyed. Not much of a surprise for the former, as High King Everandus Cole was infamous for his unrelenting usage of necromancy and thus rarely used the shadows. As for the latter, he wasn¡¯t exactly famed for his prowess in battle. That wasn¡¯t to say Archduke Emeric Cole was weak. Quite the contrary, in fact. Everyone in his Empire and beyond knew that he too held the power hidden within the House of Cole¡¯s blood. Unlike his son and grandfather, however, he seldom unleashed his power. And so his true potential was a mystery to us all. It was quite the auspicious dichotomy if one were to take into account the aura that made everyone walk on eggshells around the man. It seemed like not a single soul in all the realms wanted to make him angry. Perhaps for good reason.


    I rose from my seat after an hour with my conjectures and analyzations complete to return to our lodging and gather each proctor¡¯s reports. As I somewhat expected, they were gathered around the table like animals, stuffing food into their jaws while rattling on about the Initiates'' performances.


    Or, most of them were.


    I took the mass of papers from Law before making a detour, shifting my mind into a motherly state and sitting down next to my girls.


    Like me and Katia and Irini and Idonea, Sicilia Velasco and Yolanda Tubs were raised as sisters in the slum city of Gray Peak. Looking at them now felt just the same as when I gazed upon them back then. They were polar opposites in most ways, and yet like twins in all the ways that mattered. Both were sociable, but Yolanda drove strangers away due to her sometimes off-putting demeanor. Both were intelligent, but only Lia received an education; if hardly any. Both were mentally strong and contained immense potential, but Lia was petite and started out with a fear of fighting while Yolanda was huskier, sickly, and enjoyed the fight but was frail. Most importantly, they both had Amazonian blood. While in only half proportions, they retained our night vision and elemental resilience but were lacking in our strength and stature. Despite that, they retained not only the culture that dwelled in our blood but our dreams as well.


    As of today, they were on the cusp of becoming Magi on the large scale, and have ascended the internal ranks of the Association without the aid of an affinity core. An accomplishment that could bring about despair in her superiors, just as much if not more so than pride.


    ¡°How unbecoming of me,¡± Velasco snorted. ¡°To be nearly killed by a fifteen-year-old.¡±


    ¡°To be fair, you almost killed him, despite your handicap.¡± I meekly shrugged. ¡°But-¡±


    ¡°Almost means death in battle, I know.¡± She solemnly sighed. Though, there was something else hidden within that gesture. Admiration, I assumed. Or desire, maybe. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­¡± Velasco sighed again. ¡°A part of me wants to see him again.¡±


    ¡°A natural reaction,¡± I assured her. ¡°We desire the strong.¡±


    She quickly shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s not that, Madam. When we see him again- when he returns to Maru, if what they say about him is true, our dream will finally be in our sights.¡±


    ¡°While true.¡± I sighed. ¡°It¡¯s a shame we have to entrust our dreams to an outsider.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, madame.¡± Lia gestured to the papers in my hand. ¡°He¡¯ll point out the motherland for us. Nothing more.¡±


    ¡°So you say.¡± I smiled reaffirming, then departed for my office.


    After placing myself behind my desk, I took a moment to transition back into my business state of mind and attempt to throw away my biases for the time being. Only then did I carefully read through each report, make annotations where I thought necessary, and summarize the information in my mind before retrieving the new tool we¡¯d been issued from my satchel.


    Like the Grand Duke of Odissi, the rune-etched shard of silver flowed with arcane mana. Compliments of the new Magus and administrator of the Association. An old soul like me was still used to familiar-based communications. As such, I felt like an utter fool while preparing myself to speak as clearly and professionally as I could to an inanimate object.


    Just as I¡¯d been instructed, I fueled my voice with mana and set the receiver by saying. ¡°Arcane Mage Katia Garaki.¡± In turn, the enchantment responded with a subtle hum along with a silver-white glow. Then, I recited my message. ¡°Grandmaster Mage Gysil Vilignin, 5th Marulean Division Commander, reporting on assessment one-four-nine-zero. The number of Deapouan and Odissian citizens to attempt core awakening: one-hundred nine thousand four hundred eighteen. The number of successfully awakened initiates; one thousand, one hundred ninety. The number of candidates eligible and willing to enroll at the Bodhi Tree: Six. Their reports are as follows.


    ¡°Item one. Name, Lucia Pike. Mana well; Ice, twelfth grade. Intellect; thirty-eight. Strength; twenty-five. Constitution; twenty-two. Agility; thirty-seven. Dexterity; thirty-nine. Combat Ability; forty-nine. Elemental Proficiency; forty-two. Most proficient element; Earth. Magical Assessment; fifty. My remarks are as follows: Lucia Pike showed no signs of hesitation during her assessment and displayed mastery over the basics of her magical affinities. Her match proceeded with flawless gracefulness, yet needed some fine-tuning to be brought to its full potential. Regardless, her engagement against a necromental powered by the soul of an orc was over in mere moments. Her spells are rudimentary and basic in nature, but with training, she can ascend to a higher realm of magical ability. Total score: three-hundred two.¡±


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    I allowed myself a pause before continuing, fluidly this time, as I¡¯d now worked myself into a groove and overcome the silly feeling of speaking into this thing. ¡°Item two. Jaimess A. Corey. Mana well: Ice grade, tenth grade. Intellect: forty-eight. Strength: twenty-eight. Constitution: twenty-nine. Agility: thirty-nine. Dexterity: thirty-nine. Combat Ability: forty-nine. Elemental Proficiency: fifty. Most proficient element: Earth. Magical Assessment: fifty. My remarks are as follows: Jaimess is an Initiate with a non-combative occupation. Yet, he is far more capable than one would assume based on that aspect alone. First and foremost, it must be noted that he holds complete mastery of elemental manipulation; furthermore, Jaimess¡¯ display makes one rethink the supposedly harmless affinities one may come across in life, as seen by the use of his paper magic to not only defend but to attack with a swarm of creatures born from folded paper. Additionally, he displayed extensive knowledge of his paper, carbon, and silicon magic and has shown a level of mastery that enabled him to form materials one would not think possible. Such as his instance in creating paper shields, quartz, and even diamond. While he is physically fit, his weakness lies in his overall strength. After mitigating that weakness, Sir Corey will surely become a well-rounded force to be reckoned with. Total score: three hundred thirty-two.


    ¡°Item three.¡± I sighed. ¡°Name: Edward Pascal. Mana well: Ice, ninth grade. Intellect: forty-nine. Strength: twenty-five. Constitution: twenty-four. Agility: thirty-nine. Dexterity: forty. Combat Ability: forty-five. Elemental Proficiency: fifty. Most proficient element: Air. Magical Assessment: fifty. Personal remarks are as follows: Despite being another non-combative Initiate, Edward displayed no signs of hesitation against a necromental and displayed mastery of not only his elemental practice but of his magical abilities as well. While his assault against his opponent was indeed one-sided and he showed an aptitude for a destructive position in any military or guild, Ed¡¯s magic appeared to be the most useful for crafting, aligning with his profession. However, he has found a way to merge his knowledge of crafting with combat, given the way he cemented the necromental''s to the floor before finishing it off in one powerful blow. Total score: three hundred twenty-two.


    I took a break for a long sip of water before continuing and sighed in relief at being halfway through; still, I could only curse the powers that be for enacting such a system in the first place.


    ¡°Item four. Name, Toril O¡¯Connell. Mana well: diamond grade, eighth grade. Intellect: forty-seven. Strength: forty-three. Constitution: forty-seven. Agility: fifty. Dexterity: fifty. Combat Ability: fifty. Elemental Proficiency: fifty. Most proficient element: Fire. Magical Assessment: fifty. My remarks are as follows: In the whole of Maru, Toril O¡¯Connell is without a doubt the most capable knight to take this year¡¯s assessment. He is capable of becoming the center of power in any unit he finds himself within. And he has the potential to rise to the level of an elite combat specialist. Most impressive was his display of situational awareness and power control, seen when he negated the risk of collateral damage by the containment of his own wide-reaching attack. My immediate impression was that with his application of magic, his opponent was effortlessly overpowered. Leaving him without a challenge. With training, he will only grow stronger. Though like others gifted with such talent, I fear he may find himself with an inflated ego. Thus bringing about the need for a mentor of wisdom. Total score: three hundred eighty-seven.¡±


    ¡°Item five. Name, Roheisa Deapou. Mana well: diamond, twelth grade. Intellect: twenty-nine. Strength: forty-eight. Constitution: forty-nine. Agility: twenty-six. Dexterity: twenty-eight. Combat Ability: fifty. Elemental Proficiency: forty-one. Most proficient element: Earth. Magical Assessment: fifty. My remarks are as follows- Roheisa displayed expertise in all her magical affinities and showcased a particularly powerful reinforcement spell that allowed her to physically fight a demon soul necromental toe to toe. Like Toril before her, the golem stood not a chance in the face of her magical onslaught and was reduced to a similar pile of rubble upon completion of her assessment. In short, she showed the unmerciful nature that the Iron Magus was infamous for. Though she remains hotheaded and naive. Total score: three hundred twenty-one.¡±


    ¡°Item six.¡± I sighed in a mixed mess of relief, glee, and pride. Finally, I could finish my report and take some much-needed time off. More so, I couldn¡¯t help but feel like countless others as I shared what I¡¯d witnessed with the realm.


    ¡°Name.¡± I beamed with newfound vigor. ¡°Amun. Mana well: Arcane, eighteenth grade. Intellect: fifty. Strength: twenty-nine. Constitution: fifty. Agility: fifty. Dexterity: fifty. Combat Ability: fifty. Elemental Proficiency: fifty. Most proficient element: Air. Magical Assessment: fifty. Remarks are as follows: First and foremost, let it be known that Amun is only half-human. His nature as a half-drow grants him an agile body beloved by mana; one we struggled to properly assess. While his body is naturally fragile as a result, Amun displayed a level of pain tolerance and mental fortitude only a sorcerous necromancer could hold. This allowed him to not only remain conscious but remain willing to fight long after he should have been incapacitated. Such weaknesses are naturally made up for with his magical abilities, potent enough to allow him to toy with an empowered necromental; but even without them, Amun defeated Staff Sergeant Sicilia Velasco in martial combat.


    ¡°In short.¡± I sighed. ¡°Amun is the most powerful initiate I have ever seen. Yet, he is weakened by his apparent lack of humility on the battlefield. His failure to take his opponent seriously may turn out to be his eventual downfall. He would be wise to rid himself of his habit before it comes longstanding. Total score: three hundred seventy-nine points. As such, Amun, Roheisa Deapou, Lucia Pike, Toril O¡¯Connor, Jaimess Corey, and Edward Pascal have accepted their offers to enroll at the Bodhi Tree. Expect them at Rook Island on the thirtieth of the month.


    With my reports closed out, I ceased the flow of mana to my voice once and for all. In turn, the shard glowed brightly one final time before pulling away from my arm and eventually pried itself free of my grasp to sail out the window towards the southeast.


    "So many things need to change in this realm," I complained to myself. But it was true. Gone were the days when humanity flourished on Maru. Now, we were spread across the Mortal Plane with little hope of contacting each other. Considering they were still alive. Considering his dream, everyone assumed Amun would take up the mantle and do what countless guilds couldn¡¯t. But then, what if his guild became the opposite; I couldn''t help but wonder. If it became a den for thieves, deviants, and degenerates who had no regard for laws or morals, then spread across all of Maru. A frightening situation indeed. If someone as powerful and uncontrollable as Amun were to lose his sanity, few could ever hope to stop him; and even if they did, the aftermath would see the Plane itself ripped asunder.


    Surely a terrifying thought to ponder.


    As such, my excitement soon turned to anxiousness while the dreams that¡¯d been rekindled in my mind were replaced with a thought-provoking question that repeated in my mind without end.


    ¡®What kind of place will you create, Amun? An eternal empire that unites the realm? Or an undying legion that breaks it?¡¯

 67 - Tailor Made

    Giorno Nojo.


    ***


    ¡°You¡¯re late.¡±


    ''This woman.¡¯ I groaned to myself as I shut my door, then turned to see a plump and stout woman standing with her fists on her hips and an impatiently avaricious frown stitched onto her face. ¡°It¡¯s hardly sunrise, Letta. What¡¯s the rush?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the rush?¡± She turned down the corridor with a contemptuous scoff, nearly knocking me upside the head with her bag in the process. ¡°We have one day before we leave the empire for good. We have to get there early if we want the good spots.¡±


    While she indeed had a point, I couldn¡¯t wrap my head around the why behind her acquisitive nature. Growing up poor and in turn desiring wealth was natural. But no one was truly poor in Odissi. At least in the sense of lacking food, clothing, and shelter. Besides that, we were being paid a more than generous wage of hundreds of gold coins a month. We could buy almost anything we wanted in this place; save a few high-end, heavily enchanted goods made from the rarest materials; and yet, Letta Sinclare was all but determined to make as much coin as possible.


    I, however, wasn¡¯t one to pry, so I stayed silent and admired the volcanic views on the way through the guest caldera until I once again became infatuated with the sights within the incredibly spacious commercial hub. It was a caldera in itself, lined around the circumference with tower-esque poplar trees and obsidian water features that harmonized with the subtle sounds of soft music and pre-dawn chatter. Such features served to coerce one¡¯s eyes into surveying the landscape of pavilioned walkways, awninged huts, and oversized navigational signs, in turn forcing upon my nose the pungent pockets of exotic dishes being prepared for the early morning rush.


    Most importantly of all, there were plenty of beautiful ladies roaming the place. Dozens of them. Tall ladies, short ladies, thick ladies, petite ladies. Amazonian ladies. In every skin tone, hair color, and disposition one could ever hope to imagine. As a youthful, soon-to-be-christened Initiate, it was the greatest gallery I could ever hope to find myself in. I was always in close proximity to pretty ladies, of course. But first, I had a strict no-coworker policy I adhered to. Second, I preferred a more¡­ robust and mature woman. Much like His Grace, I¡¯ve come to learn.


    Alas, I had a job to do. So I hopped into the line behind Letta and brought a smoke to my lips while we waited, eliciting an immediate exclamation of disgust from the otherwise passive woman. "You¡¯re going to be a bad influence on His Grace if you keep that up.¡±


    ¡°I, nor anyone in all the realms can influence His Grace into to doing anything he doesn¡¯t already want to do.¡± I snorted out a cloud of smoke.


    ¡°Next!¡±


    Letta¡¯s imminent reply was cut short by the grumpy old man before us. Who, after capturing our attention, continued speaking as if we¡¯d just finished with the formalities. ¡°A booth rental agreement comes with a booth, display cases, an exterior sign, and access to the service facilities. A half-day rental will cost you fifty silver. Add another fifty if you want to stay for the night. Ho-¡±


    ¡°A gold for a full day?¡± Letta spat. ¡°That¡¯s practically robbery!¡±


    I stepped between them at once to not-so-subtly whisper in my ill-manner companion¡¯s face. ¡°Mind your manners, Letta!¡± then, I turned to the man with an offering of two gold coins and an apologetic bow.


    ¡°Keep your coin, Sir. And, thank you.¡± The man bowed back. ¡°Now, as I was saying. You two are given a pass, due to your position as His Grace¡¯s vassals. Simply tell me your names and what wares you are to sell and I shall take care of the rest.¡±


    Much to my dismay, Letta cheekily told him the requested information while he just accepted it without question. A sight that rightly served to sicken me. But I fought it down to speak in the most dignified manner I could muster. ¡°I, Giorno Nojo, am a tailor.¡±


    He stepped away from his podium with nothing more than a few scribbles in his notebook, allowing another to seamlessly take his place while he led us through the tented labyrinth that was the market.


    While I continued to enjoy the bountiful sights wandering around the place, the experience had been veritably ruined by the display I just witnessed. Thus my mind was busy formulating a slew of dialog instead of enjoying the proverbial field of flowers around me. We stopped at the border of the tools department, off to the side and a way down from the entrance. There marked the beginning of the equipment department, starting with a subsection dedicated to field and casual wear or luxury equipment.


    After some kind words to the organizer, I was able to acquire a booth next to Letta. Who was already busy unpacking her things to lay out her wares across the displays. While I took the time to do the same, I also made sure to voice my restrained opinion to her.


    ¡°Listen, Letta,¡± I growled. ¡°I don¡¯t care if you lust after gold for the rest of your days. Be like a dragon for all I care. But I refuse to remain idle while you disgrace His Grace like you just did. Now, I don¡¯t want to cause a scene, so I¡¯ll leave it at that.¡±


    As I half-expected, she remained silent and only continued laying out her wares with her usual cheerful aura. But I¡¯d long since gained the ability to see through her ruse. I could tell my words had fueled the fire within her. Yet the fact that she didn¡¯t act on it could only be taken as a good sign. So I minded my own business and turned to the pile of clothes before me to methodically organize the racks by degrees of formality, then subdivided them by color palate before dividing each rack a final time by size. With that done, I went on to organize my field equipment in the display case before tending to my sign.


    With the paint provided, I stenciled a simple, yet elegant name onto a slab of wood hanging above my little shop. Then stepped back to admire my creation with a prideful eye.


    ¡°JoJo¡¯s Boutique, huh?¡± A voice came from behind me. ¡°I like it. It¡¯s catchy, self-explanatory, and most of all, easy to remember.¡±


    I turned to see a rather¡­ bulbous man standing next to me, grinning as wide as I was as he gazed upon my shop. He wore some strange type of reed shoe that¡¯d been bundled tightly around his feet with no sort of seam to be seen. Offering almost no protection to the hilariously small legs and feet supporting a barrel belly covered in equal parts overalls and beard. Hugging such a wide body was a pair of blubber-coated arms that were just as wide as the rest of him. With hands like balls of dough and fingers like stuffed caterpillars that laid flat across his stomach, even while it bulged in tune with his saying. ¡°Let¡¯s see your wares.¡±


    His voice brought my eyes up to the kind face of an older gentleman, with a skin of freckled sun-kissed sandstone and long white whiskers protruding from his mustache. Though the pride was still present in his smile, it was overshadowed by something I couldn¡¯t quite place; though, I could hardly question it, as the exotic arrangement atop his head stripped me of words after the first glance. His hair, as white as the snow surrounding the Iron Mountain, had been formed to resemble a pair of mandibles or spiked horns protruding from atop his ears. Forming a cradle for a comically small ivy cap.


    ¡°I am Giorno Nojo.¡± I bowed in a welcoming manner after tossing such petty thoughts aside. ¡°In my boutique, you can find everything from casual wear to formal dress, as well as an entire inventory of field attire and equipment.¡±


    He let out a simple grunt to acknowledge my words and continued to run each of his rugged, ringed fingers through the fabric of each piece, pull the racks apart to get a closer view, then pass on to the next piece and repeat. Much the same process continued once he reached the field equipment and went on until he rounded the entire shop, small though it was. With but a few grunts that comically harmonized with his waddling steps, he plucked a few sets from the racks and approached my counter with the same warm, prideful smile as before. ¡°Name¡®s, Nogstag of the Betelle; an'' the G is silent, an'' don''t ya forget!" He suddenly boomed in a strange accent. "I come from a guild of travelin¡¯ merchants. Close ties to the House of Cole. Ya can call me Stag.¡±


    ¡°Well met, Stag.¡± I bowed. ¡°Is this what you have your eye on?¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡± He nodded. ¡°These clothes are stitched rather finely. I¡¯ve yet to see so many pockets in such accessible places, yet, the gear remains nice an'' inconspicuous. A godsend while off of the trails, might I add.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I gasped in feinted surprise. ¡°Are bandits a commonality?¡±


    ¡°Here? No.¡± Stag bellowed with laughter. ¡°Outside the Epethian territories? Ya can bet yer ass! And ravenous beasts ta boot. Though.¡± He leaned over the desk with an admirable chuckle and a sleazy glare in his eye. ¡°Someone like ya won¡¯t haf''ta worry ¡®bout that.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± I nodded in understanding. ¡°I assume you saw my display?¡±


    "That I did.¡± He waved his grub-like finger in affirmation. ¡°Yer severing magic was one of the greatest things I ever seen.¡±


    I knew he was trying to play me. But on account of him being my first customer and managing to turn my mood around, I decided to give him what he wanted. ¡°Tell you what.¡± I waved my finger this time. ¡°With you being my first customer, I¡¯ll give you a twenty percent discount. And if you happen to see yourself needing to be conspicuous in the near future, I would advise you to see my acquaintance across the way.¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± He turned to Letta¡¯s shop with a raised brow and even leaned back to read the sign. ¡°Sinclare¡¯s, huh? Kinda vague.¡± He shrugged, then turned back to me with a resolute nod. ¡°But you sir, are generous. I¡¯ll take ya up on your offer and take a full kit of yer field equipment."


    While I bent down to retrieve the requested items, Stag waddled over to retrieve a few more items and place them on the counter.


    With my pad and vial of ink set, I grasped each item to set it aside while I used my free hand to fill out the invoice, all while studying Stag confirming each item up for purchase.


    ¡°Two short-sleeve field shirts for fifty silver each. Two, long-sleeve field shirts for sixty silver each. Four sets of field trousers for forty silver each. And one field pack, consisting of a traveling bag for eighty silver; canteen; canteen cup, and field chair for twenty silver; and a one-person tent with bedroll and camp cooking set for three gold. With the discount, that brings your total to five gold, four silver, and four copper.¡±


    Despite him handing the coin over without delay or hassle, he maintained a disgruntled disposition and even let out a disappointed sigh after I¡¯d bagged up his clothes and stored them in his bag. ¡°Yer a kid with promise. So, just between us merchants.¡± He grunted. ¡°I''ll tell ya that yer prices are ridiculously low. You could¡¯ve made dozens of gold from that transaction without even haggling. Even more, if you use magic materials and enchantments!¡±


    ¡°Learning to haggle comes later,¡± I assured him with a warm smile. ¡°Right now, I¡¯m learning to network. Slow and steady wins the race, and all that.¡±


    ¡°Right...¡± He nodded slowly, then held up his new bag in his hand before turning towards Sinclare¡¯s with a wave. ¡°At any rate, my son will be as overjoyed as I am with this. Thank you, Giorno Nojo.¡±


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.¡°And thank you, Stag of Betelle!¡± I waved after his retreating shadow. ¡°I hope to see you again someday.¡±


    I doubt he heard me, but my words were nothing but the truth. He was a well-traveled merchant with a veritable bounty of experience and knowledge. It could tell that at a glance. I didn¡¯t seek to learn from him though. Instead, I wanted to learn from Amun and gain my own experience along the way. I wanted to see the millions of cultures implied to be spread across the Plane, take away and add from them and create something entirely new from that wealth of accrued experience. Far down the line, when my long journey was complete. That was when I wanted to reunite with my first customer, Nogstag of Betelle. Only then could we share our differing experiences and truly learn from each other.


    I lit up a smoke and went on to dream about that fated day. To dream, and admire the fine ladies following along with the current produced by the morning rush. I had the pleasure of speaking to some and flirted with each one to come up and purchase my wares at a price no other vendor could compete with. Something that brought me a much larger crowd than I ever could¡¯ve anticipated.


    While it was true I wanted to take things slow, the influx of customers and in turn, profit was something I welcomed with open arms; though, not for the reasons one would expect. I cared more for the experience of being a merchant rather than the life it provided, that much was true; and as Amun said before, we became rich the day we entered his service. As such, my purpose for diving into the world of commerce revolved more around accessibility, rather than profits. I cared about the underdogs, the unfortunate and discarded having clothes on their backs, warm bedding and shelter to sleep in, and the means to cook their own meals. Sell highly to the rich and give freely to the poor, that was my policy. And in the process, I¡¯d meet more interesting people and explore more otherworldly cultures than I could have ever imagined. In turn, my brand would spread across these realms, allowing the cycle of selling high and giving freely to continue until I came upon my inevitable death.


    And then, my Lord would grant me the right of undeath, and I would continue pursuing my dream unto eternity; for I could not imagine him dying.


    Several hours of work passed until midday came around, signaling the end of the morning rush. I was just finishing up with a customer and was preparing to find some lunch when I spotted Amun and the others strolling through the market with their bags in tow. While they were stopped for conversation with the departing customer, I took the opportunity to hand off my amassed wares to my doppelganger.


    Despite the hundreds of times I saw it, I couldn¡¯t help but shudder at the sight of my shadow peeling off the ground to form a pair of night-black hands. How dexterous they were, the way they found the heft sack of coin and grasped onto it, dragging it into my very own umbral pocket. It was both an unforeseen advantage and a disconcerting reality. Always, beneath my feet, was a veritable clone- a twin I had limited control over. That was an advantage in and of itself. Being sentient, however, my Doppelganger would freely choose to do anything I¡¯d naturally do and would refuse to do what I wouldn¡¯t. He was an assistant, a companion, and an ally. He would help me stitch clothes, either alongside me or in that pocket of shadow. He''d train me. He''d protect me. At the same time, however, he was a silent observer who reported my every move from the shadows.


    At least, that¡¯s how it felt.


    Despite the advantages, I was certain Amun only saw the clones as a training device. His placidity towards their existence made that much a certainty, in my eyes. He wasn¡¯t even aware of the spell''s true potential. He was selfish in that way. Something as frustrating as it was admirable, in my eyes.


    ¡°Giorno.¡± The Lord nodded his greetings whilst simultaneously waving Letta over. ¡°Letta, these are for you.¡±


    Without a word, I took the slip of paper and gave it a quick reading. It was¡­ a shopping list. At least, that¡¯s what I could gather before my Lord continued.


    ¡°I need you both to purchase these items before the day after tomorrow. Furthermore.¡± He paused to retrieve two massive piles of various fabrics, all ranging from black to white with a dash of black. ¡°Jaimess has mastered the use of his carbon magic in the sense of creating carbon nanotube fabrics from natural carbon. Giving you an infinite supply of material, so long as we have a source of charcoal. These are either coated in or made from the stuff. I need at least one uniform for each of us by the same deadline.¡±


    I took the time to inspect the material while he was speaking. Thankfully, Jaimess had done all the hard work of spinning thread and weaving fabric, leaving me with a hefty pile of deep black textiles akin to the color of the Lord¡¯s magic. Though the fabric had been weaved into absurdly thin sheets, it remained light and airy enough to almost feel non-existent in my hands, yet, it had a high¡­ tensile strength, I think the term was, as there was no sign of the weaves coming undone no matter how hard I tugged at it. I couldn¡¯t wait to test the Lord¡¯s claims behind the material''s properties and see if they were true. But deep in my heart, I knew they were. Everything he''s said thus far had been true. Thus I couldn¡¯t contain my excitement as I turned back and said. ¡°I¡¯ll get started right away.¡±


    A subtle smirk crept across the Lord¡¯s face as he turned to Letta with a smaller mass of material. ¡°Similarly, we all need proper wristwear and jewelry for our journey."


    ¡°Consider it done, Your Grace.¡± She beamed. Causing a soft boiling in my belly.


    Luckily, my Lord seemed to not notice and instead guided the others deeper into the market. I paid no mind to Letta¡¯s intentions as she retreated to her shop. Instead, I eagerly handed off my material to my clone and tore down my shop. Within a couple of hours, I had my rental agreement closed out and was locked in my room, neck-deep in a pile of freshly dyed material.


    With my working material set aside, I took some time to smoke a smoke and kill my excitement by reading through the list my Lord had given me. As I realized earlier, it was a shopping list requiring me to purchase as many seeds as possible. While fruit and vegetable seeds were naturally on the list, acorns, fungal spores, medicinal herbs, and industrial crops were the priorities. Right under spores and seeds for plants that would give me a main source of materials after being sown. Additionally, I was to buy an assortment of common tools and equipment. Hammers, writing utensils, cooking sets, and a high-end tailor''s set, among other things.


    On the flip side was a strict warning stating this material was for vassal and guild use only. Below that was a reiteration of the material¡¯s properties, described to be incredibly durable- possibly the most durable, non-magical textile in existence. Moreso, its durability was matched only by its flexibility and thermal properties. It would cool when the wearer was hot and preserve heat when the user was cold. On top of that, it was said to enable clothes to be integrated with ''electronics.'' Devices that were similar in nature to enchantments, yet somehow powered by electricity. How that electricity was applied, stored, or much less used by this fabric was my biggest guess, but those questions were removed from the fire to be reserved for a later time.


    Regrettably, though, my smoke was still unfinished. Still, I had ascended to the proper state of mind and so began the long process of visualizing the garb I¡¯d create for my companions.


    It started with taking a mental note of the dyed fabrics surrounding me. Black started as the base, and so it would remain. From there, I bleached one large pile white and another gray to make the sub-bases. Then divided the remaining portions amongst our party and dyed them according to their affinities.


    I decided Toril would have a gray base, with white and lightning-blue accents. Jaimess, on the other hand, would have a charcoal and paper-tan palate while Jonet would have a black, brown, and ice-blue tone to distinguish her from Toril. Similarly, Ed was given a white-on-ashen-gray scheme to differentiate him from Letta¡¯s black and steel-gray theme. Leaving me with a black, gray, and green hue to adopt. But of course, there was the Lord¡¯s wear to think of as well, kept black-on-black as he favored, I had fully intended to make his first and with the finest materials available to me. Still, though, I couldn¡¯t help but feel that it¡¯d be a long time until my Lord wore a full set of my creation. Sure, he wore my clothes for a time, but he hasn''t been seen without his royal garb since he was first seen wearing it. Not that I blamed him. It not only fit him perfectly but was enchanted to do everything my gear couldn¡¯t. I could and did make minimalist boots like the ones he wears, and so too could I make the pants and field jackets in his designs. But enchantments and magical materials both served as the bane of my progression and my immediate goal. I could make anything my Lord asked of me, except powerful, enchanted equipment, frustratingly so.


    I decided long ago that I couldn¡¯t truly call myself Grand Duke Amun¡¯s tailor until I had access to such skills or materials. But I would do everything in my power to try. That consisted of acknowledging and mastering the recreation of everyone¡¯s favored styles. A task that I completed months ago. The Lord¡¯s style was made evident by his garb. The others, however, took months of trial and effort to learn.


    Toril preferred to be free, with his arms and legs exposed and his torse wrapped in plates or furs. Jaimess preferred a mix of casual and formal wear. Dress shirts, slacks, and a rye hat like the one Sir Stag wore; yet altered for ease of movement. Jonet preferred, well¡­ tights. Not in the sense of a leotard. But in the sense of tight leggings that stopped just below the knees to tuck into knee-high boots, coupled with a simple button-up shirt and a hood as an accessory. Ed liked to dress like Jaimess, only with more pockets and slots for tools instead of notepads and pens. And, complimenting her nature, Letta preferred skirts and sun-dresses with deep pockets and frills or hairpins to put in and around her bun; or, if not that, baggy pants paired with a nice shirt. As, in her words, tight pants made her uncomfortable.


    With all that in mind, the last thing to do was to take their palates, favored weapons, styles, and the hardiness of this strange material, merge it with the climate in our destination, and finally combine that into seven outfits that were fashionable enough to tell others who we were with but a glance, but not flamboyantly vibrant enough to draw in every pair of eyes we come across. They needed to be as adaptable as we were. Able to be changed at a moment''s notice to fit any environment the Plane could throw at us. Most importantly, our clothes were required to facilitate our occupations.


    After a long, long period of brooding, I felt as if I finally solved the puddle and excitedly got to work testing out this legendary material, starting with the application of a torch to the fabric. As much as I roasted it, however, it didn¡¯t burn. So I took a pair of scissors to its edge as well as a knife, yet I struggled to cut. I had no way to produce electricity on my own, so I moved along and stitched together a simple shirt, then pulled it over a cloth mannequin for a durability test.


    After plunging at it with a knife, I dumbfoundedly watched as the blade pressed into the padded flesh without penetrating. Forcing a bewildered cackle out of me that seemed to echo through my room. Although it didn¡¯t penetrate, however, I was sure that the attempt would still hurt if it were a living human on the receiving end. Still, the shirt I made was absurdly thin and remarkably light, for it to stop a thrust at full strength truly made it the groundbreaking material it was described to be. Regardless, this particular garment was far too light and flimsy to be of any use to my companions, so I tossed it into the recycling bin and proceeded with the real work.


    It was tedious, but I eventually found the sweet spot of thickness and took the time to go reweave both bundles into newly formed sheets. Once done, I had them arranged alongside an assortment of leather mats, metal or stone accessories, and more bits by around five in the afternoon. And after a break for dinner and a long smoke break, I started the true work.


    While it was hard to cut with steel, the same couldn¡¯t be said for my magic. With it, I could cut anything. Even magic. And with the machine the Lord had Ed make for me, I was able to cut down and sew the strips and pieces into the desired forms in less than no time, allowing me to finish the seven foundations by around midnight.


    An average of one hour per client wasn¡¯t bad, but I was only halfway done. I still had to etch and embroider each set of gear and fabricate their accessories. On top of that, there was the Lord¡¯s shopping list to attend to, as well as the closing ceremony looming on the horizon. With the latter being held around noon, I decided now would be as good a time as any to knock shopping off my to-do list. So I put my twin to work and snuck through the snoring guest house as best I could, only to see the Lord sitting on a rock outside, dragging on a smoke while he gazed upon the night sky with dreamy eyes.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let me disturb you.¡± He chortled without even budging my way.


    Saying nothing, I smiled and gave a respectful bow before turning away with a fresh smoke clenched between my lips.


    Though I tried not to take my time, a large part of me quickly became lost in wonder while another part of me methodically navigated the market to make my purchases. The strange part was, I was aware of it. The entire time, I was in full control of what shop I went to or who I conversed with, and all of them brought me inspiration. The seeds I purchased brought images of their full-grown forms to mind, forcing me to take notes and make impromptu sketches on the spot. The elaborate statues sitting in the background of a shop that sold plates and strips of metal made me think of the exotic armor and tools I¡¯d read about as a boy, impulsing me to order them to be bent into all sorts of elaborate shapes and bends. The tools, machines, enchantments, and kits I bought made me think of the technology described by my Lord. Like electronics, it was described as a tool that did not need magic or mana to operate. Yet, it allowed humans to do what was next to impossible all the same. It allowed for near-instantaneous communication. It enabled one to travel across a realm in less than a day. To do the work of hundreds in mere hours. All without magic.


    By the time my task was complete, my head was filled to the brim with inspiration. Burning, passionate inspiration. At that moment, I saw the precursor to my magnum opus. So I slapped myself to my senses and sprinted back to my room to start over and bring my masterpiece into reality.

 68 - Rights and Titles

    Amun.


    ***


    I stirred from my meditation a few hours before sunrise to hear a blissful silence hanging in the air of our accommodations. A stark contrast from the mad cackles and constant humming of sewing machines vibrating the walls into the late night. Even still, I left my room in favor of lounging about in the backyard to smoke my lungs away and let my mind roam freely. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that this world had analogs for not only tobacco but for the giggle bush as well; only, it was quite hilariously called Burnbud. Regardless, I once again had the means to enjoy my vices any time I wanted. And one day, when I claimed my own land, I had the means to grow them.


    All I needed now was an undead to roll them for me. But again, I wanted my first shadow undead to be something special. I was unsure if there was any significance behind the quality of my first undead minion, but something in my mind told me such was the case. And so, I decided to act on it. That said, I didn¡¯t feel that way towards lesser undead. Skeletons, zombies, mummies, draugr, and the like. Those undead were expendable. As such, I¡¯d long since decided to attach undead units to my vassals to be used as a fighting platoon as well as a source of labor the moment I acquired them. But the mystery of raising them in the first place still remained. My only loophole was the Shadowsteel Reaper. Specifically, the Spectral Blade enchantment within it. With it, I could rip souls from bodies and have them turn into any number of incorporeal entities. Which naturally made it my starting point.


    I couldn¡¯t help but laugh at the irony of my first lesser undead winding up with the same properties as me while my body was flooded with shadow mana. My Wraith Form was by far my most used spell prior to awakening my cores, especially after the hour of darkness I imposed on the island. The resulting Semi-Permanent Wraith Form was both a pleasant surprise and a slight annoyance to me. At first, I thought it was the spell mutation Grandpa Lich mentioned years ago. Only to learn that it was a perpetually active spell that I couldn¡¯t, or didn¡¯t know how to cancel.


    The saving grace happened to be the assessment. The strange ring we were given absorbed the shadow mana inside me and sent it¡­ somewhere, forcing me back into my natural, unpowered state. That in itself served as a source of panic. I would¡¯ve been a little upset if I had been robbed of the Life and Strength I Usurped or if the many souls I saved up had gone down the drain with my shadow mana. Luckily, my Aegis and Burning souls seemed to be as innately integrated into my flesh as my Usurped Life and Strength, even though the former pair of spells were never intended to be that way from the beginning. Breaking the dam on a cascade of new questions. However, those questions were gathered up and swept away by a long drag and an exaggerated exhalation of billowing smoke.


    "What to do, what to do?" I muttered.


    Giorno and Letta. Jonet too, but her task required her and only her to be aware of the specifics of her operation. All I needed to know was that she understood what I needed her to do, and more importantly, that she was willing to do it. Both of those had been affirmed without a fraction of a doubt the night I talked to her. Which left the other two to think about.


    As I explained to them, I wanted them to settle in a poor, backwoods place in Epethia. Preferably far from the royal capital or any other relatively powerful city-states. Learning to haggle and sell for a profit in a market was a good skill to have, but creating an economy where there was none was a greater experience. Not only that but uplifting a settlement over the course of a few years would serve to gather hundreds, potentially thousands of allies before our return. Allies that would one day become citizens within the empire. Thus with that in mind, I wrote down a few requirements for the future city-state before settling in front of a triage of empty notebooks and a vial of ink to begin transcribing.


    Feeling no need to continue practicing my penmanship, I quickly copied everything I thought a city of mine would need in this roughly Renaissance-era world. The things one would expect, of course: medicine, germ theory, and sanitation. Greenhouses, aquaponics, hydroponics, aeroponics, and permaculture practices. City planning, engineering, industry, and architecture. And most importantly, military science. While it was more or less familiar for Letta and Giorno, the books would serve as invaluable tools and reference points for those they settled alongside.


    The time I¡¯d spent pondering and writing became apparent with the blazing sun cresting over the Cast Iron Summit. Though it was long past morning, it was the first time I stopped to gaze upon a sunrise in this universe. My harsh aversion to light would force a cold shudder down my spine at the mere thought of it. Naturally, however, my electromagnetic affinity made that a thing of the past. With access to electric and magnetic fields, I had immunity to not only electricity but to all types of EM radiation. Gamma rays, x-rays, UV and infrared light, as well as radio waves. But most importantly, light. In all, light and all powers affiliated with the void; heat and cold, poison, and electricity had no effect on me. Yet, strangely, I could still catch fire or be frozen. That aside, I could see in total darkness and had senses humans could only dream of. Most importantly of all, I was the most beloved by mana, granting me a natural defense against magical attacks.


    In other words, the only vulnerability that I had was physical damage. That and acid, I supposed. A being blessed by the creator indeed.


    ''But, at what cost,'' I couldn''t help but wonder.


    My thoughts were cut short by a sudden cacophony of excitement coming from inside.


    While I was one to brood in the silence of the night while everyone else was sleeping, I wasn¡¯t one to brood in a far corner while everyone else socialized. So I hopped down for my perch to step inside. As I¡¯d seen many times before, the many different personalities I was still getting to know were on full display around a table filled to the brim with hearty dishes. To no surprise, Letta and Giorno were missing. Though their presence could still be noticed by the silent curses and thunderous snoring looming from above. Jaimess and Jonet were sitting across from each other as they often did as of late, exchanging a silent conversation while Toril and Ed chattered away about the assessment and what lies ahead.


    I got through the majority of my lunch before their conversation shifted my way. Toril, in his eagerness to measure his strength against mine, inquired about my performance during the assessment. To which I replied. ¡°I¡¯m unsure of the metrics of our grading. But, I at least know that all of you are undoubtedly in the platinum range.¡±


    ¡°You think so?¡± Ed meekly chuckled as he rubbed his head.


    ¡°I know so.¡± I nodded. ¡°Each of you has poured blood, sweat, and tears into climbing where you are today. You¡¯re easily the most capable Initiates seen at this assessment.¡±


    They all displayed varying degrees of cheerful embarrassment in response to my compliment, quite a hilarious sight indeed, but not as funny as seeing their meekness change to unbridled excitement in response to a certain someone banging on the door as if a warrant was being served.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been summoned.¡±


    Roheisa¡¯s overbearing, demanding voice broke through the room as soon as Ed pulled the handle a millimeter. With nothing more than a welcoming bow, Ed pivoted on his heels to trot upstairs and wake up the other two. Followed by the rest of them going to retrieve their things. Leaving the Princess to turn her expectant gaze to me for some mind-numbing small talk.


    ¡°Good day to you too, Princess.¡± I rose from my seat with a sigh.


    She gave a soft, mocking smile in response before she stepped out the door. I was in step beside her not long after, enjoying a companionable silence and the views of the alpine forest for what I was sure would be the last time in a long while.


    ¡°I heard you used a summon during your assessment.¡±


    ¡®Dammit.¡¯ I internally sneered while absentmindedly saying. ¡°I did. A rabbit named Roger.¡±


    ¡°Seriously?¡± She scoffed in disapproval.


    ¡°Seriously.¡± I monotonously nodded. But that got me thinking of my menagerie.


    Roger¡¯s performance was far better than I anticipated. Causing my eagerness to expand my menagerie to rise to an all-time high. In all, I wanted around fifteen or so animals. So far, I had six, consisting of Roger rabbit, Skoll, and Hati, the dire wolves, Kit the fox; who was hunting Stewie the Rat at the time, and Pora Bora, the owl. There were a few must-haves that I wanted to capture on top of that. Some type of big cat and an ape of some sort, a mammoth or an elephant; a few sea creatures. And of course, a dragon. Other than that, I was open to anything, so long as I had no more than twenty.


    I also had the desire to test out the shadow prison on a magical beast, but given that I have yet to even meet one. That would have to wait. Regardless, there were so many experiments to pursue and such little time to pursue them.


    With my new affinities, however, that little time was all I needed.


    My thoughts were cut short by the steady rise of chatter and the starkly different skyline peering above the entrance to the coliseum in front of us. After meeting Lucia at the gate, we took a moment to wait for the others to trail in behind us before we move into the coliseum as a group. Once again, it¡¯d been reconstructed during our absence to resemble the same type of formal courtyard our Well readings took place. Albeit a far larger version, filled to the brim with commoners, soldiers, guild officials, nobles, and royals all cheering as we made our grand entrance. Meanwhile, Velasco and her peers appeared as sentinels lining the walls, staring absently towards the Emperor, Grandpa Lich, Law, and the Grandmaster huddled around a display case at the center.


    ¡°Welcome.¡± Grandmaster Vilignin gently clasped her hands as she turned to us with a warm smile. ¡°And congratulations on completing the Initiate Quality Assessment. From this moment forth, you are hereby recognized as Initiates. With that title, comes a limited level of individual sovereignty. You are given a higher status, the right to claim land, hunt hostile entities and claim the fruits of your labor.


    ¡°This we all know.¡± She continued without the enchantment amplifying her voice. ¡°What you also know, but may be unsure about, are Requests: contracts formed between you and another. Many live fruitful lives as Initiates by accepting these requests. Some maintain the borders of a city-state for a monthly fee. Others may find steady work in caravan security. Monster hunting, bandit extermination; the path to nearly all occupations is open for Initiates. To aid young Initiates in their journeys, the Guild Association distributes identification tags to the newly assessed. However, these are more than mere tags.¡± Grandmaster Vilignin held up her comparatively massive hands to display a bracelet made of a silvery type of metal. ¡°Their form changes with each generation, but they all serve the same, several purposes. This particular model is made from a special type of ore that binds itself to the owner after becoming attuned to your mana. In doing so, it allows others to see your assessment scores. Like your grimoires.¡± She clarified with a smile. ¡°Only, one that others are privy to.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°Furthermore.¡± She continued. ¡°This bracelet will document your requests and, in turn, display your record for all to see. In that way, you can think of it as being a partially sentient scribe. Wherein, upon your decision to accept a request, the bracelet will animate to transcribe the conditions of your agreement. Your success or failure will similarly be documented, and so too will the quest distributor''s honesty in sticking to their end of the agreement be transcribed. If they cheat you, you will have undeniable proof. As an Initiate seeking to further your career, your record should be and is the most important thing to you; for it will remain with you even after you join a guild or form your own. Unlike your tags. For all Copper and some of the Silver Quality Initiates to receive their tags today, a good record is the only path to be taken to an esteemed guild or military, thus promoting yourself to that of Pages. The majority of Silver Quality Initiates found themselves being recruited by some organizations today, but only the Gold and Platinum Quality Initiates were the ones they truly sought to recruit.


    "I will not speak of the number of Gold Initiates to have joined their ranks.¡± She continued after a short pause with an amused grin. ¡°But I can say that no Platinum Quality Initiates have joined their ranks as of yet. Nor can they ever hope to. The reason is that any Platinum Initiate has the power to thrive in any environment they see fit. More so, the primary requirement to attend the coveted Arcane Academy is to be assessed as a Platinum Initiate.


    ¡°Regardless of the path you take.¡± She took another pause, this time to activate the amplifying stone hidden in her collar and straighten out her voice into something more regal. ¡°I wish each of you success in your future endeavors.¡± Following her motions, each of her subordinates and most of the crowd bowed in solidarity. Leaving the small crowd of Initiates, including myself, a little taken aback. ¡°While there are nine of you.¡± The Grandmaster continued. ¡°We understand that three of you have no intentions of attending the Academy. So, without further adieu, we ask that you come forth when called. Once you receive your tags, I ask that you three standby to my right while the rest of you are debriefed.¡±


    A sudden eruption of sound bounced through the arena the split second after the Grandmaster gave us her instructions. Turning to the source, I saw what could only be described as a jester. A man dressed in flamboyantly loud clothes in the same black and amber-red color scheme of the Deapou Empire. He was all alone, in his little alcove in the arch above the entrance, shouting into an enchanted stone like an announcer at a wrestling match.


    ¡°Letta Sinclare!¡± He exclaimed, rightly shocking Letta off her feet. ¡°Like countless others, you¡¯ve seen today, the chain-bearing Initiate before you has aspirations to hone herself in wait for the creation of His Grace, Amun of Odissi¡¯s guild. However!¡± He spat. Triggering Letta to jump again mid-step. ¡°Lady Sinclare has the honor of serving His Grace as his personal watchmaker and jeweler. Despite that! Lady Letta has proven herself to be as capable in magic and body as she is in skill and mind, allowing the Chained Mistress to accumulate a sum total of three hundred nine points.¡±


    While the crowd erupted in well-deserved cheer, Letta excitedly went through the appropriate exchanges before taking the bracelet and trotting off with waves to the crowd. Spurring the jester to shout. ¡°Jonet Fischer! This young lady is as mysterious as she is cold, at a glance. But she can be as warm as the sun when needed. Traits that will surely help her master, the esteemed Grand Duke, in his future endeavors. At three hundred eighteen points, Lady Jonet is the second Platinum Quality Initiate of the night with no plans for the Academy. But!¡± He leaned in with a sleazy grin to mutter. ¡°Who here can blame the Ice Queen of Odissi?


    ¡°None! That¡¯s why it should be of no surprise to you that I call Giorno Nojo to center stage!¡± Perhaps it was because I was higher than eagle nuts, but the jester got a laugh out of me after that one. Most of the crowd did too, of course. But my humor was far darker than the average person''s, generally speaking.


    ¡°You may recognize this handsome young stud as the storm that ravaged the market¡¯s morning rush yesterday, but the audacious owner of JoJo¡¯s boutique is none other than the Grand Duke¡¯s tailor. A tailor unlike any other. Today! We see the debut of a legendary artisan who can acquire his own quarry of exotic materials in even the most far-off realms. At an astounding three hundred fifty-six points, we recognize The Severance Lord!¡±


    ¡®What¡¯s with these nicknames?¡¯ I snorted to myself. Still, Jonet¡¯s wasn¡¯t half bad. I just hoped the others had something better than ole, Lord Severance here.


    ¡°Lucia Pike!¡± The usual round of applause broke out for a few seconds and quickly died out, permeating the arena with a still silence before Lucia had even taken her first step. ¡°As the proud knight of our Grand Princess Roheisa, Lady Lucia is a woman of wide renown. Her acceptance to the Academy shall only serve as a stepping stone to launch her renown up to such a height that all on the Mortal Plane can see its greatness. That is what I foresee in her future. But for that, we will have to wait. For today, the Brass Valkyrie makes her debut, with three hundred-two points!¡±


    ¡®Barely made it, huh-¡¯


    ¡°The highly esteemed, Grand Princess Roheisa Deapou!¡± Even I recoiled from the shockwave sent out by the crowd. A stark contrast to the calm movements of the Princess; movements that had probably been rehearsed for half of her life. ¡°We all know her! We all love her! As we all saw, the pride and joy of the Deapou Empire is every bit as fearsome as His Imperial Majesty. Will she return from the Academy and lead Deapou to greatness, or will she spread her greatness across the Mortal Plane until the very heavens shout her name? Only the Gods know. As we all are aware. But, I humbly believe that one day, children will become engrossed in the tales of the Vulcan Valkyrie.¡±


    After the applause once again died down, ole Jesty Puller leaned closer to his enchantment to speak in a soft, informative voice. Almost like he was telling a story to his friend at the bar- tavern. ¡°Edward Pascal.¡± He muttered in a contemplatively nostalgic tone. ¡°A peculiar young man, if I do say so myself. According to my source, when asked about his occupation, Sir Edward proclaimed he was an ''Engineer.'' ¡®An engineer?¡¯ I can hear many of you asking. Why yes, an engineer. As in someone who uses their knowledge of the natural world to invent things and improve the quality of life for all. In other words!¡± He suddenly spat. Only to resume the same calm tone from before. ¡°The Ashbourne Engineer you see before you is a genius craftsman on his way to greatness. One who needs no enchantments to empower his devices. Yet, with three hundred twenty-two points, he will certainly learn the craft and take his creations to the furthest realms in existence.¡±


    ¡®Another shitty name.¡¯ Internally scoffed. ''Somewhat.''


    ¡°Jaimess A. Corey!¡± My treasurer seemed excited to step before the crowd for once. He even had a dumb satisfactory smile on his face while he made his way up there. A smile that only widened as Jesty continued. ¡°He¡¯s quiet, unassuming, and as good with numbers as he is with magic. Furthermore, Sir Jaimess is a prime example of one breaking the mold. Say, have you ever imagined what would happen if brain met brawn? If you have, then look no further than center stage. There, you¡¯ll see a future head of law and order boasting a score of three hundred thirty-two points. There, you¡¯ll see the Paper Tiger in the flesh.¡±


    ¡®Seriously? Paper Tiger?¡¯ I shook my head. It was so bad, the way they massacred my boy. I could almost cry. His disapproval of the moniker forced onto him brought me some solace, at least. If barely.


    I just hoped the one he gave me wasn¡¯t as cringe. I mean, he didn''t even try with that one.


    ¡°The Grand Duke of Odissi, Amun.¡±


    ¡®Here goes.¡¯ I sighed, then began the green mile. Triggering Jesty to begin his monologue in much the same tone as he gave to Ed.


    ¡°Every Marulean soul knows of the half-drow heir to the House of Cole. Even if they don¡¯t know of his name; even if they''ve never witnessed his visage, they know of him.¡± He paused, yet somehow showcased his cryptic grin through the silence. ¡°The hour of darkness that was imposed on the Capital Island? That was His Grace. The blue dragon''s breath that all of Maru surely saw and felt? That was His Grace. After witnessing his profound strength, immense magical power, and keen intellect accrue him three hundred seventy-nine points, who here can find themselves in disbelief of the claims behind his greatness? None! Rather, we are honored to witness the Glory that is Amun, step down the path toward great change. Not just for Maru. For all of the Mortal Plane. Thus it goes without saying. The Grand Duke Amun will surely become the greatest mage the realms has ever seen. It is only a matter of time before it becomes reality. This, we all know. And so we eagerly await the day the Black Magus returns.


    ¡®Black Magus, huh?¡¯ I internally frowned in approval. ¡®Not bad.¡¯


    It was quite dramatic of me to pace my walk to the tune of Jesty¡¯s monologue, but I felt like it was good for aesthetic purposes so I let myself wallow in the satisfaction of having impeccable timing. As Roheisa did, I gave a bow to my Grandfather, then the Emperor before lowering myself a third time for the Grandmaster. In turn, she placed the small bracelet in my hand before forcing my spine upright with a hand almost as massive as Grandpa Lich¡¯s. As for the device, it had a cold touch and a platinum-like sheen but had a strange texture that felt almost like scales. The only exception was the rectangular spot in the center where my rank, name, Well reading, and scores were etched within the border of what appeared to be a framework of runes. Though strangely, no enchantments could be found on the thing.


    Tossing my questions aside for the moment, I quickly infused it with my mana while I slipped it over my bicep and stepped away. Almost immediately, it took on a black hue like that of the void before reverting to its former hue in the next instant, then resized to fit snugly around my arm where it just¡­ disappeared.


    Well, that¡¯s how it felt.


    ¡°Toril O¡¯Connell!¡± Jester¡¯s exclamation served to mark the beginning of the end of this elaborate ceremony, causing my excitement and impatience to rise to an all-time high. Still, though, I listened closely to his ramblings in the hopes that he¡¯d give Toril a better moniker than the others. ¡°As we all were surprised to learn, Sir Toril is undoubtedly the most powerful knight to arrive at this year¡¯s assessment. I dare to add to that fact by saying he¡¯s the most powerful knighted Initiate many of us have ever seen. Precisely what one would expect from someone sworn to protect one as powerful as His Grace. Much like Sir Jaimess, however, Toril is a prime example of breaking the mold. In his case, brawn has met brain in excess. Thus giving rise to the Undying Tempest.¡±


    I had to fight to not throw my arms up in frustration. ¡®Where was that with all the others?¡¯


    Jesty bid his farewell with the eruption of the crowd, prompting Law, Grandmaster Vilignin, Grandpa Lich, and the Emperor to approach us with warm, prideful smiles and welcoming arms.


    ¡°Again, congratulations on becoming Initiates,¡± Grandmaster Vilignin calmly said as a foul grin spread over her face. ¡°As Platinum Quality Initiates, you are hereby welcome to attend the magic academy. With that, comes the admission exam.¡± She paused as Law went down the line to hand each of us a pair of rolled-up scrolls, only continuing once he¡¯d made it halfway down the line. ¡°What you¡¯re receiving now is an up-to-date map of Maru and the rules for the admission exam to the academy. Rules that I will explain to you at this time.


    ¡°First.¡± She spat. ¡°Enchanted clothing is strictly prohibited for Pages of the Academy. Naturally, that includes those taking the entrance exam as well. Second, that rule also applies to any article of clothing that denotes you of a higher status. In other words, anything marking you as royalty, nobility, or any other station is prohibited. Third, you may assist each other in completing your exam. However, you may not accept help from an outside source of any kind. As for the task itself, you are to plot a route and travel to Rook Island, off the southeastern coast of Epethia. There, you will come upon the Guild Association¡¯s Fifth Division Headquarters, where you will rendezvous with our associates. Once the deadline passes, you and the other Marulean Initiates will transfer to the Academy. That deadline is the last day of the year. Or thirty days from today. A late arrival constitutes a failure, and there are no retakes. So don¡¯t be late.¡±

 69 - Nice

    ¡°Dismissed.¡±


    Grandmaster Vilignin¡¯s final order served as the gun that marked the start of a race between most of us newly Initiated. At the sound of her last vowel, Jonet skipped from our cluster to trot off toward the stands, presumably to where her mother was. Similarly, Letta and Giorno ran and nonchalantly walked off to our quarters upon our release. Leaving Toril, Jaimess, and Ed to walk back as a group while Roheisa and I approached our respective family members to relocate under the stands to a more private setting.


    Therein brought a blazing observation to mind: I still haven¡¯t met or even seen Roheisa¡¯s mother. As far as I was aware, her absence could''ve only meant a couple of things: either Roheisa was a bastard child, or her mother died when Roheisa was young. I had a strong inkling it was the latter, but whatever the case behind her absence was, it explained her close attachment to her father. The Emperor was all she had, which made me all the more worried about her reaction to his condition inevitably worsening down the line.


    Inside the halls, I was guided into a seemingly random lounge while Roheisa and her father stepped into the adjacent room. Within, Grandpa Lich plopped down on a sofa with a heavy sigh while my father quietly closed the door, then turned about to lean against it like he just escaped from an angry mob. Creating the perfect environment to pry for information.


    ¡°Does Roheisa know?¡±


    ¡°Know what?¡± Grandpa Lich groaned.


    ¡°About His Imperial Majesty¡¯s condition,¡± I calmly said. ¡°If I¡¯m going to be traveling with her, I need to know if she¡¯s at risk of going off the rails.¡±


    ¡°And here I thought you were being altruistic.¡± Grandpa Lich huffed with a potent mix of emotions.


    "I¡¯d never.¡± I contemptuously laughed.


    That got a dry chortle out of both of my forefathers, yet the somber tide I tried to keep at bay swept into the lounge at full force; sweeping my father and more so my Grandfather out into the bay of depression.


    ¡°He is¡­ she is being told as we speak.¡± Grandpa Lich sighed. ¡°As are you, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± I raised a single brow. But Grandpa Lich only turned to my father with expecting eyes.


    ¡°It means that you have no obligation to return home, Amun. As we have discussed.¡± Father said. ¡°While it would make me the happiest man alive if you did. You do not have to. Not even if the worst was to happen. Your Great Grandfather and I have had multiple contingencies worked out since long before you were born. Even if our cities are reduced to rubble and ash, our people will undoubtedly survive. And that is what truly makes an empire. You only need to maintain your focus and bring your dreams into reality.


    ¡°Also.¡± He sighed a moment later. ¡°As an Initiate, you are now considered an adult. You can do just about whatever you want now, and as a result, your allowance will be no more after today.¡± He paused to gesture to the chest at his feet before resuming in an apologetic tone. ¡°You¡¯ll have to earn your own coin from here on out.¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± I quickly said. I wasn¡¯t hurt by the news. Over my fifteen years of living, my allowance accrued me a literal mound of gold. A dragon-like hoard. If my plans were to come to fruition, that amount would surely increase exponentially. With requests and the prospects of an undead legion clearing out rich veins of ore from the Darkworld on top of that, I couldn¡¯t see myself being poor in this life. And naturally, that extended to my followers. ¡°However,¡± I added. ¡°I am still the heir to Odissi. So, I¡¯ll be returning to this place after I graduate from the academy.¡±


    ¡°While that warms my heart.¡± Father chuckled. ¡°I fail to see how you will explore the Mortal Plane while ruling over Odissi.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it with me.¡± I amiably shrugged. Causing my father¡¯s mouth to remain agape for the several seconds of silence that lasted until Grandpa Lich broke the silence with a far too somber tone.


    ¡°Amun."


    I turned to him. ¡°Yes, Sir?¡±


    ¡°Here¡¯s what should happen. The courses during your first year should be the same for everyone. They will teach you everything about classes. Including how to meet their requirements. They will be obtained by the end of that year. In your second year, you will step down your chosen paths. That is when we will meet again. The Summoner¡¯s course, in the latter part of that year. At that time, you will be instructed in properly controlling your undead army. If you discovered the secret to raising them, that is.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m around ninety-eight percent sure I already know how.¡± I quipped with a tap to my temple. ¡°I assume it involves imbuing the voice with death mana and giving a command?¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t tried it?¡± Grandpa Lich coyly asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want my first undead shadow to be a run-of-the-mill human.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I want it to be something magical or mythical. Perhaps even divine.¡±


    While he said nothing, Grandpa Lich held a curious gaze towards me that all but told me that I was right in following such lines of thinking. Though, to no surprise, he quickly deflected onto another topic within the same moment. ¡°With the completion of your education, my tasks will finally be complete.¡±


    My brows perked up at once. ¡®Tasks? As in, given by someone with a name that rhymes with ''felon,'' type of task?¡¯


    In my moment of conjecture, Grandpa Lich erected his towering frame to begin taking slow, dramatic steps toward me. Then stopped to kneel and place his massive hands on my shoulders. ¡°Much like Jamettus, I am a memento from a time long past. I have ravaged kingdoms. Erected empires. Paved the way for hundreds of thousands of individuals to rise to greatness.¡± He paused to give me a gentle shake. ¡°All that ends with you, Amun. It is your turn to spread darkness across the Mortal Plane. After Jamettus¡­ passes, and your training is complete, I will physically realize my grimoire and pass my soul into the Under. If you seek to claim that grimoire for yourself; and the grimoires of our ancestors, then find the Cole Crypt in the place of my birth. And.¡± He amiably shrugged. ¡°If you ever wish to talk from there on after, you can always find me in the Under.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± I nodded, then stepped in for a hug.


    To my surprise, he bear-hugged me back. Not in a lethal way, but in a fully affectionate way that was never displayed by the great Necro King before. Honestly, it was slightly unsettling. But I welcomed it all the same. As did my Father, who joined in after a few moments. We just¡­ stood there, holding each other in a tight embrace for a few blissful moments until we simultaneously peeled away to our former positions as if it¡¯d never happened at all.


    ¡°A final word of advice.¡± Grandpa Lich spat in his usual tone. ¡°If you see any fake necromancers during your travels, kill them without mercy and raise them immediately. As a member of the one, true house of necromancy, taking them will drastically increase the power of your army.¡±


    ¡°Fake necromancers?¡± I hesitantly asked.


    ¡°Those who use ritual or some other means outside of Nergal and Grimm to raise and control dead.¡± He commented with a few dismissive waves. ¡°An insult to our existence.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± I nodded, then turned to my father with raised brows.


    To which, he only smiled and said. ¡°Just be careful. And have fun.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡± I bowed, then erected myself in the next second to give them both a beaming smile. ¡°And thank you for all that you¡¯ve given me. I will cherish these memories for the rest of my days. I love you.¡±


    ¡°And we love you, Son.¡± Father smiled.


    And so too did Grandpa Lich. ¡°With every fabric of my dead being.¡±


    So saying, I trotted out of the room and down the hall past the subtle sounds of weeping and sparked up a smoke before taking to the air. After a short flight, I was floating before a vast cove on the southern base of the mountain, easing my boat out of my shadow and into the dock for mooring. Once done, I could only float there, puffing away as I studied the craft in awe of this world¡¯s engineering capabilities.


    It was by no means my first boat- well, it was in this life, but it had no right even being called a ''boat.'' It was just over twenty meters long, with the wide, flat frame of a river ferry painted in a matte black with gilded accents. As one would expect, the main deck was filled with saloons, dining areas, and a slew of interior and exterior social spaces from bow to stern. Naturally, the power plant sat center stern, in a massive frame of wood and steel that housed the array of enchantments used to power and control the vessel. It only needed to be primed with either air, water or some type of fire magic to start. Then, it would use the ambient mana to propel the ship with the same affinity as the magic that primed it.


    While I studied it from the outside when my father first dumped it on me, I never really got the chance to tour the interior until now. So, I assumed my Wraith Form and drifted down to peer through the bulkheads and decking while I skimmed the owner''s manual stored in my Eternal Eye. According to it, the vessel¡¯s name was ''The Broad Bottom Packet,'' and was intended to be crewed by the undead. As such, there were no crew quarters. Opening up tens of square meters for additional amenities. The entire upper deck was dedicated to the owner: me. Complete with a full-beam master cabin with en suite, private study, and outdoor saloon. Below that was a larger outdoor saloon, grill space, and fishing area on the aft deck that seamlessly transitioned to the open, country-style galley and sunken living room inside. Leaving the entire lower deck open for eight spacious cabins and a full-berth VIP room to have their own private social space.


    On top of that, the vessel had two huge walk-in freezers, a trash incinerator, and numerous enchantments for things like bilge pumps, stabilization, and even water desalination. Essentially, it was a luxury expedition yacht that was only lacking in digital media. As such, I almost wanted to sail the entire way to Rook Island in it, but my days of sailing and piracy would come in due time just like everything else.


    That said, I still planned to at least sail to Epethia on the ship come tomorrow. And at a leisurely pace at that. Which meant that it needed to be lightly packed with provisions and prepared for departure before we left. However, there were more important matters to attend to at the moment, so I took a second to ''download'' the map we¡¯d been given into my Eternal Eeye before I pulled myself out of the cove to fall through the air toward our cabin.


    Much to my surprise, the Princess was standing outside when I arrived. I fully expected to her be drowning in tears in her room, but there she was, standing tall with a faux sense of pride surrounding her. Belied only by the puffy skin around her bloodshot eyes. I was unsure if letting her maintain her sense of strength or if being a pillar for her to lean on was what she needed at the time; and frankly, I didn¡¯t care. If we were going to be stuck together for the foreseeable future, I needed her to be the best version of herself on both the inside and the outside. So I stepped towards her to bring her into my embrace just after I came to a landing.


    Despite her hugging me back, she still tried to maintain her aura of strength, even as her voice wavered in my ear. ¡°W- what¡¯s the meaning of this?¡±


    ¡°You know why,¡± I calmly said.


    She only hugged me tighter in response and remained that way for more than a few minutes. Emitting nothing more than a few silent whimpers until she finally pulled me away from her to wipe her eyes. ¡°Thank you.¡± She sniffled, then buried her eyes in her hands again to straighten herself out. ¡°And... what was that magic just now?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a spell that allows me to remain by your side.¡± I smiled reassuringly at her. ¡°Since we¡¯ll be traveling together, we have to look out for each other, right?¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± She sassed in her usual manner. ¡°And who said we¡¯d be traveling together?¡±


    ¡°Why else would you be here?¡± I laughed. ¡°And besides, why wouldn¡¯t you? We¡¯re going to the same place after all. No sense in traveling alone.¡±


    ¡°True.¡± She pouted out her lips in hesitant agreement before stepping after me. Only to halt in place as I paused at the door.


    ¡°That said. There are a few things I need to take care of along the way.¡±


    So saying, I entered the cabin to see my vassals, scattered around the table, simultaneously looking at me with unbridled excitement. Except for Toril, of course, who stood to approach me, saying. ¡°Our gear is packed and we¡¯re prepared to leave at your word, Your Grace. Save whatever those three have in store for us.¡±


    Following Toril¡¯s gesture, I saw Ed, Letta, and Giorno reaching down to grab an array of boxes and bags from their doppelgangers or rucks to then arrange them out before us.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°You¡¯ll find that your watches have the same features,¡± Letta explained on her approach to the Princess and I, carrying two small boxes that she held out to us upon arrival. ¡°However, each of them has been made with the materials provided by His Grace and tailored to fit your styles and color schemes. This one is yours, Your Imperial Highness.¡± Letta offered up the remaining box with a bow. ¡°This watch is automatic; meaning, it¡¯s wound using the natural motions of your arm while you go about your daily activities. Additionally, it¡¯s dirt-proof and waterproof up to a depth of two hundred meters. It also contains a stopwatch, sun tracker, and a timer coupled with a silent alarm in the rotating bezel.¡±


    ¡°Letta. This is amazing!¡± The princess gasped in disbelief


    ¡°This is only the start.¡± I chuckled before she could ask any questions. ¡°After the academy, we¡¯ll have access to magical materials and enchantments as well. Just wait until you see what they create then.¡±


    ¡°In the meantime, I give you these.¡± Ed beamed from the back of the room, bringing our eyes to a few strangely built seats and recliners strewn about the backyard. "Navigational Aids.¡± He proudly declared, then waved to what appeared to be a legless seat with a large bag stitched to the back. ¡°Jonet, this first one is for you. According to our Lord¡¯s theories, you should be able to create updrafts and wind currents anywhere you please with your Thermal Magic. This chair takes advantage of that. All you need to do is strap yourself in, and open up the parachute.¡±


    Although she said nothing, Jonet¡¯s face beamed up the moment she understood how to use it. To no surprise, as she was one of the few who still had to use elemental manipulation to fly about. Unless she wanted to fly around screaming nonstop.


    ¡°For you, Toril, I made this.¡± Ed gestured to a strange mix between a coffin, a recliner, and a sun-shaded wheelchair. It was essentially a wheeled box with a padded interior for Toril¡¯s legs to lie in while he reclined. ¡°After reducing its weight with your magic, you close yourself in here, and this covering unfolds into a pair of wings that¡¯ll keep you afloat. Or.¡± He paused to wheel the contraption around to show the small bell nozzle welded to the backside. ¡°You can use your combustion magic to increase your speed.¡±


    After slowly approaching his new vessel, Toril rubbed a calloused hand over the polished wood frame to first admire the near-impeccable quality of Ed¡¯s work before turning to him with an apologetic smile. ¡°Thanks. But, I can already fly.¡±


    ¡°We all can.¡± Ed snorted. ¡°This makes it so you can relax and do other things while you fly. And, it fits in your rucksack.¡±


    While Toril shrugged in modest agreement and went to put his new toy away, Ed moved on to his last contraption. A bundle of iron rods and plates that unfolded into a rough ¡®H¡¯ shape. ¡°This is basically a seat for Jaimess, Giorno, and Letta. Or, whoever else wants to ride with you.¡± Ed paused to suggestively raise his brows at a sneering Jaimess before continuing. ¡°All you have to do is use your magic to make something that can fly. It''ll work with your Paper Art or anything else you come up with.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to put it to good use,¡± Jaimess curtly said, then moved to put the frame away as Toril did with his.


    ¡°And for you, my Lord. I made this,¡± Ed said as I approached a rather large but otherwise simple chair.


    It was a padded recliner large enough for two of me. No wheels or strange contraptions were to be found, other than a pair of oversized armrests that doubled as sunshades and could fold down to make working surfaces. Other than that, there was a simple parasol attached to the backrest to cover my head.


    ¡°You already lounge about whilst in the air, my Lord.¡± Ed meekly chuckled after seeing me plant myself on the seat to cop a feel. ¡°You may as well be comfortable while you do it.¡±


    Like Toril¡¯s rocket chair and Jonet¡¯s paraglider, the falling throne was made of curved, polished blackwood slats housed within an iron frame. And like everything Ed created, it was exceptionally well made. After getting settled, I reactivated my Free Fall spell and simultaneously pulled a speck of mana through my gravity well to flick a bullet at the chair, resulting in my ass slamming into the chair and in turn, the chair pushing off the surface at a leisurely pace. The sight nearly made Roheisa''s eyes burst from their sockets, forcing me to fight back the urge to laugh until I was saved by Giorno.


    Dramatically loud, Giorno pushed a wheeled wardrobe into the courtyard. Everyone''s attention was on him in an instant. And just in time to witness him jump from behind the furniture like a show host appearing from behind a curtain, eliciting a sudden gasp of surprise from some of us.


    ¡°Our show and tell is not complete.¡± He charmingly declared. ¡°As per our Lord¡¯s orders, I¡¯ve crafted the perfect wear for our travels. As you can see for yourselves.¡± He audaciously smiled, gesturing to himself. Or rather, to the three-piece suit covering his frame. It was black-on-black with a white button-up shirt paired with a green tie and handkerchief. But what was most eye-catching, were the designs stitched around the pockets. The breast pockets, the pockets along the ribs, on the pants, and even his tie were all dyed green, stitched, and sewn to make it appear as if the suit had been taken to with a pair of swords. Creating a subtly inconspicuous pattern when seen from a distance and quite the conversation piece from up close.


    ¡°First and foremost.¡± Giorno continued as he handed Letta a paper-wrapped parcel. ¡°Let it be known that there exist winterized versions of your clothes in addition to the heat-suited sets you¡¯ll be receiving today. To that end, there also exists variations of your clothes for every occasion. Should you be swimming, should you be caught in a downpour, should you find yourself crossing a desert or poisonous bog, I, Giorno Nojo, will have you dressed properly for the occasion.¡± With a final bow, he silently ushered for Letta to go change. Mere moments later, she reappeared in the same fashion as Giorno. From behind the corner, she leaped and landed in an awkward squat, thus plunging her arms into the pockets of a gray, one-piece pantsuit with a frilled collar and matching gray frills on the short sleeves and ankles. It was a casually subtle, yet elegant design that was topped off with a black headband, sash, and a pair of simple gray slip on''s.


    ¡°As stated before,¡± Giorno said, halting Ed just after he¡¯d been given his parcel. ¡°This is only the base version for Letta¡¯s guise. For cold climates, her suit is made of thicker fabric lined with fur, paired with a thick jacket and fur boots. ¡°Naturally.¡± He nodded to his left, signaling Ed to go change. ¡°Her wet weather gear is found in a similar style.¡±


    ¡®Surely there¡¯s a more efficient way to do this.¡¯ I internally snorted. ¡®But, I¡¯ll let him have his moment.¡¯ So saying, I lit a smoke to pass the time, eliciting a disgusted gaze from the princess that was readily ignored by me.


    Much to my amusement, Giorno did much the same and lit a cigarette just before Ed rounded the corner. Completing the look of a city-slicking salesman showing off a pristine model to a client. The model, in this case, was Ed; or rather, the pair of ashen-gray coveralls wrapped around him. Save the white undershirt, the black riggers belt lined with attachment points, and the matching pair of buckled, high-top boots, the fit was a solid piece lined from head to toe in white trimmed pockets and tool holsters. On top of that, it seemed like Giorno brought zippers into this world. Although he didn¡¯t explain the function due to the Princess'' presence, I could see the unmistakable seams wrapped around the knees and elbows of his suit that gave them away.


    ¡°This is your bonus,¡± Giorno grunted as he planted a hard hat on top of Ed¡¯s head. Albeit one made from hardwood, covered in a material like black suede. ¡°So you don¡¯t hit your head while working.¡±


    ¡°A helmet for work?¡± The princess frowned in contemplation.


    ¡°Safety is key.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°Because of her abilities.¡± Giorno continued without pause. ¡°Jonet¡¯s guise needn¡¯t be copied and altered to befit her environment. Thus, I present to you, the Ice Queen.¡±


    Theatrically, Jonet rounded the corner on cue to pose with her leg on top of a chair akin to a certain Captain from Earth. All but showing off the brown leather, knee-high boots covering her legs, in which a pair of tight black pants were tucked. Her hands and arms remained bare up to her elbows, where the black-trimmed sleeves of a light blue button-up shirt began and rose to a pair of shoulders shrouded by a simple black hood that hung over her head like the reaper¡¯s cowl.


    In other words, she finally looked the part for the task I¡¯d given her. All she needed now was to leave this land and begin.


    After departing, Jaimess rounded the corner next and like Giorno, he bore a set of formal attire. A black, two-piece pinstripe suit that was easily interchangeable to befit whatever climate or occasion he found himself in. With a paper-tan tie and matching handkerchief paired against a flat cap and a black, tan-trimmed button-up shirt, Jaimess undoubtedly appeared the most normal out of all of us. Negating the need for an explanation on Giorno¡¯s part, must to Jaimess¡¯ dismay.


    ¡°Like Ed, Toril has an immunity to heat, and thus has a garb meant to protect him from cold, and physical damage.¡±


    So saying, Toril emerged in a dress befitting the warrior I intended for him to be. It started with a black tunic with stitches along the collar and seams that resembled streaks of white lightning. That served as a simple undershirt for the vest covering Toril¡¯s chest and shoulders with a thick pelt of black fur with white highlights. Similarly, his shorts were furred and stopped at the knee, where they tucked into black leather boots. Yet covering those shorts was a call-back to his armor: A thick white belt with intricately embroidered leather strips skirting his waist down to his knees.


    With Toril planted in his seat, Giorno reached up to my chair, floating a couple of meters off the ground, to hand off my parcel.


    After thanking him kindly, I produced a small gravity well to pull my chair and me into the secluded sky, wherein I dumped the contents of my parcel and let them float about around me while I stripped.


    Due to years of wearing magical clothing, I found the simple act of changing clothes to be an embarrassingly challenging endeavor. 15 years and I had once to put on my own clothes. I was unsure if it was enchantments or materials that caused my clothes to change size according to my body but I vowed to find out and procure it as soon as I could, as the luxury of having a true one-size-fit-all was too cemented in my mind to give up. As for the clothes themselves, they were a slight modification of the garb I was already wearing. My feet were covered in a pair of high-top minimalist boots covered in a material like black suede which, in turn, had a pair of moderately baggy pants tucked into them like a pair of soldier¡¯s fatigues. In turn, that was paired with a black turtleneck stitched in a quilted pattern with gold-yellow threads. Threads that were missing on the slightly blacker sleeves. And, much to my delight, tied off with a replica sash made of a similar, silky, golden-yellow fabric.


    The only other item was a small backpack filled with the standard loadout of better versions of the same trail equipment from before. After taking the bedroll Ebbet gave me and attaching it to the bag, I stuffed it and my enchanted clothes into my shadow and descended back to the ground to first allow Giorno to gush over his work for a bit before we got down to business.


    ¡°Lastly,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ll find that while your packs may not be enchanted, they have ample space for all the essentials and more to be stored neatly. They are weatherproof, fire retardant, and exceptionally resistant. But they are not enchanted, and will not be reformed if damaged. Should that ever happen, see to me for your replacement.¡±


    While Giorno retreated with a bow and went on to move his wardrobe out of the way, I took a few seconds to read over the rules we¡¯d been given before unrolling and unfolding the surprisingly large and detailed map to skim over my plan before I shared it with the others.


    To be honest, I was fully prepared to lounge about until the day before and simply fall to the rendezvous point like the lazy man I was. Naturally, however, the explorer within me couldn¡¯t pass up the chance of not only seeing the largest continent in this realm with my own two eyes but learning if the stories about Epethia and its people were true. Not to mention, it was a great way to build up my Menagerie. In all, we had twenty-nine days to find Letta and Giorno a shit hole to uplift, do some sightseeing, and cross a supercontinent.


    Quite the task indeed.


    With a sigh, I squatted beside the map with a stick in hand to repeatedly point between the comical versions of the Cast Iron Summit and a port city on the Epethian side.¡°Here¡¯s the plan. We travel by boat to the northwestern coast of Epethia, then travel by foot for a few dozen kilometers into this port city. From there.¡± I moved my pointer a fair way inland, far beyond the dotted lines that distinguished territories from one another. Over to the vast mountain range separating the dense jungle from the desert plains. ¡°We¡¯ll fly to this region to find a suitable location for Letta and Giorno to take up shop in during our absence. If this map is correct, the distance is nearly five thousand kilometers, so we¡¯ll have to fly as fast as possible along the way if we want to have enough time to get you both settled properly.


    ¡°After that.¡± I moved my pointer far to the south, within the jigsaw of borders, cities, and counties huddled against each other for leagues. ¡°I want to go another five thousand kilometers to the south to see the Epethian capital. Only for a day, if that, before we backtrack to a suitable location to cross the mountain. I intend for us to find a crossing point on our way to the capital, allowing us to waste no time climbing. ¡°From there.¡± I tapped the pointer halfway across the map to the southeastern coast. ¡°It¡¯s a straight, nine thousand kilometer shot to the southeastern coast and a short ride to the island.¡±


    ¡°Sounds simple enough.¡± Roheisa nodded. ¡°Assuming we fly fast enough.¡±


    ¡°So simple a barbarian could do it.¡± I snorted. ¡°The only question is, when do we leave? We can either tend to our last-minute needs and depart in a few hours, or try and get some sleep and depart at dawn.¡±


    ¡°As if I¡¯d be able to sleep with adventure on the horizon.¡± The Princess scoffed.


    ¡°Agreed.¡± Followed Toril with a grunt. And everyone else thereafter.


    ¡°Then it''s settled.¡± I nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll meet at the dock in, say¡­ two hours?¡±


    Again, they all voiced their agreements in sequence. Leaving a final piece of business to attend to before we dispersed.


    ¡°Sorry, Princess.¡± I lowered my head towards Roheisa, then turned to Jonet to say. ¡°Mute her.¡±


    Much to my delight, Jonet followed my order without question and assaulted the Princess with a harmless sound spell. Causing her blistering frustrations to go unheard, and thus ignored.


    ¡°First,¡± I said to Jonet. ¡°I want to reaffirm that you not only understand your task but that you¡¯re willing to do it.¡±


    ¡°My answer is the same, My Lord.¡± She quickly shook her head. ¡°I fully understand and accept the mission you¡¯ve given me. And I shall not fail you.¡±


    ¡°And you two?¡± I turned away from Jonet¡¯s bow to gaze upon my tinkerers. ¡°Do you understand and accept your roles in this remote place?¡±


    ¡°Yes, my Lord.¡± They both said in unison.


    ¡°Now then.¡± I turned to those coming with me to the academy. ¡°I want to reiterate that we are to act independently of each other during our time at the academy. We should remain cordial with each other but should seek our own circles to spend time around while we¡¯re there. Make friends. Form rivalries. Follow your heart¡¯s content in your studies and work silently to gather allies. We may find ourselves separated for a while; perhaps again sometime in the far future. But I want each of you to know that our deal still stands. I will entrust you with all my knowledge, I will give you the tools you need for success, and I will protect you all by sharing my strengths. In exchange, I ask only for your loyalty and trust.¡±


    ¡°I trust you with my soul, my Lord.¡± Toril grimly declared. ¡°And I will remain loyal to you long past my dying breath.¡±


    ¡°My answer is the same.¡± Giorno quickly followed with a bow. ¡°Be I alive or dead, I will serve you, and only you.¡±


    Letta, Ed, Jaimess, and Jonet went on to swear fealty to me again in sequence, reassuring the skeptical lizard hiding deep in my brain in the process.


    It wasn¡¯t that I felt there was a traitor among us. Only, one could never be too cautious. I¡¯d long since known that these six highly skilled individuals would be with me to the end. They¡¯d been with me since the beginning, after all. No. It was everyone who came after that I had to be wary of. Those who were easily swayed with lies or bribed with false promises. These were my most precious vassals. As such, they deserved nothing but the best.


    ¡°Not to get soppy,¡± I said. ¡°But I want to take a moment to tell each of you how proud I am of how far you¡¯ve come. You¡¯ve endured my training without complaints for years on end. You saw the results of that for yourselves today, so don¡¯t ever doubt yourselves after tomorrow.¡±


    Before the awkwardness could rise to dangerous levels, I stole their attention by reaching into my Shadow Pocket and retrieving six hefty sacks, and distributing them to each of them. ¡°As a reward for your efforts, I first give you a lump sum of the next four years¡¯ salary. Second.¡± I reached out to summon the gang of puppets laying across the ground and wall. ¡°I¡¯m giving each of you an upgrade.¡±

 70 - Blue World

    ¡®Fear.


    What is fear?


    Is it a primal instinct? One that creates anxiety in the hopes of the host fleeing for the sake of survival?


    Is it cowardice? An emotion that¡¯s meant to be overcome by willpower, enabling one to reach their true potential?


    To that end, what does it mean to be fearless?


    Is it to have courage? To overcome instinct? Or is it having the strength to fight to the end amidst despair?


    Fear is the unknown, in my opinion. Everything unfamiliar and strange makes us humans wary if we are strong; fearful if we are weak. That includes the many creatures and vistas found across the Mortal Plane. And, the concept of change itself.


    To that end, fearlessness means acceptance. To be fearless means to face the unknown with no hateful feelings or sense of altruism. It means accepting all the potential outcomes of one¡¯s situation, no matter the cause.


    That is what I believe, for it is that belief that gives me true power.


    I have long since accepted the potentiality of a life filled with suffering at the hands of humans, high-orcs, demons, elves, or even myself. More so, I have long since had the resolve to accept the mortifying embrace of the Underworld with open arms.


    Only then, after I accepted everything, did I truly become powerful.


    For it was then that I was stripped of anything I could ever lose.


    And those with nothing to lose, are the most dangerous.''


    "S.S.S. 1:2"


    ***


    Jonet Fischer.


    ***


    ¡°I¡¯m giving each of you an upgrade.¡±


    We all watched intently as our clones pried themselves from the floors or walls to form a line before our Lord, Amun. Toril¡¯s was first. Standing just as the young knight would while an absurd amount of shadow mana poured through Amun¡¯s hand, palmed on the clone¡¯s head. There was no visible change in the clone itself after the exchange of energy was complete. But, I and everyone else present could surely feel the strange, potent energy dwelling within it while it stood there, listening to Amun give it a laundry list of orders.


    As far as I knew, arcana was nothing more than mana in its most concentrated form. Enabling the smallest portions of mana to yield the most ground-breaking results. After taking that, and Amun¡¯s somewhat labored breath into account, I felt it was safe to say that Amun dumped his entire mana well into Toril¡¯s clone. Making me all the more curious about any increase to our clone¡¯s capabilities.


    With the passing of a few minutes, Amun went on to empower Jaimess¡¯ clone with arcana and give him the same set of orders before sending him back into Jaimess'' shadow. Followed by mine, Ed¡¯s, Giorno¡¯s, and Letta¡¯s.


    ¡°What are those?¡± Princess Roheisa asked in shocked disbelief.


    ¡°Doppelgangers. Everyone who works for me gets one.¡± Amun passively shrugged, then turned to us. ¡°Anyway, there are a few gifts I want to give you all as well. So, form up in a line.¡±


    To no surprise, the greedy one ran to our Lord first, only to be visibly disappointed to learn that it was magic instead of money being given to us. Though our Lord seemed to pay it no mind, it was an object of annoyance for the rest of us. Giorno told us he¡¯s had more than a few words with her and would set her straight once they separated from the party, causing most of the others to hold off on giving her a few words of their own.


    I, however, would have taken my leave long before then. A good thing, in my eyes. For I felt that Letta Sinclare would not enjoy our conversation too much.


    When it was my turn to approach our Lord, he first gave me a genuine smile. A somewhat rare occurrence for him, but a welcome one all the same. With my rising from a formal bow, Amun imbued his finger with one of his strange affinities and lightly tapped at my forehead, dissipating the energy through my body but causing no noticeable effect.


    His next spell, however, was much more noticeable; rather, it was unignorable.


    It took years to grow accustomed to it, death mana. Within that time frame, I tried everything to overcome the fearful effects of feeling energy pulled straight from the Underworld. But no matter what I tried, the cold, the darkness, the haunting whispers, they all proved to be too much.


    Strangely enough, though, all that changed once I answered the question Amun asked me and Jaimess all those years ago. Ever since then, I still felt its intense pressure, I always would, but it didn¡¯t seem as¡­ threatening. Or, at the very least, I was no longer fearful of it. As such I intently watched him claw at his chest with both hands to pull out two masses of ethereal green energy and thrust them at me. Suffusing a warm, gentle feeling into my body.


    Like Princess Roheisa, I carefully observed the others receive much the same treatment. Only, my curiosity morphed into comprehension while hers only swam deeper into the murky waters of confusion. Luckily, her inquiry was deflected by Amun distributing books and a small, slender gift box to the lot of us, including her.


    ¡°These are new theories based on what we saw during the assessment,¡± Amun explained before anyone could ask. ¡°I¡¯m unsure of how well humans can manipulate mana, but the Association has shown that you all can at least create a skin of mana. Though, it did little for my opponent, thus I assume it gives magical protection. Regardless, it would be wise for you all to learn the technique. As for the other thing, they¡¯re glasses.¡± He anticlimactically beamed. ¡°But not just any glasses.¡± He added with a wagging finger a moment later. ¡°I¡­ acquired your styles from Giorno and paid good money for these enchanted glasses. They give you night vision. Just¡­ not as good as mine. But the added benefit is that they were enchanted by either me or my forefathers. So, they should allow you all to see in magical darkness as well.¡±


    ¡°My Lord, you-¡±


    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have. I know.¡± He cut Giorno¡¯s praise off with an impatient sigh. ¡°Those of you going to the academy won¡¯t even be able to use them during our journey, but that¡¯s not the case for the rest of you. At any rate.¡± He turned for the door. ¡°That¡¯s all for now. I¡¯ll see you in two hours.¡±


    With his and Princess Roheisa¡¯s departure, the rest of us scrambled to our rooms to prepare for our long-awaited departure. After secluding myself in my quarters, I first locked the door and then spread a domain of sound magic throughout the space. Rendering my actions silent to anyone outside the room. With that done, I grabbed my bag from Jonet- my Doppelganger- and retrieved the items given to us by the Guild Association. The first of them was the strange bracelet that distinguished us as Assessed Initiates.


    I hadn¡¯t put it on yet. Namely, because I didn¡¯t know where to put it. Using it as a ring or bracelet like Ed, Letta, or Giorno would¡¯ve made it too conspicuous for my role. As would¡¯ve been the case if I used it as a piercing as Jaimess and Toril did. As far as I could tell, the only options were to be like the first three and place it inside my boot as a toe ring or ankle bracelet, or do as Amun did and make an armband. It didn''t take long to decide which, thus I pulled out the second and final item. An annotated Marulean Map.


    While there were civilizations found throughout Phaegrath that I was curious about, my eye was focused on the Epethian Territories. In all, it occupied most of the land sitting west of the mountain range. The port city we could see from the Summit was the largest civilized land in the north. From there, a slim film of territories hugged a coast lined with as many bays, coves, and inlets as there were beaches until the borders spread to encompass a vast peninsula at the southern end of the continent. Separating the peninsula from the mainland was a vast body of water that stretched from the midlands all the way to the base of the mountain range like an oversized fjord, reaching as far north as a third of the way into the heartland. Epeth Bay. Appearing like a mushroom on the map, with a channel leading inland to a bulbous pool dotted with a few towering islands. Around which sat the capital city of the same name.


    A place I had no intention of going to.


    My goal was the heartland. The realms far beyond the safety of the territory, but not too far away. In those regions, the map was annotated with a few small villages known to have, at the very least, request boards in them. The problem was, how to get there without being seen. Before I got my hands on this map, my plan was to go in by sea. With the tool given to me by Ed, however, it was clear my plans had to change. But, I needed confirmation. So I looked to the ground and whispered. ¡°Jonet.¡±


    Without delay, my umbral clone peeled away from the ground to stand next to me, haunched over the map much like I was.


    ¡°I agree.¡± She nodded after a few moments. ¡°We¡¯ll have to come in from the top.¡±


    ¡°That means we may have to spend some time in the air searching for a landing zone,¡± I added. ¡°Are you fine with me peeing in your pocket?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s your shadow.¡± She dismissively shrugged. ¡°Other than that, the plan is the same. You land under the cover of night. Then, your first priority is to find a place to hole up in.¡±


    ¡°And then I start gathering information.¡± I nodded. ¡°Is everything ready?¡±


    ¡°Always has been.¡± Jonet contemptuously snorted. ¡°More importantly, are you ready, Jone? You know what the Master said.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± I nodded. ¡°He doesn¡¯t care. So long as it doesn¡¯t interfere with our jobs. That said.¡± I pulled her and all my belongings into her world before stepping to the door. ¡°It¡¯s not me you should be worried about.¡±


    As if to prove my point, Jaimess stood from the table the moment I came downstairs. While his attitude towards me was welcome and surely wasn¡¯t one-sided, it served to be a source of anxiety for me. Putting the obvious aside, we found each other good company. Half the time, we didn¡¯t even talk. We¡¯d just sit in the vicinity of each other or take private walks, much like now. Whenever we did talk, it was usually about things that didn¡¯t matter.


    Unlike tonight.


    ¡°I knew this day would come. But¡­¡± He sighed deeply. ¡°It feels so surreal.¡±


    ¡°Four years is not forever.¡± I quipped. ¡°It''ll be over before you know it.¡±


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


    ¡°I know that.¡± Jaimess scoffed. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ a bit daunting, is all. We¡¯re leaving the empire and crossing the Epethian continent on our own. And you¡­ well.¡± He huffed a laugh through his nose. ¡°Only you know what you¡¯re doing.¡±


    ¡°And our Lord,¡± I added.


    ¡°And our Lord.¡± He nodded. Then turned to me to say. ¡°Are you scared?¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± I paused. Both the conversation and our walk to think for a moment.


    ¡°Yes, and no?¡± I hesitantly shrugged. ¡°Ever since I¡¯ve come to terms with everything, I haven¡¯t been afraid of anything. But, I¡¯m still worried.¡±


    ¡°And what does that mean, Jone?¡± he patiently sighed.


    ¡°It means I¡¯m not afraid of failing or even dying. But I¡¯m worried I¡¯ll bring more harm than good to those who have no such beliefs.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I see.¡± He rocked his head back in faux understanding. But I saw through him completely.


    ¡°An oxymoron, I know.¡± I shrugged, then continued walking. ¡°Maybe it¡¯ll make sense if I write it down.¡±


    ¡°I do believe that would be counterproductive to your occupation.¡±


    ¡°And I do believe that I have a clone who can put things in a dimensional pocket.¡± I mockingly laughed.


    ¡°Fair point.¡± Jaimess chuckled.


    With that, we fell into a companionable silence and made our way around the lush gardens of the guest wing. Upon our return to our accommodations, we turned back down the path for another go-around. Wherein I paused to take his hand and turned to face him.


    ¡°We need to be patient, Jaimess,¡± I softly said. ¡°As our Lord said, we have jobs to do. Jobs that I believe to be of the utmost importance. When our reunion comes, our jobs won¡¯t be anywhere near complete. They will have only just begun.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± He deflatedly sighed. ¡°The guild.¡±


    ¡°Yes. And then the Empire.¡± I lifted his chin and melted as the light returned to his eyes. ¡°As our Lord decreed, we will one day become royals of our own empires.¡±


    ¡°And then we¡¯ll have our time.¡± Jaimess smiled. Reeled back and sighed with a little more¡­ conviction.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I stepped in for a hug. And tried not to melt as he hugged me back.


    I don¡¯t know how long we stayed there; and frankly, I didn¡¯t care. I only know that little time passed between us splitting apart and the small pin in my watch pivoting into my wrist without end, signaling the rendezvous time.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t want to speak to your mother before you left?¡± Jaimess huffed.


    It forced a little giggle out of me, seeing him struggle to converse and run at the same time despite the arduous training we went through; if only a bit.


    ¡°I¡¯ve already spoken to my mother. And Aunt Ebbet. I purchased everything I needed to. I¡¯ve had my talk with you. All I need to do now is leave.¡±


    That said, it felt strange knowing that the Archduke and the other royals didn¡¯t see Amun and Princess Roheisa off. The soldiers and guild officials seemed to have been long gone as well. Turning the bustling capital city into a quiet utopia in just a couple of days. Looking around, it looked to be much the same as I remembered it as a little girl. A large and luxurious place filled with the same quiet, yet bustling atmosphere that could be found at the Cole Estate, only on a much larger scale.


    When we arrived at the cove, Amun and some of the others were on the dock of a large ship moored at the dock that screamed the House of Cole from its appearance. While I would¡¯ve loved to ride on it, I was eager to get to work; and more so, excited to attempt something I¡¯ve longed to try. So I turned to Amun at once.


    In turn, he dropped what he was doing to float to my location and stand before me. ¡°I assume you¡¯re taking your leave, then?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± I nodded.


    Noticing the changed atmosphere, the vassals turned and began to approach as well, and before I could think, Amun spread his arms out and stepped in for a hug.


    ¡°I¡¯ll send Jaimess for you the moment we return to Maru.¡± He whispered in my ear.


    While there was the coldness one would expect to be found in his words, there was also a strange warmth that I wanted to cling to for an eternity. I focused on it, held onto it until I remembered that he¡¯d spoken, then I hurriedly nodded my head and he released me from his embrace. Then came Toril, Jaimess, Edward, Jonet, and Giorno, all coming to give me hugs and words of encouragement despite them having no idea what my intentions were in departing. I could tell at a glance that they were all sad to see me go. I could hear the rhythm of their breath, of the pace of their heartbeats. The feeling was so confounding, it resonated with me so much that I was nearly brought to tears. I did consider Aunt Ebbet my true mother, but she raised me sternly, rather than lovingly. Because of that, this was the first time I ever felt as if I truly had a family instead of a group of coworkers. Despite me having been around them for so long.


    I only hated that it took me until now to realize it.


    Rather than letting it drag me down, I held onto the feeling and used it to solidify my resolve, to motivate me to not fail Amun with the task he¡¯s given me. And so with a final nod to everyone, I turned, flicked a bit of ice mana into the choppy waters, and skipped off of the dock and onto a plate of white ice. There, I took a second to reach into my back and down one of the many potions I purchased from the market. This one, Rich Blood, had a metallic taste and viscous texture that reminded me all too much of its namesake. But I pushed past it to down the entire bottle. Then turned to the waters before me to mentally prepare myself and go over the theories in my mind.


    I recalled the fascination and excitement I felt after reading Amun¡¯s lessons on what he called, fluid dynamics. Specifically, on a subsection, he¡¯d written down, about a phenomenon called supercavitation. I¡¯ve read and reread that short paragraph so many times that I could recall it word for word at this point.


    ¡®Supercavitation.¡¯ I chanted to myself. ¡®A condition in which a skin of water vapor or gas flows around a submerged projectile or body, creating a frictionless environment and thus enabling high-speed movement. Form a cone of gas around your body, with the nose above your head. Refine it until you get a system that works. And watch out for rocks and fish.¡¯


    The last sentence was what made me apprehensive to try it for so long, though with his later lessons, that apprehensiveness turned into unbridled confidence.


    It happened after I awakened my cores. Then, in his applications of sound magic, he wrote about sonar. A sonic pulse that would spread outwards in all directions and bounce off of rocks, ships, and even lifeforms, sending the waves back to me in mere seconds. to reveal their distance, location, and relative size.¡¯ With those two theories in mind, I dove into the frigid depths, propelling myself forward with water manipulation while I readied my sound magic in my mouth and imbued my body with thermal magic.


    From the heat of my skin and my increasing speed, a thin layer of steam soon formed around my body, decreasing the drag of the water on my body and, in turn, increasing the propulsive force caused by the water being squeezed around me until all that remained before my eyes was a blue-black blur. With that out of the way, I made popping and clicking sounds with my mouth. In turn, bringing an abundantly clear environment into view. A phantom visage of the seafloor, dozens of kilometers below, bloomed further away from me with each passing second. And the fast realm sitting between was filled to the brim with creatures of all shapes and sizes.


    While they were generally spread out, I was sure that there were more of them than there were people in the entire Empire, perhaps even all of Maru. There were so, so many of them. Ranging from fish and crabs that were no larger than my fingernail to sea-floor dwelling leviathans that dwarfed anything that lived on the land in both size and ferocity. Each sonar pulse brought out the next act in a never-ending performance under the sea. At any one moment, creatures were chasing or being chased; ambushing or being ambushed; hiding or searching; eating or being eaten, in an ongoing cycle that no one on the surface seemed to be privy to. It was as breathtaking as the environment itself. Which only increased the irony of me breaching the surface every hour or so to take in a few gulps of fresh air and set my sights on the drab lands I was headed to; causing me to sort of lament that I couldn¡¯t spend more time in this vast blue world.


    That wasn¡¯t to say that my time there was short. Contrarily, it took nearly three hours of swimming for me to see the glistening cities lining the coastline like a strip of light protesting to the black sky. With the main leg of my journey complete. I formed an ice sheet to eat a few cubes of pemmican and mess around with my thermal magic for a bit before I took my new piece of equipment from Jonet. It was nothing more than a harness stitched to a few bits of fabric that in turn was pulled taut over a wooden frame. Despite that, it was delightfully comfortable, and I was pleased to find that the many attachment points were easily accessible from the seat.


    I took a moment to secure my waterskin under the left armrest and tuck a few pieces of fruit and pemmican in the side pocket before I secured my rucksack to the backrest and took a seat on the edge of my ice sheet.


    After creating a gust of wind with manipulation and thermal magic, I pulled the cord on my harness. Allowing a bow-shaped sheet of fabric to unfurl and catch in the tempest. Plucking me from the expansive blue surface.


    My flight was much less profound than my race across the sea. I¡¯ve flown many times before with elemental manipulation. The only difference now was the blissful silence that came at no expense to my mana. What was more evident was the stark contrast between the blue world and the black sky. The ocean made its presence known through a constant variation of sound. In turn, I was only made aware of the wind by the gusts passing over my ears and the soft fluttering of my parachute. In the ocean, I was surrounded by life I could hardly see without magic. Here, I was alone in a vast emptiness that I could gaze all upon and see nothing, even with magic.


    I eventually arrived above the Epethian heartland by around four in the morning. With the glasses Amun gave us, I could see the worn roads stretching through the rolling hills of this somewhat lush land as if it were high noon. Though everything was a dull gray, and instead of forests, those hills were filled with farms larger than anything I¡¯d ever seen before. Traveling further east brought me past more and more farms, ever nearer to the mountain range and ever closer to sunrise. I started to wonder if I should ascend, double back to spend a day at sea, and try again tomorrow night. Only to see exactly what I was looking for.


    Perhaps a few hundred kilometers to the southeast was a rather vast lake that fed into a meandering river. While a large island sat near the center of the body of water, I was more interested in the rocky terrain skirting the waters on the eastern side. I felt the likelihood of there being some sort of cave or chasm I could wriggle into was high. So I hovered above the lake and brought Jonet out before I jumped.


    While she used her darkness to store the entire construct in our pocket dimension, I used my magic to first silence our movements, then used manipulation to slow my descent and disrupt the water tension enough to dive into the still surface unharmed and give the lake a quick sonar pulse.


    As I expected, it was even deeper than it was large. And being this close to civilization, there weren¡¯t many creatures that posed a significant threat to anyone, nor were there many creatures swimming about near the surface. Rather, most of the wildlife here was found near the floor. Snails, bottom-feeding fish, and a whole army of crabs. As for what I was looking for, there was a modest cave system beneath the central island, but that was far too conspicuous for my needs. Especially when there were around a half-dozen cave entrances lining the entire coast. What was the most eye-catching of all, however, was the deepest opening in the lake.


    It was near the bottom of the slope that rose up to form the northern shores. Close enough to the mountains for foraging trips and far enough away from the beginnings of civilization to the southwest and west. With my approach, I started to get a clearer picture of the cave''s interior. In short, it was shaped like a horn. Wherein the opening led to a spiral cave that opened to a modestly sized underground lake. Though it had its downsides, I felt as if it was the safest place to settle in for the night. So I quickly corkscrewed through the chasm and slowly breached the surface until my eyes were just above the still waters.


    Much to my delight, it was a relatively spacious, single-room cave with many holes and small tunnels in the ceiling to provide some much-needed circulation and, hopefully, bring in some light. On top of that, the entrance was more than wide enough for a few of me, which meant that with a bit of bait and maybe some luck, I¡¯d be able to fish in the comfort of my impromptu home. Lastly, there was a cave wide enough for me to fit through near the back of the room. The only problem was, it was near the ceiling.


    After stepping onto the main platform, my first action was silencing the room and calling Jonet out. Together, we set up a stockpile of wood and stone, then split up so that I could set up my tent, field chair, and a campfire to put on some food while she stepped through the shadows of the cave to see where the dozens of tunnels, chutes, and chasms led. I managed to not only finish my meal but set up a rather lavish sleeping setup for myself before Jonet returned with rather intriguing news, and shortly after, the waters next to me began emitting a radiant, sapphire light into the cave. Courtesy of the sun outside.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s good.¡± Jonet snorted, then turned to me. ¡°What¡¯d you find?¡±


    ¡°I found that we¡¯re here.¡± I pointed to a rather remote region directly north of the Epethian capital region. ¡°Under Crag Lake, three hundred or so kilometers north of the empire¡¯s furthest border. The closest major cities are Droria, just twelve kilometers to the west. Oretta, thirty or so kilometers to the northwest. And Colis, fifty kilometers due south. What about you?¡±


    ¡°This cave meanders for a few hundred meters before stopping at a dead end near the surface.¡± She moved her pointer finger from the cave above to wave it across the walls and ceiling. ¡°A few of these holes eventually make their way to the surface, but it¡¯s far too small for anything to pass through. I suggest you use those for chimneys and air circulation and use the cave to make paths to the surface.¡±


    ¡°Then that¡¯s what we¡¯ll do.¡± I nodded. Then stood to put out the fire and seal off the high cave with a wall of ice. ¡°Come sundown, that is.¡±

 71 - Egression

    Amun.


    ***


    Jonet¡¯s departure seemed to be the catalyst that brought a wave of melancholia over each of my vassals. Leaving Roheisa, Lucia, and I to study the lot of them for a few moments before turning back to the job at hand.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get this show on the road,¡± I called over my shoulder after a few more moments, prompting the others to slowly turn and waddle onboard to claim their rooms.


    ¡°That¡¯s a nice ship,¡± Roheisa called from the deck of her battleship-esque vessel. ¡°What¡¯s Her Name?¡±


    ¡°The Broad Bottom Packet.''¡± I sighed. ¡°I think I¡¯ll call her Packy, for short.¡±


    ¡°Mine is named Valoo.¡± Roheisa proudly proclaimed with a wave across the main deck.


    It looked like a destroyer had been pulled from a naval yard to have its cannons stripped and its hull miniaturized to a length of around thirty meters before being trimmed with deep red paint that contrasted nicely with the teak decking. Most importantly¡­


    ¡®That¡¯s actually a pretty good name. It has... character.¡¯ I mentally recoiled in surprise. Then returned my gaze to her to speak business. ¡°It¡¯ll take us around a day at full speed to reach the shores. That¡¯s including our leisure breaks."


    ¡°Leisure breaks?¡± The Princess raised her brow, pivoted her weight to her other foot, and dramatically tilted her head. ¡°As in?¡±


    ¡°I need to do some fishing.¡± I shrugged my hands. ¡°But, that comes later. We¡¯ll be setting sail here in a few minutes.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± She turned with nothing more than a nod. ¡°We¡¯ll be right behind you.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know if she was eager to get going or what, but I was in no rush at all. We had twenty-nine days to traverse the nineteen or so thousand kilometers stretching between our three destinations. A distance far larger than the diameter of the Earth, but with the speeds at which we could fly, we could traverse such a distance in a mere day if we wanted to. As such, there was much I wanted to accomplish during this journey and plenty of time in which to do it. So with that in mind, I turned to walk past my vassals tending the tie-downs and called Ed back to the stern to man the ¡®engine¡¯ while I settled behind the helm.


    Once the all-clear had been given from the others and the enchantment had been primed with Ed¡¯s force magic, I sent a wave towards Roheisa, then eased on the thrusters a bit to push us away from the docks and ease us out of the cove. After returning my wave, the Princess gestured to Lucia at Valoo¡¯s helm to have her repeat my actions and settle into a meandering pace behind us.


    A gentle, rhythmic, and all-too-familiar hum permeated ''Packy''s'' hull as I pushed on the throttle. Ejecting larger and larger amounts of Ed¡¯s force magic out of the nozzles below the waterline that, in turn, churned the deep-blue waters into a frothing white mess and shoved us across the choppy sea. With the trim, stabilizers, and cruising speed set, I turned on the crude version of auto-steering and aligned the nose of the boat just to the left of the Epethian shores far ahead. And with that done, I lounged back in my chair and sparked up a smoke. Then turned to see my vassals staring back to the homeland with longing eyes.


    While the Cole Estate couldn¡¯t be seen from here, we were far enough to see the domineering Cast Iron Summit blotting out the northern skyline while just to its right, the comical mound that represented the Twin Capitals was reduced to a mere pimple atop the snowy earth.


    ¡®Four years.¡¯ I commented to myself. ¡®I can¡¯t imagine how much this place will change in that time.¡¯ It wasn¡¯t a long period of time. But I¡¯ve witnessed civilizations decay into nothing and evolve into superpowers in fewer lengths of time. In those times, technology was the catalyst. In this universe, however, I was sure that magic was a far more efficient catalyst for change than technology could ever hope to be. What that meant for the Deapouan and Odissian Empires was beyond my knowledge. I was only vaguely aware of what would happen upon my return. As such, I could only have faith in my forefathers¡¯ words and leave the place in their hands until I graduated.


    Because then, the paradigm would shift.


    With science and technology added onto the catalyst that is magic, I planned to create the land of my dreams. But, like many of my goals, such things were out of my reach as of yet. So I tossed my thoughts aside to smell the vast field of roses spread around me. For the next several hours, I enjoyed the passing wind, the strong hits of burnbud, the subtle tastes of salt lingering in the air, and the general vibe of the cruise until Toril and Jaimess took over for Ed and me.


    Thanking them kindly, Ed went inside to whip up a meal for himself and assumedly retire to his berth for rest and work while I went to the deck above to change into the swimwear Giorno crafted for me. It was your typical pair of skivvies coupled with an elastic neck wrap that covered my mouth and nose. Naturally, wearing such garb whilst swimming would be no different from waterboarding myself. With my shadow magic, however, I could easily place my mouth into the Shadow Realm. Allowing me to breathe the frigid air of the tainted world while exploring the ocean depths at my leisure.


    As Jonet was surely doing, I raced through the waters like a rouge torpedo. Only, I was using gravitational waves to detect the seafloor and a plethora of marine life that was denser than the tanks in a world-famous public aquarium.


    While I swam around, capturing entire schools of fish in a temporally locked pocket dimension, I tried my best to study the strong gravitational waves coming from the depths far below. They were everywhere. Leviathans. Truly massive beings slumbering in the deep depths. Creatures so large their arms and proboscis'' dwarfed the likes of colossal squids by an order of magnitude. A part of me wanted to descend to see them for myself. But the thoughts of bringing a calamity upon this realm just before I left it convinced me to turn back towards Packy.


    Though, much to my delight, my actions were rewarded with the crown jewel of all ocean predators.


    Orcas.


    An entire pod of them.


    Naturally, however, that posed a problem. Orcas were matrilineal creatures who were just as social and intelligent, if not more so, than humans. Their communities, clans, and pods could all be traced to a common ancestral matriarch. That caused each matriline to develop their own unique speech patterns, dialects, and hunting techniques. Stealing a couple would''ve not only turned a community of at least a few hundred orcas against me; but, depending on which one I captured, could prove to be detrimental to the survival of the entire pod.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Still, though, I wanted orcas in my Menagerie. So I sped towards the pod with shadow mana pooled in my hands.


    Once I was within range, I spread the energy in a cloud around me like a squid ejecting its ink. Reducing the ambient contrast until all I saw were twenty-six gray-on-gray whales scrambling to escape my domain. I let most of them escape and instead, sent my umbral hands after the smaller ones. Specifically, the ones with smaller, falcate fins. The females.


    I managed to capture three before the pod looped around and turned on me, and, rather than kill the whole pod, I sped away to the north. It went without saying, but the compassion I showed towards animals was magnitudes greater than the empathy I had for people. Animals were the Petri dish¡¯s retainers. Their actions had a purpose. In contrast, the culture only destroyed. Thus humanoids needed to be guided by one who could see beyond the dish''s walls. As such, my willingness to help the common person was more¡­ situational. Animals, on the other hand, were to be helped, killed only for sustenance, and only taken with moderation. Unless of course, they were abominations.


    Of course, that meant that I didn¡¯t want my companions to slaughter them either. So I led them as far north as their interest would allow before I took to the skies to loop back around to the ship for a nice shower. The several hours after were spent lounging about in my bed, reading, writing, and watching the water pass by and splash on the windows until the sun began to set. Marking the start of our first and only leisure period.


    By the time I appeared on the lower deck, the perpetual hum of the engine had lulled to a halt and Valoo had been made accessible to Packy via a magnetic hook and wide passerelle. More importantly, Ed finished his latest project and arranged the dining table with several long, slender boxes. Already knowing what they were, I grabbed two of them and ran outside to toss one to Roheisa.


    ¡°What is this?¡± The Princess asked, despite her already ripping the box open.


    ¡°A fishing pole.¡± I beamed.


    Her face wrinkled as she looked the fine piece of craftsmanship up and down with disgust. ¡°A fishing¡­ pole?¡±


    ¡°As in a pole, for fishing. Yes.¡± I amiably nodded, prompting her to throw a short-lived scowl my way.


    ¡°Why would you use a pole to fish when you can just use magic?¡± Roheisa scoffed.


    ¡°Because.¡± I settled into a seat on the stern with a groan. ¡°It¡¯s soothing. It makes for good conversation. And, most importantly of all, it¡¯s an art.¡±


    ¡°An art.¡± She rolled her eyes. But sat beside me nonetheless.


    ¡°Besides.¡± I took her line to bait it up. ¡°You never know when you might need the skill.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± She took the pole back from me with a mocking snort. ¡°I thought it was an art?¡±


    ¡°Are they not the same?¡± I paused to cast my line. ¡°Fishing. Cooking. Hunting. Fighting. The elements. Magic. Given enough practice, these skills can be performed in ways that can be seen as art. Beautiful. Just like paintings and music and sculptures.¡±


    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right.¡± The Princess said after struggling to cast out her line. Then, she turned to me with a scrutinizing gaze. ¡°Is that what you were taught as an elf?¡±


    I quickly shook my head. ¡°My mother only told me stories and gave me freedom.¡±


    She looked away, nodding slowly in response as if several questions had just been answered. Though, the scrutiny remained in her eyes and seemed to magnify after turning back to me. ¡°What kind of stories?¡±


    ¡°Stories of Youtera''s culling,¡± I calmly said.


    Her face wrinkled again. ¡°I thought elves were peaceful.¡±


    ¡°Drow." I corrected with a snort. "Because of our affinity with mana, we believe ourselves to be the greatest creatures in existence. My mother believes it, and so do I. Though, for different reasons.¡± I snorted. ¡°On top of that, drow are incredibly selfish and driven. They¡¯ll step over anyone to accomplish their goals.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re still part human,¡± Roheisa reassuringly said. ¡°¡­ half.¡±


    ¡®Unfortunately.¡¯ I sighed. ¡°According to some. Yes.¡±


    From there, the conversation abruptly ended. Bringing about a short period of silence that was interrupted by a fish catching on my line twenty minutes later. After seeing me reel in and store a strange-looking fish in my pocket dimension, Roheisa¡¯s interest in learning the skill seemed to have spiked, if only by a little. But nevertheless extended the blissful period of silence for a little while longer.


    Luckily, that wasn¡¯t ruined by me sparking up a smoke, nor were the fish being scared away by Lucia training on Valoo¡¯s main deck. With Giorno, Letta, and Ed working or cooking inside, I could only turn my attention to the speckled sky, the distant graying horizon, and the other two looping around each other in the skies above.


    While Toril was busy trying to master using his magics in conjunction with his chair, Jaimess had taken inspiration from Toril¡¯s chair and some designs by me to make a sort of obsidian-clad jet plane propelled by elemental manipulation. It was an interesting sight. And so too was the Cast Iron Summit in the far distance. Reduced to a colossal mountain that still towered over the northern sky. Similarly, the lush landscape of Maru¡¯s largest continent had grown to encompass much of the southern and western horizon. Though, we still were only about halfway there.


    With nothing to really admire outside, I turned my gaze inward to the mental ¡®dial¡¯ responsible for increasing the intensity of my passives. An effort that turned out to be a far longer and much more intensive endeavor than melding my mana sight and natural vision into one field of view. Now, I had a type of spatial and temporal sense that gave precise measurements of things in my vicinity and, of course, tracked time. On top of that, I could see and feel gravitational waves and view the world in every wavelength of the electromagnetic spectrum. A mesh of passives that, if it weren¡¯t for my Eternal Eye, would¡¯ve surely caused me to stroke out from sensory overload just after awakening my cores. It was that powerful.


    So powerful I assumed I¡¯d never be able to mesh all of the senses into a unified input. So, as I did with my Eternal Eye, I took the time to redesign it from the ground up.


    To start, I tuned the gravitational waves to behave as mana did for the majority of the human race. Wherein it¡¯d be akin to a sixth sense that registered the energy as a type of radiant pressure; only, the gravity waves cascaded onto me from every direction like I was standing on an omnidirectional shore. A shore with waves that swept in at lightspeed. After that, I chose to divide the electromagnetic spectrum among my natural senses. Like a snake, I made my mouth and nose as well as my eyes sensitive to infrared radiation, or heat. In turn, I tuned my ears to perceive microwaves and radio waves, then turned the saturation down on ultraviolet light before melding it with the visible spectrum. Leaving gamma rays and x-rays to deal with. With there being no source of such intense radiation, however, I elected to have the energies registered in the same way as gravitational waves and readjusted my eyes to shift through wavelengths as needed.


    With that done, I actually looked inward to check on the numerous spells and growths contained within my magical second body. As always, the dozens of red and green souls stolen during my reign as Corvus Tower¡¯s executioner were orbiting my void core like ornaments on a high-gravity Christmas tree. While I still had fifty burning souls, I lost twelve Aegis souls as a result of the ¡®gifts¡¯ I gave to my precious followers. On top of that, my match against Sergeant Velasco taught me that I still had a ways to go in Usurping Life before I could continuously fight people of her caliber. Contrarily, matching the strength of a human was nowhere near enough to bring me anywhere close to Grandpa Lich¡¯s level. Which meant I needed one more group of degenerates to find.


    ¡®Shouldn¡¯t be too hard.¡¯ I grinned to myself.


    ¡°Amun, I have a question.¡±


    ¡®Dammit.¡¯ I internally groaned. But turned to her with an amiable expression. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°When we first met and you didn¡¯t bow to my father.¡± She said, then paused. ¡°I¡¯m curious. If the Necro King wasn¡¯t present, would you have bowed to him?¡±


    ¡®I have knee problems.¡¯ I snorted to myself and masked it behind a long drag. Then, exhaled dramatically before turning to the princess with a soft smile and a curt nod. ¡°I would¡¯ve.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± She turned away, nodding slowly. Then shifted her gaze a degree back to me a moment later. ¡°Then, tell me. Do¡­ do you have an eye for Jonet?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I snorted. ¡®But Jaimess does.¡¯


    ¡°That said.¡± I turned to fully face her with a long sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t have an eye for anyone in particular.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± She coyly looked away.


    ¡°There¡¯s no way to explain this without sounding edgy.¡± I sighed. ¡°But, I¡¯m a half-drow, Roheisa. And, I¡¯m a necromancer by birth. I¡¯ll live for centuries before I even begin to look old. And that¡¯s without the influence of magic. Besides.¡± I amiably turned back to my line. ¡°Romance isn¡¯t my priority at the moment. That comes later.¡±


    If at all.

 72 - Subsonic

    I missed space.


    Or rather, I missed living in space.


    I fully enjoyed having the ability to control gravity as I pleased. But I still missed looking down on entire worlds from the comfort of my living room, courtesy of the Bishop Rings orbiting around Saturn''s moons.


    I missed worlds themselves. Not standing on them, but looking up at them. Here, even in the middle of the sea, the sky was just¡­ bland. Only a dozen stars or star clusters could be found in the night sky. Enough to collectively bathe the night in enough light to pass for a full moon. But nowhere near enough to fill one with the same sense of wanderlust that Sol''s skyscape provided. And a far cry from the vibrant realm I saw cradled in Telin''s hand.


    There was a long way to go before I could do anything about that though, and with everyone else locked in their berths sleeping, there was little for me to do at the current moment but smoke and fish and gaze upon the empty sky while we churned across the ocean. I wound up spending around two hours catching and releasing many exotic fish and even managed to add an octopus to my menagerie before I put the pole away just after nine. After a short meal and a stint of mediation, I emerged on deck just past one in the morning to find Toril to be the only one still awake. After taking over for him, I sent my doppelganger to take control of Valoo and got us underway to our destination. Come sunrise, I was relieved by Ed and Giorno. And with nothing else to do, I retired to my room to spend the next five and a half hours writing, listening to music, and watching old shows through my Eternal Eye.


    My binge-watching was eventually called to a halt by Toril¡¯s shouts leading me to peer over my balcony to see an untamed expanse standing only a few kilometers away. With that, I joined my vassals in hurrying through the ship to stuff any and everything we¡¯d need for our journey into my shadow before we all assembled on the bow. While Toril and I settled into our chairs, Jaimess unfolded his frame to begin layering it with paper magic. Roheisa conjured a steel bucket for her and Lucia to sit inside, then we simultaneously took to the air. And after taking a moment to store the two ships in my shadow, we were off.


    We arrived at the coast less than a minute later, wherein the same process was repeated in reverse, leaving eight initiates frozen on the precipice of an untamed tropical wilderness. With a heavy breath, I stepped away from the beach. Prompting the others to follow me into the brush, thus marking the beginning of our great journey.


    To put it simply, the Epethian coastline was remarkable. At least, it was when compared to the drab, white, black, blue, and gray palate of our homeland. Here, the days were bright and sunny and the land was lush enough to reflect a vibrant range of colors into my eyes. Not only that but the silent snowfall had been replaced with a perpetual cacophony of chirps, screeches, hoots, and hollers that came from the thousands of unseen life forms around us.


    While the others were just as awestruck as I was, I couldn¡¯t help but feel an immense appreciation for my newfound affinities. If it weren¡¯t for them, I would¡¯ve turned into a seizing heap of flesh the moment I stepped outside. Instead, I could use the full scope of my elven senses to look, listen, and smell for potential additions to my Menagerie. Sadly, however, our hour-long waltz through the woods ended with no noteworthy specimens. So I turned my attention to the wood and stone buildings peering through the brush ahead.


    Due to us hugging the beach on our approach, we were met with extensive piers after breaking the woodline. Surprisingly, however, there was no wall, gate, or even a checkpoint for us to pass through. Only a dense wall of brush and a noticeable rim of buildings surrounded the main avenue like a bubble. The avenue itself led from the docks to the heart of an extensively decorated city stretching to the southwest, then continued to morph into the wide, worn trail leading further into the heartland. While it was indeed beautiful, it took only a few steps down the cobblestone path to see it was all just a farce. The lavishness seen in the shops and inns along the avenue bled through only a few blocks before falling off on the prosperity scale. I only saw glimpses of it through the alleyways: buildings half-reclaimed by nature, beggars, vagrants, rogues, and other downtrodden roaming the streets. And much worse.


    Glimpses, but they were there.


    With the Epethian capital being well over ten thousand kilometers away, I¡¯ve always been skeptical of the bustling port city I¡¯ve seen from afar being as prosperous as it seemed. That, and the sparse stream of ships coming and going from the far south to the Twin Capitals told me that this ¡®port city¡¯ was really just a backwater region a heart. Many of the ships coming from Epethia came from the much more prominent cities further down the coast. That said, I didn''t think it would¡¯ve been this bad.


    As far as I could surmise, the avenue symbolized what the place was supposed to be. The individual in charge simply couldn¡¯t keep up with the job. Or, it was the typical case of a tyrannical noble letting their land go to ruin while they lived in squalor. If it was neither of those, I assumed the region was simply poor. Or, they were wealthy in the past but blew their money on the expansive decor seen around us. Whatever the reason, it reminded me of a certain country on Old Earth. Placed along a demilitarized zone, they had a beautiful skyline of vibrant lights constructed. Only, the streets were empty and the stores were full of cardboard cutouts of people and food. It brought some solace to see these buildings having at least some purpose, to trade what they had with whatever visitors happened to come their way.


    Except for us, apparently.


    With them seeing such a bustling Empire blind the horizon every night, it was easy to see why they fostered ill will towards us. The changed directions and crossed streets after noticing our presence; the side-eyes given to us as we passed; the slurs and curses uttered under their breath once they thought were out of earshot. All signs of something I was all too familiar with. Me and countless others: Being unwelcome.


    I was unsure of who the ''villain'' was in this case, or if there was even one at all. Regardless, I didn¡¯t really care to learn about the cause of their hatred. All I knew, was that seeing people live in such a way when the power existed for them to live better reminded me far too much of Old Earth- of the culture.


    But again, they would have their turn in due time.


    Thankfully, no one seemed to want to stop and smell the roses, so we veritably ignored the foul gazes aimed our way and quickly made our way south through town. A few hundred meters later, we stepped off the path for a quick bathroom break, wherein I spotted a snake and a very strange and very large frog and captured them both in my shadow. Thus bringing my total to nine, if I were to count my wolves and the three orcas as single units. A nice start, but there was still far more work to be done.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I returned to the others with a great sigh. ¡°Our next waypoint is four thousand eight hundred-something klicks away. If my math is right, we can fly for four hours, make camp tonight, and arrive tomorrow after another four hours of flight.¡±


    ¡°Eight hours of flying?¡± The Princess recoiled in disbelief. ¡°That requires us to fly¡­¡±


    ¡°Six hundred seventeen kilometers per hour.¡± Jaimess finished for her.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± She curtly nodded to him. Then turned to me. ¡°Six hundred seventeen kilometers per hour!¡±


    ¡°Around half of the speed of sound. I¡¯m aware.¡± I slowly nodded. Then plopped onto my chair with a mocking grin. ¡°I¡¯ll carry you if you can¡¯t fly that fast.¡±


    ¡°Hmph.¡± She turned away with a sneer to conjure a sleeker version of her bucket seat. ¡°Let¡¯s go, Lucia.¡±


    ¡°Toril and I will take point and set the altitude,¡± I said to the rest of them. ¡°Jaimess and crew, you take up the middle while Roheisa takes up the rear.¡±


    With their affirmations received, I cast my most favored spell on myself and then on my chair, pinning me to it as a planet would everything sitting on top of it. After that, I conjured a tiny gravity well with a pull weak enough to affect me and my chair alone. ¡°Alright.¡± I grinned at everyone as I was lifted into the air. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±


    So saying, I increased the pull on my Artificial Gravity Well, accelerating my chair through the air and into the sky, ass-end first. The action gave me a clear view of Toril, outstretching the wings of his chair and launching from the ground with the familiar hiss of a rocket. He was up to my side in an instant, Roheisa and Lucia in tow, leaving Jaimess on the ground, rushing Ed, Letta, and Giorno into a house-sized flying saucer made of paper and obsidian. And with a burst of Ed¡¯s torch magic, the disk was off the ground and flying in formation behind me and Toril a few seconds later. Giving us all the leeway to accelerate to our heart¡¯s content.


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    Once up to speed, I settled the jetstream around me with air manipulation, sparked a joint, and settled into my seat to try and settle on a way to pass the time. Next to me, Toril was keeping a periodical eye on the sky while he read through the books I gave him. And so too did the saucer riders. When they weren¡¯t chatting idly or heatedly arguing with each other, that is. Due to the conical nose of Roheisa¡¯s seat, I couldn¡¯t exactly see what she was doing. Though, it wasn¡¯t as if I wanted to disturb her. Or any of them, for that matter. I was simply searching for ideas. And after finding none, I turned away from the idea of binge-watching in favor of letting my mind wander about the present and the near future.


    At the forefront of those thoughts, was the small sense of relief I was feeling now that the locals¡¯ glares were long behind us. Being instantly recognized and hated by everyone we came across would prove to do far more harm than good during our travels. That said, our destination was way out in the sticks. And even though our clothing and accents may give us away once we traveled to the capital, we weren¡¯t exactly wearing anything that tied us to our homeland. Putting my mind a little at ease.


    People aside, I was thoroughly enjoying the land itself. Though my hereditary affinity made me immune to the cold, I was still a tropical person by nature. Thus, it went without saying that Epethia was far better than Deapou in terms of climate. After all, there could only be so much white, black, and gray until even I turned into a moody little bitch. As such, seeing the dense field of greens and hearing the constant presence of life was a more than welcome change of pace.


    ---


    I eventually grew bored enough to give in and lose myself in a vibe of fine vistas and funky jazz until the sun began to set on the Mortal Plane. Wherein my attention was caught by Toril signaling for us to land. Using my senses, I scanned the expansive forest from above to find a location with minimal life before guiding everyone down to a seemingly random patch of forest to set up camp. With the one-person tents and field chairs Giorno made for us, the task was completed just a few minutes after landing. When all was said and done, a large campfire was roaring at the center of a ring made of eight tents suspended on lines pulled taut between the trees. The place itself was an unremarkable section of woods. Trees and a wide range of plants stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. Shrouding the thick layer of humus in a dense layer of live foliage.


    With our sleeping arrangements set up, we all went our separate ways to either tend to whatever tasks needed tending to or to lounge about before we went to bed. Ed and Giorno went off into the distance, muttering something about making an impromptu outhouse while Jaimess and Toril educated Roheisa and Lucia on how to make a stew with pemmican.


    I, however, did as Giorno and Letta and lounged in my tent to tune my senses for any animals that may be scattered around the place. Much like I learned during my scan above, there were none of the vicious predators I so desired in our small patch of woods. There were, however, many smaller creatures that needed my investigation to figure out what they were. So, while Roheisa gave the others history lessons about her father uplifting these lands after Grandpa Lich plagued the continent, I eased off into the shadows to light a smoke and do some exploring.


    After an hour or so of meandering, I returned from my trip with a slight increase of birds and bunnies to add to the collective¡¯s provisions and not much more in the way of troops. While the wildlife was abundant, I didn¡¯t see anything that particularly stood out to me. But I knew, in a place like this, one would appear in due time. Regardless, I peered into my shadow after returning to my tent and was surprised to see both the snake and the frog taking on their final umbral forms while the orcas and the octopus were still flailing around helplessly, despite me catching the latter pair before the rest. Due to my negligence in the past, I was unsure of exactly how much time was needed for the animals to transition. With my Well being chock full of arcana now, my ignorance on the matter was at an all-time high. Something I resolved to change at that very moment.


    Based on what I saw, I decided to base my hypothesis on either mass or intelligence being the primary variable to influence the change, rather than time. That said, there was little more to do but check on them every couple of hours to take note of the differences. And in the one time I was able to check before a hand swiped at my tent''s walls, there were none.


    The hand, to no surprise, belonged to Roheisa. In her other hand, however, was a steaming bowl of stew meant for me. After thanking her kindly, I pulled my feet to the ground and followed her back to the campfire, where the others were gathered.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never been a fan of stew.¡± She groaned after settling into her seat.


    ¡°Me neither. But, it feeds a lot of people. So.¡± I deflatedly sighed, then took another bite.


    ¡°Speaking of.¡± The Princess perked up in her seat after a short moment. ¡°You do an awful lot of hunting. I assume for more of your summons?¡±


    ¡°Good guess.¡± I frowned in surprise. Then decided to play into her inevitable questions. ¡°I call them my Tenebrous Menagerie.¡±


    She mockingly raised her brows and scoffed. ¡°Fancy.¡±


    ¡°Very.¡± I nodded. ¡°They¡¯re ordinary creatures turned magical.¡±


    ¡°And what can they do?¡±


    ¡°Different things.¡± I shrugged my hands. ¡°The first of them was Roger. He can duplicate himself and so too can his clones. So, I won¡¯t bring him out.¡±


    ¡°A fitting power for a magical rabbit.¡± Lucia chuckled to Toril.


    ¡°After him, I captured Skoll and Hati.¡± I gestured to first the black, then the white dire wolf heeled at my sides. ¡°Simply put, they can track prey through the shadows by sniffing theirs. ¡°Then, Kit was added to the squad.¡± I paused to gesture toward the jet-black fox stepping from behind me. By chance alone, she settled her pearly eyes on Letta, triggering a mist of shade to twist and condense around her body. Aggrandizing the umbral mass into a feminine form that stood around my height and reformed into a visage that even I gasped at after seeing.


    ¡°Caia?¡± Letta stood in shock.


    ¡°Not Caia.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°My cousin is still at the estate. This is obviously an illusion.¡±


    At my order, Kit changed back to her original form and took a quick lap around my leg to rub her cheek against my pants. Warranting a vigorous petting before I sent her back into my shadow.


    ¡°Kit was trying to eat this guy when I captured him.¡± I held up my arm to allow the ink-black rat to perch on top of my splayed-out hand. ¡°Stewie.¡±


    In response to my silent order, Stewie turned his grayed-out eyes towards a nearby tree and leaped after it like it was a full-course meal. After latching onto the bark, an incessant scritch-scratching rang through the campsite from him burrowing into the wood like it was mud. Within a couple of seconds of him disappearing entirely, Stewie emerged from the bark nearly half a meter higher and fearlessly jumped down to land on my shoulder. ¡°He can burrow through things.¡± I belatedly explained. ¡°The deeper the darkness he¡¯s in, the harder the material he can bore through. And after him.¡± I paused for him to crawl under my sleeve, then reached behind my back to pull my girl out. ¡°Comes Pora Bora!¡± I proudly proclaimed.


    The Princess shook her head in confusion. ¡°A death owl?¡±


    ¡°Death owl?¡± I raised my brow in return. ¡°Pora Bora was a barn owl.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a barn?¡± She shook her head again.


    ¡®Goddamn snow animals.¡¯ I sighed.


    ¡°An owl with black eyes, a slim body like it''s dressed in robes, and a white face. They look like ghosts or devils. Death owls.¡± The Princess heatedly spat. ¡°Why¡¯s he your favorite?¡±


    ¡°She.¡± I spat back, much to Roheisa''s annoyance. ¡°And, look at her! She¡¯s beautiful! And.¡± I added with a wagging finger. ¡°She¡¯s an owl.¡±


    "I¡¯m going to assume owls are your favorite animal so you can tell me what she can do.¡± The Princess sighed.


    ¡°Even though I spent good money on those glasses, I suppose you can¡¯t see her.¡± I shook my head in somewhat mocked disappointment. ¡°Pora Bora''s covered in white-spotted, midnight-blue feathers and her eyes are reminiscent of a night sky filled with stars. ¡°As for her power.¡± I dismissively muttered. ¡°I can see what she sees.¡±


    ¡°Ohh.¡± Roheisa nodded with feigned interest. ¡°That is fascinating.¡±


    ¡°Indeed!¡± I beamed, wagging my finger at her. ¡°But, there¡¯s more! The first of my newest additions, Jake!¡±


    Matching my overenthusiastic announcement in kind was a black python that anticlimactically slithered away from my shadow towards the nearest brush. It was average-sized when I caught it and it was much the same now. Though, that changed once it made it a fair way away from the campfire''s flickering light. Once within the brush¡¯s shade, it quickly grew and grew until it was about the size of a log before snaking around back towards us and disappearing. It remained hidden for a few moments after that. Plaguing the camp with a constant slithering sound that grew ever louder with each passing moment. The sounds of snapping twigs and breaking brush were slowly added to the mix soon after. Only to be outplayed by the rising chorus of felled trees and upturned earth singing all around us.


    While everyone else was staring at me with nervous confusion, I was staring in awe at an impenetrable night occluding the distant forest in a shade so deep that even my eyes couldn¡¯t pierce. It took more than a few moments for me to see the matte-black scales snaking through the trees. Shadow scales that were larger than my face and growing larger by the moment. After I noticed it, I couldn¡¯t help but gasp as my eyes trailed to the massive beast slithering among the treetops.¡°You can¡¯t see it." I gasped again. "But¡­ it¡¯s huge.¡±


    Despite its size, however, it took almost no time to shrink to its former size and slither back into my shadow after I gave the command. Leaving the strange frog as the last item to show off to the others. Or toad. To be used interchangeably, in this case, as the ambient mana played a crude prank on evolution and created a poison dart frog that was as large as a bulldog and just as lumpy as a toad. Now, it was the size of a pit bull, and its vibrant flesh was now coated in a pungent and slimy oil-like sheen that bent the light hitting it like it was a sort of umbral camouflage. Thus giving rise to the same pattern it had before.


    Despite his domineering size, however, Gero kind of just sat there until I grew bored and pulled him back into my shadow.


    ¡°I also captured three orcas and an octopus,¡± I added with mild enthusiasm. ¡°But, they have yet to turn.¡±


    ¡°Quite the versatile spell you have there,¡± Roheisa said. ¡°I assume your summons will aid us greatly during our journey.¡±


    ¡°That they will.¡± I dropped my empty bowl into my shadow with a smug grin. Then stepped off towards my tent with a wave over my shoulder. ¡°Skoll and Hati will stand guard while we sleep. Once everyone wakes up and has their breakfast, we''ll take to the air and arrive at the town sometime around noon. So, sleep well. And goodnight.¡±

 73 - Tick Tock

    I awoke from my trance at around 3 AM and opened my tent to see Skoll and Hati poised at opposite ends of our camp. A sight that forced a proud grin to stretch across my face. I pulled a few slabs of meat to reward them for being the best boy and girl in all the realms. Then released Pora Bora from my shadow to increase the company while I tore down my tent and served myself a bowl of stew.


    With a quick look into my shadow, I saw that the octopus and the orcas still had yet to turn, but the ambient energy of my pocket dimension was assuredly being absorbed by their bodies; though, how they would use that energy once the transformation was complete was beyond my current knowledge. I was unsure if I could influence it in any way, but I was also sure that I didn¡¯t want to. The mystery behind it their powers proved to be quite addictive. And, with my magical ignorance, I didn''t want to muddle it by giving them something stupid. Additionally, there was the matter of the Menagerie''s powers as a whole. Not their unique abilities, but the ones they shared as shadow creatures. If they could Shade Step; create darkness or scry through shadows. It was obvious they became stronger in darkness, but I was most curious about their weakness in light. More so, it was clear they sustained themselves from the umbral energies of my Shadow Pocket, but it was unclear if they could still eat and beyond that, continue to grow stronger, smarter, heal, or a number of other things. The last of them all being what they became when they died.


    Those were only some of the questions that burned the brightest in my mind while my body tended to its meal in the canopy. Questions that I set out to find answers to at once.


    ¡®The more I learn the more questions and experiments I have.'' I released Roger with a heavy sigh; though, not out of despair or frustration, but from satisfaction and excitement. After all, living in a world where there was nothing to learn, wasn¡¯t living at all.


    It took just under an hour to test each member of the Menagerie, minus the new additions of course. I learned that the collective could indeed Shade Step but could not create darkness nor scry through shadows. Most interestingly of all, I learned they didn''t just have an aversion to light. They abhorred it. To the point of primal violence, they hated the light with every fiber of their being, yet shied away from it all the same. To varying degrees, of course, with Skoll and Hati being the most tolerant.


    Sadly though, the other questions would have to wait for a later time. So, with that done, I lit a smoke with the Flames of Moil for the sake of light discipline, only to inadvertently imbue my belated wake-and-bake with a menthol-like effect.


    ¡®I¡¯ll take it.¡¯ I shrugged, then turned my sights to the gray-clad woodlands around me.


    Due to us being so far from the Epethian Territories, the forest was an unnamed and lawless expanse. According to the map, however, parts of it were frequented by travelers, adventurers, and merchants due to the lack of checkpoints, laws, and fees that came with passing through subsequent territories. That said, we passed the main road leading to the southern parts of the empire around two-thousand klicks back and our destination was an equal distance ahead, placing us in the middle of a vast, peaceful, autumnal wilderness that I could gaze upon for hours.


    But sadly, only one passed before I sensed something.


    It came from roughly a kilometer to the northwest. Heavy footsteps, trotting through the woods at a dutiful pace. After focusing on it further, however, I picked up three distinct sets of footsteps trotting in the characteristic rhythm that all but denoted them as quadrupeds. In turn, I felt for variations in the gravitational waves cascading around me to distinguish a relatively small creature, perhaps a juvenile, from a pair of quite massive creatures escorting it directly to our camp. I was unaware of any bear-sized animal that hunted in groups. Regardless, I assumed it had to be a pack protecting their territory from intruders. Or, we were simply being hunted. Whatever it was, I wanted to find out. So I conjured my Artificial Well and fell through the air on an intercept course.


    It didn¡¯t take long to get there, giving me enough time to finish my smoke before their movements started to change. They became wearier and wearier with each step closer, eventually stopping around fifty meters away to try and hide just inside of a brush to study the assuredly strange creature floating above the forest floor, studying them just as intently.


    They had red-rimmed eyes with vertical pupils filled with suspicious aggression. And they were massive. Nearly twice as large as a bear and with the same domineering posture as well; but, covered in feathers. With the face of an¡­ owl.


    ¡°What the fuck are you?¡± I spat in disgust.


    As one would expect of wild beasts, the two big ones commenced the battle with an ear-piercing shriek before rushing in a line. I, however, was serious about my inquiry, so I infused shadow mana into my body to activate the Wraith Form and closely studied the first one trying to barrel right through me. As much as I hated to admit it, it couldn¡¯t have been anything other than a¡­ bear... owl- a Browl. Or, as I liked to call it, a fucking abomination.


    I was unsure how or why something like this even existed in the first place. But it made me feel¡­ uneasy. Offended, even. Bears were mighty and even cool, but they were nowhere near as regal, elegant, and deadly enough to be blended with the divine likeness of an owl. These Browls were crude. Barbaric, even. A not-so-quite eldritch horror in desperate need of extermination, and a stain on the Menagerie should they be captured.


    I refused to stand for it, owls being disgraced in such a way. Not even their corpses would live.


    After the first owlbear skidded against the trees behind me and disappeared behind the brush, the second one lulled to a halt to stand on its hind legs to tower three meters above the ground and pierce the night with another ear-shattering screech before slamming 1,300 kilos of unbridled aggression onto my umbral form.


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    Backstepping out of its arm, I cast aside the shadow mana within me to pull mana from my Well, guide it through the temporal portion of my Space-Time Core, and pool the energy in my right hand. Then, with my intention and a name confirmed in my mind, I lunged forward to palm the abomination''s feathered arm. As if the floodgates opened, the temporal mana gathered within my hand surged through its flesh, flowing through every cell before it drained back into my body to concentrate into a fine point around my core; in turn, causing the abomination''s feathers to gray and its hulking frame to sag in sad fashion before my eyes.


    Still, though, it retorted with a lazy back-pawed swing. A swing that inadvertently flung a multitude of harmless mottled feathers through the air as if it was a follow-up to counter my dodge.


    [Time Splitter. +20 Years.]


    As if to ruin the glee that came from the new spell¡¯s confirmation, the little one came out of the brush to my side with a pathetic screech to snap its beak at my knees. Sneering at the sight, I filled my finger with gravity mana and flicked a bullet at the little bastard. The beast backpedaled after my spell made contact. Transferring all the energy needed to lift it off of the ground just before its limbs unnaturally snapped into its body, forcing a pitiful cry from its lungs that competed against the sounds of wrenching bone and spurting blood.


    With a final, sad screech, the relentless pull of gravity crushed the baby abomination into a dense sphere of dripping flesh. Not wasting any more time, I flicked a bit more gravity mana at the browl ball, then spun on my heels to pitch an imaginary baseball at its aged parent.


    The ball rushed past my shoulder in the next second to bore through the grayed beak and continue on through its body to shred the patch of forest behind it, then blew the beast to bits through the force of its wake. Mangled flesh flew in every direction. coating the destroyed flora in a thick layer of steaming blood and viscera.


    After turning about once again, I saw that the first browl had recovered and had spent the time thus far lumbering back to the battlefield at a cautious pace. With the beast''s family dispatched, however, such caution was thrown to the wind. Thunderous strides brought it to full speed and kept it there as it shoulder-checked tree trunks and outcroppings alike. And with a final kick off the ground, the browl tilted its head and lunged its beaked maw at my unguarded throat. Only for its face, head, and spine to be obliterated after coming into contact with my Void Skin, leaving two steaming piles of blood, organs, and feathery limbs to tumble to a violent halt behind me.


    Much to my chagrin, though, the spell also destroyed my clothes. Leaving me stark naked in the middle of a gory patch of silent woods.


    I decided to test another experiment while I changed and let a few members of the Menagerie out. Namely, Jake, Gero, Roger, Stewie, and Kit, all of whom turned to devour the scattered remains the moment they stepped out. Answering one question, and yet adding another. With at least that out of the way, I then recalled the troops and took to the air to read through the contents of my new spell while I fell back to camp at a leisurely pace.


    [Time Splitter - The life expectancy; or lifespan, of a creature is split or reduced by a length of time determined before casting. This split time is then stored within the caster, leaving the target with the difference. The spell can then be used in reverse to give that stolen time to another, or yourself. Extending your or their natural lifespans.]


    [Split Time: 20 Years.]


    As intended, it was basically my Leech Hand but with Time magic. Only, my touch had a sort of forced-aging effect rather than draining my target¡¯s health on the spot. With it, a juvenile creature like the baby browl would have lived on for only a few more years before the complications associated with old age began to set in; inversely, that remained true for its second use. Wherein an elder human with a life expectancy of six or so decades would age backward for the number of years given. Or perhaps even regress on the spot.


    With that out of the way, I closed my spellbook and sped to camp to find the others shuffling around in the dark. After noticing me, Roheisa jogged to my side to squint intently through her glasses and ask. ¡°What were those noises?¡±


    ¡°Browls,¡± I off-handedly said. ¡°They¡¯re dead, so you all can go back to sleep.¡±


    ¡°Browls?¡± She recoiled in confusion. Only to shrug the matter aside a second later. ¡°Well, dead or not, they served as a good wake-up call. I doubt any of us can go back to sleep.¡±


    So saying, Roheisa gestured to the others, eating breakfast, conducting morning hygiene, or tearing down their tents in the pre-dawn ambiance. Judging from that alone, I assumed they''d be ready to leave in under fifteen minutes. Placing us at our destination at around nine or ten in the morning.


    ¡°Alright then. We¡¯ll take off when everyone¡¯s ready,¡± I waved over my shoulder. Then stepped through the shadows to return to my perch and lounge for the half-hour it took for the others to ascend to my altitude. ¡°Alright.¡± I stepped onto my chair as if it were a boat docked at the moor and got settled, then turned to face the others. ¡°We¡¯ll travel on a south-southeastern heading to intercept the road connecting the hamlet with the territories further south. From there, we¡¯ll turn on a direct heading and come to a landing a few dozen klicks away from their borders to walk the last leg.¡±


    ¡°Klicks.¡± Repeated the Princess. ¡°You keep saying that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an easier way to say kilometers.¡± I shrugged. ¡®Unless you wanna measure things in twelfths.¡¯ So saying, I spawned my artificial well to ascend and accelerate and embark on much the same journey as the day before; only, one with a few more biomes to study from afar.


    The woodlands became denser and denser the further east I looked until it turned into a chokingly thick alpine forest that stretched high than the clouds. To the south, the woods thinned out to form an expanse of rolling plains that continued on for thousands upon thousands of kilometers to the furthest reaches of civilization. Though, even with such beautiful sights, one could only gaze so long before boredom set in. With my Eternal Eye¡¯s digital library, however, most of the transit passed seamlessly. Making the trip nostalgically reminiscent of the many plane, shuttle, and spacecraft flights I¡¯ve been on in my past life.


    Naturally, such thoughts evolved into mental images of such feats of engineering existing in this vast plane of reality. Things that I fully intended to replicate with magical materials and enchantments. If not for the sake of a contingency, then for the sake of the weaker subordinates I¡¯ll inevitably take under my wing down the line.


    After a couple of hours of creating blueprints and designs, my attention was grabbed by Toril, waving and pointing to a winding worn road parting the rolling forest below. So I sent a signal to the others behind us to begin the descent, then leaned forward in my seat to study the road ahead.


    Coming from the south, the road wound and curved until it terminated near the base of a wide plateau sitting at the base of the vast mountain range. From what I could see, no other roads broke off from the main one for several thousand kilometers, where the road forked to turn south and west respectively. Luckily for us, there was limited traffic, if any at all, so we skimmed the trees for a bit and eventually came to a landing at a sharp bend in the road.

 74 - First Request

    ¡®Is he a God or a Devil? Well, that depends on who you ask.


    While Devils can and do indeed dwell among us, some would tell you that the Gods left the Mortal Plane eons ago. Locked in their divine realms, they depend on their faithful to affect reality as we know it. Others will say, in this age, that they too are living among. They and their demigods, scattered across the Planes of Existence in hiding. And yet more will say they live among the stars- nay, they are the stars.


    But what I believe is not the question. I know these things to be true.


    I, and everyone else here, have had the pleasure of meeting one such being at least once in our lives. A Devil, to some; to more, a God, trotting about the realms in the guise of a man. To me, he is all three in a single being. Two sides of the same coin and the line set between them. A mixture that yields the laziest being in existence.


    Oh, yes. Do not be surprised. He is indeed the laziest man I know. But with that laziness, comes a potential for opportunity.


    Not for him. For his followers.


    Delegation.


    Perhaps that is his true power. As a man, at least. To find individuals who are aptly suited to do the things he simply doesn¡¯t want to do, and lead them to success. Greatly so.


    As a God, his power comes from a vast pool of knowledge that seems to have no end. That knowledge is indeed the very cause of his laziness, I think. But, as I said, it was such a degree of laziness paired with his knowledge that allows the vast metropolis you see around you to exist.


    That isn¡¯t to say he is a man of inaction, though. Besides those most-esteemed explorers of his, only a few of us here have been privy to him putting all of his focus into a single task. In peacetime, such sights invigorated the populous and imbued them with an unbendable work ethic. But, those who have witnessed his strength in times of war have all returned to describe him as the same thing. The same thing, in fact, as the ones with experience in dealing with him.


    And so, to answer your question. Yes. Both separate and together, he is.


    And now, here is my question for you: Would you like to meet him?¡¯


    ''The Bithisarean Gazette. Vol. 7. The Royal Inquiry. Pt 4.¡¯


    ***


    It was far too easy to take flying for granted in this world. In a way, it was like exploring Saturn¡¯s airless moons with unlimited fuel reserves. Anywhere on the Mortal Plane was within my reach at any time. Making the act of walking all but obsolete. However, that wasn¡¯t to say it was useless. Inefficient, yes. But not useless.


    In the short time it took for us to walk the three kilometers to the village¡¯s outskirts, I was able to get an accurate mapping of the terrain and log the data in my Eternal Eye for later use as well as finalize the plan I had in mind for the place.


    It all depended on the collective¡¯s decision, of course. But if they agreed, I planned for us to spend the next tenday or so sprucing up the place to our standards, as I was confident that such a relatively small investment would pay off dividends in the future. Naturally, the first step towards achieving that was gaining their trust. Luckily, however, my senses were hinting at the fact that this town was in a state of desperation. And despair brought as much caution as it did hope. As such, this had to be approached carefully. So I halted the party a few ways away from the town for a last word.


    ¡°I¡¯m aware that our clothes and accents may give us away, but don¡¯t tell anyone we¡¯re from overseas, don¡¯t tell anyone Roheisa and I are royalty. And please.¡± I paused to face the Princess. ¡°Don¡¯t tell stories about the past.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me that, Amun.¡± Roheisa sneered. ¡°That¡¯s obvious.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± I pointed to the town with a sigh. ¡°Now then, it sounds like there¡¯s a construction project going on. I estimate at least two dozen people to be working on it, not including the guards. So, try not to look intimidating. And let me do the talking.¡±


    ¡°You can hear them from here?!¡± The Princess incredulously asked.


    ¡°One of the benefits to being half-elf.¡± I humbly shrugged. ¡°My senses are better than most animals.¡±


    ¡°Must be nice,¡± Roheisa muttered under her breath.


    ¡°Very.¡± I chuckled. Then turned to resume a casual pace in silence for the last several hundred meters.


    As I saw from above, the village sat atop a ridiculously wide plateau that, in turn, sat at the base of a spur facing southwest. Even with the mountain behind it, the platform seemed out of place. The sheer walls were unnaturally straight and stretched upwards of forty meters off of the ground. The town itself was made accessible via a slim staircase placed at the plateau¡¯s center, behind two armed guards who were watching us with careful eyes; meanwhile, on the rim above, dozens of what appeared to be civilians labored intensely to construct lattices and frames from wood and stone while dozens more moved behind them to encase the skeleton in condensed earth.


    Once we were around 100 meters away, the guards crossed their spears to block off the entrance and shout. ¡°Halt and state your business!¡±


    ¡°I seek to purchase land!¡± I called back while continuing to approach and eventually came to a stop just out of spear reach.


    ¡°What kind of land?¡± One of them squinted.


    ¡°Commercial.¡± I nodded, then gestured to Letta and Giorno. ¡°Enough room for a tailor and a watchmaker¡¯s shops and homes.¡±


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    After a long pause, the guard craned his neck to signal the rugged men and women dressed in matching brown, green, and limestone-white leather armor and helmets watching us from above. All but a few of them were armed with spears and short blades. Save a few archers and a particularly tall and seasoned man descending the stairs with a great axe strapped to his back.


    ¡°You, come with me.¡± He pointed toward me, then grunted at the others. ¡°The rest of you will stay ''ere.¡±


    With nary a look behind me, I stepped after him past the gate and ascended the stairs to see what was by all rights a normal village in its first stages of life. The platform itself was a relatively elliptical space with four-by-five kilometer dimensions that¡¯d been sparsely and randomly dotted with charred houses, shops, inns, and taverns filled in with winding dirt roads and young trees. From what I could gather, no planning went into creating a proper design for any particular piece of infrastructure. The only order to be found came from the large stone hut sitting to the right of the gate, the neat row of shops or houses lining the mountain, and the cathedral-like building towering above the geographical center.


    Even more prevalent was the stench of death, which was more like a sweet smell to my necrotic nose. It poured off dark splotches on walls and bits of char on rooftops in waves so intense it voiced the vengeful whispers of the newly departed into my ears. It could even be seen in the living, in their weariness and anger.


    ¡°You¡¯ll talk with the Mayor.¡± The guard spat over his shoulder with a manic grin. ¡°Any funny business and we¡¯ll kill your friends.¡±


    I said nothing and only nodded at him to open the door. Prompting a huffed breath of annoyance to be pushed through his nose before he caught up to lead me up a staircase hugging the walls of the foyer to a set of double redwood doors, where he briskly knocked twice before entering. The interior was an elliptical office filled with nothing but an arrangement of dying potted plants, a few chairs, and a giant redwood desk set center before a floor-to-ceiling window.


    Sitting behind the desk was a beak-nosed, tan-skinned man with slicked-back black hair and a lean build similar to that of my father¡¯s. Adding to his uncanniness was the perpetually stern gaze that flicked between me and the guard before he monotonously said. ¡°Good morning, Rodin.¡± Then gestured to me to ask. "And who is this?¡±


    ¡°A strange elf with strange attire.¡± The guard, Rodin, respectfully bowed. ¡°Claims he wants to buy some land.¡±


    ¡°My name is Amun.¡± I cut in with a bow of my own. ¡°And, I¡¯m only half-elf.¡±


    ¡°Well, Amun.¡± The Mayor sat up in his seat and gestured to an empty seat with an open palm. ¡°Take a seat.¡±


    I did as obliged and the guard, Rodin, went over to stand in front of the door with his arms clasped before his waist.


    ¡°Did you speak the truth to the captain of my guard, Amun?¡± The mayor blankly asked.


    ¡°I did.¡± I nodded. ¡°I seek to purchase land for my watchmaker and tailor.¡±


    ¡°For your watchmaker?¡± He repeated, punctuating the words with raised brows. ¡°And your tailor?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I amiably nodded to gesture out the window. ¡°I estimate that they can bring significant income to this place. Speaking of which.¡± I turned back to him with a cordial smile. ¡°What can you tell me about the place, Mayor?¡±


    ¡°He will be asking the questions!¡± The guard spat behind me.


    ¡°This ¡®place,¡¯ is called Hill Base.¡± The Mayor calmly, yet contemptuously replied with no acknowledgment of his Captain¡¯s outburst. ¡°This is a land of refugees, of sorts. Full of we.¡± He gestured to himself. ¡°Individuals who have grown tired of the Epethian hypocritic way. We have resolved to forge a life of our own, out here in these unclaimed lands. We have been here for over three years now and have established ourselves as an industrial town.¡±


    ¡®Perfect.¡¯ I internally grinned before adding. ¡°Though, it seems things have been rough of late.¡±


    ¡°And what brings you to that conclusion?¡± The Mayor blankly blinked.


    ¡°Excessive security at the gate. Nearly all of the citizenry drafted to construct a wall. Signs of fires. Pools of dried blood.¡± I shrugged after completing my list. ¡°You were attacked by something or someone, and I¡¯m willing to take care of that problem for you.¡±


    ¡°You can take care of it.¡± The mayor finally scoffed. ¡°First you can buy land, now you can fix our problems.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I nodded again. ¡°And I can fix all the other problems you may have as well. Your food problems. Your construction problems. And of course, your security problems. All I ask in exchange is land for my artisans.¡±


    ¡°How do I know your¡­ ¡®artisans,¡¯ are not spies, Amun?¡±


    ¡°Because Hill Base is not a place that warrants the need for espionage, one. Two, because your enemies aren¡¯t the type to use spies,¡± I curtly explained. ¡°Scouts, maybe. But not spies.¡±


    ¡°A good answer.¡± He nodded. ¡°But then, how do I know you do not wish to usurp us?¡±


    ¡°Because we wouldn''t be having this conversation if that were the case. And I have far greater ambitions than ruling a hamlet in the woods.¡±


    His lip curled into a sneer but fell back to its placid demeanor in the same instant. ¡°Let¡¯s say I agree, how long will these tenants be staying in Hill Base?¡±


    ¡°For at least three and a half years.¡± I quickly said. ¡°The decision for them to stay after that is entirely yours. And theirs.¡± I belatedly added.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± He sighed after a few long moments. ¡°This seems too good to be true. It appears that I have nothing to lose, and yet everything to gain. What¡¯s more curious, is that that seems to remain true for both of us.


    ¡°That said.¡± He continued after another pause. ¡°I will accept your proposition. So, Amun, here are the terms of my request. You are to be accompanied by Rodin to fight our enemies while your party remains outside. He shall verify the completion of this request. Upon your return to Hill Base, we will tour the city and have your¡­ artisans, decide on a plot of land, where they will reside for the next three and a half years, minimum.¡± He rose to extend his hand. ¡°You have until the end of the week.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be back before sundown.¡± I stood to meet his hand, grinning wide.


    As our hands met, the platinum snake given to me by the guild association jumped to life, slithering down my arm to emerge from my sleeve and wrap around our hands in a tight embrace. Thus Prompting Rodin to leap into action.


    ¡°Rodin, NO!"


    I heard a dull thud land behind my head, but my attention remained focused on the platinum snake. Specifically, on its head. Where a large growth swelled to twice the size of its head, split down the middle, and flattened into two sheets of metallic paper that subsequently detached from the serpent.


    [Request: Extermination. For quite some time, Hill Base has been living at the mercy of a merciless group of bandits. In exchange for two parcels of land, Mayor Johann Silas has agreed to conscript Amun into service to eliminate this threat with the Captain of his guard, Dukeen Rodin, as a companion. Deadline: 9 Hours, 43 Minutes.]


    After the serpent slithered up my arm to wrap around my bicep, I looked up to see the mayor gazing towards the ceiling with an open mouth, then turned to see Rodin shamefully pulling his sword out of the ceiling.


    ¡°That¡¯s coming out of your pay!¡± Mayor Silas coldly growled to Rodin and apologetically bowed to me in the same breath. ¡°Apologies on his behalf.¡±


    ¡°No harm, no foul.¡± I quickly waved it off.


    Eliciting a strange gaze from the Mayor before he broke out with some cordial small talk. ¡°So, you are an initiate?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°And this is¡­ platinum.¡± He held up his tablet. ¡°I heard of the Association got a new commander. But, this is the first I''ve seen of their work. I assume this means you are of platinum quality?¡± He turned to me.


    ¡°It does,¡± I nodded again. ¡°As are the rest of us. Including the two seeking residence here. If that gives you any solace.¡±


    ¡°More than you know.¡± Mayor Silas smiled for the first time. Then began shooing me outside. ¡°We shall speak later. You have a quest to complete. But, first.¡± He paused to shift his gaze past my shoulder. ¡°Rodin, a word.¡±

 75 - Conscripted

    ¡°Sure.¡±


    I bowed out of the room to see two guards standing by on either side of the staircase. A man and a woman, both with olive skin, black hair, and the same tri-toned armor as Rodin and the guards outside. Though, instead of spears, they were aptly armed with a short sword paired with a slew of daggers.


    With a sidestep to a bench placed by the door, I plopped myself down and threw an amiable smile at my supervisors. ¡°May I smoke?¡±


    ¡°You may not.¡± The man bluntly replied.


    Shrugging off my losses, I shifted my gaze to peer out the window to my left while I tuned my other senses to the room behind me to hear the Mayor¡¯s sternly calm voice.


    ¡°Why did you bring him into my office, Rodin?¡± He demanded.


    ¡°I felt no hostility from him or his party, Sir.¡± Rodin quickly spat as if he were giving a field report. ¡°And, I felt no mana coming from him. So, I assumed he was the Devil you were praying for.¡±


    There was a short period of silence before the Mayor softly asked. ¡°Do you think he can do it?¡±


    ¡°By sundown? No chance!¡± Rodin laughed. ¡°He may be a platinum Initiate, but he¡¯ll struggle. He''s too green around the ears to make short work of them.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Mayor Silas replied after a short pause. ¡°And, why did you attack him?¡±


    ¡°I- I was startled. Sir.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± Spat the woman to my left.


    ¡°I just thought of something a friend said the other day, is all.¡± I shrugged.


    Both of them squinted at me curiously but said or did nothing until Rodin emerged with a disgruntled frown and a crude gesture for me to follow him outside and into the squat hut sitting next to the gate.


    The interior of the barracks was nothing more than a large, musty barn filled with chairs, tables, and around a dozen guards that all rose to slap their fists against their chests as we entered. Other than that, there was only a trapdoor leading somewhere below and a few private rooms that I assumed were offices for Rodin and the cleft-chinned axe-wielding young man he approached.


    ¡°This is Amun.¡± He threw his arm at me. ¡°Mayor Silas conscripted him to destroy the bandits and I¡¯m to go with him. Keep an eye on his friends outside, and notify the Mayor upon our return.¡±


    ¡°Yes Sir.¡± The assumed Lieutenant saluted. ¡°When can we expect you back?¡±


    To that, Rodin only turned to me with raised brows.


    ¡°Couple of hours.¡± I shrugged. Causing a few chuckles from the crowd that was silenced by a mere glance from Rodin. ''Impressive.'' I internally nodded. Then added to my words. ¡°Before that, I need to ask if any of the bandits were killed during the last raid; and if so, did you keep any of their gear?¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± Rodin proudly boomed and gave a wave to one of his subordinates. ¡°We killed two of the bastards. We keep their gear in a chest, waiting to be recycled.¡±


    ¡°Two out of how many?¡± I curtly asked.


    ¡°Around thirty,¡± Rodin grunted. ¡°Around half of them are Initiates like yourself.¡±


    I stayed silent until his subordinate returned with a satchel, a pair of gloves, a sword, and some apologetic words about the items being all he could carry.


    I silently thanked the runner before Rodin could potentially berate or praise his subordinate and grabbed the pair of gloves, then shifted my gaze to Rodin as I turned for the door. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    I heard him tut in annoyance behind me and pause before he followed me out, down the steps, and past the gate to where the party was waiting.


    ¡°Okay, so, this is Rodin.¡± I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. ¡°He¡¯s coming to watch me kill some bandits. So, we¡¯ll be back.¡±


    ¡°Bandits?¡± The princess incredulously asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I sighed. ¡°Bandits. That was the deal to get you two plots of land here.¡± I gestured to Letta and Giorno, then turned to Rodin. ¡°Now, don¡¯t jump.¡± So saying, I threw the gloves on the floor and opened my shadow to allow Skoll and Hati to trot out from behind me, causing Rodin to hilariously leap back in horror.


    Veritably ignoring him, the pony-sized canines huddled at my feet to furiously snap their sniffing snouts between the gloves and their shadows for a few long moments while the rest of us and a few of the guards watched with either a keen interest or abject horror. Quite amusingly, Rodin fell within the latter category. His eyes bulged through the shade of his helmet. His hands and feet shook while he gasped through clenched jaws to ask. ¡°What... are those?¡±


    ¡°Magical Direwolves.¡± I calmly replied.


    ¡°And¡­ what are they doing?¡±


    ¡°Tracking.¡±


    After a few more moments, Skoll and Hati simultaneously turned to me with beaming snouts and wagging tails. Prompting me to give the party a departing gesture while I approached Rodin to gently grab his shoulder and say. ¡°Close your eyes.¡±


    I felt a cold shudder run down Rodin¡¯s spine once I pushed him through the shadows and heard the sharp inhalation of a horrified breath after we emerged in the shade of a large pine tree.


    Silently shushing him before he could voice his surprise, I pointed my chin to the left and watched as he slowly turned his neck to see Skoll and Hati hiding behind the brush, snarling at a cave around a hundred meters away.


    ¡°Where are we?¡± Rodin whispered.


    ¡°Around ten kilometers northwest and a couple of hundred meters higher up the mountain from Hill Base, near the western face of the mountain.¡±


    ¡°Goodness.¡± He gasped in disbelief. ¡°We¡¯ve traveled this far in an instant.¡±


    ¡°Be quiet and look.¡± I pointed to the wood and stone barriers straddling the cave entrance. Behind which, two guards were sitting on expensive chairs, drinking water or most likely ale and shooting the shit with each other.


    ¡°Having second thoughts?¡± Rodin chuckled.


    ¡°No.¡± I snorted. ¡°But, I¡¯m gonna take a wild guess and assume you can¡¯t see in the dark, can you?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m gonna assume that you¡¯re going to follow me into that cave, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Well, here¡¯s what¡¯s gonna happen.¡± I sighed. ¡°My wolves are going eat those sentries. Then, we¡¯re going to step into that cave. And you¡¯re going to hold off the entrance while I go deeper inside to tend to business.¡±


    Any amusement the seasoned captain disappeared and was replaced with a disgruntled sneer in an instant.¡°How am I supposed to see you fight by the entrance?¡± He growled.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to see the process, only the aftermath.¡± I scoffed. ¡°And this isn¡¯t a fight. It¡¯s an experiment.¡±


    So saying, I sent the mental command to Skoll and Hati, giving them free rein to rear back on their hind legs and lunge down to dip half their bodies into their shadows and lung back out a second later, dragging a pair of writhing, gargling bandits by the neck. Wasting no time, I grabbed Rodin by the shoulder, pulling his mortified gaze away from the wolves feasting away to drag him through the shadows.


    Stepping out into the cave proper, I pushed Rodin¡¯s shuddering flesh away from me. Making him hardly tumble forward, but giving me the space I needed to create and quickly disturb the magnetic field required to turn my simple lightning bolt into a Lightning Dragon. After charging it for just a moment, I threw my extended finger behind me. Launching a pencil-thin arc of blinding energy into the stone above. Making for an ear-splitting shockwave that blew a storm of dust over the four of us and the rest of the tunnel ahead.


    Eventually, the echoes of chaos waned into a melody of cascading rocks. Permeating the dust-caked air with a still silence that seemed more unnerving than the blast itself. To Rodin, at least. As I could feel his practiced efforts to settle his nerves as he turned about in search of me. I, however, was meters deeper into the corridor. Reaching into the darkness for the Shadowsteel Reaper and giving Skoll and Hati orders to keep Rodin near the entrance without hurting him.


    After meandering through the corridor for a few meters, the browns, silvers, and other colors painted onto the few chairs and odd pieces of furniture started to grow in contrast. Admittedly surprising me quite a bit. I intended to pick them off one by one in the darkness, but I was more than confident that doing so in the light would prove to be just as easy, so I rounded the corner with my spear resting on my shoulder and an amiable smile plastered on my face.


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    ¡°FIRE!¡±


    With the initial screams of Skoll and Hati¡¯s food and the ear-shattering blast of my spell, I knew the only options the bandits had would be to investigate, flee, or stand fast and prepare for battle. Naturally, fleeing was out of the question for bandits. At least until they knew they couldn¡¯t win. And with the sounds of falling rocks indicating a closed-off entrance, the need to investigate had been all but removed. Leaving nothing for them to do except fling a volley of spells, arrows, and even cannon fire at me once I rounded the corner. In turn, I simply continued walking to the center of the room and watched as each arrow, bolt, and most of the spells were pulled off course to impact the walls or those to my flanks once they crossed my first domain, G-Sling. The attacks that were massless, intangible, or conversely, too massive to be pulled away in time, were caught in the Stein Line, the paper-thin spatial domain placed a meter away from my body. The few attacks that did make it through were either blocked by my Doppelganger or canceled out by my Void Skin, giving me free rein to survey the lab.


    The cave itself was a thirty meters wide natural structure, filled with unnatural things. Enchantments to light and give the place some airflow. Three alcoves, placed suspiciously close to a small pond in the far left corner. A hearth at the center, orbited by mess wagons, tables, and chairs that were bordered by a slew of bedrolls, beds, and other randomized bits of furniture. Scrying led me to see lavishly decorated private quarters in two of the alcoves while the largest one, in the middle, was made into a sort of office or planning room. As for the bandits, there were seventeen in the open space and another seven spread between the three rooms beyond. Most of them appeared to be fighters; though, as Rodin said, roughly half of them were throwing manipulated elemental attacks at me.


    I, however, had far more important things to do than test the limits of a bunch of weaklings. So, once the main volley was complete, I pulled out a bit of space-time mana to wrap it around my left wrist and activate the Chrono Dial, then watched their movements slow to a crawl while I casually flicked gravity bullets at the lot of them. After dialing back up to normal time, the bandits were ripped into the air one by one to be squeezed into a massive moon of screaming flesh. Reducing the cacophony of battle to a melodic rattling of metal-on-stone harmonized with a chorus of curses aimed at me.


    ¡°Bring him out,¡± I whispered through the shadows.


    ¡°Who the fuck are you!?¡±


    Turning to the alcoves, I saw a particularly burly man covered with scars and mismatched armor flicking his gaze between the floating flesh and the six, similarly matched subordinates rushing me. Filling the cave with a new verse of curses and screams.


    They approached in a staggered line. Spread far apart in an attempt to flank me. Dragging swords, shields, axes, and spears behind them while their captain remained at the back. With my mind, I turned the ¡®dial¡¯ of mana on my wrist counterclockwise, slowing the bandits'' movements down to a crawl while I casually approached the closest bandit with a bundle of space-time mana gathered in my right hand. I stopped a few meters in front of him and dialed back up. Resulting in him taking a belated swing at my palm, reaching for his face.


    [Split Time: 1 Century.]


    Upon contact, the relatively young man standing in mid-swing withered into a hunchbacked old man in an instant. Releasing a sharp crack and the metallic clattering of his sword hitting stone into the dank cave. The living fossil followed soon after. Slumping to his knees to clutch his unnaturally bent arm while emitting a hoarse, labored scream. He was now so weak and so old that I didn¡¯t even want to steal his soul. So I filled my spear with death mana, triggering the joint that morphed the weapon into a crude scythe that was only made complete by the solid energy extending from the blade.


    After stabbing him through, the ethereal, wrinkled form of his soul remained impaled on the tip of the blade. A shriveled and decrepit thing that remained so even after it fell to the ground and ran off to toss bedrolls and furniture across the cave as if it were having a tantrum.


    From either my death mana, the bandits floating above, or from the sight of seeing their comrade wither and die before their eyes, the remaining five assaulters hesitated. For some, their hesitation only lasted a mere moment before they resumed their rushes with newfound vigor. Paying no mind to the Dial, I pivoted on my heels, spun the Reaper overhead, and sunk the Spectral Blade into the ribs of a bandit attempting to flank me. Like before, his ethereal visage remained impaled on the tip of the blade while his severed flesh crumpled into a gory mess. Unlike the poltergeist, however, the bandit¡¯s turned soul seemed to be composed of an opaque black gas dissimilar from the darkness I could create. More so, the wraith drifted towards me after I pulled the spear away and remained behind me as if to cover me while I poured shadow mana into the Reaper¡¯s hilt. Elongating it across the width of the cave until it hung above the bandit leader¡¯s head.


    Despite my using gravity to accelerate the Reaper¡¯s descent, the leader rolled out of the way at the last moment, causing the adamantine blade to bury deep into the stone. Sneering, I infused the head with void mana and simultaneously withdrew the shadow mana in the hilt, causing the Void Dragon¡¯s Claw to snap from the alcoves to my position, gouging a deep ravine into the stone. While it assumed its normal length and remained airborne in the ambient darkness, I turned the Chrono Dial down, pivoted, and lunged to my left. Outpacing the wraith attempting to murder my lab rat without permission.


    [Split Time: 1.8 centuries of stolen time.]


    Throwing my arm back, I sent out a small, conical-shaped domain of shadow to cover my spear to activate the Shadow Authority enchantment and swing it overhead. Severing the now-fragile woman in two and pinning the resulting poltergeist into the stone.


    After sweeping my spear to toss the poltergeist across the room, I returned the Chrono Dial to its neutral position and approached the wraith with an indignant sneer.


    ¡°You no touch!¡±


    With my mood soured, I turned the Dial down to flick a bullet at the leader. Crushing him into a screaming fetus that remained suspended in the air while I went to work on the others in short order.


    ¡°Stand over there and wait for orders.¡± I jerked my head to the left. Prompting the specters to line up in a row in front of the wall.


    ¡°And you stay there and watch.¡± I spat at the leader. Then pulled twelve bodies from the mass to suspend them in a cloud around me. One by one, I dragged the screaming balls of live flesh in front of me to touch them with my death mana. Forcing a sense of benevolence onto their souls as they were withdrawn and concentrated around my void core.


    [Aegis Souls: 50]


    Once I made use of their souls, I tossed the flesh aside to have my doppelganger loot and store them in my shadow to be raised later. Then pulled three more rats from the reduced mass of bodies to palm their faces with death mana in turn. Shortly after making contact with my hand, their flesh grew pale and withered. Their hair became fragile, falling from their follicles. Their muscles atrophied, their bones weakened, and their eyes rolled back into their skulls as a labored last breath escaped their lungs. In return, that energy- that life came rushing into my spiritual body to form an ethereal heart that thumped alongside my own. Pumping necrotic energy through my physical body to supercharge every cell of my being far beyond normal limits.


    With this new Usurped Life, I felt like I could run a dozen marathons. Like I could get hit by a truck and walk away unscathed. It felt like I had artificial red blood cells again. I felt like a superhuman. But, one, I knew I was nowhere close to such things. And two, I knew from experience that I was still subject to pain. Which made the next part all the more difficult.


    Due to both the pain and the backlash, I haven''t Usurped much Strength. Only enough to put me on par with humans. Naturally, that turned out to be quite an excruciating process. And the aftereffects of my body holding more strength than it could contain made me apprehensive to try it again. Usurped life served as the counter to that effect. And though it didn¡¯t dull the pain of the process, it did keep me from breaking myself by going beyond my limits. And so, with a deep breath, I activated my spell and palmed the last two rats'' faces.


    The moment it made contact, white fire shot up my hand, through my arm, and into my torso where it bloomed like a supernova. Sending radiant pain through every fiber of my being while they, in turn, were reduced to shriveled vegetables on the brink of organ failure. In spite of my monstrously high pain tolerance, the process was agonizing. The fire and acid in my muscles were akin to the stories that were shared of early-generation exoskeletons being installed in a conscious body. The way my bones felt like they were creaking, cracking, and burning the muscles lining them reminded me of growing new implants, augments, and organs in their bodies in real time with nanotech processes that mimicked cell division. On top of that, it felt like I was undergoing surgery with no anesthesia; or, as if I¡¯d suffered a battlefield wound and was stuck in the middle of nowhere. Bleeding out and waiting for Doc. It was torture. But I held my composure, for the most part. Emitting only a few choking coughs and despaired groans throughout the entire process.


    Thankfully, the leader wasn¡¯t in any position to have seen my moment of weakness; though, the same couldn¡¯t be said for Rodin. Regardless, I released my spear and a pocket of darkness overhead once recovered, then relaxed the pull of gravity on the leader to unfurl him and position him in front of me.


    ¡°Are you angry?¡± I amiably asked. ¡°Does it upset you to see your comrades die without a chance to fight back? All while you remained helpless?¡±


    He spat in my face. Or, he tried to. Only for the G-Sling to drag it into an orbit around my head and flick it back at him. ¡°Fuck you, dirty elf!¡±


    "I''m only a half-elf." I snorted, throwing out a quick jab to the throat. Then leaned forward to amiably stare at him until he stopped choking. ¡°Now, answer my question.¡± I slapped him. ¡°Did seeing your comrades die without a fighting chance make you angry?¡± I punched him. ¡°Does the fact that you''ll die the same way make you enraged?¡± I kicked him. ¡°Are you furious?" I slapped him again. "Do you want to avenge your comrades?¡±


    ¡°LET ME DOWN SO I CAN FUCKIN¡¯ KILL YOU!¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I snorted. Then let the Reaper fall from the ceiling like a death trap in an ancient tomb to impale him through the back.


    ¡°I''m employing your wrath.¡±


    The leader''s violent demise resulted in a strange wraith poised on the Spectral Blade¡¯s tip. It had a clearly defined head made from the same opaque gas as the other wraiths; only, it was strongly defined to the point that it was an almost solid shape formed in the strong likeness of a crowned skull. A Dread Wraith, according to Grandpa Lich''s necrotic bestiary.


    With the ¡®threats¡¯ eliminated, I told the dread wraith to wait with the others while I gave myself a quick post-battle assessment. With my reserve of stolen souls topped off and my Usurped Life up to an acceptable level for the time being, I felt as if I was fully prepared to face any potential challenges I¡¯d come across at the academy. Naturally, that extended to my Usurped Strength as well. However, many unanswered questions remained in orbit of my understanding of the spell.


    After its first usage, my strength had risen to such a level that I was just above the average in comparison to the common man but still below average in comparison to an athlete and weak in comparison to the average adventurer. With the strength of two men added on top of that, I hoped that I was at least close to the realm of super-strength. But, if the spell was anything like my Abyssal Armor, I still had a fair way to go. Regardless, the little slip of platinum dispensed by the runic snake updated my quest- or rather, request. More so, my doppelganger looted the entire cave and I gained not only a squad of undead specters to protect Letta and Giorno in my absence, but a platoon of undead to raise at a later time.


    In all, they didn¡¯t have much. Gold and silver for sure, but I had plenty of that already and wasn¡¯t particularly greedy for more. So I placed it in a new spatial dimension along with the food, furniture, and decor to give back to the Mayor. The weapons and armor were kept in my shadow to be kept for the dead while the maps and notes were taken before every enchantment I laid my eyes on was pried from its housing.


    ¡°Are you done?¡± Rodin groaned.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be a seasoned veteran?¡± I laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me, dead bodies make you sick?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not the bodies.¡± He shuddered. ¡°This place. It feels¡­ cursed.¡±


    Flicking my eyes between him and the wraith squad lining the wall just meters away from him, I raised my brow in confusion and wondered. ¡®Can he not see them?¡¯ Then shrugged the matter aside to pull a random corpse out of my shadow and throw it between us.


    "We¡¯re almost done.¡± I grinned. ¡°All there¡¯s left to do is gather information.¡±


    ¡°From who?¡± Rodin impatiently snorted. ¡°The dead tell no tales.¡±


    ¡°To you.¡±

 76 - Trauma

    Mayor Johann Silas.


    ***


    I should have been more careful with my words.


    I thought I knew there was trouble the moment Rodin brought that knife-eared kid into my office. Truth be told, I¡¯d have rather it been the bandits at the time. At first sight, I assumed he was like the many who came before him. A new Initiate with far too much ego. Or worse, the leader of a group of foreign nobles or royals who took to the land for adventure and ambitions to conquer all they set their eyes upon. I learned that the latter was true the moment he spoke. The slow, deliberate method of talking he had reeked of Odissi. Not to mention his unbounded arrogance. Half-elf or not, to claim he could solve so many problems in such little time with such a small stature was laughable.


    Arrogant. But surely well-mannered. And, it wasn¡¯t as if that arrogance was misplaced. As Rodin stated, I couldn¡¯t feel a lick of mana coming from him, save a few fields of magic surrounding him like an aura. A surefire sign that he was powerful. If being of elven blood wasn¡¯t enough proof of his claims. What was more uncanny, however, was the keen intellect he displayed. His retorts to my inquiries required no conjecture or deliberation. They were instead relayed with the efficiency that came from years of practice. If not decades. And worse, his painfully blunt points were accurate.


    It was as he said. Hill Base was as far from the Territories as one could get without crossing the mountain. It was a backwoods town that hadn¡¯t even established a proper trade route, yet it had mined out a not-insignificant treasury for itself since its inception. We weren¡¯t even three hundred strong. But we had a community that ran deep in the hearts of the citizenry. The only enemies we had were those who sought to steal gold, burn buildings, and defile women. Bandits. Raiders. Savages. Not ones to use spies. And so, as I¡¯m sure he planned from the start, I found myself with nothing to lose. And everything to gain.


    At worst, I assumed he¡¯d kill many, if not most of the bandits before he died by their hands. Then, his party would avenge him and the guards would clean up behind them. Certainly an unlikely outcome.


    At best, I assumed Hill Base would be freed of the scourge that had plagued it since its inception and would gain two additional sources of income in the process. However temporary those sources may be. Truth be told, I was more than willing to agree to his terms once I came to understand them. But learning of his platinum quality served to be all the assurance I needed. And learning that the workers to be residing in our village were platinum quality as well was the icing on the cake.


    However, there was still something that was bothering me. ¡®Amun.¡¯ I tapped at my chin. ¡®Why does that name sound familiar?¡¯ I racked both my mind and the files I still had until a quick rapport came from the door. Turning my unbridled curiosity into frustrated apprehension. ¡®What now?¡¯ I groaned on my way to the door and found Liam, looking over his subtly heaving shoulders.


    Upon making eye contact, he regained his proud composure and stiffened his back into a sharp salute to say. ¡°They¡¯re back, Mayor.¡±


    To which I shook my head at the young scout. ¡°Who is ''they,'' Liam?¡±


    ¡°Rodin and the elf, Sir.¡± He panted. ¡°They¡¯ve just returned.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s-¡± I paused to glance at the request sheet. And much to my disbelief, it had been updated and the countdown was stagnant. ¡°It¡¯s hardly been forty minutes!¡± I snapped back to Liam in disbelief.


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡± He simply nodded. Continued catching his breath.


    ¡°Tell Rodin to see me at once and lead Amun and his party to the front door.¡±


    With another salute, Liam turned to vault over the handrails and roll to a landing. Then disappeared out the main doors in a blur of movement. Giving me a few more minutes to scour my library until Rodin shuffled his way inside with a knock.


    ¡°How¡¯d it go?¡± I asked without turning.


    To which, he remained silent.


    ¡°Rodin?¡±


    ¡°Rodin!¡± I sneered for the second time. Then turned to see a spaced-out Dukeen standing before my desk.


    No.


    He wasn¡¯t spaced out. The wide-eyes. The clammy, pale skin, the shortened breath. I¡¯ve seen it in the citizenry- in myself, after every raid.


    Rodin was traumatized.


    Dukeen Rodin. A veteran of the Epethian Royal Guard, having seen and done the worst things imaginable to other humanoids, not to mention monsters. Rodin. The esteemed Guard Captain of Hill Base, who¡¯s put his life on the line for everyone living here more times than even I could remember. He was traumatized. Something I never thought I¡¯d witness in all my days. Honestly, to see him in such a way was an object of curiosity. It was commonly believed amongst the townsfolk and even the guards that Captain Rodin couldn¡¯t be phased by anything. I was somewhat included in that demographic, which made the difficulty I faced in finding the truth all the more frustrating. Thus with a cold sneer and a contemptuous groan spewed from the gut, I thrust my chalice at Rodin¡¯s face. Splashing the pungent amber liquid right into his eyes.


    ¡°Ugh!¡± He backpedaled through my office, rubbing his eyes with his hands. ¡°Sir, why?¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t ask you again, Rodin!¡± I snapped. ¡°Tell me what happened!¡±


    He shuddered in place after hearing the question. But the whiskey in his eyes served to keep his attention focused on my demands. And he muttered through his hands. ¡°I- it was him.¡±


    ¡°What was?¡± I groaned. ¡°Be specific.¡±


    ¡°The sky.¡± He muttered.


    ¡°Rodin.¡± I sneered.


    ¡°The lightning storm.¡± He gasped. ¡°It was him.¡±


    ¡°The one that coated the sky?¡± I incredulously asked. ¡°You¡¯re telling me it came from him?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡±


    ¡°Unbelievable.¡± I slumped into my seat upon hearing the words. Emitting a few maddened cackles through my nose.


    For more than a few moments after, I was at a loss for words. My mind couldn¡¯t even create a single thought in those moments. It took Rodin to finally clear his eyes and another serving of whiskey to be poured for my shock to subside enough for me to repeat myself once more.


    ¡°He spawned magical hounds, Sir. Direwolves.¡± Rodin somewhat calmly explained. ¡°They stood in front of him to sniff some gloves left by the enemy. Then we skipped through space to a cave ten kilometers away and further up the mountain. The dogs then dug into the shadows to¡­ eat the guards alive. Then, w- we skipped inside. He used his lightning to seal off the entrance.¡±


    ¡®Shadows?¡¯ I raised a brow before interrupting. ¡°He fought in the dark?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Rodin shook his head. ¡°Cave had enchanted lights. But¡­ it wasn¡¯t a fight. In his words, it was an experiment. His dogs held me back while he went on ahead. I heard a barrage of spells and cannon fire. There was a pause. Followed by the sound of weapons hitting the floor and people screaming.¡±


    ¡°Screaming?¡± I leaned forward. ¡°In what way?¡±


    ¡°In pain. They were cursing him.¡± Rodin grunted. ¡°At that time, the dogs led me deeper into the cave to the main room. And¡­¡± He shuddered again. ¡°The bandits were just¡­ floating in the air. Clumped together in a huge ball of screaming men. The leaders in the rear rooms were unaffected by his spell, but¡­¡± He shuddered again. ¡°They were no match for him. He was too fast to see. He killed the leaders with a strange scythe before bringing the others down in groups to kill them with but a touch. You understand what this means, Sir?¡± Rodin grimly asked. He¡¯s from the House of Devils. Of that, I am certain. It felt like the place was cursed when all was done. And his magic was unlike anything I¡¯ve ever seen before, Sir.¡±


    ¡°Take some time off, Dukeen,¡± I softly said. ¡°Get yourself a stiff drink and some rest. And clean yourself up.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Sir.¡± He respectfully shook his head. ¡°Trust.¡±


    ¡°Then hurry and clean yourself up.¡± I jerked my head to the en suite. ¡°The Devil I asked for is waiting.¡±


    ---


    After a short wait for Rodin to get cleaned up and fetch his son, we stepped outside to find Amun and his seven companions gathered in a huddle a few ways away from town hall. Cheerfully ignoring the mob of citizens gathered in a half-ring to gawk at the first half-elf they''d ever seen, accompanied by his band of foreigners. The party consisted of three who were clearly fighters of some sort, one axe-wielding male and two sword-bearing females, along with two suited men and two others who were dressed in an odd one-piece suit and a weird type of dress.


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    ¡®Strange clothes indeed.¡¯ I thought while offering a raised hand and a smile to the group. ¡°Good day everyone. My name is Johann Silas, humble Mayor of Hill Base.¡±


    I stayed silent as they introduced themselves in turn, then shifted my posture to Amun, approaching with a gesture to the one with the weird hair and the oddly cheerful girl.


    ¡°Giorno here is the tailor I told you about and Letta is a watchmaker and gem crafter,¡± Amun said. ¡°Mind giving them a tour while we talk in private?¡±


    ¡°Right then.¡± I turned to a random guard to delegate the responsibility. Prompting Amun¡¯s party to trod off into the distance with the citizenry cheering at their tails.


    ¡°Care to walk and talk?¡± Amun asked, then turned to face the mountain in the same breath. ¡°Rodin and his junior can come too.¡±


    I nodded my agreement and followed after him, just as curious as the others. He, on the other hand, was as amiable as ever. Waltzing and tending to his vices as if he were strolling through a courtyard.


    ¡°You¡¯re a smoker?¡± I asked, attempting small talk. Though I was still a bit surprised to see someone so young smoking.


    Without looking my way, he pulled another cigar from seemingly nowhere and held it out behind him. ¡°Want some?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m more of a drinker, myself,¡± I said, watching Joe reach forward to claim it for himself.


    ¡°Alcohol has no effect on me.¡± Amun casually shrugged.


    ¡°Damn.¡± Rodin chuckled dryly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for your loss.¡±


    ¡°Eh.¡± Amun shrugged again. ¡°I never liked being drunk anyways.¡±


    Me, Dukeen, and Joe all glanced at each other to exchange furrowed brows and squinted eyes of bemusement. Seemingly asking ourselves the same question. However, any attempts at turning that mental inquiry into a spoken word were disrupted by Amun halting us at the base of the mountain. He turned to us with an amused grin as a domain was spread to encompass the four of us. ¡°Do as I do.¡±


    We all leaned forward to watch him plant his foot against the wall. Then repeated the same motion with his hand, lifted his other foot off the wall, and¡­ stood. Upright. On a vertical surface.


    Following his actions was the most uncanny feeling. When my limbs touched the wall it was as if I started¡­ falling towards it. I kicked my leg off what used to be the ground and felt like I was mimicking a horse to amuse the kids. And after raising myself to my full height, the rocky mountain that towered into the blue sky above Hill Base had been transformed into an uneven stone plain that stretched to a blue and white horizon. While it took only a few moments to get my footing, it was an experience that I would never become familiar with. But as always, Amun was amiably walking and smoking, guiding us farther down the plain. Higher up the mountain.


    ¡°I questioned the bandits,¡± he said after a few moments. ¡°I imagine you¡¯ll be pleased to hear they were working alone.¡±


    ¡°As all bandits do.¡± Joe spat. ¡°They live by their most primal desires and are loyal only to themselves. Like animals.¡±


    ¡°In a way.¡± Amun continued as if Joe had never spoken. ¡°They were a twisted version of the residents of Hill Base. Those struggling to survive outside the Territories. Only, they turned to degeneracy instead of honest work. Therein lies the duality of man. Regardless.¡± He paused to finally turn and look down on Hill Base. ¡°You and everyone here can take solace in the fact that they are all dead.¡±


    ¡°It seems I have underestimated you, Amun.¡± I turned to him with a formal bow. Invoking a strong sense of vertigo as the plains below tilted in my peripherals. ¡°Tell me.¡± I smiled after stabilizing myself. ¡°Are you the one who polluted the night sky with lightning a couple of weeks ago?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± He nonchalantly replied. Then outstretched his arm to conjure a phantom version of the same metallic sheet the quest was written on.


    [Name: Amun.]


    [Species: Half-Drow/Human]


    [Grade: Platinum (379)]


    [Rank: Initiate Sorcerer]


    [Well: 18th class Arcana]


    [Pores: .94]


    [Intelligence: 50]


    [Strength: 29]


    [Constitution: 50]


    [Agility: 50]


    [Dexterity: 50]


    [Combat Ability: 50]


    [Elemental Proficiency: 50]


    [Magical Prowess: 50]


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anyone with so many immeasurable marks.¡± I gasped in disbelief. ¡°Nor have I ever seen an elf. Much less heard of drow outside of myth and legend.¡±


    ¡°Half-drow.¡± He coldly spat. Then gestured to the rest of his party far below. ¡°As I said before, the others are platinum Initiates as well. And you¡¯ll find that they have¡­ immeasurable marks just as I do. Although not as many.¡±


    ¡°A Sorcerer with an eighteenth-class Arcane Well. And your pores.¡± Rodin dryly chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re stronger than the Epethian Empress, you know?¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m going to revolt against her.¡± Amun scoffed. ¡°My ambitions reach far beyond Epethia.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯ve said.¡± I sighed. ¡°I assume your ambitions start with the Academy?¡±


    Surprisingly, he shook his head without delay. ¡°Not quite. My ambition starts here, in Hill Base. As you may have guessed; Letta and Giorno will not be accompanying us to the academy. They¡¯ll be staying here, as we agreed. And while they¡¯re here, they¡¯ll uplift this place into a proper city.¡±


    ¡°And¡­ after that?¡± I hesitantly asked.


    ¡°What happens after that is up to your people.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But first, I want to ask you all something. Or rather, a few things.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± I hesitantly asked.


    ¡°First.¡± He squatted, opening a pool of darkness below his feet that spat out a few hefty sacks before disappearing. ¡°This all the coin, furniture, and art I looted from the bandits. Seeing as how it was most likely looted from you, it is now yours.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense.¡± I shook my head. ¡°You have a claim to everything you encounter during the quest. That is the law.¡±


    ¡°I have no use for it, and I don¡¯t want to go back and forth. If I have the right to it, I also have the right to give it to you. So just take it.¡± Amun coldly spat.


    So be it.¡± I signaled to Joe with a deep sigh.


    ¡°Second. Question,¡± he continued in his amiable tone. ¡°Do you want the citizens to confirm the death of the bandits? I can show them their bodies.¡± He cheerfully added.


    ¡®What is wrong with you?¡¯ I shook my head in horror. ¡°No! Absolutely not! The children should never see such a thing!¡±


    ¡°What about the adults?¡±


    ¡°NO!¡± I stomped. Then regretted it a moment after.


    ¡°Okay.¡± Amun turned away with a shrug and took a long drag of his cigar. Then pointed to the top of the town sitting before us and blew out a cloud of smoke to ask. ¡°What do you see?¡±


    ¡°What do I see?¡± I slowly shook my head.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He nodded. Pointed again to the town. ¡°All of you. Look and tell me what you see.¡±


    ¡°Uhm¡­ Hill Base,¡± Rodin slowly said.


    ¡°That¡¯s it? Just Hill Base?¡± He snorted. Took another drag of his cigar. ¡°I see a close community with a backbone. A once-nameless place, made of and by people who¡¯ve turned away from the rule of tyrants to forge their own place in the realm. I see a struggling town that has the potential for greatness.¡±


    ¡°I- well, yes. That¡¯s true,¡± I said. Turning to look at Hill Base from this new perspective for the first time.


    ¡°Okay.¡± He nodded after a few moments. Yet, he was looking away from Hill Base and out into the sky. ¡°Now, imagine yourself standing here in five years. What do you see then?¡±


    ¡°A safe haven with a bustling economy,¡± I answered with equal parts certainty and confusion.


    ¡°What about ten years from now?¡± He asked in the next breath. ¡°What about fifty, or a hundred years from now? What do you see then?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll probably be ashes by then.¡± Joe quipped with a nervous chuckle.


    ¡°But your children won¡¯t.¡± Amun immediately countered. ¡°Assuming you have any, of course. But, what about him?¡± He paused to point to the tiny silhouette of a child trailing behind the crowd. ¡°That kid or any other child in your village has the potential to grow and learn and have children- grandchildren of their own someday. How do you, as the leaders of today, want those unborn souls to be raised in Hill Base? What should they learn about the realm, their people, and history? What values would be passed on to them? More so, what problems could they be facing? Are they overpopulated? Are they starving? Are they running out of resources to keep this industry running? If so, what can be done in our time to ensure the probability of those things occurring in the future remains low? These are the things that should be considered and planned for in excess when creating a civilization from scratch.¡±


    ¡°And you intend to help us with that?¡± I nervously asked.


    ¡°For four years.¡± He carelessly shrugged. ¡°After that, your people have a choice.¡±


    ¡°And there it is,¡± I muttered in near defeat. ¡°The devil makes his declaration.¡±


    ¡°Eh.¡± He shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re not wrong.¡±


    ¡°It seems your ears aren¡¯t just for show after all.¡± I hurriedly bowed. "That was nearly silent by my standards."


    ¡°But you seem to misunderstand me.¡± He continued as if he didn¡¯t hear me. ¡°I don¡¯t seek to subjugate or rule anyone, only to uplift those who ask or accept my assistance. If Hill Base rejects my offer, I¡¯ll return in four years to collect Letta and Giorno. And we¡¯ll leave you be. If you accept, Hill Base will be placed under my protection from this moment forward. But know that I do not protect people directly. I protect people by giving them knowledge, educating them, and training them so they can thrive on their own. We will spend a tenday here for the sake of that endeavor, fortifying Hill Base into a true city. The rest of us will then go about our business at the academy. And when I return to Maru as a guild master, I see Hill Base as a capital city and the greatest metropolis Maru has ever seen.


    ¡°The only condition is that every man, woman, and child be aware of the deal and that every citizen who¡¯s of age take a vote.¡± He sternly added. Whether you decide now, or in four years, is up to the collective. For now.¡± He gestured ahead. ¡°I¡¯m sure we have things to do, so¡­ let¡¯s say we talk again at sundown?¡±


    A deal with the devil indeed.


    ¡°Sure.¡± I meekly nodded.


    As far as I knew, the level of foresight shown by Amun was only seen in royalty and that infamous clan of devils: the House of Cole. Those who¡¯ve been blessed with knowledge and magic that¡¯s been passed down for dozens, if not hundreds of generations. And the Devils who used tainted mana from the Underworld to meddle with death and darkness.


    Thinking aloud, I muttered. ¡°Amun.¡± Causing the half-elf to expectantly turn over his shoulder. ¡®May as well speak my mind now.¡¯ I sighed. ¡°The name rang a few bells when you first told me. It took me to scan through my files to remember where I first heard it. Amun, Grand Duke of Odissi. Heir to the house of Cole. That is you, I presume?¡±


    ¡°It is.¡± He calmly nodded.


    ¡°So, when you say Hill Base will be under your protection, you mean to say protected by necromancy?¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡± He nodded again. ¡°Specifically, Hill Base will be protected by two poltergeists, four wraiths, and a dread wraith. They¡¯ll be the first line of defense. And I¡¯ve given them strict orders to keep them out of sight and out of mind from the citizens and any visitors to come here in the future. ¡°You won¡¯t even know they¡¯re there.¡± He charmingly smiled. ¡°Should intruders get past them, however, your guards would then be in wait for an ambush or counterattack. And, as I¡¯ve said, I intend to train every able body while we¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Train us in what?¡± Joe asked.


    Amun stopped to turn and thrust his hand about in front of him, manipulating the mana into a column of blue-white fire that crawled up the mountain. Blasting the town with scorching heat in the second that passed before it puttered out. ¡°How to properly manipulate the elements.¡± He turned back to us, grinning wide.


    Following Amun¡¯s display, the rest of the walk down the mountain was filled with awed silence. While Joe and Dukeen¡¯s minds were certainly racing about the power-ups they were promised, mine had gone into overdrive. Answering and testing and planning out responses to the perspective-shifting questions Amun just proposed to us. That ended with the mob migrating towards us, around ten meters above the ground. Wherein I felt as if I needed to voice a question of my own.


    ¡°Before we enter the city,¡± I said, halting Amun in place. ¡°I want to ask you. What do you see when you look at Hill Base in five years?


    His mouth curled into a soft smile before he continued walking. ¡°The core of the moon.¡± He dreamily replied over his shoulder.


    ¡°Ah.¡± I slowly nodded. ¡°And the moon is¡­?¡±

 77 - Allies

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°You¡¯ll see, one day.¡± I grinned. Then turned with a wave over my shoulder. ¡°See you later.¡±


    While Mayor Silas turned toward town hall with Rodin, Joe followed after me to disband the mob of citizens surrounding the others with a loud yell calling for a town meeting. Then moved off with the mob with nothing more than a dismissive nod.


    ¡°What can you tell me of the place, Jaimess?¡±


    His eyes lingered on the civilians begrudgingly retreating into the distance before he turned a somewhat solemn gaze to me. ¡°In addition to being a mine.¡± He pointed to the cave behind me. ¡°There are storage depots for both food and industrial materials. They¡¯re brought to those workshops and refineries via a cart system. That alone serves as the heart of the village¡¯s economy. They have a few ¡®notable¡¯ armor and weapons smiths, an old witch who specializes in alchemy, and many geomancers and dwarves who specialize in construction. But they only trade internally. And that¡¯s all they have.


    ¡°Besides the bandits, the only problem they have is food. The soil here is fertile enough to support grasses, weeds, and trees. But.¡± He paused to turn to the struggling fields lining the southern rim of the plateau. ¡°Cultivated crops produce ridiculously low yields. They¡¯re unable to support population growth. They can hardly support the population that exists now.¡±


    I noted his words on my mental list and looked at the semi-constructed walls to make a quick estimate of its construction time. At the current rate and without our help, I estimated it¡¯d take at least a tenday to complete. Probably more. But the enlisted labor meant the citizenry was taken away from the usual means of production and earning. Not only that, but the design was uncalled for. Creating a bigger wall would only rob them of sunlight and make any hopes of spotting enemies on approach impossible. Not to mention, it made them a huge target.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I turned to Letta and Giorno after a few moments. ¡°How do you feel about living on the face of the mountain?¡±


    ¡°On the¡­ face, of the mountain?¡± Giorno turned east with furrowed brows, slowly repeating the words over and over until the light seemed to hit him. ¡°Ah-hah!¡± He finally nodded. ¡°A cliff-side cave! Open living areas. Closed off rooms. Hanging gardens¡­¡±


    ¡°That sounds lovely.¡± Letta chimed in after his words trailed off.


    ¡°Then it''s settled.¡± I turned to the rest with a smirk of satisfaction. ¡°Now then, we¡¯ll be fixing this place up regardless of whether they choose to join us or not. To that end, I¡¯ll be spending some time doing some city planning. Once we receive the Mayor¡¯s approval, I¡¯ll carve out the main layout overnight. Jaimess, Ed.¡± I turned to them. ¡° I need you two to follow after me in the morning to put in the infrastructure and enchantments. Letta, Giorno.¡± I turned. ¡°You¡¯ll be coming in after them to decorate the place while Toril trains the guards.¡±


    ¡°What do you want us to do?¡± Roheisa asked, pointing at herself and Lucia.


    ¡°What are you good at?¡± I shrugged. ¡°Besides fighting.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a compliment.¡± She sneered. ¡°But, I¡¯m quite skilled in construction. And Lucia is great with children.¡±


    The ever-quiet Lucia shied her blushed face into her hands after being called out.


    ¡°You can help with the walls if you want.¡± I shrugged again, then threw my chin to the shy knight. ¡°Lucia can train the kids.¡±


    ¡°Then it''s a plan.¡± Roheisa curtly nodded.


    ¡°That it is,¡± I said. ¡°So, feel free to do whatever until we get the approval.¡±


    With a few nods and affirmative words, they all dispersed to either lounge about or take up patrol duties in the guards¡¯ absence. Meanwhile, I took flight, ascending a few dozen meters up the mountain to violently withdraw a boulder with gravity magic and earth manipulation.


    After ensuring no surprises would befall the town, I descended with my quarry and raised a small platform in an open area to sit before the boulder. Then, began carving out a scale model of Hill Base with void magic. With that done, I funneled the temporal portion of my space-time mana around my left arm to activate the Chrono Dial. Enabling me to methodically draw up and cast aside dozens of blueprints and designs and implement the best ones into the model.


    Four hours of dilated time later, the scale model was presentable. But not as finely detailed as I¡¯d have liked it to be. Sadly, however, the meeting had ended; or, at least been paused. As I could feel Rodin¡¯s hulking figure emerging from the door to wave at me in slow motion.


    I made a few finishing touches on the model before I made my way up to him and canceled the spell. ¡°Done already?¡± I snorted in disbelief.


    ¡°Yah!¡± Rodin leaped backward, slamming his back into the wall with enough force to buckle his knees. ¡°Please!¡± He rose to his feet, furiously shaking his head. ¡°Do not do that again!¡±


    ¡°Yah.¡± I nodded, snickering at him. ¡°I¡¯ll try not to.¡±


    He took another moment to regain his composure, then pushed the door open and stepped aside. ¡°T- the villagers wish to speak with you.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± I stepped in at once, following him through the spacious foyer, past the twin staircases lining the walls, and into an expansive room placed below the Mayor¡¯s office. Between the pews arranged before a podium, the decorated paneling in the walls and ceiling, and the polished floors, the room came off as a strong mix between a chapel and a lounge or country club. A space crowded with a pungent mix of stained wood, perfumes, and body odor that leaked off the furniture and the hundreds of children, teenagers, adults, and elderly people born in the widest variety of sizes, shapes, and colors I¡¯d ever seen in this life thus far.


    Though I fully intended to help them, I wouldn¡¯t shy away from admitting that I was acting purely in self-interest and that I wasn¡¯t particularly interested in answering twenty questions about nothing. So I politely bowed to the room after standing beside the mayor to lay it all out for them.


    ¡°My name is Amun. A Platinum Grade, half-drow Initiate Sorcerer. Yes, I am indeed the heir to the house of Cole. And, yes, it''s true that I use necromancy, and will use necromancy to protect Hill Base during my absence. However, as I told Mayor Silas, I have no intention to subjugate anyone. I only seek to uplift you as thanks for allowing my friends to take residence here during my stay at the academy. And, as Mayor Silas may have said, I will be a Guild Master upon my return from the academy. At which time, I will come to collect my friends and you¡¯ll be given an offer to become a part of my budding empire. Essentially to become our capital city. If you reject my offer, we will leave you be. But if you accept, I will share all of my wealth, knowledge, and power with each and every one of you. The only condition is that everyone who is of age has to vote. Any questions?¡±


    ¡°How do we know we can trust you?¡± a skeptic in the crowd asked. ¡°You only killed the bandits to gain our trust.¡±


    ¡°While that is true.¡± I humbly nodded. ¡°I gain nothing from attacking, subjugating, or mistreating the residents of Hill Base. Other than that, and the obvious, you only have my word to trust.¡±


    ¡°What is the purpose of your guild?¡± another voice asked after a short and noisy pause.


    ¡°My guild will first be trained,¡± I said. ¡°After training is complete, we will go to Ulai to rid Maru of the monsters looming behind the barrier once and for all. After that, we will create an empire in those lands. Then, the guild will set out to explore the Mortal Plane in its entirety.¡±


    There were a few moments full of murmurs and open-ended conjecture until another voice broke out from the crowd.


    ¡°What do you mean by, ¡®uplift¡¯ us?¡±


    ¡°I mean that I plan to teach you efficient ways to grow an abundance of food and house your citizens. I will educate you and train you to protect yourselves. I will teach you how to build things. How to increase your quality of life. To that end, I¡¯ve created a scale model that I think you all should see.¡±


    With a gesture for them to follow, I went out the door and outside to my artisanal rock. Then turned to see the long line of residents trailing behind me. Some of them like the Mayor, Rodin, and Joe were eager; most were reluctant, but all seemed willing to follow me outside and gaze upon the model I created.


    After the paradigm shifted on Earth so long ago, there were just many humans who moved into subterranean or subsurface ocean habitats as there were humans living in arcologies, or orbital habitats, and hollowed-out asteroids. Regardless of the hab, the blueprints, designs, and standard operating procedures found in the Starfarer¡¯s Archives- the one who uplifted us- all revolved around one thing.


    Biomimicry.


    Mother Nature. Reality. God. Physics. The Natural Laws of the Universe. Regardless of what one chose to call it, nature always was and forever would be the greatest engineer in the universe. In the case of subterranean habitats, the humans of the late 21st century and beyond amalgamated everything from ants, termites, bumblebees, and wasps, to a variety of other arthropods as well as animals like moles, beavers, and birds to create vast superstructures capable of housing hundreds of thousands to millions of people. Naturally, such practices had been assimilated into my model. I only hoped the occupants of Hill Base were willing to go through with the outlandish design, as my work would¡¯ve been for nothing. To that end, I followed the initial assumption that these people wouldn¡¯t take to being likened to insects and rodents, so I chose to forgo the explanations and just went for it.


    ¡°To make things easy.¡± I pointed to an open-faced building sitting at the base of the platform. ¡°We¡¯ll begin at the gate. In front of it, will be a checkpoint to document and search any carriages coming to or from the city and to detain anyone who needs detaining. As for the entrance itself, it¡¯ll be made wider, with a central ramp for carriages and stairways on either side. That staircase will be monitored by a catwalk extending overhead and underground embrasures, manned by guards stationed just behind the walls. The gate itself will be at the top of the ramp rather than the bottom.¡±


    I then traced my finger around the plateau, now shaped like a cross between a bastion fort and a ziggurat. ¡°The perimeter will have a few balconies extending a meter or so beyond the cliff face, enough for embrasures to be placed to look along the walls for sightseeing or defense. As for the grounds themselves.¡± I paused to point to the central platform. ¡°Please keep in mind that this is a model that shows my vision of Hill Base in four-years time. And with Hill Base being the industrial town that it is, it would only make sense to utilize the plateau for commerce and tourism. A stone road, lined with a market square and the obligatory general shops, inns, and taverns, will extend from the main gate to a reconstructed town hall. From there, a roundabout will split the road into three ways. To the south will be the commercial districts, while a few recreational plazas and parks sit to the north. And to the east, inside the mountain, is where the citizenry will reside.¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    I paused to ''split'' the boulder apart with the aid of gravity magic to reveal an intricate network of tunnels and chambers. Then, I slapped a long pointer stick to an elliptical space coming off from the entrance. ¡°Entering the mountain will lead one into a grand foyer that doubles as both an indoor park and a mirror of the commercial space outside. The plateau is reserved for the common passerby. The interior, however, is for esteemed guests, family, or those you simply trust. Continuing deeper and higher into the mountain will lead to the inns and taverns or parks and tourist districts that are of higher quality, while the paths leading to the left and right will lead to stairs that connect to the recreational spaces. Below ground will be the primary industrial area, containing the mines, forges, warehouses, and factories.¡± I pointed to the spiral hub running through the boulder¡¯s bowl-like bottom before collapsing the boulder to point at the honeycomb skin on the boulder. ¡°As for housing, the citizenry will take residency in these caves lining the face of the mountain. Each of them has an open floor plan that leaves the living room and kitchen exposed to the air while your sleeping spaces and bathroom will remain enclosed, creating balconies that can support vegetable gardens.


    ¡°Lastly,¡± I added with a raised finger. ¡°Hill Base¡¯s orientation allows the residential units to be heated naturally during the day and bleed that heat off during the night. The interior will remain the same temperature year-round, and the winds passing over the mountain will be used to circulate the air within. More so, the reservoirs I¡¯ll be installing higher up the mountain will gather rainwater and pipe them to the city to predetermined distribution points. Reducing our dependence on enchantments.


    ¡°And that is all.¡± I turned to the hundreds of individuals who circled me with a closing bow. ¡°If you all agree to the design, my friends and I can get started immediately.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense.¡± Mayor Silas shook his head. ¡°You all deserve a feast for what you¡¯ve done for us. The work can wait until tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Until tonight, at least.¡± I politely retorted. ¡°We have a deadline to meet.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s quite the ambitious project.¡± A random guard broke through the chatter. ¡°How long do you think it¡¯ll take?¡±


    ¡°Around a tenday.¡± I amiably shrugged. Causing a deafening wave of disbelief to spread through the crowd.


    ¡°Giorno and Letta are the ones who¡¯ll be staying with you!¡± I shouted over them. ¡°Giorno is a tailor and Letta is a watchmaker. And they both possess great skill and peculiar magical affinities that will greatly aid us in construction. They¡¯ll be earning their keep over the several days. And I¡¯m confident that they¡¯ll bring great wealth to Hill Base.


    ¡°Well.¡± I clasped my hand together and stepped off to slowly ascend above the crowd. ¡°I¡¯ll leave it to you all to decide.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡±


    I turned to see Mayor Silas extending his arm skyward. ¡°We¡¯ll do it.¡± He smiled.


    ¡°Great.¡± I turned, nodding. ¡°I¡¯ll get to work immediately."


    ¡°No!¡± He screamed again. ¡°Wait!¡±


    I turned, descending with furrowed brows until I was standing a few meters away from the Mayor. Staring at his outstretched hand.


    ¡°We¡¯ll join you.¡± He smiled softly.


    ¡°And all of you agreed to this?¡± I turned to the crowd. Only to be met with a wall of welcoming smiles and long, pleading faces.


    ¡°You¡¯ve avenged my daughter. Absolutely!¡±


    ¡°Our hearts are finally at ease.¡±


    ¡°It was something I prayed for,¡± Mayor Silas solemnly said. ¡°I humbly admit that I bit off more than I could chew. I made a promise that, if I had to, I¡¯d make a deal with a devil to protect Hill Base. I am a man of my word. Whereas you, well. Those of your House are known across the realms as devils. So, please take us under your wing.¡±


    I could only grin wide after hearing the words and take his hand in mine to give it a few vigorous shakes. ¡°I will! And thank you for having faith in me!¡± I turned to the crowd. ¡°As I said, I swear to share my wealth, knowledge, and power with you. That starts now.¡±


    So saying, I paused to lean in and whisper to the Mayor. ¡°Is everyone present? Even the children?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He curtly nodded.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said over the crowd, shushing them in an instant. ¡°To start, I want you all to look at your feet. The silhouette of darkness cast by your body is like a true mirror of yourself. More so than any reflection cast by water, ice, polished metal, or even a mirror. It¡¯s a reflection of you, created at the moment of your birth to exist between this realm and the Shadow Realm. One that will remain until you decay into dust. It is, for all intents and purposes, your clone. Your Doppelganger. And I¡¯ve long since decided to summon one for those under my wing.¡±


    ¡°W- what does that mean?¡± A random asked after a long silence.


    ¡°It means this.¡± I snorted, breaking the seal on my Well to change the attribute and dump my entire reserve around the Mayor¡¯s feet.


    Within seconds, the shadow beneath his feat darkened. Began rippling, and spat out an inky mass that quickly took the shape of Mayor Silas. Prompting me to approach the clone to bring its attention to me and try something I¡¯d been hypothesizing about lately: Curse Spells.


    According to what I overheard during our assessment, Jonet incanted her spells with the Kelvin scale. Assumedly a so-called curse spell, according to the Emperor¡¯s outburst. An observation that led to my assumptions about raising the dead. Naturally, however, there was a slew of other questions that revolved around the art as well. Namely, how it influenced known spells. In this case, Doppelgangers.


    Through my studies as a young lad, I learned that my Doppelganger was far more capable than any other clone I could produce, as he too could use my sorcery; thus making him a horrible lab rat. After that, Caia''s clone implied Arcana made for more resilient clones, and that giving them orders made the solid shade they were made of, mimic flesh and blood to a small degree. In this case, I hypothesized that giving them commands in the form of a curse spell would elevate the clone to its final form. If not, then it¡¯d have to be summoned with the technique like the dead. So, with that in mind, I pulled mana through my core, then guided the resulting stream of darkness into my throat as I said. ¡°Johann Silas is your master and mirror. You are to help protect yourselves. Work while he sleeps. Aid him when he¡¯s injured or ill. Assist him in his daily tasks. And share with him my knowledge for the rest of your days.¡±


    As the clone lowered his head in a bow, the light absorbing into his flesh began to reflect and bend its visage into the same blend of creamy whites, inky-blacks, and leathery-brown hues featured on the man himself until what appeared to be a flesh and blood clone of the Mayor stood next to him, bowing at me in a dignified manner.


    ¡®Well, that¡¯s surprising.¡¯ I grinned.


    ¡°I understand, My Liege,¡± he said in a normal tone as he rose from his bow. Causing quite a commotion from the onlookers.


    ¡°My Liege?¡± Rodin repeated.


    ¡°May I?¡± The clone turned to me to receive a curt nod, then turned to face Rodin. ¡°The King is, by birthright, a sovereign of both the Plane of Shadow and the Underworld. The two are connected, you see, as is he and his ancestors. They have absolute authority over all creatures affiliated with death and darkness.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s why they¡¯re called Devils.¡± A young voice said in sudden recognition, followed by a sharp and hurried shushing sound.


    ¡°It is.¡± I nodded. ¡°An apt description, but one birthed from stereotypes and hearsay. In the same way that carrying a sword doesn¡¯t inherently make one good and righteous, or evil and malicious, being born with or being granted a particular affinity doesn¡¯t make one good or evil. As individuals, our use of power is what determines our character. Not the circumstances of our birth or the deeds of our forefathers.


    ¡°But, I digress.¡± I waved the matter aside. ¡°Please, form up in a line, one family at a time, so that I can spawn your doppelgangers and send you on your way.¡±


    Quite amusingly, the vast majority of citizens excitedly rushed over themselves to receive their doppelgangers. Saving the guards and several skeptics who lingered in the back of the line. Regardless, I asked each of them for their names and captured their faces in my memory before I painstakingly used all my mana to spawn their Doppelgangers and issue the same orders given to the Mayor¡¯s clone. Except for the soldiers and the children, where the former was told to obey their chain of command and the latter was told to obey their parents and not do anything they¡¯d disapprove of. In all, I went through the process of emptying my Well and watched the originals trot off to get to know their clones 278 times until only the Mayor was left standing beside me, collapsed in my chair on the brink of exhaustion.


    ¡°Are... you alright?¡± I heard him ask.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I gasped. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t look fine.¡±


    I put forth the effort to open my eyes and turn to see a mix of disapproval and worry stamped across Roheisa¡¯s face as she continued. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to go that far.¡±


    ¡°Eh.¡± I attempted a shrug. ¡°I figured it was a good way to get used to mana exhaustion.¡±


    ¡°Your nose is bleeding.¡± Silas nonchalantly pointed out.


    ¡°Regardless.¡± I turned to the others. ¡°The citizens have agreed to go through with our remodeling of the city, and they have agreed to become our allies. In other words, they are the first city to be placed under the protection of our guild. Although it has yet to exist.¡± I dryly snorted. ¡°Letta and Giorno.¡± I looked at them both. ¡°Come morning, you two will have to start earning your keep. After I get some sleep, I¡¯ll relieve my Doppelganger and carve out the main paths and rooms within the mountain. When you two wake up, I need you to start on the honeycombs first, then work on what we discussed earlier. Ed, Jaimess.¡± I paused as my Doppelganger threw a few scrolls at them. ¡°You¡¯ll be working with Mayor Silas to see what enchantments we collectively have and focus on installing these designs while Roheisa works on the perimeter. And, Rodin?¡±


    ¡°Aye?¡±


    ¡°Toril and Lucia here will be training you, the guards, and the young ones on my Elemental Theories. That said.¡± I turned back to the Mayor. ¡°You and every other citizen is required to be educated and to become proficient in not only these practices but in martial combat as well. Everyone is required to be able to fight. To that end, these two will train your guards. And your guards will train the citizens. That way, everyone can protect themselves and their property.¡±


    ¡°As you wish.¡± The Mayor nodded. ¡°And please, call me Johann, or Silas.¡±


    ¡°Very well, Silas.¡± I nodded. ¡°I plan to have the superstructure carved out and the residential units complete by tomorrow night. Allowing the citizens to move in and continue their daily lives the day after. By then, the wall and gate should be nearly complete, allowing us to begin reconstructing the plateau. During the third and fourth days, I plan on carving out a place I didn¡¯t mention to the citizenry.¡±


    ¡°The barracks.¡± Rodin pointed out.


    ¡°Precisely.¡± I grinned. ¡°Silas, Rodin. I plan to have your forces become an elite strike team. I envision them appearing from unseen crevasses, caves, and tunnels I¡¯ll spread throughout Hill Base to subdue your targets with the utmost efficiency. Naturally, the citizens will hardly be aware of this. The basis of your operation will be below us.¡± I paused to watch them gaze under their feet. ¡°Like the embrasures surrounding the gate, the barracks will extend throughout the plateau and will contain every facility a military force may ever need.¡±


    ¡°That sounds¡­ interesting,¡± Rodin grunted as he scratched his beard, auspiciously hiding an exuberant grin.


    ¡°Very.¡± I snorted. ¡°After that, we¡¯ll establish a market square and meet with the artisans and educators to give them blueprints and materials to develop and teach to the citizens. And after that.¡± I shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ll tend to whatever issues that may arise before we bid our temporary farewell.


    "As for rules or laws.¡± I raised two fingers. ¡°Do nothing to take away another''s freedom. The very idea of slavery is to be abhorred. I will not, under any circumstances, tolerate it.¡±


    ¡°It should bring you some comfort to know that everyone here feels the same, Sir.¡± He quickly added.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to call me ¡®Sir,¡¯ Silas.¡± I chimed back.


    ¡°Keeping your subordinates informed. It¡¯s the mark of a good leader.¡± Rodin grunted to himself, then rose to his feet to slam his fist against his chest. ¡°I am the Warrior, Captain Dukeen Rodin. Pleasured to be at your service. For the Gods know, I¡¯d hate to have you as a foe."


    ¡°Pleasured to have you.¡± I turned in my seat to salute him back in the modern way. Much to his and everyone else''s bemusement. ¡°For now, I¡¯m going to sleep.¡± I yawned over my shoulder. ¡°Feel free to take the night off or otherwise do as you please. Just try not to bother the locals too much.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the locals who are bothering us.¡± Toril snorted.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t we start now?¡± The Princess asked.


    ¡°You can work yourselves to exhaustion if you want.¡± I yawned again. ¡°But, the more you do, the longer you¡¯ll need to sleep after. It''s better to work all day tomorrow and sleep after a long day of honest work. Besides, it¡¯ll give us time to get to know the locals.¡±


    ¡°Says the guy ready to sleep outside.¡± The Princess huffed. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

 78 - Childish Commander

    Toril O''Connell.


    ***


    ¡°Er¡­Toril.¡±


    With a spark arcing through my spine and down my leg, my knee was made to smack against the table with just enough force to rip me from my blissful dreams. I was awake.


    Somewhat.


    "Hmm?¡± I groaned. Softly, at first. Then louder once I came to realize the bog sitting in my stomach. Threatening to rise up from the depths of my throat.


    ¡°Toril.¡± The voice called again. But it was a voice not belonging to Amun or anyone else of importance. So I forced down the bile rising from my belly and sought to return to those blissful dreams.


    ¡°Toril, wake up.¡±


    Groaning again, I shifted in place. Feeling the rough planks of a table beneath my hands and head while a rock slide seemed to fall through my skull. Pounding against my brain to induce a near-incapacitating throbbing in my head while I stared through the blinding light to see a bald, egg-shaped head staring at me, covered in loosely rugged sun-tanned skin. ¡°Who the hells are you?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s me.¡± He grunted. ¡°Rodin.¡±


    ¡®Rodin?¡¯ I laughed inside and gave him another lookover. He was large, but his shelf-like brow and relatively small head made him look¡­ barbaric. Like a cave dweller made civil. A vision that made the simple tunic and trousers he was wearing seem out of place. ¡®Oh.¡¯ I rolled my face back into my arms. ¡°You look different without your helmet.¡±


    ¡°I get that a lot.¡± He sighed. Followed by some shuffling, some muttering in the distance, and a bit more shuffling before the table I was laying on rattled ever so slightly. Giving me yet another chance to return to my blissful slumber.


    As the seconds passed, the pungent smell of alcohol and¡­ something hot, dragged my eyes up to a plate sitting before me. Topped with a few pieces of bread and a small glass filled with an egg, some type of alcohol, black flakes, and some type of thick red liquid.


    ¡°Is this supposed to be some type of elixir?¡± I groaned in disgust.


    ¡°In a way.¡± Rodin shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s a Prairie Oyster. Good for hangovers.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s in it?¡±


    ¡°Gin, egg, hot sauce, and pepper.¡±


    ¡°That¡­ sounds disgusting.¡± I groaned. But sat up and drank the thing in one go. Then grabbed a piece of bread from my table and let my head fall onto it.


    An intense rumbling in my belly ensued within moments. Filling my mind with worry and flashes of last night¡¯s events. We were treated with a feast upon our return to the tavern, given an abundance of ale and spirits we''d never seen before paired with unremarkable meats and vegetables and several hours'' worth of praise and cheer for things none of us took part in.


    Frustratingly so.


    I remember Rodin and his son, Joe drinking heavily. Challenging me and the others to contests. Then, bits and pieces of the night ended with Amun sitting next to me. Eating and laughing at Rodin losing his dinner after someone asked him¡­ something. Now, I could sense him settling into a seat in front of me with a hearty meal as he went to bed at sundown while I was left drifting in and out of consciousness.


    ¡°Eat.¡± He grunted after an indiscernible time.


    ¡°Few more minutes,¡± I mumbled.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for ten.¡± He sighed.


    With a loud and despairing groan, I sat up and looked around to see the same tavern from last night. Like dozens of others, Jaimess and Ed were slumped on either side of Rodin, leaning over his empty plate with an impatient aura.


    Ignoring him, I glanced down to check the time and immediately frowned. ¡°It¡¯s hardly six, Rodin! Why are you waking me up?¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t know you took sleep so seriously.¡± He harrumphed. ¡°But this is what time the day starts. I was hoping we could begin our training.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what your Doppelgangers are for.¡± I turned to the plate he¡¯d given me with a snort. ¡°I¡¯m here to teach you tactics and reform your troops. And that will wait until sunrise. In the meantime.¡± I paused to inhale a few bites of food. ¡°Tell me about your troops. How do you operate? What type of affinities are found within your ranks? And what type of equipment do you utilize?¡±


    ¡°We have forty-three guards when including myself; my son, the Lieutenant; and the Chief Scout, Liam Grace.¡± Rodin quickly explained. ¡°I''m an Amazonian Warrior. Though my blood is halved, I still have their strength. As does my son and many other warriors. We specialize in fighting on the front line, supported by spearmen and shield-bearers on the flanks and in defensive positions. Archers fortify the emplacements while scouts act as runners and gather intelligence. The troops are divided into five-man squads, consisting of two, two-man teams and one leader. Seven of those squads make up the guard force. With, me, Liam, and my son, Joe consisting of the staff.


    "We operate on two-day rotations. Two days at the barracks, pulling guard or going on patrol, and two days of rest at home. We¡¯re all donned in light armor for the sake of maneuverability. And only a few of us have affinities, all of the elemental variety. And I am not one of them.¡± He finished with a long sigh.


    ¡®Less than I thought. But admirable.¡¯ I mentally frowned in surprise, then paused to savor a bite of the strange type of pastry given to me before speaking again. ¡°Naturally, your operations will change now that you all have Doppelgangers. But, I''ll explain that to everyone at once. Where are they gathered? And, have you seen Amun?¡±


    ¡°I ordered every guard to report to the barracks this morning.¡± He stood with a grunt. ¡°And, yes. He¡¯s outside with Mayor Silas.¡±


    ¡®Jeez. Do you people sleep?¡¯ I snorted. Then wolfed down my breakfast in a matter of minutes to be led to a large mob huddled around Town Square.


    ¡°Good morning, Toril, Rodin,¡± Amun called the moment we broke through the crowd.


    ¡°Morning.¡± I shifted my focus to him and bowed at my neck, only to jump back in shock in the next instant. ¡°I didn¡¯t even know you were out.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Amun looked away from a paper he was holding to gesture at my clone and many others all huddled around with the other guards and civilians. ¡°I employed their help last night. You can have him back.¡±


    With that, I watched¡­ myself, stroll across the small clearing and turn after passing me to disappear into my shadow. Bringing about a mental cascade of expansive tunnels, wood braces, and a mountain of cut stone. ¡°What!¡± I spun to face the mountain. Or rather, the hexagonal frame towering above me.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Amun strode to my position with an intense light blazing in his curious eyes.


    ¡°I- I saw. The work.¡± I chuckled in despair.


    ¡°Fascinating!¡± Amun dreamily gasped. Seemed to look off into the distance and lose himself for several moments. Only to uncannily snap back to the present without notice. ¡°I assume you need copies?¡± He squatted to reach between his feet. ¡°How many?¡±


    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    ¡°Forty-two,¡± I said. Then did as the crowd did and watched Amun pull towering stacks of books from his shadow to hand them to my doppelganger before returning to his business without saying another word.


    ¡°You¡¯re a knight, are you not?¡± Rodin asked once we distanced ourselves from the crowd.


    ¡°I am.¡± I nodded. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°You and your master have a strange relationship.¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t like being referred to by any titles. Especially master.¡± I shrugged. ¡°In his words, ¡®I haven¡¯t done anything to warrant such respect.¡¯ Or something like that.¡± I chortled.


    ¡°Is claiming an entire town for himself not enough?¡± Rodin snorted dryly.


    ¡°Oh, he''s done more than just that. I can''t make much sense of it either. So, ask him yourself.¡± I shrugged, then stepped aside at the barracks¡¯ entrance to allow Rodin to step through first.


    ¡°STAND FOR THE CAPTAIN!


    Stepping inside, I saw a miniature Rodin at the brink of twenty years old, standing before forty or so guards neatly arranged in a rustic room that looked and smelled more like an outhouse.


    ¡°At ease.¡± Rodin waved to the troops on his approach to his son. ¡°What have you got?¡±


    ¡°No issues over the night, Sir.¡± Joe saluted again. ¡°Our¡­ clones offered to take up guard duties for us. Many of us went to celebrate, but all are present now.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Rodin turned with a grin and a gesture to me. ¡°This is Toril, Lord Amun¡¯s knight. As such, it goes without saying that he¡¯s to be treated as highly as Mayor Silas and his authority extends just as far, if not further in our context.¡±


    ¡°Yes Sir!¡± The seated troops resounded as one.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I lowered my head to the formation, effectively taking the floor from Rodin. ¡°As you noticed last night, your Doppelgangers will bring many changes to the way you operate as a military force. Firstly is that your numbers have now veritably doubled. And you needn¡¯t worry about your clones acting out of line, as all of the Lord¡¯s Doppelgangers act in accordance with first, Amun''s moral code. Yours will follow Mayor Silas¡¯ as well, then Captain Rodin¡¯s, before cascading down the chain of command to the owner¡¯s sense of judgment. That gives each of you a dedicated runner and partner. Someone who can take up duty in your stead while you eat, heal, sleep, or take leave.


    "But, they are more than just that,¡± I added with a dramatic pause. ¡°As the Lord said, your doppelganger is a mirror of you. A living mirror that will train and educate you, but one you can also converse with. It is a shoulder to lean on. But more importantly, it is a tool that will allow you to grow as an individual. By speaking with it, you will learn of yourself. You will confront your fears, face your flaws, and become a stronger person. But, those are things that are to be done on your own time. For now, I need you all to listen and come to understand the many changes being made to your day-to-day operations.


    ¡°From now on.¡± I paused to begin passing out books. ¡°Your Doppelgangers will be patrolling the town and manning the border every night. Seeing as how they¡¯re most powerful in the dark, it¡¯s the wisest choice. I¡¯ll leave the weekly schedule up to the Captain¡¯s decision, but I recommend having everyone work up to seven days a week and having three days off at home. As for the daily schedule, it will start with three hours of training. One for physical training, another for elemental practice, and a final hour for combat training. The remainder of the day will be spent in a classroom environment with me. And in your free time.¡± I held up a pair of books. ¡°You''re required to read and understand these practices. Any questions?


    ¡°Yes?¡± I nodded to a red-haired boy a few years older than myself. ¡°State your name and occupation.¡±


    The boy passionately stood to salute at once, stirring quite a strange feeling from within. ¡°Bein, Sir. Warrior. We were told we¡¯d be receiving new barracks, Sir. Is that true?¡±


    ¡°It is.¡± I nodded. ¡°It will be an underground complex accessed via tunnels that only the guards and the Mayor would be privy to. Each of you will have private quarters, along with the many auxiliary and service rooms needed to support a proper military force. Kitchens and dining halls, armories, recreation rooms, training rooms. And, most importantly, headquarters. Which, coincidentally, brings us to today¡¯s agenda.¡± I paused to allow my Doppelganger to bring out a larger stack of books and set them on the table. ¡°As I said, we¡¯re to spend each day this week in classes to study tactics, training doctrine, and the Lord¡¯s military theories. However, before we do that, we need to create a proper staff for the organization. Three people simply won¡¯t cut it.¡±


    ¡°What do you have in mind?¡± Rodin asked.


    ¡°In the latter book.¡± I raised the corresponding book before flipping to the passage in question. ¡°Chapter three, ¡®Staff Organization.¡¯ Lord Amun explains why no less than nine administrative organizations, or departments, are needed to support a military organization. As of now, we lack the manpower to fulfill these departments. But more on that later. The first department is for administration. Personnel management. They will manage the paperwork necessary to keep track of each soldier¡¯s status, records, awards, pay, promotions, leave, and everything else along those lines.¡±


    ¡°Mayor Silas is the one who¡¯s been assuming that task.¡± Rodin politely chimed in.


    To which I quickly shook my head. ¡°Unacceptable. Mayor Silas is a public servant and the commander-in-chief of this organization. As such, he has the final say in if you all go to war or not. But he is not responsible for how this organization is run. His priority is the citizenry. Ultimately.¡± I turned to him. ¡°This should be your job. The problem is that you have so many responsibilities, that you have no choice but to delegate them if you wish to properly command your troops.¡±


    ¡°That is true.¡± Rodin grimly nodded. ¡°Many of the administrative roles are split between myself, Joe, and Liam. Mayor Silas offered to take on some of the responsibilities to ease our minds a little. But, it is as you said. We lack in numbers.¡±


    ¡°That issue will be solved in due time,¡± I assured him. ¡°You all will one day become the most senior officers in this military force. As such, the current task is to think about which of these soldiers will take on these roles. Naturally, they and their subordinates will find themselves out of the line of combat. But, by the Lord¡¯s decree, they¡¯ll still be required to keep their skills maintained.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Rodin nodded in quick agreement.


    ¡°Simply put, the second department is for intelligence and security.¡±


    ¡°Liam¡¯s responsibility,¡± Rodin grunted, pointing to a lean and tall blonde-haired man sitting in the corner.


    ¡°Then it¡¯s where he¡¯ll stay if he so wishes.¡± I nodded. ¡°The third department is for operations. They¡¯re responsible for everything from training regimes to mission planning and force development.¡±


    ¡°Force development?¡± Joe asked with a raised hand.


    ¡°Adapting the force to fit the present situation,¡± I explained. ¡°If we face an enemy who uses a new type of weapon, or who uses a new tactic, how will we adapt our training, our weapons, or our equipment to respond? That is force development.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Joe slowly nodded. Then turned to his father. ¡°That¡¯s usually the Captain¡¯s job.¡±


    ¡°Something that I assume needs to change?¡± Rodin added just after.


    ¡°Exactly.¡± I grinned. ¡°Now, the fourth is for logistics and supply. The quartermaster, if you will. But one who also decides how troops and equipment are transported and maintained.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll find a suitable candidate to fill at once, Sir.¡± Joe saluted. Causing the strange feeling to rise again.


    ¡®That¡¯s not getting old.¡¯ I snorted inside before burying the sensation and turning to him with an affirmatory nod. ¡°Good. But ensure that you take your time, and remove biases from your mind.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡±


    ¡°Department five is for planning.¡± I continued. ¡°Effectively, Rodin¡¯s primary job. As such, we¡¯ll move on to department six, communication. Which is, by all rights, the most important thing when it comes to warfare.¡±


    ¡°Also my job, Sir.¡± Liam raised his hand.


    ¡°I understand you¡¯re also the Chief Scout, yes?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t do all three effectively,¡± I said as easygoing as I could. ¡°You¡¯ll have to pick one and only one. That said.¡± I meekly shrugged. ¡°If I understand correctly, your current position is much the same as the Chief of Communications.¡±


    ¡°Then, I¡¯ll go with that, Sir.¡± He saluted.


    ¡°Very well.¡± I turned back to the crowd. ¡°The seventh is for training. Responsible for how recruits are enlisted and trained. The second-most important department for the guards of Hill Base, in my opinion. The Lord hopes that after this town is uplifted, Hill Base will experience a growth in population or an influx of immigrants in search of a new life like you all once did. Many of them will grow to become guards, which means considerable thought needs to go into how new squads will be filled.


    ¡°As with the others.¡± I sighed. ¡°I¡¯m certain of the Mayor assuming responsibilities for these last two departments, but that will have to change as well. The first is for finance and resource management. And the last is for civil affairs.¡±


    ¡°Civil affairs?¡± Joe repeated.


    ¡°It¡¯s both how the civilians of Hill Base and civilians of other territories view our military. If they see us as a group of warmongering savages, they¡¯ll seek to disrupt our sense of peace and cast a bad light on us. Their job will be to oversee peacekeeping missions and train soldiers in how to treat non-combatants so that such a thing won''t happen."


    "I see." Joe nodded.


    ¡°Those are the nine departments.¡± I collapsed my book in closure. ¡°An assessment will be organized to choose the best candidate for each position. So, think long and hard about where you¡¯d best be suited to serve, as staff positions aren¡¯t for everyone.¡±


    After taking a few moments to finish his notes, Rodin stuffed his notepad into his pockets to cross his arms and stare off into the distance for a few seconds. ¡°It seems Lord Amun has thought of everything.¡± He eventually shook his head, letting out a few dry chuckles that echoed amongst his subordinates.


    ¡°It seems that way, yes." I chuckled back. Then waved the matter aside with an excited grin. "But, back to the point. Now that our announcements are out of the way, we can begin today¡¯s lecture. An introduction to Guerrilla Warfare.¡±

 79 - Unheroic Heroes

    Roheisa Deapou.


    ***


    ¡°You be careful on yer walk there Missy!¡±


    ¡®Missy?¡¯ I internally scowled. But buried it beneath the ash before turning to the man in question. A short, wide, and heavily toned dwarven man wearing a permanent scowl and a rope tied around his head. And all into his beard. ¡°I''m here to help, actually,¡± I said.


    ¡°Oho?¡± He tilted his head with a deep whiff, scratched his beard for a few long seconds, then finally exhaled a dramatic breath in the form of a groan that echoed understanding. ¡°I see.¡± He curiously drawled, then hurriedly extended his hand. ¡°Names Ken!¡±


    I stepped forward to take his calloused hand in mine. ¡°Roheisa.¡±


    ¡°Fine name!¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I stepped away with a bow.


    ¡°I¡¯m the manager and owner of Ken¡¯s Construction Yard, headquartered in Hill Base!¡± He proudly boomed, then walked away to push a black-haired freckled woman to us. ¡°This is our foreman, an'' my daughter, Rin. An'' my sons!¡± He threw his arm at five boys huddled around behind him. ¡°From oldest to youngest, there¡¯s Ben, Gen, Len, Ten, and Ven.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious,¡± I unconsciously muttered.


    ¡°Undoubtedly serious, Lassie!¡± Ken boomed in response.


    ¡®Lassie?¡¯


    "I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re awake so early.¡± Rin approached in a far too friendly manner. Though they all had the same bearded build, all of Ken¡¯s children were double his height; or rather, of normal height, as Rin looked me dead in the eyes as she came in for a non-consensual hug. ¡°Thank you all for helping us.¡± She whispered, scratching her scruff against my face. An annoyance, if I were being honest. And yet her words were like a mallet against the gong of my heart that sent waves of shameful pain reverberating through my body.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡± I shook my head.


    ¡°It¡¯s everything!¡± She pushed me away to arm''s length to expose her teary eyes. ¡°You have no idea what they¡¯ve done to us!¡± She fell back into my arms, sobbing. ¡°It''s been years. They¡¯ve demanded money from those who had it. They killed those who didn¡¯t. They defiled children, Roheisa! They sold our friends- our families, into slavery! They sold my friends like cattle! They- my sister.¡±


    ¡°I- I.¡± I stammered. Sobbed. Went to wipe my face and instead wrapped my arms around Rin as tightly as I could. ¡°I know saying this won¡¯t bring back your friends or your sister, but I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°We can only pray that those we lost still live and may return to us someday,¡± Ben, a blonde and slightly taller model of his father solemnly said. ¡°To honor them, we move forward and keep them in our hearts.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to remember them in mine as well,¡± I said into Rin¡¯s shoulder. ¡°What are their names?¡±


    ¡°Jin.¡± Rin sobbed. ¡°My older sister. The eldest. And the youngest, Sin. My friends. Diego. Marx. Sierra. Nova.¡±


    ¡°An'' dozens of others from other parts of the village,¡± Ken added. ¡°I, fer one, can rest easy knowin¡¯ the bastard¡¯s got what they deserved. So, thank you!¡±


    ¡°Amun accomplished his request on his own." I shook my head. "You should be thanking him.¡±


    ¡°But you could¡¯ve sat back and done nothing while he worked.¡± Rin chimed in with a poke to my chest. ¡°I¡¯ve seen you. Speaking to people, letting them open their hearts to you, just like are now. You aren¡¯t heroes who blindly save people. That much is true. But you¡¯re not as selfish as Lord Amun claimed.¡±


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid he certainly is.¡± I laughed. "But you can trust him all the same. He¡¯s not greedy for power or material things. From what I¡¯ve come to understand, his only desire is knowledge. Both gaining it and sharing it. Yet he doesn¡¯t obsess over it. It¡¯s¡­ like a source of joy for him, learning new things. Then he uses that knowledge to create joy for others. Like he''s doing now. It¡¯s admirable.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like you like him.¡± Rin giggled in my ear. Then giggled louder after feeling me tense up in her arms.


    ¡°Anyway!¡± I pulled away from here. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we get to work? This wall isn¡¯t going to build itself.¡±


    ¡°Now that¡¯s the right attitude!¡± Ken spurred to his feet to grab his tools. ¡°First, if ya didn¡¯t notice, I¡¯ll tell ya, I¡¯m a dwarf. My kind can bend metal like your kind can bend elements, and my kids can bend both.¡±


    ¡®Bend?¡¯ I raised my brow. ¡®Does he mean manipulate?¡¯


    ¡°Our first task is to widen the staircase an'' make the ramp.¡± Ken thrust a stack of papers at me. ¡°After that, we¡¯ll reshape an'' smooth out the walls. Then, we¡¯ll move above the work on the catwalks an'' the perimeter. Our medium is granite. Best you can get.¡± He finished with a thrust of his meaty hand towards the wall. ¡°Any experience with it?¡±


    ¡°Sounds simple enough,¡± I said, then shook my head. ¡°And, I¡¯ve had plenty. I was raised around a volcano.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like any other stone, really,¡± Ben commented from the back. ¡°Just a little harder.¡±


    ¡°Ugh.¡± Rin groaned. ¡°Ignore him.¡±


    ¡°Rin here will show you the ropes with Ven on the left side.¡± Ken turned to hand me a tool belt. ¡°Ben will take the boys off to the right side. An'' I¡¯ll take the stairs.¡± He waddled off with nothing more than a heavy groan and a wave. ¡°See ya at lunch!¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, Ven,¡± Rin called over her shoulder as she dragged me around the corner. Prompting a miniature Ken to run to my left side and grasp at my clothes.


    ¡°And how old are you?¡± I patted his little bowl cut of straight black hair.


    ¡°Seven.¡± He mumbled into my hip.


    ¡°He¡¯s not much of a talker.¡± Rin giggled. ¡°He¡¯s still an apprentice, but he¡¯s good at his work. Each of his brothers is a year apart, with Ben being eleven. And I¡¯m fifteen.¡±


    ¡°Just like us.¡± I smiled.


    ¡°I knew it!¡± She snickered. ¡°But we¡¯ll talk later. Let¡¯s get to work!¡±


    So saying, Rin and her little brother broke away to stand at the base of the cliff and dove into work without delay, compressing, smoothing, and even polishing the stone into 2x2 meter squares within a matter of seconds. They worked their way down half the cliff by the time I jumped from my stupor to join them.


    I was glad to know that the workforce consisted of many geomancers and, more so, that they were skilled. After learning how ambitious Amun¡¯s plans for this place were, I began to doubt we could accomplish them within ten days. Instead, I found myself almost straining to keep up with the quality and speed of Ven and Rin¡¯s work and to not marvel at their prowess, but it was staggeringly impressive. Even with the age disparity, they were in perfect synchronization. Even while they worked, they¡¯d lower the others¡¯ scaffold as they moved between panel-to-panel, shaving off seconds from the time spent on each section of wall. More than that, each section was verified first by the builder, then by the other before being judged again by the builder without anything more than a changed posture or wordless grunts being exchanged. Over and over again in a neverending cycle until the structure was complete.


    By lunch, I had managed to complete only a fraction of their work, but Ven and Rin showed no signs of complaining. Instead, they only gave me words of praise throughout the entirety of lunch and long after we finished to start on the catwalks. Well, Rin did. Ven only gave hugs and muttered into my hip.


    Much to my delight, I found myself able to keep up with Ven and Rin during the second phase of our project. While it took some work to draw the raw granite out into bricks or tiles, set it into place, flatten, then smooth the section into one solid piece, I quickly fell into a groove after I stopped trying to compare myself to Rin and focused on improving my skills. Sadly, that ended when we went to ¡®touch up¡¯ our work before the end of the day.


    Even with affinities for steel and magnetism, aligning the rails and carving the extensive decorations into the structure was something I wasn¡¯t comfortable with. I was a barbaric princess on the path to being a berserker. I specialized in breaking things, not building them. But for the sake of helping these people, I went against my nature and did the due diligence until the work was done.


    ¡°Please!¡± Rin beamed once we¡¯d gathered our things. ¡°Eat dinner with us! We¡¯d love for you to stay at our house.¡±


    ¡°I want to- I will.¡± I quickly shook my head. ¡°But, first. Jin, Sin, Diego, Marx, Sierra, Nova - there are more names I need to commit to memory. After that, I¡¯ll join you.¡±

 80 - A Day of Honest Work

    Edward Pascal


    ***


    Man... It was like Amun came prepared for everything he set his sights on.


    Coming from someone like the Necro King, it was expected. The Great King of the Dead had lived for centuries and was powerful enough to end civilizations. Much less create them. No matter how many times I witnessed it, seeing someone as young as Amun do the same perplexed me beyond belief. I believed that would remain true long after we became old or undead. Wrongly so.


    The source of his knowledge was always on my mind. But we were forbidden to inquire about it until further notice. So instead, I did like the others and found a reason, then focused on the immense wealth of knowledge he deposited on me. As his Chief Engineer, the books I was given revolved around schematics and blueprints of creations that I believed, had no way of existing in this world. Yet each theory, principle, and practice was explained in deep detail; written in ways that even I could understand. In the beginning, they were simple in nature. Things even we''ve seen over the years. Infrastructure. Optimized in ways that were unbelievable by Amun. Buildings, roads, bridges, and the like. After that, however, it quickly fell down the hole of the fantastical unknown. Beasts of metal capable of moving on the ground, in the water, and through the sky on their own power; not magic or enchantments. Machines that lived in the body, granting the owner abilities that were in ways like magic. It was so much I didn¡¯t even know where to begin.


    But, of course, Amun planned for that as well.


    ¡°Honestly.¡± Giorno¡¯s gasp ripped me from my thoughts. I followed his splayed hand to the model of the new Hill Base just as he gasped again. ¡°It¡¯s incredible.¡±


    ¡°That it is.¡± Mayor Silas gasped in much the same way.


    ¡°Keep in mind this is a model simulating the future, but it goes beyond,¡± Amun simplistically stated. ¡°I anticipate a population boom during our absence. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if our numbers double, or even triple while we¡¯re gone. And that''s without immigration. Even if it doesn¡¯t by then, however, it¡¯ll happen eventually. Once I return with the ability to make enchantments, though, the risk of overpopulation will be mitigated. That said.¡± He sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t want to take the whole mountain. Only a part of it. Thus.¡± He gestured again to the model.


    ¡°Only a part of it.¡± Mayor Silas buried his face in his hand. ¡°You make it sound so simple.¡±


    ¡°With Gravity Magic, it is.¡± Amun snorted.


    ¡°Gravity¡­¡± Mayor Silas tapped at his chin. ¡°That¡¯s how we were able to do this?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Amun nodded. ¡°Between that and my other affinities, we¡¯ll have all the space we need.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± The Mayor peered over his feet with a dry laugh. ¡°We already do.¡±


    With only a soft snort, Amun stepped over the ledge. Compelling the rest of us to follow him into a hexagonal hole that shifted into a cave upon the release of his spell. After catching my bearings, I and the others gazed around a space eight meters wide and twelve long. Save a 2.5-meter wide groove running from the door to the open wall, the space was empty. A blank slate for the seven of us to play with.


    ¡°If I may.¡± Mayor Silas interjected. ¡°I¡¯d like to introduce Arbold and Leo, Hill Base¡¯s most exceptional farmer and our most talented artist; likewise, may I present, Lord Amun, along with Lord Edward, Lord Jaimess, Lord Giorno, our new tailor, And Lady Letta, our new watchmaker.¡±


    ¡°My pleasure.¡± I meekly bowed after the others.


    ¡°Now that the introductions are underway, we¡¯ll agree upon the teams,¡± Amun said. ¡°Mayor Silas and I will go through each cell and the interior to install the enchantments. Ed, you, Arbor, and Jaimess will work on the main infrastructure. Leaving Letta and Giorno with Leo. We want this place to look luxurious and spacious enough to remove the want to go outside. That means a lot of light and even more plants.¡±


    ¡°Understood, my Lord.¡± Giorno regally bowed.


    ¡°Good.¡± Amun nodded. ¡°Now, assuming no one has any objections, I¡¯ll move on to explain the infrastructure so we¡¯re all on the same page. First, these cells can be used as either communal spaces or as lots for a single family. The standard is eight by twelve meters, with stone walls four meters thick. It seems obsessive, but my intention is that the occupants on either side can dig a meter and a half into the walls and extend as far as they need into the cells to build their rooms. Or, if the family is large enough, they can combine two cells via a door and make a single unit. Regardless, there¡¯ll be a meter of leeway for the necessary pipes or conduits I plan on running through the place. They''ll begin high above.¡± Amun pointed overhead. ¡°In the rainwater reservoirs. From there, the water will pass through filters and pour into one of three reservoirs. One for daily water, one for agriculture, and one for the industry. The water in the former will pass into each residence to fill their toilet and bathwater. Reducing the need for enchantments and allowing us to create fertilizer in the process.¡±


    ¡°Fertilizer!?¡± Arbor huffed.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Amun grinned. ¡°Toilet water will produce black water and dirty bath, sink, and laundry water is known as gray water. The gray water needs to be filtered before it can be fed to plants while the black water will fall into a series of tanks feeding into one another. Each tank will be filled with plants, aquatic life, and insects that feed on the waste, cleaning the water enough to be released back into nature without tainting the environment.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely incredible.¡± Arbor gasped in disbelief.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Amun nodded. ¡°But that¡¯s not all! The water reserved for agriculture will feed into the balconies lining each cell. There, the residents will have their own aquaponics system.¡±


    ¡°Aqua¡­ ponics?¡± Mayor Silas slowly repeated.


    ¡°Each cell will have its own fish tank,¡± Amun explained. ¡°Initially, those fish will need to be fed with the food we have on hand. But as they eat, they¡¯ll drop waste into the water. If the fish were simply being kept as pets, the water would simply be filtered. But the filthy water can be pumped into plant beds filled with porous rock. The plants would feed off the waste, in turn cleaning the water for the fish."


    ¡°And, given enough time, the fish can be sustained from the produce grown from their waste.¡± Arbor surmised. ¡°Giving us fresh fish and produce! It''s genius!¡±


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    ¡°But that also brings about the risk of wasted food,¡± Amun added with a pointed finger. ¡°As such, I¡¯m installing a chute in every room meant for organic waste, uneaten or rotten food, along with some other things, where it¡¯ll all be gathered into a chamber filled with worms.¡±


    ¡°Worms?¡± Mayor Silas writhed.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Amun snickered. ¡°The worms will break down food, paper, and anything else that came from the ground and turn it into fertilizer. That fertilizer, and another material, will be used to revitalize the soil in our indoor farms and around Hill Base. Any questions?¡±


    ¡°A cart full.¡± Arbor snorted. ¡°But none that¡¯ll keep me from working. I¡¯m ready to begin when you are, my Lord.¡±


    ¡°Alright then.¡± Amun clapped, then disappeared with the Mayor.


    In turn, me, Jaimess, and Arbor were left standing over Leo as he guided Giorno in carving bits of stone into his desired shapes while Letta hauled chunks of stone outside and brought plants and saplings inside with her chains. After, Amun used his void magic to carve the aforementioned canals into the walls while Mayor Silas shaped the stone to create the enchantments needed to light up the place and provide the obligatory amenities. The crafters and a few construction workers then came in with lists and requirements for the tenants and got to work manipulating stone, raising walls, installing doors, and building the furniture needed to transform the place from a mere cave to a luxurious home. And only then, could we finally begin our work.


    We started with the plant beds. After deciding to have the tanks be placed above the kitchen, we installed a standard pump enchantment, then asked Amun to create a pipe that ran through the roof to the upper-most bin on the left side of the balcony. After filling that with a few centimeters of porous rock, we installed a mesh screen before an overflow bucket valve, then repeated the process three more times until we reached the far side, where another pump was installed to bring the water back up through the roof and into the tank. With that, the only thing left to do now was to plant the crops, fill the central basin and populate it with fish. All jobs reserved for either the residents or other individuals, so we quickly moved on to the next cell.


    In a way, it was perfect. The fish chosen to reside in the tanks bred like rabbits, managed their own population, and favored warm water. And with the angle of the caves, the transparent tank would capture the sun''s heat during the day much like the structure itself did. All the occupants had to do was feed them and make sure no disease befell them and they had food for life.


    It took us the entire day to go through the fifty-one cells, three double cells, and two triples. Making for just over four rows of staggered hexagonal residential spaces. With our job done, the lot of us made our way deeper inside the mountain, where Amun and the Mayor were finishing up with the main farm complex.


    ¡°We¡¯re done.¡± I beamed after settling beside them.


    ¡°Excellent work.¡± Amun grinned over his shoulder. Then took a moment to recall his void tendrils before turning to face us. ¡°That was a lot faster than I expected.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Be proud of yourselves.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I bowed at the neck.


    ¡°Arbor, I¡¯ll remind you that these systems can grow crops a lot faster and with higher yields than even the most fertile soils. But.¡± Amun raised a finger. ¡°They¡¯re unable to support trees or sustain anything that grows in the ground. For that, we¡¯ll have to farm outside for the former and inside for the latter.¡±


    ¡°Hence the¡­ compost, was it?¡± Arbor presumed.


    ¡°Exactly.¡± Amun nodded.


    ¡°You know, we do have seasons in these parts?¡±


    ¡®Seasons?¡¯ My brows furrowed. But Amun recoiled in shock.


    ¡°Seriously?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Depending on the mana and the winds of the great seas.¡± Mayor Silas nonchalantly nodded. ¡°A winter came nearly a year ago. We almost starved. It¡¯ll be good to know we can grow food year-round. But we may need to have the ability to enclose the cells or install wood stoves or perhaps enchantments to continue growing food should another winter come again.¡±


    ¡°That can be easily done.¡± Amun dismissively shrugged. ¡°More importantly, the cells are done, the new gate is complete, and the plateau has been smoothed out. I¡¯ll be spending the night carving out a few more things and making a few designs for the artisans. Tomorrow, most of us will be doing the same things we did today while the others work on the gate and the outer yard. While that¡¯s going on, the citizens will be moving into their new residences. Allowing us to demolish the town and begin construction on the plateau the day after. And from there, it¡¯s nothing but classes and training.


    ¡°Any questions?¡± Amun clasped his hands together, then paused to pan his gaze across the still faces gathered around him. ¡°Alright then, have a good night. And, try not to drink too much.¡±


    ¡°I cannot begin to thank you enough.¡± Mayor Silas lowered himself into a bow before any of us could depart. ¡°This has been a dream come true, seeing Hill Base change before my eyes. I¡¯ve said this to Amun.¡± He turned to us. ¡°But I and the citizens consider each of you the Lords and Ladies of Hill Base. Nobles, if not Royalty, I daresay. If there¡¯s anything you want or need, all you need do is ask.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate the gesture.¡± Amun raised his palm. ¡°But, I¡¯m fine.¡±


    As the Mayor¡¯s gaze fell upon mine, I politely shook my head. As did the others. Causing his smile to widen more than I thought possible before he excused himself with another thanks. And with that, the rest of us turned to retreat up the winding stone stairs leading to the residences.


    From it being incomplete, the main complex was nothing more than a labyrinth of gently sloped halls, winding stairs that hugged towering walls, and what appeared to be hundreds of chambers and rooms of immense size, supported by a web of iron and wooden beams. As a result of our work, however, the residences were like stepping into a dreamland.


    Giorno and Letta¡¯s quarters sat on the top row. A locale that made for an arduous climb, but one that sent a relaxing wave of unignorable proportions over our bodies. Like many of the large families, Letta and Giorno shared a double cell; and like the others, opened up to a central cell shared between the two. The living room sat just before the door, nothing more than a rug-lined area furnished with a small table and a sofa that¡¯d been dug into the raised floor. Beyond that, before the gardens, was the kitchen. Consisting of a sink and prep area recessed into the floor like the couches, opposite the cooktop, oven, and fish tank floating above the central groove. Lastly, a pair of doors sitting to either side of the stove opened to a fridge and freezer that stretched beneath the floor, providing a substantial storage space that could be accessed via simple pull-out drawers.


    From there, their rooms started to differ. Excepting his bed and bathroom, Giorno¡¯s cell, on the left, was kept entirely open. Instead of dedicated rooms, he had¡­ areas. All of his machinery for making clothes sat just to the left, surrounded by huge bags stuffed with leather and textiles. His sleeping area sat across the central groove and extended more than halfway to the end of the cell, leaving a lounge area and an open space he claimed would be used for training closest to the balcony. Letta, on the other hand, had a much more segregated space. Within her cell, three rooms sat in the corners, leaving her with a nice lounge area in which to tend to her plants to the left of the door. In turn, her bedroom sat to the right of the door, across from a ¡®storage unit¡¯ and her workshop.


    After Letta went off to her room, Jaimess offered to cook us a meal. So I joined Giorno in his lounge and took a bottle of ale from my Doppelganger.


    ¡°Man.¡± I gasped in satisfaction.


    ¡°What?¡± Giorno asked through a dense cloud of smoke.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± I leaned back in my seat with a shrug. ¡°It just¡­ feels good. Working hard all day. Finishing it with a cold bottle of ale. I mean, just look.¡±


    Giorno raised an inquisitive brow as he took a long drag from his cigarette, then turn to see the town below.


    ¡°It¡¯s much different from what we saw just yesterday, right?¡± I asked. ¡°The people went from being fearful and resentful to being happy and hopeful. And, this place is beginning to look impenetrable.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if this is why Amun does it.¡± I sighed after another swing. ¡°But, passing along knowledge and creating a better life for people- uplifting them, has proven to be quite an exhilarating endeavor.¡±


    ¡°I doubt that¡¯s the reason.¡± Jaimess chuckled behind me. ¡°But I agree all the same. When I look at this place, I can¡¯t help but dream of the future. And oh, does it seem glorious.¡±

 81 - Reformed

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°To me,¡± I called with a shadow-tuned voice, then watched as dozens of Doppelgangers stepped from the darkness to gather around me and receive my orders before dispersing with no words or nods. Giving me a moment to step outside and sit in my chair, smoking and gazing up at the starless sky while one-hundred-and-one things ran through my mind.


    I¡¯d long since known that there was a lot I didn¡¯t know about the Doppelgangers. It was natural, I assumed, being the only spell in my arsenal that was created by another. That and the nature of my sorcery as a whole.


    I was aware that even before my power-up, the spell retained the characteristics and abilities I first had in mind. They were sentient. Enough to act as the original naturally would and ¡®mimic¡¯ their magic with a shadow spell lookalike. And being creatures of shadow, they could all skip through the shadows and had access to a Shadow Pocket. After giving them orders, the Doppelgangers seemed to become more¡­ tangible. As if the uncharged command matured their flesh into a rigid state. My Cursed orders seemed to not only do much the same to a higher degree but gave them the ability to bend and absorb light like Kit could, turning them into true clones. More so, there was the added benefit of the memory transfer. Wherein the clone¡¯s memories would be transferred to the original after reassimilation into the shadow.


    But, that was only the tip of the iceberg, as the memory transfer worked both ways. I could impart my vast knowledge on any Doppelganger in visual range, greatly facilitating the many tasks that had been completed, and the couple of objectives that have yet to be started.


    However, that wasn¡¯t to say I had no questions.


    How far could they venture from the owner? How fast could they travel across long distances? And, most thought-provokingly of all, should I leave my Doppelganger here in my absence? Those were but a few of the questions swarming through my mind as I sat there. Questions I purged from my mind once my break was over, and moved inside for a visual review of what¡¯d been accomplished thus far.


    The main entrance was more like a five meters wide, high-ceilinged cave that led to a cubic cavern with rounded corners and an arched ceiling, making an indoor castle town that was just as spacious as Corvus Academy¡¯s main floor. Only, abnormally smooth walls stood in place of the towering windows, encased in a web of steel to support the millions of tons of rock above. Even then, stone buttresses and thick support beams of treated wood were lain across the walls and weaved under the ceiling to act as both redundancies and housings for the many enchantments Silas had on hand. Naturally, many of those enchantments allowed us to increase the luminosity enough to mimic daylight and had been cycled to match nightfall. Wherein a subset of enchantments would illuminate the walking paths and other points of interest for everyone¡¯s convenience. Temperature control and airflow were handled in much the same way, giving Silas total control over the weak rains and light snows able to descend through the Inner Yard.


    With the main infrastructure in place, Leo and Giorno¡¯s clones were leading a party in making the space visually pleasing to the eye. Painting murals and carving sculptures in the walls themselves while others emerged from the shadows to plant vines or creeping plants into shelves and recessed places both high and low. Even my Doppelganger was at work in the far left corner, using void magic to carve a series of cascading pools that looped back around on either side to fall into the industrial park far below, where the artisans¡¯ Doppelgangers were busy bringing my designs to life while their originals slept soundly through the night.


    Essentially, my work in the main complex was finished. Which meant I could move on to phase two.


    The Military-Industrial Complex.


    With Hill Base being our officially unofficial first territory, it was natural to plan for the meager company of guards to evolve into a military force suitable enough for a guild, if not an empire. That started with doing as I did with the students at Corvus Academy and having Toril train and educate the guards to the level needed for them to do all the heavy lifting in my stead. In addition to the normal things, I planned for them to have their own forges and workshops to craft new weapons and equipment for the boots. And so too would they have hospitals, training academies, leadership schools, and more; all enclosed in their own domain.


    With Toril working on his own, my job was to carve out the superstructure. An area that would serve to be just as large as the main complex, if not larger. So, I took a few clones to the entrance, tuned the Chrono Dial down, and augmented an overlay of the final product with my Eternal Eye.


    I then stepped a bit down the stairs to carve a cross-shaped slit into the wall with some void magic, creating the first out of six embrasures. After gouging the stone for the sixth time, I remained in place to pull more void mana into my hands and mold the energy into twin tendrils that curled unnaturally from my hands, Void Whips. With time dilated, I took my time carving out a space wide enough for me to stand in, then used my Wrath Form to phase inside and continued voiding away the stone as precisely as possible while the clones of Toril, Ed, and a few others moved behind me to set the beams, supports, and doors into place wherever I deemed necessary.


    Because of the structure¡¯s purpose, there was no need for Giorno¡¯s Doppelganger or any of the civilians¡¯ clones to venture into the complex to make it as lush and welcoming as the main parts. If that were to be done, I felt it only right that the soldiers be the ones to do it. And due to my earlier work with Silas, I was able to install the obligatory enchantments without his help. Allowing us to finish the superstructure in only a day and a half of subjective time.


    With that work done, I spent another half day copying textbooks, diagrams, theories, blueprints, designs, and schematics for nearly everything contained in the Starfarer¡¯s Archives before I canceled the spell and sent the Doppelgangers on their way. Then, cast the Chrono Dial in the form of a trap spell and implanted it in the ground, allowing me to remove my focus from the magic and get some much-needed sleep.


    ---


    Upon waking, I canceled the spell and checked the time to find that it was just past 6:05. Hardly a minute had elapsed, yet I was fully rested and ready to start the day in earnest. Assuming I got a full seven hours of sleep, some quick maths told me that for every minute I spent in the trap spell, only 4.2 seconds passed from an outside reference frame.


    ¡®Interesting.¡¯ I mentally grinned, then turned to leave, emerging on the plateau a few moments later with a thick vine of grapes orbiting around me.


    In the pre-dawn, what appeared to be all the citizens were scattered across the town, tossing their belongings and prized possessions outdoors to have their doppelgangers haul them off to their new quarters and shops. Roheisa and the family of half-dwarves were off in the distance, preparing to toil away on the roads while the dwarf patriarch of the construction crew was flying through his work on the main gate. Lastly, by the barracks was Silas¡¯ clone, guiding the shuddering original out of a pillar of darkness, where he seemed to jump back a bit after facing me.


    ¡°Good morning, Amun.¡± He sheepishly bowed.


    ¡°Morning.¡± I nodded with a gesture to the door. ¡°I¡¯m ready when you are.¡±


    Silas'' clone stepped forward to pull the door open and step aside while he himself smiled. ¡°After you.¡±


    Ignoring the overbearing formalities, I stepped inside, only to be assaulted with an ear-piercing shout.


    ¡°ATTENTION!¡±


    While the command was certainly loud and annoying, the result forced a satisfactory smile to creep across my face. Unlike my first visit, the barracks were a lot cleaner and not nearly as pungent. More so, the troops within were all standing at the position of attention in neat columns and rows, staring straight ahead as Silas and I stepped across the room to meet Toril and Rodin.


    ¡°How¡¯s it faring?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Forty-two is a lot easier than five hundred.¡± Toril casually snorted. ¡°So, pretty good.¡±


    ¡°Five hundred?¡± Silas incredulously asked.


    ¡°Yeah. But first.¡± I nodded to him, then turned to the troops to say. ¡°At ease.¡±


    As one, they spread their feet shoulder length apart, clasped their hands behind their backs, and relaxed their posture before turning their undivided attention to me, pacing the room while I gathered my thoughts.


    ¡°For a period of four years.¡± I began. ¡°Toril was in charge of the training and education of a class of five hundred or so students in the same arts being taught to you all now.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± Silas chuckled in dismay. ¡°So, you mean to tell me, you¡¯ve done this before?¡±


    ¡°Minus the construction part.¡± I nodded. ¡°But yes, they are also my allies. I don¡¯t know where they are at the moment, but if you and the residents are okay with a bunch of new immigrants, I could send word to have them gather here over the next few years. I assume many of them will wish to join our military, and there are at least a few dozen artisans among them who are around the same caliber as Ed, Letta, and Giorno.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to ask.¡± Silas quickly said. ¡°You are the Lord of Hill Base, I am only its Mayor.¡±


    ¡°Even then, public approval is still needed. But we¡¯ll discuss that later.¡± I muttered to Silas, then turned to face the troops. ¡°Good morning.¡±


    They snapped to attention to resound. ¡°Good Morning, Lord!¡± as one.


    ¡°Since my arrival and over the coming days, I¡¯ve noticed the time and effort each of you has dedicated to protecting the residents of Hill Base. I can see it now, in your posture, your demeanor. It resounds in your voices and echoes in your strides. You are the pride of Hill Base; as such, you deserve barracks that you can be proud of. That barracks shall be unveiled today.¡± I grinned. Paused. Then turned halfway to the door. ¡°So, without further adieu, follow me.¡±


    After stepping outside, Rodin began forming the troops into groups while Toril approached me and Silas saying. ¡°You know, calling it a barracks is an understatement.¡±


    ¡°Understatements and overestimations are the best ways to surprise someone.¡± I shrugged. "Yet one must be careful. For expectations can rise to impossible standards as a result."


    ¡°True.¡± Toril nodded.


    Meanwhile, Silas flicked his eyes between us under furrowed brows. ¡°Umm.¡± He blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°If you tell a merchant you¡¯ll gift him a basket and show up at his door with a wagon, he¡¯ll be overjoyed, if not shocked,¡± Toril explained with a laugh.


    ¡°As would a Mayor if you tell him it¡¯ll take you until sundown to complete a request, then return within the hour,¡± Silas muttered with wide eyes. ¡°Unbelievable.¡± He shook his head, then turned to me and Toril. ¡°Did you learn this at that school of yours?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Toril pointed to me, shaking his head. ¡°I''ve been Amun''s knight since I was about five years old. All of my knowledge came from him.¡±


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°The students were from Corvus Academy,¡± I said before Silas could ask. ¡°Have you heard of it?¡±


    ¡°Of course, I¡¯ve heard of it!¡± Silas dejectedly laughed. ¡°The school of the Necro King. I presume he¡¯s of relation to you?¡±


    ¡°My great-grandfather.¡± I nodded. Then turned away from his blank stare as Rodin began approaching with the troops.


    ¡°Everything beyond this point is the Outer Ring. Our front yard.¡± I jerked my thumb behind me, then nodded to the open-faced barn of masonry and wood protruding from the cliff like an oversized porch. ¡°This is where every individual, party, and carriage entering or leaving Hill Base will stop to verify their destination or origin and have their belongings searched for any contraband or goods being smuggled in or out. Namely people. To facilitate large traffic, the space is wide enough for up to six carriages to be stopped at once. And extra eyes will be observing the situation from above, below, and from the sides.¡±


    I waited for the troops to follow my arm to the catwalks above and the embrasures to the side and below us before I guided them into a wooden door at the base of the stairs to enter a moderately sized antechamber shaped like a baseball diamond. ¡°Here is the main access for those on guard duty.¡± I entered from the corner and swept my arm from left to right while I continued. ¡°In that corner is a seamless door that leads straight to prison. Or, to where the prison will be.¡± I chuckled. ¡°Next to that, is the access to the lower levels. And to the right of that is where we¡¯re going next.¡±


    I paused to lead everyone through a thick hardwood door and into the embrasure room, consisting of a row of ascending alcoves for those manning the walls and morgue-like slats for them to lie and observe from below. ¡°For your convenience, each station has shelves for storage space, seats, and a small closet so you can simultaneously do your business and observe the situation. The cross-shaped embrasures are wide enough to plug with your fist and are tapered to a point thin enough to look or aim through without risking an arrow landing in your eye.¡±


    With that, I hugged the left side of the corridor and led the group past an adjacent hall. Then rounded a corner and came to a stop at a three-way junction to give everyone a few minutes to soak in the environment. The main superstructure consisted of towering, arched granite halls wide enough for three or four people to comfortably stand side-by-side. Illuminated by a string of enchantments that splayed a dusk-like light on the plants and creeping vines spreading through the caverns, painting the walls with abstract and eccentric shadows.


    ¡°The branches we passed just now lead to rooms and wings we¡¯ll discuss later. For now, we''ll continue down here.¡± I paused to start down the hall stretching east to the base of the mountain and stopped after only ten or so meters, where an elliptical junction sat around a spiral staircase leading above and below. ¡°This leads to the barracks below and the gate above,¡± I said, gesturing to the staircase. Then pointed to the doors placed on either side. ¡°To the left are a pair of lavatories and the guard offices are here, on the right. This is where you¡¯ll report for guard shifts and brief those coming to relieve you. Now, continuing on.¡± I waved the party further down the path.


    We continued down the hall at a dutiful pace, only to stop at the first of several elliptical, three-way junctions. There, I set my eyes on a pair of large double doors and waited for the crowd to follow suit. ¡°This is a mess hall and kitchen fit for a royal court.¡± I grinned. ¡°Your mess hall. So take good care of it. And across from it.¡± I turned about to step inside the doors opposing the mess hall. ¡°Is the parade field.¡±


    After stepping inside, I halted on an elevated platform of tiled stone and looked across two kilometers of rolling hills, lush valleys, and a winding river until the polished stone of the far wall met my gaze. Equidistant on either side were the radial walls, making for a sunken wilderness bathed in artificial light, a living coffin, with two-by-four kilometer dimensions. Like I planned to do with the Inner Yard, I enveloped the space in a temporal bubble and tuned up the Chrono Dial, accelerating the plant life to the point that trees stretched precariously close to the ceiling and the forest floor far below was enveloped in a thicket of brush, mist, and pollen.


    ¡°This is where you¡¯ll muster from now on,¡± I explained. ¡°Here, you¡¯ll conduct parade drills, rehearse your battle drills, and undergo your training. Everything in here is entirely natural, except a fenced-off region over there.¡± I pointed to the southeastern corner. ¡°There, you¡¯ll find the obstacle courses, rock climbing areas, magic ranges, and sparring arenas.¡±


    I gave them a few moments to admire the view before leading them back into the main hall, where I pointed to the east. ¡°Further down the hall and the adjacent corridors is where you¡¯ll find smaller training halls, classrooms, and parade fields for the companies, platoons, and squads until you get to the dead end. Where an elliptical room acts as a hub that connects all the staff departments with the armory and the offices for the Captain and his Lieutenant. The branching halls lead to strategic points around the perimeter and also have access to the other facilities, as well as the staircases leading above and below. Which is now, our destination.¡±


    So saying, I led Silas and the troops towards the wide staircase to descend through a story¡¯s worth of compacted earth. A width thick enough to place the second level several meters below the natural forest floor, allowing the volume of the lot to be nearly doubled. Because of that, I was able to carve not only one but three caverns below the first level; all separated by at least a story of compacted earth and all overengineered to last.


    After a few moments of silent stepping, I turned from the staircase to open a door and emerge in a space twice the size of and just as lush as the parade field; which in itself had been placed deep enough to be connected with the space we were in via a few simple shafts in the southern wall. This space, however, looked more like a Colosseum than a vast wilderness. Wherein the dense flora sat in an isolated depression at the center, surrounding a spa, gym, and several other recreational facilities. Which in itself was surrounded by vast tiered floors that stretched to the ceiling like the floors of a Ziggurat.


    ¡°What is this place?¡± Someone in the back muttered.


    ¡°This is your barracks.¡± I beamed. ¡°It may seem large. But over the coming years, your numbers will rise past the hundreds, into the thousands, and beyond. This is where many of those soldiers will reside. Housing will, of course, be determined by rank.¡± I pointed to the squat huts placed along the walls. ¡°The junior soldiers will live in communal barracks on the lower floors. Those of a higher rank will have either fewer roommates or their own quarters on the higher floors. Each unit is two stories, with the communal spaces on the first floor and the bedrooms in the basement. And each roof serves as the yard for the unit above. Giving space for gardens, hangout areas, or anything else.¡±


    ¡°This is absolutely incredible,¡± Rodin muttered.


    ¡°Incredible, but not all!¡± I beamed before any more comments could be made and led them all two stories deeper into the compound¡¯s depths.


    ¡°And what would this be?¡± Silas chuckled in despair after reaching our destination.


    It took a moment for me to answer. Not out of hesitation or embarrassment, but to admire and imagine what would become of the vast, empty space before us. A mirror of the realm above. A coliseum-esque cavern that was just as voluminous and divided from the southern field by a cave-lined wall of polished granite.


    ¡°This is the industrial compound for the military.¡± I finally explained. ¡°To prevent strain on the town¡¯s industry, it¡¯s necessary for our military to not only have our own industrial yard but to have a proper hospital as well. All that, and more, will be placed here. And beyond that wall.¡± I pointed south. ¡°Is where the new recruits will be trained. Lastly, I envision the level below to be the prison. However.¡± I sighed. ¡°I lack the means to imbue the place with an anti-magic effect. So, it¡¯s nothing more than a concept for now.¡±


    ¡°Anti-ore is hard to procure and even harder to stabilize into Negstone,¡± Silas explained. ¡°If done incorrectly, it will spread through the rock like fungal webs. Either way, it¡¯s ridiculously expensive.¡±


    ¡°All will come in due time,¡± I assured him, then turned to the troops. ¡°For now, make sure you do your daily training and take the day off. Get settled into your new barracks and report to the parade field tomorrow to continue your training.¡±


    Following their resounding affirmation, I gave Toril and Rodin a departing nod and drug Silas through the shadows, and stepped out of the shade of the old barracks.


    ¡°The day¡¯s still early.¡± Silas shuddered. ¡°What¡¯s next on the list?¡±


    I let out a small laugh through my nose and sent out a mental command to Silas¡¯ clone while I pulled my chair from my Pocket, settled myself, and lit a blunt. ¡°Let¡¯s talk.¡± I sighed out a cloud of smoke.


    ¡°Okay.¡± Silas sighed a bit dejectedly after seeing his clone dispense a chair and a few drinks before stepping away; yet, he sat by my side with no words and an expectant smile.


    ¡°To review.¡± I sighed after a few moments. ¡°The Inner Yard, Industrial Park, Residential Hive, and the Military Industrial Complex are all complete. And.¡± I gestured to the stream of clones going to and from the mountain. ¡°The citizens should have the Outer Yard evacuated. Meaning we can go on to phase three.¡±


    ¡°I must say, ¡®Inner Yard, Outer Yard, Residential Hive.¡¯ Such intriguing names for districts.¡± He chortled into his glass. ¡°So, tell me. What¡¯s phase three?¡±


    ¡°I concur,¡± I smirked. ¡°They¡¯re simple, yet meaningful and self-explanatory. Anyway.¡± I pointed to the plateau¡¯s center. ¡°I¡¯m thinking of building a clock tower in place of the town hall.


    ¡°A clock¡­ tower?¡± He paused to swirl his drink and ponder.


    ¡°A tower with a clock.¡± I snorted. ¡°Its bell will ring at dawn, noon, and evening. And maybe play a song or something at midnight.¡± I laughed. ¡°Either way, the roads, the tower, and a few farms and parks will be the only things we''ll build in the Outer Yard. For now, the focus is to man your staff and educate the masses. In a few months when everyone¡¯s settled, the focus should then shift to establishing a few trade routes. This means planning for which cities to visit should begin now.


    ¡°Also.¡± I stamped out my vice. ¡°This place needs a new name. Hill Base will forever remain in our history, but a capital city needs a more fitting name.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be much more comfortable if you choose,¡± Silas meekly said.


    ¡®I suppose that¡¯s fair.¡¯ I sighed, rising from my seat. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll decide before I leave. For now.¡± I paused to wait for the crowd to gather around us in segregated groups. ¡°Everyone here is either an artisan or an individual with a particular skill that I wish to put to use.¡± I have here.¡± I paused again to pull a piece of paper from my pocket. ¡°A list of occupations that need to be fulfilled over time. Most of them are already filled, but the same can¡¯t be said for the majority. For your convenience, the occupations have been divided into categories and will be posted in the new town hall. If you, or anyone else is interested in any one job, all you need to do is take a copy and proceed with the written instructions.


    ¡°As for why I brought you all here.¡± I paused to hand out a stack of books to the groups. ¡°There are a few specialized positions that need to be filled as soon as possible. And, based on what I¡¯ve learned from your Doppelgangers, I believe some of you are perfect fits for these roles.¡±


    ¡°You four are in charge of agriculture, with Dan in charge of farming, Violet in charge of ranching, and Jasper in charge of maintaining the fish population. You three will take orders from Savannah, who in turn will take orders from Mayor Silas. Ken.¡± I turned to both the dwarf and the calloused group of crafters behind him. ¡°These books will contain everything from architectural designs to construction techniques, tools, and equipment. Using them, you will become the chief civil engineer. You''ll be in charge of building Hill Base¡¯s infrastructure going forward.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do me best, Captain!¡± Ken threw out a quick salute, then quickly went to flipping through his books with comically wide eyes.


    ¡°Dardrus, Edma.¡± I turned to the two heavily bearded dwarves standing short and proud before the third pack. ¡°You two are the most versed artisans in Hill Base. As such, I¡¯m making Dardrus the Chief Engineer of Hill Base, while Edma will be the military¡¯s Chief Engineer.¡±


    While there was visible confusion on the latter¡¯s face, she quickly nodded in confirmation and went to perusing her bounty of knowledge just as the others did. Only hers and Dardrus¡¯ were based on physics, engineering, and weapons rather than crafts.


    The same process went on with the halfling, Yaramin Springwood. A large-eyed, somewhat pointy-eared man who stood half as tall as Ken- or a whole meter. Yet, he was outstanding with numbers and charmingly friendly. Traits that promoted him to the Minister of Commerce. The Chief of Communications went to Oliver Wheaton. A man who was given a veritable mountain of designs, principles, concepts, and theories that he needed to come to understand in record time. While she refused to be present, the doppelganger of the village¡¯s resident witch was present. Myrtle Crowe. A sage of a woman with silver hair, forest green eyes, and skin smooth enough to make her look no more than ten years older than me. To her, I granted dozens of textbooks that contained knowledge on everything from tinctures and balms to cybernetic implants. Theories that I was sure the old hag would devote years of her time to. Even if she didn''t trust me yet.


    ¡°Before you go, I want to tell you that it¡¯s imperative you all take your time in understanding this knowledge. In doing so, Hill Base will truly become the dreamland we all want it to be. To that end, I ask that each of you take on at least one apprentice. The future of any nation lies in its youth. They must be educated, not only in art, magic, and logic, but they must learn values and morals as well. Thus, it goes without saying that the second-to-last group is the most important. Arlo, you will be the headmaster of the primary school for adults. Any illiterate refugees, immigrants, or runaway slaves will be educated at your academy. As well as the children at your school, Lara. And, Mr. Kane.¡± I raised my head to look at the old man hidden in the back. ¡°You will similarly be the headmaster at the university.


    ¡°Finally, let it be known that your offices, facilities, and compounds have already been constructed. However, you will first need to learn the material given to you before they¡¯re fully opened,¡± I added with a raised finger. ¡°Once that has been accomplished and your apprentices have been chosen, speak with Mayor Silas to have him organize the grand opening of your establishment. So.¡± I clasped my hands in closing. ¡°With that, thank you for coming. And happy learning.¡±


    While the group excitedly dispersed, Silas meekly approached from behind with the last group in tow.


    ¡°Uhm, Amun? It seems you forgot a few people.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I turned to him, grinning. ¡°These people will be your ministers, diplomats, notaries, spymaster; and, most importantly, your alderman. Go ahead and spend the rest of the day organizing yourselves.¡±


    ¡°And what will you do?¡± He hesitantly asked.


    ¡°A little bit of demolition.¡±

 82 - Displacement

    Giorno Nojo.


    ***


    ¡°I wonder how long it¡¯s been.¡± I yawned. Then rolled out of bed to shit, shower, and shave before I emerged from my room with a fire burning in my eyes.


    Like every morning for the last several months, I started my day with a morning coffee and a cigarette while I fed my fish and pruned some veggies and tobacco leaves from my garden. After hanging the leaves to dry and serving up some breakfast, I sat in my lounge to let the food digest and admire the views of both the slowed world outside and the strange, luminescent flowers growing before my face.


    It was such an experience. Watching hours pass by while Amun dropped from my balcony at a snail¡¯s pace. Returning to my lounge to see people floating in mid-stride, only a few meters from where they stood before. Experiencing the months of daylight, and the unending darkness. It was unreal, having a lord who could bend time itself to his will. But it gave me an avenue to master the new material bestowed upon me.


    Faerie Flax. An otherwise ordinary plant, if not for the turquoise glow shining from its leaves. Given to humanity by the elves, it was a plant that was as in tune with mana as they were, using the energy for healing and sustenance rather than casting or practical means. That made harvesting it difficult, and each step of refining it proved to be a consecutively harder endeavor. But with time, I mastered the tasks placed on me and I was now eager to descend to the Inner Yard and bear the fruit of my labors like the hundreds of other residents. So, I wolfed down the last of my breakfast while my clone cleared the room of any leftover parcels and left my little hive without delay.


    To say the new Hill Base was vast would¡¯ve been an understatement; unless it was only the disparity in populous that made it seem so. Or, maybe it was my knowledge of what was to come later that gave me such an assumption.


    But, I digress.


    The entrance to my humble abode was a slim stone path that sat beside a moss lawn topped with a few chairs and a tea table. It was a lounge spot. A place for me and my compatriots to sit and talk and look down on the expansive compound below. Like many other places in the compound, the houses and walkways were tiered like a giant staircase for the sake of navigation and had been connected to the Inner Yard via a web of catwalks, bridges, and staircases that stretched across the space like vines in a jungle. At the northern and southern ends of each walkway were spacious common areas and indoor parks placed just above the different districts skirting the perimeter of the Inner Yard. A space so vast, lush, and exotic that it looked as if an ancient city had stood tall over eons while a mountain formed around it. Forcing the interior to rely on its own brilliance to illuminate its glory once it had been forever shut out from the light.


    Saplings had risen into ancient trees with moss-filled branches reaching across the ceiling like inverted roots. Ferns had spread and grown to coat the walls like floor trim and brush the feet of carvings like live grass. Vines crept and crawled from the floor to the ceiling, grasping onto statues and bridges to support their immense weight. Yet, in this dense, subterranean wilderness, civilization thrived.


    Throughout the halls, children were running, exploring, being chased by their panting parents smiling unashamedly as they passed vendor after vendor selling everything from food to trinkets.


    The majority of them were coming to or from the Research District, a labyrinth nearly thrice as big as the Yard. There, every man, woman, elder, and child had been placed into a similar time chamber to allow them to become as knowledgeable as possible in as little time imaginable.


    The Finance District sat just to the left of that. An immaculately quiet place of banks, appraisers, currency exchanges, and the like. And in the center, behind the Inner Yard, was the new Town Hall and Political Center. A realm fit for a king. Inside were courtyards, guest keeps, royal courts, and anything else one would expect; only, cast in the outrageous proportions our Lord seemed to favor.


    The Yard¡¯s waterfall lake- still unnamed, was placed adjacent to the Town Hall. Along with an expansive Nature Reserve and Wellness Center sitting just behind it. To its side was a wide path leading to the Industrial Park, and next to that were the Grounds of Faith. Where the citizens were free to pray to any deity they desired.


    Each district was fantastic on its own, yet, the Inner Yard had become the pride and joy of Hill Base the moment the residents moved inside. In a way, it was a replica of what¡¯d been outside. Only, it was a lot more organized, cleaner, more vibrant, and obviously, more spacious. A road of polished granite stones set wide enough for multiple carriages and even more people connected the main entrance to the town hall at the opposite end. Forming a trunk for several branches to reach off and connect to the various sub-districts within.


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    At the rear, before Town Hall, was the Inner Ring. A park. A place for picnics, evening strolls, or light jogs. A place that towered above the maze of taverns and pubs placed at the Yard¡¯s center. ¡®Downtown,¡¯ as our Lord called it. As one would expect, the Industrial Yard sat to the left of the Industrial Park''s entrance, just beyond the general shops. There, the streets were not only wider but also contained underground railways to facilitate moving goods to and from the vast shops lining the road.


    By far, it had proven to be the most developed region in the Yard. If not the entire complex. Over half the population was some kind of craftsman, and now, each of them had access to facilities they never expected or thought to have in their lives. Drafting rooms, meeting offices, and apprentice workshops, just to name a few. Naturally, my domain was across from that. Not as in a district that I owned, but the Primary Commercial District. The second most developed region in the Yard. Where not only the market was found, but where a pleasantly surprising plethora of artisanal shops were located. Including mine.


    JoJo¡¯s Boutique sat in the middle of a fork placed fifty meters down the avenue from the main road. Making for a building that appeared like a large slice of pie forked the road in two, complete with rooftop offices and workshops to make up the fruit and cream on top. Inside was a rather unremarkable space. The entryway offered spaces for coat racks and handbags to be hung. And that was overlooked by a desk facing the door at an off-angle. From then on, it was a store full of empty racks and shelves dedicated to men''s wear on the left, women''s wear on the right, and kid''s wear in the middle.


    And dwarves.


    Halflings too.


    Gnomes as well, I supposed.


    While my clone stocked the wares, I arranged the parcels and, for my efforts, was awarded a few minutes of downtime that lasted until the doorbell rang.


    ¡°Gio! Glad to see you¡¯re alive!¡±


    ¡°Eric!¡± I jumped from my desk to round the corner at once to grasp the man''s hand. ¡°I feel like I haven¡¯t seen you in ages!¡±


    The man in question, Eric, stroked his mustache with his free hand while shaking mine with the other. He was around my height and build, only twice my age, and coated in milk-white skin that somehow sprouted red-brown hair. He was a gentleman and a tailor, like me. Forever seen in a three-piece suit of varying tones and materials.


    ¡°Yes.¡± He said in a voice like a melodic brass instrument. ¡°The Lord¡¯s magic is quite peculiar, I must say. I¡¯d go to the university and spend one week there. That would turn to two, and on to a month and oftentimes more. In a panic, I¡¯d gather my things and rush home to my family, only to find that mere hours have gone by. Tell me.¡± He released my grip and glanced at the parcels as he stepped back. ¡°How long has it been for you?¡±


    ¡°Around six months.¡± I shrugged, almost disbelieving it myself. ¡°In that time.¡± I turned to reach over my desk. ¡°I¡¯ve mastered your material and weaved it into the CNT fabric our Lord created. Watch!¡± I turned about, bearing a knife in both hands that was quickly brought down across my chest.


    ¡°Gio!¡± Eric jumped forward, then stepped backward after seeing no result from my attempt at self-harm.


    ¡°Tch.¡± I tossed the blade behind my desk. Then pulled some magic from my core to repeat the same motion with my finger.


    With unbridled glee, I watched the stitches split apart to reveal my bare chest and quickly reach across my flesh to sew itself back together.


    ¡°Honestly!¡± Eric buried his face in his hand. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to risk cutting yourself to show me that!¡±


    ¡°Oh, I can¡¯t be cut.¡± I shrugged it off. ¡°Well.¡± I shrugged again. ¡°That¡¯s not exactly true. But it¡¯s true enough. Anyway.¡± I waved the matter aside. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    He took a second to look me over and gaze upon the wealth of products I labored over before grinning wide. ¡°Quite frankly, I¡¯m astounded. To master Faerie Flax and create this much inventory in six months is remarkable. You truly are a prodigy.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m only a bit talented.¡± I humbly shook my head. ¡°And talent only gets one so far. Only with hard work, can one reach their true potential.¡±


    ¡°The words of the Lord?¡± Eric raised a brow.


    ¡°The words of the Lord.¡± I nodded, then gestured to my clone approaching with a parcel. ¡°And, this is for you and your kids.¡±


    ¡°Clothes?¡± Eric asked, taking the package.


    ¡°Not just any clothes.¡± I grinned. ¡°Clothes made from carbon nanotube fabric. An advanced, non-magical material created by our Lord. It¡¯s exceedingly difficult to cut or penetrate and has other¡­ unique properties.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve read about it,¡± Eric affirmed with a long sigh before lowing the shirt I''d given him to reveal a warm smile. ¡°And you¡¯ve made sets for each of us,¡± Eric commented with a warm smile. ¡°How thoughtful.¡±


    ¡°Not just for you.¡± I gestured to the wall of parcels, grinning wider. ¡°I made sets for everyone in Hill Base. Free of charge.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t!¡± Eric gasped.


    ¡°That I did!¡± I wagged my finger. Then sighed dejectedly a moment later. ¡°I just need to deliver them. Or announce a flash sale.¡±


    ¡°You know.¡± Eric wagged his finger. ¡°I allowed my boy to take on the job of a courier. He has his own business now. Elric¡¯s Runners.¡±


    ¡°Could you arrange for him to deliver these parcels then?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯ll pay him handsomely. Let¡¯s say, one gold per package delivered?¡±


    ¡°Handsome indeed.¡± Eric scoffed incredulously. ¡°Elric is eight, Gio.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be a great opportunity for him to learn financial responsibility,¡± I assured him with a pat on the shoulder. ¡°Besides.¡± I waved my free hand. ¡°Mayor Silas himself said that he considers us and the Lord the Imperial Royals of Hill Base. If that¡¯s the case, he and the rest of the Council would be royalty. And if so, what does that make you all, the founders of this settlement?"


    ¡°We would be nobles then.¡± Eric surmised without much thought.


    ¡°Precisely.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± He sent his clone out with a wave. ¡°I will fetch him.¡±

 83 - Ring Ring

    Letta Sinclare.


    ***


    ¡°Aunt Letta! Auntie Letta!¡±


    Before I even turned, I saw a pale-skinned, red-haired boy nearly tripping over himself before he bumped to a halt against my thigh. And as if nothing had happened, he doubled over to try and catch his breath and rattle on and on about something at the same time.


    ¡°Honestly.¡± I pulled some water from the air and held up the bubble to his mouth. Then tried to hold back a giggle after seeing him cradle his hands around the orb as if he were holding it himself. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t let your excitement get the best of you, Elric. You¡¯ll get hurt.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be careful.¡± He gasped. ¡°But, I want to be strong! And, as fast as Sir Toril! Because I have a job now!¡±


    ¡°A job?¡± I dramatically recoiled. ¡°You¡¯re hardly eight! That¡¯s more than I had at your age, you know.¡±


    ¡°Mhmm!¡± Elric beamed, melting my heart. ¡°It¡¯s Elric¡¯s Runners. But, I¡¯m the only runner for now. I work for a few hours after school and on the weekends.¡±


    "Congratulations.¡± I knelt to pat him on the head. ¡°You should be proud of yourself, Elric. I¡¯m happy for you.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Auntie,¡± he said, pulling away from a hug.


    ¡°So.¡± I stood to rest my hands on my hips. ¡°What¡¯ve you got for me?¡±


    ¡°A parcel from Uncle Gio,¡± Elric said as he stepped aside to allow his Doppelganger to open a portal of darkness. From it, rose a paper-wrapped sack that grew to stand taller than the boy did.


    ¡°A set of self-mending clothes, for your convenience. Signed, Giorno.¡± Frowning in surprise, I turned away from the attached note and reached into my pocket to flick a silver coin to Elric. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    After fumbling with it in the air, he held it in both hands to stare and visibly fight back a frown for a second or two before he turned to leave without another word.


    ¡®Tch. Ungrateful brat.¡¯ I sneered. Then laughed as the tower''s bell rang, causing the boy to jump mid-stride and run off a bit faster. Right past Amun and Mayor Silas, emerging from the tower¡¯s shadow with Jaimess and almost a dozen residents trailing behind them.


    ¡°Nine days and this place has transformed before our very eyes.¡± Silas dreamily sighed as he looked the tower up and down. ¡°It¡¯s always been theorized that Time Magic would be¡­ groundbreaking, to say the least. But I never would¡¯ve imagined something like this was possible.¡±


    ¡°This is only the tip of the iceberg.¡± Amun casually laughed through his nose. Causing a wave of confusion to show on everyone¡¯s face until he continued, distracting them from their hypotheses. ¡°This is the last order of official business. This tower has four functions. The first is obvious.¡± He looked up at the clock face above.


    The structure started as an area marked off by string. A roundabout was then placed around that rather large footprint, and then a tower of stone bricks was erected to stand 56 meters over the Outer Yard. That slim black shard had then been accented with marble trimming and windows before I toiled to create and connect four illuminated, milk-white clock faces.


    After the installation of the bell, the result was a timekeeper made tall and wide enough to be seen from any residence or any spot in the Outer Yard. Moreso, everyone now had an alarm clock. But, more work still had to be done.


    While I got back to my main job, others toiled to fill in the interior and add a warehouse and stable onto the eastern end. With those tasks complete, we could finally move on to phase four.


    The Trade Bureau.


    An ostentatious set of double doors on the southern wall led through an antechamber that boasted a similarly adorned entryway. Beyond it was a spacious room that, like many other districts, smelled just like the forest floor. Only the trees and layers of duff were replaced with marble tiles and wooden beams stretching high overhead. Where hanging pots housed dozens of drooping stems and swaying leaves that loomed over what looked like a chapel. Three large reception desks had been placed before the eastern wall, in an angled bow shape. Creating a barrier to the many doors and chambers that lie beyond and adjacent to the structure. Before it sat a line of pews, shouldered on each side by a trapezoidal display board.


    ¡°This desk is for the Employment Center, and it corresponds with this board.¡± Amun paused to point to the left desk and corresponding pedestal, where the hundreds of citizens had been coming to peruse and chose which occupation they wish to learn and report to the desk to receive the corresponding books and enroll in school.


    ¡°The desk on the right will be the Request Board. For any citizen who happens to be an Initiate, but isn¡¯t part of the military. This one.¡± Amun flicked his finger to the center desk. ¡°Is why we¡¯re here.


    ¡°What will colloquially be known as the Trading Bureau will elevate Hill Base¡¯s wealth by a few orders of magnitude. Me and my vassals will continue to pour wealth into our economy, and we can mint more, but we can¡¯t become a true capital city without having imported and exported goods. As such, the Bureau will have three functions.


    ¡°First.¡± Amun jerked his thumb at the window, towards the stable and warehouse. ¡°The Bureau will be the first and last stop for caravans coming in or leaving Hill Base. Every caravan that leaves will have to register its wares, personnel, and destinations with the Bureau for the sake of accountability and logistics. Once that¡¯s done, their carriages and horses can be prepared and stored overnight to facilitate their later departure. Incoming caravans will similarly report here upon arrival. Once they¡¯ve been logged, their wares can be offloaded and distributed to the place in question by the Bureau¡¯s staff, by a local business, or by themselves if they¡¯re selling to a market or individual. In doing so, we hope to reduce the presence of carriages in the Inner and Outer Yards. Now.¡± Amun turned, waving over his shoulder. ¡°Follow me.¡±


    So saying, we followed him up two flights of stairs, into a drafting room that was nearly as vast as the main floor below, yet it was as cramped as could be. Most of the floor was occupied by a ringed table that¡¯d been canted inward to slant towards the rotating depression at the center. Wherein a map of everything west of the mountain range sat for our viewing pleasure.


    But it was more than just a scale model copied from the one we were given. It was a three-dimensional replica of the Western continent. The entire thing was marked with grid squares and contour lines. Bits of stone and raised dirt mimicked the plateau that housed Hill Base, the towering mountain behind it, and the rolling plains spreading beyond it. Filled in with clumps of moss to resemble the sea of trees, interrupted only by the dirt paths or the lakes and rivers that¡¯d been carved into the bed and filled in with dyed glue. Borders, towns, settlements, and trails were all modeled in miniature cityscapes of stone and had been annotated with tiny flags and slips of paper. It was the most creative thing many of us had ever seen. Yet, as always, Amun seemed uncaring of the shock and praise we displayed after seeing the results of his efforts. Instead, he used his magic to stand on the ceiling while the rest of us settled around the table.


    ¡°Second, is the Bureau¡¯s primary mission.¡± Amun pointed up; or down, at the map. ¡°To monitor supply and demand in every region, including our own, and decide which locations are suitable for established trade routes. The third mission is to then build a road leading into the wilds and eventually connect them to the cities we trade with.¡±


    ¡°Which brings us to why we¡¯re here,¡± said a small and charming man with thin-framed glasses and thick sideburns. ¡°As the representatives appointed by Lord Amun, we form the city council. And, as the Lord stated, we must coordinate if we¡¯re to understand what we have and what we need. To that end, I will start by introducing myself.¡± He splayed his little hands across the table and gave a room-warming smile. ¡°I am Yaramin Springwood, Hill Base¡¯s humble Minister of Commerce. If I may ask that we go around the table and summarize what¡¯s needed and what our respective departments are flourishing in, I¡¯ll begin.


    ¡°Here.¡± He raised a tiny finger. ¡°Any citizen of age can start and own a business or sell any good, so long as they operate within the confines of the law. That extends to children in pre-approved occupations or apprenticeships as well. With their parent¡¯s approval of course. Also, let it be known that there is no tithe or tribute for the citizenry to pay, and the only tax will be in the form of a service fee, here in the Bureau. Lastly, we will take from our deposits for a bit longer to mint out a deeper treasury for ourselves until we fully commit to trade.¡±


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    With a smile and a nod, Yaramin gave the floor away. Allowing it to be taken by a rather burlesque woman with leathery skin and sandy-brown hair. ¡°Savannah Otto, Chief of Agriculture,¡± she said in a motherly tone. ¡°We¡¯ve been given all the seeds we could need and our composting farms are almost to the point where we can begin fertilizing the Outer Yard and outlying areas. As for what we need, that¡¯s simple. Livestock. And some rain.¡± She chuckled.


    ¡®Rain?¡¯ I perked up. ¡®I¡¯ve always wanted to see rain.¡¯


    ¡°Ken, Chief of Engineering,¡± he methodically said. ¡°We''ve no lack of materials. Tools have been made for everyone, so everyone¡¯s been focused on creating those designs of yours, Lord. I¡¯ve been havin¡¯ to make sure they keep up on production so they have something to sell. An'' I don¡¯t blame em! It¡¯s-¡±


    ¡°We feel the same way, Ken.¡± Yaramin kindly wound the dwarf¡¯s excitement down and gestured to a slim and tall man with a fat bald spot on the top of his head. Like an egg cradled in a nest of straw-yellow hair. ¡°Oliver Wheaton, Chief of Communications.¡± He bowed. ¡°As of now, we have a startup courier service and newspaper company. Given a few years, I wish to expand the former into a central post office and mold the latter into a publishing and copying company. Once Ken¡¯s engineers have created a working model of your¡­ transceiver, we can install a proper office for that upstairs. But until then, we¡¯re stuck with runners, horseback, or pigeon mail. All we need then is a surplus of paper, but I feel it would be wise if we make our own. So.¡± He shrugged with his hands. ¡°Some trees?¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± Amun nodded. Then, for some reason, looked in my direction. ¡°Next?¡±


    ¡°We have all the hard materials we need,¡± I explained after a long moment. ¡°But soft materials. Leathers, feathers, wool, and other types of materials are lacking. So, it¡¯s as Savannah said. Livestock.¡±


    ¡°I request for much of the same.¡± A somewhat worn man stood from the opposite end of the table. ¡°Hello, everyone.¡± He meekly waved. ¡°You all know me as Nicholas Cooke. The chef of Crooked Tavern. I¡¯m now the Commissioner of Health. As the others said, we need animal products. Most importantly fat for soap, and meat so we can keep balanced diets.¡±


    ¡°Your knowledge has proven to be interesting. I need herbs and materials for my ointments and brews. How will you procure them?¡± Demanded the old witch, Myrtle Crowe. In spite of her age, she was beautiful. Stunning in the same sense that a natural vista would stop one in their tracks. Like a tree that had existed for eons, yet retained the verdure it had in its first century of existence.


    But that was no excuse for rudeness.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you in a minute,¡± Amun smirked, then turned to the barbaric man sitting next to her.


    ¡°We have everything we need except manpower,¡± the man, Rodin, said.


    Following the Captain, a lean and withered old man with a drooping gray beard wiggled out of his seat to address the council. ¡°As Oliver said.¡± He wheezed. We need an abundance of paper and more, books to fill our vast libraries. However.¡± He beamed his uncomfortably brilliant teeth. ¡°I would like to announce that each of our citizens is literate and each child is enrolled in school. Our university is in full attendance, and only twenty percent of occupations are left to be fulfilled. Though.¡± He panted. ¡°As others have stated, many of those businesses could do with more personnel.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± Amun nodded after leaving the floor open for a full minute. ¡°I recommend we start by finding three locations deep in the woods. The first will be for a hunting cabin, located furthest. The second, on the other hand, will be a foraging hut for the Mistress.¡± He snickered. ¡°It would be most efficient for the cabin to be occupied full-time. Either with hunters living there or coming back and forth in shifts. If we¡¯re lucky, these will give us the means to find incubating eggs or a pregnant goat or something in the wild, otherwise, we¡¯ll have to buy whatever livestock we can. As for its location, it will be a fair ways away from the gate, yet closer than the hunting cabin. And it will double as an apiary. The priority will be to regrow whatever we manage to find and manage bees for a source of wax and honey. And a courier will bring back what they find; or, they can haul it in between shifts. I''ll leave that up to the individual to decide.


    ¡°The final locale will be a bit closer to Hill Base and will have a larger footprint. Allowing for more functionality.¡± Amun grinned. ¡°On it will be two lumber mills. One pair to make construction lumber and other materials, and the other to be chained to a paper factory. To prevent deforestation, each mill will double as tree nurseries. Any objections?¡±


    Rodin raised his hand at once. ¡°These outposts are far from the walls. How do you want them secured?¡±


    ¡°Do rotational shifts, put a guard on permanent duty, or build a lookout post nearby.¡± Amun shrugged. ¡°Whatever you come up with, it¡¯s your choice."


    ¡°Understood.¡±


    ¡°So that makes domesticated animals, paper, books, and people,¡± Silas concluded. Then stood with the boy appointed as his junior to point to a small hamlet a stretch to the south. ¡°Animals can be purchased in Colis, around five thousand kilometers away. They¡¯re a startup like us, but they¡¯re backed by a noble. So they¡¯re likely to have an abundance of livestock and books for purchase. The capital would be the safest bet for livestock.¡± He moved his pointer to a vast bordered region and sighed. ¡°But, we wish to stay away from that place.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s no problem.¡± Amun shook his head. ¡°The problem is the distance. You¡¯ve all been trained to fly and have dimensional storage pockets, but you can¡¯t fly back with livestock. And I highly advise against storing them in your Shadow Pockets.¡±


    ¡°That means it¡¯s around two months of travel one way,¡± Silas said. ¡°And that¡¯s without livestock.¡±


    ¡°If we can finish quick enough we could have those ¡®vehicles¡¯ you designed. But.¡± Ken gently slapped the table and let out a deep sigh. ¡°We would still need roads.¡±


    ¡°The only other way would be to travel by water.¡± Amun shrugged. ¡°But carving a canal across the continent isn¡¯t worth the investment just yet. So we¡¯ll make do.¡±


    ¡®Just yet.'' I shook my head in disbelief with the rest of the council.


    ¡°Like the capital,¡± Silas said, pointing to a vast cityscape that encircled a bulbous lake at the end of an inlet. ¡°We should also stay away from the counties bordering it to the east and west. In between the river and the mountain is Natural Valley. The most fertile land on the continent. And all of it belongs to the Empress. Making it off-limits, even to those in high society, much less us. To the west is the Epfair Marsh, the training ground for the Epethian Guard.


    ¡°So too should we avoid the northern region, Sodiak Fjord.¡± He turned the table to point at the region we passed through upon arrival. ¡°The entire region is too far from the capital for any meaningful trade or communication.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve seen it.¡± Amun nodded. ¡°They¡¯re in poverty. Struggling. They may prove to be willing to immigrate here, but they looked like they hated us when we were passing through.¡±


    ¡°Only because you look rich.¡± Yaramin huffed. ¡°I assume they¡¯ll be willing to come if they¡¯re guaranteed riches as well. If the rumors are true, those in the Fjord are stuck between a rock and a hard place. Growing food is difficult there and the sea is rough, in turn, neither they nor anyone else is willing to make such a long journey across the continent to make trade. It¡¯s normal to be resentful in such a predicament.


    ¡°If we can get immigrants in Sodiak, we¡¯re left with choosing a place to sell our wares. And there¡¯s no better place than Canovista Landing.¡± He slapped his pointer to a vibrant city placed along the western shores, sitting between the two aforementioned regions. ¡°Since the inlet leading into the capital is so treacherous for sailors, Luton was established as the center of commerce for the Empire and has remained so for centuries. Everything from ore and livestock to pristine enchantments and masterful equipment comes through its ports before going anywhere else in the Empire. On top of that, it¡¯s a city with renowned shipyards that has no share of nobility. As they all reside here.¡± He moved southeast across some rolling plains to point at a magnificent castle town. ¡°In Mirfield. Many of us come from Luton as well,¡± Yaramin added. ¡°We know the area quite well. But the journey is long and we¡¯d have to pass through the checkpoint in Droria.¡±


    ¡°Is that bad?¡± I thought aloud.


    ¡°We will have to pay a toll and they will attach an escort to us.¡± Yaramin shrugged. ¡°So long as we stay out of trouble, it should be of no harm.¡±


    Amun mumbled something to himself, catching the eyes of a few before he dramatically clasped his hands together. ¡°Alright.¡± He sighed. ¡°Until we have access to better facilities, technology, and enchantments, we have to accept our losses and plan accordingly. As such, we¡¯ll plan a voyage to Colis, no later than a month from now. We¡¯ll aim to import as much livestock as we can but stay away from recruiting anybody. If they¡¯re backed by a noble, we want to assess the situation and remain cordial with them. We don¡¯t want to recruit anyone if it makes us get on their bad side. We don¡¯t want any enemies that close to the empire. Not yet.¡±


    ¡°Yet?¡± Yaramin jerked his head up.


    ¡°I surmise they¡¯ll be after artisanal goods.¡± Silas continued uninterrupted. ¡°I¡¯m sure they have all the resources they need to grow, given their circumstance. But it¡¯s because of that that they have few of the things they want.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled,¡± Amun said. ¡°Once the first caravan returns, I recommend holding another council meeting to discuss what went right or what went wrong, then decide if a road should be laid between our settlement and theirs.¡±


    ¡°It shall be done.¡±


    ¡°After that.¡± Amun pointed to the Fjord. ¡°I recommend sending a caravan to either Wolfwater or Wavemeet. The intent will be not to sell, but to give charity and invite people to settle here. Recruit as many people as possible along the way, but only those you deem trusting. Or at the very least, sane.¡± He added with a raised finger. ¡° If we have to help them, rescue them, or free them from slavery, we¡¯ll do it. They¡¯re too far for the Empire to care. And we have the facilities to protect them if need be. After the Fjord has been reviewed, our focus can turn to Luton. Then, we¡¯ll send our largest caravan yet and sell our finest exports for profits and, hopefully, lure a few merchants into traveling back with us to Hill Base. And when they arrive.¡± Amun grinned. ¡°They¡¯ll be treated with the greatest hospitality we can give them.¡±


    ¡®Then it¡¯s a plan. Any objections?¡± Silas paused to read the room before turning back to Amun with a nod.


    ¡°Any other questions, comments, or concerns?¡± Amun asked. ¡°Speak now, or forever hold your peace.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, erm.¡± Ken meekly raised his hand. Then proceeded to speak slowly in the ¡®proper¡¯ dialect he was taught. ¡°I¡¯ve caught word of there being a feast to celebrate the work finishin.¡¯ That true?¡±


    ¡°It is.¡± Amun beamed. ¡°The chefs are cooking up a mountain of food in a time chamber. So, tell your family and tell your friends to come to the royal court.


    ¡°Cause we¡¯re having a banquet!¡±

 84 - First Banquet

    Mayor Johann Silas.


    ***


    ¡°I¡¯m serious. You¡¯ll be the Emperor of this place one day. And I¡¯ll be a wandering emperor. Exploring the realms while you all go about your lives. That makes you all royalty. And they''ll be nobles.¡±


    I followed Amun¡¯s gaze past the council, seated at an elliptical table at the head of what looked and felt like a king¡¯s courtyard, then to the residents in question. Like us, they were seated on carved seats and curved tables placed around the perimeter. Casually mingling with each other in the midst of their meals like we were.


    ¡°Which is why we¡¯ve been educated so strenuously.¡± I surmised. ¡°But, I¡¯ve never seen nobles work so hard.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what makes you all different.¡± Amun quipped. Then raised his drink along with a cheer coming from an ambiguous direction.


    After placing his mug on the table, Rodin turned a curious eye to Amun just as he did the same. ¡°Why even drink if you can¡¯t get drunk?¡± He burped.


    ¡°I can appreciate the taste.¡± Amun shrugged in an almost strange way. Not in his usual amiableness, but in a way that made it seem like he was overjoyed. Not excited, as he¡¯d been during Hill Base¡¯s reconstruction. He was giddy. Seemingly from the lack of work to be done.


    ¡®A strange one indeed.¡¯ I turned to the young half-elf. As unbelievable as it was, he was only fifteen. Yet, his knowledge base was incomprehensibly vast and he had more followers under his wing than even I did. ¡°Speaking of which,¡± I said. ¡°The residents have agreed to have your companions immigrate here. Though.¡± I chortled softly. ¡°Having five hundred nobles may prove to be a problem.¡±


    ¡°I can assure you that most of them will wish to join the military or the guild. Either way, we have more than enough real estate to house them.¡±


    ¡®And that¡¯s the strangest thing about you.¡¯ I thought after taking a mental note of his words. Speaking to him was like speaking to an elder. Or a sage. Or an accomplished witch or wizard with many years- nay, decades under their belt. At times, I felt as if an old man had been stuck inside a child¡¯s body. And his friends or followers seemed to be completely oblivious to it.


    ¡°If I may ask, where do you plan to go from here, Lord? If I understand correctly, just under two weeks remain until your deadline.¡±


    Like me, Amun held his gaze on the boy who spoke for a long moment. But for blazingly different reasons, I was sure. By both vote and Amun¡¯s suggestion, Caleb Goss had been appointed as my alderman at only twelve years old. Possibly because he shared many of the same qualities Amun had. He was dauntless. Shown to put his foot forward when necessary and speak when others would not. More so, he¡¯d proven himself to be too smart for his own good years prior to Amun¡¯s arrival. Now, his education was nearly complete, making him undoubtedly smarter than I was.


    For Amun, I¡¯m sure it was to study his visage and commit it to memory before he replied with a meek shrug. ¡°We¡¯ll make a detour to see the capital before climbing the mountain and crossing the desert. As for the deadline, we¡¯ll either take our time along the way or stop somewhere to relax for a few days. Other than that.¡± He shrugged again. ¡°I have no specific plans.


    ¡°After we return though.¡± He grinned. ¡°We¡¯ll essentially repeat what was done this week, only, it¡¯ll be to form and train the guild before we travel overseas for a test deployment in Phaegrath. But enough of that.¡± Amun waved it all aside. ¡°I¡¯m interested in your story, Silas.¡±


    I slowly chewed through my steak as I repeated the words in my head. ¡®My story, huh?'' Then, I realized. ''This is my chance.''


    ¡°Well.¡± I paused to wash my food down with some wine. ¡°I was birthed and raised in Mirfield. I was born into a minor branch of a noble family. But never agreed with their customs. Or Epethian customs for that matter. So I was ostracized. My parents, aunts, and uncles manipulated my siblings into despising me and I was eventually disgraced. So I gathered what wealth and allies I had left and traveled here. Though.¡± I sighed. ¡°It was much harder than expected. The journey itself took half a year, and some didn¡¯t make it. We made a footprint for ourselves and all was well for a few months. Then the bandits came. And they¡¯d return every few months to raid us for what we labored to make or take women and children if we refused to make anything. Every time it was a fight. And every time more people died. There¡¯s now half of what we started with. I hope they can rest easy knowing their sacrifices weren¡¯t in vain.¡±


    ¡°I could bring them back, you know.¡± Amun casually commented. "Or at least let you speak to them again.¡±


    While I and the rest of the Council shifted uncomfortably or shared mortified stares between each other, Amun and his vassals continued eating and chatting among themselves in their usual amiable, self-centered ways. Paying attention to and even laughing at the things that interested or amused them. Only Roheisa and her knight seemed embarrassed at Amun¡¯s behavior. Giving no sense of solace to me, however, as a painfully obvious fact came to slap me in the face at that moment.


    ¡°My Gods.¡± I gasped. ¡°We¡¯ll be living among undead one day, won¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°I mean, you¡¯re already being protected by them.¡± Toril laughed.


    ¡°And undead isn¡¯t inherently evil,¡± Amun said. ¡°I mean. Most of them have an inborn hatred of all living things, but that doesn¡¯t make them evil. No less than it makes a predator evil for following its instincts to hunt and kill prey, or any other creature following its nature. Besides.¡± He shrugged. ¡°If I return their souls to them, they¡¯ll retain the personalities you once knew.¡±


    ¡°And they¡¯ll live forever?¡± Caleb presumed.


    ¡°Unless something kills them.¡± Amun nodded.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Rodin tilted his head. ¡°I heard the Cole family¡¯s undead are different. Truly immortal undead. Made entirely of darkness.¡±


    ¡°Depends on the circumstance of their death.¡± Amun shrugged. ¡°A part of our sorcery is known as Shadow Necromancy. That¡¯s what you¡¯re referring to. It gives a soul the ability to rise from the Underworld, using the being''s shadow as a medium to exist in the physical plane. And to complete the exchange, the physical body is sent to the Underworld. Those types of undead can only be killed in two ways. Death of the user, and the void.¡±


    ¡°That latter of which you alone are in possession of?¡± Rodin asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And what of the other types of the undead?¡± Caleb enthusiastically asked. Causing me more than a little discomfort.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Lesser and superior undead.¡± Jaimess leaned in to explain. ¡°Lesser Undead are the common skeletons, zombies, wraiths, and so on. They are often mindless. But Superior Undead have sentience and are recognized by glowing eye sockets. Draugr, mummies, the dread wrath outside, and, most famously, liches, are all Superior Undead.¡±


    ¡°Vampires too,¡± Amun added. ¡°But regardless of the type, they all see me as a¡­ sovereign, of sorts. So they¡¯ll never even dream of attacking me.¡±


    ¡°The God of Death.¡± Rodin grimly grunted.


    ¡°No.¡± Amun quickly shook his head. ¡°No, that¡¯s Nergal. I¡¯m more like a... King of the Dead.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for the religious type,¡± Yaramin commented.


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± Amun laughed. ¡°I was just forced to learn about the darker Gods during my education.¡±


    ¡°I must say,¡± I commented. ¡°You¡¯ve done so much for us, yet we hardly know anything about you. Other than that you are powerful and your pool of knowledge seems to be infinite. Tell me.¡± I paused to glance at the curiously worried expressions of Amun¡¯s vassals before turning my undivided attention to him. ¡°What¡¯s your story?¡±


    ¡°I was born on the thirteenth day of the eleventh month of the year 1475, to Emeric Cole and a Drow royal from Youtera named Eved.¡± He curtly explained.


    ¡°I- I¡± I stammered. ¡®Well, that was easy.¡±


    ¡°I knew you were of the Fae. But... drow?¡± Yaramin asked in visible shock. ¡°I heard they¡¯re terrifying beings from the Darkworld. Never in all my years have I heard of one coming to the surface. Much less breeding with a human.¡±


    ¡°My mother lived with me and my father until my awakening and has since returned home.¡± Amun shrugged. ¡°She told me children''s stories about Youtera, but nothing too specific. And she was kind to us.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to offend.¡±


    ¡°None taken.¡± Amun waved it aside. ¡°Anyway, I was a little sheltered until I was five when I met my Great-Grandfather. After he introduced me to elemental manipulation and my sorcery, I started my education, and Toril and Jaimess entered my service. After that, I was given a bit of freedom, I finished my education, and then I committed to training my vassals full-time. At ten, I went to Corvus Academy to train with my Great-Grandfather until I was fourteen. W-¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Yaramin shouted. ¡°You completed a royal education before you were ten!?¡±


    ¡°I read the material on my own and completed it in about a year.¡± Amun casually nodded. Much to everyone¡¯s dismay.


    I had to look to Jaimess to confirm and by the Gods, it was true. ¡°Unbelievable.¡± I gasped.


    ¡°Eh.¡± Amun shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m a fast reader with a photographic memory. Anyway.¡± He waved our confusion aside. ¡°While I was training, I was also holding a sort of tournament to choose three artisans while Toril and the others were training the students. Once my training was complete and the students graduated, I returned home with those three and continued training until the awakening ceremony.¡±


    ¡°Where you received four affinity cores.¡± Caleb finished. ¡°Four of them. That¡¯s unheard of!¡±


    ¡°Sounds like divine intervention,¡± Liam commented from behind Rodin. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see what class he becomes.¡±


    Either ignoring him or not hearing him, Rodin leaned over his food to capture Amun¡¯s attention. ¡°Your Great-Grandfather is the Necro King? What was his training like?¡± He asked.


    ¡°What was he like?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Each night, I was given lessons in recovery magic and lesser necromancy,¡± Amun stated. ¡°Come midnight, we¡¯d go outside for combat training, wherein he¡¯d beat me to the brink of death before I was healed. And we¡¯d go at it again. We fought on a daily basis. And on the weekends, he had me work as the executioner for his county. Then, after a while, he had us play war games against his Necro Army.


    ¡°As for how he is.¡± He shrugged. ¡°He¡¯s an aloof old man with a warm but twisted heart.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± I slowly nodded. Not really getting the full picture.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He chuckled into his glass. ¡°It was extremely painful.¡±


    ¡®So then¡­ where did this vast pool of knowledge come from?¡¯ I thought. ¡®As Liam said, it could only be from divine intervention. Which would also explain his power. But then again, I¡¯ve never heard of a non-religious Cleric or Champion. So then¡­ is his intellect a result of his elven blood? No. He¡¯s not a dragon. Perhaps his mother taught him Fae knowledge. But¡­ he knows of ¡®science¡¯ and ¡®technology,¡¯ not magic. So then¡­ what?¡¯


    ¡°Don¡¯t think about it too hard.¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Turning, I saw Toril resting his chin on his hand as he looked at me with an amused expression.


    ¡°Even if I tell you one day, I doubt you¡¯ll believe me.¡± He snorted. ¡°There was a time when we had the same faces you have now. Those were the words we were told after asking. So just pick a reason and run with it. That¡¯s what we did.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded. Took a sip of my glass and leaned in close to whisper. ¡°And what reason did you run with?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a God from outside these realms,¡± Toril smirked. Then leaned in as well. ¡°Which is all the more reason to follow him if you ask me.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± I leaned back in understanding. ¡°Thank you for the advice, Toril.¡±


    ¡°Anytime!¡± The young knight raised his drink with a beaming smile.


    ¡®Speaking of following him.¡¯ I turned to assess the room and find that, much like our table, the feast had transitioned into an inebriated period of conversation. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s that time.¡±


    ¡°What time?¡± Amun asked after suddenly turning.


    ¡°Time for our pledges!¡± Yaramin beamed, then hopped down from his seat to waddle before the table with the rest of us.


    ¡°I just¡­ feel like we should¡¯ve done this earlier.¡± Amun sheepishly rubbed his head. But otherwise remained in his seat and watched us get organized.


    With an affirmative nod to the rest of us, Rodin stepped away from the group to kneel before Amun. ¡°I¡¯ll start.¡± He grunted. Then paused to infuse mana into his voice and center his gaze on the ancient man trapped in an adolescent body. Looking with a somewhat shocked expression as Rodin said. ¡°I, Captain Dukeen Rodin, swear to remain vigilant in guarding the borders of our territory. Here and now, I declare my loyalty to Amun. Long live the Lord!¡±


    ¡°Long live the Lord!¡± The rest of us chanted. Prompting Rodin to backpedal into the crowd.


    While the rest of us followed Rodin''s actions, Amun¡¯s expression didn¡¯t seem to change a bit. The fact that he was uncomfortable with the sight was apparent, but it was also like he was seeing magic for the first time, the way he stared at us. And after we were finished, his surprise seemed to have been replaced with a curious glint of excitement.


    ¡°What was that?¡± He asked the moment we returned.


    ¡°A Loyalty Pledge.¡± Yaramin bobbed in his chair.


    ¡°With mana?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the way they¡¯ve been done since time immemorial,¡± I said. ¡°Rather unsettlingly, and misleadingly, imbuing mana into the voice is known as a Curse Spell. To put it simply, words hold immense power. If you merge something as powerful as words with something as powerful as mana, it becomes something that behaves much like a curse. If we ever break our promises, there would be dire consequences. But maintaining our promises may lead to great benefits.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Toril rocked in his seat. ¡°So that¡¯s how Paladins are made.¡±


    ¡°What kind of consequences,¡± Amun asked, ignoring Toril¡¯s epiphany.


    ¡°Well, some people die. Some lose the ability to walk. Some can no longer use magic. Or their hands. The result is always different, but always severe.¡± Yaramin wagged his finger. ¡°Some scholars believe it strips you of what you love the most about yourself. All I know is, there is nothing that would make me betray you. You have my word.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Amun smiled.


    Giorno, however, shot up from his seat and slammed his hands on the table. ¡°I want to redo mine!¡± He all but seethed at Amun. ¡°I want to do it the right way!¡±


    ¡°But we just did it.¡± Amun groaned.


    ¡°Over a year ago.¡± Toril snickered under his mug.


    ¡°Besides, it wouldn¡¯t be right to do it right now,¡± Amun said. ¡°Let¡¯s save it for when we return. Or later, at the very least.¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s your decision, I must oblige.¡± Giorno sat back down with a begrudging sigh. ¡°Excuse my outburst.¡±


    ¡°No worries.¡± He shrugged. ¡°If there¡¯s no other business to discuss. I¡¯m going to step out for a smoke. we¡¯ll be leaving tomorrow around noon. That¡¯ll place us at the capital around sundown if we take our time.¡±


    ¡®If you take your time.¡¯ I huffed in disbelief. And a bit of dismay as well. ¡°Ah, well.¡± I meekly nodded. ¡°We shall be eagerly awaiting your return. And.¡± I paused to give him a careful stare. ¡°Be careful in the capital.¡±


    ¡°What can you tell me about it?¡±


    ¡°Barriers stretch over the territories, preventing anything from entering from above; not to mention segregating the classes. It¡¯d be best to land before you reach the territories. I can tell you that you¡¯ll see many foul and inhumane things there. But you mustn¡¯t act on it. They have a low tolerance for troublemakers. So I highly advise you to be careful."


    ¡°I¡¯m just going to take a look-see.¡± Amun rolled his eyes.


    ¡®That¡¯s what I fear the most.¡¯ I sighed.


    ¡°At any rate.¡± Amun rose from his seat, grinning wide. ¡°I¡¯ve come up with a new name for this place.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Caleb beamed. ¡°Let¡¯s hear it.¡±

 85 - Waterline

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Well. I guess this is it.¡±


    ¡°For now.¡± I turned to Silas with a nod and had to fight against making a face at the somber expression he was wearing. ¡°Four years isn¡¯t that long.¡±


    He made a curious face like my words had just confirmed something for him but did nothing but watch as the party pulled away from the residents to gather around me.


    It wasn¡¯t the first time they¡¯d seen it, but the citizens looked with sheer amazement as we settled into our flying aids and took to the air. Like Toril in his chair, Jaimess was sending a series of powerful gusts over those standing below him as his paper bird flapped its wings to keep him afloat. Yet they still stared like he was a Pegasus descending from the clouds. Ed had made a capsule for himself that appeared much like Roheisa¡¯s magic chariot. Only, his was shielded by a glass dome and propelled by his Force Magic.


    Most majestically of all was Lucia. Flapping fluorescent white wings protruding from her back like your stereotypical angel. Even I was forced to admire how majestic she looked as she flew in a figure-eight above her Princess.


    ¡°Toril and I will take point,¡± I said after the moment had passed. ¡°Silas, everyone.¡± I nodded to them. ¡°See you later.¡±


    With that, I strengthened my Artificial Well, ripping me from my place above the Outer Yard and sending me on a near-suborbital trajectory due south.


    Toril and the others caught up not much longer. And within only a minute, the gathering of wood, stone, and bodies at the base of the mountain was reduced to a nigh-indistinguishable speck on the rolling terrain.


    With nothing but flying ahead of us for the next several hours, I did as the others were doing behind us and spent the time conversing with Toril. A decision that proved to be quite worthwhile.


    Evidently, he¡¯d asked Rodin about Classes. And, quite interestingly, Rodin told him that it¡¯s considered taboo to discuss how to obtain Classes at length with the ¡®unevolved.¡¯ In the end, he only said two things. That the only way to ¡®evolve¡¯ would be to join a guild or military in possession of a Divine Tree. And that everyone can obtain a class. Some even obtain them at a young age, even if they don¡¯t know it. Naturally, however, society has managed to gather an understanding of what the different classes were over the centuries. If only the common ones.


    The rarest of them were Sorcerers. Those like me, with unique affinities, passed down through the generations. Like a royal child inheriting an empire, being able to use Void, Dead, and Shadow magic was my birthright. And more so, my sorcery meant I didn''t need mana to cast with those energies so long as they were around me. That said, the House of Cole wasn''t the only Sorcerers in existence. And nor was the Lux.


    According to Rodin, the Silva Clans of Phaegrath were Sorcerers, as were both the House of Deapou and the Epethian royal family- made so by elven influence. But none were as famous as the sovereigns of light and darkness.


    The most common of the Classes was, surprisingly, the Witch and Wizard. The latter wasn''t privy to those with affinity cores, implying magic went far deeper than I realized. On the other hand, the former described those who used magic for healing rather than fighting. Or in other words, a magical doctor. Beyond that were Fighters like Rodin. Rogues like Liam, surprisingly. As well as Paladins and Clerics. As Toril surmised, Paladins were knights who gained power from a self-inflicted curse. An oath. Whereas Clerics were given higher powers through faith and prayer. Or in rare cases divine intervention. Which explained my relationship with Telin down to a T.


    While there were a few more Classes Toril told me of, I hardly listened to most of them, as they were more or less things I already heard. Bards, Druids, Monks, Barbarians. Thus instead I allowed his words to stream into my Eternal Eye while I pondered what Classes I¡¯d take in the future.


    If my guess was correct, I was a Cleric on top of being a Sorcerer. And I knew for a fact that I wanted to go down the Artificer route. Assuming I could even take on an additional class, that left me with choosing something that would make up for the material shown to me by the Association. Neg Stone. With the exception of perhaps my sorcery, my power meant nothing in the face of it. Yet, some of the spells I designed to affect my physical body remained intact. Usurped Life and Strength.


    If Toril¡¯s list was all there was, I was left with one potential class to take. And it was most likely one I already had. Thus I made a mental note of it and tossed all my thoughts from my mind to skim my eyes across the canopy in blissful silence.


    The forest was by no means as domineering as the forests back home in Odissi. The trees weren¡¯t nearly as tall, but they were far wider and more densely packed than what was found overseas. That, however, began to change with the passing of a few hours. The rolling alpine forest transitioned into clearing after broken clearing at first. Then, with the passing of Crag Lake, the trees disappeared entirely and became acres upon acres of farmland and rural housing. Followed then by several communities isolated by swathes of savannas before what appeared to be a middle-class city loomed into view.


    Wide cobblestone roads formed a grid of densely packed streets lined on either side by an uninterrupted row of towering buildings. Forming a sort of highway for the flock of ants moving around in the distance, all encircled by a low stone wall that radiated magic. A dome of it. Starting from the low wall and ending above the lake hundreds of kilometers away. Seeing it for what it was, I ensured my hair covered my ears and motioned to the rest of the group to come down for a landing around a hundred meters away from the barrier.


    Immediately, we were met with a range of curious gazes and disapproving scowls from those passing by. Like Silas and the residents, they were a wide range of skin tones, heights, and hair textures. But they were all dressed in shorts and button-up shirts bedazzled with pins and bobs and jewels that shined spotlights on their sneers and stares.


    As we approached the gate. A pair of guards wearing white and lime green-plated armor readjusted their posture and scanned the lot of us before shouting over the crowd.¡°Are you adventurers?¡± and ¡°You have passes?¡±


    While Toril, Ed, and I fought back our laughter, the guards exchanged a look and a sigh with each other before turning back to us.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I nodded. ¡°We¡¯re adventurers.¡±


    ¡°Then I assume it is your first time,¡± He said. ¡°If you don¡¯t have a pass, the cost to enter is one gold. Unless you are looking for a request. In that case, you will find the quest board in that building.¡± He pointed to what looked like a cathedral built next to the wall on our end. ¡°Be aware that the harm of another person''s property or any unruly behavior will result in your immediate arrest.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± I flicked him the coin. Then waited for the rest of the party to follow suit.


    ¡®Ridiculous.¡¯ I scoffed to myself. ¡®No identification, no queries as to one¡¯s business. Just fork over some gold and you can enter freely? Laughable.¡¯


    With no words or expressions, he deposited the coin into a pot and waved us through. Then returned to scanning the crowd as if we were now invisible to him.


    ¡®What, are you a robot?¡¯ I sneered at him in passing. Then turned my sneer to the many scowls and stares aimed at us from the locals. Everywhere I looked, they were people judging us off our appearance; our clothes alone. We weren¡¯t unkempt, dirty, or even smelly. Yet, their actions would make it seem like we reeked of something putrid.


    Following Roheisa¡¯s suggestion, we decided to check out the quest board and went inside the building to find that it was surprisingly empty. Only a few slips of paper were found on the board, each with written instructions on where to find the request giver and all for mundane jobs or tasks I¡¯d personally refuse to do. Deliver packages. Escort caravans. Track down runaways.


    Finding nothing of interest, we left to wander further into the city. Where we received more unsavory gazes and looked around in disgust at the culture thriving around us. From what I saw, the primary method of transportation was hand-carted wagons. Rickshaw wagons. Only, instead of being pulled around by willing and energetic adults, they were being carted by young boys and girls dressed in rags and chains. They were starved, clearly stressed beyond belief, and blatantly abused for all to see.


    It made me sick. It made all of us sick. But I understood the implications of acting out on it now, so I smothered my anger and continued to wander further through the city.


    It took us around three hours to arrive at the southern coast. In that time, we¡¯d passed through two more barriers and paid increasingly higher fees. Giving us entry to habitats full of an ever more pompous and pampered culture. Our walks brought us past all sorts of ¡®establishments¡¯ that had no business existing at all, much less in the daytime. Human auction houses. Guilds that specialized in kidnapping and slave capturing. Bondage halls- and not the good kind. The worst things one could imagine were just out in the open for all to see. Even here. Where the cliffs stood kilometers above the churning waters of a vast lake. Giving an unobstructed view of a cluster of towering columns sitting in the distance.


    Of course, it had a wall around it. And thus another barrier. And judging from the stone constructions protruding over the water, the bridge was made of similar magic as well.


    In short, the Epethian Capital was what I expected to see after learning I was to live in this universe. Class-based segregation, injustice, inequality, slavery, trafficking- the human condition; but not the one of wonderous curiosity beset upon them by nature. The avaricious one they claimed for themselves. The culture. Growing up in Odissi, where such a culture didn¡¯t exist and was frowned upon only made seeing it now feel worse.


    Much worse.


    Having seen nearly all we needed to, we turned back to leave at a brisk pace and stopped an hour in when we saw a large crowd gathering into a huge tent.


    By all rights, it appeared to be a circus of some sort. And though I didn¡¯t want to see slaves doing dangerous bouts at another''s command, I was curious to see what kind of animals they may have had, so I walked towards the entrance with the others behind me.


    ¡°No badge, no entry.¡± The woman spat as she pointed to a sign. ¡°Or are you another mud baby?¡±


    ¡°The fuck did you just call me?¡± I blinked rapidly.


    ¡°You heard me.¡± She snarled. "Knife-ear."


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± The princess grabbed my arm before I could reply to that stupid-ass excuse of an insult.


    I sneered at the lady before turning to free myself from her grasp.


    ¡°You all continue ahead,¡± I told them after breaking the line of sight from the tent. ¡°I¡¯m going to take a quick look-see inside.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t do anything stupid.¡± Roheisa wagged her finger in my face.


    ¡°I¡¯d never.¡± I scoffed. Then turned into a nearby restroom to step into a stall and dive into the Realm of Shadows.


    In an instant, the environment was transformed into an inverted and dilapidated version of what existed in reality. What was shrouded in darkness in the physical plane was bathed in patches of gray noticeably lighter than the little pockets of darkness persisting around the lampposts and streetlights. The restroom I was in was nothing more than a pile of rubble stacked on top of a stone foundation. Writhing grasses and spore-producing weeds stretched along roads, pocked with tar-like liquids and straddled with decayed buildings. The tent was nothing more than ripped canvas and rotten poles that stuck out from the ground at odd angles. But even then, the crowd of Epethians was present. Walking, sitting, and chatting away in their ghostly forms.


    I flew above the crowd back to the ticket booth and descended to the stand to phase through the lady''s mirror and turned back to observe her reaction. She soon grew pale and became doused in a cold sweat. Her voice and, soon after, her hands began shaking uncontrollably while she interacted with the customers until she eventually called someone forth to take her place. Then she hurried around the corner to squat under a light post and hug her shuddering body still.


    Satisfied with the result, I moved inside the circus proper to take a look around.


    While there were indeed slaves performing acrobatics, much to the exaggerated glee of the viewers, there was also an elephant getting whipped by a man at the center. Causing it to trumpet loudly before attempting to balance on a single leg. Prompting a wave of cheers to rise from the crowd. After its display, the elephant was soon pulled behind the curtains by an assistant of some sort. And, curious, I trailed after them to a backroom containing a massive cage and went to orbit the creature as it was prodded inside.


    It was a male. A young one. Both fresh and old scars ran the length of his body. Judging from his state, I assumed he¡¯d recently been captured and was refusing to be tamed. Assumptions that caused my blood to further boil.


    Curiously, however, it appeared to sense my presence and began trumpeting loudly. Thrashing its trunk dangerously close to the handler.


    ¡®No moment like the present.¡¯ I shrugged. And stuck my hands through the shade of some supports to flick a barrage of Shadow Bullets at the handler and another standing nearby. They immediately dropped low and started spinning about in place. One of them even started to spread fire about them in an attempt to see which only further distressed the elephant. With another flick of the hand, I sent of mass of mana into the elephant¡¯s shadow. Blooming a flower of Shade Tendrils to wrap around its body like the Kraken dragging a ship to the ocean depths.


    I sent out another barrage of Shadow Bullets. This time at the elephant to flood it with my mana, facilitating its passage into my pocket of darkness. Still, however, it trumpeted louder and louder throughout the entire process. I had to hit the handlers with a few more bullets until the elephant eventually disappeared into the pool of darkness.


    With my bounty now secured, I floated back a little to watch the handlers regain their vision and fall to their knees at the cage standing before them. Locked and empty. I could only laugh after imagining the performer¡¯s reaction after finding out an adult elephant had simply vanished into thin air.


    ¡®Oh, how I would pay to see that.¡¯ I laughed. But more than that, I wanted to leave this place once and for all. So I swam through the Shadow Realm until I rendezvoused with the rest of the group and fell into a lazy orbit around them until I found a chance to emerge without being seen.

 86 - The Necro Throne

    When the coast was clear, I stepped out from the shade of a lamppost and fell into step behind Toril. ¡°You guys ready?¡± I asked, causing all of them to jump mid-stride and even send a shrill yelp down the avenues.


    ¡°More than anything.¡± Toril groaned.


    ¡°So.¡± Roheisa skipped into step beside me to lean in close, squinting to see my features in the dim light. ¡°What did you see?¡±


    ¡°The culture.¡± I curtly replied, causing her a bit of confusion, but she said nothing as we approached the gate to make our exit.


    What smelled like the same guard was still posted there, with a single partner and their pot of gold. Like before, they scanned the vacant road ahead like mindless robots and said nothing as we passed.


    A few hundred meters later, Roheisa¡¯s shoulders visibly slumped in relief. ¡°Ugh!¡± She sighed. ¡°That place was awful.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°But it won¡¯t be that way forever. The seeds of change are being sown as we speak.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± The Princess rolled her eyes, then turned to send out a bit of magic with a wave of her hand to conjure another iteration of her steel chariot. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s past midnight. We need to rest. But.¡± She glance over her shoulder, then hopped on board. ¡°Not here.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll go to those clearings we passed just south of Hill Base. I¡¯ll set the pace.¡±


    So saying, I gently kicked off the ground to liftoff, then conjured my Artificial Well to accelerate me up and away to the northeast at well over Mach one. Even then, it took almost two hours for us to come to a gentle landing at the edge of the territories. Eager to end the day, the others wasted no time in unpacking their tents to nibble on some food and slip into bed for the night. I, however, wasn¡¯t tired in the slightest. So I placed Skoll, Hati, and my Doppelganger on security and dipped into my Shadow Pocket for a bit of exploration.


    Unlike the greater realm, my pocket of darkness was just that. An infinite and timeless realm composed of nothing but energy from the Shadow Realm. Much like how Grandpa Lich explained it, my Pocket was much like my own planet within the greater universe of the Realm. I could travel freely between the two, but everything here was inaccessible from there. In the grayed-out wash of night vision, I could see my hoard of gold had aggregated like a planetoid or golden egg in an ambiguous area near the ¡®surface¡¯ from where I emerged. My wealth of stone, wood, and other unrefined materials were aggregated in a similar fashion in other areas. And so too were all the animals I¡¯d hunted over the years like a ring of flesh orbiting around a moon of seeds, vegetables, and fruit. My weapons were also present. As were mine and the Princess¡¯ ships and the small assortment of books I¡¯d collected over the years.


    Further down, however, was where my Menagerie dwelled in harmony. Down there, the shadow mana was much denser; dense enough to be molded into permanent habitats by the troops. Most of them were holes of varying depths, shapes, and sizes. Naturally, Stewie, Roger, Jake, and Kit took up residency in such structures. But the most notable of them all was the wolves¡¯ den and Pora Bora¡¯s perch. The former was simply a comparatively large and complex cave, separated from the others by a fair distance. The latter was the closest to my material goods. In a similar cave burrowed in a semi-solid pillar of shade like a birdhouse. Conversely, Gero had a simple shade ¡®rock¡¯ that he¡¯d sit on when not swimming through the energy at his leisure. Like Hatchi, the octopus; and the three orcas, Chako, Orpheus, and Jima.


    Due to my meddling with time last week, my accuracy in gauging their transition was thrown off. Hopefully, however, that would be rectified with my new quarry. The tendrils had dragged it to the dark pit¡¯s basin, where it wildly thrashed about in protest of the semi-necrotic energy seeping into it. Sustaining it as its very composition was altered. However, the experiment needed variables to be complete. Creatures with less mass, greater mass, more or less intelligence, and so on. But that would¡¯ve had to be accomplished later, during the climb. What I was interested in sat below. So I continued descending past the elephant until I came upon a bramble wall made of black, ashen smoke.


    The gate to the Underworld.


    Or rather, my gate to the Underworld. A place I hadn¡¯t been to since my first introduction, for whatever reason.


    Like before, the vines untwisted and retracted on approach. Revealing a seemingly infinite ghostly plain spread beneath a sky sparesly sprinkled with stars. Unlike before, however, Two rows of green and white phantoms stood in a line before my throne like a platoon of divine protectors. The Aegis Souls were titanic figures. Dressed in a crusader''s garb and equipped only with tower shields, their visages were starkly different from the rugged bodies they came from. Naturally, that translated to the two rows of burning red souls spread out in front of them. The Burning Souls were like barbaric giants armed with nothing but their nails and teeth. The veins in the necks and brows bulged as they moved their lidless eyes across the still horizon unceasingly.


    Other than the pile of bodies I¡¯d saved, there was veritably nothing else for what looked like hundreds of millions of kilometers in every direction. It was a simple flat surface made of the same deathly smoke as the gates. The exception was, of course, the Necro Throne. As I¡¯d done before, I orbited it and took a moment to peer through the fog to view the abyssal expanse below. The Underworld. A Cold, dark realm, plagued by gelid tempests that carried the wails of eternally clashing spirits. The place where all who weren¡¯t saved by a deity wound up.


    And those who made deals with devils.


    Following my curiosity, I descended through the floor. And the moment I broke through, the sea of ghosts and spirits ceased their fighting and turned in unison to crane their necks in my direction. As I grew closer, they kneeled. Yet as I came to a landing on the black plain, they began to retreat. Almost in fear, and yet also from an invisible force pushing them away to give me ten meters of personal space. Ignoring the faceless ghosts, I turned my gaze upward to see my domain appearing like a bright star in the sky. The second brightest of them all. As I looked down, I both saw and began to fall below the Under. Into an infinite realm of impenetrable darkness- The void. While I was able to freely travel inside the place, I knew there was literally nothing to be found. Making it the perfect place to lock something away forever. But not much of a place worth exploring.


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    Satisfied for now, I returned to my throne to orbit around it a final time before slowly settling into it. Invoking a wave of death mana to be pulled from my core and sent out into the abyss. Making me feel¡­ connected. Both with my necrotic world and the greater Under.


    ¡®So, I guess I just call someone¡¯s name?¡¯ I wondered. Looked around for a few still moments until the impenetrable silence was broken by the echoes of a deep, brass-like voice.


    ¡°It seems your subconscious has summoned me here, o¡¯ Sovereign of Death.¡±


    Following the words, the airy substance on the ground began condensing and rising and bending the light into the visage of a human with a striking resemblance to my father. Lean, with dark skin, full lips, and a bulbous nose. With hair neatly fashioned into a flat top.


    Only, he looked around the same age as my dad.


    ¡°Azrael Cole.¡± I surmised.


    ¡°That¡¯s no way to address your grandfather, Amun!¡± He leaned back to send an amiable cackle rippling through the abyss. Then leaned forward to bury his shaking head in his hand. ¡°Why, you¡¯re just as Dad described you.¡±


    ¡°And how did he describe me?¡± I tilted my head in curiosity. ¡°I¡¯m surprised he spoke of me at all.¡±


    ¡°Hah! As was I!¡± He rocked back, smiling. ¡°He says you¡¯re extremely arrogant. That you lack respect for authority. And that you¡¯re powerful. Which means we¡¯ll get along just fine.¡±


    ¡°Well met.¡± I bowed at the neck. ¡°Granddad.¡±


    ¡°Eh. Call me Azrael.¡± He shrugged away the title. ¡°Azrael Cole. I was a great ranger back in my day. Known as the Shadow Puppeteer. Now, I am dead, but not undead. Even if it were allowed, I cannot be raised by either you or my father; lest one of you happens to find my body.¡± He grumbled. ¡°That said, Dad never took my death well. Much more so than my son. He hardly ever comes to visit.¡± He scoffed, then turned and held his gaze above.


    ¡°Pleased to meet you, Azrael.¡± I bowed my head. ¡°As you know, my name is Amun.¡±


    ¡°No need for formalities.¡± He waved again before pointing to where he was looking. ¡°I see you¡¯ve gathered a number of Shikigami. You have a good amount to start with.¡±


    ¡®Ugh. How do you even know that word?¡¯ I groaned inside. ¡°Thank you. I aim for no more than twenty. I call them my Tenebrous Menagerie.¡±


    ¡°Just the right number. And a fancy name to boot. A bit long though.¡± He looked down at me with a wide grin and burning pride in his eyes. Or perhaps something else.


    ¡°You just may be able to do what I couldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Capture a dragon.¡±


    ¡°A dragon?¡± I raised my brows.


    ¡°It¡¯s how I died.¡± He meekly shrugged. ¡°I was recently promoted to Ranked Mage and let it get to my head. I wanted to turn a dragon and earn another promotion. But, it didn¡¯t work out as planned.¡± He laughed, rubbing his head. ¡°I was eaten!¡±


    ¡°So then, turning a dragon wasn¡¯t possible?¡± I guessed.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s definitely possible to trap them.¡± He quickly said. ¡°They just have to be exhausted of magic and stamina. That said, dragons are different from any other creatures in existence. The process to change them is difficult. And they won¡¯t become regular Shikigami either. At least that¡¯s my theory.¡± He shrugged.


    ¡°Any idea as to what they¡¯ll become?¡± I asked. ¡°Or is it the obvious: a shadow dragon?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I wanted to find out,¡± he said as his slender finger was jabbed into my chest. ¡°But you, Amun, can find out.¡±


    ¡°It does sound appealing. And I do have an interest in dragons.¡± I admitted. ¡°But, I currently know next to nothing about them.¡±


    ¡°If the Bodhi Tree is still around, they¡¯ll teach you there. You¡¯re around that age, right?¡± He gestured to me with his chin.


    ¡°I¡¯m actually on my way there now.¡± I chuckled. ¡°If I ever come across one I¡¯ll surely attempt it.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± He beamed. ¡°In that case, I advise you to take the Beast-Master subclass and pick the Draconic Branch as your Favored Species. If you''re a ranger, that is. Now, if you have time to talk, I can tell you how I used our Shadow Sorcery.¡±


    ¡°I have time.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°Alright then. I assume you¡¯ve been taught the Shadow Clone spell?¡±


    ¡°It was the first spell I was taught.¡± I nodded.


    He proudly thrust his thumb into his ribs and shouted. ¡°I documented it!¡±


    "I''m aware." I stifled back a groan. Being the son of the Necro King, I halfway expected him to be amiably goofy. If not a bit insane. But the exuberance wasn''t much my cup of tea. ¡°I¡¯ve learned casting a cursed spell on them inreases their functionality,¡± I hurriedly said.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He nodded. ¡°That works with all spells. Makes them more powerful too. My specialty was in making living constructs out of darkness. You¡¯re probably familiar with creating tools out of solid shade?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°The next step in that is to create creatures from solid shade. As I said, my epithet was the Shadow Puppeteer. I attacked people¡¯s shadows, rather than their bodies. And I took control of them to make them move according to my wishes.¡±


    ¡°Since the shadows are a part of themselves, they must comply.¡± I grinned in amazement. ¡°That¡¯s good.¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s not all!¡± Azrael grinned. ¡°My signature move was to mold solid shade into creatures and give them life with our sorcery. That was the method I used to make Shikigami until I realized the technique you¡¯re using.¡±


    ¡®Finally.¡¯ I grinned internally. ¡®A teacher who just lays it all out.¡¯


    I listened intently to Azrael explain his spell. In essence, the creature¡¯s intellectual capacity or sentience was determined by intent when casting the spell. Mana influenced the overall strength of the creature. And the form was created by the imagination. In other words, it was the exact same thing I did under the influence of the Rage Souls when I created the Umbra Iris for the first time.


    ¡°That¡¯s more or less all there is to it.¡± He grinned. ¡°You seem like a smart kid. I¡¯m sure you can figure the rest out.¡±


    ¡°Certainly.¡± I nodded. ¡°Now then, if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯m curious to know what life was like during your time.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I was born in Deap Ridge in 1,344. The Empires were young back then. Dad¡¯s guild had been made into a military, and naturally, I grew up to serve in it. I went on many expeditions until I had your father in 1,419. I raised him in peace¡­ for a time. Then, I got the itch. I returned to adventuring in 1,428, was promoted in 1,429, and met my demise in 1,430. From what I understand, Dad got rid of the military and replaced it with his Necro Army afterward to keep Emeric from getting the same ego I had.¡±


    ¡®It all makes sense.¡¯ I nodded slowly. ¡°For whatever it''s worth, it worked. My Dad has made Grandpa Lich¡¯s Empire wealthy. Extremely wealthy.¡±


    Without warning, Azrael hunched forward on his knees. Snickering and laughing and repeating the words, ¡°Grandpa Lich.¡± Over and over again. ¡°Regardless, it seems like you¡¯ve inherited my will, Amun.¡± He eventually turned back to me, beaming ear-to-ear. ¡°Dad has told me of your ambitions. And I¡¯ve heard many stories of the Fae. I¡¯m undoubtedly certain that you can change the Mortal Plane itself. You have my support all the way.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for your support, Azrael.¡± I bowed. ¡°And thank you for your wisdom.¡±


    ¡°Anytime.¡± He grinned. ¡°Just call on me if you ever want to talk again.¡±


    ¡°I most definitely will.¡± I chortled before rising from the throne- my throne- creating an inverse wave of energy that took away the energy keeping Azrael¡®s ''body¡¯ held together.


    ¡°I plan on talking to all of you.¡±

 87 - The Climb

    After emerging from my Pocket, I settled in my tent for a stint of meditation and awoke to a burning sun and a cacophony of roars coming from the tents around me. A serenade of snores for my Doppelganger, hunched over a campfire and pot filled with a mountain man breakfast in the making.


    ¡°How do you feel?¡± I asked, pointing at the sun. To which he shrugged.


    ¡°Weak. But, look.¡± he- I, pointed to the distance with a hardly contained laugh. Being the same as him, I erupted in a similar fit after looking to the edge of our perimeter. Where a pair of knee-high shadow pups were snarling their cute little teeth at us.


    ¡°Now that¡¯s adorable.¡± I chuckled.


    ¡°They¡¯re so mad.¡± My clone laughed.


    With upturned snouts and dirt kicked in our direction, Skoll and Hati retreated into the shadows. Leaving me and my clone rolling on the ground in unrestrained laughter.


    Coincidentally, our antics served as an alarm clock for the others. Who ripped their tents open with scowls and curses that disappeared the moment scents of egg, potatoes, and meat wafted into their noses. While they went about their morning routines, I made small talk with my clone and helped in finishing breakfast and divvying out the portions. Then joined everyone for a hearty meal and a short discussion.


    ¡°So, we¡¯re doing the thing today?¡± My Doppelganger nudged me with his elbow.


    ¡°Thing?¡± Roheisa perked up at once. ¡°What thing.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said through my food and gave him the go-ahead to explain in my stead.


    ¡°The book we gave you after we departed.¡±


    ¡°The one on mana manipulation?¡± Jaimess asked.


    ¡°The very one.¡± My clone nodded. ¡°The main focus was the Mana Skin. But we think humans can infuse mana into their bodies as well. That¡¯s what we wanna try today.¡± He jerked his thumb to the mountain behind us. ¡°We¡¯re pretty sure we won¡¯t be able to get far using the technique. So we¡¯ll go for as long as we can and take it easy until we recover.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a real busybody. You know that?¡±


    I fought back the temptation to roll my eyes as I turned to Roheisa. ¡°I¡¯m only trying to be as prepared as possible for the academy.¡±


    ¡°Feel free to do what you want. But we¡¯re not waiting for you.¡± My clone finished.


    ¡°You can be a real jerk too!¡± She scoffed. ¡°I never said it was a bad thing!¡±


    ¡°Then why say it at all?¡± My clone sighed, much to my amusement.


    ¡°Forgive him,¡± I recalled him before she could go off. ¡°He becomes irritable in the sunlight.¡±


    ¡°And you don¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°Not anymore.¡± I snorted. ¡°Anyway. We have sixteen days until the deadline. So, we basically have all the time in the world to make our way to the summit.¡±


    The rest of breakfast was spent in relative silence. Staring up at the huge mountain before us while our Doppelgangers packed away our tents. Afterward, Toril was eager to be the first to test my theory. Along with Lucia, who stood by his side. Lowered in a modified fighting stance just as he was. At more or less the same time, they started drawing the ambient mana around their bodies into a shroud of glimmering energy. And as the seconds passed, they began groaning and straining to pull the energy into their bodies. Reducing the shining blanket into a barely visible film of energy.


    With my years of practicing with raw mana and the arcana flowing in my mana well, the process was magnitudes easier for me than it was for the two knights. Unlike me, they were straining themselves to keep the skill active while the others charged up. And the moment they were, Toril and Lucia kicked off the ground. Sending chunks of grass and dirt flying in their wake. While Toril quickly fell into a rhythmic stride, Lucia tripped after the first couple of steps and rolled to a comical landing twenty meters away from where she started. As did Jaimess, Roheisa, and Ed, who found themselves panicking in the face of their newly awakened superseded. Still, though, they caught up to trail behind Toril and I in no time at all, and only occasionally lost their footing during the three hours we spent leaping through the trees.


    After a half-hour rest, we were on the move again. Walking at a brisk pace up a moderately steep slope of decaying leaves and stone outcroppings. While the others were still a bit weary, our supplies and most of our weapons were stashed in some form of dimensional storage, leaving us with little weight to carry besides that on our bodies. That lack of labor allowed us to keep a decent pace while soaking in the environment to our heart''s content. While we kept our wits about us, we also admired the abundant flora and fauna and quickly started to point out the things we saw. Mostly birds, painted in every color one could think imaginable. But also an immense variety of insects and small mammals or reptiles one would expect to see in an alpine tropical region such as this. It was amazing even for me. Thus I couldn''t begin to imagine how it was for the others, who spent their entire lives in the dreary winter of our homeland.


    It took about five hours for something notable to happen. In that time we barely made it a fraction of the way to the summit and had seen or sensed all sorts of potentially dangerous creatures. But this presence, I couldn¡¯t ignore. I noticed it first by smell. It carried with it, an acrid scent along with the stench of blood; faint, but it was there. It moved behind us in near silence. But I could still hear four digitigrade paws softly thumping against the ground to our rear as it stalked us. It was fairly massive, yet dense and thus perhaps no more than a meter in height. Most importantly, its heat denoted a warm-blooded animal. Mammalian.


    Panthera.


    ¡®Finally.¡¯ I stopped in place, grinning wide. And as I turned about, the thumping grew louder, twigs snapped, and the birds fled a mere instant before a guttural roar bellowed through the jungle. Through the broken brush came a lion-sized panther, leaping through the air its jaws opened wide. Charging my fingers and my eye with Space-Time Magic, I waited for the beast to get in range and swipe with its paws before I touched it as gently as possible. Then I winked.


    With a definite ¡®Pop,¡¯ the beast vanished and reappeared at the woodline it emerged from to slide to a grinding halt. Then it hesitated, evidently in confusion after somehow failing its ambush. Regardless, it soon after charged once again. Only this time, I opened my Pocket to allow a hulking figure to leap from the ground and land beside me with a dull thud. After making eye contact with the panther, Gero emitted an ear-splitting croak that rattled the very trees. Causing my companions to shudder while the panther nearly tripped mid-stride. After making its presence known, Gero opened its mouth wide and spat out its tongue- or stomach actually, but I digress. The organ, leathery black in texture and color, flew out towards the beast and smacked against its face hard enough to twist and entwine the panther¡¯s body in frog guts before it was disappeared with a comical gulping sound.


    After a quick look around, Gero noticed nothing else of interest and jumped up to drop down into a pool of shadow produced all on his own.


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    ¡°You better not eat that!¡± I yelled after him. Then turned to the others in the same breath. ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡±


    Jumping inside, I saw the panther attempting to swim through the darkness like the elephant was last night. Now, the latter was more or less docile. Relaxed in free fall and uncaring of the larger volumes of mana flowing within it.


    ¡®Interesting.¡¯ I smiled. ¡°This is better than a life in the circus, huh?¡±


    Undoubtedly hearing me, the elephant let out a deep bellow that echoed back and forth through my pocket.


    ¡°Alright then.¡± I patted his massive head. ¡°I think I¡¯ll call you Humphrey. And since I¡¯m at it.¡± I turned to the panther. ¡°You¡¯ll be Tao.¡±


    As it usually did, hindsight slapped me in the face the moment my words were spent. Luckily, however, naming them seemed to have no effect on their transition. So, with their times and conditions logged, I slipped through the Shadow Realm to rendezvous with my companions.


    ¡°I¡¯m back.¡±


    ¡°Jeez!¡± Toril jumped before turning to me, horrified. ¡°I¡¯m never going to get used to that.¡± He groaned.


    ¡°So, how many does that make?¡±


    ¡°Eleven.¡± I grinned.


    ¡°Eleven!?¡± The princess squinted in suspicion. ¡°I thought you had nine before?¡±


    ¡°I freed an elephant from the circus.¡± I nonchalantly shrugged.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t!¡± Roheisa gasped.


    Stepping forward, I placed my hand on her shoulder and gave her an implicant smile. ¡°Sometimes you get kicked by a horse, these things happen.¡±


    ¡°W-what?¡±


    ¡°More importantly.¡± I pushed through her bemusement. ¡°We made good time earlier. Three hours of mana infusion was a lot more than I expected.¡±


    ¡°It was... exhilarating.¡± Jaimess dreamily said.


    ¡°Sundown is just over three hours from now who¡¯s up for another round?¡±


    While Roheisa continued to point her dagger-like eyes at me, the others agreed to my suggestion and took to charging themselves and disappearing through the woods. Still, she followed. And still, she kept her scrutinizing gaze held in my direction until we slowed our pace to a walk and began looking for a place to make camp. It only disappeared when our plot was decided. Wherein we pitched in for the pot and dispersed to relax the hours away in our tents.


    ---


    ¡°Can I sit?¡±


    Without averting my gaze, I gave Roheisa a nod and shifted against the tree to accommodate her.


    She took her time to get seated and wound up sitting suspiciously close to me before she leaned in even closer to wave a steaming bowl of stew under my nose. ¡°Here.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± I smiled at her, then went in for a bite. ¡°And sorry for my¡­¡± I waved my spoon around as I attempted to find the word. ¡°Brashness, earlier.¡±


    ¡°How unlike you.¡± She giggled. ¡°But there¡¯s no need to apologize. Your brashness is one of the things I like about you.¡±


    ¡®Don¡¯t make it weird.¡¯ I mentally pleaded to her. But the narcissistic beast within had already been prodded awake. ¡°One of the things?¡± I charmingly grinned.


    "If you¡¯re trying to embarrass me, you¡¯ll have to try harder.¡± She laughed sarcastically. ¡°But yes. You¡¯re a genius, which gives you a pass for your eccentrics. And you¡¯re kind.¡± She paused and winced as if she regretted what she just said. ¡°In your own way.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± I raised my spoon in protest. ¡°You¡¯re making it weird.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m serious!¡± She nudged her shoulder against mine. ¡°You claimed you were acting in self-interest, but you truly wanted to help those people.¡±


    ¡°Both are true.¡± I shrugged. ¡°But, I don¡¯t wish to help everyone just because.¡±


    ¡°Lie to yourself all you want.¡± She huffed. ¡°But your ambitions say otherwise.¡±


    Hearing those words, I froze. My mind went blank and when I came to, I found myself tapping my spoon on my chin. Softly saying. ¡°My ambitions, huh?¡±


    ¡°I can tell that you¡¯re serious.¡± She nodded. ¡°About your guild and taking back Ulai. Only a kind soul would wish to burden themselves with such a task.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not burdening myself.¡± I laughed. ¡°I''m not the only one who saw the ways of this realm and made some pipe dream to change it into something better. Few have had the power, physical or otherwise to make it a reality. I am one of those few. Thus if I were to sit aside and let the realm continue to rot under such conditions, I¡¯d be no better than the ones who created what we saw yesterday. That¡¯s why I chose to uplift Hill Base and teach the students of Corvus Academy. Now, I have over seven hundred allies to support me while I¡¯m gone. And I will one day have many legions standing behind me.¡±


    ¡°Normally that would imply a dangerous intent,¡± Roheisa said. ¡°But, coming from you, I find myself deeply curious, if not eager to see how you¡¯ll do it. In fact.¡± She huffed. ¡°Almost everything about you makes me curious.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re making it weird again.¡±


    ¡°I want to join you.¡± She declared. ¡°But on three conditions. I will only take orders from you. Lucia will only take orders from first you, and then me. And I will swear as your friend that I won¡¯t betray you, but I won¡¯t pledge my loyalty to you with mana. I¡¯m not your subject.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine, but I have conditions as well,¡± I said.


    ¡°Alright.¡± She stiffened up. ¡°Let¡¯s hear them.


    ¡°First is that Lucia has to decide if she wants to follow me for herself,¡± I said. ¡°Second, each of you must agree to keep any information I pass onto you to yourselves unless I say otherwise. If you accept those conditions, you have a deal.¡±


    ¡°I agree.¡± She held out her hand.


    ¡°Very well then.¡± I took her hand in mine and shook it firmly. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a Doppelganger later.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± She muttered, settled herself on the ground, and rested her head on my shoulder.


    ¡®I¡¯ll allow it.¡¯ I sighed.


    ¡°I¡¯ve noticed you look up at the stars a lot.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, there''s not too many of them.¡± I snorted.


    ¡°My father read me stories about them when I was a little girl. We used to sit outside, like we¡¯re doing now, and I¡¯d listen to him talk about the Gods.¡±


    ¡°The Gods?¡± I turned to her.


    ¡°Mhmm.¡± She nodded. ¡°According to him, that¡¯s where the ascended gods and their lesser deities, demigods, and champions live. In vast realms far larger than the Mortal Plane. Where they can run free with their power.¡±


    ¡°I had to learn a bit about them.¡±


    ¡°That is the Zenith Cluster.¡± She pointed directly overhead to a pair of bright stars. ¡°The big white one is the second brightest in the night sky and is the den of Bahamut. The Draconic God of Benevolence, Truth, Protection, and Justice. The blue one next to it is the Goddess of Humanity, Winter, Fertility, and Festivals, Yue. And the white one is Ein, the God of Knowledge, Lore, History, and wisdom.


    ¡°That one is the Fae Cluster.¡± She pointed to the southeast, above the glistening skyscape suspended over Ulai. ¡°That blue-white star is the brightest. Where Faeyna, the Elven goddess of Fae, Magic, Art, and High Elves. The yellow one below it is Caelarin, the Elven God of Fertility, the Harvest, Nature, and surface elves. And the red one off to the side is Lilith, Goddess of Deception, Fate, Chaos, and Drow.¡±


    ¡°I heard she likes spiders.¡± I chuckled, then motioned for her to continue.


    ¡°The last one is the Wrath Cluster.¡± She pointed south, just above the region the sun bobbed in and out of every day- but not at its zenith. ¡°All the stars are red, but the largest of them is Tiamat, Draconic Goddess of Malevolence, Lies, Cruelty, and Greed. Second-brightest is Sutark, God of War, Hatred, Vengeance, and Fury. Followed by Viltramas, God of Conquest, Power, Victory, and Campaigns. The two smaller ones are D¡¯verrahh, Goddess of Insects, Poison, Acid, and Disease; and Zahir, God of Assassins, Anarchy, Rebels, and rogues.¡±


    ¡°So they live out there, huh.¡± I gasped in admiration.


    ¡°That sounds like wanderlust.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because it is.¡± I turned to her with a snort. ¡°Also, you forgot two. The God of Death, the Underworld, Souls, and Curses, Nergal. And the Goddess of Secrets, Undeath, The Shadow of Death, and the Shadow Realm, Grimm.¡±


    ¡°They aren¡¯t present in the night sky.¡± Roheisa shook her head.


    ¡°Tch.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t think you¡¯d be so frustrated.¡± She chuckled.


    ¡°I want to find those to more than any of the others,¡± I said.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I have to fight them.


    ¡°Anyway.¡± I rose before the questions came. ¡°I¡¯m gonna do a bit of scouting.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± She shook her shock aside and rose to her feet. ¡°I¡¯ll come with you.¡±


    After separating ourselves from camp, we started down the path in companionable silence. Relative silence, as her footsteps stood out to me. To my eleven senses, her steps were like the thunderous quakes produced by a strolling giant. And my footsteps being silenced by my shadow seemed to only amplify her noise. Still, though, she was cautious. Squatting down with each step to gently place her feet as close to where mine passed as she could. After an hour passed, we began to think about turning around when we noticed the animals were far less abundant. Not even the bugs were chattering away. Yet a few broken twigs or snapping branches could be heard in the distance.


    ¡°Let¡¯s investigate,¡± Roheisa whispered.


    I had to admit, I was a bit intrigued by the sudden lack of life coupled with an absence of death. So I motioned for her to take point and stalked behind her. It didn¡¯t take long thereafter for us to hear a loud, rhythmic beating echoing through the night. Followed by a manic howl that seemed to spread and multiply across the canopy. Just as I looked up, a hulking, furry figure dropped down to land behind us with a loud thump. Roheisa conjured a steel sword and twisted on her feet in the same motion, guard raised and ready to attack or parry at a moment''s notice. Then she backpedaled.


    ¡°W- what in the Seventeen Hells is that!?¡±

 88 - War Party

    With a hand glowing like the heart of a volcano, Roheisa sent out a quick jab to whatever it was that¡¯d dropped behind us. Launching a flaming, molten boulder into the creature and much of the forest behind it. Turning the relatively peaceful environment into a hellscape of magma pools and charred remains.


    ¡°Well damn, don¡¯t burn down the forest!¡± I spat at her, flicking a mass of shadow mana at her collateral in the same motion.


    The night dampened in an instant, yet remained illuminated by the blue-violet glow flickering off the Flames of Moil. A bit more mana coupled with a little intent saw me summon the Umbral Iris to examine our surroundings, prompting Roheisa to nearly backpedal into a tree.


    ¡°W- What the hell is that?¡±


    ¡°My most-powerful scrying spell," I said, gazing through the multi-faceted shadows. Then chuckled wryly after realizing just what it was calling us out from the canopy. They had long, somewhat shaggy fur that appeared a mottled brownish-gray color. On their backsides and muzzles, however, their fur took on more vibrant hues like golds, blues, and reds. In other words.


    ¡°It¡¯s a troop of mandrills.¡± I turned to the Princess, shaking my head. ¡°They don¡¯t have magic, but they¡¯re strong; and worse, extremely violent. And.¡± I turned back to my screen with a sigh. ¡°There are hundreds of them.¡±


    ¡°I don''t know what those are but I''d rather not fight them if we don¡¯t have to,¡± Roheisa said. ¡°Still, though, they surely pose a problem.¡±


    ¡°I agree.¡± I nodded. ¡°That said, we will have to come through here tomorrow. We could bypass them by flying over, but.¡± I sighed. ¡°Who¡¯s to say they won¡¯t follow us.¡±


    ¡°True. We''ve clearly encroached on their territory. If we leave now, they may follow us back to camp. I guess we have no choice.¡± With another sigh, she stepped forward with her weapon at the ready.


    ¡°Wait!¡± I reached out to stop her.


    ¡°What!?¡± She spun with a sudden ferocity that left me a bit taken aback.


    I released her at once with my palms bared. Yet my amiable grin was ever firm as I said. ¡°Well, you can fight if you want. But I was going to test the might of the Menagerie. I¡¯m going to observe. Just try not to get hurt.¡± Before she could say anything else, I opened my Pocket and used a bit of gravity magic and mana infusion to leap high onto the trunk of a tree to sit down, light a smoke, and enjoy the show.


    By then, the entirety of the Menagerie had been unleashed. Together, they charged. Spreading to wherever enemies were present like a nightmarish tidal wave. Naturally, Chako, Orpheus, and Jima were the first to close the distance and make contact. They swam through the ever-present darkness in a single file, gracefully skimming past the trees to deliver a swipe from their tail fins powerful enough to split the ancient trunks apart like dry twigs. The mandrills then dropped like giant screaming flies, right into the maw-filled sea of shadow rabbits. Hatchi was close behind the trio. Spinning through the sea of darkness like a black, rubbery, eldritch abomination while his barbed tentacles flailed with wild abandon. They grasped and ripped tore and shredded into whatever leaves, flesh, or bark happened to be in their way.


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    While the sea of Rogers tended to the feast delivered from on high, Stewie and Kit were on a mad dash between the remaining trees. Running back and forth to any mandrill-holding branch to either gnaw it free from the trunk or create an illusion to taunt the mandrills off their perches. Sending a delivery of fresh opponents for Skoll and Hati to turn their ravenous maws on. Jake announced his presence soon after by coiling up a tree at a nerve-racking pace. Growing in girth with each passing meter while his tail stayed loosely coiled on the ground. He made it halfway to the top before waves of loud, splintering creaks pierced the cacophony of howls and screeches until his weight toppled yet another ancient tree down.


    Even with all the chaos, at least a dozen mandrills remained in the back. The three largest of them all were at the rear, watching the battle unfold like a band of seasoned generals while their guards struggled to fend off Pora Bora¡¯s harassment. Through our linked sight, I was given a first-person view of her weaving between the trees at breakneck speeds to bite and claw at eyes and ankles like an armed drone. Still, though, she needed reinforcements. So I pulled shadow mana into my throat and shouted into the darkness. "Gero, Skoll, Hati, with me.¡±


    They dipped into the darkness at once. And so to did I, to swim through the cemetery of rotted trees and hollowed trunks to where the cloud of ghostly apes floated. After emerging on their branch, I simultaneously summoned Gero and sent a pair of bullets at the furthest mandrill¡¯s feet to spawn a flower of Shade Tendrils. While Gero and my spells did their work, I flung another bullet at the branch ahead of them. Allowing Skoll and Hati to rocket out of my pocket and tackle the troop''s general into eternal night.


    ¡°I swear if you eat that..." I warned the ravenous wolves. And when I turned back, one of the troop chieftains was already deep in Gero¡¯s maw while their compatriot was receding back into the depths with a somehow guilty expression.


    By then, the battle was winding down and I had all I wanted out of this battle: three somewhat intelligent and undoubtedly powerful beasts and a measure of my troop''s strength. I had a specific purpose for these apes. Unlike the others. More so, I had more variables in my little experiment and the path forward would be clear. In other words, I was pleasantly surprised by this encounter. Roheisa, on the other hand, was so stricken that she hardly acknowledged my arrival after she''d noticed my presence. Instead, her gaze was locked onto the slaughter-fest going on before us.


    Whatever mandrills remained were desperately vaulting over the maze of fallen trees to avoid their predators. Yet no matter how much they tried, tail fins larger than houses smashed them into a crimson paste; barbed tentacles ripped them apart; illusions saw them leap onto branches that simply weren''t there; or they were simply devoured alive. While my troops had taken damage during the battle, the ambient darkness seemed to not only sustain them but heal them to a minor effect as well. What wasn¡¯t healed was easily made up for by the bountiful feast spread out around them. Though, strangely, none of them seemed to want to eat other than to mend themselves. Instead, they dragged the maimed corpses into the shadows to assumedly store for later.


    ¡°Don¡¯t destroy the forest, you said.¡± Roheisa chided with a dusted sneer written across her face.


    ¡°Don''t burn down the forest," I said. And, as you can see.¡± I spread my arms around us with a smug grin. ¡°No fire.¡±


    ¡°And a missing patch of forest.¡± She snorted.


    ¡°Eh.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Better than a burning mountain- a beacon seen from the Epethian capital.¡±


    ¡°Regardless, I didn¡¯t expect them to be so strong. It was a bit disturbing, though.¡± She gagged after witnessing my orcas scoop a pile of corpses into their mouths and disappear into the darkness.


    "You''ll get used to it."


    She remained silent for the few minutes it took for my troops to salvage what they could and retreat into my Pocket. Reducing the once chaotic environment to a blood-stained, broken forest plagued with an eerie stillness.


    ¡°Shall we continue?¡± Roheisa whispered with a gesture up the mountain.


    ¡°The noise probably scared off any nearby animals, so we may as well go back.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°Okay then, how about a race?¡±

 89 - Crown Summit

    No noteworthy encounters arose over the next two days. After the troops were captured, I returned to camp with Roheisa to give everyone a crash course on military mountaineering before we slept or meditated the night away. And after breakfast, we walked as a group until we came upon the damage from the night prior.


    While Roheisa explained what happened, I went ahead to store the felled trees in my Shade Pocket and voided whatever else remained to restore the excuse of a path that existed before. Then we infused mana into our bodies and started to cover some real distance.


    Throughout those days on the trail, our proficiency in using the skill quickly grew. Our first stint lasted three and a half hours. And after an hour of lunch, we went on to increase our time by almost fifteen minutes. Our next break increased our limit to four hours. And we would have improved more, had we not made camp just after sundown. In a small stone outcropping a few ways away from the game trails we were following up the mountain, we popped out tents and without any prior agreements, everyone spent that night practicing their mana infusion and marveling at the results. Boulders were lifted and tossed down the mountain. Cracks were punched into rock faces. And hours were spent in a fighting stance, concentrating to keep both the mana skin and the infusion skills active.


    The next days went by in much the same fashion. We raced through the woods at highway speeds from breakfast till past lunch. Only slowing to catch our breaths in the increasingly thinning air. During lunch, I went on a little hunting trip and came across a herd of mountain goats. After stashing them in a subspace and teleporting more to Hill Base, I came back to Lucia agreeing to follow me along with Roheisa. Thus a couple hours had to be sacrificed to give them their books and equipment, spawn their doppelgangers, and give an impromptu lesson on making pemmican. Luckily, it only took around four more hours to arrive at the crown of trees brushing the ceiling of clouds like seaweed would breach the water''s surface.


    The path leveled out to a stone plateau that gave unbridled views of Maru. To the south, the bright blue-white light of the sun was tinted green on the left side by virtue of the continent-sized barrier surrounding the Epethian territories. Beyond that, the blinding radiance of the sun was reflected into the shape of a glittering cone that stretched for countless leagues across the World Sea. On and on and on until a faint speck of brown finally met my eyes. To the west, we could see Hill Base appearing like an unnatural growth extending from the base of the mountain, far away. A ring scaled down to the size of an anthill filled with smaller growths and boils that represented the towers and buildings we toiled to create. They overlooked a vast, rolling forest that thinned and thinned until it met the fields of stone bordering the coast. Mirroring it was the land we could only see on a map. The vast desert we were due to cross. Beyond which sat a smaller sea that separated this continent from Phaegrath; a vast and exotic land spread before the apple of my eye, Ulai. A colossally Jurassic time capsule trapped behind a beefed-up version of the barrier spread over the Epethian mainlands. And then there was the land we all left behind. From here, Deapou looked like an oversized chunk of ice floating curiously high above the waterline. An unending sheet of white, no different from the larger sheets to the far north. Other than the towering volcano overlooking the land.


    Though the lands in each cardinal direction were laid bare, the grounds before us remained obscure. The path continued to an unknown height beyond the clouds. Possibly for only a few hundred meters before the summit leveled out in the perpetual fog. On the contrary, it could continue for leagues upon leagues. Higher than the atmosphere itself, even. There was simply no way to know for certain. Except to keep climbing. And so, we climbed. Albeit slowly after breaching the cloud ceiling. The ensuing fog grew dense enough to obscure even my visibility, cutting our already leisurely pace in half.


    It took us nearly five hours to climb just over two kilometers through the clouds. Only to arrive at a sheer, smooth cliff. It was¡­ abnormal. Unnatural. A perfectly smooth, curved facade, much like a stone pillar but with an organic texture. Almost like something undoubtedly tree-like had been weathered down to a smooth surface and petrified.


    We ascended in pairs, pulling ourselves over the lip of whatever it was with as much finesse and grace as possible. What we landed on was a perfectly circular and perfectly flat surface with a radius far above the several hundred-kilometer range. Despite us facing nothing but a sheer cliff during the final ascent, the mountain had managed to push slim peaks above the rim to the north and south, increasing the distinction between the natural stone and whatever it was we were standing on.


    It somehow appeared both natural and unnatural. Thousands of concentric rings resembled the severed trunk of a magnificent tree. Yet, no moss, weeds, or even a single blade of grass could be found on the surface; unlike the spires hanging over it. And then there was the ambient mana. It was much more potent than anywhere I¡¯ve been thus far, appearing almost like slush that permeated the air.


    More so¡­


    ¡°What is this?¡± Jaimess asked, seemingly to himself.


    ¡°Holy shit!¡± I snapped my arm away from the ground.


    Startled by my outburst, Roheisa came charging to my side ahead of everyone else. ¡°What is it?¡±


    Slowly, I reached back out to touch the countless- almost indiscernible rings. And again, I felt a somewhat sorrowful energy flow into me. There were no screams. But I knew what it was the moment I felt it. ¡°This thing is¡­ dead.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Roheisa gasped.


    ¡°I thought each realm having a Tree of Life was just a figure of speech.¡± I stood, scoffing in amazement. ¡°But this is the Marulean Tree of Life.¡±


    ¡°How do you know it¡¯s not a divine tree?¡± Roheisa asked. ¡°The ones guilds use?¡±


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    ¡°It could be,¡± I said, rubbing the ground with my foot. ¡°But I can sense its body, in a sense. This thing''s roots are as deep as its trunk is tall. It goes under all the oceans. Stretches beneath all the continents. All the way to the Darkworld. But it¡¯s dead from end to end.  It''s been severed by¡­ something.¡±


    ¡°Something powerful, truly,¡± Toril grunted. "Or someone."


    ¡°I wonder how long it¡¯s been like this,¡± I muttered. ¡°I wonder whose corpse I have to ask in order to find out.¡±


    ¡°Ugh.¡± Roheisa groaned. ¡°I keep forgetting you have powers over death, what with your flying about all the time.¡±


    ¡°I also have no undead yet.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°Why is that?¡± She asked.


    ¡°I want something sentient and powerful as my first undead.¡± I proudly stated. ¡°A human won¡¯t do. I want something like a centaur or a demon-¡±


    ¡°Or a unicorn!¡± Lucia shouted, then immediately withdrew herself into her hands.


    ¡°Sure.¡± I shrugged. ¡°After that, pretty much everything I kill will be raised. Unless I find something else to do with them.¡±


    ¡°Seems pretty dumb.¡± Roheisa snorted.


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± I shrugged. ¡°But regardless, I want to stay here and study this tree for a bit. As of tomorrow, we¡¯ll have thirteen days until the deadline. I say we stay here no less than five. After that, we¡¯ll fly over the desert and spend whatever time we have left on the water.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Toril scratched at his patchy chin. ¡°It¡¯ll give me time to train.¡±


    Jaimess raised his hand. ¡°I do need to go over some things.¡±


    ¡°And I have a project I wanna finish,¡± Ed added.


    "I don¡¯t particularly care.¡± Roheisa shrugged.


    Following a few other affirmations, we dispersed to different areas of the northern peak to set up our sleeping arrangements for the next half week.


    Up here above the clouds, we had no risk of getting rained on. But the wind was another animal entirely. Taking that into account, I laid out a space wide enough for me to sit or lay comfortably next to my tent bag and built a simple lean-to around it. With the addition of a few rugs, a small table, and a small wood stove, my accommodations were complete enough to warrant a little downtime. So I lit a smoke and walked around the platform to observe the other''s shelters.


    Ed, Toril, and Jaimess were the closest to me, on my right. And it seemed as if they¡¯d taken a liken to subterranean living, as they¡¯d dug into the peak to create little caves for themselves. The deepest of them was Ed¡¯s, at the center. Dug deep enough for a somewhat communal area to be placed before his room with the other two straddling it. Together, they were helping to throw down a feast of grilled meats and vegetables while Roheisa and Lucia were steadily working on more¡­ elegant designs. They both had tall, square tents that were as large as a common living room. From what I could see, the insides were fully furnished with rugs, couches, beds, and even a portable toilet. Even then, though, they elected to manipulate the stone behind their tents to create windbreaks that extended far beyond their doors. Creating what appeared to be nothing less than lounging and training areas shielded from the winds.


    I decided to give them all their moment of solitude and went into my shelter for mine to take a few notes before I dipped off into my umbral dimension. After descending past my material goods and the Menagerie, I stopped before the Under to take a look at my newest additions. As I expected, the mandrills had yet to show any signs of change. That said, Humphrey was beginning to take on a midnight hue and was even ¡®drinking¡¯ the mana from time to time. Yet, he was nowhere near as complete as Tao. The panther''s eyes had taken on a ghostly white hue and he was now swimming through the darkness with little difficulty. Which meant to me that the deciding factor was most likely physical size.


    With my notes taken, I dropped through my gate and settled on my throne to wait for the cloudy mass to aggregate into a talking spirit.


    ¡°Amun!¡± Azrael spread his arms in cheer. ¡°Didn¡¯t think I¡¯d see you again so soon.¡±


    ¡°I told you.¡± I grinned. ¡°We¡¯ll be seeing each other a lot from now on. Although.¡± I sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know how often I¡¯ll be able to visit while I''m at the academy.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± He waved it aside. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t worry about that. The Bodhi Tree is the most relaxed place I¡¯ve ever been to. Besides the middle of nowhere.¡± He chuckled.


    ¡°That¡¯s one of the things I want to talk about,¡± I said. ¡°The Bodhi Tree, Divine Trees, and Classes. No one seems to talk about them.¡±


    ¡°And for good reason.¡± He nodded reassuringly. ¡°They can explain it far better than I can, but just know there¡¯s a method to the madness. Since you''re already going there, though, I¡¯ll tell you a little bit.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± I smiled.


    ¡°You should know that the Bodhi Tree is a Divine Tree, grown from a seed that fell from a Tree of Life,¡± Azrael explained. ¡°The Bodhi is the largest and oldest Divine Tree in existence. That we know of, at least.¡± He belatedly added. "Essentially, eating the fruit of a Divine Tree changes your spiritual body. It allows for mutations, you see. Giving you an understanding of how to grow stronger. These ¡®paths¡¯ to power are called Classes.¡±


    ¡°So Wizard and Sorcerer are Classes as well? Would these paths give us new ways to use our sorcery?¡±


    ¡°They are. And yes.¡± Azrael nodded. ¡°What those ways are depends on your Class and Subclasses. As I said before, I was the Shadow Puppeteer. Thus my evolutions were based on making my summons stronger and my puppets more versatile. But you are a blank slate. How you use our sorcery will determine your Class. You are by default a Shadow Necromancer like my father. Thus you can expect to gain the same undying abilities as him as well.¡±


    ¡®So that extends to the void as well.¡¯ I surmised. ¡®I guess I better figure out a way to use it.¡¯


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t spoil all the surprises, though.¡± Azrael continued. ¡°As I said, the staff at the Bodhi Tree can explain it best. And they¡¯ll lay it all out to you upfront.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± I nodded. ¡°In that case, I have another question.¡±


    ¡°Shoot.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s about Trees of Life. And any other special trees that exist.¡± I snorted. ¡°Currently, I¡¯m on the tallest peak of the Epethian Ranges. There¡¯s a¡­ fossilized tree here. It¡¯s been cut in half.¡±


    ¡°A tree?¡± Azrael raised a brow.


    ¡°A big tree,¡± I said. ¡°Far above a thousand kilometers in diameter. And this severed summit is above the clouds.¡±


    ¡°That is big.¡± He muttered.


    ¡°Its roots spread under all of Maru. All the way to the Darkworld.¡±


    Azrael leaned back in response to the name. With a dumb smile and a great gasp of nostalgia, he chimed. ¡°The Dark World, huh? That brings back memories.¡±


    ane. ¡°Yeah, I plan to go one day.¡± I rolled my eyes impatiently. ¡°Have you heard about the tree?¡±


    ¡°Everyone¡¯s heard of Trees of Life.¡± Azrael snorted. ¡°As for the one you¡¯re on, can¡¯t say I¡¯ve ever been. I can say for sure there are such trees in Nonus, Vagua, and Betrarth. But I¡¯ve never heard of one existing in Maru.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± I groaned. ¡°Strange.¡±


    ¡°Very.¡± Azrael concurred with a comical nod. Then went on to mirror my pondering for a few moments. ¡°Hmm. Maybe Grandpa Telman knows.¡± He eventually shrugged.


    ¡°Telman,¡± I muttered back.


    ¡°My Dad¡¯s dad.¡± Azrael nodded. ¡°Dad always said he knows of old-world stuff.¡±


    ¡°Old world stuff.¡± I snorted this time. ¡°You mean history?¡±


    ¡°Sure. Sure.¡± He turned on his heels, chuckling as he waved over his shoulder. ¡°Go ahead and call him here. I¡¯ll take my leave. I don¡¯t wanna ruin your first impression.¡±

 90 - Old World Stuff

    ¡°Oh, dear. What has our proud blood been tainted with?¡±


    Despite his disdainful tone, there were equal parts hope and curiosity hidden in his voice. It showed in the welcoming gestures and intrigued smirks that followed his question. Utter contradictions to the wincing eyes and twitching nostrils that¡¯d been staring at me for the several minutes that lasted between his arrival and those first words.


    As things went, Telman Cole was a giant of a man who made Grandpa Lich look like a dwarf in comparison. We had all his features. Only, his hair was slicked back like a lion''s mane and he was dressed modestly. Sporting a button-up shirt, high boots with trousers, and a heavy cloak that was draped behind him like a king¡¯s robes. And for better or for worse, he lacked the amiable goofiness of his immediate descendants. He was like an ancient, battle-hardened version of my father. Only, leagues wiser, based on what I could see. Like a great sage from an ancient time.


    ¡®I doubt I can lie to him.¡¯ I mentally sighed and shrugged off my worries at the same moment. ¡®Whatever. It¡¯s not like he can tell anyone outside the family.¡¯


    "I¡¯m half-drow.¡±


    ¡°Drow.¡± He droned slowly. ¡°So then, the Fae have returned to Maru? Hmm.¡± He turned a bit to the side to stroke his magnificent beard and mutter to himself. ¡°Seems plausible. But then.¡± He turned back to me with a raised brow. ¡°Why would a drow breed with a human? Much less dwell on the surface?¡±


    ¡°The meddling of Gods.¡± I shrugged. ¡°And the Fae have since left Maru. I¡¯m the only one of elven blood here.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± He clasped his hands behind his back with an amused hum. ¡°That you know of, surely¡­¡± His words trailed off.


    ¡°My name is Amun,¡± I said. ¡°Just Amun, according to my mother.¡±


    ¡°Ugh.¡± He groaned. ¡°What else shall be taken from us?¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°It means our Clan is not even a family anymore.¡± He harrumphed. ¡°Now tell me, boy, in what year were you born?¡±


    ¡°Fourteen-seventy-five, to Emeric Cole and Eved, a drow royal from Youtera.¡±


    ¡°And who were you raised by?¡± He intently squinted.


    ¡°My mother, father, and great-grandfather, Everandus Cole.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± He tilted his head to look me over. ¡°You command death as Ev does, yet your personas couldn¡¯t be further apart. I can see you didn¡¯t come here seeking power. So then, what knowledge do you seek, Amun?¡±


    ¡®Quick on the uptake, I like it.'' I grinned. ¡°Well, I¡¯m curious about you. About how you lived and about the state of the world during your time.¡±


    ¡°And?¡± He droned, clearly unconvinced.


    ¡°And.¡± I sighed. ¡°I¡¯m currently on the summit of the tallest mountain in Maru. Where what appears to be a massive tree stump sits.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes.¡± He leaned back. ¡°The Marulean Tree of Life. Dead. What of it?¡±


    ¡°How was it killed?¡±


    ¡°That has been the question since time immemorial.¡± He deflatedly smiled. ¡°Though we still tried to learn, none of my descendants and few; if any, of my predecessors ever learned the truth. If they have they haven''t told us. Our corpses are... locked; scattered, you see. The Crypts run too deep, too dark and deadly, and... empty for some of us. But you, Amun, seem capable of reaching them.¡±


    ¡°The Crypts in Phaegrath? Where my Great-Grandfather was born?¡±


    ¡°Therein lies the entrance, yes.¡± Telman nodded. ¡°Several generations of our family have been born and buried in the Cole Crypt. Including me, in the year nine-eleven. Everandus was the last. From what I understand, he departed from the Crypt shortly after burying me in eleven-naught-nine, when he was around seven. That is not to say the Crypt remains unguarded, however. To outsiders, it¡¯s an impassable dungeon filled with death and darkness. To those possessing our sorcery, it is a repository of wicked knowledge and our ancestral burial grounds."


    ¡°As for my life.¡± Telman sighed. ¡°It was¡­ unremarkable. I spent my existence in the Crypt. In a constant transition between protecting our home and delving deeper into our records. Regrettably.¡± He sighed again. ¡°I could not get far.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°You will learn when you arrive,¡± He said. ¡°Should you make the voyage.¡±


    ¡°I plan to.¡± I nodded. ¡°But first I¡¯m on a bit of a sabbatical.¡±


    ¡°To the Arcane Tree, I presume? You seem about that age.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°A waste of time, according to Granny Raven.¡± Telman huffed. ¡°But then again, it seemed to do Ev some good. He traveled across the realms and returned to the Under to shamelessly brag about his exploits. I trust you will not do the same, Amun?¡±


    Stolen novel; please report.


    I snorted. ¡°I¡¯m not the type to brag or boast.¡±


    ¡°Right." He snorted right back. "You only pry and oppugn.¡±


    ¡°Naturally.¡±


    ¡°Bahah! I like you, Amun. Tell me.¡± He stepped closer. ¡°What is your chosen purpose?¡±


    ¡°To learn and explore the Mortal Plane.¡± I promptly said. ¡°When I return to Maru, I¡¯ll be exploring Phaegrath. And then Ulai. And then Betrarth and wherever else the wind takes me until I wind up with nowhere else to go.¡±


    ¡°And then?¡±


    ¡°And then I¡¯ll wait for the realms to change.¡± I shrugged. ¡°If I don¡¯t change them myself.¡±


    ¡°Spoken like a true devil.¡± He mused. ¡°Very well, I will share with you all that I know.


    ¡°As stated, the Marulean Tree of Life has been dead for eons and has been so for ages before the appearance of the rifts, in year zero. Since that event, no new creatures have been born into existence in Maru. Creatures could only migrate through the rifts or evolve into something greater over time; or a combination of both. Now, again,¡± Telman warned with a raised palm. ¡°My time was an era of relative peace, but it was not without conflict. With the rifts yielding a steady outpour of otherworldly creatures, Ulai was rendered a war zone within days. As a result, many of the ancient Ulaian empires had to take refuge in Phaegrath. During my time, five prominent powers existed, six including the House of Cole. However, we dwelled in the shadows and thus were not recognized as an official power by others.


    ¡°The Poza Kingdom was the wealthiest nation of them all, and were natives to Phaegrath.¡± He explained. ¡°They were a peaceful city-state located on the southern shores. Their tropical region gave them a thriving economy based on agriculture and trade; yet, it was their naval prowess that made them uncontested. They remained the only power to be considered untouchable by the other nations.¡±


    ¡°Even a family of sorcerers?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Our family was not large, though we could have destroyed them, had we a reason.¡± He nodded. ¡°In doing so, however, we would have lost out on the fine goods coming from the region.¡±


    ¡°True.¡±


    ¡°Besides, our most encountered foe; other than invasive creatures, was the Takath Empire. The largest power of them all. Their origins came from a guild that retired from Ulai during the Great Migration. Like many escaping the war-torn region, they took up residence in the heart of the continent. Thereafter, they evolved into a military nation boasting the continent¡¯s mightiest land army. Their army of young souls clashed with the House of Cole on a regular basis.¡± He nostalgically chuckled. ¡°Of course, they were no match for us- my father, grandmother, and I. Such good times.¡± Telman chuckled again before the nostalgia drained from his face. ¡°Ahem. The last of the native Phaegrathean powers was the Silvanians. A clan of sorcerers who pass down the power of silver and runic knowledge just as we pass on the dark arts and ancient knowledge. Unlike the other house of sorcerers native to Maru, the Silvanians were on neutral terms with all peoples, including us. Outside of the occasional trade deal or partnership, we stayed out of each other''s way.¡±


    ¡°The other sorcerers would be the Lux?¡± I rhetorically asked. ¡°Grandpa L- Everandus warned me to be wary of them.¡±


    ¡°As you should.¡± He nodded. ¡°Because of our opposing natures, we gravitate towards one another. But that does not always result in conflict. Some of our kin found themselves coexisting with them as great friends while others saw them as mortal enemies. The times dictate such things, in my opinion. I, however, was lucky to never meet one. They have long since forsaken Maru, you see. They chose instead to conquer Nonus.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± I said. ¡°Please continue."


    ¡°Before I do.¡± He raised a finger. ¡°You should know that the Lux is but a branch of the light¡¯s family tree. They numbered in the thousands, in my time. Their numbers are perhaps even more during yours. Now then.¡± He cleared his spectral throat. ¡°The first empire to take refuge from the destruction in Ulai were the Bonju Tribes. Powerful warrior-nomads who sought to live off the land and offer what they had to whoever needed it most. They were in constant contact with the otherworldly invaders, making them one of the strongest civilizations at the time. In fact, they would¡¯ve been the strongest, if not for their lack of numbers and their open-mindedness. Because of that, they were placed in the lower ranks of the scale. But were no less powerful than any other nation.


    ¡°The last civilization to take refuge in Phaegrath during my time was Amazonia. And they were, by far, the most interesting.¡± He chuckled. ¡°They were a nation of warriors, located on a plateau high in the clouds on the far east side of the continent. As we are considered Devils, the Lux are seen as Angels, and Silvanians are considered Beasts, Amazonians were widely considered to be the perfect human, according to some. In truth, they are descendants of a Goddess of the same name. Her blood grants them super-powered strength and resistance to the elements, including lightning. They see beauty in all things. But in strength most of all. Strength is all that matters to them. As such, they were vicious fighters. And lovers.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I see.¡± I laughed. ¡°You sired a child with one.¡±


    ¡°My mother was Amazonian as well.¡± He smiled. ¡°As was my father¡¯s father. But I must say.¡± He added. ¡°Drow is fine blood to mix with ours as well.¡±


    ¡°What other types of blood are sufficient?¡± I asked. ¡°Out of curiosity, of course.¡±


    ¡°Nothing brutish like an orc or goblin. And no demons either.¡± He huffed. ¡°Hellspawn and Devils of the Under do not mix. Something broad, large, and strong, with a human resemblance. So no dwarves or the other small species. No dragonbornes or the stone creatures from Nonus; although a dragon was a thought I''ve mused over once or twice. A vampire would fit the bill. Granny Raven¡¯s mother was one, after all. Otherwise, any Amazonian or strong human will do.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not much of a choice, but alright.¡± I laughed. ¡°Were there any other nations existing in Maru?¡±


    ¡°There was one across the eastern seas.¡± He nodded. ¡°A small but pompous group who fled to the other side of the realm when the monster and guild population in Phaegrath boomed. They went as far as naming the whole continent after themselves. But they interacted with no one except the Poza Kingdom.¡±


    ¡®Interesting.¡¯ I nodded. ¡°If you¡¯re curious, I¡¯ve seen live Amazonians and I have evidence that the Silvanians continue to thrive in my time. As for me, I grew up wealthy and pampered in your son¡¯s empire. But he quite extensively educated me in the ways of our sorcery, and my father raised me well, with the best education one could get.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± He sighed deeply. ¡°I do not care for the other empires. But, I am happy to hear that the family lives on.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of family,¡± I said. ¡°I plan to talk with all of our ancestors, just as we¡¯re doing now. I¡¯ve already devoted myself to finding their corpses, in due time. So, if you would tell me the name of your father.¡±


    ¡°My father.¡± Telman sighed with a mix of emotions. ¡°He was known to the realms as Captain Darkblood. A notorious pirate. I knew him as Henry Cole. Please.¡± He bowed. ¡°Give him my regards.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡± I bowed in my seat. ¡°And thank you for your wisdom, Telman.¡±


    As I stood, his form began to lose its shape and dissipate across the ground. Leaving nothing but his guttural voice echoing through the abyss. ¡°I shall always heed the call, o¡¯ Sovereign of Death.¡±

 91 - Genesis

    Rather than summon Henry Cole right away, I emerged from my umbral dimension to find a cloth-wrapped bowl of food sitting by my tent. It was promptly reheated and tended to before I settled in for a few hours of meditation to repeat the same dream I''d been experiencing since my birth.


    I stirred from my torpor to hear a wild rattling of wind threatening to tear down my lean-to from the ground up. So I tore it down and took refuge in my chair with a hot plate to cook up a light breakfast and admire the view.


    And what a view it was.


    From this altitude, most of the horizon was shrouded in a perpetual blanket of white. Yet, even then, mushroom caps could be seen peering above the clouds from the most inconceivable distances. The closest of them was due south. Our destination, the Bodhi Tree, appeared as nothing more than a blot on the horizon. Like a dark cloud amongst the perpetual fog surrounding our realm. At a higher elevation, the blanket broke apart to a scattered sky pocked with glimpses into the many realms scattered across the Mortal Plane. Through a combination of gravitational lensing and adjusting the way my eyes perceived light, I could see all the way to the band of rock gas billowing before the Terminal. Vagua was a red rim dominated by a black, red, and gold-hued tree that looked as large as Mercury did from the Venusian cloud tops. Paradise was like a lush ring of archipelagos swamped with vibrant blue waters that went on and on for literal light minutes, with only two singular landmasses breaking up the space. Betrarth, to the west, stretched from the Steam Line to the White Wall and rose from sea level to beyond the bed of clouds. Youtera was much the same. Only, it was on the far side of Tiatus and was separated from the likes of Betrarth and Nonus via a winding ¡®river¡¯ as thick as my arm, even from this distance. And then there was the White Wall.


    Though I had ascended to the edge of the atmosphere, I hadn''t even made it a tenth of the way to the summit. Yet even that height was child''s play when compared to the height Tiatus ascended each day. Enough to place in those realms in its light, I was sure. Regardless, it made for a blissfully still environment in which to enjoy my meal. And after, I got down to business.


    I created a domain of dilated time and went through some aerial combat drills. After dedicating an hour to training unarmed combat, my spearman-ship, and dagger play, I canceled the spell and returned to my chair to smoke and admire the views once more.


    While the rest of the Mortal Plane was a sight to see, I couldn¡¯t help but pay attention to the sprawling landscapes around me as well. To the east, was an unbridled view of the rest of the continent. As the books said, the entirety of it was completely lacking in flora. An untamed sea of dunes, broken apart only by the occasional outcropping or flicker of movement from some man or beast. It stretched on and on to the coasts, thousands of klicks away, wherein a few shrublands or savannas lined the jagged beaches in place of white sands and reefs. Past that, I could see more. The expansive sea and even Rook Island off the coast to the southeast. And beyond the eastern oceans, I could see the wide coast of Phaegrath and the thin strip of green from the voluminous forests on its high coast. And beyond that¡­


    In an effort to turn my mind away from the prize, I turned my eyes away from reality and began looking inward. I began thinking of my few weaknesses in this life. Besides ego, the mental aspect, and my temporarily weak physicality, I became aware of one flaw that was keeping me from realizing my potential as a sorcerer.


    I had no imagination.


    Thus far, my focus had been on using magic according to the nature of its affinity. As far as I was aware, however, magic was about doing the impossible. It was about bringing the imagination into reality using the vehicle that was mana. Even now, however, I knew not how to use it besides making a weapon out of lightning or some type of radiation. But I was at an utter loss as to what I could do with my least used magics: Nuclear and Void. My mind was just too logical to think of something so abstract. So, with nothing else to go on, I decided to go with what I already knew was possible: giving things False Life. Like Grandpa Lich¡¯s Necromentals and Azrael¡¯s spell, I could create ¡®living things¡¯ with or without souls. So I thought long and hard about what I wanted to create before I put it into action.


    I imagined something innocuous, small, and seemingly harmless. Yet terrifyingly devastating to anyone it turned its sights on. Thus I began recalling things I saw from the Menagerie or other creatures I¡¯ve seen or heard of throughout my combined lives and started to mold them into mental shape. Hatchi¡¯s barbed tentacles, Gero¡¯s croak. Jake¡¯s growth capacity. The eyes of the Umbral Iris. Shade Step. Shadow Pocket. The Flames of Moil. Leech Hand. Claws, carapaces, fangs, antennae, ooze. Anything I thought was terrifying, deadly, or both was solidified in my mind and merged with every ounce of Arcana within me. Save a tiny fraction, which was withdrawn and infused into my voice as I chanted. "Eldritch Emergence!"


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    My grimoire appeared at once to flip through its contents to find a blank page and document my new spell while my arcana was guided through my core almost remotely.


    In tune with what I imagined, the majority of the energy was ejected after being attuned to shadows. But the guiding hand allowed a hint of death and twinge of the void to be added to the concoction and even threw in a pair of Rage Souls for good measure.


    Followed by a couple of Aegis Souls to balance it out.


    Within an instant, my Mana Well had been emptied and the eldritch abomination I spawned had condensed into a sort of... carapace-coated jellyfish. Or, more aptly, it was a sphere of roughly textured chitinous plates stacked haphazardly around an amorphous nucleus, forming both armor and a sunshade for the abyssal creature hidden within. Through those stacked plates, it writhed out a pair of stilt-like tendrils to feel its way around my chair, probing and tip-toeing; tip-toeing and probing with the utmost caution.


    Meanwhile, I melted inside. ¡°You¡¯re adorable.¡±


    As if in agreement, it let out a blood-curdling crack of its carapace. Allowing four tendrils to break through and be recoated by the armor to form legs that skitter-scattered up my arm to disappear into my shadow.


    ***


    Roheisa Deapou.


    ***


    ¡°Finally!¡± I sighed, stowing my things away.


    Since our travels began, I hadn¡¯t had much time to document much of anything we¡¯d done. I was thankful we set enough time aside so that I could catch up in my diary, even though that wasn¡¯t our intention. Still, everyone seemed to share my mentality. Just like me and Lucia, they spend hours each day in their tents, going about their hobbies or interest. From what I could see, Jaimess and Edward spent most of their time as I did. Reading or writing in their tents whenever they weren¡¯t eating, sleeping, or enjoying the views. Toril took part in the former as well, albeit to a much lesser extent than the rest of us. Instead, he sat on the twin peaks or sometimes, took to the sky with Amun to train in their magical affinities.


    I thought about joining them on more than one occasion. Ever-increasingly, in fact, though with the academy on the literal horizon. I chose instead to make use of the little free time I had left and took to wandering the plateau.


    ¡°May I ask what you¡¯re writing?¡± I asked, approaching Jaimess.


    He shot his eyes up as if he were startled, then slowly turned back to his paper. ¡°I¡¯m taking inventory.¡± He explained with a flick of his quill towards two stacks of black fabric sitting behind him. ¡°And preparing a shipment.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded, both in admiration and annoyance. ¡°Do you ever write anything else?"


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Like a¡­ logbook. Or something.¡± I awkwardly explained. ¡°About what we¡¯ve seen so far.¡±


    He turned to me at last, gracing me with a raised brow. ¡°You mean a journal?¡±


    ¡°Er. Yes.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I have a journal.¡± He muttered into his books. ¡°No, you may not read it.¡±


    ¡°What, are you searching for ideas?¡± A sudden voice snickered behind me.


    Just as I turned, Amun moved past me and stopped beside the smaller of the packages.


    ¡°I¡¯m only trying to be friendly.¡± I hurriedly turned about once more to face him. ¡°Since we¡¯re partners, it¡¯d be good to get to know each other, right?¡±


    ¡°Whatever you say, Princess.¡± Amun condescendingly snorted. ¡°If you¡¯re bored, watch this.¡±


    I subdued my annoyance and watched him slip a small box into the fabric before he palmed the bundle. Then just stood there with his eyes closed for a long moment. With a sudden influx of mana, space around the parcel began distorting, bending, and warping under a field of crackling and whipping energy until it disappeared before our eyes. And in its place, sat a large clump of steaming snow. Intermixed with twigs and acorns that did not belong to this part of Maru.


    ¡°Was that-¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Amun grinned. ¡°But there are limitations. I¡¯ll let you wonder about what they are to appease your boredom. In the meantime, there are a few things you and Lucia need to think about.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I turned. ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Well, like the others, you and Lucia will be in charge of different facets of the guild. You¡¯ll essentially have your own sub-guilds. Jaimess will be in charge of the diplomatic and administrative side.¡± Amun gestured to him. ¡°Ed¡¯s in charge of engineering. He''s also in charge of Letta and Giorno. And Toril will be in charge of warfare.¡±


    ¡°And what will you be doing?¡± I asked. ¡°What is Jonet in charge of?¡±


    ¡°If I¡¯m not exploring, I¡¯ll be making enchantments or researching. Who knows, honestly?¡± Amun shrugged. Then casually murmured. ¡°And Jonet¡¯s in charge of espionage.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s a spy?!?¡± I gasped.


    Amun shrugged again. ¡°Every leader needs a good spy.¡±


    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s true.¡±


    ¡°Since Lucia is a knight like Toril, it¡¯d be wise for her to take up a specialty role within the military. Based on her affinity, she¡¯d be a perfect fit to command an areal unit. But ultimately it''s up to her. The real question is.¡± He splayed his finger out toward me. ¡°What will you do?¡±


    ¡°Based on what you said, I picture you working as a scout when in the field. In that case.¡± I tapped at my chin. ¡°With Toril in charge of the front lines and Lucia overseeing an elite air unit, I believe I¡¯d be most useful in a support role. My Lava Magic excels at long ranges and has a wide area of effect. And if need be, I can fight up close as well.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled.¡± Amun smiled and began walking off. ¡°Keep in mind, though, these things are subject to change before the guild is fully realized. Also, we¡¯re going to be doing a little recruiting while we¡¯re at the academy. Impress your classmates. Bring those you trust or respect to our side while we¡¯re there. Cause when we come back to Maru, there¡¯ll be no brakes on this train.¡±

 92 - Amber Plains

    ¡°And how long have you been at this¡­ tree?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been five days now.¡± I shrugged. ¡°That was when I asked Telman about it.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± He rocked back. ¡°If you asked my son, then why are you asking me? He was a lot smarter than I was; yet was still a dunce when compared to my ma.¡±


    ¡®Clearly.¡¯ I snorted. ¡°Well, you¡¯re the one who asked where I was. I didn¡¯t even ask you anything.¡±


    ¡°Fair point, mate!¡± Henry Cole buckled forward to slap at his knees, filling my necrotic world with a cacophony of applause and maniacal laughter akin to maddened sailors facing a horrific storm. Like many of my ancestors, he was huge. 1.9 meters tall and built like the trunk of a black tree, back in Deapou. And as Telman implied, he was dressed in the boots, belts, and rags that all but labeled him as a pirate. Including a tri-tipped hat fashioned atop his matted and heavily adorned locks.


    ¡°My name''s Henry, ¡®Captain Darkblood¡¯ Cole!¡± He thumped his fist into his chest, silencing his crowd of shadows. ¡°Was born in eight-eighty-eight. And ever since I could remember, I was fascinated with the sea. I was enamored with it. Or rather, what was beneath it. The largest expanse of perpetual darkness this side of the Shadow Plane.¡± He maniacally grinned. ¡°I became a pirate before I became of age. I lived off the sea and attacked anyone who wronged me. Human or otherwise. I¡¯d return land-side for a few years or decades to have my fun until I took a long halt to raise Tel. Other than that, I was nothing particularly special.¡±


    ¡°You have vampiric blood in you, do you not? That doesn¡¯t warrant special?¡± I asked.


    ¡°To me, no.¡± He laughed. ¡°I was stronger than the average man, but still weak compared to me ma. Our only commonality was our taste for blood. I used our Shadow Sorcery to rule over the seas."


    ¡°I see. I imagine you captured many a creature down in the depths.¡± I grinned at him. ¡°How¡¯d you die?¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡± He cackled. ¡°As for how I died?¡± He paused to scratch at his beard. ¡°Well, I grew old and drowned of course! The only outcome to a life at sea.¡± He cackled again. ¡°That happened in ten-ninety-five. But I¡¯d been terrorizing the seas for some two centuries at that point. My maiden voyage into piracy was at ten years old.¡± He said, dramatically panning his hand to the side. ¡°By using the Wraith Form to alleviate the pressure and by breathing into the darkness, I was able to live on the ocean floor. After a bit of exploring, I came across a goldmine. A graveyard of sunken ships. And with time, it became a mobile fortress.¡±


    ¡°How did your crew breathe, exactly?¡± I incredulously asked. ¡°Or was your Well large enough to keep a spell under constant activation for them?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the best part.¡± He stepped forward with a crazed eye. ¡°There are connections down there. Conduits. Ley lines. Rifts that lead to the Shadow Plane. Those occur naturally in places with deep darkness. But down there, we can make our own. Like in the Darkworld!¡± He added with a wagging hand. ¡°The convergence of the two spaces inside the ship is what provided our air and dispelled our water. My subordinates could hardly see in it.¡± He meekly shrugged. ¡°But it was better than drowning.¡±


    ¡°That is annoying, isn¡¯t it?¡± I sighed. ¡°Having subordinates with no night vision.¡±


    ¡°The biggest inconvenience one could imagine.¡± Henry snorted. ¡°Besides incompetence. Anyway.¡± He waved it all aside. ¡±Tell me of you. I can see you¡¯re a demihuman as well.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m half-drow, and my name is Amun,¡± I explained with a bit of surprise at making it this far without an introduction. ¡°I was born to Emeric Cole and was raised as a royal. Now, I¡¯m on my way to the Bodhi Tree. And I plan to seek out the Cole Crypt upon my return. Among other things.¡±


    ¡°And what do you hope to learn there, Amun?¡±


    ¡°Some ancient history for starters.¡± I shrugged.


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    ¡°I will warn you that it won¡¯t be easy,¡± Henry growled. ¡°Shadow Sorcery alone isn¡¯t enough to reach the Crypts depths. That said.¡± He peered over his feet. ¡°I can see you are of the void. But that will only get you so far still. You will need cunning, wit, intellect, speed, strength, and more if you wish to find your way to its end.¡±


    ¡°I accept the challenge,¡± I growled back.


    ¡°Alright then.¡± He leaned back, smiling wide. ¡°In that case, I have a challenge for you. Find my ship.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s it called, The Black Pearl?¡± I snorted.


    ¡°No.¡± He shook his head. ¡°The Black Box. It should be docked in a trench near the island. I¡¯m sure you can find it.¡±


    "Sounds simple enough. But I¡¯ll warn you and say I plan on exploring much more than the sea. So I¡¯ll be bringing it out of the water from time to time.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s too big to put it on land.¡± He snorted. ¡°Where are you going to put it?¡±


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll wake you up and show you one day.¡± I snorted back.


    ¡°What a tease!¡± Henry cackled. ¡°But alright then. I assume you¡¯ll be summoning my ma next? Give her my regards.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right after I cross this desert. And I¡¯ll be sure to.¡± I smiled. And with another sigh, I was off my throne and swimming back to reality.


    Within a few moments, I was kneeling in my tent, listening to the others tear down their shelters in the mid-morning tempest while my Doppelganger maneuvered around me to mimic their actions.


    ¡°How long do you think it¡¯ll take us to cross?¡± Came Roheisa¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Uh.¡± I slowly turned to her. ¡°A day.¡±


    ¡°Well, Lucia and I were thinking that it¡¯d be nice to camp in the desert for a night or two.¡±


    ¡®Oh God, why?¡¯ I groaned.


    ¡°We still have eight days until the deadline.¡± She pressed on. ¡°We¡¯ll be lounging about somewhere anyway, and-¡±


    ¡°Yeah, fine.¡± I sighed. ¡°Let¡¯s just go.¡±


    I took off before she could say anything. Running at a dead sprint, I vaulted off the edge and plummeted through the clouds like a base jumper, and spawned my Artificial Well to accelerate on a southeastern heading while the others trailed behind me.


    After descending low enough to skim the sea of dunes, the seconds, minutes, and hours seemed to blend into a single, thoughtless moment. The sun rose and began to fall in the sky and eventually, the summit shrank to a large stain on the horizon to our backs. By sundown, we¡¯d made it nearly halfway across the desert. An admirable distance, by my standards. Assuming Roheisa was purposefully slowing us down so she could admire the views and have her camping trip. As for me, I didn''t care much for the desert; unless it was a tundra or something similar. Arid deserts only had rocks, sand, and things buried in the sand that were only interesting on occasion. But I doubted they knew that.


    It was around eight-thirty when she called for us to descend and make camp for the night. While I had other ideas for our desert camping, I held my tongue for the night and allowed her to take charge. The surface was as one would have expected. Covered in rolling dunes of loose sand with the occasional outcropping of stone or dried vegetation. Our camp was within one such outcropping. Placed at the center of three large rocks that were somewhat fenced in by a few bushes.


    I immediately went around the area with gravity magic, compacting the sand beneath us into a solid platform while the princess deposited steel stakes and poles onto Jaimess and Ed and the large tent they were unfolding. With the initial jobs done, I joined Lucia and Toril in amassing some firewood and provisions from our collective storage, then assisted the Princess in setting up the stove before heading outside to install the most important piece of infrastructure.


    The shitter.


    Once done, I did a bit of scrying to gaze upon the site. Our tent was a round space large enough for the six of us to gather around a wood stove with seven small alcoves attached radially, one for the entrance and the others for our foxholes. Some of which already had denizens lying within. Thus I had around four hours to kill. So I took to the sky to do a bit of training.


    ---


    Come morning, I awoke to Roheisa and Lucia whipping up a veritable feast. According to them, I was so we wouldn¡¯t have to stop for lunch in a few hours. But with the time left until the meal was done and the fact that nature would inevitably call, I couldn¡¯t help but feel that it was an excuse for us to stay here longer.


    I, however, wanted nothing more than to get out of this desert already. The drab sand and lack of flora were almost torturous. So I impatiently waited until the food was done and wolfed down my meal the moment it was served. Then lounged about some more in an attempt to give our food time to digest before taking flight. After nearly an hour had gone by, however, I noticed a small change within our tent.


    It was a subtle rumbling that permeated the ground itself. As the seconds passed, it grew to a strong tremor and began rattling the pots atop the stove. Pebbles began to skitter across the ground. And soon, the entire tent began to shake. As one, we all exchanged a mix of expressions before rising and filing out of the tent. All the while, the tremors continued. Rising in pitch and intensity until a proper earthquake was upon us. Shaking the ground with an ever-greater magnitude until its crescendo came in the form of a leviathan¡¯s roar that detonated an earth-shattering explosion. The dunes around us were ripped asunder, collapsed, and imploded into a wall of sand and jagged spires rising into the blue sky.

 93 - Sand Worm

    Whatever the fuck this beast was opened up a wide sinkhole beneath our camp. Breaking our sandstone foundation into a cloud of pebbles and chunks that loosely supported the tent floating above it. I watched it all in my slowed perception of time.


    And I acted.


    While the others retreated into the sky with their weapons half-drawn, I stood within my domains to take note of the smooth ridges repeating down the dank cave that appeared and continued below us for what looked like hundreds of meters. Seeing it reminded me of only one thing. One absurdly large and disgusting thing. So I spawned an Artificial Well to pull our immediate environment up and out of the maw of the colossal worm to watch it gracefully arc over the sand sea from a safe distance.


    Once in the clear, everyone sheathed their weapons and went to watch the worm squirm through the dunes in circles while I sent the debris raining back down and sorted through our gear. Where, to not much surprise, I found a little visitor orbiting helplessly around the stove. A small, black scorpion.


    I captured it with a grin and turned to see the others peering down at the worm, muttering to themselves.


    ¡°Should we kill it?¡± I heard the Princess ask. ¡°It¡¯s a potential danger to any travelers.¡±


    ¡°What travelers?¡± Toril laughed. ¡°We haven¡¯t seen a soul since we started crossing the mountain.¡±


    ¡°Most people would go by ship.¡± Ed casually pointed out.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see the point either.¡± Jaimess chimed in. ¡°This creature may be a vital part of this desert ecosystem. Killing it may do more harm than good. And you never know what kind of creature its presence keeps away.¡±


    Following that, they all turned to me with raised brows.


    ¡°Do what you want.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna kill it.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± She nodded, looked down to the surface, then back to me and the others before she took off to the southeast.


    ¡®Desert adventure over, I guess.¡¯ I fell after her with a snort. In hindsight, though, I couldn''t exactly blame her. The journey to Rook Island was not only a long one but a boring one as well. She and the others saw no combat outside of a few hunting trips and training sessions. And the animals I faced were nothing more than ordinary creatures. Even the humans and their scarce use of magic were lacking. Perhaps, I assumed, it was different on the other continents, but this journey convinced me that Maruleans were weak. And it was all because of the birdcage draped over Ulai centuries ago. The Tree of Life was dead, and the only thing capable of bringing new life into this realm was blockaded, which made for no challenge here. Not for me, my companions, or anyone with a modicum of power. Even the worm wouldn¡¯t have been a challenge to any of us. Nor would anything less than those of the Guild Association. But individuals among that tier, I assumed, were few and far between in this realm.


    ¡®Strongest in the world?¡¯ I pondered. ¡®Or, the strongest in this world?¡¯


    ''Both,'' I eventually concluded. ''I doubt both.''


    It was clear that Telin had many trials planned for me. Based on his words, my handouts would soon run dry, and I¡¯d face endless challenges, tasks, and tests to prove to him and the other Eternals that I deserved a place at their side. However, I¡¯d long since decided I didn¡¯t want a spot in the proverbial Mount Olympus. At the very least, I wanted to retain the knowledge, experiences, and memories I spent so long cultivating. At most, I only cared to customize my appearance in the next universe I¡¯d be born into. With that in mind, I didn¡¯t see a reason to plan for whatever fate or destiny Telin had in store for me aside from ensuring my subordinates could survive the game of survival. Instead, I spent the flight across the desert using the mental map of the Plane I created at the summit to plan out a route to answer and accomplish the many questions and ambitions burning within my mind and heart.


    And it all started in Maru.


    After finding the Cole Crypt, a large chunk of history would have then been uncovered to me. Furthermore, my Guild would have undergone at least one test deployment and would be ready to breach Ulai and handle the portals. After that, I planned to develop my allies into an Empire if one hadn''t already been formed. My Guild would then grow into a proper military grow and my subordinates would create their own subsidiary guilds. And then the grandest expedition in history would begin.


    Our period of peacetime would end with our departure to Betrarth. As the weakest of all the realms, yet one populated with countless orcs, goblins, and other creatures, it was the obvious choice for a full-on expedition. After establishing a foothold in the verdant lands closest to us, we¡¯d cut north and turn south to explore the western coast before heading toward the center, where that vast Tree of Life was seen. And after that, it was south through the Steam Line and into Vagua. Even with enchantments, however, I was confident that not all of us would explore the Inner Reaches. The environment aside, it was said to be home to powerful demon families and vampire clans. And the environment only got more volatile the closer we¡¯d get to Gray Terminus.


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    As for Youtera, I felt it¡¯d be appropriate to enter the land after my journey to the sun. While my mother did say I¡¯d be fetched to be taught mana forging when I ''matured as an elf,'' she never specified what age that was and if it''d be affected by my human blood. Regardless if there was, I lived on my own terms. I wasn¡¯t one to go chasing whoever appeared before my eyes with promises of a higher power. And I certainly wasn¡¯t going to go along with Telin¡¯s whims like the rest of the elves. If I didn¡¯t learn the art myself, I decided I¡¯d pull up in Youtera when I felt it right. And once my business there was done, I¡¯d climb the White Wall and make the final voyage to Egedil. But by then, I would hope I found out what happened to that vast realm of galaxies I saw in Telin''s palm. And I assumed that we¡¯d all be dead.


    Or rather, undead. Including me.


    ¡®But then what?¡¯ I asked myself. ''What will you do if Tiatus is among the last generation stars? If there is nothing in this universe except the void; you?"


    If what Roheisa said was true, I assumed I could explore the realm of the gods. Or bring them here, to the Mortal Plane, to challenge them, god-to-unproven eternal god. Given that and what Telin said, it was also safe to presume I would become enemies in the eyes of many of them. But even then, their defeat would put me back to square one.


    I supposed I could take my place among them as the God of... something. Or create my own infinite space for my people to thrive in. But even that came with the threat of endless boredom. While a part of me knew that the endless possibilities of life made it pointless to think about such far-off things, my mind still churned until nightfall. Perhaps only to burn the day by, if not to truly find a reason to live on in this world indefinitely.


    Regardless, we halted two hours before midnight. I promptly captured everyone¡¯s attention by withdrawing my and Roheisa¡¯s ships from my Shadow Pocket and giving them both a flick of gravity mana, imbuing them with just enough energy to make them buoyant in the atmosphere like the floating cities of Venus. With that done, I attached a magnetic tether between the vessels before boarding my own. Then, I peered over the railings to motion the others aboard.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said once everyone came to a shaky landing. ¡°I only need a little concentration to keep these ships floating. I won¡¯t be able to meditate until we come to a landing. But once the engines are primed, we¡¯ll be able to travel through the night in luxury.¡±


    ¡°Will you be alright, staying up all night?¡± Roheisa asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m nocturnal by nature.¡± I smiled at her. ¡°We¡¯ll be at the coast by morning and I¡¯ll be able to sleep then. Ed.¡± I threw my chin at him. ¡°If you can prime the drives, we can get underway.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± He quickly nodded, then trotted off to the aft end with force magic gathered in his palms. After dumping the energy into the enchantments, he flew over to Roheisa¡¯s vessel and repeated the process before flying back to lounge about in the salon next to Roheisa, sprawled out on the deck, staring up at the sky.


    After a few more words, the others retreated below deck for the night while I accelerated the ships up to cruising speed, then pulled out my Annals to begin scribbling away and answering Roheisa¡¯s off-handed questions for the next several hours.


    We talked about a mix of things; me, her, and Ed. Titles. Classes. Evolution. Guilds. And more mundane things as well. Our favorite snacks, foods, or colors. As well as deeper topics. About Sorcerers, Witches, and Wizards. Devils and Demons. The Hells and the Under. Of Nonus and the other realms.


    By two in the morning, Ed drifted off to sleep and Toril, Jaimess, and Lucia awoke another two hours later to join in on the small talk while whipping up some breakfast. We talked more about dreams and ambitions until the sun rose above the Plane to saturate the gray wash before us with the blues and beiges and grays of the southern coastline. Not to mention our destination, Rook Island, sitting beyond it in a pocket of swirling, foamy seas.


    With our goal in sight, Roheisa and I decided to use our combined magic to dash madly to the finish. With my Artificial Well pulling on the vessels in tandem with her Attraction spell, we arced over the steep shores at breakneck speeds and crashed onto the waters like a pair of meteors.


    I sighed in relief after canceling the spell and relaxed in my seat for a long moment. Though the mana taken from my Well was negligible. Weakening the gravitational pull of so much mass required considerably more focus than maintaining the domains surrounding me at all times. And it wasn¡¯t as if I could keep those spells active in my sleep either. That, I assumed, was what enchantments were for. And that assumption only made me all the more eager to learn the art in the near future. Before that came, however, I had to get through the final trial set by the Guild Association: Seven days of waiting.


    I was confident I¡¯d be bored within a few days sitting idly at sea. Even with a schedule filled with training, experimenting, overseeing the Menagerie¡¯s development, and communing with my ancestors, I figured the anticipation of the adventures ahead would leave me unable to meditate or sleep for days on end and that time would crawl by at a snail''s pace. But only because I wanted it to. I could¡¯ve dilated time and made the days pass by in seconds. But instead, I resolved to enjoy this time to my heart¡¯s content, for my plans didn¡¯t allow for another long period of carefree rest for at least a year. Maybe more.


    And our trials wouldn¡¯t be over for at least a few centuries.

 94 - Raven

    After hours upon days of relaxing, training, and experimenting, the deadline imposed by the Guild Association finally came upon us.


    In that time, all of the troops I¡¯d captured over the last week had made the transition. Including Humphrey, who, despite his willingness, changed after the scorpion and small crab I¡¯d captured only days ago. All but answering the mystery behind the spell. That aside, Ed made jet boards for Roheisa and Lucia shortly after we arrived and they¡¯d been riding ever since. With Toril spending days training, only Jaimess seemed to be as bored as I was. When he wasn¡¯t cooking or swimming, he was found on deck, reading through book after book with an implicit gaze while the sun bobbed up and down across the Plane.


    That wasn¡¯t to say I was completely bored, however. I¡¯d gained a great deal of insight into how my ancestors lived during their time and, more importantly, the state of the world back then. All that was left to do was to meet the last ancestor accessible to me at this time, Henry Cole¡¯s mother. And while he never gave me a name, I had a strong inclination as to who she was. So I made my way to my Necro Throne and repeated the name in my head.


    Within a few seconds of focusing, I felt my mana drain in a way that I never felt before. Almost as if a mass of necrotic arcana was taken from my core and used to summon¡­ something. I leaned forward to scan the infinite expanse before me, only for the soft pitter-pattering of flesh slapping against stone to echo behind me.


    ¡°Greetings, fellow Sovereign of Death.¡± A regal voice echoed just as a towering woman rounded my throne. She was just over two meters in height and, unlike my other forefathers, her skin was made of living flesh. Albeit in the same ashen-gray tone as the others. She wore a blouse and hood made entirely of feathers that shrouded her body and face in an all-too-familiar way.


    So much so that I recognized it in an instant.


    ¡°I am Corvus of the Cole Clan¡¯s nineteenth generation.¡± She bowed, paused for a long second, and then stood to reveal a fanged grin. "Known by the realms as the Raven Reaper. Cleric of the Night Mistress. Druid. Of feathers."


    ¡°It is my pleasure.¡± I bowed in my seat. ¡°I am Amun of the Cole Clan¡¯s twenty-fifth generation.¡±


    ¡°Your ears.¡± She blankly blinked.


    ¡°My mother is Drow.¡±


    ¡°Drow.¡± She tapped a long nail under her smile. ¡°I¡¯ve had the pleasure of meeting a few. They were¡­ tenacious. Passionate. Intelligent. Powerful. I¡¯ve never known them to breed with humans. Tell me.¡± She leaned forward. ¡°What was her station?¡±


    ¡°I was told she¡¯s something akin to royalty.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Her name is Eved.¡±


    ¡°A royal by our standards.¡± She shook her head, giggling knowingly. ¡°Drow have no such thing. Only a house of rich blood and high priestesses. Your Eved is one, perhaps both. But enough of her, for what reason did you call for me, child?¡±


    ¡°I seek information,¡± I stated simply. ¡°Mostly about our Clan. About our history. Insight as to how to use our sorcery and from what lands we originate. And.¡± I pointed to her. ¡°About you.¡±


    ¡°I fear much of that information has been lost to time.¡± Corvus sighed deeply. ¡°Like you, I have communed with our ancestors in search of the truth. My limit was a member of the thirteenth generation. A man who went by the name of Nigel. Through him, I learned of the crusades launched against our people long ago, during the third century. In his day, our clan was slaughtered and driven into hiding. The land they were driven to would later become the Cole Crypt, and it would be where Nigel¡¯s descendants would live their lives. Attempting to hide from the great nations, churches, and guilds that came to power and spread across Maru.¡±


    As horrible as it was to hear, I couldn¡¯t say I was surprised. It didn¡¯t matter how many numbers we had, even a handful of void, death, or shadow-wielding sorcerers had the power to terrorize an entire continent. Let alone dozens of them. Humans couldn''t exist under such a looming threat for long. Even if it killed them in the process, they would seek to destroy it.


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    ¡°Before my birth in the year six-forty-nine.¡± Corvus continued. ¡°The nations that rose to power had migrated through the rifts. Giving my siblings and I more freedom than the likes of my progenitors. I was born to Rigel Cole, and my father was a vampire named Nostro from the City of Sulfur. Making me a Dhampir. I spent my four centuries of life researching the lost arts of our people in earnest.¡±


    ¡°Necromancy?¡± I asked with a raised brow. To which she cackled wildly like the old hag she was.


    ¡°Child¡¯s play.¡± She waved her clawed hand. ¡°One can¡¯t call themselves a practitioner of death if they cannot raise even a single undead. Why, I used an entire army for landscaping alone. No.¡± She shook her head and finger. ¡°I speak of our mortal allies becoming one with death itself. True Lichdom. And from what I understand. Our Everandus is the one who finalized my research.¡±


    ¡°My Great-Grandfather.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°Seems the selfish, lazy bastard did something right at least!¡± Telman¡¯s voice echoed just before his ghostly form solidified before me. Followed in turn by Henry and Azrael.


    ¡°He never visits me either.¡± Azrael attempted to console his grandfather. To little success.


    ¡°That must make you Evvy¡¯s boy!¡± The latter turned to Azrael with a wide grin. ¡°Nice to meet you, Grandson.¡±


    ¡°I wanted to see them,¡± Corvus giggled to me while they continued exchanging pleasantries.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you had so much control in here.¡± I snorted in disbelief.


    ¡°This place is the same as mine. If a little more drab.¡± She giggled and pointed skyward to one of the many ''stars'' suspended in the sky. ¡°Death is not the end for us, Amun. We have our homes here. And the Under, there.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°Nice to see you again, Grandma.¡± Telman sheepishly bowed.


    ¡°Tel, Henry.¡± She smiled at them both. ¡°I trust you¡¯ve been giving our young Sovereign the knowledge he seeks?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Ma.¡± Henry bowed. ¡°Amun has proven to be good company. He even agreed to find my ship!¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Corvus turned to me with an amused grin. ¡°And what other promises have you made?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve expressed a shared interest with Azrael in capturing a dragon. Other than that.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I plan to find the Cole Crypt and explore the Mortal Plane in its entirety after I return to Maru.¡±


    ¡°Quite the ambitions. However.¡± Corvus grinned. Then gestured to the empty expanse behind her. ¡°How do you plan to do that with no army? Souls will only get you so far, Amun.¡±


    ¡°I have a few wraiths and poltergeists stationed elsewhere,¡± I assured her with raised palms. ¡°But, I¡¯m waiting to encounter a suitable candidate for my first undying shadow.¡±


    ¡°A suitable candidate.¡± She repeated slowly. ¡°Such as?¡±


    ¡°At least something sentient.¡± I shrugged. ¡°As well as something powerful. Perhaps mythical even.¡±


    ¡°Like a minotaur?¡± Azrael chimed in.


    ¡°That would be a suitable candidate, yes.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°But not a human?¡± Corvus concluded.


    ¡°At least not one from Maru,¡± I said. ¡°Everything here is weak.¡±


    ¡°I won''t say your choice is wise or unwise. But I will tell you that you can¡¯t afford to be picky forever. We are the Living Devils who rule this Underworld, Amun.¡± She threw her hands out to the side with a foul sneer. ¡°All devils born within; all the dead who enter these gates, they kneel to us.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± I bowed in my seat. ¡°Once I have my first undead raised, I¡¯ll be raising the rest without discrimination.¡±


    ¡°Save our family, of course.¡± She added, lowering her gaze.


    ¡°Of course.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°Good.¡± She grinned and held her gaze for a long moment.


    ¡°Now then,¡± Corvus finally said. ¡°You implied you were leaving Maru soon. To where are you adventuring?¡±


    ¡°The Bodhi Tree,¡± I said.


    ¡°Ah, yes.¡± She rocked back just as a nostalgic sigh escaped her lips. ¡°There was little that I gained there, besides my evolution. But, I heard times have changed.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes!¡± Azrael sighed in much the same way. ¡°I got absurdly more powerful after graduating from the Bodhi Tree.¡±


    Oh?¡± Telman turned to him. ¡°In what way?¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± Azrael reached up to scratch his head and let out a meek chuckle. ¡°It¡¯ll be best to let Amun here explain once he experiences it. Wouldn¡¯t wanna ruin the surprise for him.¡±


    ¡°Fair point.¡± Telman nodded, then turned to me. ¡°How many days are left until your deadline?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s today.¡± I beamed. ¡°It¡¯s almost sunrise on the outside. So, I¡¯ll probably be on my way once I go back outside.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll leave you with a request as my descendants have done.¡± Corvus beamed back to me. ¡°Never hide your power. Be proud of the fact that you¡¯re a Living Devil of the Under. Show all at the Bodhi Tree that the House of Cole lives on. And when you see the Petrified Fiend, tell him the Raven Reaper will make due on her promise.¡±


    ¡°The Petrified Fiend?¡± I raised my brow in confusion.


    ¡°You¡¯ll understand when you meet him.¡± She winked. Then trotted off to the abyss from which she came. ¡°Until next time, o¡¯ Sovereign of Death.¡±

 95 - Marulean Might

    ¡°No umbrella, Dell?¡±


    As I turned, a streak of lightning arced through the twilight, illuminating the chiseled features of the Arcane Mage¡¯s jovial face, plastered in a glistening film that seemed equal parts water and sweat.


    ¡°I¡¯ve always been a pluviophile, Madam. You know that.¡± I chided.


    ¡°We all are.¡± She turned back to the horizon with a blissful sigh. Though I couldn¡¯t see it, I knew her gaze was canted off to the east. Staring at the landscape of what was. ¡°It¡¯s a shame Gysil couldn¡¯t be here.¡± She sighed again. This time with a noticeable bit of melancholy before she turned her gaze back to the docks.


    ¡°I know what you mean, Madam.¡± I laughed, following her gaze with bolstered eyes, just as hers were. ¡°She¡¯d have loved to meet the little shits for herself.¡±


    Under my enhanced sight, I saw the group of ten Initiates huddled around the barracks. Or rather, the group of seven that was crowded around one while the other two sat and watched.


    ¡°If she had, she wouldn¡¯t be up for promotion.¡± Came the phlegmatic reply.


    ¡°Or, she¡¯d be fawning over those ones.¡± I pointed to the north with a laugh. Where two vessels had been anchored for the last several days. ¡°Giving such extensive reports is unlike her.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± the Madame turned back to the east just as another flash lit up the sky, revealing a satisfactory grin that split her face in two.


    Upon turning in the same direction, I first saw a small glistening object fall from the sky and impact against the shores with a deep thud. Yet, the Arcane Mage¡¯s gaze was focused further to the east, where a trio of unnatural waves were swerving toward the coast. Making choppier seas for the crude vessel powering forward behind them.


    ¡°Finally!¡± I heard the grin in her voice before she turned back with a flair of the hand. ¡°Start her up!¡±


    ¡°Madam!¡± The troops snapped and immediately scrambled to settle into place.


    ¡°Give the order, Dell.¡± She nudged me. Then turned to the construct. ¡°I¡¯ll make the call.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Madam!¡± I giddily approached the sounding horn with a wicked smile. And the antique piece seemed to smile at me in turn.


    Like our forsaken home, it was born from a time when enchantments didn¡¯t exist. A time when Classes, Sigils, Runes, and Words of Power ruled the realm. Like anything from that time, using it made me feel as if I was connecting myself to those ancient times. As if I were channeling power from our ancestors to influence the realm of today. Reaching, though that may have been.


    Regardless, I took in a deep breath and spoke concisely through the mouthpiece. The runes or sigils or whatever it was inscribed on the horn glowed a verdant green in response to my words, and once complete the ivory set beneath my hands began vibrating softly, pushing my words across the seas as if I were speaking through the voice of the Gods. ¡°Attention Pages of the Bodhi Tree! The Bifrost is currently charging and will be online in fifteen minutes. Anyone who is not at the summit at that time will remain on Maru. I say again! The Bifrost will be online in one-five minutes. Be here by then, or remain on Maru! Grandmaster Mage of the Marulean Guild Association, Irini Delloti. Out.¡±


    After pulling away from the horn, I turned toward the Arcane Mage, only to stop halfway after seeing the first of the initiates arrive. And though I realized who it was, at first sight, I still followed protocol and shouted. ¡°State your name!¡±


    He was around 1.75 meters tall and absurdly lean. So much so that there appeared to be no fat on him at all. He wore thin boots and baggy pants tied off with a golden sash. Paired with a long-sleeved shirt that seemed as if it were made for winter. And while his shoulder-length locks obscured his ears, he had all the fine features of the Fey. But unlike any elves I¡¯ve ever seen, he maintained an amiable facade as he stared back at me. Most likely due to the burnbud cigar hanging from his lips.


    ¡°And put that out!¡± I spat.


    ¡°Tch.¡± He spat the cigar onto the floor with a sneer.


    ¡°No-¡± I started. Then stopped after failing to see any litter atop the stone.


    ¡°My name is Amun.¡± He snickered. ¡°I clean up after myself.¡±


    ¡°Well, Amun.¡± I let out a guttural sigh. ¡°Standby for transit.¡±


    He trotted off without saying a word. Choosing instead to focus on the Bifrost, even as the others came up to give me their names.


    As if they were as eager to leave Maru as their companion, the other Deapouans and Odissians arrived in quick succession. The first of them was Toril, O¡¯Connell. A 1.8-meter-tall knight who was broad enough to be mistaken for an Amazonian. He had brown skin, vibrant but aloof blue eyes, and a mohawk of locks tied off on the back of his head. And after giving me his name without issue, he trotted off to Amun¡¯s side to lay down and stare longingly at the storm clouds above. The rest of them behaved in much the same way. Jaimess A. Corey. A tall and lanky young man with a tapered haircut and clothes that seemed more than out of place for his destination. Edward Pascal, a short, pug-faced young man dressed in a one-piece suit with a thick belt. Even Lucia Pike stated her name and trotted off, ignoring my staring subordinates without a word. Almost as if she was accustomed to those gawking at her pale skin and silvery eyes.


    Roheisa Deapou was the only different one among them. She showed so much respect to the Arcane Mage and I that it was almost uncanny. But they, at least, were tame compared to the other groups.


    The brat who¡¯d been plaguing us for the last twenty-eight days stepped forward shortly after Roheisa. As he¡¯d done so many times before, he stepped off a magical plate and strutted up to our noses to interrogate us in front of our subordinates.


    In this case, however, he only whispered. ¡°Why are you asking my name, Dell? It¡¯s me!¡±


    Winston Epeth was a child with sandy-brown skin, dotted with a sea of freckles. His hair was much the same color, a mottled mess of red-brown strands that hung loosely over his brow. He was the prince of an Empire. And acted as arrogantly as one would expect a royal of the only remaining country in Maru to practice the barbaric practices of old.


    But now, he was only a Page.


    ¡°Call me Dell again and you¡¯ll be swimming to the Bodhi Tree!¡± I sneered.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± He jumped back. Then palmed his chest with a wide smile. ¡°Winston Epeth! Prince of the-¡±


    ¡°Noted.¡± I checked off his name and jerked my chin to the side. ¡°Standby for transit.¡±


    ¡°Was that necessary?¡± He whined under the cover of thunder. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to cut me off! That¡¯s rude!¡±


    ¡°Shut up. No one cares.¡± I scowled. And continued scowling as his compatriots shuffled along behind him.


    Like every young Initiate of his social standing, Winston had two vassals sworn into his allegiance. One Willard Rowe, an olive-skinned boy with slicked-back hair; and Issac Galliard, a broad and well-built boy with a tuft of blond at the forefront of his well-combed brown hair. As things went, their attitudes were passed on to the two Epethian Dukes and their vassals, who followed behind Winston and his flock like ducklings. From what I saw, Matthew Reid and his vassal, Edgar Lope were like oil to the fire that was Zeke Smeal and his knight, Quinn Leonhart.


    It was obvious that all that arrogance, youthful exuberance, and inflated sense of power would be concentrated onto the only Initiate among them to have truly ascended in status. Peter Boyd was the only person in Epethia to be freed from slavery after awakening his cores and went on to prove himself worthy of attending the Bodhi Tree; yet, he was still subjected to the tyranny of the powers that once stood over him.


    It was a shame. But what was more shameful than his reluctance to retaliate was seeing the Epethian commoners, Rommy Peak and Mary Lee Farmer, do nothing but watch Peter get beaten and bullied for weeks on end.


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    ¡°It¡¯s an honor to meet you, Grandmaster.¡±


    The pair of voices came without warning. From my right side came an all-too-familiar accent that caused every Amazonian guild official present to break their neck after hearing it. Like them, I turned and saw three young Amazonians standing before me at eye level. A glance at their hands told me that they were sworn sisters. And like Idonea and I; and the Arcane mage and her soon-to-be peer, Gysil Vilignin, they were Warriors from birth.


    ¡°The honor is mine.¡± I smiled at them. ¡°Tell me your names, young Warriors.¡±


    ¡°Teofila Traversini.¡± The tallest of them beat her scarred fist against her chest. She was muscular like Gysil and had the same beige eyes as her as well. Giving me a strong inclination that she possessed the same affinity as the soon-to-be Arcane Mage. The only differences were her round face and the ponytail of straight hair pulled taut against her head.


    ¡°Orsola Estevez.¡± The young Warrior thumped her fist against her bosom in turn. She had a short and thin body and her face was dominated by high cheekbones wrapped tightly with olive skin. Giving her a permanent scowl that synergized nicely with her lithe build and piercing brown eyes.


    ¡°Ale Nicchi.¡± Their sister- brother in the eyes of non-Amazonians- stood over a head taller than me. Massive, even by Amazonian standards. Ale''s shoulders were nearly as wide as a golem''s, making me believe she was part giant and would begin acting as such, were it not for the joyfully benevolent gaze that looked down on the realm.


    ¡°May our ancestors guide you, young Warriors, to greatness. And may the Gods protect you. For Amazonia!¡± I saluted the three of them before gesturing to my side. ¡°Please, standby for transit.¡±


    After the Warriors returned the reply with a salute, they trotted off to an ambiguous corner, prompting a grizzled and cynical voice to cackle at my feet. ¡°Nice to see the Association endorses favoritism.¡±


    Looking down, I saw a particularly stocky dwarf dressed in trousers, boots, and a crude leather vest seemingly made to showcase the glowing tattoos running up his arms, across his chest, and up to his bald head, where the chain-like designs converged around a braided ponytail at the crown like an ancient seal.


    ¡°You¡¯ll find that we all are pleased to see fresh Phaegrathean blood set out to lay claim to the realms as well.¡± I grinned. ¡°You are a survivor of the Bonju Tribes, are you not? And you pray to the God of War?¡±


    ¡°Name¡¯s Bazzric Baal.¡± He spat.


    ¡°Ahah!¡± Fanis laughed with his peers on the sidelines. ¡°He was the one with that shoddy raft!¡±


    ¡°I do not pray to the God of War.¡± He continued with a sneer towards Fanis. ¡°In the name of Sutark, I destroy. And, would ya look at that?¡± He waved towards the coast with a mad cackle. ¡°It''s destroyed.¡±


    ¡°That it is.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Stand by for transit.¡±


    After a long, several minutes, the second-to-last of the Phaegratheans waddled up to me. A seemingly harmless and charmingly small woman, haunched under the weight of a pack that was just as large and twice as round as herself.


    ¡°A halfling.¡± I smiled. ¡°A rarity. Not only for the Bodhi Tree but practically everywhere in Maru.¡±


    ¡°Only because you haven¡¯t looked hard enough, Grandmaster.¡± She whimsically bowed. ¡°My name is Ritrix Mildbluff. And-¡± She recoiled in place as a sudden pulse of foul mana swelled behind us and disappeared in the same instant. Then her words resumed without delay. "Standby for transit." She smiled. "Sure thing, Madame.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± With a long sigh, I turned. And felt the cold shudder running down my body as Amun fell into my line of sight.


    He was standing idly as he was doing before. Surrounded by Roheisa and the other Deapouans. Who were all shouldering rucksacks and bags that they didn¡¯t have before while they stared down at their feet with long faces.


    ¡°It¡¯s like Gysil said.¡± The Arcane Mage approached from behind. ¡°You¡¯ve felt it before, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I thought I could never forget.¡± I shuddered. ¡°But this is nothing like what I felt back then.¡±


    ¡°So, that¡¯s the infamous Shadow of Death?¡±


    Both the Arcane Mage and I spun on our heels after hearing the beastly voice boom behind us. It was a tone and accent we¡¯d heard a million times over. Yet, like the powers of death and darkness, it was a feeling we would never grow accustomed to. Even when their ripples could hardly be felt.


    ¡°Zeke Silva.¡± The giant of a man humbly placed his hand on his chest and bowed at the neck. He was around the same size as Ale. But his presence and voice made the young Warrior look like a child standing defiantly against a giant.


    Like the House of Cole, the Silva Clan was an ancient dynasty of Sorcerers. And like all such Sorcerers, they were largely considered inhuman. Birthed into creation eons before the appearance of the portals. As a Clan, they were famous for retaining arcane and ancient knowledge. But it was their birthright that made them renowned, Silver-based Sorcery. As individuals, however, they were feared for their domineering presence, absurd strength, and unyielding defense. Thus they lived in the high mountains, within the clouds. Leaving their ''citizens'' to prosper or perish under their own power- so long as they assimilated with their culture.


    Zeke was no exception. Even at fifteen, he was nearly 2.5 meters and covered from head to toe in dense bundles of muscle that¡¯d been wrapped in deeply tanned skin. His silver mane was slicked back over his head to allow it to flow down to the small of his back. And it was matched on the front by a braided goatee that danced in the wind as he maintained a fanged grin aimed over our heads.


    ¡°I hope I didn¡¯t take too long.¡± Zeke suddenly, and monotonously turned to look back to the shores. ¡°The path makes for a nice walk.¡± He went on to hold his gaze at the shores. Or the ocean. Or Phaegrath beyond it, before nodding softly to himself. ¡°And the rain makes it all the more nicer.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± The Arcane Mage gave me a look before she turned to face the Initiates.


    Following the cue, I moved along the rim to stand behind my designated construct like the four others and took a moment to size up the curved spire of stone before I turned my attention to the Arcane Mage at my left, settling behind her smaller, podium-sized spire at the center.


    ¡°Welcome, Pages, to Rook Island!¡± Her voice boomed with nearly as much intensity as the horn. ¡°I am Arcane Mage Katia Garaki. And this.¡± She gestured to the sigil-lined floor beneath them with her free hand. ¡°This is the Bifrost. The bridge between realms! Congratulations on traversing this world and arriving at this here summit!¡± She paused again to spread her arms to her sides with a ceremonial flair. ¡°For one thousand years now, the Guild Association has overseen the transfer of the newly Awakened to the Bodhi Tree. Given that you all have completed this pilgrimage, we hope each of you has gained some sense of closure with which to end this chapter of your lives. For, whether you are prepared or not, it is now time for you to leave Maru and take the first step down the path toward Evolution.


    "What you Evolve into will be your choice. For some of you, you may become Barbarians or fighters; or many of you young Knights may decide to become Paladins. Some of you may become Artificers who create; or rogues who steal such creations. Regardless of whether you chose to be a Ranger or a Druid; Witch or Wizard; Monk or Cleric, your journey as a Mystic begins here. At this Summit. And as a Mystic, you have one sacred duty. That duty is to explore the Mortal Plane in search of the Maruleans who migrated through the portals in the centuries following their appearance. In doing so, we pass on the knowledge the Fae blessed us with only a few centuries ago. Knowledge of the Core Annex and Awakening, and all the things we''ve learned regarding Class Evolution. To accomplish this duty, we ally ourselves with like-minded individuals and create Guilds to give us the power needed to venture as far as needed. Out of the thousands of individuals to be assessed this year, the powers that be have determined that the twenty-two of you are the best Maru has to offer for that duty. You are the mightiest in this generation of Maruleans. You are the ones who will take up root in the next Assembly of Guilds and make contact with the forsaken pockets of humanity.


    "But with that comes one thing you must understand." The Arcane Mage paused to lean over her podium and spoke in a grim tone. ¡°From this moment forward, you are royals no longer. You are nobles no longer. Nor are you commoners, peasants, or slaves. You are hereby Pages of the Bodhi Tree! Any title you once had is meaningless and will remain so until you either die, drop out, or graduate. The only titles that hold any merit to those who dwell in our reality are those you create for yourselves going forward. Your titles and your reputations will be forged through meritorious service in the name of progression!


    ¡°So, without further adieu, I ask that you stand within the construct and brace yourselves for transit.¡± She grinned wickedly at the responses of some. And I savored the moment as well.


    After receiving the Arcane Mage¡¯s nod, I sent the gesture down the line and began funneling mana into the construct at my feet just after she did. And so too did my subordinates in turn. With my flow rate stabilized, I turned my attention to Fanis and then to Luna and couldn¡¯t help but smile after seeing the rookies go through the motions with ease. With my worries gone, I cleared my mind and fell into a trance while the construct charged to full capacity. The sigils below us continued absorbing mana and funneling them into the tip of the five curved spires arcing up before us, where the energy condensed and brightened with each passing second. First from its green glow and then on to blue and then a blinding white until the five spires ejected beams of energy that converged directly overhead, condensing into a ball of light like that of the sun; minus the intense heat.


    ¡°For some of you, this marks the conclusion of your admission exam.¡± The Arcane Mage shouted through the rumbling caused by the dense energy. ¡°For the rest of you, this marks the start of your most grueling exam. Regardless, I wish all of you the best of luck.¡±


    With a final smile, she sent a pulse of mana into her construct. Invoking a wave of dense mana to pour from her rune, through each ours and out the spires in the form of a concentrated beam. In an instant, the miniature sun plummeted to come to rest on the summit and swelled in a flash of light. Growing to encompass the Pages before they could even react. It was upon us an instant later, expanding until the ancient stone claw caught it with enough force to nearly push us off our feet. For an endless moment, the five of us fought to stay in place and keep our hold on the ritual while the construct pulsed and pushed against the constructed stone with enough force to quake the entire island. Until, finally, a silent implosion flashed before our eyes.


    The tension and stress on the environment shattered into a million fragments of shimmering light under the force and simultaneously launched the ball of radiance light across the Southern World Sea in an instant.


    Now in a sudden silence, the five of us stared across the impossible distance toward the pinpoint of light on the horizon and held our gaze in place for a moment before tracking our eyes down the stream of particles expanding in their wake like a bridge made of solid light.

 96 - A Warm Welcome

    Peter Boyd.


    ***


    ¡°For the rest of you, this marks the start of your most grueling exam.¡±


    Because of the light and mana oppressing me from all directions, the Arcane Mage¡¯s words were but a whisper in the back of my mind while I backpedaled from the sphere of light growing to swallow us all. At that moment, the summit and all of Maru faded into a distant point on the horizon behind us. It was just us in our ball of light, streaking through the vastness of the World Sea in mere moments. Trapped in a state of silence I¡¯ve never before heard. An inner peace mixed with an overbearing sense of insignificance as I felt the vastness of the realms for the first time in my life.


    I was lost in awe for that endless moment. Then, that awe turned into anxiousness once a streak of land appeared at the end of our road. Though it disappeared as quickly as I saw it, for a flash of light signaled our abrupt halt inside a platform similar to the one at Rook Island. Once I was sure the light faded, I cautiously opened my eyes and began to take a look around before I felt my mouth and nose be blocked by¡­ something. I tried to gasp and only choked and thrashed about as fire being to spread across my skin, granting me the sight of Mary and Rommy looking to be no more than annoyed or slightly pained by the environment. Obviously, the foreigners weren¡¯t bothered in the slightest. And the same went for Winston and his asses. Leaving me to be the only only one struggling. Suffering from both this mana and the Arcane Mage¡¯s words rang through my mind like a bell.


    It took a few moments, but I was finally able to squeeze air into my lungs and regain some focus. While it was still ridiculously painful, I was sure I would survive so long as I wasn¡¯t met with any distractions.


    For whatever reason, there was no one here from the academy to shepherd us across the grounds. There was only a row of cocoon-like lanterns that hung above the fenced-off road we stood on.


    ¡°Welcome to Nonus.¡± A welcoming but sourceless voice echoed from all around us. ¡°I am aware that this environment may be¡­ stimulating, for some of you. But do your best to continue along the road to the grounds.¡±


    I both shook my head and felt relieved when Winston and his asses strutted forward to grasp at the coattails of whoever just spoke, then decided to wait a few moments before starting after them.


    Whoever the voice was seemed relaxed in terms of security. So I felt calm about turning my attention away from any would-be hazards and instead focused on regulating my breath. After nearly ten minutes of walking, it became more bearable and so I began thinking of other ways to distract myself- mostly daydreaming about bashing, cutting, burning, and drowning the sad excuses for rulers skipping along ahead. Such ways of thinking always got me through the worst of things and it¡¯d get me through this. Still, though, every time one scene ended and another began, I could see the increased distance between me and them. I cared not, though. The Deapouans were even farther behind than me and the Phaegratheans were even further behind them. And all of them were admiring the environment with not a care in the realms.


    Besides, the further I got from the Prince, the better.


    After another fifteen minutes, my imagination began to run dry. And so, I too took to looking at the environment to distract myself. Though it soon proved pointless as I could hardly see beyond the lights above our path. Only the outlines and deep shadows belonging to what could only be described as an ancient forest peered through the fog to meet my gaze. Another half an hour passed and I was bored to the bone. With our pace, I¡¯d grown somewhat acclimatized to the environment in terms of breathing. Yet the pain was still there and becoming harder to ignore with my increasing boredom. Forcing my mind to repeatedly ask itself a single question.


    ¡®How much further?¡¯


    Frustrated, I let out a sigh. And soon heard a voice behind me that sounded curiously close to my ear.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to fall over, are you?¡±


    Being both too tired and too focused to be thoroughly surprised, I slowly turned to see a dark-skinned kid wearing strange clothes. Well, they all wore strange clothes. But he wore a long-sleeved black shirt and black pants in the rainforest and had a golden-yellow sash tied around his waist like a belt. From what I could remember, he was the one the other Deapouan and Odissians crowded around. The absent-minded chain smoker. If he noticed the rags I was wearing, he seemed not to care. Making me a little optimistic that these royals were at least different from Epethians. But I stayed on guard all the same. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± I grunted before increasing my pace to match theirs.


    ¡°Okay.¡± He shrugged as if he were fully satisfied with my answer, then turned his attention back to our surroundings as if he¡¯d never even spoken. And more so, his friends did much the same.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± he eventually asked after ten or so minutes of silence.


    ¡°Peter,¡± I hesitantly yet confidently. ¡°Peter Boyd.¡±


    I saw his hardly illuminated head nod as I said my name, then he bowed politely before replying. ¡°My name is Amun.¡±


    My brows wrinkled almost instantly. ¡°Just Amun?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He replied without even a glance my way. ¡°Just Amun.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh,¡± I commented to myself before shrugging. ¡°Strange.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± He- Amun commented to himself while nodding, yet still looked to the trees before another interrupted.


    ¡°I am Roheisa¡­ er.¡± The barbaric girl hesitantly paused to avert her gaze before immediately bringing it back to me. ¡°Roheisa Deapou.¡±


    ¡°The Royal Princess??¡± I recoiled way more than I should¡¯ve. ¡®Of course, she¡¯d be here. Why wouldn¡¯t she be here?¡¯ I began to calm myself and prepare to act more formally before she suddenly replied.


    ¡°Yes.¡± She reluctantly nodded before gesturing around us. ¡°Though, such titles don¡¯t mean much here. You can just call me Roheisa.¡±


    ¡®Yeah.¡¯ I nodded to myself while looking forward to Winston and his groupies.


    ¡°I¡¯m Ed.¡± A boy around my stature said next. He wore a strange one-piece tunic and had a head of short locks like the head of a mop.


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    The one closest to Amun bowed next. The sides of his head were shaved and he seemed angry as he grunted. ¡°Toril.¡± Then looked up into the skies as he was doing before.


    The last one was dressed in formal wear, unlike the others. ¡°My name is Jaimess. It¡¯s a pleasure, Peter.¡±


    Shocked by their friendliness, I remained silent and simply kept walking alongside them. They were acting in a way that was completely contradictory to what I¡¯d heard about Deapou and Odissi. So much so that it made me hard to trust them. Perhaps I was simply being paranoid, but those of us who were thrown in the gutter by the very society that birthed them had to rely on such ways of thinking for survival. But now that I was beyond that society; and more, a Page of the Bodhi Tree, my ways of survival were bound to change for the better.


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    I was surprised the Guild Association didn¡¯t accompany us to this land. Then found myself shocked to find no one here to greet us. Only a disembodied voice that seemed to come from the trees themselves gave us any guidance. A subtle method to gauge our integrity, I presumed. Or to see how well we would survive in this much mana.


    While I personally felt it¡¯d be faster to simply fly there, I didn¡¯t complain in the face of a new environment. That, and I didn¡¯t want to show off. But I digress. This land was¡­ vast, to say the least. Even the smallest trees dwarfed the mightiest of their cousins back home. Mere plants were the size of houses, and some grasses rose to half my height and width. Nonus was truly magnificent. A realm of power itself. What I saw made me liken it to the Earth if she hadn¡¯t faced multiple mass extinctions across her 4.5 billion-year history. If the Earth retained its high concentration of oxygen whilst having no ice ages, asteroid impacts, and; most of all, humans ruining its surface, Nonus is what I assumed it¡¯d be like. It was a goldmine to not only my eyes but the rest of us and those behind us as well. Those ahead of me, however, were much unhappier with the situation. While they were eagerly powering ahead, I could hear them whispering amongst themselves about how hungry they were or how hot it was. About how they¡¯ve seen no one from the academy. About the length of the road. The lack of a method of travel other than walking. And on and on. No inconvenience was spared from the seven of their lips.


    Among those seven were four who acted independently enough to make me think two of them were nobles in their own right, each with their own vassals. Though, the taller one was clearly the highest of them, seeing as he had two at his sides. The Prince of Epethia. Besides them, there was a couple that walked a fair distance behind them. A plain-looking girl and a guy who appeared to be sick with the mask over his nose. Commoners, I assumed, that wanted nothing to do with Peter or the spoiled kids ahead of them. On the contrary, the Phaegratheans behind us were an odd mix. I¡¯ve heard of Silver City, but I knew nothing about it other than its name. Grandpa Lich nor anyone else ever mentioned any current-day kingdoms in Phaegrath. Yet one of the Association members mentioned the dwarf being a surviving member of the Bonju Tribes. A destroyer for the God of War. Who called out the Grandmaster¡¯s favoritism towards the three Amazonians. Warriors, she called them with much emphasis. And then there was the giant among them. Zeke Silva. While I could feel no magic coming from him, I could tell he was not only powerful but built different. He felt¡­ beastly, if not monstrous. Not only due to his size and the tone of his voice but in the aura he gave off just before he landed. It was similar to the aura of fear that exuded from me when I used my sorcery.


    Out of them all, he was by far the most interesting. But I found Peter to be tremendously interesting as well. Albeit in another way. He was clearly struggling under the ambient energy. Compared to Maru¡¯s gaseous-liquid mana, the mana here was around a couple of levels above the ice threshold. It both looked and felt like a fragile solid permeating space. Breaking apart only as we moved within it. Outside of that, Peter seemed kind of¡­ timid. Though, I felt that wasn¡¯t the right word to describe him. It was more as if he was constantly on guard. From that and his repeated scowls at the seven individuals ahead, it was easy to guess his mental state. The kid was clearly traumatized, resentful, and thus volatile. His being granted new power only increased his instability. He was a ticking bomb, and I didn¡¯t want to be around to see it blow.


    That said, there was an opportunity to be found. Making him stronger would be easy. Increasing his intellect, however, would prove to be far more productive. In doing so, a foundation of trust would be laid. And with that, comes an ally on my part. And on his part, subtle guidance away from the more irrational choices he was likely to make in the future. Even then, though, increasing his strength depended on his aptitude. If he proved to have potential, then he¡¯d eventually become another cog in the machine. For now, at least, I decided to leave him until he warmed up and turned my attention back to the greatest thing to happen thus far in this life.


    I was finally walking on Nonus. And it wasn¡¯t disappointing in the slightest.


    Most notable was the extensive flora surrounding us in all directions. While the strange cocoons only provided the humans with enough light to see the road. The shadows and dark fog beyond contained a vast arrangement of flowering plants or trees bearing exotic fruits. Fruits that the overgrown fauna unhurriedly foraged for while we walked. The strangest thing of all, though, was the surface on which we walked. Only a few of us seemed to notice; not surprising, considering the conditions. But our path was devoid of any plant life. Not even the smallest patch of moss blemished the glossy, grained surface that shined under the gentle light from above. We were walking on a surface root of the Bodhi Tree, I believed. And strongly, for nothing but such a tree would siphon a stream of mana from my foot- from all of our feet. It was subtle, but there. A small trickle of energy from my Well went into the roots to be whisked away up the small hill further up our path.


    After cresting it, we descended into a clearing that gave unimpeded views of our destination. Views that I stared at wide-eyed in dumbfounded awe. About three hundred meters ahead, the path went on a gentle slope upward to merge with similar paths that came from the flanks to create village-sized pockets in between. Meadows, quayed lakes, stone platforms, recreation courts, and a number of other facilities filled them. Regardless of what they held, though, many of them were walled on most sides by the towering roots. Mini-mall-sized roots. They continued ahead even after that, aggregating and rising to a near-vertical incline as they met the mountainous trunk of what appeared to be a monstrously large fig tree. Its blooming branches stretched well above the clouds and its roots, I assumed, possibly dug the impossible distance to the Darkworld.


    It was undoubtedly smaller than the Marulean Tree of Life, though. Not only that, but they seemed to be entirely different species of tree altogether. Beneath the mountain that formed around it, the Marulean Tree was a solid trunk like a birch. This one, on the other hand, had an uneven surface that appeared like arterial veins were bulging forth from the bark. It was undoubtedly a fruit tree. Which made my mind start spinning with hypotheses.


    It first made me think of the many mythological trees from human history. The Tree of Life and Death. Known as the World Tree in just one of many languages, cultures, religions, and mythologies of Earth. But also known as Etz Hayim. Jianmu. The Oak. Yggdrasil. Irminsul- all names to describe the same thing; one of the most ancient of all living creatures- Trees. One that grew so large that its roots stretched to the underworld and its canopy brushed the heavens. A tree that, in some cultures, not only created life but granted immortality; or caused mortals to ascend to godhood.


    As the legends of this universe stated, such a thing existed. But there was one for each of the realms. All on the same Mortal Plane. Separated from one another by interplanetary distances. And then there was the other tree from terrestrial mythology. The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Interpretations and my opinions aside, it was agreed that eating its fruit is what brought humanity to its current state of suffering. We were banned from the Garden of Eden and denied access to the Tree of Life. Or something like that. It was clear to me that what sat before us now was this universe''s version of such a tree. A Tree of Knowledge. Only, we¡¯d receive knowledge of Class Evolution. Not that such a distinction made it any different than the legends of Earth, I soon realized, as the knowledge we¡¯d gain here at the Bodhi Tree would give us the choice to venture down paths others would deem good or evil.


    Or rather, good and evil.

 97 - Love Magus

    With my awe overcame and my bearings caught, the realization that the others had been following arrows of bioluminescent moss was made apparent. They were practically skipping toward the large double doors set into the base of the roots. And for once, I had to fight against the impulse to skip after them. An all-too-familiar sensation washed over me the moment I crossed the threshold. My domain spells of gravitation and spatial magic both canceled in ways similar to the rings the Guild Association used. Something almost... attacked the spells; or perhaps the energies the mana was attuned with, dispersing it to meld with the ambiance.


    I wiped the shock from my face and caught up before I fell too far behind them. Down a short flight of steps, the path opened up into a wide and expansive corridor of ash-white stone that seemed a little too large for how it looked from the outside. It was well over ten meters wide, permitting relatively large groups or even wagons to pass through the halls without imposing on anyone else. Seamless doors, alcoves, and stairwells broke the hall apart every few meters and highlighted to passersby via unseen enchantments that radiated the light of dusk.


    At the end of the maze, we eventually arrived in an auditorium full of dozens upon dozens of individuals of a surprisingly wide range of species. Eager to study them from afar, I quickly found a seat near the back to gauge my future classmates. From a glance, I counted around fifty, including us. Among them were the obligatory humans, dwarves, and halflings. But there was a slew of green and red-hued individuals; some with scales, some without. One had feathers and wings. Others had long and sharp tusks jutting out of their lips. There was even an elf I managed to spot. And the humans seemed to be a wide range of eye, skin, and hair colors than I¡¯d seen in quite some time.


    After only a few minutes of us silently scanning the crowd, an absurdly tall man with dark red-brown skin and curled horns waltzed on stage with five others trailing behind his back. His long robes were colored brown and green and seemed to be made from the finest silks adorned with many jewels as possible with the way it elegantly flowed behind him, scattering light amongst the crowd of eager students.


    ¡°Welcome Pages, to the Bodhi Tree of Arcane Knowledge.¡± He gave a gentle smile once his booming voice calmed down. ¡°I am both the groundskeeper of the Bodhi Tree Peninsula and your Headmaster.  Zorrenor Knagh, the Magus of Love.¡± He paused at the most auspicious moment to allow the inevitable snickers to echo across the room. Particularly from a few rows in front of us and nowhere else. Making it easy to pinpoint the origin of the echoing hecklers. I know for a fact he heard it. Everyone did, and they all followed his amiable eyes to the Epethian nobles quickly quelling their giggles. Even then, though, the headmaster simply smiled and stared at them like they¡¯d given him a round of applause instead of laughing at him. Then turned to continue as if he wasn¡¯t just interrupted.


    ¡°First.¡± He beamed. ¡°I want to congratulate each of you for arriving safely at the Bodhi Tree. Here, you will take the next step in becoming evolved mystics. I am sure you all are eager to make the first steps. But before that, comes orientation. And before that, I must share with you the Bodhi Tree¡¯s history and its mission statement. And, I will give a short explanation of what to expect during your time here. At its heart.¡± The Headmaster pointed a clawed finger to the ceiling above. ¡°The Bodhi Tree is a Tree of Knowledge, known to the realms as a Divine Tree. I discovered this particular tree in the Second Century. After a... tumultuous start, many of the sentient species agreed to compile our knowledge and use this tree as a hub, of sorts. It was decided that the Bodhi Tree would be where prominent youths from all the realms could come and learn the secrets of might and magic.


    ¡°Since the year four-ninety-one.¡± He continued. ¡°The Bodhi Tree¡¯s mission has been to train Pages and guide them through the ritual to bear the fruit of their labors, all so they can travel across the realms and reconnect with the forsaken societies who ventured through the portals over a millennia ago and impart the knowledge you are here to receive. That is our mission, yes.¡± He took an almost nostalgic sigh as he paused. ¡°Yet, it is also our mission to only guide you. What you study within these halls and what you do beyond them is your choice, young Pages. Always remember that.


    "Now then. Onto the knowledge you will be obtaining: Class Evolution. It is a power that lies dormant in all sentient creatures and awakens only when one consumes the fruit spawned by a Tree of Knowledge. However.¡± His lips curled back into a fanged grin. ¡°One cannot simply eat any fruit from the tree. Some of you may have noticed it already, the trickle of mana the Tree siphons from you. That is but a simple portion of the formula, the nourishment for the ripening of your unique fruit. Like all fruits, pollination comes first. That will be done at the close of our orientation. You will drink the sap of the Tree of Knowledge!¡± He declared. ¡°And then your studies will begin in earnest.


    "During this first year, you will be trained in the basics of everything in the hopes that you may have the widest range of classes available. You will study martial and magical theories and put them into practice. You will learn of the different realms and study the creatures found there. You will go through introductory courses in alchemy, crafting, and healing. And you will learn about and decide what Class you wish to choose throughout the course of this year. At its end, your fruit will mature and upon eating it, your spiritual bodies will go through significant changes. You will gain an influence on mana that you never had before. In rare cases, your body may even change. This.¡± He smiled. ¡°Is Class Evolution. As the name suggests, it involves following one or more paths that will grant you ways to use mana that you never had before. Your second year will be dedicated to venturing down those paths as much as you can. And in your third year, you will gain practice with both your new abilities and guild operations as you shadow a prominent guild.


    ¡°Finally.¡± He spread his arms in closure. ¡°The best and brightest students will be given the privilege of attending the Guild Master Course from either the Nonusian or Marulean Guild Association. After graduating from that course, you will be given an automatic promotion to Master Mystic and will receive a few prizes to aid in the creation of your guild. Including but not limited to a Divine Tree Seed.¡±


    ¡®And there it is.¡¯ I grinned to myself. While I already knew about the course, learning about the reward made me all the more excited. And then there was the nature of Classes. I knew more than the average due to my conversations with Telin and my ancestors. But I had no idea it involved such a lengthy process and extensive rituals. Not to say that was offputting, however. On the contrary, the talk of fruits and trees and seeds and evolutions made me just as excited as the majority of my classmates. And all the more impatient when the Headmaster continued.


    ¡°As first-year students, you are considered ¡®Seeds.¡¯ You will live and go about your classes here, in the roots.¡± He gestured beyond the room, then turned to face us with a warm smile. ¡°As Seeds, the political or social standing you had where you came from is inexistent. Here, your worth is determined only by points. And points are your currency. They are gained by excelling, and they are used to purchase materials and equipment throughout your time on this Peninsula. However.¡± He bowed in closure. ¡°It is late. So I will close by declaring that tonight marks the start of the weekend. Though, you will not exactly be off. Upon our dismissal, you will be divided into your parties and squads, receive your uniforms, and be free to eat and bed down for the night. Tomorrow will mark the beginning of our orientation period. You will be given a tour of the grounds and learn the rules and customs of the Bodhi Tree. Additionally, you will be given time to get to know your peers and enjoy yourselves. Orientation will conclude with a formal dinner and the Divine Tree Ritual, on the night of the following day.


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    ¡°Now.¡± He clapped loudly, prompting the mangled ceiling to untwine and reach tendril-like vines down to drop a single leaf onto our laps. ¡°At this time.¡± He gestured to three of the five who followed him on stage, now standing on the edge of the dais to the left, right, and center. ¡°Please gather before your homeroom teachers.¡±


    The assumedly partially dwarven, red-haired woman on the left abruptly pointed to the ground first. ¡°I am Olga Godzuik, teacher of A-Party. To its members, stand right here.¡±


    I took a glance at my leaf to see the ¡®C¡¯ written on the surface in the same bioluminescent material as the arrows from earlier and attempted to study it further, But was distracted by Toril, Lucia, and Roheisa rising from the stands.


    ¡°Well.¡± The latter sighed as if she was preparing herself. ¡°Nice to know I¡¯m not alone. I¡¯ll see you around.¡±


    With waves and ''see you laters'' Roheisa and the others departed and left our little area alongside a few of the Epethian nobles and two of the Amazonians. Besides them, there was a few red-skinned people, two of which I assumed were demons or something. Then there was a blue-scaled fish-like person standing in the center of several humans gawking around what appeared to be a bald cat-man.


    ¡°Zeff Yurich!¡± The man in the middle announced next. He was short like a halfling but densely built like a dwarf, wearing a three-piece suit topped off with a trench coat and a pair of wide-rimmed glasses atop his grayed face. ¡°B-Party, to me, please.¡± He smirked.


    ¡°That¡¯s me.¡± Ed sighed and rose. And so too did Jaimess, the dwarven destroyer, the rest of the Phaegratheans, and all but two of the Epethians.


    Unlike Alpha Party, Baker Party was a lot less diverse. It was humans and dwarves for the most part. There was another Fishman and a couple more scaled creatures paired with a large woman who seemed to be made of stone. But that was it.


    ¡°C-Party, to me.¡± The last man said next, and he seemed the most familiar. He was lean, tall, and had pewter-white hair like that of the chef hired by my father. Only, this man''s was tied in a long ponytail and his face was much more worn with scars. ¡°My name is Doyle Wolfgang."


    With Winston Epeth and Peter Boyd, I stood from the seats to stand before the right side of the stage. With us were six humans and a dwarf as well as two more of those rock men, another cat creature with a likeness to a panther, a bird-like man, and; quite shockingly. A strange mix between a man and a dragon.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Doyle hopped down from the stage and guided us through an exit with a wave. After winding our way through the corridors, we were led inside a room with dozens of stall doors lining the walls and a long table standing in the middle, stacked high with folded clothes and shoe boxes.


    ¡°These are your uniforms.¡± Doyle gestured to the table. ¡°Everyone gets one, no matter the species. They''ll reform to fit your particular styles, but they''re necessary to guarantee your safety and keep track of your points. If you don¡¯t have a storage device or spell, come see me. Otherwise, get changed and we¡¯ll continue to the dorms.¡±


    With his words spent, I took a pile of clothes and a shoe box and stepped off to the nearest stall while Doyle¡¯s words whispered behind me. Interestingly, he was explaining that he was giving the students the choice to take a Sack of Containing. A small enchanted satchel or some other bag containing contained ten cubic meters of storage space inside. In doing so, however, they would be set back fifteen points. Otherwise, they could hold on to their clothes and store them in their dorms later.


    Putting that aside, the clothes were much like school uniforms from across Saturnia. The shoes were brown loafers and the pants were brown slacks paired with a white button-up shirt and brown blazer with green embroideries and red stitchings. Much like my family clothes, they resized to fit my body the moment I pulled the items on. Only, they also morphed on the spot to resemble the clothes I was wearing before. Albeit with a few variations. The boots and pants were more or less the same, tinted wood-brown now. Sadly, I no longer had a sash, and my shirt was now a button-up robe like the garb I could¡¯ve chosen back at the royal armory.


    In all, it wasn¡¯t bad. But I missed and wanted my sash. And in time, I would have it. For now, though, I returned to the central room and waited for Doyle to guide us through the corridors and out through a door leading outside to one of the courtyards made by the roots. It was around a kilometer to each side and contained everything from park benches to nature trails and even gardens, all huddled in a cluster to the north under the Bodhi Tree¡¯s trunk. On the other side of the platform was what appeared to be both a training ground and an outdoor courtyard. That courtyard was the very place Doyle guided us to before he instructed us to form a semi-circle around him, albeit with a warning to not get comfortable.


    ¡°Forgive my rudeness.¡± He palmed his chest and bowed. ¡°But I''m not one for theatrics so I¡¯ll keep this short. As I said before, I¡¯m Doyle Wolfgang. Magical Aptitude Instructor, and homeroom teacher of the fifteen of you. C-Party. This is your courtyard.¡± He gestured around us. ¡°Every Party has its own. Members of the other Parties can only come here with permission. The gyms, library, and cafeteria are through that door and to the right.¡± He pointed to the arched door on the western side of the yard. ¡°Now follow me.¡±


    Without another word, Doyle turned to guide us through the opposing door, down a short flight of steps, and into a vast, rectangular room with slightly curved corners. Besides the door from which we came, there were only two staircases in each of the far corners that assumedly led to the rooms. Fashioned into the wall between them sat a grand fireplace, bordered by an archway of mail slots that were each filled with thick stacks of papers and pamphlets. And above the mantle sat a wide board displaying all of our names and the points we had. To the left of that was a spacious common area lined with bookshelves and filled with desks, tables, or beanbags while a communal dining area and kitchen sat on the opposing end, illuminated by the wide windows straddling the door.


    ¡°Welcome to your dorms.¡± Doyle spread his arms with a smile before nodding to the mantle across from us. ¡°You¡¯ll find your mailboxes and your progress reports on that display over there. Within the boxes are pamphlets giving an in-depth explanation about the rules at the Bodhi Tree, Classes, and information about your classmates¡¯ species. The board displays your points for now, but later it¡¯ll display the points of your teams and how you compare to the other Parties. While the common area is coed, the rooms are not. You may have guests in your rooms. But you may not share rooms, and intercourse is strictly forbidden. If you attempt to try, a warning will sound, the entire class will have their points deducted, and those responsible will face the Headmaster.¡± He grimly warned before pointing first to the stairs on the right, and then the left. ¡°Now, males will live on the left side, females on the right. There are enough for each of you and they¡¯re all capable of reforming to accommodate your needs. You are hereby dismissed to pick whatever room you want, head to the cafeteria for dinner, or retire for the night. Expect me here at nine tomorrow morning for our tour of the grounds.¡±


    Doyle left without another word and many of the students followed behind him. To stuff their faces in the cafeteria, I assumed, if not then to do some exploring before bedding down for the night. I, however, was one of the only ones to eagerly approach the mantle. And after claiming my treasure, I dutifully stepped downstairs to make my free pick of the available rooms.


    The set of stairs led to a dead end with corridors branching off to either side, with five rooms each. I decided to take the last door on the left side and waltzed to my room with nary a glance behind me to read and think and meditate the rest of the night away.

 98 - Orientation

    ¡°Finally.¡± I sighed once the door was sealed shut behind me. Then took a moment to take in a deep breath and quell my excitement.


    My dorm was what one would expect to find at a place of learning. A studio apartment with an en suite. Albeit larger than one would expect. A full-sized bed sat in the corner under some shelves with a nightstand to compliment it. A small desk sat across from that and the rest of the space was filled with the obligatory bookshelves, wardrobe, and trunk. With my bearings settled, I strode towards the desk and sat to skim over the documents before taking the dilated time to read them through my Eternal Eye.


    The first was an explanation of the schedule and a summary of how our courses would go. Essentially, the year would consist of one month of vacation at the end of the year and twelve months of study. Broken up into four, three-month quarters. The first would consist of an introductory course to magic, combat, history, and an analysis of the other realms. In the second quarter, we¡¯d begin practical training in magic and combat and learn of magical flora and fauna. As I understood it, a tournament of sorts would be held after that as a mid-year celebration. And then we¡¯d move on to practical combat exercises, an introduction to magical ores and materials, and an introductory crafting course that would continue on into the last quarter. Along with the healing course. The weekly schedule was based on the usual ten-day week, with three courses in an A-B-C-A-B-C fashion. The seventh and eighth days would be spent on ¡®venture time.¡¯ Wherein we¡¯d explore the wilds surrounding the great Bodhi Tree with either Doyle or our to-be-determined parties. Leaving the ninth day for duels and the tenth day off.


    Calculated and distributed by the enchantments in our clothes, the points we would receive during our time here would be distributed primarily on an individual basis in accordance with our performance. However, they could also be granted or taken away based on the actions of the entire party as well. They were like the school''s currency. They would allow us to get better food in the cafeteria, access different areas of the library, or purchase goods from the campus market. Each student was given a hundred points to start with, minus those who spent the fifteen points on a Sack of Containing.


    The last and most extensive section of the pamphlet regarded the rules. In short, there were many things we were allowed to do, and few things we weren¡¯t. It made a point to only mention restricted areas in passing. According to it, the tree would limit our area of accessibility on its own. Besides that, there was a bold warning against fighting, bullying, or fucking. Complete with a slew of repercussions for anyone who tried. Other than that, we were free to do what we wanted. We were still free to pursue relationships and could access the gym, cafeteria, and other areas at all times of the day and night. Most delightfully to me, however, was the fact that we could even drink and smoke so long as it wasn''t inside and not during class.


    With that taken care of, the first paper in my stack was cast aside and I moved on to the next one: a hilariously vague description of all the species present within our class. After skimming through the contents, I decided that was a good time to bed down for the night.  So I hopped onto my bed for a quick round of meditation.


    ---


    After waking, I decided against going to get some food in favor of reading through the rest of the material, which wound up being a pamphlet for each Class we could pick at the end of the year. Because of that, I actually took the time to read each of them and gather as much information as possible. In all, there were Artificers, Barbarians, Bards, Clerics, Druids, Fighters, Monks, Paladins, Rangers, Rogues, Sorcerers, Witches, Wizards, and Warlocks. And each of them had a slew of subclasses that were, in most cases, dependent on what species an individual was and the magical affinities they had, as well as any feats accomplished in life.


    Much to my dismay, however, nine o¡¯clock came around just before I finished reading through the last pamphlet. So I stepped out into the common area to sit in an unclaimed chair and compare my classmates to what I just read. In addition to me, the Epethian prince, and Peter, there were six other humans; or at least entities strongly resembling humans. Aside from us, there was only one dwarf. The two stone men were members of species from the borders of Nonus and the White Wall called Goliaths. Whether they were truly made from stone was up for debate, but their skin was so hard, dry, and ashy that they appeared like gargoyles, only formed like 2.5-meter-tall men dressed in furs and leathers. The cat-like humanoids were called Felipians, hailing from Betrarth. They were a bit shorter than the goliaths, at just over two meters. Boasting large cat-like eyes, tails, and large paw-like hands. The feathered one I spotted the day before was of a species collectively known as Sapiavi, as the species of humanoid birds called themselves a mostly indecipherable name of clicks and caws. They were reported to be everywhere but also hailed from Betrarth. Said to take on the qualities of a number of avian species, this particular one had a plume reminiscent of a harpy eagle. And was nearly as tall as the goliaths.


    The last of them was the dragonborne I spotted before. He was a bit shorter than the goliaths and covered from horns-to-clawed toes in vibrant red scales. Evidently, they evolved directly from dragons and inherited some of their traits, including their infamous breath attack. Yet, they were enslaved by dragons. Thus few of them see the legendary beasts favorably. But, like many other things, that knowledge only posed more questions. Namely...


    ¡®Do they lay eggs?¡¯


    I could do nothing more than compartmentalize the question once two loud thrums echoed from the door, announcing Doyle¡¯s presence before he stepped down the stairs and greeted us with a jerk of his thumb over his shoulder.


    With that, the fifteen of us followed him across the courtyard and into an ambiguous corridor to turn right and follow the roots toward the trunk. Along the way, he gestured to the doors and staircases placed sparsely along the walls and mentioned they were study rooms or gyms for individuals or parties. A place split between all students, but a place where we could train or study in peace. At the cost of points, of course. Continuing through the hall led us to the roundabout we were led to yesterday. It encircled the trunk like a ring, acting as a central hub for us first-year students. It was from this hub that the school was divided. Here, on the southern, innermost side of the ring, sat the library, gym, arena, and amphitheater. The outer wall contained the swimming halls, cafeteria, and accesses to each of the three dorms and their accompanying amenities. On the other hand, the northern half of the roots were reserved for the classrooms, in which there were four sections. Furthest to the right was Olga¡¯s classroom, and next to hers was Zeff¡¯s, with Doyle''s on the far left, separated from the others by the entrance to the Wilds.


    With that short explanation, Doyle stopped before the cafeteria and explained that the kitchen was linked to our clothes via enchantments and could essentially keep track of each student''s dietary needs. Furthermore, the kitchen was magical like our rooms, and could produce anything from an extensive menu in an instant. And that menu could be updated by cooking our home dishes in our rooms or common areas. With that short explanation done, he pushed the doors open to reveal an expansive, open-ceilinged, elliptical room floored with stone tiles and left open to the elements through the missing ceiling and back wall. At its center was a thick tree that glowed softly with arcana from its canopy, giving some nice shade and I assumed some ambient light during the later hours. Its roots not only stretched throughout the room but they also rose in various places to form tables, chairs, benches, and other furniture. Looking past the southern wall, I saw the stone tiles drop off to a landscaped park area, filled with a similar arrangement of glowing furniture that¡¯d been left to the mercy of the elements.


    "With our tour finished, we¡¯ll have our discussions during lunch. Then, I¡¯ll dismiss you all for the day.¡± Doyle said, bringing my attention back to him, waving dismissively as he walked off into the yard. ¡°So order your food and gather around."


    Like many of the others, I turned from him to see a broad-faced boy with cropped hair rush to be the first to sit before a table and touch his finger to the crystal-like apparatus at its center. Upon doing so, he seemed to focus on something invisible to the rest of us before leaning back and looking up anxiously. After looking up, I was just as shocked as the others to see a steaming bowl of soup and a plate of bread descend from a thick pair of vines and land before him.


    Such a sight created a wave of hungry students rushing to the nearest table for their meals. All but a few of us, at least.


    Upon reaching a table of my own, I was shocked to find the surprises had yet to cease. All we had to do was touch the crystal and a reflection of our tag would appear as our mana was registered. Once done, we simply had to browse the grimoire-like menu or think about what we wanted to eat whilst feeding a bit of mana into the crystal. Then our food would be delivered. That aside, the dishes themselves were an eclectic mix of culinary delights I could spend hours analyzing. Not only were there a myriad of dishes that came from all over the Earth, but dishes that were deemed as favorites and staples for the likes of drow- and other creatures.


    Going with something simple, I ordered a plate of steak, mushrooms, and scrambled insect eggs paired with wine from the drow menu and took my bounty to the huddle gathered around Doyle to take a seat near the rear.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Alright.¡± He sighed moments later. ¡°As your homeroom teacher, you¡¯ll begin each week in my class. Our classes will begin with a roll call and a briefing on what to expect for the week. Our weeks will continue in such a way until your teams are formed and a leader is picked for your party. Now for the important part.¡± He huffed again. ¡°For those of you that read it, you¡¯ll notice that the rules mentioned duels, but didn¡¯t explain them. That¡¯s because the Headmaster insisted that we ensure you understand how important duels are in your first year. They are, first and foremost, a way to allow you all to deal with aggression toward one another. Hostilities are inevitable. So handle your business in the arena and move on to focus on your studies.


    ¡°Secondly.¡± He held up two fingers. ¡°Duels are a way to increase points. Anyone can challenge another at any time. In fact, you¡¯re encouraged to do so. As it¡¯s a great way to build confidence and experience in those of you who are timid or inexperienced. If you¡¯re the one who was called out, you can decline the duel at a cost of twenty-five points. If not, your names will be added to the schedule and you¡¯ll fight at the end of that week. Variations in power levels will be handled with Negstone or magical equipment.¡± He explained to the worried murmurs hidden in the crowd. ¡°As for the duels themselves, no killing is the only rule. Potions, weapons, or any type of ability is fair game. Our staff members aren¡¯t there to just spectate. We¡¯re ready to step in and stop the match at a moment''s notice. And our Archwitch is a sorceress of light. So you needn¡¯t worry about holding back.


    ¡°Now then.¡± He leaned forward with a curious smirk. ¡°With that out of the way, we can talk about the more interesting things. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve all read about the different Classes, but I¡¯ll give you all a piece of advice.¡± He paused and allowed his smirk to creep further up his face after seeing many of the students lean forward in anticipation. ¡°You should think about the different Career Paths available to you as much as you think about the Classes you want. Everyone knows about joining a military or guild for the sake of fighting for some king, emperor, or whatever else.¡± He waved his arms almost disgustedly. ¡°But that¡¯s one of many routes available to us Mystics. For those with no interest in such things, the Civil Services is but one of many paths available. Even Mystics can find work in governments or political courts as easily as they can in healthcare and wellness. If not, there is Research and Development, which is technically what the Bodhi Tree''s staff is a part of. It consists of not only instructors but those who document their spells and knowledge as well. If you want to invent new things or develop new potions or test new equipment, this can be a lucrative path to explore.


    ¡°These are but a few of many paths.¡± He hurriedly said after watching the vines reach down and gather our plates at increasing intervals. ¡°For every occupation that exists for the explored realms for the commoners, there exists one for us Mystics as well. Take the time to think about that and your classes over the course of the year. You¡¯re dismissed until the dinner tomorrow.¡± He began to step off. ¡°You¡¯ll find letters in your mailboxes. Among them are your schedules and a list of your teammates. You¡¯re dismissed.¡±


    With that, most of the class departed and went their separate ways. I, for one, went to our courtyard and found a nice quiet corner to sit and smoke and contemplate everything I¡¯d learned over the last couple of days. Particularly about Classes.


    Based on what I learned, the Barbarian, Bard, Cleric, Druid, Fighter, Paladin, Rogue, and Warlock Classes were all definite no¡¯s for me. According to the text and what I knew from outside, Warlocks were essentially magical wage slaves. They made compacts with a not-always-benevolent or kind being and went on deadly chases involving wild geese in exchange for slivers of power that they couldn¡¯t develop on their own. Similarly, Druids were just magical tree-huggers that spent all their time trying to fight deforestation and talking to animals. I loved nature and would definitely be open to speaking with animals, but not to the point of wanting to transform into them myself. The Fighter, and Paladin Classes, however, had far simpler reasons for me declining them. I was a Sorcerer with reality-bending magic, not a Fighter. And Paladins were an occupation-specific class. One had to be knighted before they could become a paladin, making Toril and Lucia the only ones I knew who could even take the class. The former was self-explanatory. And the latter involved them making an oath, a magical promise basically, sworn to a deity or the universe itself to live under a certain conviction. In essence, it was essentially placing moral conditions on oneself in exchange for power. Something I couldn¡¯t say I¡¯d do even if I could.


    Bards turned out to be interesting. I was fully aware of how powerful Bards were in various forms of fiction, but it was still something I couldn¡¯t see myself doing. I had always enjoyed art of all kinds. So much so that I learned to play a variety of instruments, practiced a number of artistic crafts, and even learned how to sing. But I was more of a shower performer than a superstar that could bring the power of music to life. However, my appreciation would always remain. So I resolved to find a bard to add to my squad after the guild was created. But, I digress.


    The Rogue and Barbarian classes were pretty much useless to me. My shadow sorcery made me far better at sneaking around than any Class could provide and my necrotic spells were superior to any poison one could create either with or without an affinity. On top of that, my Burning Soul Spell was basically the same as a Berserker state. It would¡¯ve synergized nicely with the Barbarian class in that regard, but it wasn¡¯t really my style to begin with. After a bit of pondering, I realized that mindset extended to the Ranger class as well. Although the benefits of animal handling and nature sensitivity were appealing, it was nothing that my senses and current knowledge base couldn¡¯t already do.


    Clerics were the only one among those cast aside that was different. It wasn¡¯t that I didn¡¯t want it, it was just that I was sure it was something I already was. According to my mother, I was already one. Just like her. They were like Warlocks, in a sense. Only, their power came from prayer and divine intervention. The result was that, unlike Warlocks, Clerics were more like magical sugar babies, which was basically what I was to Telin. I gave him entertainment, he gave me power. The cleric receives divine spells while their deity receives faith and worship. Only, I didn¡¯t need to even acknowledge Telin¡¯s existence. Not that I received any divine energy yet. But, if his words rang true, I wouldn¡¯t need to pray or worship anyone to siphon divine energy from him. I was an Unproven Eternal Soul. Which translated to living god in this universe, according to him. Which begged the question. ¡®Could I one day get a Cleric who prays to me? More so.¡¯ I grinned wide after recalling everything I¡¯ve learned about my lineage. ¡®If I¡¯m truly from a family of Devils, what exactly does that make me as a God?¡¯


    I quickly lost myself in searching for the answer and resolved to gain information from as many sources as I could. Obviously, there was the library. I was sure they had at least something about devils within its walls. Other than that and my ancestors, though, the only one I could think of to ask was the dragonborne. Not because I thought he had ties to a devil, but because he was the closest thing to the creature from my dream.


    With those resolutions affirmed in my mind, my thoughts quickly wound back to deciding what Class I should pick. If everything covered thus far was correct, I already had two; Cleric and Sorcerer. And unless I was born with or subconsciously fell down the path of more classes, I could only see myself getting two more. Now, the pamphlet didn''t mention a hard limit to the number of classes one could have, but they recommended we take only two, with a maximum of three. Any more and we may not have enough time to venture down each path next year, and the rewards may not even be compatible with each other. That aside, I for sure wanted to be an Artificer. It was advertised that we¡¯d be able to focus on any one craft, such as Alchemy or Artificing. But I wanted what was advertised to be the pinnacle of the Class, the Grandmaster Artificer. Basically a magical engineer with proficiency in all crafts.


    As for the two quintessential magical classes, they were both decided against as well. Witch was a genderless term used to describe those who used their magic for healing, rather than fighting. And healing was another definite no for me. My necromantic healing required a high pain tolerance and my usage of light wasn¡¯t something I wanted known to the public just yet. That aside, I wasn¡¯t altruistic enough to work in the medical field and my ties to the Underworld made me reluctant to even heal some people at all. Wizards were curious though. The paths were advertised to focus on different fields of magic that specialized in using magic in certain ways, such as spells that specialized in protection and defense or those that covered large areas at once. It was a class that few mystics chose, despite it granting spellcasting abilities to those without affinity cores. But it was one I wouldn¡¯t choose either. It would be studied, most certainly. But not chosen as a class.


    In all, that left the Monk to be the only Class I truly considered. Monks were said to specialize in imbuing Ki into their bodies. This energy increases their strength, agility, and constitution to super-human levels, thus causing their martial abilities to skyrocket. While I still had the intention to primarily use magic, the appeal to me was Ki itself. It was the greatest way to overcome the natural weakness of my elven heritage without stealing life. More so, it was a physical ability and thus was unaffected by anti-magic. My kryptonite. On top of that, it was a great way to maintain my combat skills. Not to mention I''ve essentially been living like a monk for all these years anyway. So it was more or less a done deal. I would become a Monk, Grandmaster Artificer, Cleric, and Sorcerer. Besides that, Grandpa Lich all but ordered me to take the optional summoning course to make the most out of my necromancy. I wasn¡¯t exactly excited to see him next year. But I was excited to learn about what he meant by his words. I assumed it was more of how to train and organize my undead rather than summon them; as from what I saw, summoning them was no different than releasing my Doppelganger.


    What made me hesitant about the course, however, was the reward that was advertised for its completion. A Familiar. Often a Fae spirit that possesses or takes on the form of an animal. I had a troop of almost twenty magical beasts hidden in my shadow and an undead army on the horizon. I didn¡¯t exactly have a need or use for a Familiar. But I did want to take the course, so I decided to burn that bridge when I came to it.


    With my data points settled for the moment, I halted the cogs in my mind and turned my limited attention to the sprawling forest before me, and lost myself in a sort of trance. Only to be interrupted not long after by a familiar face approaching with a girl hovering over his shoulder.


    ¡°H- hello, Amun.¡±


    ¡°Peter.¡± I nodded to the stammering boy.


    ¡°T- this is Zakira.¡± He hesitantly gestured to the girl beside him. ¡°W-we¡¯re in the same team. Us and two others. She knew I knew you and asked me to introduce her.¡±


    ¡°Hi!¡± She abruptly pushed around his shoulder and extended a hand to me with a smile wide enough to show me the most curious teeth hidden in her mouth. ¡°I¡¯m Zakira!¡±

 99 - A Promised Threat

    ¡°I¡¯m Zakira!¡±


    ¡®Oh, Telin.¡¯ I internally groaned, then took a moment to give the girl a close lookover. She was around my height. Perhaps a few centimeters taller. As slim as I was as well. Her skin was curiously smooth and noticeably pale, yet wasn''t entirely without color. Almost like she¡¯d spent years indoors before finally getting some sun in recent months; much like me. Her mouth and eyes were the most eye-catching of all, however. Her smile boasted large canines and almost bug-like red eyes bulged at me, unblinking.


    Based on that and her behavior, I was certain I knew what she was. But I didn¡¯t think Peter was aware of her nature so I calmly reached for her hand, then squinted in curious humor as she jumped in apparent surprise. ¡°My name is Amun.¡±


    ¡°Uh.¡± She held her gaze on our hands for a long second before stepping forward and lifting her beaming eyes to mine. ¡°Are you dead?¡± She excitedly asked.


    ¡°Uh.¡± I shook my head in surprise. ¡°Not yet.¡±


    ¡°So then.¡± She took another step forward. ¡°You¡¯re a devil?¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± I sighed, much to Peter¡¯s horror. ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± She squinted and nodded as if we were agreeing on some sort of conspiracy. ¡°You feel. Well, it''s complicated. But, it¡¯s¡­ nice.¡± She smiled cheerfully. ¡°You¡¯re nice. Let¡¯s be friends.¡±


    ¡°How about we start by letting go of each other?¡± I mockingly smiled while gesturing down to our hands. But if she saw it, it went unnoticed. As she let go of my hand without delay and remained standing less than a meter before me. Smiling ear-to-ear as if it were her birthday.


    ¡®So that¡¯s how it is, huh?¡¯ I snorted to myself. In Grandpa Lich''s words, all undead saw us as sovereigns. That included vampires. But for whatever reason, he acted meekly whenever they were mentioned. It was similar to the way he acted whenever I mentioned dragons. It was as if they were the only creature in existence to make the great Necro King uncomfortable. And now, I knew why.


    They were clingy as fuck.


    While it was most certainly weird, I didn¡¯t want to force her away for something she couldn¡¯t control. Besides, she was on my team.


    ¡°Our other teammates are over there!¡± Zakira turned, yet stepped closer to me as she pointed across the way to a dwarf and goliath chatting idly on a bench. A comical sight, to say the least. ¡°Come on!¡± She waved to us before skipping ahead by herself.


    ¡°A-are you really a devil?¡± Peter whispered from my side.


    ¡°Only half.¡± I shrugged without meeting his eyes. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make me a bad person, does it?¡±


    While he was still objectively horrified, he seemed to take a second to contemplate my words before his head slowly started shaking from side to side. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right.¡± He eventually said. ¡°But, what¡¯s the other half?¡±


    ¡°Drow.¡±


    Evidently, Peter felt a wave of horror come over him, as his pace slowed to a near halt while his face grew pale. However, my attention shifted to the two sitting before us. The Goliath at least looked like a male. He wore the same browns and greens as everyone else; only, they were morphed to resemble the leather and fur pelts they were wearing during the headmaster¡¯s speech. Other than that, a Satchel of Containing was strung over his obsidian or perhaps slate-like chest.


    ¡°Amun, this is Slate.¡± Zakira bubbly reached towards the goliath before pointing towards the dwarf. ¡°And this is Els.¡±


    ¡°Elsgril Silverforge to you, woman!¡± The dwarf spat back. Short, squat, and hairy as hell like all the others I saw, Elsgril Silverforge had the hardened callouses and scarred body of an artisanal warrior. The sides of his head were shaved, leaving a braided ponytail on the top that matched the elaborately braided beard dangling from his chin.


    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you all.¡± I nodded to him and... Slate.


    ¡°The pleasure is mine.¡± Slate stood to palm his belly and bow a few degrees. ¡°Our instructor implied we should converse with one another and the day is young, shall we begin?¡±


    ¡°Ugh.¡± Els turned from Slate with a groan. ¡°I, for one, need to register my equipment. And get some grub.¡±


    ¡°I do too.¡± I quickly said.


    ¡°Uh, I would also like to visit the store.¡± Peter sheepishly added.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s go!¡± Zakira stepped between us with a resounding clap before pulling me off toward the center of campus.


    ¡°So, uh,¡± I mumbled to her after turning into the halls. ¡°How you just... walk under the sun with no issue?¡±


    ¡°Uh, by stepping outside. Duh!¡± She said in her chaotically cheerful way, making the ensuing burn all the more severe.


    ¡°I¡­ heard that vampires are weakened in the sunlight.¡±


    ¡°Well, yeah! But it doesn¡¯t hurt us or anything!¡± Zakira giggled. ¡°We just lose our powers. That¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± I nodded. In other words, she was like Dracula. Sunlight turned in her into a regular human. Quite the trade-off for natural super strength, speed, and regeneration. ¡°Forgive my ignorance.¡± I bowed at the neck. To which she simply hummed to herself and remained silent until we arrived at the arena. Inside, was a foyer lined with plants and statues along all the walls, save the ones before us and to our left. Just ahead, the corridor led to the stands of what appeared to be a gladiatorial colosseum while the corridor on the left ended at a half-walled dead-end. Our destination.


    While a door sat off to the right of that hall, it was labeled to be for staff and duelists only. So our attention was gathered on the stall fashioned at the end. While it was unattended, I could see racks and chests and mannequins meant for equipment storage neatly arranged throughout the quite spacious room; Labeled from above as Zook¡¯s Armory.


    ¡°Hi, hi! Welcome, welcome!¡± A voice thumped from behind the walls before an aged gnome waddled around the corner, hopped aboard a desk, and stood to bring his beaming visage above the counter. ¡°I¡¯m Zook! Overseer of Zook¡¯s Armory, as you can see here!¡± He swiftly pointed above and kept rambling. ¡°You look like some mighty fine young Pages! Bet you¡¯re here to register? Yes, you are! Well alright, alright! Step up one at a time please and I¡¯ll get you sorted.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go first,¡± Zakira muttered before prying herself away from me and stepping before him. ¡°Hi!¡± She waved. ¡°I¡¯m Zakira and you talk fast.¡± Not that she was one to talk. She spoke like a college girl who took nothing seriously, but with somewhat of an Easter European accent. It was curious. Zook, however, was shocked.


    ¡°Uh- t- thank you, Miss.¡± He shook his head, then rapidly nodded. ¡°You have any equipment you want me to hold? I¡¯ll tell ya, you can only duel with registered equipment. You needn¡¯t worry about it getting stolen or damaged. I¡¯ll take good care of it!¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± Zakira hurriedly reached into her comparatively small satchel to withdraw and hand over a rather impressive mace. ¡°This is my weapon, Blood Stain. And then.¡± She drew out the word while reaching back into her satchel to hand over a suit of red and off-white armor piece-by-piece. ¡°The Blood Weaver Set.¡± While it was impressive, there was no magic leaking off from any of the parts so I let the pieces gloss over my vision until she was done and trotted back to my side.


    ¡°Guess I¡¯ll go next.¡± With his arm dug into his bag, Els waddled before the desk and let out a grunt of apparent dissatisfaction after meeting eyes with the gnome towering above him. Then he handed over a set of armor in much the same fashion as Zakira. While I could see no signatures of enchantments coming from the pieces, there was a bit of mana pouring out from across their surfaces. But before I could hypothesize, Zook let out an awed gasp that pulled my attention to him.


    ¡°I see this is made from some rare materials.¡± Zook gasped again.


    ¡°Aye. Though it has yet to face battle. As such, it has no name yet. But these!¡± Grinning wide, Els reached into his bag to retrieve a war hammer and shield made of the same gold and blueish iron-like materials and held them up high before slamming them on the counter. ¡°These be the Cave Carver and Mountain Post!¡±


    ¡°Those names are dumb,¡± I mumbled to Peter and Zakira.


    Els spun around at once, spitting and warbling his finger. ¡°I heard that!¡±


    "I- ah!" Peter recoiled from the angry dwarf, forcing Zakira¡¯s giggles to erupt into blatant laughter. Yet Peter still tried to save his sinking ship. "I don''t have any weapons or equipment.¡± He sheepishly said.


    While Slate pulled a quite large but unremarkable claymore from his bag, a part of me wanted to reassure Peter and tell him equipment didn¡¯t make the fighter. That said, I also didn¡¯t want to be a hypocrite and pull out a bunch of expensive equipment right after telling him such a thing. So I decided to forgo the former and do the latter.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Zook squinted hard at me as I approached. ¡°You look familiar.¡±


    ¡°I have one of those faces.¡± I waved the matter aside before gesturing around. ¡°I was told we can use magic in here?¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± Zook nodded his little head. ¡°It''s the arena. Just don¡¯t attack anyone.¡±


    ¡°Was that a... alright.¡± I sighed. ¡°Just¡­ prepare yourself.¡±


    He seemed confused but continued studying my visage until I reached into my shadow to withdraw my spear. And at that moment, he and Els practically leaped forward in shock. But for seemingly different reasons.


    ¡°Now that is a fine weapon.¡± Els hovered his hand above the haft as he stroked it from blade to pommel.


    Once his gawking was done, I imbued a bit of shadow magic into the hilt to shorten it enough to fit on the table and set it down gently. ¡°Be careful,¡± I smirked at the gnome. ¡°It''s tainted.¡±


    ¡°I can tell by the name.¡± He recoiled, shaking his head as if he were in despair. ¡°The Shadowsteel Reaper. And these enchantments. Hah!¡± He looked up at me, cackling madly. ¡°This is amazing! And your power. I haven¡¯t seen something like that in years.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± I abruptly leaned over the desk and eyed the gnome closely. ¡°How did you know its name?¡±


    ¡°A perk of my Class!¡± Zook stepped back, spreading his little arms wide. ¡°I¡¯m a Grandmaster Artificer! I can tell what a lot of things are! Including the names of weapons, enchantments, or materials. I¡¯m at the Fifteenth Step if you¡¯re interested. Been stuck there for decades.¡± He muttered as he finished.


    ¡°I am interested.¡± I grinned. ¡°Greatly. Why are you stuck, if I may ask?¡±


    ¡°Runes!¡± He said, making my ears cramp from how hard they perked up. ¡°Don¡¯t know nothing about ''em. Never seen ''em. Don¡¯t wanna go exploring to find ''em. But, uh.¡± He wagged a finger at my spear. ¡°This here enchantment is a problem. Spectral Blade. And this other one without a name too. You can use the weapon against your classmates if you don¡¯t use those enchantments. Otherwise, you have free reign.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡± I put our talk of runes on the corkboard and nodded along. ¡°But my other equipment may be more... problematic.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± He leaned forward and watched with those curious beady eyes as I reached into my shadow again. Then the same scene as before replayed once I placed my daggers fell onto the table.


    ¡°The Shade Splitters.¡± He gasped.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t name them.¡± I hurriedly said and immediately sighed after hearing Zakira¡¯s giggles rise from behind me.


    ¡°Yes, you¡¯re right.¡± He nodded. ¡°I can see why you¡¯d think these would be problematic. But you can still use these in the arena. Some of your classmates will keep fighting no matter how much li-¡±


    ¡°I still have two more pieces of equipment.¡± I nearly yelled. ¡°Unlike the others, they¡¯re; for lack of a better explanation, bound to my soul.¡±


    ¡°Oho?¡± Zook and Els stood on the tips of their toes at the same time. Forcing another round of giggles from Zakira''s lips.


    ¡°Bound to your soul?¡± Zook slowly repeated.


    ¡°Yeah. I can¡¯t take it off.¡±


    I saw Peter squint in confusion from my peripherals but stepped forward in anticipation like the rest of them once Zook said. ¡°May I see it?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± I shrugged and allowed a bit of darkness to envelop me to summon the armor. And like the umbral energy around me was a magnet, the pieces were pulled from the Shadowfell and clamped around my body in less than a second. Leaving my hulking form towering over the little gnome''s desk.


    Without waiting for him to move past his awe, I reached to the small of my back to pull Death¡¯s Key from its sheath and held the seax out to him. Then retracted it once he, Peter, and everyone else but Zakira jumped back in horror.


    ¡°P- please! Put that away!¡± Zook shuddered, much to my amusement and surprise. But I still did as asked and put both the armor and the blade away.


    ¡°So, much hunch was correct.¡± Zook shuddered again. ¡°You are-¡±


    ¡°A living devil, yes.¡± I groaned in annoyance and showed everyone my ears. ¡°I¡¯m also half-drow. Do with that knowledge what you will.¡±


    ¡°Drow?¡± Els recoiled in surprise. ¡°I-¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t know they bred with humans or left the Dark World.¡± I stopped him as gently as I could. ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Well, I didn¡¯t mean to offend.¡± He harrumphed with a spread of his hands.


    ¡°None taken.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°Right.¡± Zook hesitantly nodded once our banter had died down. ¡°Your armor and that¡­ cursed sword of yours is indeed a special case. As such, I will schedule an appointment with the Headmaster for you. But keep in mind it may take a few weeks for him to get to you. He¡¯s a busy man.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± I shrugged it off. "It¡¯s not as if I use them anyway. I just wanted to be forthright."


    ¡°Very well.¡± He bowed and began hesitantly stowing my weapons away. ¡°Before you go, I¡¯ll explain that there are terminals in the classrooms and facilities that will act as armories in their own right. That way, you won¡¯t have to come here to retrieve and stow away your gear. If that¡¯s all, I bid you a good day!¡±


    With a nod, I bid him farewell and followed the others out into the central hub to make a pit stop in a small alcove within the cafeteria. Inside was a round room lined from end-to-end with pedestals supporting thick catalogs containing moving pictures and spoken descriptions of the contents listed for sale.


    ¡®Magic manga.¡¯ I chuckled to myself.


    In all, the school sold a wide variety of things that I both did and did not expect. Of course, there were things like potions, simple armor or weapons, and even snacks, food, or raw materials. Surprisingly, however, a variety of enchanted and magical materials that granted resistance to certain things were for sale as well. Which immediately made me think of how it coincided with our Classes.


    Even though I had no use for such things, I took a long look through the listings while Peter purchased a few things for himself. My points, I decided, would be spent in the greatest place of all.


    The library.


    Once our purchases were complete, we returned to our dorms as a group and immediately saw Winston, brooding by his lonesome in one of the chairs. At a glance, I assumed he was pouting because he wasn¡¯t paired with any of his vassals or friends. With that assumption made, I started to turn away. Only to realize a scowl wrinkle across his face after noticing us.


    While we all went on towards our mailboxes to retrieve our schedules, Winston¡¯s scowl kept switching between Peter and me before eventually settling on me. So I quickly shifted directions to sit across from him and match his stare.


    ¡°I¡¯m Amun. It seems you don¡¯t like me too much. Why?¡±


    ¡°Because you willingly associate yourself with trash.¡± He spat with a crude gesture towards Peter.


    ¡°Oh?¡± I leaned over his shoulder to take a look at Peter before turning back to Winston. ¡°What makes him trash?¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t tell you?¡± He scoffed. Then raised his voice so everyone in the common area could hear him say. ¡°Peter was a slave! He was only freed because he awakened his cores.¡±


    ¡°Well, congratulations!¡± I met Peter¡¯s shaken eyes with a smile. Then turned back to Winston. ¡°As far as I¡¯m concerned, you¡¯re the only trash here.¡±


    ¡°W- what?¡± He scoffed again. ¡°You¡¯re going to fight his battles for him?¡±


    ¡°Definitely not.¡± I laughed and let it drift off into a pitiable sigh. ¡°I just hate bullies.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t look down on me because I''m human and you¡¯re a drow-devil, Amun of Odissi. I know what you are!¡± He loudly spat, invoking more gazes than I was comfortable with to fall upon me. ¡°Five cores or not, devil or not, Cole House or not, you don¡¯t scare me.¡±


    ¡°Oooh, five!¡± Zakira tactlessly gasped.


    ¡°That¡¯s not why I look down on you, Winston.¡± I amiably smiled. ¡°I look down on you because you¡¯re a whiny, spoiled child who thinks his meaningless title and loutish lineage makes him better than everyone else. There¡¯s a difference. People like you make me sick.¡±


    As the snickering and murmurs from the crowd ensued, I rose from the couch and began descending towards the rooms with my team with nary a look behind me. Even as he spat. ¡°You¡¯ll be the first I teach a lesson!¡± He spat behind me.


    ¡°I¡¯m free anytime.¡± I waved over my shoulder.

 100 - Unhappy Days

    ''Should you be out at play and suddenly hear a drum, make certain you take everyone around you and run.


    The small green children have come out to play. To murder and kill; to torture and slay.


    Should you be in deep woods and see the plants start to writhe, find a place of pure stone and be certain to hide.


    The tusked warmongers have gone on patrol. To slaughter the weak, and battle the bold.


    Should you hear clicking when out in mid-dark, light aflame your torch and never cease your bark.


    The darkest of elves have risen from their caves; to slaughter the old and take the young as their slaves.


    Should you be in mid-day and witness the sudden fall of night; do not run, scream, hide, or fight.


    Smile politely; stand tall like the ox; for the only way to live is to give respect to the Nox.''


    ''When They Come.''


    ***


    Peter Boyd.


    ***


    While my mind was racing, I followed everyone to Amun¡¯s room and only came to my senses after fighting to see through the darkness within. Unlike the others, much to my frustration.


    Squinting through it, I saw the outlines of a large pillow sitting in the corner of where the bed was in my room. But besides that, I could only see the vague outlines of the rest of them moving around as if they could see just fine. After disappearing for a bit, I saw Amun¡¯s shadow settle on the pillow before he lit a candle for me. Revealing his gentle smile that was both off-putting and welcoming all the same.


    Now that I could see, I looked around eagerly to see the place where the wardrobe was in my room had been replaced with a long counter and cooking surface that stretched from the corner to the door. Besides that, it was all the same. An open floor lined with trunks and wardrobes sat between the kitchen in the bed. A seemingly small space for the five of us huddled around a candle. But with this change in our environment, I felt that I had to voice my concern.


    ¡°Uhm.¡± I looked at Amun. ¡°Are you sure challenging Winston was a good idea?¡±


    Hearing my own words, I hurriedly held up my hands to retract my words. ¡°I mean, I know you¡¯re strong, but Winston¡¯s barrier magic is almost impenetrable.¡±


    ¡°The keyword in that sentence was almost.¡± He charmingly smiled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. I just have hard feelings about bullying and slavery.¡±


    ¡°As do I!¡± Slate grunted in affirmation. ¡°Abusing the weak is a sign of weakness and cowardice. And.¡± He slammed a stony fist onto the ground. ¡°The mere thought of claiming ownership over another is unthinkable.¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡± Elsgril sighed. ¡°I was surprised to even hear a human empire still practicing slavery. Why, with enchantments and the like, there¡¯s no need.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Zakira cheerfully nodded. ¡°He sucks.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯m curious about you!¡± Elsgril leaned towards Amun. ¡°All this talk of devils and drow. Where are you from? What¡¯s your story?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you all, in due time.¡± Amun calmly bared his palms at the dwarf before looking at me. ¡°First, I¡¯m curious about your story.¡±


    ¡°M- my story?¡± I looked in horror at the faces surrounding me. But, like Amun¡¯s; Slate, Elsgril, and Zakira¡¯s faces were all full of warm and reassuring expressions. So I took a deep breath and began recounting the things I''ve kept hidden in the back of my mind for months now.


    ¡°My parents are from Epethia. An empire on Maru.¡± I clarified. ¡°Before I was born, their parents were sentenced to live as slaves for stealing from the royal family. I don¡¯t know what it was that they tried to steal. But I was told it was really important and expensive. And the royals never got it back. They were enslaved as kids. But for some reason.¡± I clenched my fist. ¡°My parents chose to have a kid anyway. Those chose to have me. Bringing me into a life of slavery for a crime committed by someone I never met. We were treated worse than dirt. We lived in filth and ate rotten food. A good day was when our masters would throw insults at us. Otherwise, they''d attack us with their magic for their own amusement or beat on us for ''practice'' with their weapons. Outside of that, our only job was labor. We were farmers, mostly. We tended to the private gardens and farms of the nobles and royal families while the commoners ate their scraps. We starved and grew sick while the nobles stuffed themselves, grew fat, and wasted enough food to feed a village every tenday.


    ¡°But.¡± I sighed in an attempt to lock it all away again. ¡°After I awakened my Cores, I was freed. Though my family is still in bondage. I.. I''m not sure I want to see them again. I didn''t see them again. I sought out the Guild Association. They taught me how to read and write, then I took the assessment. I never expected to be granted entry to the Academy.¡± I laughed in embarrassment. ¡°According to them, my affinity cores are high tier and my Mana Well is deep. And a life of farming seemed to make me quite strong once I actually got some food in my stomach.¡±


    While the others were quietly listening while I spoke, I held my gaze on Amun throughout most of my explanation. At that time, I saw more expressions on Amun¡¯s otherwise uncaring face than I¡¯d seen since meeting him. Confusion. Understanding. Anger. Sorrow. Disgust. And many more things. But no condescension. And no pity. Whatever it was to come across his face, it was in blatant view of the rest of us as he intently listened to my words. And so, I intently shared them. Up until the moment I finished. And he asked me something I¡¯d thought of every day since then.


    ¡°Will you free them?¡±


    ¡°I- don¡¯t have the power to.¡± I stammered.


    ¡°Yet.¡± He corrected with a pointed finger.


    ¡°No!¡± I slammed my fist into my thigh this time. ¡°You don¡¯t understand! I tried! I was...¡± I reclined onto my hands and let out a long sigh. ¡°I was going to. I had already passed the Assessment. But I was going to throw it all away.¡±


    ¡°But something stopped you.¡± Slate accurately guessed.


    ¡°It was¡­ lightning,¡± I said, seeing the flashes of that day replay in my mind. ¡°Magic. A kind unlike any I felt before. It covered all of Maru¡¯s skies in roaring lightning. It made me feel so¡­ small. So weak. It was the only reason I changed my mind.¡±


    ¡°The lightning is inconsequential.¡± Slate waved his arm through the silence. ¡°The fact of the matter is, you had many chances prior to and after that moment to enact your revenge. But you did not. That speaks volumes.¡±


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    ¡°Also.¡± Amun leaned over the candle. ¡°You never answered my question.¡±


    ¡°I already told you.¡± I sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not strong enough.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you this.¡± Amun smiled. ¡°Violence is the most basic answer to the question: ¡®How?¡¯ It is the simplest and quickest method, and the one most prone to failure.¡±


    My mouth opened and closed repeatedly as I tried to make a response to no avail. Thankfully, I didn¡¯t have to try for long. As Amun quickly broke the silence again. ¡° What Cores were you given?¡±


    ¡°I have four Affinity Cores. For Inferno, Tornado, Mountain, and Flood Magic.¡±


    ¡°You have four advanced elemental affinities?¡± Amun squinted in apparent confusion. I began preparing myself for the insults, but then he surprised me with his words. ¡°That¡¯s fucking amazing.¡± He chuckled to himself, beaming wide.


    ¡°The magic o'' mountains. That''s indeed impressive.¡± Elsgril scratched his beard with a blank look before eventually adjusting his posture with a deep groan. ¡°Since we''re doing a show and tell and you clearly have a lot to tell.¡± He nudged Amun. ¡°I¡¯ll keep it simple. My clan originally hails from Maru. We were artisanal masters. But, some time ago, my ancestors ventured through the portals to settle in Nonus. But I wanna make it known that we are not a part of the families of light. We live underground. Near the Dark World. Since then, we¡¯ve become more fighters than crafters. But we still practice as a way to remain tied to our roots. That¡¯s why I came here.¡± He proudly thumped his chest. ¡°To learn the secrets of my ancestors and rekindle the Silverforge.¡±


    ¡°An admirable goal.¡± Amun grinned a curiously wide smile before turning to Slate.


    ¡°My people are originally from Nonus, near the White Wall. In the uncountable ages since then, my ancestors have migrated over and through Betrarth, and entered through the Betrarth portal to enter Nonus once more.¡± He quickly explained. ¡°The boundary of Betrarth, Nonus, and the Steam Line was where I was born, where the portal leads. I was raised with the herd alongside my companions here at the Bodhi Tree. Only, we began disobeying the teachings of the elders as we grew older. Instead of following the herd across the lands and into battle, we sought knowledge. That cost us our names. As punishment, we were given the names of the rocks and gems we most appeared like. Still, we persevered. And our punishment was banishment. With nowhere to go, we ventured to the human territories. Soon after, we learned others of our kind had ventured through those lands before. And soon after, we learned of this place.¡±


    ¡°So then, it¡¯s safe to assume that you¡¯re here to learn how to use magic?¡± Amun asked.


    ¡°That would be correct.¡±


    ¡°Well, you came to the right place.¡± Amun shrugged his brows before turning to Zakira. The annoyingly cheeky girl with the blood obsession. "What about you?"


    ¡°What about me?¡± She shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m a vampire! My name is Zakira.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Amun groaned. ¡°Where are you from? What can you do?¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± She cheekily droned on. ¡°I¡¯m from Vagua. I was¡­ sort of, kind of, disowned from my family and banished to the First Layer of Hell. And then.¡± She droned the word on again. ¡°I went through the portal and arrived on Nonus and they were like: ¡®Hey, are you going to the Academy?¡¯ And I was like. ''Yeah. Sure.''¡± She wagged her finger at us a few times before finishing her rambling with a dreamy sigh. ¡°And now I¡¯m here!¡±


    ¡°Wow!¡± Amun gasped in false admiration. ¡°You have such a way with words.¡±


    ¡°Thank you!¡± She curtsied. ¡°Oh yeah!¡± She bounced back a moment later. ¡°I¡¯m a full-blooded vampire with Bloodstring Magic. And I¡¯m 15 years old!"


    ¡°Okay.¡± Amun chuckled wryly to himself. ¡°How did vampires survive for so long without the blood of humans?¡±


    ¡°Before the portals opened?¡± She asked with mild interest. ¡°Some of us drank demon blood.¡± She simply shrugged. ¡°Well, those of us who were strong enough did. It makes us, like, really strong and powerful and stuff.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s interesting,¡± Amun mumbled to himself, nodding in ways that made it hard to tell if he was being serious or not.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Zakira mumbled in much the same way. ¡°Those of us who were too weak feasted on the animals of Vagua. But all of us tried to stay away from demons. The Clans and Families have been at war for, like, forever. So.¡± She shrugged.


    ¡°So then, the ones that don¡¯t want to fight go to Nonus as refugees?¡± Amun guessed.


    ¡°Some.¡± She nodded. ¡°Most of them go to the White Wall. But wherever we go, I¡¯m told humans like to fight us.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± I cut in. For what reason was beyond me, but I did. And all the attention was turned to me in an instant. So I pressed on. ¡°That¡¯s because humans call everything but themselves monsters. I mean, I grew up hearing stories about other creatures. I was told drow kidnaps children, enslaves them, and feeds them to monsters in the Darkworld. I was told vampires sneak into cities and disguise themselves as nobles to hold parties where they kill a bunch of humans and bathe in their blood. They sing nursery rhymes about your family! I was told to trust nothing but another human. But other humans have been nothing but unkind to me for as long as I can remember. It¡¯s you all.¡± I looked at each of them in turn. ¡°A dwarf, a goliath, a vampire, and a half-drow of the House of Cole, who¡¯ve treated me with as much kindness as their friend. But¡­¡± I shook my head in disbelief. ¡°I don''t understand. Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I''m trying to be your friend,¡± Amun said as if it was the simplest thing in the world. ¡°I mean.¡± He shrugged. ¡°There''s also the fact that I can tell that you have good character. Also, your magical affinities are amazing. And, you have the potential to do great things. But that¡¯s unimportant. I want to be your friend.¡±


    ¡°And I want to educate you on something.¡± Zakira leaned towards me with a sudden seriousness that was... offputting, to say the least. ¡°Humans fear what they don¡¯t understand. Time can bring about an understanding, sure, but the fear will always remain. That applies to everything that isn¡¯t human as well. But in terms of drow and vampires and devils or undead. The majority of you fear us. You hate us because of a nature we can¡¯t change. You have every right to. But I can tell you that vampires harbor no ill will towards humans.¡± She paused to sink her radiant, red eyes into mine. ¡°We don¡¯t seek to kill or slaughter humans. Committing genocide would only leave us with less food.


    ¡°That said.¡± She shrugged in her usual manner and backed away. ¡°Some of our kind do wish to rule over humans. And, what you said about vampires is true. Blood Parties can be quite fun. But we only kill the vagrants of society or those who are willing. And we don''t bathe in their blood. We make it into wine.¡±


    ¡°And the demons?¡± Slate asked with a curious sense of excitement. ¡°Are they as formidable as everyone says? Humans talk as if they¡¯re at war with them, yet our headmaster and even a few students have demonic blood in their veins.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± Zakira shrugged. ¡°Demons aren¡¯t necessarily good or bad, they just¡­ have their ways, ya know? But the stories are true. They''re strong as fuck!¡±


    ¡°How so?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m not the best person to explain.¡± She sheepishly chuckled, then continued anyway. ¡°Demons don¡¯t have a power cap. And they get strong way too easily. Like, I can get strong like that if I drink a lot of human blood, right? But like, blood from an elf or a demon or a paladin or some shit would make me, like, super fucking strong.¡±


    ¡°Ah, okay?¡± I stammered.


    ¡°But demons are different.¡± She continued. ¡°Emotional energy is their blood. So like, if I was a lust demon, I would be super fucking strong ''cause you keep looking at my butt.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ I didn¡¯t look at your butt.¡± I squinted in confusion. "You''re sitting down."


    ¡°I know.¡± She shrugged. Then waved her long nail in my face and smiled wide while saying. ¡°But if you did!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like a feedback loop.¡± Amun nodded as if she actually spoke some sensible words.


    But Zakira simply smiled and stared blankly at him as if she had no idea what he just said. ¡°Sure!¡± She beamed.


    After a couple of moments of thinking it over though, it began to make sense to me. ¡°So then, take the headmaster," I said. "The people at the Guild Association said he has an affinity for Love. So, would he get stronger from any act of love shown in his presence? And they also said he''s only a half-demon. His other parent was a half-human half-high orc. So I would think it strengthens his manipulation also.¡±


    ¡°That would make him quite formidable.¡± Slate grinned excitedly once again.


    ¡°That would also explain the relaxed rules regarding relationships,¡± Amun muttered over him, causing Zakira to curiously shy away from him. She was definitely weird. She¡¯d only just met him, but she clung to him as if they were newlyweds. And Amun didn¡¯t even seem to care. Not that he seemed to care about anything. But that only made the mystery behind him much bigger. ¡°However, I¡¯m sure it goes much deeper than that.¡± He continued. ¡°The love of knowledge. Love of fighting. Of blood. Or revenge. Or even loving life. Every sentient being loves something. Even a pet rat has love for its owner. And so, his source of power is virtually limitless.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I suppose that¡¯s true.¡± Zakira nodded slowly as if she were in deep thought. Only to lean to the side to latch onto Amun¡¯s arm and pull. Screaming. ¡°Your turn!¡±

 101 - Devils Diary

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Alright, alright.¡± I gently shrugged Zakira off of me with a groan. ¡°I¡¯ll start by saying I¡¯m from Maru. From an Empire called Odissi. I was born as the royal heir to the House of Cole. We are a family of Sorcerers and the rulers of the Odissi.¡±


    ¡°So.¡± Peter shuffled in discomfort. "Winston was telling the truth? You really are the Grand Duke of Odissi.¡±


    ¡°I do not understand.¡± Slate shook his massive head between Peter, Zakira, and me.


    ¡°To put it simply.¡± I sighed. ¡°My family is the antithesis to the families of light. They are like angels who hold power over everything that is light. We are like Devils who claim dominion over everything dark. All members of my family are sorcerers of darkness as you saw earlier. But me and my great-grandfather command death. Necromancy is our birthright. And we are seen as sovereigns of both the Realm Shadows and the Underworld.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever been?!¡± Zakira eagerly stepped forward.


    ¡°I have.¡± I calmly nodded, much to Peter¡¯s horror. ¡°The souls and devils that live there run whenever they see me.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Zakira nodded and whispered in her usual way. ¡°I can feel something¡­ darker about you. But not like... edgy. You know?¡±


    ¡°M- may I ask!¡± Peter lurched forward this time. ¡°What is the Necro King like?¡±


    ¡°What have you heard about him?¡± I asked with a raised brow.


    ¡°That his army can never be defeated. And nor could he.¡± Peter grimly replied. ¡°No one knows what he¡¯s like outside of that. But everyone fears his undead. Even the Empress.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± I shrugged in an attempt to hide the devious smirk crawling up my lips. ¡°That is true. And what you said about devils is true too. But not drow. The Dark World starts ten thousand kilometers below the surface. Dragging someone down there is just too much work. It¡¯d be much easier to just kill them where they were found. As for our undead.¡± I turned my rising laughter away from Peter''s unbridled horror to look at the others. ¡°They come in two types. The undead you all know can be killed under the right circumstances. But our sorcery makes undead out of shadows. If they¡¯re defeated in battle, they can reform, at the cost of my mana. In that sense, they are immortal. But that can be defeated by first defeating me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s completely broken!¡± Elsgril slammed his meaty fist against his thigh.


    ¡°But it makes sense,¡± Slate affirmed to himself. ¡°If a family of light sorcerers exists, it would only make sense for a family of dark sorcerers to exist. I find myself surprised to hear you bear such labels. But I am impressed by the wisdom and kindness you''ve displayed. It tells me that there is much I have to learn. Please.¡± He held his giant hand out before him. ¡°Continue.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± I sighed. ¡°My sorcery comes from my father¡¯s side. My mother is the one that¡¯s drow. But I was raised in Maru. I was raised freely, but my great-grandfather also taught me how to fight. We fought to the brink of death every day for four years. Then, I took the assessment and came here.¡±


    ¡°You were trained by the Necro King.¡± Peter shuddered.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I let out a nostalgic sigh. ¡°It was¡­ extremely painful. But I have an extremely high pain tolerance now. So.¡± I shrugged to finish off my words and turned my expectant gaze to the others.


    ¡°Well, that sure is something. You''re from that family.¡± Els sighed to himself after a few long moments. ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear you''re on our team. The Gods know I wouldn¡¯t want to fight against you.¡±


    ¡°I, for one, would love to see how I fair against you.¡± Slate grinned maniacally before holding up his finger. ¡°But before that, I would like to know what you plan to do after we graduate from here.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± I snorted. ¡°I plan to form a guild and secure the blockaded continent in our realm. Then, we''re going to explore the Mortal Plane in its entirety. I plan to visit all the realms. And with my necromancy, I can speak to the dead and unearth the secrets from the ancient past.¡±


    ¡°I would like to join you.¡± He declared before Peter could voice his inevitable objections.


    ¡°Huh?¡± I shook my head at Slate. Not because I didn¡¯t want him to. Because I didn¡¯t think it¡¯d be this easy.


    ¡°It is as you said with Peter.¡± He smiled. ¡°I can see you are capable of great things. If I follow the winds that blow in your wake, I know I can face and overcome the greatest challenges one could face and learn all there is to know about these realms.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯m willing.¡± Els scratched his beard. ¡°Sure is promising, though. Your weapons are fine, but you¡¯re royalty. So, tell me. Would you help me discover the secrets of my people? Do you have an interest in the artisanal arts?¡±


    ¡°I plan to discover everything.¡± I grinned at him. ¡°We¡¯ll travel to all the realms and recover as much knowledge that was lost to history as we can. So, naturally. I''ll help you in that endeavor. You have my word. And, of course, I have an interest in such things. I''m aiming to be a Grandmaster Artificer, after all.¡±


    ¡°Then you have my word that I¡¯ll consider it.¡± He harrumphed in an affirmatory way before adding. "Heavily."


    ¡°I¡¯ll think about it too!¡± Peter leaned forward almost impulsively. Then leaned back in the next instant and seemed to shy into himself. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m still unsure of what I want to do. But, I¡¯ll think about it.¡±


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°I¡¯ll follow you anywhere, My Liege.¡± Zakira abruptly took my hand in the vice grip that was hers.


    ¡°Okay!¡± I groaned and attempted to pry my grip away from hers to no avail. ¡°At the end of the day, the choice is yours. It won¡¯t be formed for a while, at least. You don¡¯t have to tell me this now. But if you want to, well." I shrugged. "Welcome aboard.¡±


    ¡°Very well. With that, I would say our introductions were successful.¡± Slate grunted and rose to his feet. Looked at each of us with a warm smile. Then turned for the door, mumbling to himself. ¡°I¡¯m hungry.¡±


    The rest of us more or less followed the same sentiments so we trailed after him out into the common area to where the other teams were going through the same motions. Mingling with each other over snacks, drinks, and games.


    After scanning a room a bit, Slate diverged from his path to approach another of his kind, hovering over two humans sitting off to the edge of the bar-like island. After noticing our approach, the goliath stood while pulling something from his dimensional storage and held out a glass bottle full of an amber-colored drink in his rocky palms.


    ¡°My name is Kaolinite.¡± He smiled. ¡°Consider this a token representing my admiration of your courage.¡±


    ¡°Uh, thanks,¡± I reached for the liquid and held it up before my eyes. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°It is ancient water that has been squeezed from deep crevasses by the weight of a mountain and sweetened by a specific type of algae. It is known to our kind as Sweet-rock Wine.


    I took a sip and was immediately blessed by a nutty, honey tea taste and recoiled in surprise. I wasn¡¯t one for sweets, but. ¡°Damn!¡± I beamed at both him and the bottle. ¡°This is good!¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He nodded proudly.


    ¡°We were just going for our meal.¡± Slate gestured for the door. ¡°Care to join us?¡±


    ¡°Next time.¡± Kao waved. ¡°I only just returned.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± Slate continued on with another wave and we followed behind.


    At the cafeteria, I made a quick note of what everyone ate before I ordered for myself. Zakira ordered a flask of blood while Peter had a platter of rare thick steak and an assortment of vegetables. Slate and Els ordered a larger, modified version of what Peter got. A grilled cow leg and no vegetables for the Goliath, and a plate full of bread, a few mugs of mead, and a plate of seared meats that was half as large as the dwarf was.


    ¡°Now that our introductions are underway.¡± Els slurped his food. ¡°Let¡¯s say we talk about abilities, eh? I¡¯ll start.¡±


    Despite his words, he took a long moment to down his first chalice before turning his hands back to his plate to pick the meat from the bone. ¡°As ye saw, I use a war hammer and shield.¡± He smacked loudly. ¡°That means I like to fight up close and personal. Like this one.¡± He nudged Slate with his elbow.¡±


    ¡°With a claymore.¡± The Goliath affirmed with a nod. ¡°It is a simple weapon of steel. But I am quite skilled in wielding it. However, my goal is to master the usage of magic. Long ago, I read that our ancestors were said to possess powers of ice and stone. I vowed to one day master these abilities. Until then, I will use my body and sword as my weapons. I am, what the academy would call, a future Barbarian.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Els slammed his mug down. ¡°In that case, I¡¯m a Fighter in the making. But I plan to fall down the Artificer route next year as well.¡±


    ¡°Uhm.¡± Zakira hummed to herself as she tapped at her chin. ¡°I¡¯m really strong and I fight with a mace. And my magic allows me to use blood as, like, strings. I can fight anywhere, though.¡±


    ¡°Interesting." I nodded. "I have the sorcery I mentioned earlier. But I also have four other affinities, like Winston mentioned. They¡¯re Space-Time, Gravity, Electromagnetic, and Nuclear Magic. With my affinities comes a preference to fight from a distance. But I''ve been training in the martial arts for over a decade so I can fight at close and mid-ranges as well.¡±


    ¡°What are those magics, exactly?¡± Els leaned forward with a flair of insurmountable interest.


    ¡°Void magic is a step above my necromancy, which in itself is a step above my shadow sorcery. It destroys whatever it touches so it makes fights boring. Thus I use it sparingly. As for the others.¡± I sighed. ¡°I have control of both time and three-dimensional space; as well as the force that keeps our bodies tied to the ground.¡±


    ¡°Electricity is lightning, yes? Then, electromagnetism is self-explanatory.¡± The Goliath rocked in his seat. ¡°The combination of electricity and magnetism. But what of nuclear magic?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit difficult to explain.¡± I sighed again. ¡°But essentially, it''s what powers the sun and creates the natural elements. It also keeps the blocks that make up all matter held together and¡­¡± I dismissively rolled my hand. ¡°A bunch of other things.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Slate rocked again after a few moments of silence. ¡°In essence, you have the power to manipulate reality as you see fit. Not only that, but you are respectful and courageous; knowledgable and wise; I only hope you have humility as well.¡± His rocky face curled up into a smile as he raised his bottle in a toast. Then looked to Peter after the exchange was complete.


    He was a bit in shock after being silently called out but quickly recovered and put on a face of confidence. ¡°I told you my affinities before, but I have no experience in fighting or using them. But!¡± He looked at each of us with steely eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve devoted myself to training as best as I can. I promise I won''t hold any of you back.¡±


    ¡°Experience is beside the point. Aptitude is what¡¯s important. More so is the fact that you are the only one of us without the ability to see in the dark.¡± Slate curtly said to Peter. ¡°We will need to overcome this through enchantments.¡±


    ¡°We?¡± I habitually snorted.


    ¡°We are a team.¡± Slate turned to me with a flat expression. ¡°Is that a problem?¡±


    ¡°Not at all.¡± I shrugged. ¡°But we need more than just enchantments. We need to grow accustomed to each other''s abilities, we need to train and share knowledge with one another. We need to make battle formations, calls, and signals.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± The dwarf grunted.


    After holding onto my words for a moment, Slate wound down after letting out a sigh of relief ¡° I agree. That will come in due time. For now, our orientation still continues. Let us part ways for now and reunite at the dinner tomorrow.¡±


    After we all voiced our agreement, we loitered behind one another on our way back to the rooms. Along the way, I contemplated making a stop by the library but decided against the possibility of going on another bender and missing the dinner. So instead, I walked next to Zakira behind everyone else.


    In all, she was quite curious and annoying to most of the others. But her¡­ chaotic behavior was quite hilarious to me, making my vampire teammate quite a pleasant surprise. Perhaps it was because of my attitude back home, but Toril and the others were far too serious; which was another reason why I wanted them to make their own contacts. As for Zakira, her clinginess had a strong potential to become annoying over time. But it wasn¡¯t something I was tired of just yet. Aside from that, though, I knew next to nothing about her. But like everything else, that would change in due time.


    As we made our way into the courtyard, my thoughts were pulled to the ground by Zakira tugging at my arm and looking up at me with her large, red eyes. ¡°Uhm.¡± She mumbled. ¡°Do you have a girlfriend?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I coyly smiled. ¡°Do you know someone interested?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± she hummed.


    ¡°Well.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯d tell her I¡¯d have to get to know her first. And I have some ambitions that will always be most important to me. She can¡¯t be clingy either. I need my personal space, after all.¡±

 102 - Class 999

    Normally, I would never consider such things. But frankly speaking, me and Zakira were the same age. Not to mention, Corvus was a non-living testimony to the benefits of mixing our blood with a vampire''s. So with that in mind, I deemed it wise to keep her on the back burner for the not-so-off-chance of me bringing a kid into this universe- after I un-fucked it. Not only that, but I liked her as a person. What little of her I knew anyway. And, she was strong. So, like many of the others, she would prove to be a powerful asset to my Guild.


    Still, a small part of me felt bad. My actions reminded me of my old college days. Of the times I¡¯d senselessly flirting and charm my way in and out of things like a psychopath. As I expected, however, Zakira was more or less ecstatic to hear my answer and skipped off to her room before we even made it to the entrance.


    Upon returning, I found my room had changed yet again. My pillow was now placed on a raised platform on the back wall and a sunken social area had been placed in the center. A few pillows and chairs sat around a fire pit-like lantern within. Other than that, my desk, the kitchen, my bathroom, and other furnishings remained in the same place. After taking note of the changes, I stepped further into the room and paused to allow a wave of relaxation to come over me before I moved to my desk to skim through the few pamphlets I had yet to read. The grading criteria and my schedule.


    Like the assessment sponsored by the Guild Association, the Bodhi Tree measured our performance on eight metrics. Plus three more. As before, the first eight were Intelligence, Strength, Constitution, Agility, Dexterity, Combat Ability, Manipulation Mastery, and Magical Prowess. The first of the others was Charisma; which essentially boiled down to our likability. It was a measure of how we were seen in the eyes of our peers. Of how easily they listened to us and our ability to persuade both them and the teachers. Wisdom, on the other hand, basically translated to street smarts. To use an analogy, Intelligence was knowing a horse''s kick was strong. Wisdom was understanding what would happen if one stood behind a horse. Two sides of the same coin, yet inherently different. Like many things in life.


    The last one was self-explanatory. Leadership. Naturally, it encompassed things like planning tasks out and seeing them through. But it also included much much more. To put it in simple terms, a boss barked out orders and demanded things be done. A leader inspired subordinates to want to follow their orders, no matter how suicidal they were. A distinction few individuals in positions of power were aware of.


    Putting that aside, I quickly skimmed through the contents of my schedule and prepared myself to meditate the night away. As Doyle said, we¡¯d begin each week in his Magical Aptitude course and move on to Zeff¡¯s Magic Theory lectures the next day, leaving Olga¡¯s Realms Introduction course for our final block of instruction. Each day, classes would begin at 8 am. From there, our instruction would proceed without pause until lunch, at 11, which would last until 1 in the afternoon. Post-lunch, our classes would proceed as scheduled until 5, wherein we were free to do as we pleased until the next day of class.


    With my documents read through, I sat atop my small throne and closed my eyes to meditate and dream of darkness and dragons for a few hours until I rose and fashioned myself a quick breakfast. Then emerged to see Curious Twig, the Felipian, and Zakira lounging on opposite sides of the room, staring longingly out the window. Upon seeing me, Zakira brightened up and strode to my side to pull me out the door for a walk. Which turned out to be her leaning against me while I sat in the courtyard and smoked the morning away.


    We had a brief talk about Classes during the while. She felt as if the rogue path was the only option available to her. Because of her kind, I assumed. But I tried chalking up Artificers to no avail, so I told her what I intended to be instead. And she screamed her confusion into the morning in response. She claimed to understand my reasons for becoming an Artificer. But she couldn¡¯t understand why I wished to become a Monk. And, considering her earlier reaction, I didn¡¯t feel like explaining it to her. So I deflected and continued our periodical small talk through the rising sun and the migrations to and from the cafeteria. Eventually, we found ourselves lounging on a sofa and remained there for the remainder of the day. Waiting and people-watching. She remained attached to my side during the entire time. But was never close enough to interrupt my thoughts or annoy me in any way, so I let her be. Despite the curious gazes that fell on us. It seemed she simply enjoyed being in my presence. Or she felt some type of synergy with my sorcery. Either way, I let my thoughts wander until sundown came and Doyle rapped on the door to shepherd us to a formal dining area in the trunk, above the classrooms.


    Inside was a circular room with wood grain walls and marbled floors splayed in a gentle amber light. Like many other places in the Bodhi Tree, the roof was a mangled mesh of vines and branches that gave the place a sort of dream-like quality that I found quite hard to describe. The interior was dominated by a fountain placed at the center of the room, before four clusters of stunningly carved tables of arcane wood and marble that¡¯d been placed to each side of the room. As Doyle was doing for us, Olga and Zeff were also leading their parties through doors in opposing corners of the room to instruct the students to sit and wait for the Headmaster to give his speech. Which thankfully didn¡¯t take long. As he strode in with two women trailing close behind him, one with silver hair and the other with golden blonde. While they took their seats on either side of him, he remained standing and spread his arms to greet us.


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    ¡°I welcome you, Pages of Class Nine-Nine-Nine to the conclusion of your orientation.¡± He grinned. ¡°Tomorrow marks the beginning of your studies. But tonight, we feast. However.¡± He raised his pointed nail. ¡°First, you must hear some words from me, and undergo your first ritual. I will begin by introducing our staff. First.¡± He gestured to the woman to his right. She had red-brown skin with freckles and a lion''s mane of pewter curls paired with thick-rimmed glasses that magnified her perpetually stern gaze. ¡°Our Assistant Headmaster, Mallory Monet.¡±


    For whatever reason, Doyle and the other teachers erupted in applause after her introduction, prompting a majority of the students to follow suit while the Headmaster continued. ¡°To my left is the Bodhi Tree¡¯s Head Witch, Felicity Licht.¡±


    Not that I could, but I didn¡¯t even need to feel her magic to know she was from a family of light. Her hair was almost a radiant blonde. And so to were her eyes, which were filled with expectant hope as she beamed at the crowd of young faces.


    ¡°The rest of the staff are as you know them.¡± Headmaster Knagh continued. ¡°Some of you may be concerned about the number of staff we have on hand. But I assure you, each of us you see here has been adequately trained for the job. It is because of this and the relatively small size of our classes that we are able to put more care toward the individual student. This is part of what makes the Bodhi Tree the best institute for higher learning in all of the realms. The fifty-five of you are the best in all the known realms. As such, there is no tolerance for bullying or unruly behavior within these grounds. Problems are to be solved through dueling or words. And nothing else.


    ¡°Now. With that out of the way, we can move on to the second-most important event of the night.¡± He boisterously chuckled to himself before turning his gaze to the ceiling and sending out some unsensed command to the mangled ceiling. In response to his order, the glowing vines unraveled and unfurled before descending to the sea of bulging eyes and wide grins. At their ends were strange wooden bowls, almost like the bowls of the Monkey Cup plant, only made of wood and filled with glowing green syrup.


    ¡°What you hold is the Bodhi Tree''s sap.¡± The Headmaster ceremoniously monologued. ¡°In this state, it is like a magical flower in liquid form. Unpollenated and destined to die without this ritual. By drinking its contents, the sap will first be materialized by your magical signature and undergo fertilization from your Spiritual Body, and the resulting ovary shall grow into the fruits of your labor by year¡¯s end. So, go, young Pages! Drink!¡± The Headmaster thrust his arms upwards in cheer. ¡°Eat! Party on this night to your heart''s content and begin the first step down the path to greatness in earnest!¡±


    Upon his order, many of the students including myself upturned our bowls into our mouths. But only after hearing Zakira crack a joke about making babies. It tasted¡­ dangerously sweet but also hellishly spicy. Like honey and brown sugar had been mixed with the essence of the hottest hot sauce balanced with a sip of acid. Still, it was almost addictive. Like how blood was for vampires, I assumed. I wanted to keep drinking and drinking it and lick the bowl once it was gone. I wanted to, up until the burning fire spreading inside forced me to pull my eyes within.


    With my mana vision, I saw what could only be described as a parasite writhing through my spiritual body. A worm or perhaps centipede, weaving in and out of my affinity cores and Mana Well as if it were a ghost. Or half a ghost, I realized as the moments passed and its body began to change. With each circuit through my spiritual body and each pass through my magical organs, the transparent eel-like creature the sap solidified into took on a darker and darker hue as if it were absorbing energy from my Void Core. Only that darkness and a sort of aura were the only attributed types of mana that I could sense within it. And it wasn¡¯t even void mana. Nor was it death or shadow mana. It somehow felt more¡­ wicked. Sinister. Like something from the Under. And the aura was like a golden brilliance unlike the light produced by my electromagnetic or nuclear magics. It was a dense type of energy of the likes of which I never felt before. And from its radiance around the black mass of the parasite, it looked just like the annular of a solar eclipse back on Earth.


    And my mark.


    ¡®What-¡¯ I began to ask myself. Only to lunge forward and almost collapse from the intensity of a feeling I hadn¡¯t felt in years. Nausea. Thankfully, it wasn¡¯t just me. Every student in the room was doubled over like I was. Spreading the horrid sounds of vomiting through the room. And knowing it was my turn, I prepared myself for the worst.


    I always hated throwing up and this time was no different. But what came out of my mouth certainly caught my eye. It was a wilted sack that looked a lot like a dried-up fig; among other things. Like the eel, however, my acclaimed ovary had purplish-black skin and emitted the same brilliant radiance around the rim. But before I could lean in further for a closer look, the vines whisked my and everyone else''s bucket away into the ceiling, wherein the Headmaster guided the rest of the staff in a thunderous round of applause.


    ¡°I am sure you all have many questions.¡± He smiled at us once the noise died down. ¡°I assure you that they shall be answered in the coming weeks. For now, I implore you to eat to your heart¡¯s content and make contact with your peers. Once the call is made, you may leave whenever you so wish.¡± With a final bow, he settled into his seat, prompting the sea of heads to swivel around to the nearest console and order whatever they fancied.


    I, for one, ordered a steaming pile of pasta and endured a bit of small talk with the other members of my party. Save Winston and Urshure, who respectively brooded silently and dug into their plate without remorse. In that time, I managed to pair names and faces with everyone in my party and even a few from the others until the Headmaster called the dismissal and half the room rose to go our separate ways.

 103 - Page One

    ¡®It''s about fucking time.¡¯ I rose from my seat with a groan and strode out of the common area with Zakira tailing just behind me. I had woken up, eaten breakfast, smoked and smoked some more, and waited around for 8 to roll around. And finally, it was here.


    It was an understatement to say I was excited to learn what the academy kept behind its walls. And so too was the rest of my party, as we were essentially traveling as a mob to Doyle¡¯s classroom. Inside- or outside, rather, was another district-sized pocket of earth, surrounded on most sides by the towering root structure of the Bodhi Tree. Just through the threshold, however, the ground was tiled and shaded by an A-frame roof to provide space for twenty desks to face a large work surface cluttered with paper and ashtrays.


    While he took roll, I did a bit of ocular exploration and saw that, first, Doyle¡¯s court was huge. The center of the space was dominated by an elevated central arena, ringed by tall bleachers. Beyond that was a zone of relatively unclaimed land sitting between the racquetball court-like stalls repeating along the outer rim. And the ambient mana was back at full strength in this area, much to Peter¡¯s visible discomfort.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Doyle slapped his clipboard on his desk and stood before us. ¡°Welcome to your Magical Aptitude Training Course. Here, you¡¯ll learn how to take care of yourselves in the greater realms. There are many beings and creatures out there that will cause you trouble during your travels. It¡¯s up to me to prepare you as much as possible so you¡¯ll survive those encounters and live to see others. It¡¯s also up to me to train you in accordance with the classes you¡¯ll pick next year. But we¡¯ll gut that pig at the market.¡± He seemed to chuckle at his joke before looking around at the mute students and taking in a sigh of disappointment.


    ¡°To put it simply.¡± He rebounded with a grin. ¡°The purpose of my class is to train your combative skills in magic and might. Regardless of what you do or where you go, as Ranked Mystics and alumni of the Bodhi Tree, you need to be able to protect not only yourselves but the people around you at all times. My class is the first step to getting each of you there. For this first week, the focus will be on learning your limits with and without magic. Once you understand that, you¡¯ll be putting that knowledge into practice as you learn the basics of magical combat throughout the rest of the quarter. We¡¯ll put putting that knowledge to use in the second quarter, so make sure you train hard. Because each of you will be challenged in the mid-year matches.¡± He grinned excitedly. ¡°But I don¡¯t want to spoil the surprise.¡± He waved it off a moment later. ¡°By the second half of the year, you all should more or less know what Classes you wish to take up. So the focus then will be on adapting to those styles.


    ¡°As such, today¡¯s agenda is an aptitude test.¡± His grin widened as he pointed to the stalls lining the complex. ¡°I¡¯m sure you all read the metrics on which you¡¯re graded.¡± He turned back to us. ¡°We¡¯ll be gauging all but intelligence for the first half of the day. After lunch, we''ll test your endurance. You don¡¯t need to worry about me being present to monitor your progress, the tree itself will document everything and share it with only you. But I¡¯ll be nearby to give out any pointers if needed. So, if there are no questions, pick a station and get started.¡±


    I was one of the first ones to pry myself from my seat and walk off to the furthest end of the compound. Mostly as a way to survey the rest of the area, but also as a means to separate myself from the other teams. As far as mine went, I paid little mind to everyone but Peter. In this dense mana, he was still struggling, but as he said, he was pushing himself to not drag us down. But I was sure he had other reasons as well.


    With that out of my mind, I stepped past the threshold of my alcove and felt my eyes bulge after seeing the space distort before my eyes. As if I''d used my magic, the hundred meters of space before the wall stretched into a distant track filled with writing vines, stumps, and tree trunks.


    ¡®Is this¡­ from the tree?¡¯ I asked myself. ¡®Or the headmaster?¡¯


    Knowing I was wasting daylight, I tossed my questions aside for later and began walking down a worn path toward a wooden sign placed before eight large boulders.


    [Use power or ingenuity to destroy the boulders. First with your natural strength. And then with each of your abilities.]


    "Sounds simple enough." I shrugged on approach to the first stone. And, half-knowing the outcome, I reached back and punched the boulder with what little power I had.


    The result didn''t even crack the stone, yet left my hand nearly mangled. After healing, I sat for a moment and debated using a tool or making a pulley to lift and break the stone. But there was nothing around me tall enough to lift in the first place, and it¡¯d take me days to break a big boulder into a pile of stone. So I moved on to the next boulder and spawned a mass of Shade Tendrils around the base. Then sat back and watched them writhe around its surface. Crushing and grinding it into a small hill of chunks and pebbles. Under the influence of Necrotic Decay, the next boulder met a similar fate. Yet, I couldn¡¯t help but feel underwhelmed. I¡¯d long since grown proficient with those spells from my time training and executing with Grandpa Lich. So, with that in mind, I moved on to the next with a different mindset.


    But I also looked around me and thought. About this tree and how it coincided with the mark on my chest. I thought about the void within me. And about the seed I regurgitated last night. With all those thoughts compiled in my head, I merged them with the mass of void mana gathered in my hand and struck the boulder with an open palm.


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    When I stepped back, I saw a small palm-sized jewel of emptiness on the stone¡¯s surface. It was like space itself had been erased in that spot alone. But then, it began to move. Snakes and tendrils of the energy began¡­ reaching. Carving in and under the boulder¡¯s surface at a panicking rate until it reached the other side. Causing the stone to lose its integrity and fall into the branches and trunk that sprouted from the Void Seed. When all was done, the void remained suspended in space like it always was. If I left it, it¡¯d keep destroying the air around it until it formed a vacuum that threatened to swallow everything. Since the beginning, that was the reason I always dispelled it quickly after. But this was the time to do things differently. So I reached my hand out to the void and let it flow within me.


    And when it did I felt¡­ nothing.


    Like when I tasted poison. There was no reaction or effect from it. Not even an appearance from my grimoire. ¡°That''s bullshit!" I spat a little too loudly. Rightfully so. I expected at least something. But nothing was ever within my realm of possibilities, foolishly so. Thus this outcome wound up adding dozens of questions to the already endless list of questions regarding the void. But I had other things to worry about. Namely, four more boulders and possibly dozens of more tests. So I dutifully approached the last boulder and used Body Swap to spatially displace it a few meters away and watched it explode in a cloud of dust after becoming superimposed with air.


    For the next boulder, I decided to copy Toril and charged electricity into my hands before thrusting them out in a concussive wave. It was more than enough to send a shower of pebbles cascading down the track. But I still couldn¡¯t get over the ridiculous name Toril gave the technique. Thunder Wall. Nomenclature aside, I moved on to cast a gravitation spell I conceived long ago, Roche Spread. To start, I flicked a Gravity Bullet at the boulder to lift it into the air, then send out twin Artificial Wells on opposing sides of the boulder. Within seconds, the tidal forces saw the boulder rip itself into a band of large stones. In a way, it was beautiful. Like Saturn¡¯s Rings. Only, brown and gray and poised behind a blue sky. But beautiful all the same. I made sure to capture a few images in my Eternal Eye before letting it fall gently to the ground. Then moved on to use my radiation magic to enact a little nuclear transmutation to unceremoniously change the stone into iron.


    The next station was a lot more simple in nature and only grew simpler as time went on. After walking a dozen or so meters, I came to an all-too-familiar sight. A painted target was placed ten meters away from a basket filled with palm-sized stones. I didn¡¯t need to read the sign to begin in full earnest, only managing to achieve anything notable with my Shadow, Gravity, and Space-Time magics. After that, I was tasked with lifting a heavy stone and carrying it a few meters. A task I struggled with on all but a few fronts. The others, however, I excelled at.


    The agility assessment consisted of a simple sprint, standing jump, and long jump. Things that many of my magics couldn¡¯t even aid me in. Not that I needed them to go through the course with ease. The last exercises, however, were undoubtedly my favorite. Like I did during the Association¡¯s Assessment, I was tasked with dodging a shower of sharp acorns as best I could and scaling a wall before dropping over the other side. The addition of magic made it all the more exciting. Which made me skip through the rest of the stations at a pace faster than I otherwise would have.


    Dexterity was tested in a similar way as agility. Only, dull sticks and hollowed rocks were sent flying my way so that I could catch or deflect them at an ever-increasing pace. Following that, I was handed weapons one at a time and tasked with attacking and defending against an animated wooden dummy. Daggers, swords, spears, axes, hammers. All the common weaponry one could think of spawned from the growth near the wall and disappeared in much the same manner. Including bows, crossbows, and; interestingly of all, a relatively short pipe stuffed with a stone and filled with a volatile powder.


    It was just before lunchtime when I came upon the last station. Elemental Mastery. That said, the tasks were simple. Allowing ample time to give my all for each one.


    My hold over fire was measured by a thick steel rod that I needed to heat. I supposed I cheated, mixing in a little bit of air manipulation as I focused a torch on the center. But nothing happened and nothing was said, so I continued heating the rod until started bending under its own weight. Water was done by drawing groundwater up to the surface. A relatively simple task, if one I¡¯ve never attempted to try before. Similarly, I was asked to draw a one-meter square of dirt into the tallest pillar I could muster before being tasked with blowing a boulder across the ground.


    Upon completion, I turned to see the space behind me distorting. Warping. Shrinking while the vines once again writhed and slithered away into the walls until I found myself standing on the threshold of my alcove. Staring at most of the class gathered around Doyle.


    He dismissed us for lunch not long after me and a few stragglers arrived. After spending lunch with Zakira to continue our talk of the Hells, we were back in the complex to test our endurance in the most direct way possible. We sparred against the wooden dummies until we collapsed from exhaustion. And after catching our breaths, we sparred again. For two hours. To test our magical endurance, Doyle studied us with a manic grin as we emptied our Wells over and over until we succumbed to mana fatigue and shuffled to the seats to rest for the remainder of the period.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Doyle clapped to gather everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°I hope you all understand what your limits are. This is invaluable knowledge going forward, so hold on to it and remember to test yourself in similar ways periodically. Our next class will be more formal, for the most part.¡± He chuckled to himself. ¡° We¡¯ll start with a demonstration of the species-specific abilities present in your party. Then we''ll move on to measure your minimum and maximum power output. We¡¯ll close before lunch with a short lecture on the different Classes and the fighting styles associated with them. After lunch, you¡¯ll use that knowledge to pick fighting styles and choose weapons for yourselves if you haven¡¯t already.


    ¡°Now.¡± He scanned his eyes across us. ¡°Any questions, comments, or concerns?¡±


    A short period of silence ensued before a single hand rose from the crowd. Like many of us, my eyes fell on a freckled face staring back at Doyle with a disgruntled frown.


    ¡°Yes, Winston?¡± Doyle nodded to him.


    Without removing his eyes from Doyle, Winston¡¯s arm fell over to point at me just before he spat. ¡°I would like to challenge Amun to a duel.¡±

 104 - First Day

    ¡°I must admit, I was peeking during our class. You hold powerful magic. I am eager to see the outcome of your duel.¡±


    I looked up from my not-quite French onion soup to see Kaolinite standing next to Slate. smiling as if it were his birthday.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I nodded at him and fell back into my soup without another word. ¡°But there¡¯s more to magic than just innate power. And even I have a weakness.¡±


    ¡°Wise. Humble too.¡± Kao harrumphed before gesturing to the seat before me. ¡°May I?¡±


    I silently nodded my admiration and breathed a sigh of relief as they started chatting amongst themselves. To ensure it lasted, I started playing as if I were exhausted after emptying my Well over and over again in class. Which I was, but not to the extent that I displayed. Luckily, neither of them seemed to pay me any mind as I rose from the table to head off to the dorms.


    A quick smoke later and I was in my room, slumped atop my pillow with my mail strewn across my desk.


    I awoke from a blissful sleep around one-thirty and waddled to my desk to scan the contents of my mailbox from last night. Textbooks for Zeff and Olga¡¯s courses.


    In all, there were five of them. Though, much to my frustration, an attached label told me they¡¯d been enchanted to fill out upon the completion of our lessons or other various tasks. As such, they were mainly for review. Besides Olga¡¯s textbook, we were given a bestiary, herbarium, and a rockhounding log that were similarly enchanted to be blank. In them, a new entry would be made whenever we studied, killed, or butchered a specimen in the Wilds. While empty, each of them had different chapters and sub-sections for the different realms and biomes, power levels, and uses for each item, which suggested to me that we¡¯d be keeping these tomes for life.


    It was obvious they didn¡¯t want students like me to learn the material on their own and attempt to skip class, leading me to believe there were just as many, if not more practical exercises given alongside these lectures that they didn¡¯t want us to miss.


    With that out of the way, I moseyed outside to sit with Zakira and smoke while I recounted the orientation and my first day at the Bodhi Tree. It went without saying, but I became a skeptic of the academy after first hearing about it when I was younger. But, as they say, hindsight is 20-20. As far as I understood it, it wasn¡¯t that the Academy kept their knowledge secret. It was simply inaccessible to the rest of Maru and worthless to most members of society. Even those who sought the power of the divine tree had to cross a sea that was light minutes in radius or otherwise find a divine tree. Then they had to drink its sap, and I was sure only the Headmaster could make it to produce the stuff.


    However, that also spurred questions. Namely revolving around the notion that every guild had a divine tree. If that were the case, the fact that I never heard of Grandpa Lich or Emperor Deapou having one was a gaping plot hole. That said, Grandpa Azrael did mention Grandpa Lich disbanded his military after his death. And he was infamous for his undead armies; a guild in and of itself, essentially. Besides, there was much of Odissi that I never saw. And I never even stepped foot in Deapou until my awakening.


    But I digress.


    What I now knew about the academy was beyond my expectations. The Tree itself was something to marvel at, but the spaces inside it truly astounded me. Never had I seen an instance of magic that even resembled spatial magic. But here it was at the academy. In nearly every room and hall. More so, I expected either rampant bullying and bad behavior or painfully uptight rules to be found in excess. Instead, I got a pleasant middle ground. It was essentially a magical university. And since we were considered adults, we could smoke and drink as we pleased. In the designated areas, of course. On top of that, it was a veritable gold mine of knowledge. Doyle¡¯s class surely impressed me. But I couldn¡¯t help but anticipate our lessons later today.


    Unfortunately, though, it wasn¡¯t even sunrise. So I did as I always did and fell down the rabbit hole of pondering the things I knew.


    And the things I thought I knew.


    At the forefront of my mind were two things. Anti-Magic and the Void.


    The former was present all around us. In every room. In every hall. Even the weakest of my spells would revert to unattuned mana and absorb into the walls and floors the moment I began to cast. I was unsure if it was because of the Bodhi Tree itself, but I knew of only one material capable of such an effect as of yet. That said, I couldn¡¯t sense or see any Negstone lining the walls or floor, removing my assumption that it was almost constantly surrounding us.


    While I had no answers, I still questioned the nature of the anti-magic I¡¯d seen thus far. Particularly its effects. Because of the assessment, I wasn¡¯t able to test the little ring they gave us. I could only take note of its physical features and learn what little I could as I took it on and off. I knew that I couldn¡¯t store it in my Shadow Pocket and it absorbed any spell just like the walls here. Yet it didn''t change the spells that upped my strength and constitution, just like these here halls. But that was all. I only wore it for the physical assessment and my fight against Velasco. And it wasn¡¯t as if I was trying to use my abilities in either of those situations.


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    And then there was the void. Which, in a sense, also had anti-magic properties. It nullified whatever it touched. Albeit via destruction. But there was still one unanswered question revolving around the power. Its nature.


    For that, I had four hypotheses. The first and most basic theory was that it was nothingness in the form of energy. It was emptiness, entropy, and it erased anything it touched.


    The second theory was that it was Alpha and Omega in a malleable form. The magical representation of both the emptiness that persisted before the big bang and the void that eventually claims all universes once the stars die and their corpses dim down.


    The third was that it was like the intergalactic voids in deep space. Spaces like the Bootes Void. A space 165 million light-years in radius with only 60 known galaxies. While relatively empty of matter, such voids were filled with electromagnetic radiation and brimming with dark energy, the energy hypothesized to be responsible for the acceleration of the universe¡¯s expansion.


    My last theory was that it was akin to a type of antimatter. Or rather, its ability was to overstep entropy and get a hundred percent of the energy contained in a piece of matter. It was the magical form of Einstein¡¯s famous equation. Wherein energy was equal to mass times c, the speed of light in a vacuum, squared. With it being 299,792,458 meters per second; or 186,282 miles per second in the broken unit of measurement, any number multiplied and squared with the speed of light equates to immense quantities of energy. The problem was, something like a combustion engine would have the majority of that energy lost to entropy. Mostly in the form of heat. But something like antimatter, or potentially the void, would bypass that, resulting in a one hundred percent conversion of matter to energy.


    Or that''s what I assumed. But my experiment from Doyle¡¯s class made me think otherwise.


    Regardless of what it was, my sorcery undoubtedly made whatever it touched something different upon being reabsorbed. A fact containing several questions. Notably about the differences between my sorcery and my magic. According to what I¡¯ve learned, the former stemmed from my physical body while the latter resided in my spiritual body, with my Mana Well. Yet, the fact that I still had a Void Core and bled red blood seemed to contradict such knowledge. So I took a few hours to play with the shadows in the common area for a few hours, much to Zakira''s amusement.


    I learned that while I couldn¡¯t pull darkness from my body in this environment, I could grab hold of the shadows around me and do with them as I pleased. In a way, it was like elemental manipulation or my ability to cast with mana without using my own; which I could also do with ease in this environment. Thus in a sense, my sorcery was closer to a physical ability when compared to my other magics. All of my spells were unaffected by this anti-magic, though they required much more focus to mold the shadows into the desired shape. An interesting trade-off. But not enough to roam through the Hells as I pleased.


    With around two and a half hours left until the start of class, Zakira and I got a quick bite to eat before taking part in some amiable exploration. It was the only bad part of the academy. I learned that during orientation. Getting used to the schedule was one thing. But I quickly realized I¡¯d need to find a productive means to spend my spare time. Of which I had an abundance. I could¡¯ve spent it in the library, I assumed. But I wanted an entire day for that endeavor and I¡¯ve spent too much time away from my regular training, so I elected to spend the time in the gym instead. Without enough time left before class though, I decided to give the place a quick look-see and come back after class.


    The first thing I noticed after stepping through the entrance was the wall that acted as a sort of barrier to the gym. It was in an ice-like density, like the mana outside. But the contrast between the Maru-like mana inside the halls compared to what was in there was surprising. Even for me. Though I shouldn¡¯t have been surprised, I supposed. With it being a gym and all. And what a gym it was.


    Like many parts of the labyrinth of roots, the gym was much larger than would seem possible when viewed from the outside. Sure, the surrounding structure penetrated deep beneath the ground and extended far beyond the clouds. But the spaces inside were absurdly large all the same. The layout itself, however, was¡­ strange. Like any gym, rows, and rows of seats surrounded a rectangular court in the center that¡¯d been walled off from the stands by enchanted glass panels. And while almost no one was on the floor, the desked seats were nearly full of students.


    I found a quiet place to sit and had my attention stolen by a frame of stems rising from the surface of my desk like a hidden screen. Which was exactly what it was, I soon learned. An enchanted monitor that allowed us to spectate the students training in the gym. For a price, of course. While we could see through the numerous points of view placed throughout the complex for free, we could also spend twenty-five points to spectate anyone not on our team but in our party. And fifty points to spectate anyone in another party. Things I had no particular interest in at the moment, though it did give me reservations. But those too were put aside in favor of studying the magnificent display of architecture before me.


    While the central floor was a barren but large glassed court, it served as the base of an inverted pyramid that rose and widened to encompass the entirety of the ceiling above us. From what I could see through the glass and my screen, each floor of the pyramid contained a different biome, each bigger than the one before it. At its base was your ordinary gym floor. But a hole in the ceiling would give the occupants access to the mock city above. The town resembled something you could see anywhere. Forests and farmlands surrounded the perimeter, giving way to huts and houses and estates and manors until one arrived at the castle at the center. While vast, it was nothing compared to the expansive jungle placed above it. It had almost twice the surface area and seemed to be designed with vertical combat in mind. The same principle applied to the fourth floor. There, the only piece of land was a central platform that gave access to the area. The rest was a vast, deep pool of temperate water. The fifth floor was a vast, mountainous desert that gave me the impulse to go inside and fly around for hours. And the sixth and most spacious floor was a seemingly endless tundra that reminded me of home.


    With only a little time remaining before class, I decided to think about the approach I should take in my upcoming duel against Winston. I wasn¡¯t dumb enough to underestimate anyone. As such, I planned to deal with this problem as quickly and efficiently as possible.


    And therein left only a few tactics to use.

 105 - Tales From Ye Olden Days

    After a few minutes of sitting and contemplating my duel, the time finally came for the mass of students to migrate toward the door. Despite my eagerness, however, I held back for a few minutes to let the crowd die down before skipping around the hub to Zeff¡¯s classroom. Only to skip back to Doyle¡¯s classroom after Zakira reminded me of the roll call.


    Frankly speaking, it was a system I wasn¡¯t used to. When I was growing up in old America, our homeroom teacher was our first teacher of the day. But that was just an empty title. The secretaries in the main office made announcements over the intercom and every teacher took their own roll call. We were free to roam about campus in between classes and be tardy on our own accord. And there was no class leader. University was much the same no matter where I went. Only, the teachers treated us like adults.


    Some of them, at least.


    Here, though, we were to meet with the same teacher in the same spot every day, regardless of what classes we were having. Our teacher would take attendance for the day before releasing us to our studies. A wildly inefficient practice, I felt. But I wasn¡¯t the one in charge so I just ran with it. Besides, the classrooms were in close proximity to one another. So I supposed it wasn¡¯t all bad. But it would surely take some getting used to.


    ¡°Good morning, everyone!¡± Zeff greeted us with a wave once we entered his classroom. Which was more along the lines of what I expected. There were no paintings or windows to serve as potential distractions. Only bookshelves and blackboards were found outside of his ostentatiously pristine desk.


    Ours, on the other hand, were both constructed and arranged similarly to Doyle¡¯s. Only, they were larger, padded, and reclined. They even had cup holders. Giving me the strong impression that our Magical Theory teacher was quite the talker. Which was like music to my ears. So I happily sauntered forward to plant myself in the first row.


    Zeff was a curious man. He seemed like a mix between dwarf and halfling, but also neither. He had no beard or facial hair other than some black scruff occasionally lining his square face. He seemed as rugged and well-built as Doyle, yet was dressed in fine silks and leathers and had his lavender-black hair combed to have a prominent part running down the right side.


    ¡°Welcome to your class in the Theory of Magic.¡± He beamed with a flourishing bow. ¡°Here, we will explore all things mystic and arcane, mighty and martial. I, Zeff Yurich, will share with you all I know about these things. All that I¡¯ve learned of spells. All that I understand of magic. All you need to do is listen. And put this knowledge to practice in the classroom of my peer.¡±


    After a short pause, he bounced on his feet with a loud and thunderous clap. Shaking almost half the class in their seats for no reason at all. ¡°Now then.¡± He continued with an amiable smile. ¡°The syllabus is as follows. On this day, our course will start with a history lesson. After lunch, our lessons will continue with the first part of a lecture on mana. That lecture will conclude in our next class, where we will go through a short lecture on Class Evolution. Next week will mark the start of this quarter¡¯s focus. ''The Basics of Mana Molding and Spell Casting.'' The intermediate level of the same course will be the focus in the following quarter. And each one after will be focused on spell development.


    ¡°Now then! On to our lecture.¡± He clapped again, trigging a similar response from a shallower pool of students. ¡°Across the explored realms of Nonus and Maru, there is little knowledge regarding the state of Maru prior to year zero. However, we have since come to learn that sentient species from across the Mortal Plane had little to no existence of one another prior to the opening of the portals. You all know of the four realms!¡± He said with a thrust of his arms towards the ceiling. Then watched all of our eyes bulge at the sight of a colorized and, for the most part, highly detailed map of the Mortal Plane appearing on the ceiling.


    In his long pause, I took a quick study of the puny group of islands that represented Maru, disconnected from the other realms by a foggy ocean of mind-boggling proportions.


    ¡°Within each realm exists a different Tree of Life.¡± Zeff continued. ¡°Each Tree is unique and birthed the progenitors of the creatures that dwell within their realms. By spreading, evolving, and mutating, these creatures have changed over time to an almost infinite degree. But several species across the Mortal Plane have remained unchanged since time immemorial. Today, they have become synonymous with the different realms. The demons and vampires of Vagua. The dragons and Dragonborne of Nonus. The orcs and goblinoids of Betrarth. The Humanoids from Maru. The Fae of Youtera. And from beyond the White Wall, Giants.


    "Back then, most of these species had little-to-no knowledge of the other''s existence. The Fae, demons, dragons, and giants were the only exceptions. But when the portals opened, everyone became aware. On that fateful day!¡± He clapped again. ¡°Rifts in space spontaneously appeared in the most densely populated regions across the realms. In Maru, those regions were concentrated on a continent called Ulai.¡± He slapped the small dots above with a long pointer stick. ¡°Perhaps as a result of both the portals and the influx of mana resulting from them, the generations of Maruleans that followed were born with gifts that allowed them to use higher forms of magic. What we today call affinity cores. But the price which we paid for them was conflict.


    ¡°Blood!¡± He clapped. ¡°Within only a century, the Marulean continent of Ulai was lost. Deemed a dead zone by those who inhabited it. That marked the start of a long war that persisted for well over a thousand years. A conflict waged against both Maruleans and those they deemed ¡®monsters.¡¯ Yet, pioneers looked past that and began to explore the other realms shortly after they became open, intending to construct settlements within them. In the following centuries, Maru saw much progress and many losses.¡± He paced to the other side of his desk with a heavy sigh. ¡°In the year one-twenty-five, an organization was formed to enable those with great martial or magical ability to band together and explore as militias with little-to-no ties to any existing nations. But that is not to say these individuals were mercenaries. They were pioneers. Adventurers. Protectors of Maru.


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    ¡°This is the organization that would come to be known as the Marulean Guild Association. After its formation, they directed the guilds in retaking their lost lands and fortifying the lands they left in their wake. A tradition each guild upholds to this day.¡± He beamed with pride. ¡°By the turn of the fifth century, the Marulean continents had been stabilized. New Dawn, Maru¡¯s largest guild, paved most of the way and pushed through the portals to make settlements on the other sides. Nonus was settled first, in four-twelve, followed by Vagua some four years later; although the settlement was abandoned just two years after that. A similar fate met those who ventured beyond the White Wall, although a permanent settlement in Betrarth was declared three years later, in four-twenty-one. And... every attempt at Youtera was... unsuccessful. Thus it was quickly deemed a lost cause.


    ¡°As the century came to an end, however, all of their settlements were abandoned in favor of the one in Nonus.¡± He pointed to the sole peninsula jutting out from Nonus¡¯ side of the oceanic ring separating Maru from everything else. ¡°In the year four-eighty-six, all guilds associated with New Dawn relocated to Nonus, giving rise to the Polaris Empire. And they have been expanding on Nonus ever since. It didn¡¯t take long for them to venture to this here peninsula, however.¡± He grinned wide. ¡°Here, they found Headmaster Knagh and came to an agreement to build a bridge of light to Maru and create a place where Maruleans, the Children of Polaris, and denizens from the realms beyond could come to learn what was lost to Maru: Class Evolution. An ability that lies dormant in all things. The agreement was made in the year four-eighty-eight. And in the year four-ninety-one, the Bodhi Tree saw its first class of students.


    ¡°As the years passed, the Polaris Empire continued forming peace in Nonus while conflict persisted in Maru. With the powerhouse that was New Dawn out of the picture, other guilds took the opportunity to rise to power and seize control of the other portals. Conflicts arose over the course of decades until the year five-thirty-five when the Guild Wars officially commenced.¡± He declared. ¡°Such a war wouldn¡¯t see its end until seven-eighty-two when much of what existed in Ulai and the other continents had been destroyed. But as always.¡± He smiled. ¡°Maru reconstructed and came upon a period of peace by the ninth century. During that time there was little conflict between the existing nations. There was only the ongoing battle against the creatures pouring in through the portals.


    ¡°From then on, history remained uneventful until the turn of the millennium. When every realm saw their portals to Youtera vanish before their eyes.¡± He said in a dramatically airy tone. ¡°It was clear they had unearthed the secret behind manipulating the portals. Yet they shared it with no one. They kept it to themselves until the year twelve-thirty-two. When the renowned Magus¡¯, Jamettus Deapou and Everandus Cole discovered them on what is now known as Deapou Island, in Maru.¡± He slapped his stick atop my homeland with a glance toward me. ¡°For their tact in making contact with the elves when none could; of being the first to learn from them and sharing that learned knowledge with the Bodhi Tree and the Guild Association, the two were promoted to the rank of Magus, sealing their names in history as the Iron Magus and the Necro King.¡±


    ¡®So more or less that checks out.¡¯ I rocked back in amusement. In Grandpa Lich''s words, the elves came to them when they arrived. At the same time, however, what Zeff said was true. Those two surely had the power to keep the knowledge for themselves. That spoke volumes. But what was truly curious was the fact that I¡¯d never even considered him keeping it to himself. I supposed it was because I knew his character well enough to know that he wouldn¡¯t. But it was still a curiosity, to say the least.


    ¡°As many of you know.¡± Zeff continued. ¡°The knowledge humanity gained was invaluable, as it was this knowledge that allowed the humans born without affinity cores to gain their own. But the core awakening ceremony is but a fraction of the knowledge those two legendary men bestowed upon us. Mana Well Assimilation and Divine Aphids are uncommonly known, but invaluable pieces of knowledge for humanity.¡± He paused to lean forward and give us a charming smile. ¡°But I will explain both concepts in due time.


    "Now!¡± He clapped. ¡°Like many times throughout history, this new knowledge brought great changes to Maru. But not without challenges. First, Maru was no longer the only home to humanoids. And in the coming years, an individual by the name of James Epeth sealed the entire continent of Ulai behind a barrier, making his name known as a Magus. The result was the liberation of the Marulean realm from the invaders that plagued them for so long. They were, for the first time since the portals opened, in a state of peace. But the price was the loss of a continent and the loss of contact with every nation that settled beyond the portals.


    ¡®Tch. Liberation my ass.¡¯ I scoffed inside.


    ¡°While Marulean recorded history has always been tumultuous.¡± He continued. ¡°The Bodhi Tree¡¯s mission has always been to train Pages and encourage them to travel across the realms and reconnect with those scattered pockets of humanity and give them the knowledge given to us by those great men. But.¡± He sighed. ¡°The only portals that have been found in Nonus thus far lead to Betrarth and, of course, Maru. And few make the venture to the former."


    ¡°And with that, my lecture is complete.¡± He let out a weary sigh before snapping his neck back to us. ¡°Any questions?


    ¡°How was it so easy for the colonizers to secure the portal in Nonus?¡± Slate asked.


    ¡°An excellent question!¡± Zeff beamed. ¡°The ambient levels of the other worlds; particularly of Maru, were far too low for the majority of Nonusian inhabitants. As such, they simply had no interest in journeying to the other side. That said, it was hardly easy. Reginald Morningstar, New Dawn¡¯s guild master and the first Emperor of Polaris had to slay a dragon to secure it.¡±


    ¡°Understood. Thank you.¡± He curtly nodded. Meanwhile, I heard a contemptuous snort come from the dragonborne across the way.


    ¡°Of course.¡± Zeff nodded, then looked around at the rest of the class. ¡°Anyone else?¡±


    ¡°Very well!¡± He clapped again. ¡°We¡¯ll continue with our lecture on mana after lunch. Dismissed!¡±

 106 - What is Mana?

    ¡°Now!¡± Zeff clapped once we settled in our seats, prompting a few to nearly jump out of them. ¡°What is mana?¡±


    A few people rose their hands with the obvious answers. A type of energy found in all things, the power source of spells and magic, as well as others. But whatever they were, he listened with an amiable smile before taking a dramatic nod. ¡°All good answers. But frankly, the answer is that we don¡¯t know. And by ¡®we,¡¯ I mean everyone but the Fae.¡± He paused to chuckle to himself before continuing. ¡°What we know is that Mana is a type of radiation with material properties that both acts and reacts with matter, life, and conscious will; in that order; giving rise to magical materials, evolved creatures, and magic. Whatever it¡¯s used for, it is what allows us to manipulate the very laws of reality. With it, we can make the impossible, possible. We can create mountains and oceans from nothing and create life where there is none.


    ¡°That is what we call mana.¡± He beamed fanatically. ¡°And its study continues to this day. Thus, as far as we know, it could be something else entirely. Through years of both conflict and study, however, we¡¯ve managed to learn how mana interacts with the sentient species of these realms- the topic of today¡¯s lecture.


    ¡°It begins with the most basic component of all, besides mana itself of course. The Spiritual Body.¡± He pointed his stick to two outlines of a human offset on top of one another. ¡°The ¡®second body¡¯ many people speak of when describing the residence of their Mana Well is more apt than they realize. It is; at its core, a second body. One of a half-spiritual, half-magical nature. But it is not to be confused with the soul. The Spiritual Body is an echo on top of the flesh. Much like the dimensions layered onto this physical plane. The process happens thusly: as mana flows through all living things, those living things are copied, in a sense, to create the spirit. Subsequent mana is then concentrated within that spirit, growing into a mana well. This process happens during gestation or the species equivalent.


    ¡°While this Mana Well occupies a relatively small portion of this Spiritual Body, it is through this immaterial flesh; echoed onto the physical, that mana travels through our bodies to amass in our Wells and conversely be released as magical energy. Thus our physical bodies are unable to interact with mana on their own. It is our Spiritual Bodies that truly interact with mana and gives us a hold over the energy. And its core is the Mana Well.


    "They are known to have four components.¡± Zeff held up his stout fingers. ¡°Pores, or the surface, is the first of them. Commonly known for being a porous shell responsible for regulating the circulation of mana in and out of the Well. But what¡¯s commonly unknown is that the Pores are responsible for an individual¡¯s mana signature. As it happens in nature, a gas would flow more freely through a mesh while a solid like ice or diamond would not flow at all. The same principle applies to those with higher densities of mana. Wherein little-to-no mana could be sensed from one of such caliber. And wouldn¡¯t until they withdrew mana from their Well.


    ¡°What we know regarding the other components is as you know them.¡± He waved his hand aside. ¡°Wells are classified by density and size. Mana Tolerance consists of how well an individual can remain comfortable in a high-density environment. Mana Fatigue is the feeling of nausea and fatigue one feels after expending too much magic. But you know that!¡± He clapped in his usual fasion. ¡°I¡¯m here to tell you about the unknown. I¡¯m here to tell you about mana. How it can be used and how it affects us all. But first, I would like to share a secret among the scholars of Arcana. A scale, of sorts. One agreed upon by the renowned academics of the realms. It is a way to visualize the differences between various Mana Wells.


    ¡°If we were to equate mana with money.¡± He held a silver coin above his head. ¡°We could say that one silver is equal to the energy needed to make a hand-sized fireball. Someone with a 12th Grade Mist Well would be able to cast around ten before their Well tinkered out. Or once they¡¯ve spent ten coins if we were to follow our analogy. Someone with a Water Well of the same grade could cast up to a hundred. A thousand for a Slush Well. Ten thousand for Ice. And a hundred thousand or more for those with Diamond Wells.


    But!¡± He clapped. ¡°Keep in mind that these are generalizations. Not to mention, those with high-density Wells would innately pack a heavier punch. In this case, the flames would be both denser and hotter.


    ¡°Now! Moving on!¡± He clapped again. Twice this time. ¡°Among humans, the second object to reside in the Spiritual Body are Affinity Cores. For you non-humans present, one can only be granted a magical affinity by birth or the Core Awakening Ceremony. It is, by all rights, a magical gland capable of changing the raw mana in one''s Well into mana of a different nature. On our level, they are classified in three ways based on the type of effect it produces. A Transmutation Affinity is one that changes mana into another type of energy. This includes electricity, or lightning, as well as light, heat, mechanical, kinetic, and potential energies. A Conjuration Affinity is one that changes mana into a type of matter, be it a solid, liquid, or gas. And the last and rarest type is Alteration Affinities. By definition, these entail anything that falls under neither the Transmutation nor Conjuration classifications. But it is uncommonly agreed that these are the rare abilities that are capable of altering reality at its core.


    ¡®Ah.¡¯ I nodded. ¡®Like mine. Kind of.¡¯


    ¡°Additionally!¡± He clapped. ¡°The nature of how one receives their affinities has an influence on their physiology. Ones gained from birth, called Genetic Cores, will imbue the holder with physical aspects relating to that affinity. Often to a small or moderate extent. But rarely to a great one. Someone with an affinity for fire or ice would be hot or cool to the touch, for example. While someone with an Evolved Core would simply have immunity to fire or ice. However!¡± He added with a raised finger. ¡°The often unspoken side effect that all Cores have on our physiologies are known as Magical Marks.


    ¡°Colloquially known as Markers or simply Marks, they are the result of the link between our Spiritual Bodies and flesh. Their visual appearance is dependent on the positioning of the Affinity Cores and the nature of the core itself. Some Cores may not leave a Mark at all while others may take up a large portion of one¡¯s body. Before I move on.¡± He added. ¡°Keep in mind that the general location of Marks and their range of appearance makes it quite rude to ask about people''s marks. So keep that in mind.


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    ¡°Now¡± He clapped. ¡°Auras. This is a term used to describe the side effects of one charging their mana or preparing to cast a spell. The first and most obvious effect is a change in the caster¡¯s eyes. Often they will glow in a different color, but not always. The influx of more power would bring about changes to one''s immediate environment. Finally, a visible aura of mana would appear around them. But you will see that for yourselves in due time.¡± He smiled knowingly at us before he once again held up four fingers. ¡°Before I begin closing the lecture, I want to share four advanced techniques regarding Mana and your Spiritual Bodies.


    ¡°Alright.¡± He centered himself before the desks and made a pass over us with his eyes. ¡°The first one is a basic spell. But I¡¯ll describe it anyway. The Infusion of attributed mana enables the flesh to take on the properties of that Affinity. That is known. What¡¯s unknown is the fact that it¡¯s the Spiritual Body that makes this possible. Through the spirit, the flesh is changed. Morphed to take on the properties of the energy or force in question or become encased in a material or element. Known to us as Infusion.


    ¡°Moving on!¡± He clapped. ¡°It is commonly known that ¡®friendly fire¡¯ upon oneself is an impossibility. In turn, it is commonly believed that the nature of this is due to the immunity to any damage of the same type as their affinity. Someone with a fire affinity can never be burned. Someone with a lightning affinity can never be shocked. And so on. While that is the case for external harm, the impossibility of magical suicide is due to the Mana Signature that comes from the energy being altered by the Mana Well, Cores, and Spirit Body. It¡¯s akin to a code that denotes one of oneself. A Magical Identification Signature; unique to every individual. It is this very signature that is being absorbed by the Bodhi Tree and used as nourishment for the fruits of your labors. On its own, this gives each spell the same frequency as the caster, causing a self-inflected spell to behave like a ghost moving through a wall. That said, it is possible to let your spell hit you consciously. If you were to do so, you wouldn¡¯t take damage. Instead, it would be reabsorbed into the Spiritual Body to be; for example, cast again at a later time or turned into a different spell. A technique known as Redirection.


    ¡°The relatively small stature of the Wells and Cores, however, leaves unclaimed real estate within the rest of the Spiritual Body.¡± He continued without pause. ¡°Within its core lies our Mana Wells, but that leaves the upper and lower torso; the arms, legs, or any other appendages, and undoubtedly the head of our ethereal statures. Much like the whole, these individual parts may be infused with either raw mana or any or all of an individual¡¯s affinities. But that¡¯s hardly the surface of possibilities.¡± He knowingly grinned. ¡°Mana can be continuously channeled through the entire body. Through every bone, muscle, and organ, in a continuous circuit- a process known as Circulation and the foundation of the monastic paths. In using this technique, your flesh will undergo a semi-permanent change. As a result, you can achieve the same effect as Infusion. But with less effort to yield a greater effect. With the right affinity, Circulation can lessen the need for sleep, increase your natural healing factor, or even slow down the aging process significantly. Still, though!¡± He added with a loud clap. ¡°It is not to be confused with Ki!


    ¡°The last and most notable technique is an amalgamation of the previous three,¡± Zeff said. ¡°Like Redirection, it begins with casting a spell and allowing it to be reabsorbed into the Spiritual Body. Like Circulation, it is then sent throughout the Spiritual Body in a circuit, granting you the same benefits as the technique if you so wish. But the focus here is to store and accumulate the energy instead of using it to empower yourself.


    ¡°You see.¡± He took a step forward with frenzied eyes. ¡°The benefit of this is that your spell remains undetectable. Ready to be cast instantaneously, at a moment¡¯s notice. Dormancy is the name. Like enchantments for the spirit, in a sense.¡±


    Following his explanation of some particularly interesting skills, Zeff permitted a long moment of murmurs and scribbles to resound through the classroom while he waddled to his desk for a sip of ... something that smelled sweet. Then waddled back to gather everyone¡¯s attention with a loud clap that still shook the majority to their core.


    ¡°In closing, I have three points.¡± He held up his fingers. ¡°One of them is the knowledge given to us by the Iron Magus and the Necro King. Spirit Assimilation. While natural for some creatures, it is said that sentient creatures can will their Spiritual Bodies into their Mana Wells upon the moment of their death. In doing so, their Well remains after the body has perished. This has two known uses. The first is as the centerpiece for an External Well. A self-explanatory device. But the method given to us by the elves involves assimilating such a Well with our own.


    ¡°Through potions or enchanted items, one can force either their Mana Tolerance, Pores, or Wells to moderately, and often temporarily, increase at little-to-no risk, but at tremendous cost," Zeff explained. "All three can be acclimatized over time by spending months or perhaps years in areas with high concentrations of mana such as the Bodhi Tree. Which is the natural, cheapest, and safest way; albeit the slowest. But through great risk and the Well of another, one can forcefully expand their Mana Well and make its contents denser. The caveat to this is, as I¡¯ve said, not every creature leaves its Well intact after being slain. And even if they did, the Well would be unusable in both regards without the necessary potion.


    ¡°And, it¡¯s dangerous!¡± He clapped. ¡°Attempting to Assimilate with a Well that¡¯s too large and dense will give you an extreme case of mana fatigue. If not death!


    "Now then.¡± Zeff settled beside his desk with a long sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll close by explaining the relation between the Spiritual Body and its relation between the object of everyone¡¯s eye, Class Evolution.¡±


    Much to his visible delight, most of the class erupted in excited murmurs upon hearing the mention of Classes. And like a parent seeing their kid walk for the first time, he sat back and watched us talk amongst ourselves with an ear-splitting grin.


    ¡°Let me explain.¡± He beamed wider, causing an immediate silence to spread through the room. ¡°The completion of the ritual brings about a change in the Spiritual Body. An evolution, if you will. As I explained before, it is the Spiritual Body that enables our flesh to interact with the mana around us. Consequently, evolution enables mana to react with our Spiritual Bodies on its own accord. These reactions are what the evolved colloquially refer to as Perks.¡± He triumphantly declared. ¡°And these Perks are unique to the fourteen different Classes you know of. The nature of these Classes, as well as a continuation of this lecture, will be the focus of our next lesson.


    ¡°For now, however, you are dismissed!¡±

 107 - Overgrowth

    ¡°We missed you after class yesterday.¡± Hearing the words made me take a deep sigh and pause at the top of the steps before I entered the common area. Looking up, I saw none other than Zakira, slouched over the sofa and staring at me with that half-distant, half-dreamy look that was forever present in her scarlet eyes.


    Like the morning before, I emerged from my room hours before sunrise. A period when only us nocturnals were awake. Namely, us and Curious Twig, reclined on the windowsill as she stared up at the night sky.


    ¡°I just need some to myself every once in a while.¡± I smiled at her. ¡°You hungry?¡± Her all-too-enthusiastic agreement followed. And so too did a peaceful bout of silence that persisted throughout our meal and subsequent migration to the gym. Blissful though it was. It was ruined by me, in the end. There was a theory I had that could benefit us both. So, I asked. ¡°What¡¯s your room like?¡±


    Her eyes bulged wide before she turned away with a wry impression. Only then did I realize the implications of such a question, but pressed on anyway. ¡°I imagine your dorm is trying to change to your preferences but, from what I can tell, your preference is my sorcery. I have a feeling that if I go in your room, it¡¯ll learn to mimic whatever it is that you feel when you¡¯re close to me.¡±


    ¡°I mean¡­¡± She muttered. Then continued muddling over my words for a while until she turned back to me. Beaming wide. ¡°You¡¯d do that for me?¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± I smiled. ¡°You and Peter were the first friends I made here.¡± Which was true, but I also wanted her a meter or two away from where she currently was.


    ¡°Okay!¡± She pulled herself deeper into my shoulder and let out a purr-like hum. And from there, we sat in silence and watched the seats fill as the hours passed.


    By around 6:30, a few students had made their way to the floor and had begun practicing their elemental or magical abilities. Including Peter, off in the corner by his lonesome. Before long, however, our isolated corner was intruded on by two individuals. A boy and a girl, both with sickly pale, but yet sunkissed skin. What was curious, however, was that the male seemed to trail behind the female as Zakira did with me. He was a head taller than her. With a pointed, handsome face like we of the Fae were reported to be. A prominent widow¡¯s peak dominated his brow so as to naturally capture my gaze eye and draw it to the tightly braided ponytail swaying behind his neck with each step.


    The girl, on the other hand, looked a lot like Zakira. Large forehead. Bulbous eyes. Thin frame. Only, she was a head taller and carried herself with more elegance and regality than my teammate could ever dream of having.


    Not that I thought such traits were good.


    ¡°Hey, Opal!¡±


    I reeled back from Zakira¡¯s shout at once. Only to be ripped forward and pulled out of my seat from her gentle ¡®tug.¡¯


    ¡°Wow, Z.¡± The one dubbed Opal concealed her smirk behind a finely manicured hand while her head shook in disappointment. ¡°A boyfriend already?¡±


    ¡°No!¡± we simultaneously said with varying intensities.


    ¡°Just, like, shake his hand.¡± She giggled to her friend with a gesture to me. Yet the boy was the one to approach my outstretched hand.


    ¡°Oh, my!¡± He reeled back to palm his heart and give me an incredulous, almost lustful eye. ¡°Never in all my years have I ever felt something so¡­ pure. Why that¡¯s better than blood!¡± He laughed maddeningly while shifting his gaze between us three until he eventually settled on the girl, Opal. ¡°I do suggest that you try it, Madame.¡±


    ¡°I can feel it.¡± She regally said. Sizing me up and down for seconds.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a centerpiece in a museum.¡± I stared blankly.


    ¡°I know you aren¡¯t.¡± Opal stared back with a masterful poker face. Yet fluttered over her words like a child in the principles office. ¡°And I do apologize. It¡¯s just¡­ I- we¡¯ve never felt anything like this before. What- who are you?¡±


    ¡°I am Amun,¡± I said.


    ¡°Elijah.¡± The boy bowed in turn before gesturing to the girl he came with. ¡°This is Madame Opal. Are¡­ are you by chance, a vampire?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I simply shook my head. ¡°And I¡¯m not dead either. I¡¯m half-drow.¡±


    ¡°And half-devil!¡± Zakira stepped in with a blatantly smug grin. ¡°I call him the Elven Devil. Cool, huh?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never called me that!¡± I scoffed. Taking a look around at the few non-humans scattered across the vast space. ¡°And watch what you say. People are listening.¡±


    ¡°The Elven Devil.¡± Elijah gasped as if Id just talked to the wall. ¡°I think, Devil of the Fae has a nice ring to it. What say you, Madame?¡± He turned to Opal. Still standing before our seats, giving me her blank stare while I only got more annoyed.


    ¡°You heard what he said, Elijah!¡± She suddenly and very loudly snapped at her companion before taking a courtesy bow toward me. ¡°I apologize, My Lie-¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that either.¡± I quickly spat.


    ¡°But, you are-¡±


    ¡°I know what I am.¡± I spat again. ¡°I¡¯m not trying to deny my nature. Just-¡± I took a deep sigh. ¡°Don¡¯t call me that here. And don¡¯t be so formal.¡± I attempted a warm smile while gesturing around the gym. ¡°We are all Pages in this plac.¡±


    After another long, awkward pause, a hopeful smile spread across her face and she took a seat on the other side of Zakira. Then she leaned forward with that same hopeful smile. ¡°I believe we¡¯ve bitten the wrong side of the neck.¡±


    ¡®I beg your fucking pardon?¡¯ I blinked rapidly at her.


    ¡°My name is Opal of the Blackblood Clan. This is my thrall, Elijah.¡± She gestured to him. ¡°I approached first because I saw Zakira. Second, because I caught word of your duel and someone was kind enough to point out your face.¡±


    ¡®Hmm.¡¯ I felt a deep grunt bellow from within me just before a certain face drifted through my mind. ¡®I wonder who that could¡¯ve been.¡¯


    ¡°It¡¯s the first duel of the year.¡± She continued. ¡°One of my teammates won¡¯t shut up about it.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Zakira turned to her with sudden interest. ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Umm.¡± Opal tapped at her cheek and looked up to the ceiling before snapping her eyes back to Zakira. ¡°She¡¯s a girl with darker skin, like you.¡± She pointed to me. ¡°Long curly hair. Umm. Eyes with the color of steel. Ro-something. Rohan? Rohen?¡±


    ¡°Roheisa?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that!¡± She snapped her fingers to point at me. ¡°There¡¯s her and another human from Maru. A girl who keeps calling herself a Warrior; kinda weird, but she¡¯s strong. And then there¡¯s me. A quiet dude from Nonus. And a Triton Prince named Zohnos.¡±


    ¡°Triton?¡± Zakira shook her head in confusion. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a type of water people.¡± Opal dismissively shrugged. ¡°Webbed hands and feet. Scaled bodies. Bright hair that looks like seaweed. He¡¯s strong. Pretty arrogant though. So he and Ro argue a lot. They should just duel already.¡± She blew a sort of raspberry under her breath.


    Meanwhile, Elijah turned to me with an expression that mimicked his master¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯m in Baker Party, team two. My teammates are two humans from Epethia, Quinn Leonhart and Rommy Peak. As well as another Marulean Warrior, Orsola. There¡¯s also a dwarf named Darekhil. And, obviously, myself.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m with Amun!¡± Zakira burst in to latch onto my shoulder like a baby spider monkey. ¡°And, there¡¯s a dwarf, a goliath, and a human too! His name is Peter. He¡¯s right there!¡± She pointed through the glass to the small boy still training his heart out.


    ¡°Lucky!¡± Opal pouted. Ignoring the latter parts entirely.


    They continued their small talk while I waited for classes to start and thought about this whole vampire ordeal. I was willing and even wanted to have a vampire minion or two under my wing in the future. They were absurdly powerful on their own. And being undead removed the potential for betrayal. Yet, with each passing day, I fell more and more in line with Grandpa Lich''s ideologies. I had to find something to do with them come time for the guild¡¯s formation, for I refused to have them clinging to me constantly. Adding yet another check box to the list.


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    Come time for class, Zakira and I reported to Doyle¡¯s classroom for the usual process before migrating to our place of study. Which was a marvel, to say the least. Every wall was filled from floor to ceiling with display cases, almost like a wall of sealed cubes filled with everything from metals and powders to live plants, terrariums, and even aquariums. It was a veritable goldmine to my eyes. But unfortunately, they could do very little exploring, for our teacher soon trailed behind us to capture everyone¡¯s attention.


    At least that of every young man. Including myself to a much lesser extent.


    Olga Godzuik was a red-haired woman with a similar build to that of Grandmaster Vilignin; thick and muscular, and much, much shorter, with a round, gentle face dotted with a dense patch of freckles atop her nose.


    ¡°Animals. Plants. Ores.¡± She enthusiastically chimed on her way to her desk, stationed on a dais canopied by large leaf-like book pages held upon. ¡°In this class, you will learn how to classify, collect, and create magical items using materials refined from the environments we explore. This first half of the semester will be dedicated to your education and collection of such things. The latter half will consist of you refining those materials to create products of your own making. Today, we¡¯ll start with a briefing on the various tiers creatures are placed into, and have a summary of the different Zones within the Bodhi Tree¡¯s Wilds. After lunch, the focus of this week will begin with our lecture on the Marulean Tree of Life. And our next class will continue with an in-depth lecture on the Vaguan Tree of Life. Followed by shorter lectures on the Trees found in Betrarth and the White Worlds before we round out the studies with Nonus.


    ¡°Ahem.¡± Olga cleared her throat like a ninety-year-old smoker before continuing in her song-like voice. Whether from that or a hidden process, the leaflets above her darkened and shifted along with her words. ¡°Across the Realms, all things are categorized into tiers, classifications, or levels to distinguish them from others. Fauna is no different. The first of them are normal animals- the harmless ones. Pets and domesticated animals. Normal beasts are, naturally, above them. The deer and wolves that stalk the wilds, for example. The third tier of creatures known across the realms are the Magical Beasts. These are creatures who aren¡¯t quite sentient but have developed or have been born with a means to use magic.


    ¡°Those of them that do have sentience, are known as Mythical Creatures.¡± She paused to bring our eyes to the menagerie of creatures shown above. ¡°These are the ones found both in literature and across the realms- but by large, they all come from Nonus. Centaurs. Manticores. Cyclops. Harpies. Naga. Phoenixes. Tengu. Tanuki. Gorgons. Sirens. Minotaur. And many, many more. Regardless of the type, these can be dangerous opponents even to the most experienced adventurers, for they all, at the very least, match our levels of cunning and intelligence. And those who are ignorant of their ways will meet a swift death.¡±


    ¡®Damn right.¡¯ I nodded. ¡®Minotaurs are fucking terrifying.¡¯


    ¡°The next tier encompasses all of the civilized species.¡± She said. ¡°That includes every species present in this year¡¯s class and every documented civilization in all the realms. If they¡¯ve been reported to live within complex communities and have a common written language and culture beyond which can be found in the wild, they fall into this tier. However!¡± She raised an excited finger. ¡°There are many reports of guilds recovering forsaken humans and found that they¡¯ve evolved to befit their environments. The most famous example of this would be the Beastkin found in Betrarth during the Great Migration, as well as the Striflings of Vagua. But many more fantastical sentient species have yet to be discovered.


    ¡°Moving on.¡± She continued. ¡°Divine Creatures. These are beings so powerful- so feared or revered that they¡¯re considered godly. Or, creatures who were birthed in a God¡¯s realm. The most famous example of the latter would be the Unicorn- Celestials sent from the elven God Caelarin to protect nature. According to who you ask, the next tier is either above or below divine creatures. They are the Dragons, which we will discuss more at a later time. So, we¡¯ll move on to the tier of the truly divine.¡± She explained with mild enthusiasm. Not that I could blame her. ¡°First come the Demigods. Those are mortals born with or given a sliver of divine power, granting them anything from immortality to absurd strength, but never the ability to grant power to others. That is reserved for those above them, the Lesser Deities. They are those who have been uplifted to godhood by another deity. Or, rarely, those who''ve found a way to ascend on their own. Although, even then, it''s been said they don''t have the power to survive without falling under the wing of a higher deity. As such, they gain the right to live in the divine realm of their parent deity and can bestow minimal power unto mortals in the form of divine spells.


    ¡°Due to the limitations imposed on them, Lesser Deities are the most numerous, and region-specific. Lesser Deities of the Bodhi Tree Peninsulas would be different from those of Maru and Nonus, but they all would belong to a Greater Deity." She explained. "The majority of them were the first beings birthed by the Trees of Life scattered across the Mortal Plane, such as the Dwarven deities; Myrthilda, The Forge Mother; Amphroduhn, The All-Smithy; and Rangorakh, the Fire Mountain. Other firstborns, however, only ascended to the status of a lesser god, such as the six orc deities from Betrarth. Some firstborns never ascended at all, such as the first thirteen demons and the twelve vampire progenitors who grew to become the center of the feared families and clans that exist today.


    "The Ascended Deities, or True Gods, are next,¡± Olga stated, bringing into view an eclectic mix of religious symbols. ¡°These are those that are the stars in the night sky. Those who we mortals worship and those who bestow power unto their followers, perform miracles, and shape the realms around us with their blessings. Hence the name, all True Gods were once Greater Deities who took to the great empty above to form realms of their own. Their heavens. A place where the deities under them may live freely. Where the devoted followers of their pantheons can be saved from the unending horrors of the Underworld. The first of them was the first dragons, Bahamut and Tiamat. It¡¯s believed the elven deities came next; Faenya, Caelarin, and Lilith. Followed then by the human deities; Yue, Ein, Zahir, Viltramas, and Sutark. As well as more.


    ¡°The only known entities above them are Primordials.¡± She declared. ¡°Entities that are both natural phenomena, exotic realms, and living creatures in the same form. The Titans of the Elemental Planes are but a few examples. As is the Realm of Shadow, the Faewoods, and the Infernal Plane. The Heavens and the Underworld, however, are the oldest of these primordial beings and planes of existence. But there are many more that are almost incomprehensible to our minds. The Astral Plane. The Plane of Ether. The Cosmic Plane and many others are but examples.


    ¡°Now.¡± She flicked her arm towards the ceiling to prompt another finely made map to unfold for our viewing pleasure. This one was of the Bodhi Tree and the surrounding forest to the north. Within it were twelve concentric rings that extended to the mountain separating the peninsula from the rest of the supercontinent- a portion that was grayed out in comparison to the alternating blue and green shades found within the closer zones. ¡°Zone One is where you will be spending this week¡¯s venture time.¡± She declared with a slap of her pointer on the first ring. ¡°Within this zone exists relatively harmless animals and an abundance of forage for you all to make use of. This week¡¯s venture is nothing more than a familiarization exercise. Zones Two through Three will be accessible next week and will be your limit until the end of the month.


    "Within it are normal beasts,¡± she said. ¡°Albeit stronger and more hostile ones than what you¡¯re most likely used to. You will hunt them. Or they will hunt you. No exceptions. Only then can you grow stronger as Pages and make the most of your ritual come year¡¯s end. At the end of this month, your restrictions will be lifted. You will be able to travel freely through the wilds with your party and teams. Fighting and growing stronger as you do.


    ¡°You see.¡± She circled her pointer around the zones to point out something unseen. ¡°The Bodhi Tree¡¯s roots are spread across all the Zones, giving Headmaster Knagh control of it all. Through that and the enchantments in your clothes, we staff are capable of being anywhere at a moment''s notice to rescue or heal you. So fear not about exploring as much as you can. And fear not about missing your studies due to an injury. But remain careful all the same!¡± She sternly warned. ¡°For Zones Four through Six is the realm of magical beasts. And Zones Seven through Twelve are home to mythical creatures. You are behooved to seek these creatures out during your time in the Wilds, for these encounters will prove invaluable when you meet such creatures in a real situation. Whether you search them out for study, hunting, or conflict is up to you. But keep in mind that these Zones are generalized. Depending on a creature¡¯s personal interest, power level, or intelligence, you can find a magical beast within Zone Ten just as easily as you can find a mythical creature in Zone Four.


    "Dismissed."


    ---


    ¡°Today, Maru is a half-civilized realm.¡± Olga began the moment we returned from lunch. ¡°It is the birthplace of humans, dwarves, and halflings. Like all the realms, Maru is unique. Namely, its uniqueness stems from the fact that it is the smallest of the realms. And it remains isolated from the others by an unimaginably vast and deep body of water known as the Marulean World Sea. Within the realm exists four continents.¡± She tapped at the map above with her pointer. "In order of smallest to largest, they are known as Deapou, Phaegrath, Ulai, and Epethia.


    "Plagued by an endless winter, Deapou Island is a harsh land.¡± She slammed her pointer atop my home. ¡°Yet, it boasts the largest population in all of Maru and is home to two sister empires. The Deapou and Odissian Empires. The Epethian continent comes in second place in terms of population. It is the largest continent by far. But over half of its surface is desert. And half of the side that isn¡¯t has been left unclaimed by the Epethian Empire. On the contrary, nearly all of Phaegrath¡¯s population can be found within a single city-state. Silva City.¡± She pointed to what looked like a large mountain sitting on the continent¡¯s northern edge. ¡°And though other civilizations exist on Phaegrath, that¡¯s the limit of human occupation in Maru.¡± She solemnly sighed. ¡°While the portal leading to Nonus has long since been sealed on this side, the portals leading to the other Realms are all concentrated on the Ulaian continent; trapped inside a barrier that has not only cut the humans of Maru off from the other realms, but many theorize it created a haven for any creatures coming in through the other side.


    ¡°I won¡¯t go into any detail about the common species found on Maru. But I will say that Maru is special when compared to all other Realms for one inexplicable reason. The Marulean Tree of Life is dead.¡± She declared. Much to the astonishment of both Peter and Winston, surprisingly. ¡°It has been for eons, some think. But the time is inconsequential. The fact remains, Maru is a dead realm. No new creatures can ever be born there. Perhaps that, and the fenced-off portals is why few Marulean graduates seek to return to its surface.


    ¡°But, who am I to say?¡±

 108 - Choose Your Weapon

    ¡°Alright.¡± Doyle slapped his clipboard down and turned halfway to the center of his annex with an excited grin. ¡°The agenda for today is to test your power levels and give you all an understanding of the party¡¯s capabilities. To do that, we¡¯ll use this.¡±


    With a wave, he guided our eyes to the right side of the compound, wherein sat a larger walled off-court centered with a massive construct. If that was even the right word. Statue would¡¯ve been more apt. A sculpture of a hand with a crystal embedded in the inner wrist.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure Zeff has told you about his power scale.¡± Doyle scoffed derisively. ¡°While it gives you a good idea of Well Depth, it doesn¡¯t give you an idea about Well Density. That¡¯s what this is for.¡± He threw his chin at the construct. ¡°The crystal will pull a measured amount of mana from whoever touches it to light the brazier.¡± He gestured to the hand above. ¡°The majority of you have Slush or Ice Wells.¡± He said, turning back to us. ¡°However, there are also a few with Diamond Wells. And even two with Arcana.¡± He smiled knowingly at me before waving the matter off for the others. ¡°I know you¡¯re curious about the difference, and Zeff will explain it in class tomorrow. So go ahead and divide yourselves into your teams and we¡¯ll go ahead and start.¡±


    While the construct was indeed interesting, I quickly grew annoyed at the round-the-room style introductions as each student touched the console and went on to give a short demonstration of their primary or hereditary abilities. It wasn¡¯t all bad, though. As I was able to get a good understanding of the party¡¯s names and the like.


    First was Winston, whose 9th Grade Diamond Well produced a fireball five meters in diameter before he went on to form a glass-like skin of transparent blue energy around his fist. Aside from that, he only had one other ability to show but did little more with it than give its name. The others in his team were a Nonusian girl named Toni, who had Mud and Snow Magic along with a 12th Grade Ice Well. As well as Rhody, another Nonusian and the only other human in their group. He possessed Clay and Water Magic with a 9th Grade Ice Well also. Producing a bonfire four meters in diameter.


    The first of his inhuman teammates was Curious Twig, the Felipian. She had an Ice Well but was unable to use any magic. Having no Cores, she could only use mana to bolster her strength, agility, or defense to surprising degrees. As could the Sapiavi, for the most part. The difference was, the avian male could produce quite powerful and unnatural gusts with his wings. His name, on the other hand, sounded more like a bird call than actual words. So, like many others, I elected to call him Duke.


    I was the first member of team two and thus elected to summon my Doppelganger and explain my affinity for darkness before I placed my hand upon the crystal, resulting in an event that surprised even me. A concentration of fire that was so dense and intensely hot that it could only be described as a sun held in the palm of a god. A sight that made Peter¡¯s 12th Grade Slush Well seem like an ember in comparison. On the contrary, Zakira had an 11th Grade Diamond Wll. But her display wound up being the object of many people¡¯s interest. Or disgust.


    She withdrew a sack of blood from her bag and held it overhead. And with an anti-climactic smack, the congealed viscera shot all over the ground and herself, prompting a few to lose their breakfast. In the following seconds, however, it began rippling. Coalescing. Ascending into thin wires that reached back to her fingers to loop around them like rags on a boxer¡¯s hands. And with but a swing of her hand, the strings trailed out to lash at the surrounding environment, dicing leaves and bark into neat blocks with minimal effort.


    ¡°Blood Strings!¡± She cheerfully stated after her display. "That''s my magic."


    Slate was like many of the other non-humans. Only, he had no control over mana just yet and thus relied on his immense natural strength. Like Els, who could mold and pull on metal as easily as pulling on a coat so long as it was present around him. Though, the better refined the harder it was for him, allegedly. That aside, they both had Ice wells in the 11th and 6th Grades respectively.


    Team three consisted of Samson, a boy of athletic build from Nonus, boasting an 11th Grade Slush Well plus Aluminum and Rain Magic- a little air combined with a lot of water. After him was Scarlett, a petite girl with Silk and Poison Magic in addition to an 8th Grade Diamond Well. Her polar opposite was Rebecca, a tall and somewhat muscular girl with Blaze, Plasma, and Black Powder Magic coupled with a 12th Grade Ice Well. Their non-humans consisted of Kao, Slates ¡®brother,¡¯ who also possessed an Ice Well of equal size, and Urshure, the winged dragonborne who used his 12th Grade Arcana Well to breathe a wide cone of intense fire in favor of touching the crystal. Though he eyed it longingly.


    ¡°Very good.¡± Doyle finalized the exercise with a clap, bringing our attention back to him. ¡°Now that you''ve got a general idea of what your peers can do, it would benefit you to get together on your own time to figure out how you¡¯ll aid each other in battle. Which you¡¯ll be doing in the coming weeks. Now follow m.¡± He gestured again to lead us back to the seats, wherein he brought our attention to the different Classes written across the board with renderings of a few humans toting the weapons and armor sets privy to that Class.


    ¡°Alright.¡± He began after a few moments. ¡°I¡¯m sure Zeff told you all about Class Perks. If he hasn''t, he will soon. What I¡¯m here to tell you is how Classes relate to tools, weapons, and equipment. To put it simply, Perks may be locked depending on what tools you¡¯re using. An example of this would be a Rogue wearing heavy armor. Doing so would prevent them from using the perks associated with stealth. But the same could be said for a Cleric without their holy symbol or a number of other situations.


    "Now, don¡¯t worry if you haven¡¯t decided on a Class yet.¡± He smiled at the two embarrassed faces in the crowd. ¡°Focus on picking a fighting style and weapon that works best for you. It can always be adapted to fit your Class later. Or, in some cases, you may gain find yourself suited to a new class entirely. With that out of the way, we¡¯ll start from the top.¡± He said, pointing to the first set of Classes. "The Classes of Might. Barbarian, Fighter, Paladin, Ranger, and Monk. Each of them has a distinct fighting style that separates them from the others. A Barbarian thrives in chaos, operating in the thick of battle, whether it be in a tavern or the thick of the wilds. They are famous for wielding their emotions like a weapon. So, if you like to fight angry, don¡¯t quite like to wear armor, and see the land itself as your weapon, this Class is for you.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°A Fighter is the most well-rounded of all the Classes.¡± Doyle continued, much to the apparent interest of Winston, Slate, Kao, and Samson. ¡°Akin to a well-trained soldier, they use a variety of weapons, tools, and equipment ranging from sword and shield to dual-wielded axes, shovels and picks for fortifications, and even siege tools. For those seeking mastery of the art of combat, the Fighter Class is for you. And.¡± He wagged his finger. ¡°Let it be known that Zeff and I are both Fighters. So we can provide professional input for anyone curious about the Class.


    ¡°Moving on, we have Paladins.¡± He continued. ¡°It is a common misconception that Paladins are holy knights. While this can and often is the case, their power is a direct result of their conviction. They make an oath that binds them to a set of beliefs, rules, and guidelines; and they can be for or to anything. This stereotype is only exacerbated by the prerequisite to becoming a paladin. That is, to have been at least trained as a knight, if not knighted. That includes wearing armor, using martial weapons like great swords or battle axes, and having experience with mounted combat. For any young knights in the crowd, let it be known that your Perks will be locked when not in your armor. But they are among the most powerful Perks of all.


    ¡°Rangers are the warriors of the frontier,¡± Doyle explained, pointing to the leathered man drawn on the board. Meanwhile, Twig and Duke leaned to the edge of their desks while Rebecca and Toni pulled out their parchment and quills with dissimilar expressions. ¡°Hunters. Beast Tamers. Trackers. This Class is for those who want to skirt the line between civilization and nature. Having a connection to both, they protect both sides from forces that would do them harm. These are most famously archers, but Rangers also favor short swords and light armor or scale mail.


    ¡°The last and most complicated Class of Might is the Monk.¡± He explained. Much to my unbridled interest and mine alone. ¡°Monks are famous for their use of Ki. Which is, at heart, a result of mana cycling through all living things. Monks learn to transform this latent energy into physical energy, and due to its nature, it greatly enhances their physical abilities. This Ki, however, is blocked if the Monk is wearing any armor, including vambraces, gauntlets, and greaves. But in exchange, they can use the widest variety of weapons of any class. They train to specialize in all simple weapons in addition to fighting unarmed. But the requirement to become one is a strong mental fortitude, dedication, and a penchant for emotional control.


    ¡°Next we have the Classes of Skill, starting with the Rogue,¡± Doyle said, pointing to the next section. ¡°As the stereotypes dictate, Rogues favor stealth. As such, they only wear light armor if any at all, and they favor crossbows, rapiers, and daggers over bows, swords, or shields. The Rogue is for the swift and deadly types who don¡¯t care to be revered by the eyes of society. Unlike the Bard.¡± He grinned. ¡°They combine magic and the arts on the battlefield to aid their peers rather than use weapons to fight the enemy. Their Perks involve channeling power into their craft rather than into spells or themselves, providing buffs and auras for their allies. That isn¡¯t to say they don¡¯t use weapons though.¡± He added. ¡°They often use daggers and rapiers as well as hand crossbows and short swords. And their styles range from a party''s resident musician to an imperial army''s general.¡±


    While the sleazy-looking Nonusian Rhody seemed to be the only one interested in becoming a Rogue, no one in the class seemed to take an interest in becoming a Bard. Nor a Barbarian, it seemed.


    Not that I blamed them.


    ¡°The last of the Classes of Skill is the Artificer.¡± Doyle continued, again causing me to lean forward in anticipation alongside Elsgril. ¡°They too can use simple weapons and armor of all types. Even shields. But their prowess comes from the things they create, rather than the things they use. And not just enchantments but potions, weapons, and invented tools as well. And while they¡¯re rarely known to fight, they can prove to be quite the meddlesome adversary.


    ¡°Moving on, we have the Classes of Magic, starting with the Warlock.¡± He explained. ¡°They are the polar opposite of Clerics, wherein they gain power from a powerful, otherworldly, and not always nefarious entity in exchange for something in return. Because of their pact, many of them carry unique weapons, items, or marks. And the restrictions of their Perks can vary. But we know that the majority of them wear light armor if any. Clerics, on the other hand, are devotees who receive power from a deity through prayer and worship.¡± He said to no one''s interest just like the last. ¡°While the power a Cleric can gain from their deity is immense, they are almost always seen wearing plated armor with maces, shields, war picks, or hammers.


    ¡°Before I move on.¡± He added with a remorseful tone. ¡°Let it be known that due to their natures, the Bodhi Tree has no courses for the Cleric and Warlock Classes. It is said there were petitions over the school''s history to bring the former in, but the Headmaster wouldn¡¯t comply unless he could bring the latter in as well.


    ¡°But enough tea for now.¡± He chuckled to himself. Again to no one''s amusement. ¡°Druids.¡± He sighed heavily; meanwhile, Scarlett pulled out her notes just like Toni. Eager smile and all. ¡°The keepers of nature. Druids are known to revere nature above all other things. Their power allows them to connect with the most primal energies of the realms, allowing them to take the shape of animals and even talk to plants. They use a variety of tools. But the caveat is that they cannot be made from metal. Their lifestyle revolves around nature. Untainted by the refinement process.¡±


    As before, Scarlett took up her quill once Doyle pointed to the next section and began to speak. What was interesting to me, however, was the fact that she was the only one who cared to hear what Doyle had to say. Ironically so.


    ¡°Witches are the healers of the magical world,¡± Doyle explained. ¡°Each of you will learn and practice basic witchcraft come later this year. But I¡¯ll tell you that any magical affinity is capable of healing, albeit in different ways. Now, it¡¯s commonly believed that those who practice witchcraft shan¡¯t take a life. But those in our line of work are different. Keeping a party alive means not only fighting as much as healing, it means merging the two. As a result, Witches are known to use staffs, wands, daggers, slings, and sometimes even hand crossbows to keep foes at bay.


    ¡°Similarly, the Wizard uses much the same arsenal.¡± He said. ¡°Albeit with no armor, rather than the light or medium armor worn by Witches. The schools of Wizardry involve adopting one of many practices to refine your magical techniques. But they also involve many lessons in memorizing rituals, sigils, and words of power that allow anyone to cast spells, should they be knowledgeable enough.


    ¡°Lastly.¡± He let out a closing sigh before turning to me. ¡°We have the Sorcerer. Like Warlocks, each Sorcerer is different. But their differences are much more innate. Two sorcerers may have the same ability but boast different lifestyles, ways of casting, and so on. As such, the Bodhi Tree has no course for the Class. Nor do we know what tools can or cannot be used with their Perks. However, we do know that sorcerers are akin to living manifestations of their abilities. Their bodies are often largely different, and they can cast with ambient energy. The families of light and darkness, for example, can cast with the light and darkness around us without using their mana.


    ¡°Think these Classes over during lunch.¡± He said after a short pause. ¡°When we come back, you¡¯ll pick weapons if you haven¡¯t already and practice in the basics for the rest of the day. Class dismissed."

 109 - Apple of the Eye

    The second half of Doyle¡¯s class proved to be quite interesting. If unremarkable.


    As he said, those of us who weren¡¯t already practiced with a weapon went to a small booth in his classroom to purchase weapons in exchange for points or borrow them for free before moving to the different annexes for training. Which, to my surprise, was accomplished through animated dummies made of wood and vines that instructed each of us on proper stances and basic attacks. Being proficient with daggers and polearms, I decided to train with the three-section staff and went on to train for the rest of the class and hours longer in the gym afterward. After the usual bout of lounging around with Zakira, I was eagerly sitting with the rest of the class waiting for Zeff to demand our attention with a resounding clap.


    ¡°Classes!¡± He beamed. ¡°Highly regarded amongst the unevolved that know of them as magical jobs, they are more than just that. In nearly all cases, a Class is a way of life. Or sometimes, a devotion to a particular creed, lifestyle, or even entity. You will gain such power come the ritual at year¡¯s end.¡± He paused, matching our ambitious smiles with his own. ¡°It is then that you will eat the fruits of our labors, causing an evolution in your Spiritual Bodies that, again, will permit mana to react to your actions on its own accord. That is true, but as it is, you will be unable to see down the paths you¡¯ve chosen.


    ¡°That is where the Divine Aphid comes in.¡± He explained. ¡°Another one of many gifts from the Fae. The purpose of the Aphid is to enable us to see the next step down our chosen paths. Like a symbiote that lives within and evolves alongside our Spiritual Bodies, it acts in ways similar to our grimoires to make us privy to these things."


    In other words, it was the augmented reality Telin spoke of. Well, that and grimoires. But still, it made me curious as to what the final product looked like. If it would be under my design influence like the Eternal Eye or just a screen clouding my vision at the worst time was among my greatest concerns. But like many things in this life, it would have to wait.


    Thankfully, not that long.


    ¡°Fourteen!¡± Zeff clapped. ¡°In all, there are fourteen Classes. But to be eligible for any of them, one must first have lived a certain way or have met a number of conditions. A Paladin, for instance, must have been trained as a knight. A Rogue must have a habit or record of stealing or have been branded as an outcast or criminal. Monks must have a habit of meditation, be physically fit, and show significant control over their emotions. A Cleric must be devoted to a divine entity, and conversely, a Warlock must ask or plea for power from an otherworldly entity. An Artificer must have a knack for or experience in designing and creating things. Druids must show an immense appreciation and understanding of nature while a Ranger must show an ability to survive in the wilderness for extended periods. A Fighter must be proficient and trained with a weapon and has claimed victory in a duel or competition. A Witch must be practiced using healing magic. Bards must be proficient in one of the many arts. And Barbarians must have experience living beyond the comforts of civilization, in addition to fighting.


    ¡°These are but generalizations of the requirements,¡± he said. ¡°But enough to give you a general idea of what you need to do to have access to the Class of your desire. There are many more ways to stumble upon a Class, however. You can consider these the tried and true methods. The Wizard and Sorcerer are the only exceptions. Technically, anyone can become a Wizard so long as they learned or have been taught the various incantations, sigils, and other things. But Sorcerers are special in the sense that their magic comes from an ancestral source. Their power is their birthright. One without reliance on affinity cores, yet many Sorcerers have them all the same. In that regard, they are considered amplifiers of the power that dwells within them. But they can cast with the energies present around us. that''s what makes them special.


    ¡°However!¡± He clapped. ¡°The fourteen Classes as you know them, have hundreds- potentially thousands of Subclasses that have yet to be discovered. Regardless, all Classes are broken into three categories based on the specificity of these Subclasses. The ones I¡¯ve just described are known across the realms as Occupational Classes. These are available to anyone who follows the necessary steps to venture down that chosen path. After they have gone through their ritual. That is the important part.


    ¡°Master Classes are, at heart, identical to occupational classes.¡± He stated. ¡°The difference is, those with Master Classes have already taken at least the first step down these paths prior to the Spiritual Body¡¯s evolution. The obvious result is that one can find themselves starting at a higher level within that Class. But the more interesting result is that Master Classes often tie into one¡¯s magical abilities or physiology as well. This makes for a unique Subclass. Some of which have never been seen before, arguably coming into existence the moment the Spiritual Body evolves.


    ¡°The last, and rarest Classes are Prestige Classes.¡± He explained, ripping my wandering thoughts asunder. ¡°These are available only to those with unique magic or unique physiologies. The Warrior Subclass specific to Amazonians is the most common example. In almost all other cases, however, Prestige Classes are exclusive to Sorcerers. In this class of students, we¡¯re lucky enough to have four with the potential to unlock a Prestige Class. Amun.¡± He smiled at me. ¡°I hope you¡¯re excited.


    ¡®Oh, am I.¡¯ I grinned excitedly. On the inside at least. On the outside, I gave Zeff a blank stare until he turned to reach for his glass of water to inhale a few deep gulps. I didn¡¯t appreciate being called out like that. Though, it wasn''t as if everyone didn¡¯t already know what I was.


    If they didn¡¯t, they would soon enough.


    ¡°Anyway.¡± He chuckled nervously after setting his drink down. ¡°Like the power Sorcerers hold, the power yielded from Classes is different than the power birthed from Affinity Cores. As I said countless times now: The evolution of the Spiritual Body allows mana to react to our actions on its own accord. This gives us access to abilities we call Perks. They are considered physical abilities in the sense that they can be activated in the presence of something like Negstone. But it is a give-take relationship. You must first complete tasks or fulfill conditions to gain access to these perks. And more time will often be needed to master them before they are used in combat.


    ¡°In the first level of almost every Class.¡± He pressed on, regaining his stride. ¡°This often requires you to learn the code, skills, and techniques unique to that class. Oftentimes, they involve a ritual, skills to master, or conditions to accept. In the higher levels, promotions require certain feats particular to that Class. Regardless of the method used to move to a higher level, the Perks gained come in one of four flavors.


    ¡°Skills!¡± He clapped. ¡°The first and most basic Perk is a Skill, or a simple reaction of mana that works in your favor, whether they be Passive or Active. Initially, Skills manifest on their own, wherein it will be up to you to practice and gain enough proficiency to use them efficiently. The second-most common Perk is a Mutation. These involve a permanent change to the Spiritual Body. Permitting the growth of a new magical organ will be grown. In all cases, these organs permit the use of unique abilities or sometimes a magical affinity. The most common example of this would be the Berserker''s Heart, gained after rising through the Barbarian subclass of the same name.


    ¡°The first of the rare Perks are known as Transformations.¡± He eagerly explained. ¡°As the name implies, Transformations enable the user to assume a physical form of a different nature. This form differs from Polymorphism by the simple fact that these forms are not based on magic. The flesh itself is what changes at the will of the user. Enabling them to transform even in the presence of anti-magic. The last and rarest type of Perk is an Evolution!¡± He blared with too much enthusiasm. ¡°These involve a permanent change to the user¡¯s physiology. Often seen in Prestige Classes, but rarely found in Master Classes as well.


    ¡°Naturally, our focus for this year is to make each of you eligible for almost every Class.¡± He smiled. ¡°Once you evolve, you will then be free to decide which path you wish to step down, if you haven''t stepped down one already. Then, your second year at this institute will be dedicated to moving as far down these paths as possible. As such, your experiences will all be different next year. As will they be the next year, when you will shadow a sponsored guild to accrue experience.


    "Therein lies the reason for our point system.¡± He explained to the wowed crowd. ¡°The points you accrue during your time here will act as currency, not just for items and equipment while you are here, but to increase your standing in the eyes of guilds across Nonus and Maru. Only those with the highest points are sought after by the most influential guilds. For those wishing to join them, this may be your only way in. So work hard. And think well about which Class you wish to take.


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    ¡°Now then!¡± He clapped. ¡°Off to lunch! We¡¯ll begin our next lecture upon your return.


    ---


    ¡°What are spells?¡±


    As I somewhat expected, Zeff answered himself before any of us had a chance to even raise our hands. ¡°The word ¡®spell,¡¯ is a grossly ambiguous term used to describe the way living beings like us use mana.¡± He explained. ¡°From now until the end of the quarter, we will learn about and practice casting the different types of spells, as well as learn how to develop new spells and how to identify them being used by your enemies in combat.


    ¡°Now!¡± He clapped. ¡°The first thing to consider when thinking about a spell is the type of mana that sources it. We are all familiar with the mana around us. It exists in varying densities. But in its purest form, it is known as Arcana. Again, we are lucky to have six students possessing the mana type.¡± He glanced at me through his peripherals before breaking the room with another clap. ¡°However! Two more mana types exist within these realms. The first is Divine Mana. Or Divine Energy. Put simply, it is power sourced from the Gods. One unmatched by almost all forms of mana, save the next and an immense amount of Arcana.


    ¡°That type of mana would be Wicked Mana.¡± Zeff grimly explained. ¡°Also known as Cursed Mana, it is mana sourced directly from the Underworld, used by devils and their warlocks for some unknown means.¡±


    ¡®Promotions.¡¯ I nodded in understanding. But that wasn¡¯t something I was willing to share with the rest of the Class. That was family knowledge.


    ¡°All but the last type of mana is used in the same way.¡± Zeff continued after his long, dramatic pause. ¡°Defensive spells are the first, and self-explanatory.¡± He paused to begin looking around, smiling wide. ¡°Who wants to tell me what spell types they think they know and how they¡¯re used?¡±


    ¡°The most basic offensive spell is the Bullet Spell,¡± Winston said after raising his hand. ¡°It¡¯s when the caster gathers mana and sends it at their target like an arrow.¡±


    ¡°A Domain Spell occurs when the caster spreads their mana in an area around them, creating an environment like their magical affinity,¡± Peter said next.


    ¡°A Reinforcement Spell is when you use magic in your own body.¡± Samson crudely explained next.


    I, however, decided to play it differently and proudly dictated my answer after raising my hand. ¡°A Trap Spell is when the caster imbues their magic into a place, such as the ground, and wills the spell to remain dormant until a certain condition is met.¡±


    ¡°Very good!¡± Zeff clapped. ¡°Ten points awarded to Winston, Peter, and Samson; twenty to Amun! However, none of you mentioned the most fundamental spells of all: Passive and Active Spells.¡±


    He paused to begin pacing across the room. ¡°Passive spells are innate abilities, immunities, or resistances that are granted by both the traits of your species and the type of magic you wield. Someone with ice magic would have an immunity to cold while one with fire magic would have a heat immunity. Though they extend far beyond that. The true extent of these abilities can only be explained by the individual in possession of them. And due to the behavior of the community as of late, that knowledge is severely limited. Would anyone like to divulge? Anything but the obvious, please.¡±


    Anything but the obvious were things I¡¯d rather be left unsaid. I was born with the ability to see mana and would one day be able to forge the raw energy into weapons and tools with properties I had no way of understanding. Not only that, but I could turn ordinary animals into magical beasts and I had the innate ability to raise and commune with the dead. I had my own planet in the Underworld and to top it off, I had four overpowered affinities I hardly knew how to use.


    I was basically a walking physics lab in the form of a half-drow born with the deepest darkness in the universe. And I didn¡¯t feel like explaining the principles of any of them to these comparatively primitive people.


    ¡°Anyway.¡± Zeff sighed in defeat. ¡°While there are other basic spells: the offensive Wave and Sweep Spells; and the defensive Dome spell. However, we¡¯re here to learn about the higher forms of spell casting, the first of which is also both an Affinity Core type and a School of Wizardry known as Conjuration. It involves using mana to conjure matter from mana and sometimes make them behave in ways they otherwise wouldn¡¯t. An example of this would be a geomancer turning mana into stone and then turning that stone into a golem under their control. Not to be confused with Summoning. Similarly, Transmutation falls in the same category, wherein mana is transmuted into a different type of energy. In most cases, these are used independently. However, those with an Affinity Core in one category can find themselves able to cast in the other. Someone with an ability to conjure fire, for example, could also transmute their energy into pure heat, and even use it in the exotic ways of their spell craft; say, by turning that heat into something solid.


    ''Interesting.''


    "The next few categories are considered the Utilitarian Spells, used in support groups." He explained. "The most basic form is Construction Spells used by laborers across the realms. But in our context, it''s when we use manipulation or magic to build large-scale infrastructure. Roads, buildings, or even cities for those in guilds, or fortifications and barracks for those in a military setting. Moving on, there are Communication Spells; also known as Divination.¡± He explained. ¡°These require a great talent in spell design, as only a few affinities and classes are known to be capable of communicating across vast distances. Those that are capable of such a thing are highly regarded in many different professions. For those of us who can¡¯t use or develop our own, enchantments have been working just fine for centuries now. Though getting your hands on such a device is still an expensive endeavor


    ¡°That aside, we also have Charm Spells.¡± He smiled. ¡°While Charming is the innate ability of halflings, for others, it is a rare type of spell or skill that makes another more inclined to follow your whims. Their opposite is Hexes. Which are meant to make one feeble, clumsy, and fearful in your presence. Binding and Sealing spells follow, which as the name implies, will restrain a particular target or imprison them respectively. Trap Spells also fall into this category.¡± He gave me a quick nod before moving on.


    ¡°Between the Utilitarian Spells and the Advanced Spells, there exists another type of spell," Zeff said, using his grim tone once again. "They are, by far, the most controversial type of spell in existence. Curse Spells. Their potential is so great that the Polaris Empire wishes for us to withhold the information from you students until just before graduation.¡± He contemptuously spat. ¡°Thankfully, the headmaster and staff alike refute such ways of thinking. ¡°Anyway.¡± He sighed. ¡°Curse spells are special in the way they are cast. By imbuing mana into the voice and speaking the spell''s name, it will have a far greater effect than when cast in any other way. These effects can often last days, weeks, or even lifetimes. Yet the true danger within them lies in the infinite ways in which we can tie our words into our magic. This technique is why high-powered mystics are said to have named spells or why they shout whenever they use their magic. In reality, this is where the art of naming spells is derived from. By combining curse spells with any other technique, a mystic¡¯s magic is propelled to unbounded heights.


    ¡°The reason Polaris dislikes us sharing the information is; one, because of the power behind the spells. Though they¡¯ll deny it at every turn.¡± He huffed. ¡°And, two, because of the negative connotations behind the moniker. As Devils are infamous for Cursing and making Deals with mortal souls, they don¡¯t want anyone to get the wrong idea by using these techniques. Foolishly so.


    ¡°That, however, concludes our introductory lecture.¡± Zeff bowed. ¡°As always, remedial reading material can now be found in your textbooks to study at your leisure. In our next class, we will begin the focus of this quarter with the theories of Mana Molding and an introduction to Spell Identification. Dismissed!¡±


    As I trailed behind the rest of the class with Zakira, I lost myself in deep thought regarding Zeff''s lecture and realized there was an event horizon to my magical ignorance. And beyond sat an entire universe of the unknown. I''d hardly even seen the surface, let alone scratched it. I knew I could cast with just my thoughts. I only used my hands for aesthetics when I knew I could afford to- or when I was manipulating. I knew of reinforcing the body with different types of mana and I even knew about curse spells. But I never thought magic could be cast in so many ways.


    ¡®Does that imply that it¡¯s also possible to cast with¡­ my eyes?¡¯ I asked myself. But in hindsight, Toxic Breath was essentially the same thing with my lungs. As was Noxious Step with my feet. ¡®So then, could I also sneeze or fart out of a spell?¡¯ I needed to know and it was both frustrating and exciting that the more time I spent in this place the more questions I ended up having. The more experiments I had that needed doing. If my room wasn¡¯t spell-blocked I could¡¯ve slowed my relative time and worked for hours or even days while mere seconds passed outside. I could do such things at the gym, but I had enough attention drawn to me already. And I didn¡¯t want anyone scrying in on the techniques I was developing.


    It was frustrating. Having to wait and wait and wait to explore and experiment and do as I pleased. My thirst for knowledge was making me hasty in ways that were getting to be quite annoying. It seemed no matter how much I reminded others, I kept forgetting my life expectancy was at least a few centuries. I could take my time.


    But... god damn, did I not want to.


    But that left the issue of what came after. Becoming a high-powered mage added another few centuries on top of my already extensive lifespan. How I had yet to know. But Emperor Deapou was living proof. And then there was the whole undead matter, of which I still had serious reservations; Living Lich or not- not that I knew what such a thing was. Becoming undead would be nice and all, but I¡¯d be pretty upset if I couldn¡¯t enjoy the pleasures of life as a consequence.


    That said, I was also on the path to becoming a god. And everything I learned about my lineage suggested there was another path available to me.


    ¡®Deals, huh?¡¯

 110 - VIXI

    ¡°Vagua.¡± Olga began without warning, prompting me and everyone else but Zakira to settle on the edge of our seats to absorb everything she had to say.


    ¡°The realm of Fiends.¡± She continued. ¡°That moniker is commonly used to explain Demons, Devils, and Vampires alike. But only the former comes from the Vaguan Tree of Life. What¡¯s called a Demon by the commonality are the true Fiends. Among them are imps, oni, yugoliths, and other such creatures. But the most widespread type of them is known to us as the Strifling. In truth, they are humans who evolved from the mana in Vagua over time. They''re not widespread enough to have a strong presence in any community.¡± She added. ¡°But there''s enough for them to not face discrimination within our societies. They are humanoid in appearance, boasting horns, tails, and vibrantly colored skin that matches their personalities like fine silk. In this year¡¯s class of students, there are two. An Infernal Strifling: half-Strifling, half-true demon, named Zarzok. As well as Phelaia.


    ¡°Those two are joined by another from Vagua.¡± She added. ¡°A being with ties to the elemental plane of fire- a Djinni, named Ash. But such beings are rare and not a type of Fiend.


    ¡®A Djinni, huh?¡¯ I nodded in remembrance of the flaming head I saw wandering through the halls on occasion.


    ¡°Appearances aside. Fiends are infamous for their innate abilities.¡± Olga explained, bringing my attention back to her. ¡°Wherein they will often have an affinity to a certain emotion or mental state and use mana to feed off it to physically empower themselves rather than increasing their magical ability. Naturally, a half-fiend could use this ability to recharge their mana or empower their spells as well. Making them exceptionally powerful.


    ¡°Moving on, we have Vampires and Devils. Both have lived in Vagua since time immemorial, but they are not part of the Vaguan Tree of Life. And while Devils are Fiends, Vampires are not.¡± She stated. "There are many theories regarding the origins of the twelve vampire progenitors. Some believe they were born from an undiscovered Tree of Life on some far corner of the Plane. Others think the progenitors came from a single, powerful being, which would technically make them sorcerers. But no one besides vampires themselves knows for sure. They are a type of undead unlike any other. They appear as unaging humans with immense beauty, inhuman strength, and great speed. And though they rely on blood to sustain themselves, they harbor no ill will towards mortals as most undead do. Many of them can be found within respected positions in high society, in fact. Putting their immense knowledge and pools of wealth to use for the good of the city in which they reside. More so, they are considered an entire species of undead, as they are capable of creating lesser versions of themselves that can range from Ghouls to Wendigo. Though these creatures are rarely as benevolent as their masters. As everyone knows, their power is derived from blood. All Vampires can empower themselves with rich blood. But only the Pure Vampires can use blood magic. Their lesser kin simply retains the physical strength, speed, and undying nature of their purer counterparts.


    ¡°The last and perhaps most feared entity to be found in Vagua are Devils.¡± She explained with a sudden aura of trained indifference. I, however, was veritably interested in hearing what she had to say about the distant members of my family tree. I learned almost everything there was to know about Devils and the Under during my time at Corvus Academy. How they lived, how they were created, and how their hierarchy was structured. All of the book stuff, minus the language or anything practical. A mountain more than what the Academy was aware of, I was sure.


    ¡°At their core, Devils appear as regular humans. They have our wide range of skin tones and sometimes, even our hair colors and textures,¡± Olga said with her same indifference. ¡°But that¡¯s where the similarities cease. For one, they appear as if they¡¯re dressed in ostentatious clothing made from darkness. Suits, dresses, and robes that seem as if they belong to royalty. Like demons, they have pupils reminiscent of a reptile or dragon. Only, theirs are ghostly white while the sclera remains black. Like demons, they sometimes have long, curved horns with sharp claws, long tails, jagged teeth, and sometimes even wings.


    ¡°But never call a Devil a Demon or vise-versa!¡± She snapped forward, waving a grim finger. ¡°Any of them will have your head for calling them the other.¡± Following a long pause, she leaned back to erect herself to full height, where she resumed her professional indifference while pacing across the room. ¡°Everything about them is different, you see. Devils have the strictest hierarchy among any creature in all the realms. And they love to talk. They talk and talk and talk with mortals to tempt them into making Deals, giving the Devil ownership of their souls. Something you should never do.


    ¡°If you ever find yourselves confused. Remember three things.¡± She raised her fingers. ¡°One, Devils play but the rules- their rules- while Demons live for chaos. Two, Devils obsess over souls while Demons couldn''t care less for them. Three, Devils come from the Underworld while Demons come from the Seventeen Hells.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the same thing?¡± Samson asked.


    ¡°No.¡± Zakira and I said at the same time.


    ¡°Would one of you like to explain?¡±


    ¡°I would.¡± I raised my hand. Not just for the sake of points or to make them understand the difference. But to correct Olga¡¯s misconception about Deals. Her misconception was one of the few things regarding Devils I could talk freely about. ¡°Imagine this is the Mortal Plane.¡± I held a piece of paper parallel to my desk and gestured to the upper surface. ¡°We live up here, on the Material Plane.¡± I paused to flip the sheet over and show the bottom to everyone. ¡°This is the Underworld. Beneath the Mortal Plane is where Devils are born. It''s where they live. And it¡¯s where unsaved or cursed souls go when they die.


    ¡°Also.¡± I set the paper down to turn my eyes to Olga. ¡°Devils don¡¯t tempt people into making deals. The rule is, they must tell you the terms and conditions upfront and ensure you¡¯re aware of the consequences if you or they breach the contract. Otherwise, it''s a void contract.¡±


    ¡°And the Hells are, sort of, in between the two.¡± Zakira vaguely added that and nothing more.


    ¡°Ah. Yes, thank you both. Ten points to each of you.¡± Olga bowed politely while the rest of the class gave us incredulous or even fearful gazes.


    ¡°Sadly.¡± She sighed. ¡°That is all we know of the creatures of Vagua. But we do know more of its geography.¡± She rebounded with a warm smile as if to give us a little emotional roller coaster. Yet the class seemed to be hung up on what was just said.


    Not that anyone could¡¯ve blamed them.


    ¡°Though the Marulean occupation of Vagua was short and insignificant.¡± She continued. ¡°Through varying means, we¡¯ve managed to paint a picture of life within the Vaguan Realm. We¡¯ve learned that essentially all of the surface is uninhabited by the sentient species. Save one place. The Metallic Metropolis. By all accounts, it is the largest city on the Mortal Plane, existing around the Vaguan Tree of Life itself. Its border stretches far beyond tens of thousands of kilometers. But what¡¯s truly unique about it, is its peace. Every type of fiend imaginable lives in relative harmony with devils, undead, and Striflings who share the land. It is a veritable utopia by their standards only. Only made possible by what lies beneath.


    ¡°Vixi.¡± She stated. Much to everyone but Zakira¡¯s confusion. ¡°Every human to return to Maru in the old days used this mysterious word to describe the Seventeen Layers of Hell. You can liken the Hells to a tower of immense proportions. One that has been embedded into the Mortal Plane¡¯s crust to sit between the Material Plane and the Underworld as explained by Zakira. Each layer is like an isolated realm.¡± She dreamily explained. ¡°The first is below the Metallic Metropolis and is considered its warzone and battlegrounds. It¡¯s a no man''s land. A lawless land plagued by eternal conflict. It is the first level of Hell that houses the conflicts born in the Metropolis above. As such, the wars waged there are among the worst one could ever witness.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°The contrast between the Metropolis above and the First Layer below is not insignificant. But what lies below is far more interesting.¡± She winked. ¡°The following seven Layers of Hell belong to one or more of the reigning Vampire Clans. And similarly, the Demon Families rule the tenth through sixteenth Layers. Like the first Layer, the ninth Layer serves as the battleground for the Vampiric Clans and Demon Families. And the 17th level is the junction point between this life and what comes after.¡±


    ¡®Go ahead and say it.¡¯ I knowingly smirked at her. ¡®It¡¯s where the Gate to the Underworld is.¡¯ Not my gate, but the gate to the Mortal Plane. Grandpa Lich taught me that much. Though, even he couldn¡¯t open it.


    ¡°What makes the Hells deserving of the name is one simple fact.¡± Olga paused to take up the center of the room and give each of us a hard stare. ¡°Every Level of the Hells, the Metallic Metropolis, and much of Vagua¡¯s surface is encased in Negstone. Magic is of no use there. Only might.¡±


    ---


    ¡°Our lesson on Betrarth and the White Wall will be less extensive than our earlier lecture.¡± Olga beamed upon our return to the room. ¡°We¡¯ll begin with the latter. It is the least-explored place in all the Realms minus Youtera. The land of the Giants. An introverted species that has rarely been found to interact with the denizens of Paradise, though are one of the few species found in all realms, with the others being dragons and humanoids. Contrary to the name, giants range in size from two or three meters to the Storm Giants, who can tower over mountains. From what we understand. They want little to do with the other species, seeing us as little more than occasionally annoying gnats.


    ¡°Giants are not the only colossal creatures of the White Wall, however. As Vagua''s mana is attuned to emotional and mental energy, the mana of the White Wall is attuned to gigantism. And it''s home to not just every creature imaginable, but, because of the Tree of Life every biome as well, just like Vagua.¡± She winked. ¡°Mammals, reptiles, forests, and swamps. They all exist in the realms of ice and fire. But other creatures exist there as well. Giant phenotypes of orcs and goblins have been reported there, leading some to suspect humanoid variants exist there as well. Though, with the realms'' immense distance from the sun, few are willing to brave the cold night in an attempt to find them.


    ¡°Four realms exist within the zone. The first two are Cyamis and Taton. Together, they comprise the White Wall¡¯s summit and the land extending beyond. It¡¯s a barren surface. A world that''s almost devoid of air. Yet, life thrives. Mostly in the form of burrowing creatures. Niflheim exists beyond that. The true home of the Giants. A hardly explored realm plagued by frozen mountain ranges and volcanoes of both fire and ice volcanoes that melts deep vales between the ranges and fills the atmosphere with thick air filled with perpetual storms.


    ¡°The last realm is Plane''s End.¡± She solemnly declared for some unknown reason. ¡°Egedil. It is a place mentioned in every theology or pantheon in existence. But one that no mortal soul has dared venture to. For there is nothing to find there but the great empty of the abyss.¡±


    ¡®Yeah.¡¯ I smiled inside. ¡®Which is precisely why It''ll be the last place I go to. Before Nonus.¡¯


    ¡°Betrarth is the second-most explored realm to date,¡± Olga said, once again pulling my drifting thoughts from beneath me. ¡°The primary reason is because of the Nonus-Betrarth portal, existing beyond the fringes of a vassal state of Polaris. However, few people venture through it as of late. The reason is that the Betrarthian tree of life is considered the lowest on the totem pole of Realms in terms of strength. Yet it boasts a similar environment to Nonus. ¡°Its surface was reported to be expansive, to say the least. It contains vast plains and forests that tower to the clouds. Deserts and badlands that outclass continents. Volcanic mountains and tundras rival those found in the Inner Reaches and beyond the White Walls. The ancient pioneers reported every landscape imaginable on the continent to be plagued by gigantism. The plants, the animals, and even the insects were all colossal. But we''ve since learned that to be untrue. The mana present in the ancient realm is attuned to primal energy, you see. Thus the flora and fauna there are highly evolved. And, after living so long, quite large.


    ¡°However, the ones to rule this unclaimed land are the Orcs.¡± She declared. ¡°Below them exists Goblinoids. But a surpassingly extensive record of lesser beings was reported to exist there as well. In general, orcs are well over two meters tall and are several times stronger and more resilient than humans. Most of them live in warbands or nomadic tribes that thrive in both hunting and warfare, but cultured orc civilizations exist as well. They have an innate attunement to nature. Some believe that the Tree of Life used plants as a template to birth the orcs. And it¡¯s because of this that they can manipulate plants as humans can manipulate elements. The orcs that are the more adept at manipulating the forest, however, are known as Shamans. And they¡¯re considerably powerful.


    ¡°It¡¯s due to this that some consider orcs to be not the natural barbarians of the realms; but the natural Druids.¡± She explained, much to many people''s bemusement. But she pressed on. ¡°As stated, though, they¡¯re largely considered the natural Barbarians of the realms. Their exceptional sense of smell makes them excellent hunters and warriors. And they play both roles exceptionally well. Not to mention, they claim different hues and abilities based on their region of choice. Lowland orcs are green and can manipulate grasses and weeds. Black orcs live underground or in caves and can manipulate roots. Blue orcs can manipulate seaweed, and high-orcs, red in color, can manipulate trees, like the Headmaster. He is a half-high orc, half-demon, if anyone was curious.


    "High-orcs are not only stronger and more resilient than orcs, but they are extensively more civilized than standard orcs as well. Often, they are the ones who create orc society. But not always. While most retain their warmongering tendencies, some were found to not only engage in trade with humans but, occasionally, in diplomacy as well.


    ¡°Hobgoblins and Goblins, on the other hand, share no such differences,¡± she said. ¡°One is simply a larger, stronger version of the other. They can manipulate the bones of the deceased to form blades, spikes, or serrated weapons as they need them. But they are rarely a threat when encountered on their own. Like ants, the goblin¡¯s power comes from numbers. In these cases, they can be extremely deadly. But they are not evil creatures.¡± She added. ¡°Goblins are the scavenging kings of Betrarth. Many creatures are above them and constantly remind them of their place. In turn, they do the same to whoever or whatever they believe to be below them. This includes both animals and children alike. Additionally, they often travel alongside Bearbugs, Wargs, and Ogres, all of whom are native to Betrarth. So you would be wise to never underestimate them.


    ¡°In addition to them are the many plant and elemental-based creatures found within the realm. Sentient trees, molds, and spores. Natural golems. Pools of living water, and gelatinous cubes. The most dangerous of those lesser creatures, however, is known as a Slime.¡± Olga declared, almost forcing me to snicker out loud.


    "Without a magical weapon, Slimes are unable to be crushed, stabbed, or cut. Even then, though, if the slime is crushed, stabbed, or cut in a way that doesn''t kill it entirely, it will either splatter and multiply into many slimes, be severed and duplicate, or you will simply anger it.¡± She explained, much to my chagrin. ¡°They come into life with a blue tint and have the consistency of viscous water with mild acidic properties. If one latches onto your face, it will drown you before you dissolve. But what makes them so formidable is their mutability. If you try to use fire to kill that slime attached to your face and fail to succeed, it''ll become a flame slime and your head will feel as if it''s encased in lava. The same is true for lightning, poison, or virtually any other magical affinity. Thus the only way to defeat one is to use a magical weapon or spell to destroy it in one fell swoop.¡±


    ¡®Damn¡­ that¡¯s pretty fucking terrifying.¡¯ I wryly laughed. ¡®But that also poses a question. Could I make a death slime? A shadow slime? Gravitational? Nuclear?¡¯


    ¡°This concludes our lecture for the day,¡± Olga announced to the pleasure of everyone. ¡°Our introductory lessons will conclude with a discussion on the Nonusian Tree of Life before we begin the focus of this quarter. Botany and Horticulture. And, let me be the first to remind you of your first venture through the wilds tomorrow. But keep in mind that it¡¯s a familiarization exercise and nothing more.


    ¡°Before you go! Our last order of business is the establishment of the party and team leaders.¡± She gingerly clapped, looking around the room. ¡°How would you like to decide?¡±\


    Slate¡¯s hand shot up at once. ¡°I suggest we take a vote.¡±


    Surprisingly, the echoes of his idea went around the room and came back to Olga in seconds with an affirmative answer. So we wrote down our votes and placed them in a bucket before heading out into the halls with a free schedule.

 111 - Shocking Truths

    Telin. Mana. Magic. Wells. Affinity Cores.


    Sorcerers.


    Devils. Deals. Curses.


    Classes. Spiritual Bodies. Evolution.


    The Realms.


    The Gods.


    Now that I finally had some time to myself, I thought long and hard about what these things meant and how they applied to me. I knew Telin had an influence on my lineage and magic. I knew I had absurdly powerful mana coupled with groundbreaking affinity cores. I knew I was half-drow, though I knew essentially nothing of my elven side other than the language and a brooch. I was also considered half-devil. Not as a result of being born in the Underworld, from having an ancestor who was an integral part of its existence. And the same with the Shadow Realm. On top of that, I knew I would one day become a god. But that was it, essentially.


    That was all I knew. But based on the things I¡¯ve learned and heard, I assumed I could make deals. Curses. I assumed I¡¯d have a Prestige Class as a result of Sorcery and from whatever my relationship with Telin was. But the assumptions I cared most about regarded the Master Classes. If meditation and emotional control were all that was needed to step down the monastic path, I¡¯ve been there since day one. The Artificer Class too, if I assumed the actions of my past life counted for anything at least. My wealth of knowledge and experience came from spending over a century studying and doing virtually everything short of being a sovereign without pause. In this one, I¡¯ve redesigned more things than I¡¯ve made. But I also had a city back in Maru producing and selling products in my name.


    That had to count for something, I assumed.


    But like all assumptions, those were baseless. Worse, there was nothing I could do to promote them from assumptions to theories besides doing everything I could to step down the paths now. That, and turn my focus towards the things I could brainstorm about. The Realms. Particularly, about what I wanted to do in each of them. About what I wanted to do with Maru. With the portals. With Odissi. With my vassals.


    Going in reverse, I wanted them to lead their own lives after our business in Maru was done. Nothing would make me happier than seeing them with their own estates. With their own districts, brands, companies, and kingdoms. I¡¯d love to see Jaimess and Jonet settle down. I wanted to see Toril retire as a legendary man like Grandpa Lich- something he wanted just as much as I did. I, however, just wanted to explore. To follow my whims with no hints of responsibility or duty. And to do that, I needed more subordinates than just a city and a half dozen vassals. I needed tens, if not hundreds of thousands of highly trained individuals to join my guild so my empire could later flourish without my presence. And so, I decided that now would be the time to recruit.


    Recruit. And try out the laundry list of things I wanted to try. A frustrating endeavor as it was now, as any training environment lacking any prying eyes was locked behind a paywall. I had plans to spend my points elsewhere.


    Although, I supposed keeping my abilities under wraps would be moot after my duel. After all, it was a given that everyone and their mother would be present for the first set of duels for the year. Besides, there was no particular reason for me to hide my power in the first place. Both the teachers and I have already given my identity away. Not that I cared about the opinions of others regarding my being a necromancer- a devil, in the first place. And witnessing my other affinities wouldn¡¯t mean anyone would even understand what they were. So I decided to smother the primal lizard part of my brain and moseyed to the gym after meditating to train, test, and hypothesize to my heart¡¯s content.


    ---


    Come sunrise, the party was gathered in an annex on the far side of our courtyard, edging the towering woodline that would serve to become my training field for the next year.


    ¡°Alright, guys.¡± Doyle huddled us around him with beckoning hands. ¡°You¡¯ll be spending the day roaming the woods as a team. Feel free to explore to your heart¡¯s content. The Headmaster won¡¯t allow you to leave the Zone. So spend your time growing accustomed to the topography. Do some hunting and foraging, or get to know your teammates better. You¡¯re free to take lunch whenever you want. Come three o¡¯clock, you can return to the dorms as a team or remain out here until sundown.


    ¡°Before you go!¡± He called to the quickly dispersing crowd. ¡°The challengers have finalized their duel times and fighting environments. The first set starts at eight tomorrow morning; Corundum versus Elurial. Roheisa Deapou versus Zohnos Lagunath will be at eleven. Zarzok versus Edgar Lope will be at two in the afternoon. And Amun vs Winston will be at six in the evening. You can come and go as you please or otherwise treat it as a day off.


    ¡°That¡¯s all I got.¡± He dismissed us with a wave.


    With that, I led Zakira and the others on an ambiguous heading through the forest to begin taking plants almost at random, as I was eager to read their attributes in my horology book later. But other than that we wandered around aimlessly, plucking plants and strange stones from the ground and studying animals from afar to have our books updated while we conversed about who was fighting and why.


    It was quickly agreed upon that no one in our class was up to duel simply just because. But Slate commented that he was feeling confident enough to challenge Corundum- one of the other Goliaths in their group.


    ¡°If she¡¯s the strongest, what¡¯s your ranking?¡± Peter asked.


    ¡°I am the winner of twelve bouts between the four of us. Thus I am in last.¡± Slate explained with resolute indifference. ¡°Corundum is the winner of fifteen. First place.¡±


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°So, she¡¯s strong.¡± Els huffed as he shrugged with his hands. ¡°You talk like you love her.¡±


    ¡°Her mind is what makes her strong, Elsgril.¡± Slate leaned down with a smile that seemed to infuriate the dwarf beyond belief.


    After seeing their ensuing argument about the proper protocol for addressing those of a shorter stature commence, Peter strode ahead to where Zakira and I were walking to nudge my elbow. ¡°Uhm, Amun?¡±


    ¡°Sup?¡±


    ¡°Are you not worried about your duel?¡±


    ¡°Nah.¡± I snorted.


    ¡°But. He has-¡±


    ¡°An ultimate defense?¡± I smiled at him. ¡°There is no such thing. There are loopholes for everything, you see, because everything has rules. And rules can always be exploited.¡±


    Slate pried himself off Els to rush to our position, nearly huffing. ¡°I would like to hear of these ways.¡±


    ¡°In this case, the easiest way would be to use their defense against them.¡± I shrugged. Then turned to Slate, tapping on my temple with a knowing smirk. ¡°If that doesn¡¯t work, attack the one thing that remains unguarded.¡±


    I could tell Slate didn¡¯t quite catch my drift. But he was at least pondering it rather than outright asking me for the answer. A respectable outcome that saw me leave him to it in favor of searching the area for any of the other teams.


    I¡¯d grown acquainted with mine, but no one else in the party. I needed to change that before I began recruiting. More so, I wanted to speak to Urshure, Duke, and Curious Twig to learn more about their cultures. And possibly their languages. Thankfully, it only took around ten minutes to find the Dragonborne walking by his lonesome a few meters away from team 3. He and Kaolinite were the only non-humans in the group. And he didn¡¯t seem to be very sociable towards anyone.


    But I knew a way around that. Courtesy of Azrael.


    ¡°What do you want, human?¡± He rudely asked after seeing me approach.


    ¡°I¡¯m only half-human.¡± I snorted.


    He simply huffed and turned away while he kept walking. So I followed.


    ¡°I only seek information,¡± I said. ¡°About dragons.¡±


    ¡°Then become a Dragonborne.¡± He huffed. ¡°Or leave.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Fine.¡± I shrugged with my hands, making sure to flash the glasses hanging on my forehead. And thankfully, he took the bait.


    ¡°That device.¡± He squinted. ¡°I detect magic in it.¡±


    ¡®Detect? That wasn¡¯t written in the pamphlets they gave us.¡¯ I squinted suspiciously at him for a few long moments before saying. ¡°It''s enchanted.¡±


    ¡°Give it to me and I will answer a single question.¡± He grunted.


    I acted as if I were thinking about it for a second before taking it off. In reality, my vassals¡¯ lack of night vision is what made me buy the glasses in the first place. And I bought dozens more than what I needed, so I wouldn¡¯t have missed this one at all.


    Besides, it wasn''t as if I would have used it.


    The way he eyed it made it clear he wanted to add it to his horde. As such, this was essentially getting information in exchange for a rock, adding to my amusement as I placed the glasses in his hand along with ten gold coins. ¡°Ask wisely.¡± He grinned smugly.


    ¡°Okay.¡± I grinned back. ¡°Is there such thing as a Void Dragon?¡±


    While I was curious about my dreams, I truly wanted to know more about dragons. By playing up the question, it¡¯d lessen the significance of my true aim, making him more inclined to give a truthful answer in the end. The additional coins were only icing on the cake. This was all about building rapport, after all. If he allowed me to approach without aggression going forward, I¡¯d consider that a huge win. But surprisingly, his scaled head rocked back and forth as he pocketed his treasure.


    ¡°I have heard of such a tale from long ago. A tale from the time before the Platinum Dragon and Queen Tiamat- before any life on the Mortal Plane existed. They suggest that a Cosmic Drake and a Dragon of the Void were the first primordials to ever exist. Entities of energy and entropy. The creators and destroyers of life.¡±


    ¡°My dreams,¡± I commented aloud.


    He seemed confused at my reply but replied nonetheless. ¡°I was unaware the Fae even had dreams.¡±


    ¡°They aren¡¯t exactly dreams,¡± I mumbled, lost in thought. ¡®More like memories of our past lives. Of our ancestors.¡¯


    ¡°Your inquiry proved to be interesting.¡± He grinned wider and gave his bag a quick pat. ¡°I will allow for one more.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± I genuinely smiled. ¡°How would I go about befriending a dragon?¡±


    He stopped in place after hearing my question and stared at me, growling for an endless second. ¡°You wish to tame a dragon?¡±


    ¡°As far as I understand, they¡¯re far more intelligent and powerful than elves even.¡± I snorted. ¡°As far as I¡¯m concerned, such a thing is highly improbable. If not impossible.¡±


    ¡°Hmph.¡± He growled before continuing his pace. ¡°Then you are wise. Even a young dragon would be aware of the fact that it was at the pinnacle of creation. Thus one could never simply tame a dragon, regardless of age. I can see that you are powerful, wise, and wealthy enough to at least be recognized by a dragon. But your alignment will be seen as nothing but a threat to the metallic dragons, excepting iron or perhaps cobalt. And even if you would be recognized or even acknowledged by a chromatic dragon, it would be a safe assumption that it will view you as nothing more than its pet. Do you still wish to proceed?¡± He grinned smugly.


    ¡°I do.¡± I nodded. ¡°And I have more questions.¡±


    ¡°That will require more payment.¡±


    ¡°Will more gold suffice? I asked, reaching into my sleeve.


    ¡°Ten per.¡± He nodded.


    I pulled out fifty and stashed it in his clawed hand. ¡°You mentioned my alignment. First of all, how do you know what mine is? And what does that have to do with the different types of dragons?¡±


    ¡°Metallic dragons worship Bahamut, and are largely considered good,¡± Urshure growled. ¡°Chromatic dragons serve Queen Tiamat and are largely evil. You.¡± He pointed his claw at me. ¡°Are an abomination in the eyes of both.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± I raised a brow.


    ¡°In you, I sense wicked darkness.¡± He said. ¡°That makes you evil by nature. Yet, there is divine light within you. You are a contradiction. An abomination.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that make me neutral?¡± I scoffed.


    ¡°Dragons believe in no such thing.¡± He huffed.


    ¡®Whatever, I got more than I needed.¡¯ I turned away from him with a snort and a wave over my shoulder. ¡°Thanks. Keep the change.¡±


    After separating myself a fair distance, I sat atop a giant root to smoke and shake my head at what I just heard. ¡°Definitely not what I expected.¡± I laughed incredulously.


    It was safe to assume that the ancestor I¡¯d been dreaming of since being born into this world was this... void dragon. Meaning we were devils in more than just name. But that still brought burning questions. What was it? Where were they buried? How long ago did they live? What was their life experience? And most of all, how did that tie into my Sorcery? My Prestige Class?


    The only answer I could find was just an alteration of what I¡¯d already assumed- that I had the potential to evolve into either a devil or some kind of draconic entity. Or perhaps both. But there were also the facts regarding my pre-birth to consider. Regarding Telin and his claims of me being a living god in this world.


    Regarding that, my mother already told me I was a cleric. Thus it would stand to reason that such a Prestige Class would be the catalyst.


    And so, together, I would become a fiendish god.


    A devil deity, If you will.

 112 - Fantastic Duels

    After a night of meditation and lounging around with Zakira, the squad, Opal, and Elijah, we joined the sea of students to migrate to the hub and funnel inside the doors leading into the arena. As before, we entered the antechamber but continued past Zook¡¯s Armory. Aiming for the line of elevators straddling with walls of the corridor beyond. The lifts, wider than your average bedroom, brought large groups to a ringed corridor skirting the outside of the arena proper- an egg-shaped building sitting gently inside the Bodhi Tree¡¯s crown as if it were a bird¡¯s nest. Broken into four sections, the smooth walls were interrupted by rows of spacious balconies or terraces accessed via the exterior corridors by an archway that provided private seats in groups of five for any would-be spectators.


    Quite unbelievably, each section- one for each class and another for the staff, was filled to the brim with roaring spectators leaning over the small railings of their balconies to probe the event into starting already. It took us a while, but the five of us eventually found a place of our own and quickly settled atop the plush seats. Like the gym, they were fashioned with consoles that would not only allow us to spectate with greater clarity. But could serve us drinks and snacks as well. A feature Els took advantage of at once, ordering a barrel of ale that was nearly as large as he was.


    The ring itself was a space of varying topographies measured to be just over two hundred meters long and half the distance wide. A relatively large ring with a hole in the center dominated the middle, while the cardinal directions contained crude renderings of different biomes. A sparse forest to the east, a sand pit to the west, a large lake to the north, and some grasslands to the south; all protected by a near-transparent wall of enchanted glass.


    For once I managed to see Toril, Jaimess, and Ed in the same room as me. But I left our interactions to an exchange of nods for now and took a moment to study their assumed teammates before turning my attention elsewhere. Surprisingly, Toril and Lucia seemed to be on the same team. Or they were becoming an item. Probably both. Either way, there was also a Goliath named Amethyst, who was kindly pointed out to me by Slate, as well as the two Striflings. Zarzok and Phelaia. On the other hand, Jaimess sat with Bazzric, the angry dwarf from Phaegrath, a Triton girl, and Issac Galliard. Winston¡¯s knight and another object of ire for Peter. As for Ed, he was with Mary- one of the Epethian commoners- a Nonusian dwarf girl, and the halfling girl from Phaegrath. Though that was all I saw near him or socializing with him.


    ¡°Good morning, Bodhi Tree!¡± Zeff¡¯s voice boomed, prompting a sudden wave of cheers to permeate the air of the arena. ¡°I, Zeff Yurich, bring to you the first duel of Class Nine-Nine-Nine!¡± Another wave of cheer followed his announcement. Meanwhile, I checked the ¡®screen¡¯ to see a platform rising to fill in the missing gap in the center, bringing a hulking goliath and a red-skinned girl into view. ¡°Fighting for the position of Baker Party''s leader, we have the challenger. The goliath, Corundum!¡±


    Unprompted, the screen focused on the Goliath girl holding her axe overhead like a gladiator champion. Like Slate, her body seemed to consist of half flesh and half sculpted stone that even had some hints of pink as suggested by her namesake. Like a living statue dressed in fur pelts. Angry and ready for war.


    ¡°And the challenged! The half-high orc, Elurial!¡± Zeff shouted, Prompting the screen to shift to the other body in the ring.


    Elurial looked like your run-of-the-mill human. If one were to ignore the pointed ears, red skin, and sharp tusks protruding from her lower jaw. And her size wasn¡¯t inconsiderable either. But still small when compared to her opponent¡¯s stature.


    ¡°Here are the rules!¡± Zeff resounded again. ¡°Taking your opponent''s life is forbidden. And continuing to fight after the match has been called or leaving the arena shall count as an immediate defeat. That includes planar shifting! Besides that, there are no rules. The match will be called when one of you faces or accepts defeat.


    ¡°You have ten seconds to prepare or reposition!¡± Zeff suddenly announced. And without delay, the two darted to reposition themselves while Zeff began his countdown.


    Corundum simply moved to the outcroppings of stone and faced Elurial with a calm demeanor while the latter raced for the trees, repositioning herself just before the woodline to begin pooling mana from her Well. Which I saw through the screen, surprisingly. As clearly as if I saw it through my own eyes.


    ¡°Fight!¡±


    Elurial snapped into action at once with a thrust of her arms, sending a cone of vines rocketing from the treetops in Corundum¡¯s direction; who simply waited and maintained her position until the last moment to sidestep and slice into the vines with her axe. Over and over with a shocking deftness for someone of her stature.


    With her initial volley ripped to shreds, Elurial swung her arms down to bring another shower of vines down on the goliath¡¯s head. Corundum, ever calm, dove to her right at the last moment and rolled over her shoulder to right herself into a pitcher''s stance in the same motion. And with a guttural roar, she slung her giant fist full of stones in Elurial¡¯s direction.


    Elurial seemed to panic at that moment. Her eyes darted to each side in search of some cover before giving up entirely, choosing instead to become like water and stream her body around the incoming stones with little success. In her shoulder and hip, she was pelted and thus stunned for a few tide-turning moments. Seeing her chance, Corundum tossed her weapon aside and took up a sprinter''s stance, then kicked off the ground, closing the distance in just a few surprisingly quick steps to deliver a stone-cracking lariat to Elurial¡¯s neck.


    Much to my surprise, Elurial quickly righted herself after cartwheeling through the air and let out a blood-curdling roar. As if in response to her rage, the tree behind her began to spawn an unnatural growth that soon took the shape of a crude club. With another guttural scream, Elurial reached behind her to clamp her hand around the club and brought it down overhead. And almost without trying, Corundum sidestepped and plugged her face with a swift straight.


    And then the slugfest ensued.


    In her rage, Elurial''s fighting was sloppy. She swung with wild abandon, making it far too easy for Corundum to bob and weave and plug her face and body with more of her heavy punches. Followed by more. And more. Until the half-high orc eventually fell stone-cold to the ground.


    ¡°See.¡± Slate nudged Els and I with a wide grin settled on his face.


    ¡°She has good tactics.¡± I shrugged. ¡°But I can¡¯t say throwing her weapon away was a wise choice.¡±


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Following the duel, we did as everyone else did and lounged around until the next set started. For me, that consisted of smoking in the courtyard while I picked apart Corundum and Elurial¡¯s battle to glean any information I could.


    In terms of endurance, it was clear the Goliaths would almost always come out on top. Almost. Other than that, they had no discernible features besides their innate strength and defense. And a surprising amount of speed. Elurial, on the other hand, could¡¯ve been a problem for Corundum given the right environment. In an area like the Wilds, she¡¯d be at the biggest advantage imaginable. That, however, was equalized if not smothered by her hotheadedness. At least until she could learn to use her rage.


    A few hours later and I was back in the arena. Fighting back from jeering along with the rest of the crowd to try and probe the match into starting. Luckily, however, I had something to distract myself. Namely the ring. Which had been elevated and changed to resemble a beach. Half sand and half a deep pool of dark blue water.


    ¡°Attention! Attention!¡± Came Zeff¡¯s clapping. ¡°We will now begin the second event of the night! A challenge for the rights to lead Apple Party.¡± As before, the central lift ascended to reveal the two competitors in tune with Zeff¡¯s words, prompting yet another thunderous roar to pour down from the stands. ¡°We have the challenger, Zohnos Lagunath!¡± He gestured to the Triton. A blue-scaled individual with flowing green hair much like Opal described. Holding his trident high, he rotated in a full circle upon hearing his name declared. Smiling ear-to-ear while his opponent was the polar opposite.


    ¡°And the challenged, Roheisa Deapou!¡±


    Ignoring the cheers aimed at her, Roheisa stared- scowled at her opponent in a way that made one assume the worst. In a way, it was unsettling. I¡¯ve seen her upset and I¡¯ve seen her angry. But never like this. She didn¡¯t even react to Zeff explaining the rules. She just kept staring. Flexing her hand over the hilt of her sword.


    ¡°Ten seconds! Get ready!¡±


    The moment Zeff spoke, Roheisa began withdrawing mana from her Cores and drew her short sword. Before the count of eight, a strong magnetic field had been formed around her body- encased in a thick layer of steel and crystals. Then, as if she wasn''t done, she flexed her free hand to conjure a steel hand axe tipped with a blunted crystal blade.


    ¡°Fight!¡±


    The still-smiling Zohnos leaped into action before she did, rushing forth to meet her and halt his momentum with a powerful stomp before thrusting his trident in front of him. Roheisa, however, kept advancing. She kept sprinting. Letting the trident twang off of her skin while closing the distance to swing her weapons down from overhead with a guttural roar. And without relenting, she kept swinging. Kept advancing. Kept Zohnos on the retreat almost effortlessly. But Zohnos matched her in turn.


    They were evenly matched for more than a few moments. Zohnos, deflecting against Roheisa¡¯s assault with an almost graceful flair. And Roheisa, pressing forward like a wingless Valkyrie. The passing of those moments brought about a change in Roheisa. Her constant assault resulted in a buildup of electricity within her, sending small arcs streaking in the wake of her attacks and augmenting her speed to a level that Zohnos struggled with.


    For a time.


    Shocking the entire crowd, Zohnos parried Roheisa and leaped back to gain some distance, then raised his trident overhead to seemingly invoke a surge of mana to condense into crackling blue energy. Then he lunged forward again, matching Roheisa¡¯s electricity with arcs of his own.


    Again, they were evenly matched. Each swing, thrust, and kick from Roheisa was parried, countered, and dodged until Roheisa¡¯s magma began working in the same manner as her magnetism. Making her hotter. Angrier. More enraged with each second that passed until she was eventually glowing red-orange.


    The tide came when Roheisa lunged to take a swing at Zohnos¡¯ ribs. Though he dodged, the charged steel slag spraying in the wake of her attacks served to singe the Triton across his chest. Seemingly enraged, Zohnos thrust his hand forward. Ejecting a pillar of charged water in Roheisa¡¯s face. And with a roar, Roheisa countered Zohnos¡¯ water with a stream of magma ejected from her mouth, vaporizing his attack and most of the small pool behind him into a rapidly expanding cloud of steam and igneous rock.


    Unrelenting, Roheisa rushed through the vapor to close the distance, bringing her blunted edges down on Zohnos¡¯ shoulders with crowd-wrenching cracks before winding back her axe to deliver a devastating uppercut to Zohnos¡¯ chin. Knocking him out cold.


    In short, it was more along the lines of the magic fight I expected. Looking from the outside in, it was nothing less than spectacular. Especially considering she merged what I taught her with the techniques given to her by her father.


    ---


    ¡°Oh? I¡¯m surprised you showed up.¡± Peter commented upon seeing me return.


    It was clear why Peter wanted to see it. There was probably no drug in the Planes that¡¯d give Peter a better high than watching Winston¡¯s knight get mopped by a Fiend.


    ¡°I¡¯m curious to see what everyone¡¯s powers are.¡± I amiably shrugged and took up the seat next to him. Then remained silent until Zeff¡¯s clapping resounded through the room.


    ¡°Our first duel of the night arranged for disrespect! We have the challenger, Edgar Lope!¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± I looked over the edge with a snort to see a young boy similar in appearance to Winston, standing in plated armor across from a nonchalant Zarzok. ¡°So he¡¯s either strong or dumb. I¡¯d bet my entire life savings I know which one it is.¡±


    ¡°And how much is that?¡± Els muttered into his mug.


    ¡°Enough to start a guild and have leftovers.¡± I snorted. Almost causing him and Peter to choke on different things.


    I knew this match would go one of two ways. Either it would end absurdly fast, or Zarzok would play with his food. Based on the papers from Olga, Zarzok wasn¡¯t just a Strifling but a Strifling with the blood demon running through his veins- an Infernal Strifling. Accordingly, his demonic blood made him stronger than the average Strifling. But like them, he retained the ability to strongly manipulate fire and weakly bend earth. And having an affinity for pride made him the worst possible opponent for anyone who affiliated themselves with the proud Winston Epeth. Zarzok essentially had buff after buff just by standing right in front of him. And he knew it. As his eyes were flicking between Winston and a few other faces in the crowd as if they were standing out like torches in the Shadow Realm.


    ¡°Fight!¡±


    With but a flick of the finger, Zarzok conjured a wall of flame that nearly touched the ceilings, causing the enchanted ¡®windows¡¯ to kick into overdrive in an attempt to absorb the spillover.


    Edgar countered using manipulation to split the flame apart and leap back to gain some distance. Just in time too. As Zarzok had leaped meters forward through the flames and came down with his fist where Edgar was standing, dimpling and cracking the rough stone beneath him.


    With a heavy sigh, Zarzok then rose to his full height and turned to face Edgar, a pained expression on his exotic visage. ¡°Where¡¯d all your pride go?¡± I heard him ask. ¡°You had so much. Now, there¡¯s so little. But no matter.¡± He shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s plenty of pride to go around.¡±


    Curiously, he looked at the staff seating and let out a soft chuckle before lunging forth with enough speed to permit the use of the Chrono Dial to see it. But even then, he moved fluidly through the slowed world. His nails- black and extended into centimeters-long razors, unmercifully dug under Edgar''s armor to settle above his hip. Upon accelerating the flow of time to its normal rate, a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the arena just before a loud "Oof!" rang from the crowd, followed by an almost endless period of silence interrupted only by the blood dripping onto the ground.


    Suddenly, a flash of light burst into the arena, revealing the blonde woman by the Headmaster¡¯s side, kneeling over Edgar while the teachers stood between the disemboweled Epethian and Zarzok, retreating with his hands up and a demonic smile spread across his face.


    Instead of moving him, Felicity simply held her finger above the wound. Then a radiant light filled the space. One so bright that even I almost had to shield my eyes from it.


    Almost.


    Interestingly enough, Edgar seemed to be at ease while he was being healed, for he smiled and even cooed as if he was in heaven, straddled in the arms of an angel. Unlike my necrotic healing, which was so horrendously painful that I was sure mortals saw it more as torture. Even if they were otherwise healthy.


    But, of course, that was preferable for me.

 113 - Fear

    Winston Epeth.


    ***


    ¡°One hour left.¡± I sighed, rising from my seat. ¡°It¡¯s about damn time.¡±


    ¡°I will say again that this is unwise. Your embarrassment- your pride, will be your downfall.¡±


    ¡°Will you shut up, Duccec!¡± I spat at him. ¡°Leave me be!¡±


    ¡°I cannot.¡± He stepped to follow me, shaking his feathery head. ¡°We are a team. A single entity.¡±


    Luckily, Rhody and Toni were nowhere to be found. So the only annoyances came from Twig and this feathered bastard as I made my way to the arena. I¡¯d have to pluck him at some point. But for now, his words rang true. We were a team. And I wouldn¡¯t have my points diminished just because he annoyed me.


    But once we changed teams...


    ¡°I will see you at the end of your bout.¡±


    Ignoring him, I veered away to enter Zook¡¯s Armory and give two firm knocks on the desk.


    ¡°Hi, hi! Welcome, welcome!¡± Shouted the gnome before he rounded the corner and saw me. Then threw his arms forward in a welcoming gesture and smiled. ¡°Winston! Hello, hello! How may I help you today? Bet you need your gear? That you do! Well alright! Step right through the door here and I¡¯ll help get you sorted.¡±


    ¡°Uh, yes. Thank you.¡± I stepped through the door with a groan.


    Inside was a room shaped like a cooking pot when viewed from above. The pot itself was a run-of-the-mill armory. Filled with nothing more than an abundance of weapons and armor racks with sheets draped over them and the tools to keep them maintained. But the handle from where I entered- a corridor, led to two courtyards meant to be our dressing rooms. One vacant and one occupied. Taking the only one available, I stepped through and watched the setting sun until I heard Zook¡¯s shuffling.


    ¡°Here you go! All set. Let me know if you need anything else.¡± He waddled in and out with nothing more than a wave. Then I heard his shouting again once my door closed and another one opened.


    Alright then! As I was saying, the Grand-¡±


    Sneering, I turned away from the door to inspect my pride and joy before donning it. It was a set of armor unlike any seen in the House of Epeth. Greener than the richest fields in our land, accented with silver and gold and formed in such ways that even dragons would be made jealous. Accompanied by my sword and collapsable shield, stored inside the forearm, it truly made me the one to stand at the forefront of my great empire and lead it to greatness.


    Putting on, however, was a different story. I should¡¯ve listened to Mother. About many things. But especially about this.


    Eventually, though, I got it right. And then I waited.


    And waited.


    And waited for the final hour to tick by.


    ¡°Hi, hi! It¡¯s time, it''s time!¡±


    ¡°Finally!¡± I groaned and all but skipped to the door. Only to see the object of my ire- my opponent. Wearing nothing more than a golden sash tied off at the waist and his school uniform. No weapons. No armor. Just his scrawny elven self.


    ¡°Alright, here are the formal rules. You may prepare spells or techniques during the countdown. And then you fight! Lady Felicity is a Light Witch. So you can fight without holding back. But you can¡¯t kill! That comes later!¡± He guffawed. Much to both of our apparent interests. ¡°You can use any weapon. Any magic. Any spell. Just can''t go to a separate dimension or plane and you can¡¯t leave the ring. Any questions?¡±


    ¡°What about points?¡± I asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s up to the instructors and the Headmaster. I don¡¯t know the specifics. Don''t really care,¡± he cheerfully said. ¡°But it¡¯s usually no more than one hundred per duel if I remember correctly.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I sighed.


    ¡°Alright. The one who has been challenged has already decided the terrain. So.¡± He gestured to the end of the main corridor. ¡°Into the ring you go!¡±


    ¡®Alright.¡¯ I sighed deeply, closing my eyes. ¡®Remember the stories. Watch the shadows. Watch your feet. Quell your fear. Ignore the summons, aim for the summoner.¡¯


    Repeating the mantra, I fell into a rhythm of deep breaths to calm myself while the lift ascended ever so slowly.


    ¡°I¡¯ll show you half.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I turned on my heels.


    But Amun didn¡¯t reply. He only looked at me. Stared into my eyes with no traces of fear or aggression, malice or mercy in his. And he kept staring.


    ¡°The final duel of the evening! Another challenge for disrespect!¡±


    Even with Mr. Yurich¡¯s announcement- even with the lift completing its ascent, Amun kept staring unblinkingly.


    ¡®He¡¯s just playing mind games.¡¯ I sighed and turned away for a quick scan of my surroundings. Only to see square tiles as far as the eye could see. No stones or trees or anything else that could cast a shadow.


    Just him. And me.


    ¡°We have the challenger, Winston Epeth!¡±


    Naturally, my posture straightened upon hearing my name. I tossed my inhibitions away and focused on the task at hand- who was still staring at me. Even while Zeff shouted. ¡°And the challenged, Amun!


    ¡°Ten seconds! Get ready!¡±


    I moved at once, kicking off the ground to place my shadow in front of me while I withdrew mana into my cores and kept them on the precipice of being extracted. Amun, however, remained in place. He didn¡¯t even turn his body to face me. He simply looked over his shoulder so he could keep staring at me blankly.


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    ¡°Fight!¡±


    He pivoted abruptly and I reacted immediately, pulling my barrier mana into my hand to prepare a counter, then stopped as I realized he¡¯d only raised his hand to point two fingers at me.


    And then I felt it. A surge of mana sent my mind reeling back to a month before, forcing my eyes to grow wide just as arcs of crackling danced over his fingers. In a panic, I raised my arm and poured mana into it, spurring the enchantment within to spew out barrier after barrier to protect me from that horrendous spell. But it never came. Not at first.


    Huddled behind my shield, I was forced to listen to the sharp crackling intensify into a draconic roar for what felt like hours. And after that endless moment, the world turned white. Bringing with it a hellish heat that probed my barrier to sear my flesh and force me into a smaller position behind my shield before the giant''s hammer fell with a deafening roar. All I bore witness to was a scale-shattering crack before my knee slammed into the ground and I found myself pushed back by several meters. And then, as quickly as it came, it stopped.


    Looking through my barrier, I saw a cone of pits and craters and loose rubble stretching between the two of us. Endless points of darkness from which he could emerge. Upon reinforcing my barrier, I began to scan the area until I saw Amun, still staring blankly with his hand held out before him, palm down; but now with a distinct purple glow in his eyes that saw an absurdly dense domain spread across the field.


    Reflexively, I spawned another barrier between us and scanned the environment for any noticeable changes. Only for the world to tip beneath me. As if the ground had turned into a wall, I stumbled, tripped, and slammed my back against the floor. Then rolled and tumbled and eventually plummeted toward the far end of the ring. Instinctively, I conjured a barrier behind me and cursed as it met my back with great force and clamored to my feet with a thrust of my hand, spawning a staircase of repeating barriers leading right to the bastard. Then I charged, conjuring and slinging sharp scales at him along the way. In return, he just stared. Watched me approach and ignored the projectiles veering off-course on their own.


    Sneering inside, I sent out a few Barrier Bullets formed into looping curves and watched the scales grind and curve around to strike him in the rear. Seemingly without effort, and while still staring, Amun sidestepped two of the scales but seemed to notice the last one far too late. Too late even for an elf. So I excitedly dashed forward to introduce him to my sword as well. Only for the scale to just¡­ stop in place. Suspended just a meter before him. Spinning and whirling through the air as if it were actually going somewhere.


    Cursing under my breath, I tried to cast out another spell but was outmatched by him pointing his finger overhead, causing the world to once again tilt beneath me.


    As if I dove off a cliff, I plummeted. Upwards. Towards the ceiling at a frightening rate until I threw my arm behind me to save myself with a scale-breaking crack. Squinting through the pain, I saw an inverted Amun and scowled, pulled mana from my cores, and stomped to my feet to thrust my arm forward, casting a barrier to contain him while I mended my armor with my other arm and sneered. ¡°Come fight me, you bastard!¡± I refused to allow him to keep playing these games with me. But he just continued staring and flicked his finger down.


    Before I could move, the pull on me shifted and I was hurtling toward the ground with no chance of catching myself. I could only continue reinforcing my armor, cradle my head in my arms, and hope the barrier surrounding Amun held up.


    The fall was only a few meters away from the surface but I may as well have jumped from the heavens. The impact cracked the tiles beneath me, flattening my body into a plank of flesh and cracked scales with enough force to make me mimic the sounds of dying waterfowl. Then the world tipped again. Before I could even catch my bearings, I started sliding again. Forward this time. Plummeting- tumbling right towards Amun and that sickening smile.


    I clawed and fought against it, using barriers as stepping stones and scales to dig canyons into the tile. I fought and clawed desperately, fighting tooth and nail to no avail, for his sickening whisper rang against my ears like a bell. ¡°The first spell.¡±


    ¡°Fuck!¡± Spinning onto my back, I raised my sword high; only for it to lower upon realizing I was no longer sliding- and upon seeing Amun''s cold stare from behind my barrier.


    ¡°The first spell was half of my mana,¡± he said. ¡°But this costs next to nothing.¡±


    So saying, he raised his hand ever-so-slowly and looked into my eyes as his palm became¡­empty. It was as if some strange force had grown to encompass his arm, creating a blank spot in reality that only resembled a hand. And with a single swipe from overhead, it parted my barrier in two. Disappeared it before my eyes while the rest of the shell remained intact. Until he swept his arm again. Causing another streak of my family''s birthright to disappear and be forgotten until there was nothing left but Amun, staring at me blankly.


    ¡°How- how dare you!¡± I lunged forward with a wide swing.


    Amun snapped into action at once, folding his elbow and raising his shoulder to cover his neck and head before seemingly leaning into my attack, burying the blade into his tricep and shoulder. And with his ever-present stare, he uncoiled his arm around to dislodge and grab hold of my sword, prying it from my shocked grip to chuck it overhead before his fist, imbued with something arcane, clenched and fell onto my scaled heart like a great hammer. My beloved scales shattered at the moment of impact and rebounded as a cone of jagged shards that formed crimson streaks as they rained over his arm, neck, and face. But either unnoticing or uncaring, Amun reeled back for another punch.


    My scales were running thin. Thus I turned to the tried and true method of protecting myself against such a powerful punch. In turn, I gleefully watched his hand get crushed and mangled by the barrier formed between us. But my mirth was stolen at once.


    For the first time since we got off the lift, Amun took his eyes off me to look at his hand. Thus I followed his gaze to the gruesome sight. Flesh hung loosely from the shoulder he used to block my blade, revealing yellowed bone encased in a syrupy coating of blood that soaked down his hand. The fingers on his other hand were cracked and bent into horrendous angles, causing the skin to be twisted and warped loose from the muscle and bone. And yet, Amun simply stared at it as if he was... amused.


    When his eyes turned back to me, that amused sneer changed into something malevolent, triggering a cacophony of bone-chilling cracks to fill the air. Before my eyes- before everyone¡¯s eyes, Amun¡¯s fingers unnaturally bent back into shape. The skin unraveled and pulled itself taut. His muscles folded back on themselves to conceal the bone once more. Leaving, in the end, a blood-stained arm and a puddle of blood around the scrawny elf; moving for the first time since our duel began.


    He stepped in my direction and stared. Smiling- sneering as he walked at a leisurely slow pace. Stepping back, I did a scan of the surroundings in search of my weapon. Only to be distracted by Amun pointing overhead.


    ¡°It¡¯s up there.¡±


    I chanced a look and spotted it easily, drifting along the ceiling like a leaf in the wind. It was a sight I lingered on for too long, for when I looked down, Amun was gone. I wheeled around at once and felt something dull slam against my chest. Stumbling back, I saw Amun reeling his bloodied leg back. Then I felt another, stronger shock. Followed by the scattering of another scale. Creating another shower of jagged scales to rain down on him. Yet, Amun attacked again, wheeling his leg around to dig his heel into my kidney with almost inhuman strength. Eventually, I was forced onto my stomach to cower in the mercy of his blows- his dreadful punches and accursed stomps, which impacted against my body with more force than almost anything I felt before. Again and again, each with more power than the last, until my armor was reduced to nothing but its frame.


    And though his body was reduced to a mangled mess, he healed, then emitted the softest grunt he could muster to leap off the ground and remain in midair for an eternal moment; staring at me, staring at his legs coiled tightly against his chest before his soles accelerated towards me at an impossible speed.


    The pain was but an afterthought. As if my perception of time had been slowed, I watched his feet pulverize my stomach and ribs in vivid detail. Blood, food, snot, and a number of fluids I couldn''t name flew from my mouth and nose before I even departed from Amun''s foot. Then, as I tumbled head over heels, the pain came. Then¡­ everything felt distant.


    Dark.


    Cold.


    My vision returned sometime later. Hazed and distorted though it was. At least until the jarring, throbbing pain chasing it passed me by. It encompassed my entire being. At least until the warmest and most gentle thing one could imagine enveloped me. But then my vision cleared. Helping me to my feet were Mr. Wolfgang and the other instructors standing around with mixed expressions, but all staring at me.


    Just like Amun, standing across the way. Staring at me with the same blank expression.

 114 - Mental Bending

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Excellent display.¡±


    My head nodded in tune with Doyle¡¯s compliment, but my eyes stayed trained on Winston until Felicity came in to heal him with her witchcraft and he met my gaze one last time. Only then did I turn to Doyle with the same smirk I¡¯d been giving Winston.


    ¡°Glad to see you¡¯re having fun!¡± He laughed. ¡°You earned yourself a hundred points. And the Headmaster wanted me to tell you, your meeting with him has been approved. But it may take some time. The beginning of the year is always a bit hectic.¡±


    ¡°No worries.¡± I shrugged. ¡°He can take his time.¡±


    ¡°Alright then.¡± He sighed. ¡°Enjoy the rest of your weekend. And.¡± He turned halfway back with a grin. ¡°Make sure you check your mail.¡±


    ¡°Will do.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°Would you like me to heal you?¡±


    Turning, I saw Felicity''s radiant eyes before looking down to see my ankles swollen from the impact of my kick. With only a sliver of False Life, I healed myself to tip-top condition and gave her a quick smile. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine what you¡¯ve gone through to be so tolerant of pain.¡± She bobbed in genuine amazement. ¡°You should consider Witchcraft. Even if you¡¯re aiming for your own guild, it¡¯s a good skill to have.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not altruistic enough to work as a Witch.¡± I snorted.


    ¡°Well, I tried.¡± She walked away, shrugging. ¡°Do you.¡±


    With Winston gone ahead of me, I meandered down the lift and to the far end of the cafeteria to sit under a great black tree for my evening meal and smoke session in blissful silence. The tree was part of the reason why I fancied sitting out here- the others being its inconspicuousness and proximity to the surrounding wilds, but it also provided a twilight-esque shade and a gelid breeze that reminded me of home. Minutely so. Regardless, times such as now made it easy to lose myself in a thoughtless daze.


    And so it came as a surprise to come to and find not only my team huddled around my table, but that they¡¯d been followed by the vampire duo and a lot of others from our party as well. They, however, seemed to shy off to the sidelines as if to probe the others into speaking first. Most of them, at least.


    ¡°I attempted to persuade Winston into reconsidering his duel. I have failed to help him understand that he mustn¡¯t yield to anger. Regardless, I hope he has learned this lesson and can now put his pride aside.¡± Duke lowered his beak in a regal bow. ¡°I hope the both of you can move past this.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± I sighed. ¡°That depends on him. But I agree.¡±


    ¡°Slate was correct. You are a skilled human halfling.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, but I¡¯m only half-human,¡± I said. Not even turning to face the gruff source. ¡°And I¡¯m not a halfling. I¡¯m drow.¡±


    ¡°The difference is negligible.¡±


    Wincing, I turned to see a goliath. But neither Slate nor Kao. One sculpted and dressed like a woman. A burly one, with fists larger than my head. ¡°I am Corundum, the most skilled and accomplished of the four Goliaths present. I have come to tell you that I vowed to devote myself to overcoming your abilities.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± I rocked back in my seat and took a second to put a face with the near-featureless animated statue I saw earlier. Then I leaned in toward her, squinting skeptically to ask. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°For the challenge!¡± She beamed. And so too did Slate, Kao, and Amethyst. A trait of their species, I assumed, and thus shrugged it aside to take a quick scan of the others.


    Another Felipian was here. Only, this one had almost no hair and wore a loose set of pants paired with a thin tunic. While he said nothing, he was curious like his companion, given the way he intently turned his large eyes to watch and listen to whoever happened to be muttering within the crowd. But aside from there there weren''t many significant faces, so I continued to eat and mingle with them before heading back to my room.


    For once, Zakira didn¡¯t follow. Of that, I was glad. While I didn¡¯t exert myself that much. I did more social interaction than I would¡¯ve normally and was feeling quite drained. So I decided to head off for some sleep and wake up in the middle of the night for my long-awaited bender.


    ---


    Unsurprisingly, I saw Zakira upon returning to the common area several hours later. Surprisingly, however, she strode forth to wrap her arms around me and just stayed there, humming to herself with her head pressed into my shoulder.


    Lost in surprise, I stood there for a moment before returning the gesture and holding it for a few moments for sighing. ¡°We can do the thing.¡±


    ¡°Really!?¡±


    ¡°Ears!¡± I groaned. ¡°My ears.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Her lips quivered as if she were on the verge of tears and reached her hands up to cradle my ears ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re alright.¡± I pulled her hands down and let them go with a sigh. ¡°But it¡¯ll have to wait until sunrise.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± She nodded like a child bribed into eating vegetables with dessert. ¡°To the courtyard?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to a much better place.¡± I grinned. ¡°The library.¡±


    ¡°Nah, that¡¯s boring.¡± She fell almost lifelessly back into her seat. ¡°I¡¯ll be here.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± I shrugged. ¡°See you.¡±


    I made a short detour around the courtyard to smoke before migrating towards my destination. Ten points and a slew of curses later, I stepped into an interior of polished wood, marble floors, and lush carpets that extended from the threshold to the main floor at the center. Round, expansive, and sunken into the floor, the central space was a tiered hub dominated by a tall and verdant plant that filled the room with a cinnamon-citrus aroma and most likely imbued some type of effect on the occupants. The two levels leading up to it had been filled with the same plant-like chairs, benches, and tables for the occupants while the final step served as a walkway granting entry to the alcoves surrounding the space.


    I noticed a few interesting faces as I made my way around. The first of which was Zohnos and Zarzok; the former slowly paced down the aisles with his hands clasped behind his back while the latter lounged on a bench in some ambiguous section to look over both the aisles and the entrance with a curious grin. The elf was here as well, sitting cross-legged at the center of a pile of books related to mana while he studiously read, ignoring everything around him. I, however, paid them little-to-no mind as I continued through the space, mapping it out in my mind.


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    Each alcove was shaped like a piece of pie, with rows and rows of bookcases branching off from a similar hub seen in the main area; only smaller. Each was dedicated to a particular field of study and accessible by paywalls of varying natures. Frustratingly so.


    The first was accessible to everyone who paid to enter the library, and was titled ¡®Tales.¡¯ Going inside, I learned the books were free to read and, as the name suggested, were filled with stories and biographies of mystics sent to the school by their alumni. What was truly fascinating, however, was what sat in the middle. A rendition of the Mortal Plane that was most certainly not to scale. It stood on a dais ringed with dozens of enchantments that, according to the attached sign, served as a link to each tale found on the shelves.


    Laughing incredulously, I reached for the nearest book and gave it a quick scan before tapping it on the ring. Its title was Fjord¡¯s red winter, and, as advertised, the map¡¯s surface warped and zoomed in on an ambiguous region of northern Nonus to highlight Fjord¡¯s trails and trials. Following that, I decided to mess around for a bit and in doing so, learned the true extent of the Polaris Empire, which started as a simple hamlet with the same name, formed by the head of New Dawn way back when. Since then, the military has expanded in all directions but east- for obvious reasons. Three divisions were formed and given a cardinal in which to march. And they¡¯ve been crossing the untamed, mana-rich biomes of Nonus ever since. Paving the way for civilization to spread in their wake.


    In doing so, they claimed a fair bit of land going into Nonus¡¯ depths, but that was a far cry from what they claimed on the surface. Their territory branched off from the main bulb that was the City of Light, Polaris'' capital city-state. From there, small tendrils of light extended north, nearly to the White Wall, and as far south as the Steamline. Even an island fairly close to Betrarth was claimed, appearing as a landmass similar to Madagascar at this scale.


    Therein sat the portal leading to the verdant world of Betrarth, found on the opposing side of that Cretaceous island claimed by their first sister empire. The only other portal- the one they came through from Maru, had been sealed beneath dense stone and a thick jungle, far from the City of Light- a plus for me.


    With that done, I attempted to scan other areas around the map to plan out a route around the Mortal Plane. But sadly, the clarity dropped as the focus rose until I was left with a foggy screen that looked like an unexplored map in a video game. So I decided to come back later and moved on to the second alcove, labeled, ''Tomes.¡¯ The space was similar in design to the first and free to enter, but pay to read. As implied by the name, it was advertised to hold all the Bodhi Tree¡¯s knowledge regarding the beginning, intermediate, advanced, and higher-tiered magical affinities documented throughout the last millennia and a half; all organized by type and scaled by power levels.


    To put it another way, it was a library for grimoires. unsurprisingly though, I found nothing relating to my affinities besides the variants of electromagnetism and a few tomes related to warp and spatial magic. No darkness, death, or void. And certainly nothing regarding gravitation or nuclear magic. But via scanning, I was able to ascertain the nature of six documented affinities relating to electricity. Spark Magic was at the lowest, followed by Charge Magic and then Electric Magic- surprisingly by that very name. Still, however, Lightning Magic was listed above it. So I bit the bullet and paid five coins to peruse a basic scroll.


    Much to my surprise, Lightning Magic was common in those with an electrical lineage and a parent with a water or wind-based affinity, like Toril. Evidently, the effect was an inherent and minute control over wind and water. But it was still lesser than the more-powerful electric-type affinities. Storm, and Tempest Magic.


    ¡®Great, now he''ll live up to his name even more.¡¯ I snorted in remembrance of all the days we missed out on rain during our travels. All because Toril wanted to steal storm after storm after storm from nature.


    All but one.


    That said, it also provided a foundation for a few more experiments. As did another closely related affinity: Plasma Magic. Grinning wide from a heart burning with passion, I turned away from making any other purchases to move on to the apple of my eye. The final and smallest alcove that went by the beckoning name of ¡®Paths.¡¯


    I didn¡¯t even care about the price to enter- 100 points. Such a steep price was understandable and so too were the tomes. Somewhat at least. The tales, however, were more or less common knowledge and should¡¯ve been accessible from the start. Or rather, the library should¡¯ve been free to enter from the start. But this was a summarization of the Paths that''d been compiled from the tens of thousands of mystics who came before. It was an almost guaranteed way to stumble down the path of a Master Class- a fucking cheat code. A tried and true way to start at a higher level or be granted a unique Subclass tied to your abilities. And the greatest thing of all was that its entirety was free to read after the initial price was paid- and I still had 130 points left to spend.


    It was like paying for something in copper and getting the change back in gold. A feature I intended to fully exploit. Starting with the Artificer section.


    ---


    Even with my Eternal Eye, I spent a total of seven hours perusing the different paths. Through that, and my conversations with Zook before my duel, I was able to not only confirm my suspicions regarding the Class but put together a list of the perks I could expect to receive as well. On top of that, I went through each of the other Paths to gain a better understanding of the rituals and skills one needed to perform or master to step down them in the first place before doing the same with the hundreds of Subclasses. Endeavors that took up the majority of my time. But not nearly as much as I did with the Monk Paths.


    While I made sure to record the Subclasses in my Eye, I dedicated hours toward understanding what I need to do to obtain the Class in the first place and elected to begin practicing them at once.


    And obviously, use it as leverage in my recruitment scheme as well.


    With my deed for the day done, I meandered back to the dorms to find Zakira sitting in the same spot I¡¯d left her in. Or, she was until she saw me. Following the obligatory greeting, I took a moment to retrieve my mail before following Zakira down the stairs mirroring ours. A place I had yet to go, not that it was anything to look at, being a short corridor with only five doors lining the walls. Zakira¡¯s was the last on the right and filled with darkness like mine had been- although not so dark that a human couldn¡¯t see. It was just a single room, besides the bathroom, furnished with a beanbag chair, a wardrobe, and a desk. Without speaking, she pulled me to the chair to sit and rested her head on my shoulder. And we just¡­ enjoyed each other''s company.


    Now that I had a little time to grow accustomed to her, I realized it wasn¡¯t all that bad. She wasn¡¯t much of a talker, but when she did it usually served to make me laugh. Or annoy me. Either way, it made her the easiest person to spend my time with compared to anyone else here. She didn¡¯t ask millions of questions and she didn¡¯t expect things from me. She accepted me as I was. And, thankfully, she wasn¡¯t as clingy as I thought she was.


    Well, she was still clingy. But not so much as to question my whereabouts or ignore the things she wanted to do.


    ¡°You gonna open that, or what?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sorry. I was thinking about you.¡± I sighed. Then reeled back in laughter at her reaction before ripping the letter open.


    ''Dear Amun,


    Congratulations, you¡¯ve won the vote to be Copper Party¡¯s leader for the first semester. You alone will be in charge of the party''s attendance and in making sure your subordinates make it to class on time. Class exercises will also fall under your leadership, so consider this an opportunity to increase the points of you and your party. Have the class report to the gym at 9:00 for training.


    Arcane Fighter, Doyle Wolfgang. Battle Mage''


    ''P.S. Duccec, Samson, and Slate are your team leaders. You four may agree on changing the party¡¯s name if you wish.''


    ''Battle Mage?¡¯ I wondered before answering Zakira¡¯s increasingly inquisitive gaze. ¡°It seems I¡¯m the class leader.¡±


    ¡°Well, duh!¡± She giggled.


    ¡°Yeah. Duh.¡± I snorted. Then fell into another round of mental gymnastics until an hour had passed.


    Upon returning from my room, I pulled an empty notebook from my trunk and began ripping out pages until I had 15 strewn across the desk. Once I had everyone¡¯s names written down, I went back through each one to add categories to fill out over time. Mostly regarding their abilities, personalities, backgrounds, quirks, habits, and dispositions, but ambitions as well. That included prospective Classes and lifetime goals. Above all, however, I needed to subdivide the teams into individual positions, each with its own roles and duties in both battle and peacetime. So I put that as my first priority and established a simple system before skipping out of my room.


    I was hungry.

 115 - Physical Bonding

    ¡°Amun, congratulations."


    Fighting back a sigh, I halted at the top of the steps to face the songful voice and saw Duke, approaching with his feathered hands wide. ¡°I look forward to our working together,¡± he said.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I nodded. ¡°As do I. I plan on speaking to you, Samson, and Slate formally before class tomorrow. So spread the word.¡±


    ¡°I shall be there.¡± He stepped away with a nod, clearing the way for Zakira and Peter to approach and follow me outside to my spot.


    After settling himself on the bench to my left, Peter turned his intent gaze in my direction and held it there for a few long moments before rattling the air with his shaky voice. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡± He leaned in closer, eyes wide. ¡°The lightning. Back in Maru. Why didn¡¯t you tell me it was you?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like Slate said.¡± I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s inconsequential. I was only testing the depth of my Mana Well that day. I had no way of knowing how you or anyone else would react to it, nor was it on my mind.¡±


    ¡°I guess.¡± Peter sighed. Then his gaze drifted off in an ambiguous direction while he began to contemplate my words. Or something else entirely.


    Reaching between my feet, I pulled a blunt and a copy of the Elemental and Fusion Theories out of my shadow and gave the latter pair to Peter before letting the former hang loosely from my lips. "You should be more confident, Peter.¡± I smiled at him. ¡°Your Well is deep. You only lack experience and training. But there¡¯s no better place than here to accrue such things.¡± I gestured around us before bringing my finger back to point at him. ¡°More so, you have four high-tier affinities. You alone are in complete control of nature in a way that humans can only dream of. These will help you understand them.¡± I tapped the book''s cover. ¡°Share it with no one. Not even the staff.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡± He nodded. Then brought his eyes up to me and nodded again. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    He was certainly a strange one. Though he wasn¡¯t as timid as before, probably due to him warming up to the team, he still was by a fair margin. Beyond that, he seemed¡­ satisfied, ever since the duel yesterday. Though he wasn¡¯t smiling per se, he was cheerful in a way that was hard to ignore. A stark contrast from the skittish boy I met just over a week ago.


    It went without saying that I decided to go through with his recruitment. And with Winston¡¯s as well. Though they each had their issues, those could be overcome through guidance and experience, and the things they could bring to the table were worth their weight in gold. In truth, that applied to all of my classmates. Their youthfulness made their minds as mailable as gold. Patience and subtlety were the keys to overruling their emotional impulsiveness and cognitive biases. Their potential was blatantly obvious, after all. Winston¡¯s defensive capabilities were invaluable on their own but could be adapted for offensive roles over time. And I could train the shit out of Peter to make him a walking calamity.


    With three vampires, a goliath, and a dwarf added to the mix, the prospects were looking good. But I wanted to expand my options even further, so I made a note to myself to begin interacting with others outside of my party and team. It¡¯d require way too much socializing, which was exhausting just to think about. But with my increased notoriety, hopefully, my classmates would start coming to me instead.


    After getting my fix, we migrated to the cafeteria for lunch and, ruefully, found Slate and Els huddled under the dark tree, drinking and shouting compliments and insults at each other in the same breath.


    ¡°Hey, Slate.¡± I threw my head up in a nod before taking a seat. ¡°I need a word with you and the other team leaders before class tomorrow. Let Samson know if you see him.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± He bowed in his seat.


    Els, on the other hand, all but belly-flopped onto his plate of cubed meat candy to lean as close as he could to me. ¡°That duel of yours was something! Didn¡¯t get a chance to tell you over those blabbering mouths. But ¡®twas the craziest thing I¡¯ve ever seen the way you handled that boy!¡±


    ¡®Aw, shit.¡¯ I groaned into the console. ¡®Here we go again.¡¯


    ¡°Do you feel no pain?¡± Slate asked with a beaming grin.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be a lot easier to show you rather than explain it,¡± I said just as my meal arrived. ¡°I wanted to do some training after this anyways.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled.¡± Slate beamed. Then rounded his gaze to Els, sweeping his longing gaze across the table. ¡°I¡¯ll go to talk, sure. But to train?¡± His face curled while his shoulders rose into a shrug. ¡°Eh.¡±


    ¡°I assume you¡¯re going, Zakira? So what say you, Peter?


    ¡°Peter?¡± With Slate''s second call, all of our eyes were drawn to the small, brown-haired boy resting his forehead on the table while he flipped through my book almost obsessively.


    ¡°The fuck''s up with him?¡± Els recoiled in wonder after his slap on the table resulted in nothing more than a short scowl from Peter.


    ¡°He¡¯s reading,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s a book I wrote. But I don¡¯t wanna talk about it here.¡±


    ¡°I know a place,¡± Slate leaned forward to say with a cunning smile. ¡°It requires points to enter, but if we pool ours together as a team, we shall have more than enough.¡±


    After more or less agreeing, we worked through our meals and returned to the courtyard to huddle around one of the many doors fashioned into the roots to pool our points together and agree on a training environment. In this case, a mimicry of the forest surrounding the Bodhi Tree with a remarkably unremarkable interior space; save a tiled deck near the entrance that housed an assortment of the same glowing consoles installed across campus.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I turned to Slate and Els with a sigh. ¡°Peter¡¯s reading my theories for elemental manipulation.¡±


    ¡°As your subordinate, I ask that I have one.¡± Slate formally bowed.


    ¡°Whatever. Here.¡± I sighed. ¡°But you have to swear to share it with no one. Not even the staff.¡±


    ¡°I swear to share it only with those you deem worthy.¡± He excitedly bowed again.


    ¡°What about you?¡± I turned to the dwarf after giving Slate his copy.


    ¡°Well.¡± He looked away with a sigh. ¡°Maybe if I can give that spear of yours a look-see one day, I¡¯ll think about it.¡±


    ¡°Deal.¡± I handed him a copy with a wide grin. Then turned to stand before Slate and face the others. ¡°Alright.¡± I sighed. ¡°Slate. Let me hit you.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


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    With his consent given, I delivered a swift hook and felt my knuckles break against his stone-skin chin. ¡°Weak, right?¡± I laughed in the face of his shocked expression. ¡°That¡¯s my natural strength. Now, shake my hand.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± He reached his hand out, chuckling like a dummy until our hands made contact, wherein he instantly recoiled and stared at me like a child that just touched a hot iron. ¡°My hand." He gasped, staring at the appendage in wonder. "It feels¡­ numb.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to punch you again.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± He put his arm down and faced me, unguarded, as he did before.


    Following his consent, I stepped in to give him an uppercut to the gut with enough force to lift him off the ground- if barely.


    ¡°Wow! Haha!¡± He cackled as he reeled back. ¡°That was- oh.¡±


    ¡°Here.¡± I slapped his shoulder with my left hand. ¡°Have it back.¡±


    ¡°What¡­ was that?¡± Peter asked with gaping eyes.


    ¡°I use necromancy to enhance my strength,¡± I said. ¡°Slate¡¯s numb hand was an effect of my Leech Hand spell. With it, I steal another¡¯s strength and add it to my own, either temporarily or permanently. False Strength and Usurped Strength respectively. But there also exist versions for life. What I used on Winston, however, was gravity, accelerating fist to ludicrous speeds. But, as you can see.¡± I held up the object of their discomfort. My right hand. Shattered, splintered, and coiled into an unnatural mess up to my elbow. ¡°In either case, it exceeds the limits of my body by leaps and bounds.¡±


    ¡°Do¡­ do you not feel that?¡± Els asked, wincing.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s extremely painful.¡± I laughed. ¡°I¡¯ve learned to ignore it, though.¡±


    ¡°Then why don¡¯t you heal?¡± Peter incredulously asked.


    ¡°Because it terrifies people. And, as you saw with Winston, fear is a weapon. That and because it¡¯s more painful than getting injured in the first place.¡± I activated the spell with a mad cackle.


    ¡°Unbelievable.¡± Slate gasped after witnessing my arm crack and mend itself back into shape. ¡°Your tolerance for pain is unfathomable.¡±


    ¡°Terrifyingly so.¡± Peter shuddered.


    ¡°Like I said.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I spent four years being beat to the brink of death by my Great-Grandfather and his undead army.¡±


    ¡°In other words, you¡¯re just like the stories of necromancers.¡± Els huffed in a tone that was neither derisive nor admiring. ¡°Death to others for the sake of power.¡±


    ¡°Well, yes but no.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I do steal life and take souls, but I don¡¯t do so indiscriminately. Only from those who are wicked or seek to do me or mine harm.¡± Unlike fake necromancers. ¡°Anyway.¡± I waved the tangent aside to cast a gravity domain around the lot of them. Then fought back a fit of laughter from watching them struggle in zero-g. ¡°This is my Gravity Magic- what I used to make Winston fall around the arena.¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯m gonna hurl!¡± Els wheezed. Meanwhile, the other three were floating in dreamland.


    Letting them absorb the moment, I took to the air to orbit around them while I went on with my spiel. ¡°I normally describe gravity as the force that keeps us planted to the ground. But it¡¯s much more than that.¡± With their attention captured, I flicked a small gravity bullet at the ground to free the sand, dirt, and other things from the surface before spawning another Artificial Well. Then watched along with the others as grains began cascading into the air. Drifting towards and amassing around the mass of gravitational energy until a small bead was formed. A small target for the cascade of dirt, grass, and stone to rain down like an organic meteor shower until a small earthen planetoid was left floating beside me.


    ¡°Gravity is the creator and destroyer of worlds.¡± I declared with a gesture toward the ruined surface below. ¡°It¡¯s my most-used affinity. followed closely by either Darkness or Space-Time Magic. But you¡¯ll see examples of those as time goes on. So I¡¯ll explain my innate traits before we begin. To put it simply, I have indefinite night vision, heightened agility, and my senses are on par with most animals. I have an inborn resistance to magic. I also can¡¯t be put to sleep or charmed. I¡¯m immune to poisons, heat, and cold, but can still freeze or burn in both fire and acid. Lastly, I can see mana and use it cast spells. In exchange, I have a weak and frail constitution. But that can be countered with my sorcery.¡±


    ¡°Gods.¡± Peter gasped. ¡°That¡¯s a lot.¡±


    ¡°You can see mana?¡± Slate incredulously asked. ¡°What¡¯s it look like?¡±


    ¡°Almost like the world has been submerged in liquid crystals.¡± I shrugged. ¡°But it¡¯s... half-there, half-not. I can see through it like glass tinted blue. It breaks apart when things move and changes color when people use spells.¡±


    ¡°Fascinating.¡± He gasped, scratching his chin. ¡°And what of the final spell? The one you used to dispel the barrier?¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes.¡± I nodded. Then set them all down gently before turning to Peter with a warm smile. ¡°Hit me with your strongest spell.¡±


    ¡°A-are you sure?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± I nodded, still smiling. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Hesitantly, Peter moved a fair ways away and eventually turned to face me with his palm outstretched towards me. And after a final nod on my part, he let loose a cone of blue fire that could¡¯ve easily encompassed the four of us standing side-by-side. But one I easily destroyed with a Void Shield of equal size, disappearing the intense flames the moment they came into contact with the substance.


    ¡°See!¡± I spread my arms and smiled. ¡°Fine.¡±


    ¡°I- I don¡¯t like attacking you, Amun.¡± He said shakily. ¡°You¡¯re my first friend.¡±


    ¡®Aw, damn¡­¡¯ I sighed to myself. ¡°I understand. So how about this?¡± I took a moment to focus on each of their shadows before imbuing my voice with the umbral energy and saying, ¡°Doppelgangers, rise.¡± Amused, I stood back and watched my teammates react to their umbral clones taking form with shock, fear, curiosity, and unbridled sadness. ¡°This is the first shadow spell I learned.¡± I grinned at Peter. ¡°Will you be fine attacking yourself?¡±


    ¡°My Doppelganger.¡± Slate stepped around his clone with a studious eye. ¡°What can it do?¡±


    ¡°Everything you can!¡± Umbral Slate laughed. Much to the original''s surprise.


    ¡°This is from my Sorcery,¡± I explained. ¡°I can manipulate the elements like everyone else. But I was born with three affinities merged into one. Darkness, Death, and the Void- like you just saw.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Zakira stopped moping to jump forward with sudden interest. ¡°I heard of someone like that who came to the Hells, like, a long time ago!¡±


    ¡°Could¡¯ve been my Great-Grandfather.¡± I nodded. ¡°Everandus Cole? The Necro King?¡±


    ¡°Nah.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I mean, I heard of him growing up too. But the one with your void stuff was funnier than that. His name was, like, tuff nut or something.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s definitely funnier.¡± I snickered. ¡®And infinitely more interesting.¡¯


    ¡°Anyway. If we¡¯re done talking, I¡¯d like to train Peter for a bit. You all can train with your clones. And, Zakira?¡± I turned to the vampire, who was once again moping at the edge of the group due her inability to have a clone. ¡°You can train with mine.¡±


    I turned away before I was faced with the brunt of Zakira¡¯s excitement and pulled Peter off to an ambiguous section of the grounds. Smiling in anticipation. ¡°So." I eagerly turned to him. "What weapon do you use?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve been training with the sword.¡± He shrugged.


    ¡°Ugh, of course.¡± I groaned. ¡°Swords don¡¯t really fit your style.¡± Which was true. But also¡­ just- yeah.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I mean, you don¡¯t seem like the type to fight in close combat, which is how you''ll be fighting with a sword.¡± I snorted. ¡°That, and being efficient with a sword in combat takes years of training to accomplish. A luxury you don¡¯t have. You have, at most, four years to become adept at a fighting style and gain experience. Lastly, which coincides with the first, there¡¯s no synergy between swords and your magic.¡±


    ¡°Synergy. I¡¯ve heard that word before.¡± He nodded slowly. ¡°What does it mean?¡±


    ¡°Take my shadows for example.¡± I gestured around. ¡°I can link shadows to step through them and attack someone. Or, I can thrust my spear through a shadow to do some real damage without exposing my body. That''s synergy. On the contrary, swords are tools for one, maybe two to three enemies; whereas your magic is best used against multiple enemies spread over a large area.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ think I understand.¡± He turned back to me after a few moments. ¡°But, what weapon should I pick?¡±


    ¡°I would recommend war fans.¡±


    ¡°Fans?¡± He recoiled.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I reached into my coat to access my Shadow Pocket and tossed him a cheap pair I took from the house. Then took a moment to corral everyone else for a quick lesson.¡°Peter just got these fans.¡± I gestured to the things. Prompting a strangely placed round of applause from Zakira that Slate latched onto with gusto. ¡°I¡¯m going to teach him to use them with his magic, but they¡¯re cheap and will break on their own. I see this as an opportunity to teach what Zeff called ¡®Mana Molding.¡¯


    ¡°Now, I¡¯m sure they have other names for them, but the techniques are the same. I call them Mana Skin, Mana Reinforcement, and Mana Infusion. The latter will be used for this fan.¡± I gestured again to Peter before taking a rotten stick from my clone. ¡°The key lies in manipulating or molding the mana into copying the object you want to infuse. In this case, wood grains.¡± I split the stick in half to show them the grains before I reset it with the Chrono Dial, infused it, then swept it against a stone to crack its surface with deep webs.


    ¡°Fascinating!¡± Slate and his clone growled at the same time.


    ¡°Your Doppelgangers will teach you the other techniques.¡± I sent them off with a wave. Then turned an eager smile to my first student. ¡°Now, let¡¯s get started.¡±

 116 - Repose

    Toril O''Connell.


    ***


    ¡°I wish it would storm.¡±


    ¡°Huh, you say something, Toril?¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± I chuckled through my nose on the inhale of a deep breath and stared deeper into the seemingly endless sky. ¡°No.¡± I turned, then felt something within me smile after seeing Lucia, staring at me with her bulbous eyes. Quickly looking past her, I saw the others in my party. Roheisa, Amethyst, the Amazonians, Zohnos the Triton, and a dwarven girl named Thordrohilda. Among others. ¡°Nothing important, at least.¡± I turned back to the sky, sighing heavily.


    They were good company. Good people. A little too good for my taste, but good all the same. Fairly strong too, but not as strong as the two fiends on my and Lucia¡¯s team. Many of them and more were on the list of being vetted to follow us upon our return to Maru. And in time, they would. But first, I needed a way to stave off my boredom.


    The lessons learned thus far had been remarkable and it¡¯s been nice to have some time off, but I couldn¡¯t help but feel somewhat underwhelmed by the Bodhi Tree. Sure the campus was¡­ magical, and I¡¯ve met species that I never even knew existed, but everything we¡¯ve done so far was no different and no less difficult than what we went through back home. Our outing, while interesting, felt like nothing more than a field trip while we followed Olga, rattling on and on and on about things few had an interest in. Frustratingly so. Like Amun, I wanted to be free. But unlike him, I wanted to explore the realms and fight, rather than explore and learn. And I found it exceedingly difficult to wait.


    But still, I could only imagine what Amun was going through.


    ¡°Hey, Toril?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± I smiled at Lucia without even turning to her.


    ¡°I know we aren¡¯t supposed to discuss it. But... it¡¯s something I¡¯ve been struggling with.¡± She hesitated to let out a strong sigh. A rare occurrence. ¡°Have you thought about your oath?¡±


    ¡°My oath, huh?¡± I muttered. It was something I thought of many times. The Paladin¡¯s Oath. A sacred commitment- a conviction, applied to one¡¯s life for the sake of divine power. In my youthful naivety, I dreamt of taking an oath of redemption to bring honor back to my name in the eyes of my father. Then Amun and I had our first real talk. After that, I dreamt of swearing to protect Amun when he needed me most. And then I learned that such a time would never come after even a thousand lifetimes. I was a knight who was outclassed by his master to such a degree that I would only get in the way if I attempted to assist him without his direction. But still, I was tasked with leading his living army in the near future. And I was gifted with the freedom to choose my own path in life.


    And so, I struggled to decide. Until, eventually- just recently, I came to realize. ¡°The oath is only part of the equation,¡± I muttered. ¡°I realized, the question to ask is, ''what do I want to do with my life?'' My answer was to become something legendary. To raise a family. To serve as the commander of Amun¡¯s living forces in life and death. Once I had that figured out, the oath came naturally.¡±


    ¡°So.¡± She inched closer. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°If you really wanna know, ask Amun what my nickname is.¡± I snorted. To which she began pouting and turned to face Roheisa and the others. Giving me a few more minutes of peace before it was disrupted by the doors swinging open with a bang.


    ¡°Oh! What say you, Toril- about the fantastic duels we were privy to yesterday?¡±


    I didn¡¯t even need to look to know who it was. Zarzok¡¯s deviously charming voice could be distinguished from a city away. I could practically see the crimson skin, swept-back horns, and sulfuric eyes staring tantalizingly at me while he awaited my reply.


    ¡°Why do you care?¡± I groaned.


    ¡°The powerful attracts the powerful, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± He slyly asked. ¡°He¡¯s undoubtedly one of the strongest in the class, much like you.¡±


    ¡°Quite humble of you.¡± Zohnos chided


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t get me wrong.¡± Zarzok chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m undoubtedly on that list as well. I, however, am only interested in the opinion of a rare equal.¡±


    While Zohnos threw a fit, I peered out the corner of my eye to see the other Strifling standing behind him, staring off to the side with unbridled disinterest. Phelaia was her name. A female of her species with violet skin, silvery eyes, and ribbed horns swept back across the top of her head. Unlike Zarzok, she was a lot less talkative, non-confrontational, and thus an unknown in terms of power or personality.


    ¡°Out of curiosity, who else applies to that list?¡±


    ¡°Undoubtedly you and your knight, Princess Deapou.¡± Zarzok smiled at her, much to Roheisa''s chagrin. ¡°As well as Phelaia here, under the right circumstances. And of course, dear Toril. Ash, obviously. Perhaps Bazzric too. Your companion, Corundum, is another.¡± He snapped his finger at Amethyst. ¡°And, of course, the big three sorcerers, Amun, Lance Morningstar, and Zeke Silva.¡±


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    ¡°Neither Lance nor Zeke have done anything yet.¡± Zohnos retorted.


    ¡°Such words are merely an indication that you are not one of us.¡± He smirked at Zohnos, much to the Triton¡¯s dismay. ¡°The strong recognize the strong.¡±


    Speaking of, I wondered why Zarzok forfeited the team leader position to me and the party leader position to either Zohnos or Roheisa, yet manipulated his way into making Edgar duel him. Even after Roheisa won, it was as if he didn¡¯t even care. Either about the position or Edgar. Even stranger, it seemed like he was satisfied with the outcome.


    ¡°So, what say you, Toril, about these duels?¡±


    ***


    Jaimess A. Corey.


    ***


    ¡°I assure you, Jaimess, he is a very wise and powerful man. Allow me to introduce you to him.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve met him as well.¡± Elijah palmed his chest. ¡°Lady Opal and I.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll introduce myself to him if I see him.¡± I sighed. ¡°But I don¡¯t see any reason to go out of my way to do it.¡± Nor did I see any reason to tell them I was essentially raised by. That I was his vassal. His left-wing. For whatever reason, I let them continue operating under the assumption that I didn¡¯t know him. It wasn¡¯t as if Amun told us to act like strangers towards him, only to make our own contacts- our own friends, while we were here. And that¡¯s exactly what I aimed to do. And so. ¡°I¡¯d rather focus on getting to know my party and teammates,¡± I said.


    ¡°While that is wise, it is also wise to remember we are in competition with the other teams in our party. Knowing the opposition is preferable to ignorance.¡±


    ¡°Not everything is a competition, Corundum.¡± I groaned.


    To which she abruptly and contemptuously spat. ¡°You are wrong!¡±


    Rather than arguing, I simply rolled my eyes and walked off to nowhere in particular. The act took me past many of the other fantastical species found in our party. Rhot and Snusz Silentjaw- the Lizalfok and Kobold were chatting in the corner. Ed and his squad were outside; evidently arguing, as well as Elijah¡¯s squad lounging about near the kitchen. More or less, they were people I already made contact with, and none of the ones at the height of my list. So I left the courtyard and entered the halls to be hit by a potent wave of blissful peace that I could soak in for hours. While the common room wasn¡¯t particularly loud, it may as well have been when entering the root-like corridors. It was a couple of hours before noon so everyone was either lounging, studying, or socializing; which made for a nice and quiet environment for me to lose myself in.


    With my hands thrown over my head, I aimlessly wandered around campus, nodding at the occasional passerby while I pondered everything from Classes to my future. Eventually, I made my way around the outskirts of the campus and made my way back toward the hub by noon. Knowing the first wave of students would be headed to lunch, I decided to turn just before the auditorium to take a roundabout path back to the dorms.


    With a level head and an eagerness to resume the task at hand, I put some pep in my step and racked my brain for any individuals with the potential to become an ally or friend. The problem was, Amun had given us no real guidance or idea as to what we should look for during our time here. To me, that translated to him wanting us to choose individuals we wanted as subordinates. Or friends. Not that such a translation made it any easier, though, for I was teamed with a pampered Epethian knight, a proud Triton, Corundum, and Bazzric, the angry dwarf. A melting pot of pride and arrogance that I was sure not even Amun could¡¯ve tamed. And the other teams weren¡¯t any better. There were more Epethians. More abrasive dwarves. More overly passionate warriors. A hot-headed half-high orc. Some brooding reptilians. And, the strangest pair of all- Lance, and the giant beast of a man who never talked but always smiled, Zeke Silva. A blend of temperaments that were incompatible with my own, to say the least.


    It went without saying, but I was not like Toril and the others. In ways, however, it could be said that we were all similar to Amun. Ed had long since grown out of his meekness, but he still cared for tools and trinkets far more than he did people and he shared an obsession for artificing and science with Amun that none of us did. Giorno shared Amun¡¯s wanderlust and passion for discovering the arts and cultures of far-off civilizations; only, Amun was interested in the cultures that¡¯d been lost to time rather than the ones that existed in modernity. He shared Toril¡¯s love of fighting but rarely found a worthy opponent beyond his Doppelganger. He cared for people, like Jonet, but he cared even more for animals and the dead. He shared my introversion, intellect, and obsessive industrialism while simultaneously being a lazy, charismatic leader. And as much as he didn¡¯t want to admit it, Amun shared Letta¡¯s greed. Yet, his avarice was focused on the abstract instead of the material. We- at least I realized this. But what was not so evident was the fact that we were all capable and compatible with him because he made it so.


    And so, I found it exceedingly hard to make friends with anyone outside of our circle; much less have them abide by our standards. Not even the one who aligned the most with my temperament.


    ¡°Oh, hey! Diamond Jaimess!¡±


    I saw him long before I heard the horrid moniker followed by an equally horrendous and awkward chuckle. He was truly Amun''s antithesis, the Golden Boy. But with all things, there were similarities. He was lanky, like Amun, but stood just below two meters in height. With golden hair and solar-yellow eyes, he was the object of every girl¡¯s eye. Quite hilariously, though, he was comically awkward. He wasn¡¯t clumsy, however. Just¡­incompetent with his words. In a way, it seemed like he was out of place no matter where he found himself standing. A stark contrast from the other sorcerers in our class.


    While I wanted to know more about him, I wasn¡¯t going to go out of my way to bother him. Surprisingly though, here he was. Approaching me on his own accord. ¡°Lance.¡± I nodded to him and he nodded back in the awkwardly carefree way of his.


    ¡°What do you intend to become?¡±


    ¡®The fuck?¡¯ I calmly raised my brow. ¡°As far as... Classes? Can you be more specific?¡±


    ¡°Well, that.¡± He chuckled and looked away, shrugging with his hands. ¡°And after. You graduate, I mean.¡±


    ¡°Well, in terms of Occupational Classes? I¡¯m not really sure.¡± I shrugged, then began tapping my chin as if I were thinking deeply about the topic. ¡°I have an interest in alchemy, for sure. But, beyond that? Maybe I¡¯ll be a Ranger? A Beast Tamer sounds interesting. Or, maybe I¡¯ll join a guild or do some exploring on my own. I don¡¯t really know.¡± I shrugged again. ¡°Anything that will let me explore and cultivate knowledge.¡±


    ¡°Explore and cultivate knowledge.¡± He looked away, scratching his chin as he slowly repeated the words before turning back to me with a warm smile. ¡°That¡¯s good. Yeah- no, that¡¯s- yeah. That¡¯s good. Okay. Uh. One more.¡± He glanced at the door and let out another awkward chuckle. Then turned back to me with an abrupt seriousness that was... off-putting, to say the least. ¡°Do you know Amun?¡±


    ¡°I know of him.¡± I blankly nodded and waited for him to speak again. No matter how long it took.


    ¡°Would you mind introducing me to him?¡±

 117 - Guidance

    Edward Pascal.


    ***


    ¡°See you.¡± I heard Lance¡¯s voice just as I left the common room and stepped out to see him stepping away from Jaimess- standing beside the stairs, watching him go with scrutinizing eyes.


    Eventually, he made his way towards the barracks- towards me, and veered in my direction to come and whisper in my ear before I could even speak. ¡°I¡¯ll explain later.¡±


    The door was closed before I could even turn, so I continued to lunch with a shrug and stepped into pace alongside my team. Forgruna and Elurial, both from Nonus, were a bit brash compared to the others, Ritrix and Mary. But in all, they were good company. Especially Mary. She was a bundle of joy and passion that I¡¯ve grown quite fond of over the last week. She had Cotton Magic and Acid Magic. Contradictory affinities that I found fascinating. Though, the only thing I disliked about her was her perpetual reminiscing of Epethia. Like Amun, I hated what I saw there. But Mary was in the middle class. Far from the struggling farms and slave-filled streets alike. She neither saw the best nor the worst of what her Empire had to offer. She lived complacently, much like I had before I started serving Amun.


    As I saw him do years ago, I¡¯ve been trying to subtly change her ways of thinking. But to little avail. Due in no small part to my tendency to attack everything like a mechanical problem: find the cause, attempt to fix the cause, and add in a few other variables if it doesn¡¯t work. Lather and repeat until it does. It was so simple a troglodyte could do it. People; though, were much more difficult. So dishonest with themselves, headstrong with their emotions, and fickle with their intentions. Even now, I can hardly understand how Amun did it.


    Still, though, they were tame in comparison to the other species. Having a halfling, a dwarf, and a half-high orc in my team was undoubtedly a wake-up call. I¡¯ve seen few of the former two and none of the latter growing up in Odissi. But that was only the start. Tritons, Goliaths, Lizalfok, Kobolds, Vampires, Amazonians, and whatever Zeke was. It made for an eclectic blend of personalities and cultures that seemed to mystify the entire party shortly after we arrived at this big tree. But I was far more interested in the technologies found in their homes. An interest that made me lose myself in thought more times than I could count.


    Case in point, I came to after feeling the frame of a chair bump against my leg. Looking around, I saw Ritrix still blabbering on to Forgruna and Elurial as they sat across from Snusz and the two Lizalfok, Rhot, and Butuss. I nodded to all of them and began ordering my food. Then I heard a sharp tap at the table followed by the continuation of their conversation in another language. Draconic, I assumed from Snusz darting his eyes between the two while they pierced the air with clicks and hisses.


    They were one thing. But after reading the laughably blunt material the school gave us regarding the other species, I was surprised to see a Kobold, or rather Snusz Silentjaw, in attendance. They were reported to be weak creatures that relied on traps and the shade of a dragon¡¯s wing to survive. Snusz, however, was a rarity. A kobold the Plane had rarely- if ever seen before, due simply to his age. Given that small teaser and his self-reference as a ¡®Great Wrym,¡¯ I had to inquire.


    Turns out, Snusz was 232 years old- over a century past the life expectancy of his kind. It was made possible through a type of magic he had yet to understand. Answers to how and why he was granted this power were what led him to the Bodhi Tree. But I knew he would find no such answers here. He¡¯d only learn how to use them and give the academy more knowledge to lock behind their walls. Though, in turn, he would evolve.


    As for Rhot and Butuss, all I could find out was that their entire thought process was closer to that of a beast than anything else. But that didn¡¯t stop me from trying to get to know them. I wanted to learn where they were from. And through that, what type of tools, equipment, and magic they used as a species. That goal extended to every species present in our class as well as the humans native to the other realms. But they proved the most difficult. Many of my approaches were met with snarls and hisses that lasted until I left. Though, that wasn''t because they didn¡¯t respect me. They had no concept of such things in the first place. In their eyes, the realms were filled with predators and prey. Nothing more. Nothing less. Every creature they looked at was considered food or not food, including themselves. In nature, that left them in equilibrium. But here, they were frustrated. They knew that this place had an abundance of prey but was scarce of food. They, like any other living creature, simply wished to survive. But they were the few ''wild'' creatures who could push past their primal instincts for the sake of something grander.


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    A trait I found fascinating.


    Still, there seemed to be a sort of bias in their actions in who they automatically assumed was ¡®prey.¡¯ And it didn¡¯t take long to realize who was a part of that list- a distinction I chose to run with for now. I knew it would¡¯ve inhibited me from gaining more information from them. But it was always better to be underestimated and ignored than to be in the spotlight.


    A sacrifice Amun willingly made just a day ago.


    ***


    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, Zeff.¡± I chuckled. ¡°Winston isn¡¯t weak. And neither is anyone else in Copper Party. Amun is just that strong.¡±


    ¡°Ah, but a few powerhouses don¡¯t make the team, Doyle!¡± He wagged his little finger in my face. ¡°Baker Party has the most well-rounded teams by far. All of the teams have members with fascinating abilities that have yet to see the limelight. Yet, Olga¡¯s party has the appropriate blend of both. Need I say more?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Yeah. Don¡¯t underestimate the underdog.¡± I muttered into my special mug. Zeff Yurich was a dwarven halfling on par with myself. Though his skills were admirable, his fascination with how magic worked led him astray from the battlefield. Not that such a decision wound up being a bad thing. ¡°Anyway.¡± I slammed my drink on the table to refill its contents and strike up some more conversation with one of my oldest living friends. ¡°I¡¯m excited to see their progress in the coming we-¡±


    ¡°Doyle!¡±


    The bellowing clap of thunder silenced the entirety of the lounge- the both of us, amplifying the groan emitted from my lungs as I turned to look and see a tank of a man striding forth in plated, gold-lined armor that¡¯d been polished enough to outshine the sun itself.


    ¡°What¡¯s someone like you doing far down in the roots?¡± I amiably asked while internally rolling my eyes.


    Titus only grinned wider before turning towards the kitchenette. ¡°I hear the fresh crop is quite promising,¡± He eventually boomed.


    ¡°Oh?¡± I snorted out a laugh. ¡°Is that ambition I hear from the proud Storm King?¡±


    ¡°Only curiosity, old friend.¡± He grunted out a laugh.


    ¡®Old friend.¡¯ I spat.


    ¡°Well, if you¡¯re curious, we have more than a few strong ones this year.¡± Zeff chimed in, simultaneously saving me and putting himself under threat without him even knowing it.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Titus nodded, turning to him with any traces of humor or benevolence gone from his face. ¡°But how many of them are willing to walk in the light?¡±


    ¡°Depends on the incentives.¡± I calmly replied, calling Titus¡¯ attention back to myself. ¡°The same is true for your prodigy.¡±


    ¡°The incentives are not mine to make.¡± Titus huffed. ¡°Nor is it my duty to recruit. Here, I am only an educator.¡±


    ¡°How unfortunate for them then.¡± I sarcastically sighed.


    ¡°Unfortunate indeed,¡± Titus grunted as he reached into a cooler and pulled out a piece of meat wrapped in bloodied cloth. ¡°Most cannot sustain themselves in the long-term without the backing from a nation''s military or a good enough guild. For some, it takes months to realize. Others, decades. But no matter how long it takes.¡± He turned back to look at us with his package held under his arm. ¡°No matter the case, they all see the light in due time.¡±


    ¡°And may it shine forever bright,¡± I said, raising my mug in mocked praise.


    If Titus was offended or even felt any type of way from my snarky cheer he showed no sign of it. Not even as he approached with an amiable smile on his face. ¡°I look forward to the mid-year festivities.¡± He smiled through the thick of his beard and patted me on the shoulder with his free hand. ¡°Our end has gotten ahold of interesting ones for this year. So work them hard. As I love seeing your work; be it teaching. Or fighting.¡±


    ¡°Love.¡± Came the headmaster¡¯s semi-brutish voice, bringing everyone¡¯s eyes to his hulking figure, entering with spread arms and a wide smile aimed at the lot of us. ¡°Love of one''s nation and their service to it. Love of knowledge. Love of fighting. The only thing unloved at this academy is the act of guiding the newly awakened down a path they chose not, Grandmaster Zlock. Or did you forget our mission to let these young minds find their own paths through life?¡±


    ¡°I would never presume to mold the minds of the young, Sir.¡± Titus bowed.


    ¡°Then tell that to your superiors.¡± The headmaster grunted contemptuously.


    ¡°Yes Sir.¡± Titus nodded again, then after a short and meaningful look to me in particular, excused himself and left from where he came.


    The headmaster remained to stare at Titus¡¯ trail with a strange look on his face long after he left the room, then he turned to us and called Olga forth from the corner. ¡°Now that the grace period is over, I want you to force the students to give it their all. Bring each of them to their limits during their daily exercises. Care not about breaking them, for they can be healed. Pay close attention to the weakest students in each party, but allow the party and team members to grow accordingly. Things may get... interesting, this year. Make sure they- and yourselves, are prepared.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sir!¡±

 118 - Molding Mana

    Amun.


    ***


    A day of training, a night of sleep, and a morning full of studying Classes made for quite a productive day off. But the start of the second week of study brought with it an eagerness to extend the formality with the rest of the party. So after fashioning myself a quick breakfast in my room, I emerged to find Zakira and Twig lounging out into the common area as always and joined the former on a beanbag until the other students came straggling up one by one.


    It didn''t take long after that to see Duke walk approach with an eager Slate and a groggy Samson. And after leading them outside, I allowed a few moments of silence to give the boy a quick study. He was unremarkable by appearance. With sun-tanned skin, high cheekbones, and a squat, square chin, he held a striking resemblance to the Roman Emperor, Galba. But looked a lot less competent in terms of intellectual prowess.


    "Congratulations to the three of you on becoming team leaders." I abruptly started, triggering equally abrupt thanks from the two non-humans and a more hesitant response from Samson. "My only goals at this academy are to excel at everything I do and graduate at the top of the class." I continued without delay. "As the party leader, that mindset is now applied to our overall performance. As team leaders, I ask that you pay close attention to the needs, strengths, and weaknesses of your teammates and report them back to me in one week so that they can be mitigated with the proper formations and strategies."


    "Understood," Duke replied.


    "Very well." Followed Slate and a late nod from Samson.


    "Good." I nodded. "We''ll meet ten minutes before class for attendance. Have your squads vote where they wish the meeting site to be going forward, but my recommendation is the classroom. Any questions, comments, or concerns?."


    Duke and Slate shook their heads while Samson stomped toward me.


    "I don''t understand all this cohesion shit." He spat. Not angrily, more from confusion or frustration than anything else. Still, it was enough to cause the other two to share an expectant look with each other.


    "Everyone''s hung up on the assumption that we''re graded on an individual basis, which isn''t entirely true." I sighed. "Even the strongest mystics work with teams. And those that don''t still have a reliance on others for healing, supplies, and all other forms of support. That''s why they placed us into teams in the first place. To get us used to working with strangers and to gauge and guide our leadership abilities. Taking that into account, it''s safe to assume that we leaders will be graded based on the performance of our subordinates."


    He stepped back with contemplation written all over his face. It was clear he wasn''t a bright one. But even that could be changed given enough time.


    "In other words, if we work better as teams, we get more points as individuals." I sighed. "And I don''t know about you all, but I''m after as many points as I can get." A light finally seemed to shine in his dull expression, giving me the cue to steer back to the main reason behind this conversation. "Now then, I came up with five positions for your team members to assume in combat: Knight, Rooks, Bishops, Queens, and Kings," I explained. "Keep in mind that these names are placeholders, but the Knights are essentially the infantry. They''ll work in tandem with the Rooks, who''ll play a defensive role and will jump into action whenever someone''s overwhelmed or injured. The Bishops are reconnaissance and maneuvering units. The King will remain at the center or rear and should be someone skilled in healing magic or someone with a specialized skill set. Lastly, the Queen should be someone capable of flight." I declared. "They''ll work ambushes and air support. That means the position is reserved for me, Urshure, and you, Duke."


    "Naturally." He bowed.


    "If there are no questions, spread the word. I''ll see you at seven-fifty." As I somewhat expected, Duke and Samson parted ways while Slate approached me with a beaming grin. "You''re the Rook," I said before he could ask. "Els is the Knight, Zakira''s the Bishop, and Peter is King." With nothing more than a nod, he compartmentalized the knowledge and followed the other two inside. Leaving me with just enough time to smoke before rallying the party to migrate to Doyle''s classroom.


    After listening to the three of them muttering along with their subordinates about the positions and what roles they''d best be suited to, we arrived before Doyle''s room and funneled inside to continue the talks and debates until the man himself entered the room, quelling the noise in an instant.


    "Cook Party, all present," I told him after approaching.


    "Thank you." He nodded, then gestured for me to stand beside him. "This week will begin this quarter''s focus. We have three objectives." He held up his fingers. "First, to train your bodies- both physical and spiritual. Second, to get you proficient in Mana Molding. And third, to train your martial abilities in favor of your future Classes. As such, each day will begin with a run of the same obstacle course you ran last week. Mana Molding practice will follow until lunch. And you''ll come back to a few hours of combat training before the day ends.


    "If there are no questions." He turned to me. "Have them get to it and back here in ninety minutes."


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    All too easy, that was. Ordering the students and running the course alike. The former didn''t even require words while the latter was hardly any different from my first run. The only variations were denser boulders to destroy coupled with more distant and more dangerous obstacles. With that done, I let the students lounge around and relax until it was time for our short demonstration. A demo I found no particular interest in besides taking note of the variations in nomenclature. What I called mana manipulation, they called Mana Molding. Their mana skin was the Mana Veil, used for magical protection. Infusing mana into the body was Mana Bolstering. And reinforcing an object was mana projection. The same principles, only different- and sometimes misleading names.


    The only takeaway was that the technique was used practically across the breadth of the Polaris Empire. But nothing more noteworthy was said before he ordered me to move everyone to the practice field to train until he said otherwise, so I spent that time giving pointers to the students like I''d done for my team the day before.


    Slate was as enthusiastic as ever in practicing the art while Zakira went through the motions at a leisurely, on-off pace. Els and Peter however grew into a routine of splitting their time between manipulating raw mana and practicing what they began calling the ''elemental tomes.'' Or rather the basics in elemental fusion. While the dwarf couldn''t manipulate all the elements, he still succeeded in making leaps and bounds in bending the earth to his will. Peter, on the other hand, I had to constantly remind him not to use his magic. Them aside, the other teams were showing more promise than expected. The non-humans seemed to have a natural inclination toward using the technique, using what appeared to be instinct to pull off what took the Nonusians took years to master. Curiously, that somewhat applied to Winston as well. Looking at him, it was clear he''d never tried the techniques before, but he showed a level of mana control that was a degree above everyone else''s.


    Eventually, Doyle corralled us to him to cheekily declare that the price to head to lunch was to empty our Wells, so I threw out a full-powered Lightning Dragon and went through the normal routine until it was time to return. By then, we were instructed to drill with our weapons until we were told otherwise. So I drilled against the wooden dummies with a three-section staff and sparred against my doppelganger while it was reforming until Doyle gathered us around him again.


    "Alright. The name of the game is Magical Endurance. You''re to empty your well no less than four times. If you need potions, they''ll be provided. Any questions?" He chuckled to himself while a few uneasy gazes were exchanged between the class. And among them was mine.


    Emptying the well wasn''t a pleasant experience at all. But I''d rather be suffering from and getting used to the after-effects here in a controlled environment rather than on the battlefield. So, as before, I used the Lightning Dragon to empty my Well, sending a wave of crackling energy blanketing across the sky at intervals of a few minutes and focused on the others when I wasn''t. Winston resorted to ejecting a stream of micro-scales while Peter conjured a billowing cloud of blue fire. From the other humans, I saw silk, snow, water, and what I assumed to be plasma before my eyes were drawn to Urshure, throwing flames from his maw the seemed quite suspiciously placed when considering the great gusts procured by Duke just overhead. Slate, Kao, and Curious Twig, however, were condensing and ''blasting'' raw mana from their palms; though, from where I stood it only looked like their spirits were barfing.


    Regardless of the method, though, we all took to the task in our own ways. And as time passed, more and more students began to drop out one by one until there were only a few of us standing tall. Namely, Urshure, Slate, Rebecca, Scarlett, Winston, me, and Peter.


    "You seven have the deepest Wells or the widest Pores in the party. So give us a treat and use the last minutes of class to show us your strongest spell." Doyle declared, in turn making a few of us pause in contemplation.


    Urshure, however, spoke first. "I will need time to prepare."


    "And I cannot use magic." Slate amiably declared. "But I will try my best."


    I, however, was lost in my own world. ''My strongest spell?''


    The Lightning Dragon was more of a test than anything else. At least at first. Now, were it ever used, I labeled it as a long-lasting, wide-ranging spell of mass destruction. And though it used all my mana, it certainly wasn''t my strongest spell. In truth, I had no idea what my strongest spell even was. But I knew it wasn''t beneficial to life in the slightest. So I had to come up with something new right here and now.


    While I racked my brain, Scarlett calmly strode forward, amassing her off-white magic in her palms before she slammed them on the ground. From her fingers spread mycelium-like threads across the ground to form the unmistakable visage of a caterpillar before her arms skyward, ejecting and condensing her trap spell into the likeness of a colossal caterpillar made of raveled silk. Meanwhile, Rebecca subverted all expectations by condensing her plasma magic into armor and weapons.


    When they were done, Slate did something I wasn''t aware the other species were capable of and pulled the mana from his Well to be molded. Then, he did as I did when experimenting long ago and created a ball of energy over his head that was large enough to remind me of a certain spirit-powered bomb from old Earthen media. Only, it was far smaller and held only the relatively little amount of mana remaining in his well. And so, after concentrating for a fraction of the time, he launched it at a nearby tree to obliterate it into countless splinters.


    Urshure went next, turning his maw skyward to let out an ear-shattering roar before projectile vomiting a cone of white fire that was half as wide as the courtyard and half as high as the trees. Not to mention, it was held for a good fifteen seconds before his head lowered and the flames ceased with a nefarious growl.


    And then, all eyes turned to me. So I decided to just wing it with the easiest, most devastating thing and pulled some scrap metal- a broken blade- from my shadow to hold between my thumb and forefinger. Then, I began pulling EM mana from my well and started circulating it in a loop around my arm. Round and round and round the circuit went, absorbing more energy with each pass until violet sparks started streaking out of my arm to crash into random trees, stones, or, in some cases, near the onlooking students.


    With almost the entirety of my Well emptied into the loop, I aimed to an ambiguous point in the sky, gathered what little arcana I had, and funneled it in my throat to command. "Rail Gun, fire!"


    At my command, the circuit closed, allowing an absurdly powerful magnetic field to take shape and pry the blade from my fingers in less than a fraction of an instant, sending it streaking through the sky like a shooting star made of molten steel.


    At least until it evaporated.

 119 - Blood Donor

    After being awarded 25 points for the display, I left the class with Zakira and told her of my plans to spend most of my free time training before we parted ways. She to the cafeteria for some blood and me to the courtyard for my fix. Once done, I made a pit stop at my room to freshen up and wound up being distracted by a new change within the space- a doorway.


    It sat off to the side of my kitchen, giving way to a pentagonal office splayed in warm light. Inside was a well-sized desk, overlooked by a three-sectioned corkboard on the wall behind it. Wasting no time, I gathered my character sheets and took the time to properly arrange them and fill out what little data I had before I brainstormed on how to get more. My initial thought was to simply observe and take notes until graduation, but the prospects of a group activity of some sort coupled with the position I now found myself in made such an option unfeasible. In part, that was why I delegated the task to the team leaders. But even then, I couldn¡¯t blindly rely on them to meet my standards. Which equated to me having to dedicate time to talk to each member of the party. Either individually, or in their cliques.


    It was an annoyance either way. But complaining or brooding about it wouldn¡¯t have gotten me what I needed, so I strode from the dorms and made my way to the cafeteria to intrude upon the first group I saw.


    ¡°May I sit?¡±


    Samson stopped mid-conversation and turned away from a pair of girls with his lips curled before straightening out once more. ¡°Amun!¡± He patted the seat next to him, chuckling nervously. ¡°Of course!¡±


    ¡°I hear you like to win.¡± A raspy voice giggled from his side.


    Looking over I saw an auburn-haired girl resting her head on her shoulder while she stared at me lazily, her cobalt-blue eyes darting between mine as she awaited my reply. From memory, I remembered she was on the taller side, with a slim build that¡¯d been packed on with a fair bit of muscle, like that of a softball player. ¡°It¡¯s not about winning.¡± I shook my head, smiling. ¡°It¡¯s about learning as much as I can while I¡¯m here and being afforded the best opportunities after graduating.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the same thing?¡± The other one, a shorter, more petite girl wondered aloud before extending her hand to me with a smile spread across her face. ¡°I¡¯m Scarlett Bombyx!¡± She had somewhat of a gaunt face, cradled with brunette bangs accented with flowers and white streaks of hair that cradled her purple-specked, off-white eyes like a frame. ¡°Nice to meet you, Class Leader.¡± She wiggled her fingers expectantly.


    I hesitated before shaking, if only for a second and only because it was one of the few instances I¡¯d seen such a gesture used in this universe. ¡°Amun.¡± I smiled, retracting my hand and moving it towards the console with a deep breath to prepare myself for the arduous small talk ahead of me.


    ¡°I¡¯m Rebecca, by the way.¡± The auburn-haired one palmed her chest with her free hand. ¡°Rebecca Plassein.¡±


    ¡°Uh. I¡¯m Samson Framer. Leader of team three!¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I sighed. ¡°So, you three are from Nonus?¡±


    ---


    Our talk wound up lasting over an hour; and it wound up being far more lucrative than I anticipated.


    As I assumed, Samson was a country bumpkin from the outlands of Sirius- the kingdom that resides on the planetary island near Betrarth and the Steam Line. Naturally, he grew up hunting and farming, giving him a robust build and an above-average constitution, even at the tender age of 16. As far as affinities, he was born with Rain Magic and was given Aluminum Magic at the ceremony. And as things went, he claimed to be competent with the former but didn¡¯t know much about aluminum besides the fact it was a type of metal. He planned to use the attributes in the most basic way possible. Join a guild or military and seek glory on the battlefield. Things that I could give him in excess, in addition to much, much more.


    Scarlett and Rebecca were from Sirius proper- a capital city-state wherein they were raised as privileged nobles. Not that my upbringing was any different. Nor was it surprising, considering the way they carried themselves. Rebecca¡¯s family was renowned in those lands for their Plasma Magic, and she was given Black Powder Magic as well. Due to the way she spoke of her upbringing, however, it was clear that she felt some particular way about not just her family but authority as well. Whether that was in a general sense or of a particular type was up for debate. But it was a noteworthy observation all the same.


    Scarlett, on the other hand, was born into a family of Druids and Witches, which was exactly what she aspired to be. Their kingdom was on the outskirts of Sirius proper. In the wilds, among the arthropods and worms. It was there that she went through her core awakening, giving her Poison Magic in addition to her family''s Silk Magic. Based on what she told me, her family was on good terms with the Houses of Light due to the House of Bombyx''s monopoly of magical silks. As such, Scarlett had a small repertoire of developed spells but neither she nor Rebecca had any fighting experience. Samson had some from hunting, but he¡¯d never used his magic for anything other than that and agriculture.


    That was essentially all I could glean before the conversation shifted in my direction, prompting me to give a vague summary of my somewhat sheltered but free upbringing in Deapou before we finished our meals and departed to get some sleep.


    At about three in the morning, I awoke and updated the board with what I¡¯d just learned. Then parsed through my memories of Kao and Urshure to fill out the rest of team three. With my squad already filled out, there were only five students left to interview. Four, if I didn¡¯t include Duke. But he was one of my biggest priorities.


    Right behind Winston.


    I decided to put that on the agenda for the day and emerged from my room to see¡­ nothing. Well, Twig was there. But Zakira was missing entirely. I made my way to the courtyard for my nightly fix and failed to see her there as well. And neither was she in the cafeteria. Deciding against looking for her, I meandered to the gym and, as I expected, it was virtually empty. Only a couple of nocturnals were found in the stands, either reading or staring absent-mindedly at an ambiguous point in the room.


    Surprisingly, however, there were three down on the gym floor in almost constant motion. And as I grew closer, I saw a triage of familiar faces that I never expected to see. Elijah, standing off the side. Watching Zakira and Opal sparring in the center. Though, it hardly could¡¯ve been called that to anyone but me. They were going at each other full force. Even without armor, I¡¯m sure their impacts would¡¯ve banged against the environment like the symphonic percussion I was hearing. They relentlessly attacked, countered, and threw combos at each other without pause, flinging blood and teeth every which way that was replaced or healed within seconds.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    It took me a few seconds to realize I was standing at the last few steps leading to the floor, watching slack-jawed at the spectacle unfold. And after catching myself my thoughts immediately revolved around a single question.


    ¡®How much strength could I steal from them?¡¯


    The Guild Association¡¯s assessment and the stories of the Hells made it clear to me that anti-magic was all too common across the realms. In its presence, I maintained the strength and life I¡¯d Usurped, but the amount stolen so far was negligible. The strength of two men and a half-elven boy was still weaker than any non-human in our year. And many of the proclaimed humans as well.


    If I were to go to the Hells one day and survive, I needed to Usurp a lot more strength. And it just so happened that demons and vampires had tons to spare. The only problem was, vampires were undead. Zakira¡¯s behavior in the face of my sorcery implied that gaining strength wouldn¡¯t be as easy as I first thought.


    And so, it was time for an experiment.


    Luckily, it didn¡¯t take long for the pair to take notice of my presence and bring their duel to a halt to calmly approach me, causing a small pang of jealousy to arise from within me. Even though Zakira had said it, I couldn¡¯t help but be surprised at the fact that they could move about as if they¡¯d just stood up off the couch. That said, I didn¡¯t exactly want to become undead like Grandpa Lich.


    I aimed for something better.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to interrupt.¡± I smiled.


    ¡°No worries.¡± Opal waved my comment aside and finished with a gesture toward Zakira. ¡°It was Zed¡¯s idea.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I turned to Zakira, who has awkwardly turned away from us. ¡°And what¡¯d she say?¡±


    ¡°Things we already knew.¡± Opal giggled in kind. ¡°That you¡¯re ambitious and she wants to watch you see them through. So she told us about your¡­ method to grow stronger. We¡¯d love to help.¡± She stepped forward, then suddenly turned her gaze away. ¡°Well, Elijah would.¡±


    ¡°I insist!¡± The rather large man stepped in toward me.


    ¡°Well, we have to see if it works first. So.¡± I held out my hand and looked at him expectantly.


    He seemed confused for a bit but eventually took my hand in his. ¡®Here goes nothing.¡¯ I sighed. Then covered my skin in death mana to activate my spell. In response, I got an intense gasp of shock from the two onlookers while Elijah dropped to his knees.


    ¡°Wow!¡± He jumped back up with bulging eyes. ¡°That feels amazing!¡±


    ¡°Goddammit!¡± I threw his arm and stepped away. Only to feel a cold pair of arms wrap around me in the next moment, halting me in place.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry it didn¡¯t work.¡± She hugged me tighter- almost too tight.


    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault, you don¡¯t need to apologize.¡± I groaned. ¡°It¡¯s the thought that counts. So, thank you. And besides.¡± I pulled her away to look at the other two with a smile. ¡°I don¡¯t like stealing from my friends. Not to mention, it¡¯s not all bad.¡± I grinned at Elijah in particular. ¡°We can still spar, after all.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know...¡± Elijah shrugged trepidatiously.


    "I¡¯m not as fragile as you think. And you¡¯ll be lucky to even touch me. So how¡¯s a game of tag sound?¡± I lunged forth to give his shoulder a playful shove before bouncing back on the balls of my feet. "You, are it.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± He half-assedly jogged up to reach toward me.


    Not even trying, I stepped in, evading his arm to slip next to his ear and whisper as I shifted behind him. ¡°You gotta be quicker than that!¡±


    With that, Elijah let out a soft chuckle and spun around on his heels before diving forward. Following his motions, I sprinted forth and slid to pass beneath him with a devious smirk. And so on and so on, again and again, I dodged his advances at the last possible moment. Causing the lesser vampire to grow increasingly frustrated and increase his speed further and further until I was forced to bolster my speed with mana. Eventually, he was made to use all of his vampiric speed. So I decided to take things seriously as well and infused my body with electricity. And then his frustrated scowl grew into an excited grin. But still, he was a step too slow. He tried and tried and tried some more, bouncing off the walls and ceilings in an attempt to intercept me in the air.


    With his frustration and my boredom at an all-time high, I decided to up the ante and ceased the flow of EM mana in favor of forming the Chrono Dial around my wrist. Seeing his opening, Elijah launched himself off the wall with tremendous force. Cracking the stone baseboards and sending his body rocketing in my direction. Without moving, I tuned the Dial down to its lowest setting and watched Elijah¡¯s palm slow to a near-halt before my nose. Then calmly pulled myself away with an Artificial Well to take a look around the frozen world.


    Elijah¡¯s fierceness aside, Opal and Zakira were by the sidelines. The former''s face was frozen in a proud smirk, her eyes focused midway between where Elijah had crushed the wall and his current position. The latter; on the other hand, was standing much like a cheerleader missing pompoms. Feet and knees together, hands clasped before her chest with an awed expression locked on her face.


    Beyond that, I saw only three individuals watching from the stands. The two lizardfolk were sitting in the first row closest to the door. Far enough away to where they¡¯d hardly been seen as they watched any potential newcomer with predatory eyes. For now, though, they were watching me with gazes that were hard to read. As expected from faces covered with scales and frills like something out of a Cretaceous movie. Unlike the half-orc male, sitting wide-eyed and alone as far as he could from the entrance like an outcast.


    With those data points set aside in the bank, I had the Artificial Well pull me to the ground and did some calculations while I walked to stand between Zakira and Opal. When used in this way, the Chrono Dial was undoubtedly my most taxing spell. It was effectively the same as traveling at lightspeed but without having a change in velocity. From my perspective, time was brought to a standstill. Meanwhile, any outside observer would see me disappear and reappear in another place in the same instance.


    With this method, I assumed the spell would hold for an hour at most. A ridiculous length of time to venture through a frozen world to be sure. But that timespan was extended by applying the spell as a trap rather than a domain, as was the case with Hill Base¡¯s schools and production lines during our stay there.


    ¡°Fascinating.¡± I grinned. Half at the implications of the other side of the coin, and half from the sound of my voice echoing through this timeless domain. However, those implications were set aside for later. Instead, I canceled the spell and watched Elijah plummet into the far wall like an artillery shell led astray, sending a line of cracked craters along the wall and ground from him skipping to a grinding halt.


    ¡°Alright! That¡¯s enough for now. I''m hungry.¡± I clapped, causing the girls beside me to leap away with mixed reactions. Then came the obligatory well-natured chides and overbearing compliments.


    They lasted for a full five minutes and came to an abrupt halt from Opal stepping between me and Zakira with pleading eyes. ¡°Zed? You mind if I talk to Amun for a bit?¡± She didn¡¯t even try to hide it -the melancholia quivering her voice. Instead, she rode it like a wave. Even as she turned to Elijah and ordered him to accompany her to breakfast ahead of us. And after watching them go with almost longing eyes, she turned back to me. ¡°Amun. It¡¯s not my place to explain Zakira¡¯s past. But¡­¡± She stepped forward with a deep breath. ¡°All I¡¯ll say is that she¡¯s like a sister to me. She¡¯s been through a lot. I left our home to help her, but I¡¯m not what she needs. You are. You¡¯re a perfect match for her.


    ¡°Not in a romantic sense.¡± She stepped forward. ¡°You¡¯re what she needs to be able to grow into who she wants to be. And that¡¯s all I want for her. She¡¯s happy around you. More importantly, she''s herself around you. So don¡¯t treat her any differently than you are now; not that I can tell you what to do. But... can you promise me that? And.¡± She stepped closer. ¡°Can you tell me what your intentions are with her?¡±


    ¡°My intentions, huh?¡± I sighed. ¡°Well, I¡¯m a young, as she would say, elven devil. Zakira is a young vampire that I genuinely like as a person. She¡¯s my closest friend. If there was anyone I see myself having a family with it would be her. But that¡¯s in the far future.¡± I turned to look Opal deep in the eyes. ¡°That¡¯s after my dreams have been realized. In the meantime, I''ll ask her to accompany me on my journey across the realms.


    ¡°So, yeah. I¡¯ll keep your promise.¡±

 120 - The Record

    After our talk, Opal thanked me and accompanied me to the cafeteria for a quick breakfast before the time came to rally the class for an unremarkable day in Zeff¡¯s class. As was the day before, the topic was Mana Molding. And we sat and listened to Zeff over-enthusiastically explaining the theories behind the techniques for the first half of the day. Things I had little-to-no interest in. So I spent the time making a new ¡®program¡¯ in the Eternal Eye to compartmentalize all I knew about Classes in one easy-to-access, not-so-digital place.


    Following lunch, I followed the same procedure but for the guild. Which was still nothing more than a vague concept that I hardly filled out during the length of the class. Instead, I focused on what I needed to design. In particular, the things outside the basics. Things like benefits, retirement pensions, pay, and anything else with the potential to bring others on board.


    Naturally, I was more than excited to check off my to-do list once class ended and migrated to the cafeteria with my party. Unfortunately, though, I saw only Duke and Twig inside. They both ordered a relatively small bowl of food that they wolfed down within seconds before leaving without a word or wave. Looking back, I realized most of Team 1 spent their free time in the common room. Save Winston, who I assumed spent his days brooding in his room.


    Surely as flies on shit, I found them scattered in various places upon returning to the dorms. The first of them was Rhody, leaning under the awning before the door as he watched the scattered crowd like a pervert at a high school sports game. He looked sleazy too. Like a weasel or a rat, complete with the thin frame and lithe fingers that moved almost constantly. He only gave a nod as I approached. Then watched me sit and roll a blunt from the corner of his eye.


    ¡°I knew it.¡± He muttered to himself.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you haven¡¯t seen me.¡± I passed it to him, laughing.


    ¡°You don¡¯t exactly sit where you can be seen. But you wear this shit like perfume.¡± He coughed through a cloud of smoke. ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± He chimed after.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°I assume you¡¯re making your rounds, then?¡± He coughed again, passing it back.


    ¡°That, and seeing what makes people tick.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Seeing what Classes they want. What their dreams are. That sort of thing.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re up to no good.¡± Rhody laughed.


    ¡°Or, maybe I¡¯m looking to recruit.¡± I passed the blunt with a snort.


    Squinting and with his brow raised, Rhody cautiously took the blunt and puffed it twice before speaking softly and slowly. ¡°Recruiting for what?¡±


    ¡°The guild I''m forming.¡± I grinned. ¡°But I¡¯ll explain that to the party in due time. So, what have you got?¡±


    ¡°As thanks for this.¡± He held up the blunt and took two more tokes. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you that I¡¯m from a shit hole near the coast. I had to do what I had to do to survive. I''m sure you understand.¡±


    ¡°I can respect that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I bet.¡± He snorted. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m gonna be a Rogue. Thief or Assassin; don¡¯t matter which. I¡¯m gonna score it big and live a lavish life until my end of days. Can your guild give me that?¡±


    ¡°Most definitely.¡± I snorted this time. ¡°But we can talk about that later. For now, I¡¯m putting together team positions for everyone. Naturally, you¡¯ll be put into a position that¡¯ll let you put your Rogue skills to use. So, tell me about your magic.¡±


    ¡°Clay and Water, with a Ninth-Grade Ice Well,¡± he calmly said before attempting to pass it back.


    ¡°It''s yours.¡± I shook my head and pried myself from the wall. ¡°Good talk.¡±


    Likewise,¡± I heard him say before I shuffled inside, looked around, and strode to Curious Twig sitting in her usual place.


    ¡°Hello, Amun.¡± She lowered her comparatively massive eyes.


    ¡°Hey.¡± I threw my head up.


    ¡°I have seen you are capable of many things.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m also curious about many things.¡± I chuckled. ¡°Like you.¡±


    ¡°Twig has not done many things.¡± She shook her large head. ¡°Twig has lived with her people and ventured to the human cities. Twig was accepted by humans, despite the Folk saying they would not. Now, Twig is here. To do more things.¡±


    ¡°And what kind of things would you like to do?¡± I asked. ¡®Besides refer to yourself in the third person.''


    ¡°Twig is best suited to be a Ranger,¡± She said. ¡°Through this, Twig would like to show the Folk that they too can be accepted; that they too can do great things.¡±


    ¡®Interesting.¡¯ I nodded, then turned back to Twig with a conclusive smile. ¡°Well, you have my word that I¡¯ll do what I can to help you do many great things while we''re here.¡±


    ¡°Twig would be grateful.¡± She bowed her head, giving me the unyielding impulse to pat it. But sadly, I didn¡¯t, for there were more bodies on my list seen just across the room.


    ¡°Hey, Duke.¡± I waved on approach. ¡°How¡¯s the team faring?¡±


    ¡°It fares well.¡± He stepped to the side to turn around, revealing a comparatively small girl sitting at the ¡®bar¡¯ with her head down. ¡°Winston has been unsociable since your duel. But his behavior has improved. I was just assigning Toni, here, her position as Rook.¡±


    ¡°Nice to meet you. I''m Amun.¡± I held out my hand. Then watched her shoot up out of her seat and recoil her hand with wide eyes.


    ¡°Wow!¡± She shouted. ¡°Your hands are fucking cold!¡±


    ¡°Yeah. A side effect of my sorcery.¡± I shrugged.


    Toni, on the other hand, splayed her hands out to me and everyone else as she spun round and around in her chair. ¡°Sorry, everyone!¡± She sheepishly turned back to me to first palm her chest and reach her hand back out. ¡°Sorry. Uhm. I¡¯m Toni Forester! Oh! Right.¡± She snapped her hand onto her lap and let out an ugly chuckle.


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    ¡®This might be difficult.¡¯ I groaned to myself. But sat next to Toni with a warm smile. She had fair skin, painted with a splattering of freckles, and almost bulbous yellow-green eyes matched with brown hair tied off in a single braid draped over her shoulder. A stark contrast from the klutzy display I was just privy to. ¡°I¡¯m doing my rounds,¡± I explained to them both. ¡°Trying to get to know everyone on an individual basis in the hopes of efficiently leading the party. backgrounds, magics, goals. Things like that.¡± I smiled.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Toni perked up. ¡°Well- Uhm, do you know Scarlett?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± She wiped her brow. ¡°That makes this a lot easier! I¡¯m from the Bombyx kingdom." She proudly smiled. "But I¡¯m not a noble or a Druid. I¡¯m from a family of Rangers, like Rebecca!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fascinating.¡±


    ¡°Remarkable, I had no idea!¡±


    ¡°Aw! Thanks, you two.¡± She rubbed the back of her head. ¡°I don¡¯t really know what I wanna do, ya know? But I have Mud and Snow Magic with a 12th Grade Ice Well. What about you?¡±


    ¡®Ah, fuck.¡¯ I groaned. Then went through the tedious explanation of my cores and my upbringing before telling them of the Classes I was most interested in.


    ¡°With your intellect, I assumed you wished to become an Artificer. But a Monk surprises me.¡± Duke scratched his beak and lost himself in deep thought before eventually turning back to me. ¡°If you wish to know, I too wish to become a Ranger. I am from a mountain peak found far from here. After leaving the nest, I traveled across the lands. I Visited many places. Eventually, however, I came to learn of this place.¡±


    ¡°And now you¡¯re here,¡± I said. ¡°What comes after?¡±


    ¡°I shall go wherever the wind takes me.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡± I nodded. Then trailed off once my eyes landed on the stairs leading to our rooms. ¡°On that note, I should go and speak to Winston.¡±


    ¡°He is in his room.¡± Duke remorsefully declared.


    ¡®Noted.¡¯ I nodded to myself. Then took a few steps away before halting and turning about to face Duke with an inquisitive gaze. ¡°There¡¯s something else I wanted to ask you.¡±


    Duke spread his feathered hands and somehow gave off the aura of a gentle smile. ¡°Ask me anything.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m curious about Tengu. How do they look? What are they like? Where and how do they live?¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± He rocked back on his talons. ¡°Tengu are divine creatures with a similar appearance to us Sapiavi. They have feet, like you all, and their skin is often red. They often have an unsettling expression, such as sadness or anger, and boast long protruding noses. Many believe them to be malevolent, but that is not true. They are simply mischievous and highly skilled in martial combat.; often mixing the two into a form of deadly play. Their willingness to ''play'' with other creatures is what makes them evil in the eyes of others, but all Tengu are neutral. With that, I ask. What stems your curiosity?¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± I gasped. ¡°I¡¯ve always been fascinated with birds of all kinds, especially owls.¡± And airplanes. ¡°But any other creature than can fly as well. It¡¯s the ultimate freedom, in my opinion- flying. And I was lucky enough to be given an affinity that lets me do it with ease.¡±


    ¡°So you wish to fly with Tengu?¡± Duke surmised.


    ¡°Or at the very least meet one. And, if possible, befriend one.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°Admirable!¡± He chirped. ¡°I look forward to the day we fly together.¡±


    ¡°As do I.¡± I grinned. Then gave him and Toni a final nod before departing down the stairs.


    While talking to the entire party didn¡¯t take as long as I thought it would. I still only had the basics of what I wanted- which was everything. Personalities, temperaments, and dispositions. Habits and mannerisms. Internal and external conflicts. Strengths and flaws. Weaknesses and quirks. Any piece of information that I could use to both get them on my side and to give me another thing to do in this assumedly endless lifetime.


    That said, I still hadn¡¯t had another talk with Urshure. But it wasn¡¯t too hard to surmise what he was after. His way of speaking made it clear that he had high regard for Tiamat, making it more than likely that he sought to gain power from her by becoming a Warlock. Aside from anything related to that, he wanted to follow his draconic nature by adding to his horde. Traits that were neither good nor bad in my eyes. But I couldn¡¯t ignore that, out of everyone, Urshure had the highest potential of stabbing me in the back someday.


    But then again, he¡¯d prove to be a powerful undead if it ever came to that.


    That said, I potentially had a way to prevent anyone from ever backstabbing me. So, in all, that left Winston, whom I¡¯ve had little-to-no interaction with since our duel. It wasn''t as if he was hateful or even fearful of me, though. He¡¯s just been keeping to himself ever since his defeat. He''d apply himself in class, eat alongside his team in silence, and spend any other ounce of time in his room doing any number of things; there was no way to tell. But whatever it was, I was about to ruin it. Not for the sake of my character sheets or the team positions. Simply because the record needed to be set straight.


    ***


    Winston Epeth.


    ***


    ¡°Mana Veil, Bolstering, Projection.¡± I let a frustrating sigh ring through my room. ¡°There has to be more.¡±


    Annoyed, I flung the book across the room to lie across my bed. Only to be annoyed even further once I habitually turned to stare at a window that was there and wasn¡¯t all the same. Just an amber glow behind a glass pane that occasionally flashed blue with a blinding intensity. A stark contrast from the endless verdant hills of Epethia.


    Letting out another sigh. I rolled into my pillow, muttering under my breath. ¡°I hate this.¡± I hated living in a room that reminded me of things I¡¯d rather forget. I hated stepping outside to feel shame and embarrassment. I hated not having Issac and Willard by my side. It was becoming too much to bear. But quitting wasn¡¯t an option. All I could do was keep excelling, graduate at the top of the class, take hold of the Epethian Army, and reclaim the vast lands my forebearers threw away.


    If only the teachers just told us how to use the techniques instead of explaining what they did before demanding we try them.


    "You¡¯ll never learn by laying here,¡± I muttered into my pillow. Then stood with a heavy sigh to return to my desk a moment later. But then a knock rapped on my door, halting my step for just a moment before another troubled sigh escaped my lungs.


    ¡°What do you want, Du-¡±


    Ruefully, a gasp escaped my lips after seeing Amun standing before me with a warm smile that was somehow more off-putting than his impertinent stare. ¡°I¡¯d like to talk,¡± he said in that emotionlessly slow accent of his. ¡°May I come in?¡±


    Though I wanted to slam the door in his face, a bigger part of me knew it wouldn¡¯t bring me closer to my goals. So I bit my tongue and led him inside without a word.


    To little surprise, he entered without words also. His eyes, however, scanned my abode as his chest rose and fell in a deep sigh. Then he turned to me. ¡°I don¡¯t have anything against you, Winston. I just don¡¯t like bullies.¡±


    ¡°So, you become a knight for the misfortunate?¡± I scoffed. ¡°Don¡¯t make me laugh.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll remind you that you were the one who challenged me after I asked why you didn''t like me.¡± Amun dryly chuckled. ¡°Regardless, I don¡¯t fight other people¡¯s battles.¡± He paused as if there were something more he wanted to say, giving me a hard look until he eventually continued. ¡°That said. The fact that you bully Peter because he used to be a slave bothers me. Deeply.¡±


    ¡°Why does it bother you?¡± I calmly sneered. ¡°Why do you even care?¡±


    ¡°Because slavery bothers me. Deeply. People- lives are not property.¡± He said simply, then took a book he was holding under his arm and placed it on the table before he made his way to the door. ¡°But I¡¯m not here to lecture you, Winston. I don¡¯t hate or even dislike you. And I don¡¯t see you as an enemy either. I see us becoming friends, actually. So long as you change your ways. But, of course, whether you do or don¡¯t is up to you.¡± He turned at the door to face me with that impertinent stare. ¡°Outside of my duties as party leader, I won¡¯t tell you anything. Except for this one thing: Around a week before I arrived off the coast of Rook Island, I paid gold to explore the Inner Sanctum of Epeth.


    ¡°I... hated what I saw.¡± He sneered. ¡°Starved children in rags and chains- covered in scars while they cart people around or worse. Nobles and royals spitting on the very hands that grow their food produced their goods, and provide their wealth. An empire of takers, born from ego and sustained by pride. A culture that destroys and hordes without ever giving back, leaving nothing but ruin in their wake. That- the culture- is the only thing I hate.¡±


    With that, he turned and left before I could even reply. Leaving me staring at the ghost of his visage still standing by the door; trying to come up with a retort and failing no matter how many times I tried.


    Not that it mattered.


    In an attempt to put him out of my mind, I sat before my desk and came face to face with what he¡¯d left. And after taking one glance at the title, I ripped myself from the seat to throw myself over my bed.


    ¡°People are not property?¡± I scoffed into my pillow. ¡°Tell that to my Mother.¡±

 121 - Here, There Be Dragons

    With my chat with Winston marked off the list, I was able to take some time and focus on the things I wanted to do in excesses. Namely, train Peter and experiment with magic. Fortunately- or not, I awoke and gathered the party in front of Olga¡¯s class for our final lecture before the practical lessons began. And it was the lecture I¡¯d been looking forward to the most.


    ¡°Dragons!¡± Olga sneered nefariously, causing an immediate wave of journals and notepads to flutter open. ¡°True Dragons are a species unlike any other. Found in every realm, save the Inner Reaches, they are often regarded as highly as other divine creatures. Sphinxes, Phoenixes, Nemean Lions, The Cerberus, Hydra, Kraken, the Abyssal Leviathan, Chimeras, and more. But dragons simultaneously exist within a realm of their own.


    ¡°Dragons were birthed before all other creatures.¡± She declared. ¡°Spawned from two entities who, in turn, were spawned from the Nonusian Tree of Life. Bahamut, the Platinum Dragon gave rise to the Metallic Dragons. While the Multicolored Queen Tiamat birthed the Chromatic Dragons. No matter the type, dragons are considered the most powerful, long-lived, and intelligent creatures in existence. The reason is because of two unique traits that all dragons share.


    "First.¡± She whipped her pointer to a chart filled with a range of years and names. ¡°Dragons have what¡¯s called, Genetic Memory Inheritance. They are born with the knowledge of their ancestors; to what extent, only they know. Second, dragons are one of the few creatures to grow stronger as they age. No matter the color, they go through twelve growth cycles.¡± She ran her pointer down the length of the chart. ¡°Ranging from the less than a year old Hatchlings to the Great Wyrms who¡¯ve lived for over a twenty-five millennium.¡±


    I did as many others did during her short pause and committed the chart to memory. Albeit by taking a quick glance to capture it in my Eternal Eye rather than manipulating ink into numbers and words. After focusing on it, however, I couldn¡¯t help but alter the redundant stages like ¡®very young¡¯ and spent a few milliseconds condensing the chart by a fair bit. On my scale, a Juvenile Wyrmling encompassed the Hatchling, Young, Juvenile, and Wrymling stages of development, covering birth up to 24 years old. The following stages remained the same; with Young Adult Dragons ranging from ages 25 to 99, Adults from 100 to 499, and Mature Dragons from 500 to 999 years. After that, it was condensed again, for in my eyes, everything older than that was a Wrym.


    ¡°Metallic Dragons are usually far less nefarious than their counterparts.¡± Olga continued once everyone was done, prompting the ''board'' above her to stencil several quite dissimilar dragons onto the page. ¡°Since ancient times, Metallic Dragons have been said to coexist with the other species. Though they can be as wrathful and fearsome as any dragon if provoked, they¡¯re generally considered altruistic and benevolent creatures. Some are simply curious about human activities and seek information while others even go to the extent of protecting our societies or working alongside us.


    ¡°As their namesake suggests, their scales strongly resemble various metals. And they all boast the ability to change their shapes to live in our societies; Polymorphed to appear as us so they can spend time among our kind and learn of our ways. Though, these are generalities. The most infamous of the Metallics is the Iron Dragon,¡± Olga smirked, giving us one of her trademark winks as she pointed to an almost crab-like dragon with a squat stance and massive front claws. "They possess powers of earth and are the only dragon of the type to follow their predatory nature without restraint. Yet they still coexist with other species, often by ruling with a literal iron fist, as they are extremely stubborn and often believe the ends justify the means. Due to this, they are not always benevolent, which should serve as a reminder to you all. Living creatures are more than mere appearances. All metallic dragons aren¡¯t good. Nor are all orcs, goblins, and other such creatures evil.


    ¡°Anyway.¡± She sighed, redrawing the page into a sleek, beast with many sharp teeth protruding from its maw. ¡°Mercury Dragons are among the uncommon metallics as well. The ones that have been found have been seen as fickle and arrogant as the waters they command. Often to such a degree to consider them mentally imbalanced, if well-natured. But they are the rarest. The first of those commonly found across the world are Lead Dragons, renowned for being the least intelligent but by no means dumb. They are also the most durable and the weakest flyers. Thus they occupy deserts, wastelands, and other such areas, protecting their territory with their acid breath."


    It was more worm-like than any dragon I''ve ever heard of. Almost like a comparatively tiny-legged grub with frills somewhat like the worm we spotted in the desert. Only... uglier.


    "Copper Dragons are one of the friendliest among their kind. In a way, they had a childlike quality about them- Having a flair for pranks, jokes, and riddles whenever they happen to leave their mountain lairs. So much so that the teasing of a Copper Dragon will continue throughout an en engagement. And persist long after." She giggled alongside most of the class in response to the goat-like copper dragon. "On the contrary, Cobalt Dragons are the fiercest,¡± Olga grimly said, killing everyone''s mirth with the rendering of something that strongly resembled a raptor with frilled horns. ¡°That extends to both their visage and their prowess in battle. They¡¯re the draconic champions, fighting alongside humans as gladiators and warriors alike and dominating the battlefield with their magnetic lightning breath."


    ''Their what?'' I blinked rapidly.


    ¡°The last and most powerful of the type are Gold Dragons." She dramatically declared, bringing our eyes to a proper mix of Eastern and Western dragons. its body was broad, yet lithe, with a serpentine neck and snout tipped in majestic whiskers. "These fire-breathing creatures are as wise as they are reclusive. Few, if any, have ever been recorded in the last thousand years. And while there are rumors of other benevolent dragons existing, no records from the explored realms gave any proof of their existence since the opening of the portals. But that isn¡¯t the case for the Chromatic Dragons,¡± she said. ¡°Akin to the name, they have scales of varying hues that are assumed to represent the elements they generate within their bodies. Generally, they¡¯re considered vain, arrogant, greedy creatures; uncaring of who or what they destroy to see their plans to fruition. Actions that deem them evil in the eyes of many. But we of the Bodhi Tree turn our backs to such avenues of thinking.¡±


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    ¡®A philosophy I can agree with.¡¯ I nodded to myself before the ''board'' changed once again.


    This one was a Komodo-like dragon, albeit with a drill-like horn centered at the base of its crocodilian snout. ¡°Following the same method as before, we first have Orange Dragons. Also known as Earth Dragons, they burrow in deserts and badlands like the Lead Dragon, preferring to skin their prey into their subterranean lairs. They prefer to simply let their prey starve in their lairs. But should you fight them, you should be aware of their breath attack. Getting caught in it results in calcification, but not petrification. But be reminded that these are the weakest of their type. After them, comes the Yellow Dragon. Or, as many love to call them, Acidic Hive Dragons."


    Indeed, yellow dragons boasted black stripes running horizontally down their bulbous tails, tapered and tipped in a viciously curved stinger. And with swept forward horns resembling antennae and scales that resembled chitin, with wasp or dragonfly-like wings, they looked exactly like the draconic yellow jackets spawned from someone''s deepest nightmares.


    "Named so not only because of their appearance, but because Yellow Dragons are also the most social, often existing as the center of hive formed within acrid wastelands, quagmires, and bogs." Pausing, she allowed us to study the next creature- a true crocodilian. Green, angry, and dwelling in dense jungles and choking swamps. "They are social but with people more than with beasts. Intrigue and cunning are their games. And their affinity for poison ensures few of their enemies can make it to their playing field. But when they are forced to fight, they are known to wade through their swamps to ambush their prey with a cloud of toxic gas.


    ¡°At their rightful place at the center of the power scale, Blue Dragons follow. They are, by far, the most versatile of all dragons, as they can not only exist in a wide range of climates, but their climate influences the hue of their scales and the effect of their water. Within the temperate waters of paradise, they are blue. But if they lair near the White Walls or some other cold place, they become white in hue and are often called Glacial Dragons. If they lair near the Steam Line or somewhere hot, they become Gray Dragons. The catch is, their breath attacks will be the opposite. Glacial dragons will breathe steam and vice versa. Yet they are in the middle of the spectrum due to their limited intelligence and strength coupled with their superior swimming speed."


    A shame, that was, as it was the most beautiful creature seen thus far. Its scales resembled both feathers and fur akin to an aquatic raptor or mammal, complete with streamlined horns protruding from its conical head and beaked maw. Surprisingly, the following creature was much the same. Only like a hawk rather than an Osprey, with thick claws and a particularly wide chest that stuck out into the air proudly. "Similarly." Olga pressed on, Indigo Dragons are the fastest flyers. And also the most vain, entitled, and pretentious. They claim rocky coasts, open seas, or any place with unbroken air currents, defending them with air jets made hot or cold."


    Next came quite a surprise. A creature that, in my eyes, appeared no different from a Canid with wings. Not a dog or wolf, per se. More like a Spotted Wolf or Fennec fox with the same strange scales as the Indigo Dragon. But instead of many horns protruding from the head and maw, it had two large horns that appeared both like satellite dishes and dog ears. "Violet Dragons, also known as Lightning dragons, dwell in regions prone to dry thunderstorms; as opposed to their counterparts, the Cobalts and their wet thunderstorms. They are one of the few dragons who prefer building many, smaller lairs, due to their swift nature as the second-fastest flyers. They are the second strongest of their type behind reds but far more cunning. And so, oftentimes more dangerous."


    That got a snort of derision out of Urushure that was promptly cut short once a red dragon appeared on the ''board.'' Horns swept back on the side of its great head. Eyes like hateful pits of magma. Yet graceful.


    ¡°Lastly, we have what everyone thinks of when they hear the word ¡®Dragon.¡¯ Red Dragons.¡± She declared. ¡°They are among the most powerful of all dragons, matched only by the majestic Golds. Reds are known for their avarice above all else. But their greed is equally measured by their intellect, so it goes without saying: if you ever happen to encounter a Red Dragon- no matter the age, do one thing and one thing only.


    ¡°Surrender!¡± She yelled, much to everyone¡¯s surprise. ¡°Running will only make it see you as a toy and give chase. And if you¡¯ve slighted it, it will chase you to Egedil if necessary. You can only hope that it allows you to live in exchange for your services. Or.¡± Olga drearily sighed. ¡°You can try to fight it, and hope you die mercifully.¡±


    ¡®Yeah, whatever.¡¯ I snorted.


    ¡°While the Nonusian Tree of Life¡¯s branches reaches far beyond the scope of dragons, it would take years for us to go over the virtually endless number of creatures found within the realm. So we¡¯ll close this course of study with a short review of the Lesser Dragons.¡± Olga explained with a smile. ¡°These are creatures evolved from dragonkin. Either by ritual or natural evolution. The most famous example would be the Dragonborne.¡± She gestured to a growling Urshure. ¡°But other examples include Wyverns, Drakes, Dragon Turtles, and various types of Wyrms found throughout the realms. For any of you interested in these creatures, you¡¯ll find your textbooks updated with descriptions of those just named, including dragons. And with that.¡± She took a short bow. ¡°You¡¯re dismissed for lunch. See you soon.


    ---


    Lunch wound up being unremarkable. I ate with the team and made a quick venture to a far-off corner of the courtyard after smoking to find Urshure sitting on a bench, staring through a small gap in the canopy that gave views of the mountain range sitting to the far north.


    Deciding against any dragon or dream talk, I decided to be straight with him and asked him about his abilities. And while he was willing to oblige, his vague answers didn¡¯t tell me anything new. He could fly, could breathe fire, and claimed to be stronger than a Goliath. That said, he also sort of vowed to one day become a warlock and be granted higher magic through Tiamat¡¯s grace. Albeit in a far, far more convoluted way that didn''t even mention the Multi-Colored Queen by name. But I was able to read at least that much.


    With that done, I smoked a quick one before returning to Olga¡¯s class to begin this quarter¡¯s focus: Botany and Horticulture.


    The task for today was to venture out into the wilds and make a few more terrariums. This time using the lessons learned from the last class and Olga¡¯s guidance to make some that¡¯ll last a lifetime. Then, we went inside for the arduous task of documenting the flora and fauna found within and pointing out their environmental roles for points. In the end, I netted a solid fifteen points, bringing me back up to a solid 40-point balance after emptying my reserves to help rent a training room for the year.


    A room I only used once, might I add.


    But at least Peter and Slate were using it, which was what truly mattered. Speaking of, the former cut through the group to approach me after we were dismissed to excitedly ask if I could keep training him. ¡°Sure.¡± I shrugged in agreement before looking around at the mix of envious, curious, and mute faces surrounding us. And without thinking, I shrugged again. ¡°The rest of you can come too if you want.¡±

 122 - Recruiting

    Most if not all of the party followed me through the halls to the gym. There were a few slackers in the back of the group that may or may not have been struggling to decide against going to the cafeteria instead and yet many more who simply wanted to scratch the itch of curiosity. Either way, they were a welcome addition. The gym, on the other hand, was more packed than I would have liked. With it being just after class, however, I couldn¡¯t have expected anything different. And with the courtyard off-limits for this type of training, it was the only feasible place that didn''t require me to pool what little points I had left with the rest of the party.


    Looking around, I saw twenty or so students scattered in the stands but paid them little mind while I led everyone to the center and lifted them through the hatch in the ceiling to bring us to the outskirts of a mock city; a far better environment than the plain tiles stretching across the first floor. With almost no words, we moved to the open fields and farms overlooked by the great gate, wherein I took a moment to scan the platoon of expectant faces before kneeling to reach into my shadow.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I sighed. ¡°Those of you who can manipulate the elements, come forward one at a time. The rest of you come in behind them.¡± Half-knowing what was going on, my team stood to the side and watched me give the humans a copy of the Elemental Tomes and the Manipulation Theories. Minus Winston, who only got the latter this time around. ¡°Study these in your free time and share them with no one.¡± I sternly told them. ¡°Not the teachers. Not your friends. Not even the headmaster. That¡¯s all I ask.¡±


    Many of them were reluctant, but they all more or less agreed after flipping through a couple of pages and coming to understand the wealth of knowledge they¡¯d just been given. ¡°What our dear teachers didn''t tell us was that molding mana is just the beginning. Concentrating mana on your eyes, ears, or any other body part will yield different effects. That, elemental manipulation, or martial combat is what we¡¯ll be training today. Now then. Get ready to meet your training partners." While Zakira let out a giddy laugh, Peter and everyone else braced themselves for the subtle panic spreading through the crowd as I gathered shadow mana into my lungs and shouted. ¡°Doppelgangers, rise!¡±


    Preceded by a choir of shrill yelps and a roll of clamors, the fifteen umbral clones rose from the ground to stand before their originals. Smiling and waving in the face of their shaken owners, only distinguished by the ''mist'' of darkness falling from their frames- or lack thereof. ¡°These clones are undying,¡± I declared with a lightning-fueled strike at my clone¡¯s neck. Then waited for it to reform before continuing. ¡°Not only that, but they¡¯re as strong as you- the originals are. Use them to train. And come to me, Peter, or Winston for any questions regarding manipulation or molding.¡±


    Hearing the words, Peter turned to me with bulging eyes and took a few steps back while Winston held a mute expression and first looked at me, then at Peter, and then down to the ground as if he was deep in thought. I simply gave Peter a smile and a reassuring nod before stepping away with my clone to retrieve my weapon from the console and begin sparring in earnest.


    It had been a while, after all.


    ***


    Winston Epeth.


    ***


    ¡®Unbelievable.¡¯ Staring wide-mouthed, I reached forward to grab the face- my face and wrenched it to the side. And as a body of flesh would have, it lurched according to my pull. It even reddened on the spot I gripped it. The only difference was how dreadfully cool its skin was. But... ¡®It¡¯s actually me.¡¯ I dejectedly laughed. Looking around, I saw the other dozen pair of twins scattered across the mock city, fighting and slinging spells around without remorse. ¡®And there are so many. Just from¡­ our shadows.¡¯


    ¡°Winston, can you help me?¡±


    I didn¡¯t even need to turn to know it was Rebecca. And without thinking, I retorted without so much as budging. ¡°Ask Peter.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t that I was angry or even bothered by her or the situation. I was simply entranced by what had happened so effortlessly before our eyes. The sight of something as innocuous as a shadow taking on an amorphous form and rising into a clone to match every punch, kick, or maneuver its counterpart made. It terrified me just as much as it intrigued me. And so, from the time I first saw it up until now, I''ve been lost in a trance. Staring at my clone- my... Doppelganger, in a state of helplessness, stuck while my mind drifted and came back to the same question again and again.


    ''Could my barrier or my scales produce such a clone?¡¯


    Nearly ten minutes had passed, yet the answer eluded me still. And this distraction of a job pulling at my mind only furthered me from trying. But looking back, my actions were nothing short of rude. And worse, my rudeness came for no other reason than my interest in something else. But still, the answer to whatever problem she was having was written in the very books she carried. Our ability to manipulate the elements was solely dependent on our understanding of the element in question. According to Amun, the density of our Mana Wells was irrelevant when concerning the power output of manipulation. In that regard, it was more a physical ability than a magical one. Which meant that Rebecca was thinking about these things in the wrong way.


    And¡­ so was I.


    Barriers. Scales. Both served defensive purposes. But one was a solid form while the others were a flexible mesh. One blocked. The other countered. One was generally static while the other was dynamic. Since the beginning, I¡¯ve been content with that answer. But, there had to be more to it. There just had to be.


    ¡°Hey-¡± I turned back, stopped, and habitually sneered upon seeing Scarlett in mid-consultation with Peter. He had it easy, for he had no martial master to feed him lies during his youth. Only anger he used as motivation to learn these practices- and in doing so, take his magical abilities to greater heights all on their own. I, however, had to grind on my own to unlearn what I thought I knew, then work some more to figure out the secrets to a magic that¡¯s been untrained by my progenitors for generations. And, Amun... Well, even I could not deny his genius. With that said, however, he had elven blood, so he wasn¡¯t really comparable to any of us in the first place. But still, he was unlike anyone I¡¯ve ever met. Charismatic and introverted. Selfish, but reliable. Intelligent but open-minded. Wise and free-spirited. Powerful and humble. Greedy but fair. A disrespectful prick and a not-so-bad guy. He was all of those things and much more. That, I learned by observing his actions since our duel. But no matter how much I observed- no matter how much I learned, the more questions I had about him. Questions I found myself struggling to ask.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°You seem to be the only one, not training.¡±


    I turned to the source of the amiable voice and saw the devil himself smirking just behind me.


    ¡°You told me to teach, not train.¡± I turned to face him.


    ¡°To teach is the highest form of training.¡± He simply; cryptically said before turning to those nearest to us. ¡°Instead of working on your strengths, focus on the techniques you struggle with the most.¡± Many of them nodded their acknowledgments to Amun before resuming their drills. In a way, watching their change in attitude from the sidelines was surreal. Due in no small part to our duel, I was sure. But it hadn¡¯t even been a week and they talked to him in much the same way they did Mr. Wolfgang. Only to a much friendlier, more open extent.


    As if to prove that point, Rebecca came running up to Amun, claiming she had trouble manipulating water. And frustratingly, he turned to me his brows raised expectantly.


    ¡°You struggle with water because of your affinities.¡± I sighed. ¡°Just pull water from the air, nearby plant life, or even the blood of another creature if you really have to.¡± I sighed, then laughed inside in the face of Scarlett¡¯s mortified expression.


    Amun, on the other hand, was grinning wide like an old professor. ¡°Good answer.¡± Eliciting a short but contemptuous groan out of me.


    ¡®Who exactly does he think he is?''


    Still, Amun invited her to try again, and after sweeping her hand through the air several times, a thin film of water could be seen covering her fingers. Though not much, only enough to make it seem as if she were sweating profusely. ¡°That¡¯s a start.¡± Amun stepped closer with a nod. ¡°Water has a unique property in that it loves itself dearly. The molecules stick to each other like a clingy lover. So as you continue sweeping your arm around, more water will latch onto the film you have now.¡±


    He was clearly moving too fast. Even for me. It was obvious that both she and I were hung up on a single word that nearly rendered all his other words moot. The point was understood, sure. But it was also placed at the furthest recesses of our minds to accommodate the budding curiosity that¡¯d festered in its place. ¡°What¡¯s a molecule?¡± Rebecca finally asked, causing me to unconsciously step forward in anticipation of the answer and for Amun to impatiently pinch the bridge of his nose and groan.


    ¡°It¡¯s in the book I gave you.¡± He turned a disapproving eye to me. ¡°Did you not read it.?¡±


    I looked away, mumbling. ¡°A few pages. I skimmed through most of it though.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I bet.¡± Amun chuckled, clearly unamused. ¡°Let me guess, you think I¡¯m trying to bribe you?¡±


    ¡°N- not exactly.¡± I stammered, suddenly taken aback by the abrupt change in behavior.


    ¡°But I¡¯m sure some do. So now¡¯s the perfect time to lay everything on the table.¡± Turning, he waved to have the clones corral the rest of the party around him and wasted no time to address them. ¡°I realized now is the perfect time for candor. And so, as some of you may or may not have suspected, it is true that in giving you these tomes, I act in self-interest and self-interest alone. Not to bribe, mind you, but to train you into the best party in Class 999. That said, I and I alone discovered and developed the theories before I arrived at the Bodhi Tree. And while the staff has an understanding of Mana Molding, I still wish to share my manipulation theories with the world. Starting with this party. And then the with others come year¡¯s end. And finally, with the Bodhi Tree itself after we graduate. If you see that as a bribe, that¡¯s fine with me. But I want you all to realize that these tomes benefit yourselves just as much as they benefit me.¡±


    ¡°I admire your honesty.¡± A dull thud preceded Duke¡¯s songful voice, echoing from above just before his doppelganger slammed into the ground a few meters away from the crowd. Then the sea of heads swiveled up just in time to see him sweeping down on his wings to settle before Amun. He was a towering mass of feathers, beak, and still-eyes that were surely imposing; yet, his intimidation factor was all but driven out by his gentle aura and demeanor.


    Plus, he was annoying.


    ¡°I am curious as to why you are so driven. What are your ambitions? With us, and for both your time at this institute and your travels abroad?¡± He asked.


    Amun sighed before he looked away as if he needed to think. Only to turn back to Duke and the rest of the party after a surprisingly short amount of time, his eyes brimming with confidence and resolve like that of a seasoned royal. ¡°Well, I intend to become a Grandmaster Artificer and a Monk next year. Aside from that, I aim to graduate at the top of the class and become a Guild Master. Once the guild is established, we''ll have five primary objectives. The first is to return to Maru, breach the barrier, and reclaim the continent of Ulai by finding the portals to the other realms.¡±


    "You what?" I spat in disbelief.


    ¡°What comes after?¡± Duke calmly asked as if I¡¯d said nothing. ¡°That should take, at most, decades. But you are of the Fae. You will live for centuries.¡±


    ¡°Our second goal will then be to bring Maru into an era of prosperity. Once that is done, we shift into long-term goals, the first of them being to seek ancient knowledge.¡± He declared with a palm to his chest. ¡°I am a necromancer by birthright. With my power, I aim to commune with the dead and use their knowledge to restore ancient ruins and cultures to their former glory, and also learn the true history of the Mortal Plane. Not just the fifteen hundred years of recorded history, but everything. The fourth objective is to do as all guilds do and search for lost societies to uplift while we explore each and every realm in the Mortal Plane.


    "The last objective is more a personal task of mine.¡± He humbly chuckled. ¡°I aim to help my followers realize their dreams. That''s the least I can do to repay them helping me realize mine. Beyond that. Well¡­ we¡¯ll cross that bridge after we build it.¡±


    ¡°I do not understand.¡± Duke shook his beak. ¡°There was no mention of bridges.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a way with words.¡± Amun chuckled in pain. ¡°It means I¡¯ll deal with it when the time comes. Kind of.¡±


    ¡°A way with words.¡± Duke slowly repeated to himself. ¡°Interesting.¡±


    ¡°Yeah... Regardless, the first step to achieving my goals starts with graduating at the top of the class. And that starts here. With all of you.¡± He paused to look around before continuing. ¡°I need your help to dominate the other parties in everything- academics, combat, and points. I¡¯ll teach you everything I know to make that happen.¡±


    ¡°Referring to your guild. Why should we join?¡± Urshure finally chimed in with a crowd-turning growl. ¡°You attempt to gain our allegiance in exchange for power?¡±


    ¡°Well, I''ll be honest with you all and tell you upfront that I may be ambitious and powerful, but I¡¯m also lazy and self-centered.¡± Amun boldly declared. ¡°I¡¯m possibly a bit arrogant as well. But I¡¯m smart enough to make my words more than just lip service. I''m smart enough to know that not even I can protect and save everyone; not that I want to. As such, I give my subordinates everything they need to succeed. You join and you''ll be paid accordingly, of course. Not only in gold but in knowledge, power, resources, facilities, and more. Any and everything I have will be yours. And as I just mentioned, I¡¯ll assist you in pursuing whatever ambitions you have, so long as they aren''t detrimental to us or our cause.


    "In other words, yes. I do attempt to gain your allegiance. But I will not force you, or anyone to do anything they don''t want to. If you want to join, that''s fine. If you don''t, that''s fine too. If you don¡¯t want to follow my lead in this Party, even that¡¯s fine. But I will train you regardless, for anyone who calls themselves my ¡®teammate¡¯ should be as strong as their potential allows. Nothing more. Nothing less.¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± Urshure grunted. Though it was clear he was still skeptical.


    I, however, was unsure if Amun was bluffing or outright crazy. If he was bluffing, he was a phenomenal liar. But if he really wanted to cross the barrier and enter Ulai, I wasn¡¯t sure even he would survive.

 123 - Blueprints

    Amun.


    ***


    When I asked the others to stay on the hush about the guild, it wasn¡¯t that I wanted to keep the idea hidden from the world. I simply wanted to take the pressure off of my vassals- my friends. That included Roheisa and Lucia. I wanted them to make their own friends. Form their own relationships. To follow their hearts. It was when our time came to an end when they¡¯d ask their friends if they wanted to join. If I hadn¡¯t already.


    For all of us, it was our first time away from both our birthplace and home realm. But for them, it was the first time they¡¯d been truly free. Unburdened by the expectations and conditions placed on them by the society from which we were born, great as it may have been. Here was the birthplace of their own ambitions. Here, was a temporal pocket of happiness we¡¯d been afforded before we hopped on the train of eternal burdens. I didn¡¯t want to be the one to ruin that for them. So, I strapped the tasks onto my back and laid it all out for the party to share.


    Once I did, training seemed to cease entirely.


    Instead, the entire party just stood around. Murmuring to each other about what they just heard. Including Winston, who was shuffling forward to murmur to me. ¡°You really are serious about this.¡± He gasped in disbelief. ¡°But, why?¡±


    ¡°Living in Maru is like watching a circus from the crowd,¡± I explained while swearing under my breath. Never would I have thought I¡¯d rue the inexistence of zoos in these societies. ¡°The creatures living beyond the barrier are like the lions jumping through hoops. The tamer- the barrier, is the only thing preventing the lion from leaping into the crowd and ripping everyone to shreds.¡±


    ¡°So.¡± He droned on as the cogs in his mind turned. ¡°The creatures from the other realms have armies behind the barrier. And you think it will break soon?¡±


    ¡°Do you know of any fences or walls that don''t need inspections or maintenance?¡±


    As if my words were a punch, he reeled back and was seemingly forced to look away. ¡°Well¡­ no. I guess not. But that¡¯s what the Marulean Guild Association is for.¡±


    ¡°I think the challenge would be great!¡± Slate boomed alongside Kao. ¡°So long as I meet your standards.¡±


    ¡°I have no standards.¡± I snorted. ¡°The weak can become strong and the dumb can become geniuses given enough time and dedication. No matter how noble or how sleazy you are, I¡¯ll find a place for you.¡±


    With that, I ended our training session and elected to listen to the idle chatter on our way out of the gym. Unsurprisingly to me, many of them revolved around the offer I just made them. While many of them outright claimed they¡¯d join, I chalked it up to blind naivety and turned my focus towards those who were more skeptical to compartmentalize the information in my recently formed Eternal Eye Apps. Regretfully though, tinkering with it had to come later. As the party wordlessly elected to have dinner as a group and continue their chatter in my presence. But also to complement my tomes and ask for some additional training sometime later.


    One other conversation, however, wound up being far more practical than I anticipated. ¡°How will we be paid?¡± Rhody asked from the next table.


    ¡°Pay will be based on rank, of course,¡± I explained. ¡°Those with a higher rank will be given additional benefits such as custom armor, weapons, and other things. But I estimate those in the lowest rank being paid somewhere around fifty gold a week.¡±


    ¡°Fifty a- Holy shit!¡± He slapped the table. ¡°Who¡¯s funding it, you?¡±


    ¡°I have a fund set up,¡± I admitted. ¡°But most of our income will come from ancient ruins, any entities we go to war with, or the Darkworld- that place has more metals than you could believe.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna steal from the dead?¡± Samson gasped.


    ¡°Trust me when I say the dead have no use for trinkets and gold.¡± I snorted and didn¡¯t say much else. I didn¡¯t want to disclose all my secrets after all. Hill Base was just the start of my magical military-industrial empire. The existing industry would be split in two just like we planned. One for the citizenry and the other for the guild. But there was still room for a third that I had yet to conceptualize. Luckily, Rhody seemed to answer the final question burning in everyone¡¯s minds. Finally, giving me enough peace to wolf down my meal and return to the dorms with Zakira to smoke and tend to the widgets flowing around in my augmented vision.


    As before, there were many things left to be organized and established. Namely, the guild¡¯s name. But I decided that¡¯d be done later, so I cleared out my digital work surface to start from the bottom.


    I knew the guild would have at least three components, the first being the civilian population, which would more or less be an extension of what currently existed. Albeit in a new location and with much grander facilities. As designed, they were on the path to becoming a self-sufficient society. In time, they would become a post-scarcity MagiTech society that was neither depended nor dependent on the guild for resources or protection. The guild would often be elsewhere, after all; but would still fight in times of war. Thus they needed a force to protect and police their lands.


    The second component was the first side of the coin that was the guild. Specifically, the Living Army, led by Toril. Like the civilians, the guild and each subguild were to have a self-sufficient population, including all types of industries. All other things regarding culture were up to the discretion of Toril and the subguild masters. Thus, naturally, the third component was the Undying Army, which would be led by me. But of course, I would send all types of zombie and skeletal detachments to each unit to act as the primary labor force and cannon fodder, while their Doppelgangers ran communications and logistics. On top of that, I felt it necessary to attach a shadow undead to not just each unit but to have each member be accompanied by one as well. In this, they would be akin to permanent ghost officers, acting to ensure that each unit held the same standards between leaders and serving as officers for their undying subordinates.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    As things went, I realized there was a fourth component. The rest of the undead and whoever would later join my party. Toril and the others had their jobs. Thus others would explore by my side, far away from both the empire and guild, acting as their vanguard. Exploring ahead and most likely getting into trouble wherever we went. In turn leaving ruined lands, uplifted countries, and sprawling necropolis'' for them to find between their perilous journeys. As such, I knew I didn¡¯t want anyone with any annoyances like strong morals or a sense of self-righteousness. I wanted chaotic, unruly individuals who weren¡¯t afraid to do dumb shit and break several laws. On top of that, they needed to be resistant; or preferably, immune to necrotic energy and have natural night vision. Zakira was a nice start to that, but I needed more. Around nine or perhaps ten more.


    With the basic idea of the guild established, the next step was to build a foundation by settling on a structure, hierarchy, and standard operating procedure; things I debated much up until this point, and so it was quickly formed into an amalgamation of the Roman Legion, the modern military I spent so much time with back on Old Earth, both fictional and nonfictional depictions of Space Marines, and the legendary Saturnian Knights. Efficiently organized, professionally trained, augmented legionaries who specialized in independent operations without support.


    Over the course of another blunt, I debated nomenclature for ranks and units before toiling to tailor their titles, pay, benefits, load-outs, and all the other things from top to bottom. And much to my astonishment and dismay, what I ended up with wound up being overkill by leaps and bounds- although, after considering the scale of the Mortal Plane, it perhaps wasn¡¯t enough.


    The smallest available unit in the guild was, naturally, a Team. Unlike the teams at the Bodhi Tree, however, each team had only two members. And each squad- or party, was composed of six such teams, plus a Sergeant, a Corporal, a Tinkerer, and a Recovery Witch. Making for a total of eighteen highly skilled individuals per squad, all equipped with an enchanted variation of the standard loadout Giorno made for us months back. Plus their Doppelgangers and an undead partner for everyone.


    In other words, a single squad was composed of 54 living and non-living legionaries.


    Naturally, that led to astronomically large units standing at the top of the ladder. On top of that, however, some units had additional specialists akin to the medics found in the squads. Each platoon had a Supply Sergeant, for example, while the Teams'' Tinkerers and Recovery Witches reported to their platoon Artificers and Medics. At the Company level, the XO took on the duties of a supply officer, and so the company gains a Civil Affairs Lieutenant in exchange. And Battalions gained a Master General and Master Mage to assist with wartime and the arcane.


    Naturally, each subsequent unit had a higher tier of the aforementioned specialists until the ranks capped out at the largest unit within the guild- a Legion.


    Composed of the Imperator- the commander, the Wiser- XO, and the Abyssal Marshal, they and their five specialists were each slated to be in command of no less than 6,143,115 living members. Making for a ground-breaking total of 18,429,369 living, non-living, and umbral legionaries per Legion. And that wasn¡¯t including the auxiliary forces needed to produce and maintain their equipment or the abundance of other things that needed doing before, during, and after a battle or war. Even then, though, my plans called for no less than 11 Legions to be formed by the time we returned to Maru. And more, I estimated 27 would exist by the time our march around the Mortal Plane was complete. Although one in addition to my own was not to exist on paper, the rest of them would be formed before, during, or after uplifting societies across the realms. Tasked with marching in the wake of my advances, they would explore their theater of the Mortal Plane while I forged a path to Tiatus itself and out to the Plane¡¯s rim.


    With that, and a general idea of their headquarters theorized, I moved on to the arduous task of conceptualizing a recruiting method, training regimen, and standard operating procedure for daily operations. As I told the party, I was uncaring as to what type of person joined my guild. Even those I was most disgusted with were capable of being cursed, given a deal, or raised as undead, after all. Making recruiting the easiest task of all, but devising an efficient reception and boot camp wound up taking a bit more time than I bargained for. Eventually, though, I settled on a system that worked and turned my sights on the most important thing of all.


    As I again told the party, I wanted the legions to have an exploration-based focus. My main goal in exploring the Plane was to learn its ancient history. But I had other reasons to travel the realms. Naturally, I wanted to capture a dragon and see the other Trees of Life, starting with Betrarth. But I also wanted to see the Hells and, if I could, try Death¡¯s Key on the gate to the Under. After that, I wanted to explore the Inner Reaches as I journeyed to Youtera to train with the elves. After that, I would explore beyond the White Wall until I arrived at Egedil. Then, I assumed I¡¯d explore Nonus, the Shadow Realm, or the Darkworld with Zakira. Or perhaps live in peace until I grew bored enough to explore those places. Or maybe go out into the void in search of that vibrant universe I saw in Telin''s hand.


    Either way, that was only one side of the coin that was our duty.


    Obviously, I wanted my organizations- Legionaries and civilians alike- to defend our assets, allies, and interests. As I decreed long ago, that required each individual to be as capable as possible. That said, I didn¡¯t want to run around the realms playing hero. Nor did I want to be a murderous villain. At the same time, I didn¡¯t want to run around doing whatever people asked of me for coin. I had coins. Millions upon millions of coins. And the people who needed help shouldn¡¯t have to scrounge up what little they had left to save themselves. That, however, left only a few things as a form of payment. Namely, information, corpses, favors, and prisoners. All of which were fine by me. but could prove to be problematic come time for negotiations.


    Either way, three hours was what I wound up needing to formulate a good foundation for my legions. All that remained was to think about anything else the legions or civilians may wind up needing in the years to come. Like an artificer. Not for the living army. That was Ed, and the civilians would have another. I wanted- needed an artificer for the undead. Some to brew potions and craft necrotic weapons and foul armor for the finest undead in my employ. Aside from that, I also wanted a Bard in my service so I could do as Henry did and have requiems- or as I call it- boss music play during our battles. The civilians, however, needed many things as well. A plethora of livestock and able bodies, namely. But also the start of a church or cult dedicated to me, assuming my imminent ascension was to be believed. But aside from that, the capital needed resources beyond the gems, metals, and stones pulled from the mountain. And the guild, of course, still needed a name.


    But those would come in due time. So I closed out the Guild app and fired up another blunt to begin conceptualizing a new app in my Eternal Eye- a feature I was becoming quite obsessed with. This one, however, was to facilitate the storage of the many enchantments I conceived and to facilitate the designs of the ones to come.


    And there would be many to come.


    Magical versions of cars, planes, televisions, radios, and everything else that existed back in Sol and beyond of course. But also a laundry list of weapons, clothes, and tools that could only be made possible with my magical affinities. Or that of my friends¡¯.

 124 - Magic Seeds

    After days of training before, during, and after class with the vampires, Peter, and my party, I found myself anticipating our return to Olga¡¯s classroom for an undoubtedly slow-paced day of lectures and labs.


    ¡°Magical Plants.¡± Olga strode across the room with an eye-catching smile. ¡°That will be the focus of our studies until the end of the quarter. Magical Plants.¡± She stopped and faced us front and center. ¡°And fungi too!¡± She beamed. ¡°They and their non-magical counterparts are the oldest creatures in existence; and of course, are responsible for life as we know it. They are the foundation of alchemy, primal spellcraft, and more.


    "Naturally, Divine Trees, like the Bodhi Tree, are the second-most sacred trees in existence.¡± She declared with spread arms aimed up at the mighty tree above us. ¡°As far as we are aware, a Divine Tree Seed can be obtained in two ways. The first and easiest method is to claim a seed dropped from any of the Life Trees. The second and most common method is to perform a ritual with another Divine Tree to produce a seed.


    ¡°This tree, in particular, was found by the headmaster over a millennia ago.¡± She explained. ¡°Even he does not know where it came from, but it has spawned many seeds throughout its life. Which in turn have been bestowed upon the graduates of the Guild Master course so that they can evolve their own mystics and the mystics found in the forsaken societies stretching far and wide. Like them, you all will start from the bottom. With magical plants, fungi, and trees. The Faerie Flax in our clothes is but one such example.¡± She continued with a pluck of her collar and a charming smile. ¡°However, our focus will be on live flora: Those that produce an environmental or personal effect when in close proximity to them, or when ingested. Examples include mood-changing spores or pheromones, and magical fruits that give buffs or auras- though sometimes at great risk, or any other effect one may think of.


    ¡°Be it an Incognito Brush or some Pitfall Taproots, you will choose two plants to grow from seed, spore, or sapling. One from my garden.¡± She waved beyond the wall before doing the same toward a wall of potted plants and display cases. ¡°One from my library. You will receive my help with one and nurture the other on your own and present them both for a grade at the end of the quarter. You have until the end of today to assess my library and take your first pick. Once you do, I¡¯ll give you the basics on how to care for your plant before I release you to the garden to choose your second plant. Or, you have the option to find one during your outing tomorrow instead. Any questions?¡± She swiveled her head around before taking a step back and bowing. ¡°Then take your pick!¡±


    After waiting for the initial mob to subside, I approached the living wall to take a scan of the plaques to gain an overall idea of what these plants did. Naturally, there were the obvious ones. Plants or fungi that radiated heat or sapped it away. Some were bioluminescent, some acted like hormone-altering incense, and others released spores that made it easy to ignore pain or hunger. I ended up choosing a fungus that thrived in cold darkness and released a euphoric pheromone. Then began thinking of what plant I wanted to pick and what experiment I wanted to run with it.


    Naturally, my first choice was the opposite of a bioluminescent tree that had frustratingly been named the Shade Oak. It held a dissimilar likeness to the magical mark covering my chest and stomach. A great tree with a splayed hand of leafless branches poised up to the sky. Its bark was black like the permafrost of Deapou. Acting to absorb as much solar radiation as possible to channel into the ice-white grains running from root to leaf. In turn, emitting an aura of twilight that brought the silent cold of a midwinter''s night to anyone in its shade. Looking back, I¡¯d seen a few sprouts in the woods during the last outing so it was safe to assume I could pluck a couple of them, the only question was if it would survive my experiments.


    As for my Cloudhead Mushroom, Olga came to my desk to give me a summary of what¡¯s to be updated in my textbooks and released me to explore her garden until lunchtime. So I joined the few students who¡¯d already gone through the process and went outside to wander around for the next couple of hours. It didn¡¯t take long after that for someone to approach me out of the blue. Surprisingly, however, it was Winston Epeth who slowed to stop at my side and look around uncomfortably before turning his green eyes into mine.


    ¡°So, uhm. I was wondering if you have more reading material?¡±


    ¡®Of course, I do.¡¯ I snorted. Military tactics, principles of the scientific method, explanations for various natural phenomena, psychology. Things that he wasn¡¯t ready for yet. Things that required a pledge or deal to receive. The elemental tomes were for everyone. These, however, were for the Legions. So I asked. ¡°What do you want to learn?¡±


    And surprisingly, he took a look over his shoulders to whisper. ¡°I want to learn what Odissi is like.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± I sighed after a few seconds. ¡°I could talk about it all day. But the best thing for you to do is to do as I did and see for yourself. Or maybe I¡¯ll show you someday.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Besides, you probably wouldn¡¯t believe me if I told you.¡±


    ¡°Try me.¡± He sneered.


    ¡°Well.¡± I tossed my head around and thought. ¡°The land is snowy and cold year-round, but the cities are heated by underground magma channels. Still, most of the land is barren. The citizens either live in city-states or underground complexes- dwarven-made. They all have greenhouses in their homes and can produce their own food. Education is free for everyone. As is healthcare. And there¡¯s no tax or tribute enforced on the people.¡±


    ¡°Then, who pays for everything?¡± Winston shook his head, clearly bemused.


    ¡°My father and great-grandfather.¡± I blankly stated. ¡°The people pay tribute by choice only. But, as far as I''m aware, my father saved it all for my allowance. The only other source of income comes from tariffs. But again.¡± I shrugged. ¡°See for yourself one day.¡±


    ---


    ¡°Good morning, everyone, and welcome to your second outing. As previously stated, you¡¯ll be allowed in the next two Zones. A wide expanse filled with hostile native beasts.¡± Doyle¡¯s lips curled into an excited grin before he panned his head around the crowd of otherwise placid students. ¡°You are invited to hunt and battle these creatures to your heart¡¯s content. And if any of you haven¡¯t chosen a plant for Miss Godzuik¡¯s class, today¡¯s your last chance to do so. If there are no questions, retrieve your gear from the consoles and come back here. You have ten minutes.¡±


    With his dismissal, the party scattered like roaches exposed to the light. Rushing to the nearest console to withdraw their weapons and stack up on potions and food while the heat of discussion filled the air around them. Naturally, that extended to my team. Specifically to Slate, who was hovering over my shoulder asking about what plant I intended to pick.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡®Ah. That¡¯s better.¡¯ I tucked my daggers into my waistband with a grin and patted them before turning to Slate. ¡°It¡¯s a tree that makes twilight,¡± I dismissively said. ¡°My true goal for today is to do some hunting, though."


    ¡°But the animals here are so weak though!¡± Zakira groaned from my other shoulder. Being the only one of us to retrieve no gear, it was clear she meant it too.


    ¡°That¡¯s the point.¡± I snorted. ¡°It¡¯s hunting, not fighting. One is for sustenance. The other is for the experience. To stock up for the winter in a sense.¡±


    ¡°Yeah- no. Sure.¡± She dismissively waved.


    ¡°Hunting would be a good idea,¡± Els grunted with a pat of his satchel. ¡°I can finally fill up this sack of mine.¡±


    ¡°Phrasing.¡± I snickered with Zakira.


    ¡°Then it is settled!¡± Slate nodded with a beaming grin. ¡°Whoever slays the biggest beast wins!¡±


    ¡°Wins what?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t encourage him, Peter,¡± I muttered. ¡°Just nod your head and do what you want when he leaves.¡±


    ¡°Uh, okay?¡± He squinted in confusion. Then turned and bulged his eyes before straining back from erupting in laughter.


    I turned just in time to see Doyle hurriedly stomping out a cigarette and waddling up to us with a meek smile. ¡°Alright.¡± He settled before us with a clap. ¡°Unlike last time, I¡¯ll be staying at a central location while you venture as teams. Should you see each other, you may not attack each other or other party members. That comes later.¡± He grinned knowingly. ¡°Aside from that, the rules are the same as last time. You¡¯re free to take lunch whenever you please and the earliest time to leave is three in the afternoon. I¡¯ll make the final call at five. So.¡± He stepped aside to gesture down the wide dirt path stretching behind him. ¡°Have fun!¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± I jerked my head to the northeast. Evidently serving as the cue for Slate to start off through the brush, shouting over his shoulder about finding the largest beast in these woods. And I just watched him go. Wondered if he even remembered why we were here in the first place.


    ¡°Well.¡± I turned to Peter with a sigh. ¡°We can¡¯t stray too far from him, but I suggest you do the same and stock up on as much food as you can.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to tell me.¡± He laughed. Then ran off with Els into the brush behind Slate. Leaving Zakira and me, standing alone in the thicket.


    Having placed Beacons on them, I made a quick detour to find and pluck a few shade sprouts. Netting a total of three just in case of a failure and then a fourth because I didn¡¯t like odd numbers that weren''t divisible by five. And with that, I followed Zakira around before she found and pulled the plant she was looking for. A clear mix between a flytrap and a pitcher plant.


    A Blood Bog Weed, according to my book. A carnivorous plant that attracted insects and small mammals to its slicked lid. Inevitably causing the prey to fall into its barbed bowl to be punctured and injected with a liquefying venom. Eventually, the viscera would leak through the wounds and accumulate in the bucket to be absorbed over time, leaving a preserved but sweet-smelling husk to attract the next prey.


    ¡°Jeez.¡± I chuckled dryly, looking back to the plant. ¡°That¡¯s fucking brutal.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a vampiric delicacy.¡± She explained with an exaggeratedly pompous flick of her hair. ¡°As a human, you wouldn¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°I keep having to remind people that I¡¯m only half-human.¡± I sighed.


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have to if your hair didn¡¯t hang over your ears.¡± She chided. Then leaned in to tuck my hair behind my ear right ear, leaving the left to loosely cradle my face.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I sighed. Even with my relatively recent trimming, my hair had gotten noticeably longer. As it did in my last life, my hair grew remarkably fast and absurdly thick. Which was part of why I had it locked in the first place. But if I were to live for centuries or more in this universe, it¡¯d surely become an annoyance over time.


    Though, in this magical universe, I was sure I¡¯d find more than one solution for my illustriously long locks.


    ¡°Whatcha thinkin'' about?¡± Zakira teasingly bumped her shoulder into mine.


    Growling, I turned to her with the greatest look of annoyance I could muster and said, ¡°I forgot.¡± Then increased my pace to step ahead of her. Of course, it was a lie, but without my Eternal Eye, I truly would have forgotten. And that in itself was among my greatest pet peeves. Though, she seemed to get the point and subtly hung her head as if to apologize before trailing after me.


    ¡°Have you ever hunted before?¡± I asked after a few steps. If only to change the mood. ¡°Humans not included.¡± I laughed.


    ¡°No.¡± She shook her head.


    ¡°Really?¡± I recoiled in surprise. ¡°Have you ever had human blood?¡±


    ¡°A few times.¡± She nodded with maddeningly wide eyes. ¡°It usually tastes, like, really good. And it made me, like, really strong. But I don¡¯t like drinking everybody¡¯s blood. Most bad people taste bad, ya know? And most good people usually aren¡¯t willing to let me bite them.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fair, I suppose.¡± I shrugged. ¡°But then, what constitutes bad in your eyes?¡±


    ¡°People that hurt people for no reason. Duh!¡± She giggled, bumping into me again. ¡°And people who take away other people¡¯s freedoms. Like the opposite of you!¡±


    ¡°Of me?¡± I recoiled again.


    ¡°Yeah!¡± She leaned in towards me, smiling. ¡°I mean, you helped the entire party.¡±


    ¡°I trained them.¡± I corrected her with a raised finger. ¡°For self-interest, I might add.¡±


    ¡°But you trained Peter first. You gave him power. And before you say, ¡®Peter already had power.¡¯ You also gave him courage.¡±


    Having no words, I remained silent. Squinting at her for a few long moments before I closed my slack mouth and pointed an accusing finger at her. ¡°Is¡­ is that what you think I sound like? Bowed up arms and all?¡±


    ¡°Hehehe! No. But it was funny, wasn¡¯t it?¡± She giggled. Then gave me a ¡®gentle¡¯ push that shoved me an entire meter away. ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject!¡±


    ¡°So I gave Peter power, wisdom, and courage. That means I gave him freedom?¡± I asked, somewhat amused. ¡®How nostalgic.¡¯


    ¡°Duh! And he doesn¡¯t care about being judged by freckles anymore.¡±


    ¡°Haha. Freckles.¡± I shook my head.


    ¡°Peter¡¯s free from his fears of being bullied. He¡¯s free of hate. He¡¯s free to trust himself and follow his dreams. You gave him that.¡± She leaned on my shoulder. ¡°You should talk to him again. Like we did before. He¡¯s really broken out of his shell since then.¡±


    ¡°So have you, it seems.¡± I chuckled. Making her shy away immediately. But in all seriousness, I was curious if what she said was true. I¡¯ve only spent time with Peter while training. At any other time, I was following my own endeavors. So it was obvious he¡¯d continue to talk and develop relations with the rest of the party with me gone. ¡°You¡¯re right though.¡± I eventually nodded. ¡°I think I will.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± She hummed. Then pulled away to face the brush and assume a stance just before an overgrown ostrich stumbled onto the path with an ear-splitting shriek.


    She leaped before it could even finish, closing the distance in a blur to latch onto its neck like an overgrown tick. In turn forcing a comical croaking sound to pierce the still morning air before it staggered and eventually fell, unmoving on the cold ground. ¡°Sorry.¡± Zakira came up gasping a few seconds later and wiped the blood from her chin. ¡°I was hungry.¡±


    ¡°No worries,¡± I said, storing the corpse in my shadow. "It makes the butchering easier."


    From there, we aimlessly wandered a few ways behind and to the side of the others, encountering several more or less normal creatures along the way. Among them were a big cat, a family of rather large bears, and a muscled, featherless bird that truly qualified as a raptor. Easy prey for the likes of the two of us and certainly enough to placate Slate''s competitive personality. Case in point, he approached beaming dumbly the moment we convened for lunch.


    ¡°How goes the challenge?¡±


    ¡°I got this.¡± I pulled Papa Bear''s corpse from my shadow and held it suspended in the air for a moment before storing it away again.


    ¡°Hah!¡± Slate threw his arms toward the nearly severed rhino behind him. ¡°I win!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but can you eat that?¡± Peter asked, grimacing.


    ¡°Of course!¡± Slate nodded.


    Rolling my eyes, I parted from the party to eat and smoke in silence until lunch ended, wherein we elected to roam and do some hunting as a group. Taking turns to dispatch the many beasts that came our way. Els and Peter didn¡¯t need words to store their gains away and hand off whatever they couldn¡¯t fit in their satchels to me, who wound up making separate pocket dimensions for the lot of them.


    That aside, our hunting also gave me a chance to gauge their abilities in a real environment. And, gladly, they were a lot more reliable than I gave them credit for.

 125 - Three Sorcerers

    Surprisingly, there were no duels scheduled during our second week. For whatever reason, the class seemed to wordlessly agree to lounge and relax in the common areas of the Bodhi Tree. The gyms were packed, the cafeteria was filled with idle chatter, and at any moment throughout the day, cliques and individuals could be seen wandering to and fro the many points of interest within the roots.


    Including me.


    Free of the presence of my teammates, I elected to spend the day doing my rounds to see how my friends have been faring. Luckily, I managed to spot a few of them entering for breakfast and corralled them to a vacant table in a hidden corner.


    \¡°Someone¡¯s been hogging all the attention,¡± Roheisa smirked at me before leaning into her console. ¡°I hear you¡¯re forming a guild?¡± She teased.


    ¡°The best guild in all the realms.¡± I laughed.


    ¡°So I¡¯ve heard.¡± She giggled in an uncomfortably serious manner. ¡°You¡¯ve captured the attention of many of my peers. Ash, Zohnos, and Zarzok in particular. The arrogant types. Well.¡± She turned away with a curious smile. ¡°Most of them.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± I nodded, then turned to face Jaimess and the others. ¡°How are they? Your party members?¡±


    ¡°Eh.¡± Toril shrugged, muttering into his ale. ¡°Zarzok¡¯s annoying. Phelaia doesn¡¯t say much. Then there''s Amethyst and Lucia.¡±


    ¡°Mine are a bunch of weirdos.¡± Jaimess snorted dryly. ¡°But they¡¯re good people. Most of them anyway. They¡¯re all the strong, overbearing types so I generally try to keep my distance. But.¡± He leaned across the table, a cunning grin spread across his face. ¡°I was approached by Lance. He wanted me to introduce him to you.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Roheisa asked, sending flakes of eggs and burnt ends flying all over the table. ¡°What¡¯d you say?¡±


    ¡°I told him to introduce himself.¡± Jaimess laughed. Then looked at me. ¡°Are you going to meet him?¡±


    ¡°I might.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m a lot more interested in Zeke though.¡±


    ¡°Silva?¡± Jaimess raised a brow. ¡°He¡¯s the weirdest of them all. He¡¯s like a statue. Or just dense. He doesn¡¯t talk to anyone. Just stands there and smiles most of the time. But.¡± He leaned in with a devious grin. ¡°He has a silent feud with one of the Epethian Dukes. They not only share the same name but the same initials as well. The kid¡¯s name is Zeke Smeal. And both are so proud that they hate the other for no other reason. What¡¯s funnier is that they¡¯re on the same team. Along with Lance, one of the Lizalfolk, and a kobold.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to know.¡± I scratched my grinning chin. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Over the next few hours, our small talk went on to cover a variety of things. From Classes to studies to new spells. Eventually, we were joined by Ed and Lucia and continued until we went our separate ways just before 8 am.


    Well, they did. I remained at the table and smoked for a bit before wandering aimlessly around campus. My mind was lost in empty thought until a warm hand came to jostle my shoulder. Gently stirring me from my daydreams. Turning about, I saw the objects of my earlier conversation. A tall, lanky boy with somewhat elvish features- minus the pointed ears. And behind him, the giant himself.


    ¡°Good morning, Amun.¡± Zeke boomed in a beast-like- almost purring voice. He was, for lack of a better description, a giant. So tall and stacked with muscle that he made Emperor Deapou and Grandpa Lich look closer to my size. And everything, from his dress to his hair, reminded me of a Roman emperor. Lightly tanned skin and black curly hair tied into a single braid that trailed down his back like a tail. And a head that somehow never bent itself toward the ground. Even while he lowered himself a few degrees to punctuate his greeting. ¡°May we talk?¡± He rose to his full height and gestured between the three of us.


    ¡°Zeke. Lance.¡± I nodded to them both. Then gestured down the hall. ¡°Lead the way.¡±


    ¡°It is us who disturbed your peace.¡± Zeke shook his head. ¡°You choose the destination.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± I turned with a shrug. Then wordlessly led them to the courtyard I and the other Maruleans passed through upon our arrival. It was a wide, pentagonal alcove walled on three sides by the towering roots that served as the interior. Leaving the doors to the hub and the road trailing to the Bifrost as the only other borders to the miniature nature reserve installed within.


    After leading them to an ambiguous spot, I sat in the shade of a tree and pulled out a cigarette. Then, I waited. Watched Lance sit on a sun-soaked bench while Zeke stood idly between us. I¡¯d nearly made it through my smoke before someone- Lance broke the silence. ¡°It¡¯s so quiet here.¡± He sighed, looking up to the sun.


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    My eye twitched in confusion, but I sat and waited for him to continue nonetheless. As did Zeke, a placid smile on his face, just as Jaimess said. Lance, however, was clearly troubled about something; or at the very least, was concentrating on choosing the right words. He kept squinting, flickering his radiant-yellow eyes back in forth while his lips silently twitched and muttered. Only for him to ruffle his white-blonde hair and start the process over again.


    And again.


    And again, until he eventually looked at me with some sort of resolve or conviction or courage that I couldn¡¯t quite place.


    ¡°My name is Lancelot Morningstar, of the Lux Families.¡± He stared his star-like eyes into the pockets of darkness that were mine. ¡°Heir to the Polaris Empire.¡±


    ¡°I am Amun.¡± I nodded politely, half-preparing to explain my lack of a surname. Yet he only nodded in acknowledgment of my words. ¡°Heir to the Odissian Empire.¡±


    ¡°Zeke Silva.¡± The beastly man growled next. ¡°A member of the Silva Clan. But we have no heirs. Only Candidates.¡±


    ¡®Interesting.¡¯ I nodded. Then turned back to see Lance squinting and muttering to himself again. So I went first. ¡°It seems we have more in common than mere Classes or opposing affinities,¡± I said, shifting my gaze between them. ¡°What was it like, growing up as a sorcerous child and an heir; or candidate, of an empire?¡±


    ¡°It was¡­ hard.¡± Lance squinted while saying the last word as if it were more a question than an answer. ¡°It was only books. Lessons. Drills. Expectations to live up to and demands of what I should be. The next great Magus of Polaris.¡±


    ¡°That must have been hard.¡± I tried to sympathize. But he wrenched his face at me as if I¡¯d just spoken to him in Goblinese or something. ¡°What was it like for you?¡± He shook his head.


    ¡°I was given lessons too.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Mostly in history and how to use my sorcery. But I¡¯ve always been free to more or less learn and do what I want. Even as a child, I was encouraged to find my own path in life.¡±


    ¡°Your guild?¡± Zeke guessed. ¡°I¡¯ve heard about your wish to explore the realms.¡±


    ¡°That is what I¡¯ve decided I would do with my life.¡± I nodded, not removing my eyes from Lance. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I envy you, Amun.¡± Lance deflatedly sighed. ¡°Yet, I can¡¯t understand why you want your guild to operate in Maru. Why?¡± She shook his head again. ¡°Most, if not all guilds explore and eventually settle in Nonus, if not Betrarth. If their affinities allow them to, some go past the Steam Line or find a way up the White Wall. But, why Maru?¡±


    ¡°Because I was born there,¡± I replied simply. ¡°And because Maru is under tension. The Nonusian-Marulean portal may be sealed off on this side, but I can¡¯t believe the same is true for the other realms. If so, hordes of hostile entities from all realms other than Youtera have been occupying an entire continent for centuries. Legions of them.¡± I chuckled dryly. ¡°Held back by a single barrier.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ you¡¯ll go past the barrier and just¡­ kill them all?¡± Lance slowly asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ll kill whoever attempts to kill me or those I care about.¡± I nodded. ¡°But I''ll conquer it, yeah.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°You truly are lucky!¡± Lance cackled in a sudden show of emotion. ¡°You¡¯ve been blessed with the right to forge your own destiny. You are unbounded in the sky whereas I, like all stars, remain trapped in an eternal waltz across the sky.¡±


    ¡°But you don¡¯t want to dance?¡± I guessed. ¡°You want to walk away from it all and form your own path, is that right?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I want to do.¡± He shook his head with a deep sigh.


    ¡°Well.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I feel as if I¡¯m in no position to tell you what you should or should not do. I can only tell you what I¡¯d do if I were in your position.¡±


    ¡°And what is that?¡± He looked up with brimming eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯d learn from the past and prepare for the future but focus on living in the moment. I¡¯d concentrate on learning about myself and the people around me. I¡¯d try everything available to me at this wonderful place.¡± I gestured around us. ¡°In time, I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll find inspiration. We have at least three years left, after all.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He slowly nodded as my words clearly took hold. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded in turn while shifting my gaze to Zeke. ¡°And what about you? What are you, exactly?¡±


    ¡°What am I?¡± He furrowed his brows, yet beamed wide.


    I, however, stayed silent and tuned my eyes to his spiritual body once again. Only to see the same flickering visage of his real body obscuring the contents of his spirit.


    Almost as if he were hiding something.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded. ¡°What are your goals? And, you know, they say I¡¯m from a family of devils. Lance is from a family of angels. And you, presumably, are from a clan of beast-men?¡±


    ¡°Bahaha! We have beastly qualities, sure!¡± He boisterously laughed. ¡°But we Silvanians are no more beastly than the Nox or the Lux.¡±


    ¡°Nox?¡± I asked. Causing them both to turn to me with wrenched faces and wrinkled brows.


    ¡°That is you.¡± Zeke shook his head this time. ¡°Do you not know your family history?¡±


    ¡°A very small part of it.¡± I nodded. ¡°Learning it isn''t as simple as reading books or hearing stories.¡±


    ¡°In that case, it is not my place to tell you.¡± Zeke bared his palms in good faith. Then raised a single, massive finger. ¡°However! I¡¯m certain that I can tell you that we.¡± He gestured between the three of us. ¡°Come from the original Sorcerers of this universe, although my ancestor was not as prominent as yours. And yours are far older than mine. With yours is the eldest of all.¡± He gestured to me. ¡°Your other question is why I am here.¡± He continued. ¡°My Clan is dedicated to truth-seeking- history. Namely in its recording. That responsibility is passed from leader to leader. And rather than deciding by votes or conclaves, the position is given to whoever obtains the Prestige Class of our ancestor.¡±


    ¡°And I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ll tell us what that Class is?¡± I inquisitively grinned.


    ¡°If and when I obtain it, yes.¡± He grinned. ¡°And whether I do or do not, I will undoubtedly assist you in reclaiming Ulai. For so long, it has been the dream of our Amazonian refugees to return to their homeland. I am sure you will be the one to show them the way.¡±

 126 - The Word

    The Nox.


    My conversation with Lance and Zeke left questions lingering in my head throughout the night and the following day. Even with a distracted mind, however, I was able to make the most out of Doyle¡¯s class and train almost without pause. Due in no small part to the party¡¯s strong grasp on the beginner and intermediate levels of mana molding, netting an abundance of points for every individual. Weary and curious, I went straight to my room after class to take note of the small grow room next to my office while I replayed the talk from yesterday in my mind.


    Lance was awkward for sure. He was also indecisive and self-conscious with quite low self-esteem as well. All that made it difficult to see whether his allegiances were truly aligned with his Empire. After all, it was exceedingly difficult to pry information out of someone who couldn¡¯t articulate their words. Not without having the ability to read their mind at least. Regardless, he seemed strong and level-headed enough to keep within arms reach. If only to keep an eye on him. But I didn¡¯t deny the possibility of him becoming a healthy rival or a deadly enemy in the future.


    After all, I did intend to do some dastardly things in the coming years.


    And then there was Zeke. I had a strong assumption as to what he truly was, but I didn¡¯t want to speak or act on it without concrete proof. That aside, it was obvious that he was more knowledgeable about the old world than me or possibly even Lance. Not just about the runes that were mentioned in their rumors, but about the origins of our sorcery.


    In the end, I was forced to compile my questions and assumptions in the back of my second mind and recall them whenever I got the chance to commune again and sat atop my pillow for some sleep.


    ---


    ¡°I hope you enjoyed your lunch! Welcome back!¡± Zeff clapped after we¡¯d gathered around him. Then spread his arms in a gesture to the similar, yet smaller version of Doyle¡¯s training annex. Complete with the walled booths lining the perimeter. ¡°With our lectures on the subjects complete, we¡¯ll begin our first practical exercises in Casting and Spell Development!¡±


    ¡°Now!¡± He clapped and scattered us to the annexes with a wave of his hands. ¡°Since the lot of you are already adept with Hand Casting, we¡¯ll start with the most challenging way of all. Mental Casting. The task is to cast ten spells with the mind alone. Refer to your notes if need be. And, begin!¡±


    Before starting, I waited a moment to look around and see how the others were faring, and unsurprisingly, many of them were struggling to form a simple bullet spell. Winston was able to more or less do it if he concentrated and Zakira could do it with only small signs of straining. But the only one who could cast as easily as I was Urshure. The rest were simply standing in place, comically groaning to themselves and making strained faces.


    ¡°Very good!¡± Zeff clapped to gather our attention sometime later. ¡°Now that you¡¯re aware of how difficult the practice is, many of you can put this as a goal to move towards. Our next practice will be Visual Casting. Whether you need to create a spell or have one developed. The task is the same. Ten spells, cast with the eyes. Begin!¡±


    Again, I looked around to study before practicing for myself. And, as suspected, many of the non-human students were unable to do anything more than enhance their visual acuity with mana. The ones that could, seemed to produce either an environmental effect that encompassed their field of view or focus an effect on a single target. As was the case with Samson producing a dense fog in front of him while Winston formed a skintight barrier around the front of a wooden dummy.


    Turning to my target seemed to catch me in the dilemma that¡¯d been plaguing me since awakening my cores. I hesitated; if only to choose which core to draw my mana through and channel it into my eyes. In the end, I closed my eyes and chose to pool a small amount of Spatial mana in them before they opened, ejecting a web of crystal-white lines to slice through the dummy, walls, and jungle in my cone of vision. The offset branches and displaced stone remaining when the lines dispersed collapsed under their own weight immediately, sending a cascading rain of flora and dust to seep over me and add to the symphony of destruction playing around me.


    ¡®Oh, fuck yeah!¡¯ I laughed in awe at the exotic aftermath. But, as per Zeff¡¯s instructions, I went on to repeat the spell nine more times and gave it a name to seal it in my grimoire.


    [Spatial Spell Crafted - Shattered Realm.]


    ¡°Excellent work!¡± Zeff corralled us with short applause, ripping me away from my grimoire for the time being. ¡°Next is a simple, but often unused form of casting, one which involves the legs. Now.¡± He shooed us away with his hands. ¡°Off you go. And then we¡¯ll continue with the interesting ones!¡±


    This time, I approached my annex without looking back, as I had a strong idea as to what spell I wanted to try for this exercise. So, without pause and with hands in my pockets, I stopped before my dummy with my leg raised high. Then slammed my gravity-infused heel into the ground to send out a gravitational wave that thumped the rocks, dirt, leaves, and anything else unattached to the ground into the air, where they tumbled and spun as they fell slowly to the ground.


    In other words.


    [Gravitation Spell Created - Moon Quake.]


    ¡°Alright then! Gather round!¡± Zeff clapped. ¡°The next type of casting is available only to those possessing multiple affinity cores or magical abilities. When cast in conjunction, they are Combination Spells. Its counterpart is much the same; only, those affinities must be compatible with each other in order to be made into a Fusion Spell- the final and most complex type of spell casting, but not the final one we¡¯ll be practicing for today.


    ¡°For those of you that are able, spend the next several minutes practicing Dual Casting or developing a Fusion Spell while the rest of you keep practicing what we¡¯ve learned thus far.¡± He sent us off with a wave. Then sat down with an eager eye to see what we came up with.


    As did I. Although I didn¡¯t sit down. I just stood in place and fought back the nearly irresistible urge to use all my False Life to facepalm myself.


    ¡®I¡¯m fucking stupid.¡¯


    I snorted in embarrassed despair as I turned to see brown and infernal blue mana congealing in Peter¡¯s throat before he leaned forward to mimic Urshure¡¯s roaring pose to spit out a cone of blistering lava.


    ¡®I¡¯m so fucking dumb.¡¯ I snorted again. And watched Peter send out a bullet of air and fire mana to make a combustive spell that obliterated the dummy and much of the area around it.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡®I¡¯m a fucking idiot.¡¯ I sneered to myself and turned to grab the nearest thing I could see- a stick, and pulled twin streams of arcana from my Well. With a bit of focus, I led one through and out of my shadow core and sent the other through the space-time core. Then, I sent it into the stick and tossed it before activating the spell. And in a puff of umbral smoke, the stick vanished and came clattering to the ground a few meters away. Fully intact.


    ¡®Oh, hell yeah!¡¯ I laughed maniacally. But just to be sure, I tried it again on an apple pulled from my storage. And like before, It came rolling to a halt a few meters away. Fully intact.


    And the [Bamf] was born.


    Rather than play around with dual casting, I Bamfed around for a long while before blending my magics with my spatial dimensions to allow me to withdraw anything from either storage dimension from either a cloud of smoke or a wave of low voltage electricity.


    ¡°Excellent displays everyone! Excellent displays!¡± Came Zeff¡¯s round of applause and comically excited bounces. ¡°Now, we¡¯ll end the day with the most taxing way of casting there is. That¡¯d be Curse Spells. I¡¯ll only ask that you make one. But you have to do at least that or face a deduction in points. So, get to it!¡± He clapped and took his seat once again.


    ¡®Curse spells, huh?¡¯ I slowed on my way to my annex.


    As I understood it, which was probably wrong, casting a spell in spoken word imbued it into the minds of all who heard it, intensifying the overall effect. The voice simply summoned the thing in the mind of the collective, adding to the foundation I imagined and constructed with my words. Thus I had little control over the result. I supposed it would be good to use in a pinch when one''s hands were bound. But I didn¡¯t exactly like the idea of using such wild spells. But then there was the art of necromancy to consider. Specifically, raising the dead. If curse spells were truly the way to raise them, then my hypothesis was utterly wrong. On top of that, there was that old question. The one about trees falling in the woods. If the effect was dependent on the collective, then the absence of the collective would make for a weak curse spell.


    Knowing all I could do was test and test and test some more, I looked up to the sky and imbued my voice with EM magic before shouting. ¡°I summon the chaotic, stubborn, and unruly god of storms, Susanoo!¡±


    I felt more than ridiculous saying it, but regardless, a massive lightning bolt arced through the sky and fell right on top of me, siphoning the majority of the arcana from my Well and sending it up to the sky in an instant. The chest-pounding thunder it created was soon followed by a cascade of others that then began heating the air above. And within seconds, the pressure dropped, sending a chilled wave of silence across the students. The winds began picking up within seconds, eventually rising to speeds high enough to bend and coil the trees around us like spinning tops running out of momentum. Streaks of lightning began to pierce the sky, illuminating toiling storm clouds that expanded at an unnatural rate to block out the sun in its entirety. And above the howling of the wild God, I could hear Zeff scurrying up to my ear.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of such a deity before,¡± he said, his eyes trained up to the livid sky. ¡°Susanoo, was it? You think you have enough power to summon a God?¡±


    ¡°I already have,¡± I stated simply, not averting my gaze. ¡°Don¡¯t you see it? The storm itself is Susanoo. A Storm of Storms.¡±


    ¡°And what pantheon is that from?¡± Zeff asked with a hint of amazement.


    ¡°An ancient one called Shinto,¡± I said. ¡°The Gods; or Kami, are present in all things. They are the living and the dead, the ground beneath us; the seas around us and skies above; the sun and stars beyond; plagues and earthquakes, even living beings or spirits.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Zeff nodded. ¡°I think I understand. But¡­¡± He looked back up to the roiling storm. ¡°What happens now that you¡¯ve summoned¡­ Susanoo?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I did this on a whim. Didn¡¯t think it¡¯d actually work. I guess¡­ I guess I¡¯ll try something else.¡±


    Redirection, Circulation, Dormancy. These techniques all fascinated me. Mostly because, after my tenure in the library, I learned there was more to the picture than Zeff let on. Indeed, those skills were the first stepping stone to the monastic path I pursued. Indeed, those skills were meant to be combined into a unified system. And so, with that in mind, I focused to imagine what I wanted to accomplish. The word I chose would already do most of the work, I was sure. But I wanted to double down on functionality to ensure I wasn¡¯t discharging energy wherever I went. So I focused and again thought about the specific outcome of my spell before imbuing my voice with EM mana and shouting. ¡°Charge!¡±


    Instantly, a column of lightning rained down on my head. Though I felt the concussive force, it was more like a gentle push followed by a tickle as the energy cascaded into me. From within the bolt, I could see nothing but white; could hear nothing but the crash of energy against stone; could feel nothing but a distant heat and the cool feeling of air touching my skin through the burning and restitching patches of clothes.


    After the lightning dissipated and the storm clouds cleared, I looked down to see a crater of simmering rock that constantly melted my reforming shoes. Though I couldn¡¯t exactly act on removing them, as my thoughts were entirely consumed by the energy coursing through my body.


    The image I pictured was two circuits within my body. The first was a loop that ran just outside my mana well, completely isolated from the organ itself while the second spread through my body like a ghostly nervous system. And like a battery and circuit, they were linked via a switch. Enabling me to fill my body with this abundant energy at a moment¡¯s notice- which felt like electricity reinforcement on steroids.


    With a deep breath, I drew the energy into the inner circuit and closed it off, feeling the faint prickly sensation slip away only a few seconds later.


    ¡°Well done,¡± Zeff said after snapping back to his wits. ¡°One hundred points to you. And¡­ see me after class.¡±


    I squinted in confusion but he walked off before I could inquire further. As party leader, it was somewhat customary to speak with the teachers after dismissal, but there was something off about him just now. Regardless, I couldn¡¯t ponder on it as the party was approaching me to either be dismissed or accompany me to train. And after belaying the necessary information, I turned from the crowd to approach Zeff, still sitting under his tree.


    ¡°How are you enjoying life at the Bodhi Tree?¡± Zeff asked cordially.


    ¡°The people are interesting and the lessons are great. But, I can¡¯t help but feel frustrated.¡±


    ¡°And why is that?¡± He turned with an excited smile.


    ¡°I struggle to fully exert my power here,¡± I said. ¡°The training dummies are weak and I¡¯m hardly allowed to use my Doppelganger in class. Besides that, I lack both the privacy and freedom needed to develop my magic or test anything. Unless, of course, I wish to spend points.¡±


    ¡°You have more than enough to pay your way in.¡± Zeff shook his head. ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡±


    ¡°The very idea is the problem.¡± I spat. ¡°Keeping potentially dangerous knowledge from others, I understand. Making knowledge accessible only to those in these halls, I even agree with. But locking knowledge behind paywalls to students already in attendance is... uncouth, in my opinion.¡±


    ¡°That is to prevent students like you from learning everything at once and skipping classes.¡± Zeff chuckled deflatedly.


    ¡°The Bodhi Tree¡¯s inability to prevent students from skipping class without promoting greed is faulted by either the staff, the headmaster, or both.¡± I bluntly retorted. ¡°Besides, if a student wants to skip out on class, they should have the freedom to do so. It would only be their loss, after all. But therein would be a lesson for them to learn all the same.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Zeff chuckled as a wave of conflicting emotions passed across his face. ¡°Out of curiosity, what are you most interested in? I¡¯m well-versed in many subjects.¡±


    ¡°Dragons.¡± I bluntly said, frankly growing impatient with the small talk. ¡°Specifically about where the closest one lives and how old it is.¡±


    ¡°I know they are fearsome creatures that you¡¯re better off staying away from.¡± He huffed. ¡°No matter how strong you are, stay away! That said, there is a venerable red dragon sleeping under the mountain border to the north. And also, there are rumors of a dragon that lives beneath Lake Mirror- where the portal to Maru is sealed. If you want to know more, I¡¯d consult Olga.¡±


    Interesting. ¡°Very well.¡± I nodded. Then looked around at the empty field before turning my gaze to his. ¡°Anything else?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He slowly nodded. ¡°What do you intend to do after finding one?¡±


    ¡°Trade secret.¡± I grinned. ¡°Now, is there anything you wanted to tell me?¡±


    ¡®Uh. N- no. You may go.¡±

 127 - Renaissance

    Well, that was weird. Not weird enough to distract me or to make me ponder on it for long, however. But enough to keep it at the edge of my consciousness while I went to train and eat dinner with most of the party. Upon returning to my room, I took the saplings from within and promptly left. Choosing to relocate to the section of the courtyard frequented by Urshure to smoke and run my experiment in peace.


    I ¡®sat¡¯ cross-legged in the air with the plants orbiting around me and grabbed one at random for a quick inspection before I began casting. A pot as wide as a dinner plate housed the sapling, which stood about knee-high. With many cloud-like branches of black needles clumped together in masses that loosely resembled snowflakes, it partially resembled my envisioned product, making me optimistic for the coming experiment.


    After capturing the image in my Eye, I drew the Chrono Dial around my wrist and formed a small domain around the sapling, set the rate to one month per second, and let it run. Then watched closely as the leaves and stalk began writhing and enlarging at a slow and steady rate. My main focus was to see if the plant could survive the process with the soil in the pot alone. My terrestrial assumptions led me to presume that the nutrients would eventually be depleted, causing the sapling to wilt. Though, everything I learned in this world told me that such lines of thinking were wrong. Nevertheless, the sapling soon began wilting after just six or so seconds- which meant that at least part of my hypothesis was correct. It just needed refinement.


    That said, I had no way to test or modify the soil without chemicals or testing other spells. It was at least the same color, and, aside from a surprisingly thin amount of moss for six months of relative time, it seemed unchanged. So I assumed the soil wasn¡¯t the problem. According to my herbarium, it thrived in both bright light and darkness but would morph depending on the environment it spent the majority of its time in, a tree if in bright light or thickets if in darkness. Only then would they produce their umbral radiance. A stage none of my saplings had managed to reach yet. Still, that revelation narrowed the culprit down to mana. Which, in turn, left me with two hypotheses. It was either corrupted by my spell. Or it was starved of raw mana.


    Since I couldn¡¯t experiment without the Chrono Dial, I decided to test the latter and retrieved the next sapling. This time, however, I maintained and controlled the domain with one hand while I captured and poured a stream of ambient mana into the sapling with the other. If everything I¡¯ve learned was correct, the sapling wouldn¡¯t take in more mana than it could handle. So I put that to the test as well and produced far more mana than the sapling would ever need. So much so, that it caused the finger-sized trunk to bend into a bow shape from the concussive mana banging against it. As before, I watched it grow and grow and, after about ten seconds, I stopped to prune a few buds with a tiny Void Knife and wrap some wire around the branches and trunks before cranking up the Dial again to repeat the process. Growing, trimming, pruning, wiring, growing; all while maintaining a potent stream of mana around my subject.


    Several minutes came to pass in such fashion, yet I saw no transformation or metamorphosis take place. The sapling only stopped growing in height, choosing instead to increase its girth to about that of my wrist before it began spitting out an aura of darkness. I was forced to transfer the tree to a larger pot after a few more iterations but continued all the same. And eventually, the trunk ceased to bend from the force of my mana. Yet, I continued to pour larger volumes of mana over its needled leaves as I went through one more iteration. And with that, I felt satisfied enough to kill the Chrono Dial and marvel at my work.


    The small sapling was now a mid-century old tree that stood to my waist when on the ground- the pot itself was equal in height to the top of my boots. A bit too large for my liking, but it was beautiful nevertheless. Its charcoal bark was stripped along the front of the trunk, made to snake like a river as it reached upwards, revealing the chalky grains beneath that gave the entire piece some much-needed contrast. I wired the branches to extend out to the sides like waving arms tipped with cloud-shaped hands splaying tiny- nearly indistinguishable needles out into the air. Such form and the aura of night surrounding it gave me the sense of gazing upon a lone, ancient tree. One that¡¯s been overlooking the sunset since time immemorial. Sort of like my mark. But not quite.


    After wallowing in satisfaction and smoking for a bit, I floated as far as I could to the dorms. Making it to the door until I was faced with the arduous task of carrying a miniature tree and two saplings back to my room.


    ¡®Where¡¯s Zakira when I need her.¡¯ I groaned.


    ---


    Eventually, Slate came to help me. Upon thanking him, I went off to meditate and awoke four hours later to go through the usual routine of shitting, showering, and, thankfully, not shaving. Like most days, I cooked and ate breakfast in my room. Then emerged to lounge and smoke and eventually train with Zakira and the other vampires until the other students started to migrate into the gym. After arriving in Olga¡¯s class, she wasted no time in distributing our seeds or spores and guided us on germinating them. Reiterating again and again that we focus on keeping our plants alive for now.


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    For me, that was a sealed petri dish and an open invitation to her lab in the far corner of her room- a room full of cultures sealed in Petri dishes and an abundance of other lab equipment and ¡®food¡¯ for various types of fungi. 1As was commonly done on Earth, my Cloudhead Mushroom started in the form of culture sealed inside the container and needed to be touched only with sterilized materials. For this, Olga had me stop at the antechamber leading into her lab and told me to put on my mana veil before entering. I¡¯d long been in the habit of wearing it whenever possible, so I entered without delay and immediately backpedaled in the face of a bright, violet light flooding my eyes. Only to disappear in the next instant.


    Looking at her in shock, she simply smiled and apologetically explained the functions of the ¡®cleansing ray¡¯ before walking off. While crude and abrupt, it was a clear indication that none of the ¡®unified¡¯ societies had any grasp of any type of radiation outside of visible light. Ironic as that was.


    After shrugging aside my surprise, I racked my Eternal Eye and the books Olga gave me to make a mental road map for my task. The first step was in transferring the culture. For this, I filled a jar with sterilized grains and added a relatively small piece of the culture from the petri dish. Sadly, that was all I could do at the moment, as it would take time for the mycelium to spread across the grain and colonize the jar. Once that was done it would be transferred to a substrate and be allowed to colonize that before being introduced to the main substrate- a log or compacted sawdust. That, however, was long down the road. So I left the grow room and returned to my squad to take note of the plants my teammates were growing before I spent what was left of class wandering the garden.


    With that, the schedule resumed until the following day, when Doyle pulled me aside after class with an amiable smile.


    ¡°I must say, I don¡¯t know which is more impressive. Your magic, your fighting skills, or your mastery over the elements.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I bowed in an obligatory fashion. Though it was more than clear he was trying to pry. ¡°If I had the choice, I¡¯d rather use magic,¡± I said. ¡°But I¡¯ve made it a habit to first engage in martial combat to preserve my mana and gauge my opponent''s abilities.¡±


    ¡°A wise tactic. Stamina can be regained whilst casting and the same could be said in reverse.¡± Doyle stepped in to give me a friendly nudge. ¡°You¡¯d make an outstanding Battle Mage. Ow!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to be a Monk and an Artificer.¡± I smiled at him, rubbing his elbow from the small shock of Leech Hands activation. ¡°Beyond that, I¡¯d only consider a Class that compliments my natural abilities. Or maybe something that¡¯ll get me in tune with dragons.¡±


    ¡°Dragons?¡± Doyle blinked rapidly. ¡°Why in the Hells would you want to get closer to dragons?¡±


    ¡°For information. Why else?¡± I contemptuously laughed. ¡°Dragons are said to be the oldest and wisest creatures in existence.¡±


    ¡°So.¡± Doyle drolled on, still blinking madly. ¡°You want to talk. To¡­ a dragon? Why?¡±


    ¡°Ugh.¡± I groaned. ¡°How far back does our knowledge of history go?¡±


    ¡°Almost sixteen centuries.¡± Doyle retorted immediately.


    ¡°And what unwritten events happened during that time? What happened before?¡± I asked. ¡°A thousand years of war and a few centuries of peace seems like an awfully short story, doesn¡¯t it?¡± While I could tell he was deeply considering my words, I couldn¡¯t tell if he considered what I was saying a good or bad thing. His poker face was just that good. Even as he distantly looked away as if he were in a trance.


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I know for sure.¡± He finally turned back to me with a grunt. ¡°Maybe you should make it your mission to find out. Or have this conversation with Zeff. He¡¯s much more of a¡­ thinker.¡±


    ¡°I already have made it my mission.¡± I bluntly stated, having long grown tired of the small talk. ¡°Now, why did you pull me aside?¡±


    I could see hints of... something, flash in his eyes, yet he turned it away with a deflated sigh and locked his eyes on some ambiguous point in the distance. ¡°I wanted to see if you¡¯re the one who taught your party how to control the elements with such ease.¡±


    ¡°And if I was?¡± I blankly asked.


    To which he bowed at the neck. ¡°Then I would ask you to share that knowledge.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but laugh aloud at the irony. ¡°If I had a unique method for elemental manipulation, why would I share it for free?¡± I laughed. ¡°Ethics aside, what would you be willing to give to receive it?¡±


    ¡°I suppose you would have a point, in that case.¡± Doyle straightened his posture with a sigh. ¡°Thank you for your time.¡± He turned back to me with a nod. ¡°Have the class gathered in Zeff¡¯s classroom in the morning. You¡¯re dismissed.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± I nodded. Then turned for the door without an ounce of amiability. Internally, however, my eyes were rolling like bowling balls in their sockets. More so, I couldn¡¯t help but sigh in frustration.


    Honestly, I had no idea what he was thinking. If he actually believed I¡¯d just give him my secrets then I gave him far more credit than he deserved. That said, if the conversation went differently- if he showed his true capacity for greed, I would¡¯ve had no qualms about making a deal with Doyle Wolfgang. Or any of the Bodhi Tree¡¯s staff, for that matter.


    Even the Headmaster.

 128 - Rose Tint

    Aside from Doyle and Zeff¡¯s pathetic attempts to pry, I found my time at the Bodhi Tree passing without issue or good fortune. We trained, drilled, and sparred against the dummies or sometimes each other in Doyle¡¯s class. The most notable of them was the sky battle I had with Urshure, who ended up being the first opponent since Grandpa Lich or perhaps Sergeant Velasco that I had to work to defeat. Through our exercises in Zeff¡¯s classes, it was easy to see the rapid progression of the party¡¯s hold over mana and the elements. Consequently serving to intensify Zeff and Doyle¡¯s inquires about my tomes, frustratingly so. Still, I was able to make the most of the lessons and filled out page after page of spells in my grimoire.


    Olga¡¯s class, on the other hand, was no different than before. Yet it was the only class that brought about any sense of change with each passing day. Every time I entered the classroom, I found myself excited to see how my mycelium was doing. After four weeks, the fungus had colonized the entire bed of grain and from that, I was able to use it as a sort of seed to colonize batches of the growing medium. Not only that, but my bonsai were thriving in my room as well. Not to mention, the entire party managed to procure a veritable bounty of provisions over the course of the last five weeks. I hunted, foraged, or collected anything that caught my interest and fought all manner of beasts in the process. But none with any magical capabilities, as Peter was still reluctant to move deeper into the wilds.


    Surprisingly, we saw few- if any duels take place during that time. Not that I cared enough to spectate them in the first place. As my off time was split between training Peter, talking to my friends once every blue moon, and developing an impressive collection of augmented reality apps in my Eternal Eye- which turned out to be quite the addicting process.


    I already had three before. ¡®Sic Script,¡¯ for the Classes and their paths. ¡®Legions,¡¯ for the guild that had yet to be. And ¡®BluLine,¡¯ for conceptual enchantments. On top of that, I designed a program to classify, rank, and organize my undead before I copied and merged the ¡®Legions¡¯ program with it and toiled for days to figure out why, when, and how an undead minion would be promoted and what that would entail. With that done, I made a new app to list the professionals or individuals I needed in my undying employ, ''GetHelp.'' The first on the list was the bard and artificer for necrotic and nefarious ends. But on top of that, I needed to kill and raise a few prominent doctors or witches to have the surgeon generals I aimed for. And so too did I need a head chef, chief laborer, and a general crafter. Among other things.


    With that done, I was able to finalize the ¡®Shade Palace.¡¯ Both an app that covered the undead and a physical place to be. The latter was designed as a mix between a university and a boot camp for undead of all types. With their longevity, they¡¯d devote as much time as necessary to develop the skills they didn¡¯t have in life. And upon graduating, they¡¯d be assigned to a unit to provide them with skilled labor. Taking the burden of cooking, fortifying, and repairing infrastructure or equipment off of the legionaries and their allies.


    The completion of the Shade Palace app served as the start of my miniature obsession with my Eternal Eye. Any time I found myself free of any tasks, I looked back on my relatively short second life to find any instances that could¡¯ve been facilitated by the usage of an app. ¡®What 2 Do¡¯ was the start of that endeavor. Wherein I added my goals and aspirations to my friends'' and followers¡¯ dreams, then categorized them based on location before I rearranged them by priority. Naturally, that moved me to design ¡®SpellHell¡¯ shortly after. A visual aid meant to facilitate the design of a spell from any affinity imaginable. ¡®Terranaut¡¯ came shortly after, which was an evolution of the system I used to carve out Hill Base. Only, it was refitted to facilitate the design of large-scale infrastructure and contained features that encompassed everything from furnishings and landscaping to wildlife sustainment and terraforming.


    The next pair came a few days later. When Els off-handedly asked me how much stuff I had stored away in my Shadow Pocket. After giving him a vague answer, I took a quick measurement of my Pocket with the surrounding darkness, made some calculations, and designed the ¡®Peek Pocket¡¯ to give me a quick, but accurate readout of everything I¡¯ve hoarded over the last decade or so. Instead of lumping everything in the same app though, I took my clothes, weapons, and equipment off the list and added it to another app, ¡®Re: Armed.¡¯ But still, the app was laughably empty. So I made some modifications to have it list the weapons and tools I wished to make in the future and made a sub-program to conceptualize them down to the atomic scale.


    Eventually, after much contemplation, that app was copied thrice, refit, and renamed accordingly. The first was ¡®Re: Moved,¡¯ and was dedicated to the three vehicles currently in my possession and the others I intended to make in the future. Be they scientific or magical in origin. The second was ¡®Re: Tamed,¡¯ which served the Menagerie and any other creatures that may join me in the future. Not to conceptualize their capture and containment but to design an environment in which they could freely explore and thrive instead of remaining trapped in my umbral world for years upon years. The last of them was titled ¡®Lapland,¡¯ and served as a way to design and render the magical technology I wanted to introduce to the world. And once done, I spent days upon days designing everything from flying cars, space habitats, and spaceships to robots, molecular manufacturing, and nano implants.


    For better or for worse, I could only come up with an idea for one other app after that. It was to transfer all the media I¡¯d watched, listened to, or read from my Eternal Eye and place them into an app called ¡®RadWorld.¡¯


    With my studies and a slew of new toys to play with, the weeks started passing in a blur. Even then, however, I managed to keep a close eye on the progression of my party and made sure to fill out their character cards whenever I had the chance.


    As Zakira said, Peter had gone through a big change. Though I still had yet to speak with him as she suggested, I could take a glance and see that Peter was no longer the scrawny, nervous kid I met shortly after our arrival. His head was held high wherever he went- not with pride, but confidence. He spoke louder and articulated his words when speaking to others, and no longer diverted his eyes from whom he was speaking to. Especially me, who he seemed to hold to a much higher degree of respect than anyone else. More so, Peter was no longer the ticking time bomb he was before. Now, Winston was all but invisible to Peter, while Winston was but a shell of his former self. He hardly talked to anyone. He just stayed in the pocket, focused on his lessons, applied himself dutifully, and kept to himself. That made it hard to gauge any changes to his mental state or line of thinking. But I could at least tell that he was lost in deep thought more often than not.


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    Els hadn¡¯t changed much. Either physically or mentally. He had a slightly more refined stature and was a bit more open with us- telling us about his past and whatnot. But he was still a stubborn bastard with a hearted sleeve that he tried desperately to hide beneath a tunic of iron. As for Zakira, she was the most unchanged out of any of us. She looked the same, acted the same, and still followed me around eight times out of ten. But her control over mana has skyrocketed her already absurd strength into the exosphere.


    That was true for the rest of the party as well. Albeit to a much lesser extent. But more importantly, I was able to spend more time with the other teams and more or less learn what made them all tick. Toni was socially awkward but felt at home enough in the wild to make herself known as a surprisingly capable and confident young woman. Having no particular goals, she was in the ¡®try everything once'' phase. And thus was an easy mark to recruit into the Legions. Twig and Duke, however, were a bit more complicated. Wherein both were intrigued by my offer, yet neither wanted to submit under another. Although for different reasons. Twig was reluctant to bond with a group outside her village and Duke was reluctant to give up his unbounded freedoms. Rhody, however, was the easiest mark in team one. He essentially asked to be bribed on multiple occasions. And, of course, I assured him I¡¯d comply in due time. After all, an investment of something as meager as gold and a promise of an estate was a small price to pay for a private assassin and master thief.


    Team three, on the other hand, was much more peculiar. On one end, there was some sort of fucked up love seesaw among the humans. Scarlett sat in one seat as the unspoken leader of the three, and seemed oblivious to the intentions of those trailing behind her; one of them being Rebecca, in the other seat, who by all accounts was Scarlett¡¯s closest friend. It was obvious in their wordless interaction with each other that they had a history of some sort. Samson, however, sat at the fulcrum and trailed behind them like an abandoned puppy wherever they went. He¡¯d jump in front of them with his axes bared whenever they¡¯d encounter something in the wilds. He fought to liven up their conversations or put his two cents in whenever he could. In my eyes, he was a general orbiter who lived for attention from pretty girls. But Scarlett seemed oblivious to it and Rebecca saw it as a form of comedy.


    But even with his faults, Samson had potential. He only had to kill off the brain in his pants to unlock it. Unlike Kaolinite, Slate¡¯s sworn brother.He was far more reserved than the latter but retained the same goals and obsessively competitive nature seen in the other goliaths in our class. And last but not least, there was Urshure. Who, I assumed, had the goal of gaining power from, contacting, or- by some slim chance, gaining an audience with the Multicolored Queen of Dragons. Something that I had a small bit of interest in. The problem was getting the dragonborne to confirm my suspicions before I convinced him to accept my help.


    It came with the risk of betrayal, I was aware of that much. He reeked of ulterior motives as much as I did, after all. But that betrayal came with the reward of an undoubtedly-powerful undead. Regardless, I wanted him on my side. And so too did I want to recruit many individuals from the other parties. So I started the final week of the quarter in my office, making character sheets for the other forty members of Class 999. With that done, I fell into a temporary state of relaxation. I still trained in Doyle and Zeff¡¯s classes, but my time after was spent lounging with Zakira and toying with my apps.


    The next day was a short class period encompassing Olga''s assessment of the plants we grew and divvying out points. A period that spanned a few minutes longer than she claimed it would from her standing slack-jawed at my bonsai. Eventually, however, she gave me 250 points and announced me as the winner of her unspoken competition before we were released. The next days were much the same as the day before. Wherein Doyle and Zeff made vague mentions of the changes we¡¯d be seeing next quarter before releasing us for the day. But as I somewhat expected, Olga¡¯s syllabus was a lot more forthright.


    After a congratulatory introduction, she went on to explain that the quarter would be focused on us procuring and coming to understand raw resources. To do so, her first class of the week would begin with us learning how to process and store the animals and plants we¡¯ve hunted and foraged during our outings. And after lunch, we¡¯d relocate to the Bodhi Tree¡¯s mines to stock up on as many ores as we could. Much the same would continue on our second day of class. Only, a fraction of our mornings would be spent learning how to use and identify ores of magical and non-magical natures.


    ¡°Lastly.¡± Olga clasped her hands before us and gave us a warm, knowing smile. ¡°I want to remind you all that tomorrow is the last outing of the quarter. I won¡¯t spoil the surprise for you though, just make sure you¡¯re prepared. And.¡± She turned at the waist to face me. ¡°Amun, if you¡¯ll give me a moment. The rest of you are dismissed.¡±


    ¡®Oh, no. Olga! You were supposed to be the chosen one! The one without greed or care for my tomes! Don¡¯t tell me you joined them!¡¯ I groaned. But stood from my desk to approach her all the same. But unlike Doyle or Zeff, her smile only widened with each step closer. Until, eventually, she pulled out a tiny slip of paper and said. ¡°The Headmaster requests your audience. Try not to make him wait.¡±


    Feeling ashamed and somewhat embarrassed, I promptly thanked her and followed the small map to the grand archway within the hub. It had me retrace my steps to the dining hall we drank the sap in and pushed me further past a lounge area on the floor above to arrive at a cubic lobby of polished wood and live plants. Placed along the far wall was a single stone door covered in vines and moss that loosely resembled some strange and unfamiliar landscape. My destination.


    With no secretary or assistant to welcome my entry, I approached the door and gave it three quick knocks. Then stepped back in surprise once it split at the seams without delay. Parting like an airlock to reveal a comparatively cramped office.


    The room was shaped like a fat cigar standing on end. But rather than tobacco, it was filled with the largest collection of trophies and trinkets that I¡¯ve ever seen, all arranged neatly in display cases and lined in rows on shelves surrounding a comically small desk made for the Headmaster.


    Everything about it brought a smile to my face- nearly forced laughter from my lips. But once my eyes settled on the headmaster, any hints of amusement, amiability, or approbation faded into first a mute expression, and then into furrowed brows, squinted eyes, and clenched fists.


    ¡°What the fuck is this!?¡±

 129 - Tainted Soul

    ¡°What the fuck is this!?¡±


    ¡°Ah. Here we go again.¡± The Headmaster sighed in a gravelly tone. But even as the door slammed shut behind me- even as I sneered at him- Zorrenor Knagh retained the amiable persona of a professional poker player. His eyes, a mix of reds and greens like autumn leaves, radiated a sense of warmness that out-competed his off-puttingly fiendish inhumanity. His skin, a greenish-brown like moss grown over bark, had been tanned from centuries upon centuries of exposure to the elements, eventually forming the bark-like wrapping that was pulled taut in a pleasurable smile. An open one. One that showed the rows of fanged teeth and relatively short tusks hiding in his mouth, acting like mountains on a coastline that dispersed a stinking mist of mildew and detritus into the vale of his office.


    But his appearance was outside of my mind. Instead, I was focused on the objects wisping or floating above and around his horned head. The largest one and the object of my initial outburst was an incorporeal mass of death and darkness shaped in the form of a slender, horned humanoid. Like a personal rain cloud, it floated above Zorrenor¡¯s body. Swaying with his movements as if to keep Zorrenor¡¯s crown positioned directly below its jagged jaws.


    ¡°Explain.¡± I dropped my eyes down to him.


    ¡°Please.¡± He gestured before his desk. ¡°Sit-¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± He clasped his hands together and focused on me for a second. ¡°I¡¯ve summoned you to tell you that your armor has been approved for usage.¡±


    ¡°Good to know.¡± I blinked.


    Waited.


    Watched him give his eyes a deep rub. Let out a great sigh as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk. And, after another sigh, he dragged his nails down his cheeks as if to shred any traces of false amiability or benevolence from his persona. Revealing something burning in his eyes that I never expected to see.


    Hope.


    ¡°I¡¯ve had this conversation several times before, Amun,¡± Zorrenor said.


    ¡°I bet you have.¡± I flicked my eyes around his head a snort. To where a school of black wisps and streaks of energy chaotically whipped around and through his skull without end. ¡°That¡¯s more curses than most people see in their lifetimes.¡±


    ¡°Bestowed upon me by the Nox. As I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve surmised.¡± He smiled softly. Paused and eventually leaned back to turn away with a nostalgic look. And muttered. ¡°Cole was the first of your family I met. He was a student in the Bodhi Tree¡¯s opening year. We had a meeting- much like this, but. He¡­¡± Zorrenor pulled on his collar to show a large scar that covered much of his shoulder and came to an end somewhere in the depths of his robes. ¡°He assaulted me at first sight. Claiming, ''I broke the rules; that, ''the Shadow of Death haunts me,'' and, ''I must be punished.'' But, in the end, he did not kill me, for he claimed my knowledge was invaluable to his descendants.


    ¡°So, he cursed me. And from then on, I¡¯ve had no choice but to welcome the Children of the Night to these roots. To learn. To grow. To vex and curse me and leave. Every time.¡± He lightly chuckled for a moment. Only for it to pitter out in a pitiful sigh. ¡°I¡¯ve now come to expect certain¡­ events to transpire whenever the Nox returns to these roots. Including but not limited to a complete and utter disregard for authority; a forest filled with undead and shadow creatures; peers, and in some cases teachers either fearing or revering the Nox; Prestige Classes that make the Polaris kingdoms convene to panic en masse; and much, much more.


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    ¡°I... dare to presume you will do the same?¡± He looked at me with almost pleading eyes.


    ¡°Naturally.¡± I turned my gaze to the entity overhead. ¡°But.¡± I dropped my eyes back to him. ¡°I may be willing to make a deal instead.¡±


    ¡°A deal, you say?¡± He scratched his chin and squinted as if to hide the smoldering embers of hope radiating from his eyes. ¡°Very well. But, if I may ask. Why does your family insist on cursing and threatening me?¡±


    ¡°You already know the answer.¡±


    ¡°Indulge me.¡± He smiled. ¡°Why am I not allowed to be blessed with eternal life?¡±


    ¡°For starters, because there is no such thing.¡± I scoffed. ¡®Not even for an Eternal, despite my proclaimed godliness.¡¯


    ¡°Nothing lives forever, Zorrenor. Not Druids- no matter how powerful they may be, nor dragons or even the most potent lich in existence. Even you- having lived for a thousand years, hardly has a clue as to what eternity truly entails. But allow me to help you understand the folly of eternal life. One day, the sun will die and take a good portion of the Mortal Plane with it. Long after that, everything in the universe will decay; either into nothing or into iron. Regardless of what happens, everything will decay. Light will disappear. Life will return to the void from which it came. Time will become meaningless, and those who¡¯ve been, as you say, blessed with eternal life will be faced with a cold, unchanging emptiness. A veritable death.


    ¡°But that''s beside the point. Your time is up, Zorrenor.¡± I jerked my finger at him again. ¡°You have outlived your stay on the Mortal Plane. The Under calls for your soul. That is why the Shadow of Death haunts you. And we must heed its call. That¡¯s why Cole assaulted you. That¡¯s why I showed you such hostility. However, you were cursed only because you allowed hubris to lead you down such a fruitless path. And still, you show little remorse. Contrarily, I get the feeling that you hope to be released from these curses and be free to enjoy your ¡®eternal life¡¯ like all the other greedy mortals who found a way to cheat death. But that¡¯ll never happen. At least not on this Plane.¡±


    ¡°Cole told me much the same thing.¡± He dryly laughed before I¡¯d even finished. Then subtly sneered as he awaited my reply. So I gave him none to leech. I only stared and waited however long it took for him to continue digging his own grave. ¡°You¡¯re the spitting image of him, you know?¡± He eventually asked. ¡°You¡¯re much smaller of course, but the likeness is uncanny. More so, you are just as powerful as him, if not more. And oh, was Cole of the Nox powerful. Your sorcery is the same. But¡­ you seem different. And it''s not because of your ties to the Fae.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m a Devil unlike any other. Now, is there anything else, headmaster?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He slowly lowered his head to resume his former personal. ¡°While your Abyssal Armor is approved for usage in duels, your Key is not. That is all.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t anticipate having to use it here.¡± I turned to the door with a scoff. Then stopped after grabbing the handle to turn about and look him deep in the eyes. ¡°I hope it was worth it. Whatever you did to gain this stolen time. Because the Raven Reaper will make due on her promise. And I will return to either curse you or make a deal with you. Which one you take is up to you.¡±


    I left without waiting for his reply. Calmly. But once his door was closed and I was a fair way down the hall, I began storming towards the Bodhi Tree¡¯s roots with dutiful purpose. I knew it was only due to my¡­ extensive education with Grandpa Lich, but I felt an obligation to uphold the rules of death and the headmaster sullied them with his avarice. He had to be killed, cursed, or dealt with. Those were the rules. And I had the perfect bargaining chips, but now wasn¡¯t the time to show them. I needed to perfect the deal, learn more from my ancestors, finish my studies in this place; and most importantly, raise some undead.


    But above all, I had to deal with this pent-up aggression of mine. With that and the 15 years of self-repression I was trying to shake free from, I felt as if I could blow at any moment. So I stormed into the gym and flew to the top floor with nary a gaze at the crowd. Not to fight it out with my Doppelganger, but to sit cross-legged in the sand, open SicScript, and focus. I concentrated on drawing a thin stream of my arcana away from the pull of my affinity cores and guided it around my spiritual body. Or rather, forced it through. Carved it through, forming a loop that was much the same as my electrical circuit, but altered to mirror the Gates and Paths detailed in the digital humanoid floating before me.


    For hours, I meditated. I engaged the conscious and subconscious in an effort to subdue the anger boiling my blood away. I concentrated on maintaining the Gates and Paths looping through my spiritual body. And, intermittently, I thought about what I¡¯d demand from the headmaster in exchange for my tomes.


    Other than his soul of course.

 130 - Fortifications

    ¡°First, congratulations. Second, welcome to the unofficial beginning of the second quarter.¡± Doyle gave us a solo round of applause and grinned at the lot of us before continuing. ¡°You¡¯ve all seen exponential improvement over the last three months of training. Now, you are combat-ready. So the name of the game is now experience. You¡¯ll continue your practical lessons in class. But here.¡± He gestured to the verdant forest behind him. ¡°Hunting Season is open. From this week onward, hunting beasts will reward you with many points. And, as of next week, hunting other party members will reward you with even more points. As much as five-hundred, for anyone on the winning side.


    ¡°Enticing, I know.¡± Doyle grinned. ¡°But this forest is a realm in itself. You¡¯ll need great skill or ability to even find a member of another party. And defeating them is another matter entirely. The school recognized this long ago and has chosen to aptly award the students for their efforts. But in doing so, they realized that one day in the wilds wasn¡¯t enough. This brings me to my next announcement: From now until year¡¯s end, our time in the wilds has been extended to two days and two nights. And any duels will be moved to the last day of the week.¡± He declared with a wicked smile. ¡°As such, the objective for this outing is to find and establish a headquarters or base for your party. You must find and secure a position, fortify it up to standard, and provision it with enough rations to sustain yourselves for a month. Once that has been done, you''ll be free to do as you please. And the party will be transported there at the start of every outing going forward.


    ¡°Any questions?¡± He glanced in either direction. Taking each student''s expression into account before he settled on me. ¡°Lead the way.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± I turned to face everyone after taking Doyle¡¯s spot. ¡°Els, Urshure, Zakira, and Rhody are in charge of choosing our location. Once we get to our area of operation, those four will lead scouting parties while the rest of us will switch between gathering resources and providing security. Check your gear, use the restroom, or do whatever it is you have to do before we depart. We leave in five.¡±


    Having long grown used to my ways, the party rightfully took my words as a dismissal and scattered to tend to their last-minute needs. Allowing Doyle free reign to trail behind me with inquiries about my business as usual. ¡°What¡¯s that for?¡± He threw his chin at the large circle I drew in the dirt.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see in a few minutes.¡± I chuckled.


    ¡°Vague as always.¡± He dryly sighed. ¡°These questions can influence your points you know?¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s the true purpose of these points?¡± I turned to him with a placid expression.


    ¡°They¡¯re used as currency,¡± he said simply. ¡°And as recognition.¡± He then shrugged. ¡°But more so as a form of payment. You said you wanted to be an Artificer, right? Well, you¡¯ll need points to buy the necessary components and whatnot.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded. Not that I agreed with the practice.


    ¡°Now, if I may ask, why did you choose those four to lead the scouting mission?¡±


    ¡°Because those four have the most experience living in concealed or fortified locations, sometimes in plain sight. And that is exactly what I need. Now, if you¡¯ll hold your questions for later.¡± I turned my attention to the gathered teams. ¡°Everyone but Duke and Urshure, in the circle. That includes you,¡± I said to Doyle. And begrudgingly, he followed, coming to a halt just a few steps later to join in on the expectant gazes surrounding them.


    I, however, lowered my eyes to the circle I¡¯d drawn before. It had a radius of ten meters and was hardly perfect. But it was more than enough to comfortably house Doyle and the students. Surprisingly, however, few of them seemed to notice the trap spell I laid into it. The gravity mana, weak though it was, was enough to cause a gentle rumble to ripple across the ground and rise to a crescendo that cracked the stone itself. The sound alone caused some of the bystanders to lose their footing and, in some cases, miss seeing the small island detach from the ground and drift up into the sky. But oh, did they feel it.


    It took me and the two winged ones to ascend to their height for them to look down and shake in either awe or fear from seeing the ground so far below them. After snickering at their plight for a bit with Urshure, I tethered the island to myself and spawned an Artificial Well to pull me on a subsonic flight on a northern heading. And once I was sure the other two could handle it, I bumped it up to near-supersonic speeds and coasted until the mountain range began to tower over us and the great Bodhi Tree was but a distant and yet still colossal pillar splitting the southern skies in two.


    Eventually, we came to a landing in a grassy field located far behind the lines of the divine beasts'' borders, who I assumed we''d face far more than the other parties. Though they both had members that could travel just as much distance in almost as little time as I could. Even with that being the case, though, I felt confident we could roam freely here. And not just me and the party but my first undead and the Menagerie as well. I wanted them to grow as I did and maybe rise to a higher station than that of a mere sorcerous beast. That, however, required a bit more patience on my part. Thankfully though, it served to be quite the form of motivation.


    Now eager, I assigned a few members to tag along with the teams and sent them on their way. Then divided the remaining groups to form a temporary woodworking squad, a hunting and foraging crew, and a masonry team before sending them off to work. And of course, the silver-haired Battle Mage came waltzing up the moment they dispersed.


    ¡°I¡¯ve rarely flown so I can say with certainty, I''ve never flown thirteen hundred fifty kilometers in just over an hour.¡± Doyle laughed into his map. Then dropped it to reveal widened, baggy eyes filled with a flux of manic emotions. ¡°I¡¯ve never even been this far into the wilds either. We¡¯re so far.¡± He turned back to the Tree with a dry sigh. ¡°Yet, we¡¯re still well inside its territory. That alone is a testament to the Headmaster''s power. To have control over such a vast area. All the plants, the students, and even the creatures who call this place home.


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    ¡°It can be daunting.¡±


    ¡°Impressive, yes.¡± I nodded, turning to him with a blank expression. ¡°But not daunting. Plants can die, after all. And the animals within will then have no reason to stay.¡±


    ¡°I forgot." He sighed weakly. "What is there for a necromancer to fear?¡±


    ¡°Void.¡± I took to the air with a snort and smoked in solitude until the groups returned in sequence.


    After giving them some time to rest, I made a new stone platform and guided them to the first location marked by the scouts: an isolated hill just a few dozen kilometers to the northwest. It was large enough for a modest fortification to be built on top, but I was more interested in what was underneath. If we were to use it, I intended to take after ants and construct vast labyrinths. The only downside was that there were many members in the other parties that were also adept at operating underground. And worse, every access point would have to be emplaced on ground level. Making it prone to flooding. Not only that but many of those in my party were without night vision. That could have been negated with sconces and braziers, I supposed, but the investment simply wasn¡¯t worth it.


    A few dozen more kilometers to the south from that was by all rights a junction point between two biomes. From here, we could see that this vast savanna sat atop a plateau that boasted little hills or trees but had been complemented by a river that wound in from further west. From that raised section of the earth- like a fault line had split the ground into two- the river poured and dispersed into a mist before landing in the vast lake below. Within that lake was a central island large enough for a compound. And around it was a densely verdant forest that appeared to stretch all the way back to the Bodhi Tree. A forest filled to the brim with an abundance of magical and mythical life.


    Upon seeing it for what it was, the more childish parts of my brain got the immediate idea to build a series of arboreal forts. Though, with many students who could fly and a couple of half-orcs who could manipulate plant life in the other parties, that was simply suicide in the making. One strong spell was all it¡¯d take to topple our base to the ground. Besides, the aforementioned childlike aspect didn¡¯t fit the intended purpose of the structure. That left the waterfall itself. Of which there were three aspects about it that I liked. The first of them was the cliff. The grassy field along the edge provided few, if any, warnings of the dropoff. Only a few clusters or outcroppings of stone sat along the edge and only a few distant trees could be seen from the precipice. However, further down the cliff were several ledges or terraces that were just wide enough for one to sit, stand, or perhaps even lay on. The selling point was that those ledges or terraces could¡¯ve easily been linked to the natural cave sitting behind the waterfall. Pointed out by Urshure to be the perfect den for a young dragon and thus would suit our needs perfectly. And everyone seemed to agree. Even Zakira and Rhody, who had yet to show us their locales. So we descended, took a few minutes to scout out the place, and reconvened a few minutes later to make a plan.


    After half an hour of deliberation and architectural design, we decided to leave the alcove behind the waterfall as it was for the most part. The space itself was only about five meters deep with vaulted ceilings that stood around six meters high, thus the only alterations would be the installation of a curtain or wall behind the fall to block the light pouring out from behind it at night, and perhaps some outhouses and a few crafting stations carved into the rock. Aside from that, the small cave leading deeper into the cliff would be raised and doored to seal off the underground complex I designed with Terranaut. A simple, three-story layout, with the main floor dedicated to mission planning and recreation, the dorms placed above it, and a warehouse below.


    The final agreed-upon objective was to build a small lookout post on the island, which sat about 160 meters away from the waterfall basin and more than twice the distance away from the southern coast. It was a tad bit larger than the hill from earlier and irregular in shape, probably 90 by 110 meters, and filled with trees, thickets, and most likely several animals. While it was a veritable bounty of wood and forage, the entire party pitched in to form the island into an amalgamation of many places. A faux base and security fort. A crafting or industrial yard. Gardens and farms. Outdoor recreational centers. Anything we could think of was added to the design and painstakingly copied onto paper. And with that, I made a small security detail and released everyone to work.


    For me, that consisted of using the void to more or less repeat my actions in Hill Base while Doyle watched from the sidelines in horror. From my practice, I was able to float through the main floor and most of the second floor with ease and without the use of the Dial- mostly due to the speed at which Els worked. From there, I ventured to the cliff face to modify the terraces and alcoves, making them deep enough to house two or three people comfortably before I tasked Peter with camouflaging them while I connected them to the main compound with steep staircases and slides.


    With over a dozen magically gifted individuals working on the task, the island infrastructure was completed before five in the evening. That milestone, coupled with the dipping sun and the smell of smoked meat lingering in the air seemed to cause a sudden wave of celebration to sweep over the party. They started to disperse into their cliques and throw up glasses in a cheer while I continued on with more business. But not just me, for I dragged their doppelgangers off one by one to create their rooms according to their design. And once that was done, I ventured below ground with Els and a few others to carve out a warehouse and walk-in freezer.


    Only then was I allowed a chance to sit back, eat, smoke, and admire my work. But that didn¡¯t last long, because in doing so, I got a great idea.


    ¡°What do you think about digging out a mine?¡± I mentioned to Els.


    Even without the mention of his name, the dwarf stopped his mug halfway to his mouth and held it there while he stared into my eyes. ¡°We¡¯re already underground.¡± He lowered his mug and looked away. ¡°And we¡¯d need metals if we were to do any crafting. Let¡¯s do it!¡± He turned back to me, beaming. Then flung himself from his seat to sprint to the basement. And not too far behind him, was me. Amassing void mana into my hands to carve a deep channel into the depths of the Bodhi Tree¡¯s territory.


    Eventually, though, a soft humming sound brought me to a stop. And after looking at Els¡¯ wide-eyed expression, I understood that he heard it too.


    ¡°What¡­ is that noise?¡±

 131 - The Peering Eye Cove

    ¡°It¡¯s a good sign. And it''s what we¡¯re looking for.¡± Els turned to me with a fanatic grin. ¡°That, my boy, is the song of iron.¡±


    ¡°Ah." I nodded in understanding. "My mother did mention being able to sense ores. I never imagined it to be through sound, though.¡±


    ¡°Of course it''s sound! You thought all that talk of the stones'' voices was metaphorical?¡± He exclaimed.


    "Yes, actually."


    ¡°Agh! Wet sandstone, your mind is sometimes!" He tossed his arms in frustration. "Yer a creature of the Darkworld! Dwelling deeper even than my kind. It¡¯s said dwarves and drow have been at odds since our folk first came to the Darkworld and got corrupted into the Gray Ones. All dwarves learn about them and Drow growing up. Though, for most of us, yall are just Faerie tales."


    ¡°Oh?¡± I smiled at him as I sent the void cutting into the rock without resistance. ¡°Do tell.¡±


    ¡°Well, your kind is harmed by sunlight. But you don¡¯t seem to mind.¡± He harrumphed. ¡°That aside from that, y¡¯all can''t take the heat but can see further in the dark than almost any other creature. Y¡¯all have outstanding hearing and a great sense of touch, but your sense of smell is weaker than other elves. But like all creatures from the Darkworld, Drow has an understanding of the stones around us. Like this carving of yours.¡± He gestured to my magic. ¡°You ever done this before? Ever had practice?¡±


    ¡°Once. And no.¡± I shrugged. And it wasn¡¯t a lie. ¡°I haven¡¯t exactly practiced this.¡±


    ¡°Yet, everything you¡¯ve carved is structurally sound. Reinforcements are a contingency, I know.¡± He waved his fat hand. ¡°But the fact is, dwarves, drow- even deep gnomes, all have a type of stone sense. But drow senses are said to be all, elegant and curvy.¡± He waved both hands this time in a mocking display. ¡°You care about sculpting and you understand how fluids move. And it''s said your kind can sense not just metals but even gems and Drowcraft.¡±


    ¡°Drowcraft, huh?¡± I skeptically smiled, though his words mostly fell in line with my mother¡¯s stories. Fantastical though they were. ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯ve ever seen or tried it. And while other elves may have better noses than us, ours are still leagues better than humans. But what else do you know?¡±


    ¡°That half-drow are rare but tougher than pure drow.¡± He said. ¡°Part of being a human, we say. You can use the abilities of both and the weaknesses of both parents is somewhat diminished.¡±


    ¡°Interesting,¡± I commented aloud. Then remained silent after cutting into the conspicuously auspicious vein. That said, it wasn¡¯t as if iron deposits were rare or anything. But still, I was hoping Telin would¡¯ve blessed me with some Mithral or something. But that, I was aware, could only be found in the Darkworld. So I took my wins as they came and gathered a bit of iron to take back upstairs.


    The warehouse at the top of the shaft was barren and unmarked for now. Only a half-round room obstructed by the staircase reaching down from the center, with preinstalled stone pallets to neatly store the wood, stone, and now ore. Continuing up provided much the same scenery as below. Only it was more spacious and sparsely furnished. The entrance to the basement sat in an alcove just to the right of the kitchen, which in turn was just to the right of the entrance. Beyond that was an open space filled with most of the party, scattered amongst three crude tables that¡¯d been emplaced around a smoldering hearth.


    Upon seeing the jovial atmosphere, Els plopped himself down to tend to an ale kept in his satchel while I decided to pop the hearth¡¯s cherry by making a dish the party was sure to love. Chicken and dumplings. When it was made I gathered the class around for a meal and even gave Doyle a bowl. He¡¯d been silently watching me cook the whole time, taking notes and refusing to intervene. But that didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t sit in for a fine meal.


    He bowed his thanks while taking the bowl from my hand and sat on a stool in the corner. And after watching his face light up with the first bite, I couldn¡¯t help but grin in satisfaction.


    After wallowing over their reactions for a while, I finished my dinner and went outside for a smoke. Only to find a certain silver-haired man standing off in the shade, blowing clouds into the back of the waterfall. ¡°Care to share?¡±


    His spine stiffened before he leaped just a few centimeters off the ground, wheeled around, and faced me with his hands clasped behind his back.


    ¡°It¡¯s no secret that you smoke, Doyle. You don¡¯t have to hide it.¡±


    ¡°Smoking in front of my students is unprofessional.¡± He feigned a smile. ¡°It¡¯s a nasty habit that you all are too young to pick up.¡±


    ¡°Oh, so we¡¯re old enough to kill, drink, and join a guild or military, but not old enough to smoke?¡± I pulled out a smoke of my own with a laugh.


    ¡°Chahaha! It¡¯s a nasty addiction, is all.¡± He laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be the reason any of you start.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡± I shrugged with mild interest. ¡°If you care to pass the time, I¡¯m interested in your Class. You said you were a Battle Mage? What level?¡±


    ¡°Twelve!¡± Doyle beamed. ¡°Battle Mages blend spellcasting with martial combat. Something you seem to have a knack for.¡±


    ¡°Eh.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m more interested in learning how to make things. I¡¯m only becoming a Monk out of necessity.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± He looked over my shoulder and let out a small laugh. ¡°You have a knack for that too. But I can¡¯t tell you about Perks just yet, so be patient and keep doing what you¡¯re doing.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡±


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    ---


    After my prompt exit, I went to my quarters to meditate and woke up at midnight to go topside and release the Menagerie to hunt and pull security while I smoked and worked in the sweet silence of the night. I used Void Whips to carve pipe structures that snaked from the cliff face and snaked them to each room. Then used the Wrath Form to install mirrors in each junction to reflect the light into the interior without disturbing the occupants. After that, I went outside to the ¡®porch¡¯ and took an immediate right to carve out a relatively large annex and morphed the stone inside to make a set of furnaces paired with a rudimentary forge. Then relocated to the basement to carve out an access hatch connecting said forge to a proper workshop.


    The workshop itself was positioned next to the warehouse. Which had now been furnished with support beams and sconces fastened into stone pegs along with more raised stone pallets arranged throughout the center. On which sat mostly wooden supports for the various rooms and alcoves to be constructed, as well as firewood and raw lumber, cut stone blocks, and a pile of bones. I took the bones for myself, as they¡¯d be useful later, and then elected to extend both the workshop and freezer by a fair margin before I returned topside to lounge about with a serving of leftovers.


    It was just after five when I returned from my obligatory smoke break and found the early birds finishing up with their breakfast. Including Doyle, who jumped from his seat to catch up to me before I could turn about and disappear.


    ¡°I thought all the work had been completed last night.¡± Doyle chuckled dryly as he gestured to the new forge. ¡°Impressive doesn¡¯t fit the bill. Have you done this before?¡±


    ¡°I have actually,¡± I smirked at him. Then paused to part the waterfall and ascend to the top of the cliff. ¡°For a small town in Maru. Though calling it a settlement would be more apt.¡± I mumbled as we came to a rest, then turned to scan the horizon. Pausing as my eyes fell on his. ¡°It was my first request.¡±


    His brows furrowed before he squinted at me, shaking his head. ¡°They wanted you to build a city for them?¡±


    ¡°They wanted me to kill bandits.¡± I snorted. ¡°So I did, and I offered to solve their other problems as well.¡±


    ¡°In exchange for loyalty, I presume?¡± Doyle scratched his chin, piercing the morning with an ear-raising racket. ¡°That¡¯s not a good look for a future Guild Master.¡±


    ¡°I have no intentions to rule or conquer anyone. Nor do I wish to help everyone in need. I am an explorer,¡± I said, looking into his eyes. ¡°But if people ask for my assistance and I decide to help them, then I¡¯m going to truly help them. That doesn¡¯t mean slaying whatever oppresses them for coin and going on my merry way. It means ensuring they can feed themselves, keep themselves warm- keep themselves fed, and safe well after I am gone.


    ¡°As for that place in Maru, it was the citizens who agreed to name me their lord, though I did give them the option,¡± I said. ¡°They made that decision after I built a proper village for them, trained their guards, educated them, and left the leaders and other professionals in whatever positions they held prior to my arrival.¡±


    ¡°In that case, it sounds like you¡¯ve already stepped down the path of a Guild Master.¡± He smiled with misplaced pride. ¡°I know I probably shouldn¡¯t say this, but I envy you. You¡¯re only fifteen, and you¡¯ve already done what I couldn¡¯t do.¡±


    Instead of asking, I stayed silent in the hopes of him rambling on his own. Unfortunately, he simply lifted his head and tossed his despair aside with a meaningless excuse. ¡°But what can I expect from a necromancer?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any undead.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Only a few wraiths and poltergeist that I left in another¡¯s control. No shadows.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± He hung his head in disappointment. Turned away, then glanced back at me to ask. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m waiting for a candidate who meets my criteria,¡± I said.


    He turned to fully face me, his head tilted to the side like a confused dog. ¡°Does that include a sentient creature?¡±


    ¡°I do want something that can speak, yes,¡± I admitted with a shrug. ¡°But I was thinking something along the lines of a mythical beast. Maybe a minotaur or something.¡± I grinned. Then turned away and let out an Umbral Whistle before he could ask any questions. Surprisingly, he hunched forward once I let it loose and cradled his ears once the echoes dispersed. Then stomped to full height at once, throwing his gaze to me before it was pulled to the source of a sudden rumble permeating the air.


    Following his bulging eyes, I saw Chako, Orpheus, Jima, and Hatchi leading a mob of stampeding shadow beasts. They ran without a hint of slowing as they approached. Some were bloodied and bruised while others were as healthy as they¡¯d been upon their release, but all of them were brimming with energy sourced from the twilight around them. And would be still once they fell into my Shadow Pocket to sleep the day away.


    ¡°I assumed you had summoned creatures.¡± Doyle cackled in maddened disbelief. ¡°But the fact that you have so many is¡­ astounding to say the least.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I snorted. ¡°As you said, I¡¯m a necromancer- a summoner, by default.¡±


    What little of Doyle''s misplaced pride was left suddenly deflated as he sighed. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right. But the only other person born with an affinity for death has hardly been seen in this Realm. There are necromancers, some creatures have death magic, and liches do exist, yes.¡± He nodded. ¡°But they¡¯re insignificant in the face of you or the Necro King. And he''s rarely been seen in this realm at all.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded. It was true that Grandpa Lich and I were separated by nearly four centuries. And the last ancestor before him to be born with death was separated by another four and a half centuries.


    ¡°I assume that¡¯s where you learned all this?¡± He gestured to the cave far below our feet.


    ¡°Not exactly.¡± I snorted. ¡°But it is something I learned when I was younger. That aside.¡± I waved the topic away before he could continue prying. ¡°I¡¯m curious about your time as an adventurer.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± He looked away, rubbing his head and smiling dumbly in a play of faux modesty. ¡°I did my own thing for a time and eventually formed a party. Zeff and Olga were among them. At first, we followed the Polaris military north before eventually pushing east around the coast of the World Sea, into unexplored territory. It was rough.¡± He chuckled softly. ¡°But we survived, grew stronger, and eventually made names for ourselves. In time, we started renting posh inns and living the finer life every time we returned to the civil world. But we¡¯d also get pestered into joining the Polaris Military. every time. So.¡± He meekly shrugged. ¡°We applied to become instructors here to get them off our backs. And, for the most part, it worked.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you want to join Polaris'' military?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Most Mystics don¡¯t.¡± He laughed back. ¡°Why be the dog of an Emperor you¡¯ve never seen when you hold the power to dictate your own terms? That¡¯s the question many Mystics ask themselves when approached by them. Sure, there are places and dangers far beyond the limits of those without their support. But even then, those adventurers still have the choice to go in the first place or retreat as they see fit. Unlike in a military, where you¡¯re at the mercy of orders.¡±


    ¡°That makes sense.¡±


    ¡°But it wasn¡¯t always like this.¡± He continued. ¡°Before Polaris and the Great Migration, few- if any nations had militaries that sought to conquer an entire Realm. There were only guilds who explored the Realms, recovering lost knowledge and uplifting civilizations. Something that I hear you wish to do.¡± He probed with a much-too-friendly bump of the elbow.


    ¡°I do,¡± I admitted. ¡°But the word ¡®guild¡¯ is only a moniker for the first stage in my overall plan. To secure Ulai, I need more than a mere guild of a few hundred members. It needed thousands; if not millions of mystics, soldiers, and civilians."


    ¡°Ah.¡± Doyle rocked back in understanding. ¡°So what you mean is, you intend to form your own empire?¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡± I grinned.

 132 - Wicked Specialties

    Over the course of the rest of the second day and night, we managed to get most of the headquarters furnished with wooden or stone furniture and lined with pelts, carvings, and other rudimentary decorations. And after a night of rest, our last outing of the first quarter was concluded with a morning cleanup session. Afterward, we gathered on the island to watch Doyle embed a crystal into the dirt. Then watched in awe as growths of vines poured from the ground, twisting and writhing over themselves to form a wooden doorway carved with glowing sigils.


    Stepping through brought us to our tranquil courtyard in the roots of the Bodhi Tree, over a thousand kilometers away. And from there, we were free to enjoy our day off or watch another duel between the Amazonian Warriors and the overly competitive goliaths. I, however, told Zakira I¡¯d catch up with her later and traveled to the edge of the courtyard to do something I¡¯d been wanting to do since I met with the headmaster.


    Commune.


    In the midmorning shade of the recesses of our courtyard, I approached the shade of a nearby tree and quietly fell into it. Then emerged in the pestilent realm of darkness naught a moment later. It was my first time venturing to this part of the realm and so I took a look towards the divine tree, only to see a decaying husk with a hollowed trunk and dilapidated roots.


    Satisfied with the surroundings, I dove down into the ground and was consumed by darkness- my darkness, filled with nearly every material possession I¡¯ve collected in this life along with the menagerie. But I kept falling. And soon came upon the ashen gates of the Underworld, drifted through them, and descended to the plain of necrotic smoke that overlooked the ceaseless wailing of the damned.


    Moving past my throne, I continued falling. I kept diving to the Under and eventually came to a halt above it, hovering in that strange mix of flying and standing above the nigh-infinite expanse of tortured souls and wicked devils.


    Though they scattered at the mere sight of me, I continued flying above them. Scouting out the Under with thoughts of dropping in on one of the trillions of imps for some conversation. About what was my biggest guess, however, so I took a dip into the void and unsurprisingly saw nothing. Felt nothing. Again. And so, with seemingly nothing else to do, I returned to my throne to sit and spoke before the Raven Reaper even had a chance to sidle up behind me.


    ¡°I told the False Devil what you said.¡±


    ¡°And?¡± She wheeled around my throne, smiling as regally and playfully as always. ¡°Your opinion?¡±


    ¡°He was¡­ hopeful, that I¡¯d lift him of his curses,¡± I said. ¡°But he broke the rules.¡±


    ¡°And in time, he¡¯ll get what he deserves.¡± She peered at me in a way that stated it was more of a demand or a fact than reassurance or anything else. ¡°For now, you should heed his knowledge of Classes and think of what your specialty will be. I understand you may have other magical affinities, but your Sorcery will always be the most powerful of them all. It is fully engrained in your mind, body, spirit, and soul. It can never be taken away.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s something I¡¯ve been curious about.¡± I squinted at her. ¡°Specifically, if how I use my Sorcery ties into whatever Prestige Class I get. Assuming I even have one.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but no,¡± Telman stated after apparating. ¡°While your other classes may be influenced by your sorcery, they are largely determined by your magic, skills, abilities, and accomplishments. Your sorcerous class, however- the Prestige One- seems to go by no such formula, however.¡±


    ¡°As I understand it, your father was a type of Mastermind.¡± Azrael appeared before me. ¡°A type of rogue focused more on intrigue than anything else. Yet his sorcerous class was akin to my power, wherein he created dolls of bone and animated them with darkness.¡±


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    ¡°Everandus was raised a knight on the path to be Paladin. Yet his friend taught him his barbaric ways. Even then, however, our sorcery turned him into the Necro King he is known by today,¡± Telman stated. ¡°He, Azrael, and Emeric were graduates of the Bodhi Tree. Unlike me and my father. We evolved from Gran¡¯s Tree. As a Fighter, I was a Shadow Hunter. As a Sorcerer, an Abyssal Archivist.¡±


    ¡°And I was a Shadowdancer.¡± Darkblood grinned. ¡°A rogue. Like a Swashbuckler, but better. Lived on the seafloor and attacked anyone I wanted really. Me and my boys would ascend in the night, spreading darkness, summoning storms; generally scaring the piss outta folk. But then my Sorcery made me a Shadowblood. Hence my moniker.¡±


    ¡°And I was a Cleric of Grimm.¡± Corvus declared with a warm smile, one that¡¯d probably be horrific if seen by anyone else. ¡°Combined with my druidic class, I became known as the Raven Reaper. I was known for my vampiric ability to transform into a flock of ravens, and I sometimes drank blood. But my chosen purpose was to ensure the Underworld received the souls called to its gates. And so my sorcery is what made me a Reaper.¡±


    ¡°Like the False Devil.¡± I nodded. To which she nodded back. So I continued. ¡°But that begs the question. What was your progenitor?¡±


    ¡°My mother, Rigel Cole, was like you. A True Devil.¡± Corvus smiled wider. ¡°While you clearly possess something¡­ more, you both have the purest form of our Sorcery. In her words, ''The wicked undead befriends the Shade, worships Death, and fears the Void.'' ''Tis the only thing the Under fears, for it is the only thing that can bring about its end.¡±


    ¡°Which brings me to my biggest curiosity.¡± I sighed. ¡°Only my mother knows this, but I¡¯ve been having the same dream ever since I could remember. Every single night. It¡¯s part of being an elf, she said. Memories from our ancestors. Evidently, it¡¯ll stop when I get older. But, she remembers her dreams being different every night.¡±


    All of my ancestors leaned forward in objected anticipation. But it was Corvus, as always, who spoke for them. ¡°What is it that you see?¡±


    ¡°It plays like a story in my dreams- or, like a book that I read a chapter a night. I see a night sky, filled with vibrant hues and hundreds- if not thousands of stars. Within a few months, a void seems to creep across the sky. And by a year the void condenses into what appears to be a draconic devil. Whatever it is, it has our skin with what appears to be scales of darkness. Two arms and two legs. Wings. Its eyes are black, with white irises like that of a dragon or reptile. It has two sets of horns, one sticking straight up and the other curling around its head, ending in forked points. I see it standing before the night sky we see today. And then the dream reverses and eventually repeats.¡±


    ¡°If Eved is correct, then I believe you are seeing our first ancestor.¡± Corvus gasped in amazement. ¡°I know not of their name, but those in the Crypt may.¡±


    ¡°All the more reason to go.¡± I sighed. I wanted- needed to know why my ancestor decided to isolate the Mortal Plane from the rest of the vibrant universe I saw in Telin¡¯s hand. Assuming they did in the first place. But the only other explanation was that this universe was extremely old and thus the Hubble Expansion was responsible for the isolation of the universe¡¯s galactic clusters. But I doubted that was the case.


    ¡°Be patient, young devil.¡± Corvus smiled gently, though her words did little to help. ¡°You must focus on the now. Like your Classes, you must choose a way to use our power in a way that suits you. Have you an idea of what that is?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s yet another thing I¡¯ve been thinking about recently.¡± I leaned back into my throne with a nod. ¡°I¡¯ve also been thinking about Devils. How we relate to them. How they react to me. How we¡¯re perceived on the outside to be them. After my meeting with the headmaster, I came to a decision.¡± Peering over my armrest, I swept my eyes around the dense crowd of souls and devils tormenting and being tormented without end. ¡°My specialty will be Curses and Deals. Like a true devil. Or, as some call me, an Elven Devil.¡±


    ¡°Admirable.¡± Corvus bared her fangs in a grin. ¡°And what of your path?¡±


    ¡°I''m in the process of forming Legions.¡± I grinned back. ¡°One for the day, one for the night. One living, one dead. One to help people in need, one to spread chaos. Creators and Destroyers. Soldiers and Explorers led by me and my troupe. I¡¯ll make deals with those seeking to escape their mortality and curse those others would have killed. Curses and Deals. Deals and Curses.¡±


    ¡°Quite the ambitions for a necromancer with no undead.¡± Corvus chided with a turn over her shoulder, guiding my eyes to the empty expanse stretching behind my ancestors.


    ¡®Here we go again.¡¯

 133 - Shared Studies

    ¡°Copper Party, all present.¡±


    ¡°I was hoping you¡¯d change the name you know,¡± Doyle muttered. ¡°But sit tight.¡± He threw his chin across the amphitheater to pull my eyes toward the stage. ¡°The Headmaster will make his announcement soon.¡±


    ¡°As if he¡¯d heard Doyle say his title, the False Devil waded across the stage with his arms spread out to his sides. ¡°Welcome back from your extended outing! I hope you had fun. And I hope you enjoyed your day off. More than all, I hope you all are looking forward to continuing your education at the Bodhi Tree of Arcane Knowledge. As I¡¯m sure many of you have noticed on your days off and in particular, on your way in, the campus has seen many changes throughout the last couple of days. The increased density of the ambient mana? The paths and corridors that have seemingly sprouted from nowhere? All but a few of many changes that you students will have to accommodate for going forward.¡±


    He paused, grinned, then inhaled sharply as if to summon the strength to pivot and begin pacing across the stage. ¡°The quarter of our first year, otherwise known as the ¡®Grace Period,¡¯ gives the students time to acclimate themselves to our environment, to our lifestyle, before we begin forging you into Mystics who can survive in any of the known Realms. To do just that, we¡¯ve categorized each of you into one of three categories and displayed them on billboards spread across campus. These categories hold no real meaning, they only serve as a way to evenly pair you with opponents at the mid-year ceremony.¡± He reassured us with bared palms. Only to drop them in the next seconds, bringing our eyes up to an almost nefarious grin. ¡°That said, these categories will also serve as a way to ensure fairness in any duels that may arise.


    ¡°You are shown these placements now for one reason.¡± He continued after a short pause. ¡°To motivate you into rising into the higher tiers before the end of the semester. For it is then that you will face your greatest challenge as of yet. An opponent that has been carefully chosen to match your every strength. Keep in mind that these matches will be spectated, not only by your senior classmates and the class instructors, but by scouts and recruiters from various guilds, militaries, and organizations from across the explored realms. So!¡± He clapped his clawed hands and split his face wide in a fiendish grin. ¡°With that in mind, I urge you to do your best and face these new challenges head-on.¡±


    He left the stage with a bow and a wave. Prompting Doyle and the other teachers to crowd around him and talk for a few minutes before they dispersed once again, with Olga going to her class, Zeff to his, and Doyle to us. Yet they all guided us away from the Hub towards the south side of the root complex.


    After cutting through the corridors and courtyards, we continued across a barren expanse for around a hundred meters until we arrived at a cliff overlooking a vast lake. Then continued down some winding roots that served as both stairs and catwalks stretching down and across the cliff face, allowing access to what could¡¯ve been no less than hundreds of alcoves, all dug into the rock and walled off by thick growths of brambles and wood.


    While Olga took her class and kept descending, Zeff and Doyle gathered their parties on opposite ends of a round wooden dais and spread their arms in unison. ¡°Welcome to the Undergrowth!¡± They shouted as if they were showing a new estate. ¡°This is the only area accessible by students of all years,¡± Zeff explained with a loud clap. ¡°Save the lowest level, where you¡¯ll find the mines.¡±


    ¡°Everything above that is the Training Huts.¡± Doyle gestured down the catwalk at our level. A wooden bridge that extended nearly a kilometer into the distance. Only a few daises similar to the one on which we stood broke the structure apart until it eventually came to an end in a raised spine of rock running down the face. ¡°They¡¯re separated vertically by grade and there are more than enough to house each student in attendance at the academy at once.¡±


    ¡°You all will be meeting here for my class, to continue developing spells in privacy and to practice your martial techniques,¡± Zeff explained.


    ¡°And my class will focus on elemental combat," Doyle stated with a grin. "Today and for the next four weeks, you''ll train in merging elemental manipulation and mana molding with your chosen weapon. As before, those of you with natural weapons like claws, fangs, or talons are omitted from choosing a weapon. Though you¡¯ll still have to train. Any questions?¡±


    ¡°Good!¡± Zeff clapped after realizing there were none. Then guided his students to another dais with a wave over his shoulder.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Doyle turned to us once they were out of earshot. ¡°Gather your weapons and spread yourselves apart for a quick demonstration.¡±


    Following the other students, I approached the consoles to tuck my daggers into my belt and store my spear in my shadow. Though, only out of habit or because it felt ¡®right.¡¯ For my training though, I took the three-section staff out of my Shadow Pocket. It was a crude weapon, but a weapon fit for training nonetheless. That said, a proper one was one of the first things I wanted to make once I became an artificer.


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    ¡°Alright.¡± Doyle shook his arms loose once the party had been gathered around him. He still wore his simple clothes, high leather boots paired with black trousers and a white button-up with a ruffled collar. A leather pauldron on the left shoulder acted as the only form of defense while his offense was an exquisite rapier he kept at the low ready. ¡°You all know how to manipulate the elements. To such a degree that outclasses even veterans.¡± He muttered under his breath. ¡°However, the focus of this quarter will be learning how to incorporate that and mana molding into our fighting techniques. Being physical abilities, these are the only things other than perks and equipment you can use to protect yourself against antimagic. And using it in tandem with your fighting will give you an edge you may not have had before. That said, you must train to learn how to use the elements in accordance with your chosen weapon. That is why we¡¯re here. Take my rapier for instance.¡± He snapped the blade up in a salute.


    Raising his blade high, Doyle inhaled sharply and then swung his sword down, forming a thin line of fire that became a sphere of indecipherable scribbles as the blade danced around in a frenzy. Then he lunged forward with a thrust, sending a small fireball rocketing forth from his blade to crash into a nearby tree. Again raising his blade overhead, Doyle then slashed down towards his right and brought the blade upwards in the same motion, sending crescent arcs of water and air crashing into the nearby environment before he lunged forth a final time. Only to snicker once a tiny pebble skittered to a halt at his feet.


    A final deep breath saw him sheathe his blade and turn back to us with a meek expression. Though it didn¡¯t show in his voice. ¡°As you just observed, my rapier is compatible with fire, air, and water. But not the earth. That won¡¯t be the case for a great sword, nor will it be for a spear or dagger. As I said before, you¡¯ll need to find an element and method that works for you, so if there are no questions. Pick a hut and get started. You¡¯ll find the dummies inside to be more challenging than the ones you¡¯ve faced before.¡±


    Turning away from his anticipatory grin, I joined Zakira and the rest of my squad to choose the final set of five huts and went inside after a few words with them. And for the rest of the day, I trained in peaceful solitude. Mainly with the staff while my doppelganger trained with first my spear, followed by my daggers after lunch. Only, it used shadows that acted like the elements rather than the elements themselves. With the 3-sectioned staff, however, I quickly learned that manipulating the earth with it was by far the most efficient, followed closely by air. Swings and slams pulled great pillars up from the ground or shattered them entirely, and great gusts could be produced as I swung and twirled the weapon around. But water and fire were no better than what I saw Doyle use.


    By toying around with my other weapons for a bit, I learned the daggers favored air and water, as it was almost effortless to use those elements to increase the length or sharpness of the blades. The Shadowsteel Reaper, however, was far more surprising.


    The weapon was already magical, but being made from adamantine, stone-mammoth ivory, and wood from a divine tree gave it an attunement with nature that it otherwise wouldn¡¯t have had to begin with. In the same way that Karu¡¯s gold-dusted quills graced the weapon''s movements in the shadows, these materials allowed the blade to be wreathed in flames without the risk of melting or becoming malleable. Columns of earth and dense boulders could be sprouted from the ground or flung about each way with but a swing. Waves and squalls could be inflicted upon my surrounding almost without effort.


    And adding death or shadows to the mix was just as easy.


    By the end of class, I was more than satisfied with my progress. But eager to know that I¡¯ve only scratched the surface of what was possible. I still haven¡¯t tried the art with my unarmed style after all. And there were many other weapons I wanted to become proficient with as well.


    As always, Doyle approached me to tell me to have the party here tomorrow for Zeff¡¯s class and dismissed me with no prying words, much to my astonishment. Though, with the party relatively far ahead by then, I lazily trailed behind them to soak in the environment while I could.


    The cliff face was by far the most serene place here. The views granted nothing but the still blue sheet of Crater Lake stretching out far past the horizon. Besides that were the mines far below us, appearing as nothing more than additional catwalks and platforms akin to the one I was leaving. Sights that made me all the more eager to explore them and learn about all the magical ores and materials this universe had to offer. And, more importantly, how to refine and use them to my end. Though, like virtually everything at this point, that had to wait for another time. So I cleared my thoughts while I trailed to the cafeteria behind my party and took to my table for a short and peacefully quiet meal with Peter and Zakira.


    Seeing one of the many aforementioned pillars on our way back to the dorms, we made a detour and gathered around it to learn just what the categories Zorrenor mentioned were. In short, there were three clipboards- or stages, labeled Natural, Supernatural, and Arcane. As the name implied, Natural students were described to be able to utilize only their natural abilities, be they physical or magical in nature. To what degree wasn¡¯t stated, but 25 out of 55 of the first-year students had their names etched onto the board. With most of them being humans. Similarly, Supernatural beings were those with immense strength or speed, regenerative properties, and the like. As one would expect, 14 mostly inhuman students were held in this tier. The vampires, the goliaths, and the other innately strong species. Though, all of the Amazonians were surprisingly found in this tier as well.


    Arcane beings, however, boasted a total number of 16 members who were said to have power that was either rare or powerful enough to dominate any battlefield. I was pleased to see Toril, Jaimess, Ed, and the others in the same category. Winston too. But what was more curious were the other names listed alongside mine. Zaos Torhorn. Hogaz. Ash. Bazzric Baal. Elurial. And, of course, Zeke Silva and Lance Morningstar.


    Naturally, it was those seven names that I added to GetHelp and sought to find in these here roots.

 134 - Magic Materials

    ¡°So we¡¯ll be having deathmatches at the end of the semester.¡± Peter sighed into his chalice, his voice trembling ever so softly. ¡°I wonder what we¡¯ll be fighting.¡±


    ¡°Well, not people.¡± I snorted. ¡°Probably.¡±


    After Zeff¡¯s reiteration before class the day before, the mid-year festival quickly became the object of everyone¡¯s interest. Including mine, for it¡¯d finally give me a chance to usurp some strength or life and, if possible, raise a worthy shadow.


    ¡°I was hoping they would make duels mandatory.¡± Slate sighed deflatedly.


    ¡°Duels are only a means to settle hostilities,¡± I told him. ¡°To that end, I assume they don¡¯t want us to grow accustomed to fighting under a set of rules or conditions. Monsters don¡¯t play by the rules after all.¡±


    ¡°True.¡±


    ¡°But enough waffling.¡± I stood from the table and looked around for my party members. ¡°It¡¯s time for class.¡±


    Wordlessly agreeing, my teammates cleaned up after themselves and continue on with the ramblings while I opened SpellHell to finish compartmentalizing yesterday¡¯s training and ponder what I learned. As Zeff mentioned in class, this quarter''s focus was blending martial techniques with spell casting. An experiment I started long ago and abandoned due to my incompatible Sorcery. For whatever reason, I rarely- if ever unpaused the experiment after receiving my weapons or awakening my cores.


    Until now.


    Daggers, spear, three-section staff. Every weapon I¡¯d ever used, even my hands, had been tested before lunch. But I also managed to take note of the techniques my party members were developing on my trips to the ''bathroom.'' Scarlett¡¯s webs, for example, fell perfectly in tune with her staff. As did Winston¡¯s scales with his sword and his barriers with his shield. Peter had increased his proficiency with his fans at a frightening pace, and all the students incapable of manipulating elements or casting spells still worked without end to blend their mana molding techniques with the strikes of their claws, fangs, or wings.


    His post-lunch lecture; though, was still imbued with the same theatrics as before. It revolved around affinity detection and spell identification; two of the most important things when fighting magical beings, according to him.


    Detecting affinities first started with concentrating mana in the eyes to see the magical aura of a being or beast; or in my case, by looking at them. By teasing us, he implied that we may have already noticed auras in the form of their impact on the caster''s surroundings: Someone with a fire-based affinity would begin to heat up the environment or even begin to glow when pulling mana through their core. For the sake of most magical and even divine beasts- who only had one affinity, the only other aspect was to sense the amount of mana being put into a spell. But for humans, who could have multiple affinities, there was no other way to detect a magical ability. If the affinity was unused, it would remain unknown, making battles between magic users the most difficult of all.


    What element a spell consisted of and the strength behind it was only half the battle, however. Identifying the type of cast meant the difference between life and death. Bullet spells required one to either deflect or dodge for example, and counters were advised to be used only if we were immune to the magical effect. But even then, attempting such a thing posed a serious risk. For someone with so many immunities and resistances, it was valuable information to consider when blending my techniques.


    Though, that had to wait for later, as we arrived at the Undergrowth with just enough time to spare. Using it, I stepped near the cliff to smoke and observe both the vast lake and the spacious classroom dug into the cliff. By all rights, it was a scaled-up version of what existed on the surface, in the hub. Only, the room was elliptical in shape, sixty meters in diameter on the long axis, with several sconce-lit supports to break up the space. Dozens of what appeared to be butcher''s tables were arranged on the left side, mirroring the exotic forges on the right, all canted to face a large ornate dais furnished with a mix of both stations.


    Like her botany room, the terraced wall shelves held palm-sized chunks of various ores, minerals, and metals all labeled and sealed behind their own glass walls. Leiptr Steel. True steel. Skymetal. Rimfire. Metallic Pearl. Lavabrass and more. All materials that either existed in mythology on the outside or that I¡¯ve never heard in my combined lifetimes.


    ¡°I see some of you are eager to get started, so we¡¯ll begin without further adieu and take a vote.¡± Olga¡¯s songful voice called the party around her dais like sailors to a siren. And she played the part beautifully, gazing upon us with eyes that ate the unbridled eagerness of teenage boys alive. ¡°All in favor of learning of magical metals and ores before lunch, raise your hand,¡± she said. Then giggled in mild surprise once every hand, claw, and wing was raised high. ¡°Very well.¡± She wheeled around her forge, nodding in a teasing manner. ¡°You all know how to butcher beasts, right?¡± She leaned against her forge to shoot a skeptical eye at the lot of us. Then paused to allow her mouth to peel back in a knowing smirk.


    ¡°Or so you think!¡± She shrugged the matter aside and sent us to our stations with a wave.


    As always, I slid into my seat and settled my thoughts while she strode across the room, plucking this and that from the shelves to either stuff them in her bag or stuff them underarm. Olga Godzuik was by far my favorite teacher. She didn¡¯t pry into our business or treat her lectures as if they were some talent show. Instead, she promptly began teaching each day with an enthusiasm I could appreciate. Case in point, she dutifully strode back to her station with a veritable bounty of samples that caused me to froth at the mouth.


    ¡°The world is made of minerals and metals,¡± she said, punctuating words with a gentle slam of each sample on the table. ¡°And like all things, they exist in magical and non-magical forms. Of the latter, there too exists two categories. The Surface Metals are the ones our society depends on. Iron, steel, platinum, electrum, and all the other common metals or natural alloys. And even the uncommon ones.¡± She mentioned with a gesture towards Samson. ¡°But the most renowned metals come from the Darkworld.


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Adamantite,¡± Olga declared by holding up a lump of glossy black ore, sealed away in a jar. ¡°One of the most renowned ores in all the Realms. It¡¯s extremely hard in this state, but brittle. Making it unsuitable for use as a weapon, but relatively easy to mine. That said, it¡¯s extremely difficult to work with. It requires extreme temperatures and deft hands, as it¡¯s impossible to continue working with the material once it''s been cooled past a certain point. However, if that challenge can be overcome, you¡¯ll find yourself with a piece of equipment that shall never chip or dent. Indeed, adamantine is indestructible by normal means. Even most magics cannot harm it.


    ¡°It is said that the dwarves and the drow of the Darkworld have the most expertise in working with the material.¡± She set her sample down with a knowing smile aimed at me and Els before she grabbed a sample containing a silvery metal. ¡°And so too is that the case with this. Mithral. The most precious of all non-magical metals. It is non-magnetic and readily accepts magic energy, placing it in high demand for those seeking magical gear. And, depending on the quality of refinement, processed mithral can be almost as hard as adamantine, but half as light.


    ¡°That concludes the natural metals. And so, we begin with the magical ores. Now, it¡¯ll take all year to detail all the magical minerals and ores in existence, so we¡¯ll learn about the most used and the most known.¡± So saying, Olga turned about to grab a crystal or a mix between a blue diamond and glass that seemed to glow in the same color as the mana around it. A familiar sight, to say the least.


    ¡°This is known as an enchantment crystal,¡± Olga explained with a wave of the object. ¡°On its own, it is one of the most valuable gifts passed on to humanity by the Fey. For its safe to say that humanity would¡¯ve never discovered its secret on our own. The fact is.¡± She set the stone down for a dramatic pause. ¡°Enchantment crystals have to be created. In that sense, they are an alloy. And Artificers guard the recipe with their lives, for a single mistake can lead to insurmountable costs. But creating it is one thing,¡± Olga added with a raised finger. ¡°Learning how to carve each sigil needed for the enchantment to function properly is another matter entirely. Only those with the steadiest of hands and the keenest eyes for magic are able to carve the necessary shapes into the stone. But that isn¡¯t the end of magical ores. In fact, it¡¯s only the beginning.¡±


    After a short, grin-filled pause, she held another jar overhead. This one contained a matte obsidian brick. ¡°This is a Negation stone. Commonly referred to as Negstone. This invasive ore is native to Vagua. It behaves like a mycelium in igneous rock. As such, migration through the portals saw it spread to all other realms. As the name implies, the stone negates any changes to mana within the spiritual bodies of those in its presence. Or, in other words, it nullifies affinity cores.


    "However, its range is limited,¡± Olga reassured us with a gentle pause. ¡°The Negstone rings used by the Marulean Guild Association, for example, are only strong enough to influence the one wearing it. But in the Hells, entire continents are covered in the stuff. The only way to overcome it is to physically destroy the stone. To render it to bits and scatter the pieces across the horizon. Though, with its exceptional hardness, that can sometimes prove to be a tall order. The only option then is to use manipulation, molding, or perks; as the former two interacts with the environment while the latter is the environment reacting to you.


    ¡°Naturally, this is the same material found throughout the walls of the academy. All for the safety of the students, the staff, and the very grains of the academy itself.¡± After a series of nods, Olga placed the stone back to replace it with what appeared to be an ordinary rock. Gray. About the size of a golf ball, but slightly elliptical. However, the longer I stared at it, the more I noticed a distinct sheen or shimmer rippling across its surface. Almost as if it were moving. Undulating ever so softly. And then she rotated the jar, turning the stone about to reveal a gaping hole in its face. Like a toothless maw held wide open to emit a silent groan. Or, more aptly, like the opening of a cave or dungeon. ¡°This is a Wise Rock,¡± Olga explained with a mild expression, almost as if she anticipated a bad joke. ¡°It''s an invasive ore that originally hails from Nonus. However, Wise Rocks do not spread by coming into contact with another rock, as negstone does. Instead, it follows a pattern similar to the life cycle of both plants and fungi.


    ¡°Because of that, it¡¯s also called Living Stone. And that¡¯s for two reasons.¡± She held up her fingers and gave the jar a gentle shake. ¡°First is that this rock is a quasi-sentient being- a symbiote to be exact. It seeks a host that will feed it mana so that it can mature and repeat the cycle of life. In exchange, the stone provides the host with a shelter to call home and provides a means to control their domain and communicate through a mental connection. Though, I use the word ¡®communicate¡¯ loosely." She reassured us with raised palms.


    ¡°The second reason is due to the Rock¡¯s anatomy and how it influences its environment. As you can see.¡± She gestured to the groaning mouth. ¡°Each Wise Rock is naturally like a cave. Only, the inside will always be far more voluminous than what should otherwise seem possible from the outside. This Rock, in particular, is a young pebble with no host. If released from this containment, it will grow to the size of a common boulder with an entry leading to a cave the size of a large warehouse. But when this rock is old enough, it will form pebbles- a bit smaller than this one here.¡± She wiggled the jar. ¡°They¡¯ll form as lumps that cover its surface, where they¡¯ll remain to be eroded by the winds or rain and be carried off into the distance to be deposited in a new environment. Or found by a magical creature. Or even a mystic.


    ¡°Regardless of where they wind up, these innocuous rocks will leech mana from their surroundings until they mature and assume one of four forms.¡± Olga threw up her fingers in a dramatic fashion. ¡°If a Rock that¡¯s left in the wilderness with no host manages to survive, it will break apart its walls, spreading itself over the lands to become an Extreme Mana Zone; or EMZ. If a Rock manages to find a host, but the host¡¯s Well is too weak to sustain it- forcing it to jump from host to host, it will start to attract creatures of the same nature and will eventually become a Dungeon. On the contrary.¡± She dropped another finger. ¡°If a creature powerful enough to become its host is to find a Wise Rock and bond with it, the creature¡¯s home will become a Monster Lair. And, depending on the creature¡¯s base intelligence, may gain some semblance of sentience.


    ¡°Sadly, however, that is not the case with sentient creatures.¡± She sighed, deflating herself just a bit. Only to bounce back up in the next second. ¡°Instead, Wise Rocks seem to recognize our intellect- if not our magical potential, and gorge themselves on our mana. The result is a much larger interior than what could be found inside a dungeon or monster layer- besides that of a dragon¡¯s perhaps. These structures, vast and magnificent, are colloquially known as Mystical Towers. And let it be known that a Wise Rock Pebble is one of the many rewards for graduating from the Guild Master Course.


    ¡°Now.¡± She set the jar down with a smile. ¡°As I said before, it would take us all year to study even the basics of magical materials. So instead, our aim is to teach you how to recover parts and materials from the creatures you encounter or slay. Even if you choose not to learn alchemy or the other crafting arts, selling monster parts and ores can prove to be a lucrative business. Merchants, crafters, alchemists, artificers; even fighters and politicians will pay good coin for them.


    ¡°So.¡± She gave us two quick claps. ¡°Go around, learn about the materials you see around you, then off you go to lunch. And be prepared to get dirty upon your return.¡±

 135 - The Magic Least Used

    The remainder of Olga¡¯s class went about as expected. For those who¡¯d never done it, Olga assisted in butchering the creatures we slayed and instructed the whole party on how to best kill beasts for the most yield of resources. After class, I went through my usual bout of training with the party before retiring for the night. Then woke to resume my mantra of mana-powered meditation until the time came for Doyle¡¯s class, where I¡¯d spend the day becoming proficient in elemental combat and go through much the same process that night.


    While fun and undoubtedly beneficial, the time spent didn¡¯t seem to excite me as much as the prospect of our return to Zeff¡¯s class. And Olga¡¯s, but Zeff¡¯s was first in the line.


    ¡°Good morning, everyone! Zeff greeted us with a resounding clap. Then turned over his shoulder to wait for Doyle and his class to relocate to the next dais. ¡°Today is a free day. Meaning, you are free to practice whatever you so choose. So, if there are no questions, gather your equipment and get started.¡±


    The party scattered without another word. Some moved straight to the alcoves while the majority went to clutter around the crystals emplaced along the railings. Including me and my team.


    ¡°Amun, spar with me.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I snorted without even turning toward the Goliath. ¡°I¡¯m out to create some new spells.¡±


    With a wave of his massive hand, Slate dismissed himself. Setting his sights on Els, he gave both a dismissive grunt and a welcoming, ¡°Ah!¡± before stepping off to intrude upon the dwarf''s peace. I, however, retrieved my gear and skipped off to my training room with little more than a wave to Peter and Zakira.


    As always, green spores appeared along the threshold. Sprouting thick vines and brambles that grew to seal the towering arched entrance behind a living wall. Leaving me stuck inside an unbelievably expansive half-dome, trapped with dozens of animated wooden dummies and flying targets made more durable and deadly than any I''d seen during the first quarter. Though, unlike the day before, the wooden creatures weren¡¯t the objects of my focus. Instead, I was focused on the five cores in my spiritual body- on my magic. Which ones I used most often. How I used them. Why I used them that way. And what other ways I could use them- these were the things I wished to address.


    By far, I used Gravity Magic the most. Not only for locomotion, but it was perfect for offense, defense, and utility. Being one of the four fundamental forces of nature, the magical applications of gravitation magic were essentially limitless. With it, I could bend light and distort space. I could create or destroy worlds- worlds, stars, solar systems, black holes, and even galaxies. ¡®But then, what else could I create with the power of gravity?¡¯


    Following such a notion, I replayed my actions during the outing and lifted a small boulder from the ground. Then, I split the well into two chunks and amassed gravitational energy around both of them to condense and compress them into a pair of absurdly dense sticks. A good start, but I allowed them to float off to the side in favor of sealing in a spell I¡¯d previously thought of while I tried to decide on a name for the new one. Within ten or so minutes of destroying living wood and compressing stone, the abyssal, white-lined face of my grimoire appeared before my eyes in a black flash of non-radiance.


    [Terminal Ferocity - By infusing gravitational energy into your hands and augmenting them with Artificial Wells, both the weight and speed of your punches are increased exponentially.]


    [God Craft - Using gravitational energy, you bend and compress materials into ultra-dense simple tools, structures, and shapes.]


    Rather than dismiss the black book, I flipped through what little spells I had developed for my gravitational core and felt a small hint of satisfaction outweigh the ever-present frustration. Slowly but surely, my grimoire was getting filled. More so, I could finally run through my long list of experiments in peace. As if to facilitate the process, I kept flipping through my grimoire until I came upon the ¡®chapter¡¯ focused on my Electromagnetic Magic. Another affinity I frequently used, albeit not to its full potential- as individual components of the whole but never both, as made evident by my most recent spell.


    [Raiden - By giving shape to electricity, you create a humanoid figure capable of discharging explosive arcs of energy as it attacks; or, upon its destruction.]


    Due in no small part to my lack of creativity, the spell was based on the Doppelganger and thus was subjected to the same tier system as their umbral counterparts. Wherein increasing the mana spent on the clones increased the number of hits the clone was capable of tanking or outputting. That said, I haven¡¯t tried creating a Raiden using a cursed technique. Neither would I on this day, for my sights were aimed much higher.


    First, I turned away from the dummies and raised my finger to chest height. Then, I began pulling mana from my Well to guide it through the elongated peach-shaped organ. Skimming it through the border that split the Core along its long axis and out the other side to amass it in my finger. With enough energy, I began to focus both my eyes and my concentration on altering the perpendicular waves oscillating from the tip of my finger. With a bit of mental strain, I compressed the waves down the pico scale. Then nearly lost my concentration once an overbearing radiant pressure slammed into the walls, sending flakes of stone and pillars of dust raining down from overhead.


    Wary of irradiating the place, I regained my focus and worked to expand the wavelengths, turning the intense gamma radiation into first X-rays, then to ultraviolet- where I allowed it to stay until the stones and vines started to become bleached and brittle. Following that was the confirmation of one of my biggest hypotheses- visible light. Which had its uses, but was tame in comparison to the deadliness of gamma radiation. Still, it was enough to send a wave of elation over me. Beaming wide, I Bamfed a smoke from my Pocket and tuned down the frequency of my finger to light my blunt with a burst of infrared radiation. Then continued scaling down the frequency to confirm my control over radio and microwaves before I moved on to the next section.


    Space-Time magic.


    Another commonly used magic, but a much more situational one. Due to that and my fascination with the power, it was the first affinity I toiled with to learn its limitations. First and foremost was the inability to send anything to the past, including myself. However, I could revert inanimate things to a past state. A dilapidated building could be reverted to its prime, for example. But the cost in mana rose exponentially with reverted time, unlike the spell in reverse. Ironically so, aging something costs relatively nothing. And to that end, I learned that I could travel to the future if I wanted to. Though I only jumped forward a few seconds or minutes at a time, it was easy to surmise that I could jump as far forward as I pleased. And while gone, I simply wouldn¡¯t exist in this reality. From an outside observer, it was like I disappeared without a trace until the moment I returned. And from my perspective, it was like teleporting to a slightly different place. Due to that, I never developed the spell further.


    Rescinding that decision, I dedicated several minutes to gaining proficiency with the spell by sending sticks and stones a few seconds into the future but left the spell unnamed in favor of pondering my other uses with the affinity. Obviously, there was the Chrono Dial. But aside from that and a few others, that was all the chapter had to offer. I had a few ideas on how to fill out the pages- mostly centered around the concept of scrying into the past or future, but those and the ones that weren¡¯t those had to wait until I found myself in a much more open space.


    Naturally, the same line of thinking applied to my least-used magic of all. Although that was due in equal parts to its destructive power and to my reluctance to irradiate the immediate environment. In the past, I could only think to use it explosively, as a heat source like an RTG, as a means to initiate fusion, or as a source for nuclear fallout. Thinking further than that, I confirmed it was possible to use it to replicate stellar nucleosynthesis. But aside from that, I still couldn¡¯t come up with a practical means to use the energy on a regular basis. A stump that yet again served to make something painfully apparent to me: There were too many biases I had yet to overcome.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Living for almost a century and a half in a universe dictated by cruelty and logic gave me an alibi, I supposed. But still, it was apparent to me that I was thinking logically about magic while ignoring the truth. The very essence of magic was illogical. And if that was the case, my Sorcery was something entirely different. That was made evident by the one spell I subconsciously made. The Umbral Iris.


    As a whole, my family- the Nox¡¯s power revolved around the transference of life energies. But our darkness- being the foundation, was centered around confinement, corruption, and summoning. Looking back, the first shadow-related abilities I learned proved that was the case without my realization. Receiving my first allowance essentially forced my Shadow Pocket to open, granting me the means to trap everything from materials to people in a timeless dimension, oftentimes corrupt them, then summon them whenever they were needed. Not to mention the energy was summoned from the Shadow Realm in the first place. And then there were Doppelgangers.


    When merged with our necromancy, it created a means for souls to return to the Mortal Plane at the cost of the body being sacrificed to the Under, along with the means to store uncountable legions in our shadows for easy access. But that- raising and commanding undead, was said to be the unscratched surface of our necromancy. As Grandpa Lich and Granny Raven stated, death magic was the paragon of magical warfare. Command over poisons- command over fear. Communion with the dead- command over them and reverence from them. Those things alone had the capabilities to make an individual¡¯s might and knowledge base comparable to that of a modest military or nation. But still, that was just the tip of our necrotic iceberg. With our power, came an ability to transfer life or a facsimile of it into whatever we pleased- not just the dead but ordinary matter, as was the case with the Necromentals and the critter I made with Eldritch Emergence. But with that power came a duty to uphold the rules of death.


    And above all of them were two laws.


    The first stated that, unless the shadow of death has been lifted by a deity''s blessing or a devil''s deal, a mortal whose time has run dry must have their soul reaped. Hence the hostility my family has shown Zorrenor for generations. As for the second, it implied that mortals were only allowed to become liches if they were approved by one of a few entities, with one of them being Nergal, who- we all assumed, was our ancestor. Such a thing would only make sense, after all. Having never met a lich other than my great-grandfather, however, it was a law I stored in the back of my mind. And so too did I store away the first rule for the time being, along with what I thought I knew about death magic and necromancy as a whole.


    With a blank, unbiased mind, I thought back on the claim I made to my ancestors and looked over to the weapons I created using God''s Craft. Two small sticks, a somewhat decent replication of my spear, and a pair of daggers stared back at me. Meanwhile, two words played over and over in my mind.


    Curses.


    Souls.


    Reaching out, I pulled the sticks into an orbit to give them a quick study. While a bit crude, they were absurdly dense and thus extremely heavy. Attributes of an effective weapon, but a weapon unable to be wielded by a vast majority of individuals. Under normal circumstances, I would¡¯ve assumed the only way around that flaw was with enchantments. In this case, however, I felt that some cursed techniques combined with my Arcana and maybe even a soul or two were worth a shot.


    Considering souls were what often gave inanimate objects sentience, I decided to start with the latter and played eenie, meeny, miny, moe to decide which type of soul to pick. Only to wind up picking one of each.


    With hands charged with shadow and death, I palmed my chest. Then felt my hands turn incorporeal and fall into my body, where they grasped around to catch a couple of lucky souls and pulled. From my flesh came two souls, one red and the other off-white, both screaming like newborns in completely opposing pitches. Rather than ordering them to be quiet, I smacked them into each other with a surge of necrotic energy. Not as a form of punishment, but to merge chaos and law into a single entity. A Gray Soul. Humanoid in appearance, yet a featureless ghost that floated before me with its head hung low.


    ¡°If you were to serve a new master, what type of person would you want that individual to be?¡± I asked it.


    In response, a period of silence seemed to stretch on for minutes and ended with a ghostly wail of inhaled air. ¡°One who seeks to master themselves, before they master another. One who is unhesitant to shed blood. Be it for retribution. Or mercy.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± I grasped the sticks in my free hand and simultaneously gathered death mana in my throat. ¡°You will be blessed with new life in the form of this weapon. In this state, you will catalyze the power I am to give you. In turn, you are to seek a bond with a worthy peer of mine and make your strength theirs.¡±


    ¡°At your command, my liege.¡± The soul began and finished in an ethereal groan of whispers and screams before it was pulled into the pair of sticks. As I held them, I felt a¡­ warmness emanating from them. Yet, there was something more. A feeling of anticipation. Of expectation. Of hope. The soul was eager to see what power I¡¯d bless it with.


    Conversely, I was eager to see who the soul would pick. But I knew being hasty would only yield a failed experiment, so I reaffirmed all I wanted it to do and prepared by funneling shadow mana into my throat. ¡°An unbreakable chain of phantom night shall make your two parts whole.¡± Pausing, I exchanged my shadow mana with time mana. ¡°The temporal loop imposed on your body shall give you permanence.¡± Then again with spatial mana. ¡°Sheltered by the energy flowing within your spirit.


    ¡°The foulness of your skin shall give your master the strength to wield you,¡± I said in the voice of the reaper. Then changed it up for the same voice that summoned Susanoo. ¡°While your volatile tongue keeps their enemies at bay.


    ¡°With your legs, you shall be free to both search for your master and plant your feet firmly for those who are unworthy.¡± With a final pause to disperse the gravity mana in my throat, I blended every ounce of arcana I had into my voice just before I released the sticks from my grasp. ¡°And with this body, you become the Accursedly Blessed Nunchaku: Ma''kruael!¡±


    The declaration of its name invoked a vortex that pulled on the dense mass of arcana gathered into my voice and sent it pouring into the weapon. Not only infusing it with great energy but reworking the surface into the image of the soul imbued within it. As the seconds ticked on, bits of stone began to fall away or condense to smooth and polish the rough surfaces into a set of almost glistening cylinders. Soon after, more bits of stone began falling away to form concentric rings around the pommels. Followed by more and more stone breaking away to reveal deep chasms that glowed with the same blue-green light as the arcana within my Well.


    Eventually, the cascade of falling stones ceased, revealing a stencil of ostentatious calligraphy that spelled ¡®Mercy¡¯ and ¡®Retribution¡¯ across a set of polished stone handles, connected by a thick chain of amorphous darkness.


    While it didn¡¯t say anything, I could sense one sensation- one feeling radiating from its being. Gratitude. And once it knew I¡¯d registered it, Ma''Kruael- or, in Common, Cruel Mercy disappeared into his pocket dimension, leaving me to wallow in my own sense of satisfaction. Up until the moment I noticed my grimoire still floating in front of me. Thus bringing my thoughts back to my last magical affinity- The Void.


    In itself, it was many things. But also nothing. It was indiscriminate destruction, which made for the ultimate sword and shield. No material in existence could¡¯ve halted its progression by even a millimeter; but, I wondered if its true nature was to simply destroy. In astrophysical terms, voids were vast regions of space containing a distribution of atoms even sparser than in intergalactic space. They were regions where between one and a few atoms could be found within a cubic meter of space, filled otherwise with various types of energy. In esoteric terms, the void was what existed before creation and what would exist after entropy had claimed the universe. But not just this universe. All universes, assumedly.


    After putting that into the context of magic, I held a hypothesis in my mind while sweeping a hand full of void mana over the wooden dummy. And without slowing in my stride, I stepped inside the bubble that swallowed the dummy whole. Just like any other time I stepped into the void, my body became¡­ detached from everything. I both felt as if I was both a single particle trapped in a vast emptiness and the emptiness itself. I was omnipresent in this void I created. Everywhere and nowhere all at once.


    Except for one place.


    Except for the space occupied by the wooden training dummy- a crude humanoid figure made of bark and vines.


    ¡°I think finally understand.¡± I gasped to myself. Sending deep echoes rippling through the limitedly endless space until they came back to me in the form of ideas and formulas and hypotheses and experiments. The void was the potential for creation. All universes- all realms, started and ended as voids. I- a sorcerer of the void, could create them where none existed- pockets of potential. The Shadow Realm- and perhaps the Darkworld and Underworld as well, all began as voids. They were all products of the Void. Of the Nox.


    Now, I realized. The Void- along with spatial magic, temporal magic and gravity, and nuclear and electromagnetic magic, was the answer to the biggest question I¡¯ve asked myself since deciding my purpose: How would I protect my friends, family, and allies from a realm away while I explored?


    The answer was simple. They¡¯d live in a place where no one could travel. A pocket universe for an empire. Or, if not that, worlds of paradise, housed in the center of a void.


    Regrettably, though, the creation of such a paradise or even the development of the necessary spells had to wait. For there was one other attribute I had yet to experiment with: Mana.


    However... ¡°Alright, that¡¯s it!¡± Zeff¡¯s claps came echoing throughout my dome. ¡°Lunchtime!¡±

 136 - Into the Mines

    ¡°Good morning, and welcome!¡± Olga turned with a smile the moment we entered her classroom. ¡°Come, come!¡± She waved us away from the forges and butchers'' tables to gather us around the dais on which she stood. ¡°I won¡¯t bore you with any lectures today. I¡¯ll only explain the rules and let you explore the mines to your heart¡¯s content. First, I must ensure that each of you understands the claim system.¡± She paused to look at each of us in turn. ¡°It essentially amounts to finders-keepers. Rights to a deposit are given to whoever finds it, though such rights will reset upon the end of each day.


    ¡°Furthermore, you are free to trade with each other and use the materials you¡¯ve found as you see fit.¡± She gave another pause to motion at the forges. Then brought our attention to the back of the room with a wave of her hand. ¡°You will find both a shop and your standard mining equipment next to the entrance. Now, if there are no questions, I ask that the students in the natural tier pair themselves into two-person groups and make their way down the shaft,¡± Olga said with a smile. Much to the dismay of the students.


    Nevertheless, they scattered from the platform to relocate at the far end of the room where they donned heavy rucks and retrieved their weapons, and peruse the few shopping crystals installed throughout the place before making their way down.


    ¡°As for the rest of you.¡± She turned about on her heels to scan the sparse crowd. ¡°You are free and encouraged to explore the mines solo. I want to remind you all that I have the means of retrieving you if the need arises. No matter how deep into the mines you go, your safety is paramount. So feel free to delve as far down as you like.¡±


    With another one of Olga¡¯s waves, the rest of the party scattered to shamble around the equipment racks. Deciding to wait for the crowd to die down, I perused the store to find a plethora of potions and enchanted tools meant to serve those stuck with their natural power. The most popular brew granted them night vision, of course, but other brews enhanced strength or stamina. There were also dimensional storage devices and a number of tools such as pickaxes with explosive tips. Or just explosives.


    Interesting, but nothing I actually needed.


    Much was the same for the rucks Olga dispensed on us. While nearly empty on the inside, there was a pickax, a length of rope, torches, tinderboxes, some rations, and a map fastened around the surface of a medium-sized canvas bag. As for the sole object in its interior, it was large in the palm of my hand but small in the sea of the bag''s interior. Like a large acorn or walnut that¡¯d been sanded down to have a flat surface and then painted to resemble a compass rose.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± Zakira bounced to my side, her gear rattling noisily across her back.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± I quickly unfurled the map to give it a quick scan. Finding a five-leveled complex that stretched beneath the root complex and courtyards on the surface. Through centuries of the academy¡¯s history, the first level was said to have been picked clean near the center. Leaving any sizable deposits scarce and scattered to the far edges of the level, and the second level was much the same. Though home to many small creatures that loved to attack from the shadows. As such, the third or fourth levels were the most lucrative bet for students. Nice deposits close to the lift and monsters that were just enough of a challenge for the average student meant success for anyone who delved that deep. The fifth level, however, was a dark pit filled with poisonous or stone beasts and insects that seemed to guard large deposits of precious metals like dragons to a hoard.


    ¡°Level five!¡± I grabbed Zakira by the wrist and turned about. ¡°I need as much iron and copper as I can get. Finding gold or silver or anything else will be great as well. But it¡¯s not my priority right now.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡± Zakira over-enthusiastically droned as she walked off towards the elevator. And, shaking my head, I trailed off behind her.


    The lift itself was unremarkable. Just a platform of stone powered by simple pulleys and chains. Making for a frustratingly slow ride that Zakira seemed to relish. Especially considering it was just the two of us. But while she was leaning against my shoulder thinking about¡­ something. My mind was turning. Brimming off the lingering high of a successful experiment. In effect, spawning within me a burning desire to create.


    I wanted to make things. Enchanted and runic things eventually, but I was content with cursed things for now. More so, I was feening to make more cursed weapons. I imagined a cursed rug, a cursed umbrella, a cursed keg, a whip, a chain and sickle, and more. But eventually, I ran out of ideas. Leaving me with one other option before we arrived at the bottom floor.


    I turned to Zakira, and she immediately lifted her head to look at me with those bulbous crimson eyes. ¡°Have you ever painted before? Or drawn?¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Zakira shoved me away with a deep gasp and a wide smile. ¡°I used to draw dicks on stuff, like, all the time.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I laughed. ¡°Was it fun? Like a hobby of yours?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and I was really good at it too!¡± She stepped forward. ¡°I can show you sometime.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± I turned away with a coy shrug. ¡°I was thinking of making you something, but I didn¡¯t know what. Until now.¡±


    ¡°Ooh!¡± She latched on my arm and began jumping up and down like a kid. ¡°What is it? What is it? What is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a cursed pen and notebook.¡± I smiled at her, then fought back my laughter once her eyes widened beyond belief. ¡°Or, it will be.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know what powers I¡¯ll give it yet, but I¡¯ll make it special. I promise.¡± Smiling, I patted her on the head. Prompting her to wrap me in her embrace until we arrived on the lower floor- a dank cavernous room with dozens of tunnels branching off in every direction.


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    Wasting no time, I released the Menagerie to have them scout the tunnels ahead. Then turned down an ambiguous path for a leisurely walk with Zakira. Though we weren¡¯t even a fraction of the way to the Darkworld, there was a stark resemblance to the environment that made it feel somewhat welcoming to me. Patches of bioluminescent fungus or moss provided the only light in the place. Scarce though that light was, it was enough to leave small pockets of blue or violet light like distant stars on the horizon. Overshadowed occasionally by the grayed rocky bodies moving in and out of view as we moved. The fauna was akin to the Darkworld as well. Filled with a chain of venomous creatures that attempted to strike at us from their perceived hiding places. Only to wind up smashed, drained of their fluids, or spasming on the ground after biting one more toxic than they.


    It hurt- their bites and stings, but it wasn¡¯t anything to panic or grimace about. On the contrary, it served as a means to add new recipes to my Poison Mimicry spell.


    After moving only a couple of hundred meters, I sensed a familiar humming emanating from the rock that I recognized as an iron deposit. And with the help of Zakira and my Doppelganger, it was mined out the old-fashioned way so as to not send too much of the material into the void. That said, I still used a domain of gravity magic to amass the ore into a small asteroid. Which only got exponentially larger as the Menagerie began to work the stone in their own ways.


    Once a large enough mass was gathered, I pulled the lighter rocks and dust away from the ore with a relatively weak Artificial Well and compacted the waste against the far wall. Then stuffed the recovered ore into my shadow, minus Zakira¡¯s share. With more than enough time to spare, we moved on to a copper deposit located by Skoll and fell into much the same rhythm for an hour and a half.


    Come lunchtime I had what I assumed was a literal metric ton of both copper and iron; and in my lust for more, I took a short break to eat a few strips of meat I hastily cooked with fire manipulation while I looked through Re: Armed to see what else I needed to procure. By far, I needed more iron than any other ore. As cast iron and steel of all types had invaluable uses in all facets of life. In the context of Re: Armed, I needed iron to make the majority of weapons I designed. Including a proper set of fans for Peter and some ball bearings for me. Next in line from that was copper. Which would obviously be used to make millions of meters of wires and cables, but would also be used to make large quantities of brass and bronze. Not so much for the sake of weapons but for the sake of art. I wanted to make saxophones, trumpets, trombones, and more. Plus a bell.


    Besides that, my plans necessitated an insurmountable need for gold, silver, and a variety of other precious metals. And it seemed I was in just the place to find them. Or rather, it seemed the academy was aware of this too and sought to give us the means to get them. That, combined with my power, implied that I could walk from here with a veritable hoard. But that first required me to make use of the other kind of hoard stashed away in my Pocket.


    [Peek Pocket Access: Folder - Corpses. Subfolder - Humanoids.]


    The folder opened in a burst of digital light. Revealing upon its dispersal, 180 virtual corpses in varying stages of decay. Some had their intestines strewn about or had their limbs bent in unnatural ways. Others were but husks, mere shells of their former selves.


    [Corvus Tower Harvest: (Soulless Corpses) - 107. Status: Frozen. (Soul-Linked Corpses) - 49. Status: On Standby.]


    [Hill Base Harvest: (Soulless Corpses) - 7. Status: Frozen. (Soul-Linked Corpses) - 17. Status: On Standby.]


    I was certain that Grandpa Lich expected me to raise the newly executed at Corvus Tower rather than store them in my Umbral dimension for so long. That and my reluctance to raise any of them until I found the proper candidate served to increase his frustrations as time went on- and Corvus¡¯ for that matter. Back then, I had no qualms with waiting as long as I needed to. Now, however, I was beginning to feel the same type of frustrations they were. Even if I were to split my undead into three units, I¡¯d still be left with sixty to mine and sixty to hunt while the last sixty stayed with me for safekeeping. I needed them. And come either this outing or the next, I would have them. Leaving me with my current task of surveying the many deposits found by the Menagerie.


    Since our arrival, hours ago. Many of them had made it to the perimeter of the compound and had started to either double back or circle around counterclockwise. Even the ones that managed to travel half as far, however, reported some sort of invisible border that kept the more dangerous creatures at bay. Naturally, it was there that large veins of gold, silver, and even electrum were found. Kilometers and kilometers away- a distance traveled in an instant with a bit of sorcery.


    We wound up spending the rest of class mining out the five deposits we found. With Zakira mining gold, my Doppelganger took to mining silver while I tended to the electrum deposit and occasionally darted between the three to move mass. The copper and iron on the other hand were handled by the Troops. Strengthened by the shadows, Stewie would bore around and through the deposit at strategic points- sending everything that fell through his gullet into my Shadow Pocket. Once done, Jake would crawl in and rapidly expand, sending faults through the vein that subsequently broke the wall apart into a cloud of dust, boulders, and chunks. From there, the ore was dealt with in a number of ways. Gero simply swallowed the stones whole. As did Chako, Orpheus, and Jima. Hatchi and Humphrey dealt with the quarry by shrouding the mass with a spray of umbral water or ink. And to assist the others, Blante the crab remained on standby, eager to snip any nearby boulder into a stone small enough to be eaten by the smaller critters.


    With around twenty minutes left, we gathered everything in my Pocket and took a quick flight to take a long ride up the lift. As I somewhat expected, the lift stopped at each floor going up. Making way for more and more students to drag their swelling bags onto the platform and sometimes throw us envious looks. Upon our return to the surface, Olga congratulated us on our quarries and dismissed us with nothing more than a ¡®see you next class.¡¯ In light of that, I told anyone who cared that there¡¯d be no training for the day. Then decided to join them in the cafeteria and gorge myself. One, because I was too worn out to cook my own food. Two, because cause I felt like I deserved it. And three, because I anticipated some sort of fuckery to arise during tomorrow¡¯s outing.


    Whatever it was- even if it were nothing, I needed as much energy as possible. So I ordered a large steak. As well as a leg of lamb with potatoes, something close enough to asparagus, and macaroni and cheese paired with a salad and bowl of Nonusian fruit. And I ate voraciously. Half paying attention to my party. even after they inquired about my behavior.


    Many of them seemed to adopt a similar mindset after I told them my line of thinking, ordering plate after plate for themselves. Only to offer their scraps to another once they had their fill. Causing jeers and cheers to fill the air once they took or denied the offer. And so, before long, the awkward atmosphere had turned into a jovial feast filled will laughter and smiles. Except in one place.


    Except for the face behind me. The doll-like one that sat to my left. Cradled in ink-black bangs that swayed gracefully as the head on which they were attached to swung from side to side. Accentuating the bulbous- almost bug-like eyes that gave longing stares at her peers gorging themselves.

 137 - Fuck-Fuck Games

    ¡°Good morning! And welcome to the first outing of the second quarter.¡± Doyle spread his arms out to his side, a curiously excitable grin stretched across his face while he motioned to the vined archway with his chin. ¡°There¡¯s no briefing today, so gather your gear and we¡¯ll go through.¡±


    As always, I permitted the party several minutes to take care of their last-minute needs before we stepped through what felt like a long corridor of twisting wood. Upon our emergence from the other side, we saw a verdant patch of forest that boasted no lakes or cliffs. Only mangroves and tall grasses met our eyes as we turned about this unfamiliar place. Except, of course, Doyle, who stood off to the side of us confused students with his arms crossed and a smug grin spread across his face.


    ¡°You won¡¯t be going to the Cove just yet,¡± he said. Pulling the student''s attention toward him in a way that nearly caused his ego to burst. ¡°Today, you and the other parties will be doing an attack-defend exercise. There will be three rounds, with one Party playing offense, one playing defense, and the last acting as a neutral force.


    "Each Party will have a VIP to defend.¡± He gestured to himself with both palms after a short pause to gauge our shock. ¡°The VIP must be guarded by no less than two people at all times. If the VIP is unguarded for 120 seconds, suffers three clean hits, or is captured, they are considered dead and the party loses the round. As for the neutral team, no one can attack them unless they attack first. This means they can spend their time recuperating after a large battle or make plans for the battle that¡¯s to come. How that time is spent is up to you.¡± He nodded to me. ¡°However, Cook Party will be playing defense first. You have two hours to prepare before the others begin the hunt. At that time, any and all magic is permitted.


    ¡°Just no killing any students or teachers.¡± He finished with a meek smirk. ¡°Any questions?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, can you tell me where we are? Or rather.¡± I snorted. ¡°Will you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Each party has been transported to a different corner of the Coyer* Swamp. A strip of land roughly ten by twenty kilometers in length.¡±


    ¡°Our arena, I presume?¡± Slate interjected, prompting a silent nod in reply from Doyle.


    ¡°Alright.¡± With a sigh, I reached into my sleeve to pull out a smoke. Then stepped away a bit for some relative peace. ¡°Let¡¯s see.¡± I sighed again, dispersing a cloud of smoke that lingered in the air before being swept away by the breeze.


    I had two hours to come up with a way to protect Doyle. Naturally, that¡¯d suggest finding a place to fortify and defend. Which in turn implied finding an easily defensible position such as a hill. A tall order in a swamp such as this, but I also had to consider where my opponents expected me to hole up. And again, where they wouldn¡¯t expect me to hole up. Naturally, the answer then was to find a place in the middle. But I also had fourteen other answers to consider. It was safe to presume that the opposition would assume the VIP would remain with either Winston or myself. He, who could protect Doyle in a barrier. And me, one of the strongest in the class. Urshure was a good option as well. Though I had doubts he wished to carry anyone with his wings. Only prey.


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    All things considered, I had a plan for protecting Doyle, which left the question of where to set up our post. And it didn¡¯t take long to find a solution. But its viability depended on Doyle¡¯s answers. And so, with a flick, I sent my roach flying into my Pocket and approached the silver-haired man. ¡°First, can we separate the team members? Second, can we conduct reconnaissance during this time?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But the VIP has to stay with at least two people. And yes.¡± He nodded. ¡°Recon is a part of finding a defensible position, no?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah. I get it.¡± I waved. Then poured a bit of mana into my shadow behind me.


    With their massive paws slamming into the ground, the two dire wolves trotted out from either side of me to stretch and yawn before they noticed the crowd of students before them. Then they both grew eerily still and stared at them through the crimson orbs of their eyes.


    ¡°So you do have summons!¡± Scarlett approached Hati with an open palm. And surprisingly, the shadow beast leaned into her hand after only a few sniffs.


    ¡°If they count as summons.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°They definitely are.¡± Doyle chuckled with dry envy and stared at Scarlett for a long moment.


    ¡°Where¡¯d you summon them from? Do they have names?¡± Scarlett asked. And much of the party stepped forward in anticipation. Save Urshure¡¯s squad, who were dragged a couple of meters away to ¡®discuss¡¯ a plan.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t summon them. I captured them a few years ago,¡± I said, turning away from Team 3. ¡°They were wild animals, changed into magical beasts by my mana. So they¡¯re not pets. But still companions.¡±


    Despite my logic, most of the students and even Doyle himself groaned in exacerbation. The latter even went so far as to give himself a facepalm that out-competed any of Zeff¡¯s claps by leaps and bounds. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s beside the point.¡± Doyle stepped forth, stammering as he reached to place his hand on my shoulder. Or tried to reach. Only to be stopped by the deep growl of the two wolves. ¡°This is only possible because of your Sorcery. They¡¯re magical beasts now. Your magical beasts. What are their names?¡±


    ¡°This one is Hati.¡± I nodded, looking at the snow-white wolf. ¡°And this is Skoll.¡± I finished, turning to the umbral black wolf. "Anyway.¡± I summoned another troop with a flutter of my arm, revealing a black barn owl, looking out at the world through starry eyes. ¡°This is Pora Bora. She¡¯ll be with me. Skoll will be with team one, along with Zakira and Els.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Elsgril Silverforge to you!¡±


    ¡°Slate will be with team three. Both teams will be decoys. You¡¯ll need to build a convincing outpost and stay on the lookout for any attackers. And, Peter.¡± I turned to him. ¡°You¡¯re with me and Doyle. That¡¯s all. Depart when ready.¡±


    While some of them were confused or even anxious about my orders and the prospect of fighting the other parties. More of them had eager grins plastered across their faces. Especially the scarred and grizzled face of Doyle Wolfgang.


    ¡°I hope you show me something interesting, Amun.¡±


    ¡°Just stay close to me and don¡¯t give away our position,¡± I smirked at him. ¡°And try not to blink.¡±

 138 - Hide and Seek

    Lance Morningstar.


    ***


    ¡°I hope Zeff will be alright with team two.¡± Sighing under my breath, I turned back to scan the path ahead. Not long after, the creeping feeling of hot breath against my flesh crawled over my neck and shoulders. A prelude to Rhot¡¯s hissing tongue. ¡°They will be fine until we makes our move.¡± With a sharp reptilian click, the scaled humanoid slithered off the path to kneel behind a tree and rapidly flick his tongue about.


    ¡°You seem awfully worried, Lance.¡± Silva boomed from the rear. ¡°An unsettling sight, coming from an Angel.¡±


    ¡®Am I really that powerful though?¡¯ I snorted. ¡®I wasn¡¯t blessed with other affinities like the rest of you. Only more light.¡¯


    A red blur cut my thoughts short. It was Snusz, motioning to an emplacement of raised stone sitting just over three hundred meters ahead. He had good eyes. Especially for a kobold.


    Darting through the brush in front of the others, I came up to their position to take a quick peek through the brush. ¡°What do you sssee?¡± Rhot hissed.


    ¡°Winston¡¯s there!¡± Smeal erupted in a strange smile. ¡°Probably guarding Mr. Wolfgang, he is.¡±


    ¡°And that vampire Amun is always with is standing guard at the entrance,¡± I muttered. ¡°I don¡¯t see him or the meek one though.¡±


    ¡°Tch!¡±


    ¡°Is Doyle there?¡± Snusz asked, ignoring the sudden outburst from Smeal. ¡°Amun?¡±


    ¡°No, Silentjaw.¡± Silva gave Snusz a gentle pat. ¡°He is not.¡±


    ¡°I say we withdraw,¡± I said, invoking questioning or offended gazes from Rhot and Smeal. ¡°If Doyle¡¯s not here, he¡¯s either underground or elsewhere. Either way, we should wait for the assaulting team to find them first before revealing our- Move!¡±


    Silva pounced before I could even shout, leaping forth to hook Rhot and Snusz under his arms and rocket into the air just before a deafening crack split the air around us. Centered in a crater- which in turn was centered where Rhot was just standing, was the fist of the vampire girl, staring at us with glowing crimson eyes with her lips curled into a sickening grin. Then, a dense surge of mana swirled and bloomed within her.


    I turned without hesitation. ¡°Retreat!¡±


    Frozen in place, Smeal could only look at the vampire with wide eyes. All but forcing me to pivot on my feet and reach out for his collar. On contact, I released the pool of mana held within and focused on our rendezvous point. And an instant later, we were back in the clearing we¡¯d started down just over an hour ago.


    ¡°That was¡­ ugh!¡± Smeal released himself from my grasp to stagger away and, after getting his bearings, stagger again. ¡°What the fu- Hey!¡±


    Another crash followed his shout. Though this one was larger and more energetic, yielding a wider and much deeper crater that housed Silva and the two reptilians.


    ¡°What iss the plan?¡± Rhot shouted as he slithered off the giant. ¡°The girl will be able to pursue uss now.¡±


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    ¡°No.¡± I shook my head. ¡°She knew what team we belong to. That¡¯s why she didn¡¯t hit any of us.¡±


    ¡°So then-¡±


    Another boom cut Smeal short. A louder, more thunderous one that seemed to rock the swamp as a whole. Sending a shockwave of pure worry over me that carried winds of horrific realization.


    ¡°Team Two!¡± Rushing forward, I wrapped Snusz and Rhot under one arm and grasped Smeal with the other before motioning for Zeke to follow. Then blinked over to the source at lightspeed.


    Wasting no time upon arriving, I released everyone and jumped to the nearest cover to survey the landscape. To my eyes, it was hardly any different from where we just left. Everywhere I looked sat massive plants and colossal trees with finger-like roots reaching into the surrounding waters, half-concealed by a blanket of thick fog hanging above the surface.


    ¡°Ugh¡­ it¡¯s so hot.¡± Smeal complained.


    ¡°I sssmell sssomething.¡± Rhot clicked and went on to chatter away with Snusz before they both waded out into the swamp. Within seconds, they were meters away from me and Smeal. Meanwhile, Silva was nowhere to be found.


    ¡°Ugh! I hate when he just leaves like that.¡± Smeal sulked. ¡°Them too!¡± He spat towards those ahead.


    ¡°Shh.¡± I pointed through the dispersing fog.


    All around us was sheer chaos. Or rather, its aftermath. Blackened or sometimes flaming trees peered through the fog to greet us as we moved. Each step- every few meters traveled brought a new edition of the same hellish scene. A scene of smoldering trees and upturned earth, boiling stagnant water, and billowing columns of ashen steam.


    ¡°An elemental battle?¡± Smeal asked.


    ¡°Yes. But between who, is the question.¡± I sighed.


    The only attackers capable of using fire on this scale were Roheisa, any of the Striflings, or Ash. As far as defenders went, there was the brunette girl I spotted in the gym before and the meek kid often seen with Amun. And, obviously, Amun himself.


    ¡°Would you happen to know where Issac¡¯s team is?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Probably wandering around like us.¡± Smeal shrugged. ¡°Why, you think he fought here? Cause ole Issac ain¡¯t strong enough to do this.¡± He took another gaze around, chuckling all the while.


    ¡°I was thinking more along the lines of Vlorlyn.¡± I pointed to the soaked trees. ¡°She¡¯s the only one who could conjure this much water.¡±


    ¡°Dunno about that.¡± Smeal snorted. ¡°Ed and Jaimess¡¯ elemental abilities are quite scary, to be honest. Can¡¯t say that surprises me though.¡± He finished with a mutter under his breath.


    ¡°Why not?¡± I stepped towards him.


    ¡°Cause they¡¯re infamous Amun of Odissi¡¯s vassals.¡± He shook as head as if he were confused. ¡°Oh, come on!¡± He recoiled with a laugh. ¡°You¡¯re a royal yourself and you haven¡¯t seen it? The ways they speak and carry themselves, they¡¯re like mirror images of him.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± I muttered. Jaimess and Edward were indeed more skilled in the elemental arts than anyone else in our party. If they learned their technique from Amun, then the chances of Amun¡¯s party being capable of this feat was high, to say the least. ¡°Thanks. But your observation only makes things more difficult.¡±


    Or rather, it made it nearly impossible to tell who did this and what we were walking into. It only broadened the pool of potential opponents awaiting us in this swampy pit. Further reducing my odds of coming up with a formidable plan, in turn causing my mind to recess back into the same worried state I felt earlier.


    That worry compounded when Snusz and Rhot waded to a halt up ahead, forcing my eyes to widen and focus on their backs in an attempt to calm myself. Still having over twenty meters between us, however, I forced myself forward quicker. I pushed through the viscous waters, my ears straining against the stinging silence in order to hear something. Anything. But alas, I heard nothing until I approached the still backs of Snusz and Rhot, floating like gators in the murky waters.


    ¡°Ahead.¡± Rhot hissed. ¡°I sssmell Doyle.¡±


    ¡°Aw shit!¡± Smeal drew his weapon with a subdued gasp.


    ¡°And who else?¡±


    Lifting his scaled snout, Rhot drew in three powerful breaths. ¡°Two more smellssss.¡± He dropped back into cover. ¡°Unknown bodiessss.¡±


    ¡®Well, we¡¯re already here.¡¯ I nodded him forward with a sigh.


    Almost eagerly, Rhot swam forth with Snusz following close behind him. Looking ahead of their trajectory, I tried my best to see what it was they sensed or smelled but I saw only water. Even as they slowed and dispersed to circle an ordinary patch of water, I sensed nothing. I saw nothing- other than the lizardfolk and kobold, creeping forward at a snail''s pace.


    ¡°Ack!¡± As one they lunched back and dove forward. Toothy maws open wide in an effort to chew threw Doyle and whoever it was guarding them.


    And then, it hit me.


    ¡°Run!¡±

 139 - Played

    ¡°Cha haha!¡± Giggling like a schoolgirl, Doyle kicked off a tree trunk to soar to the next pillar of mossy bark and turned back to me once he landed. ¡°This will never get old!¡±


    My eyes rolled. ¡°Glad to see you¡¯re having fun.¡±


    With the murky waters to our right and the endless sky to our left, we¡¯d been traveling through the swamp for nearly three hours. Skipping from tree trunk to trunk like certain ninjas from a certain fictional village while Pora Bora soared overhead, searching for the other party¡¯s encampments. Accompanying us was nothing but the gleeful laughs from Doyle and the ever-present symphony of life echoing around us. The croaking of frogs, the splashing of fish or other aquatic creatures, the call of waterfowl. Combined, the orchestra completed the vibrant painting of the biome in which we found ourselves. A swamp that was so verdantly rich that a part of me felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of ruining it with a magical fight.


    But on the other hand, there was beauty in chaos as well. And none could spread it better than my favorite vampire.


    Either from her or someone else, chaos arose not but two minutes ago. It was a crash against stone coupled with a few screams and a flash of bright light. A small seed, it was. The final cog needed to set my plans into motion. And so, with one eye closed, I used my shared sight with Pora Bora to position ourselves between Baker Party¡¯s camp and Lance¡¯s team, who were talking amongst themselves in the forest.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I waved Doyle and Peter to my side. ¡°The camp is roughly circular. Fortified with walls of raised stone and felled trees. Pora Bora can only see a few people there, but Zeff is indeed one of them. Now, Lance is out hunting us.¡± I pointed in the opposing direction. ¡°However, the condition for us to attack the neutral team hasn¡¯t been met, correct?¡± I turned to Doyle.


    ¡°Correct.¡± He nodded.


    ¡°An easy fix.¡± I grinned.


    Ignoring their objective confusion, I dropped our altitude to just above the surface. Then had Peter help me push and peel the water away from us to form a small depression. After making a small spatial domain, for us to dwell in, I lowered the three of us inside and loosened my hold on the water, causing a wall of brackish muck to cascade around us and eventually settle into a cocoon of sticks and mud.


    Reaching up, I peeled the top of the bubble open. Allowing a cone of light to pour in and illuminate the glistening faces of my companions. ¡°Alright. Go make some noise, Peter.¡± I turned to him, smiling. ¡°Use your strongest spells to make it look like a battle took place here. Do as much as you can in five seconds and come down.¡±


    With only a nod, Peter infused his body with Tornado Mana and took to the air. Doyle occupied his space at once and tried his best to peer above the mud wall and see Peter flinging boulders at imaginary targets or changing the water levels whilst he simultaneously torched the place with his blue fire until five seconds passed. Then he descended into our whole with naught a look back.


    ¡°Perfect.¡± I grinned at him. ¡°Excellent work.¡±


    With the bait set, I closed the opening of our hiding point to a pinhole, relegating Doyle and Peter to squint and squirm in place in an attempt to see anything while I turned my focus to our surroundings.


    The senses. Mana. The Menagerie. The minute distortions of space-time and the minuscule gravitational waves spreading across the universe at the speed of light. The darkness and the various wavelengths of electromagnetic radiation. I let it all flow through my perception and into my consciousness to be assimilated with the Eye. Then projected it back out in the form of a mental map- a moving 3-D chessboard filled with miniature caricatures of everyone involved. At its center, was us. And, just a few squares away, was a group of four. Two humans standing behind two reptilians, chattering away in a cacophony of clicks and rattles.


    Then they took to the waters.


    They waded forth, heading in our direction at a pace that belied even their reptilian natures. Within moments, they crossed the few hundred meters to our position, coming to a stop just twenty or so meters away. Well within the range of my natural senses, so I lessened the focus on my passives in favor of focusing on my ears.


    While they were completely immobile- half-submerged like an alligator drifting in the waters, the angel and the human waded in as if they wanted to announce their presence to all the realms. They talked and stomped through the place as if they were taking a stroll through the hub. As things went, that enabled me to glean a couple of things from the one-sided conversation. Notably, there was one observation that had the potential to complicate things, but it was something we just had to roll with.


    ¡°Ahead.¡± I heard the lizard say. ¡°I sssmell Doyle.¡±


    Turning, I pointed through the muck to make note of our pursuers. Without making a noise, Doyle and Peter shuffled behind me to begin preparing themselves with mana veils and primed Wells. Not wanting to blow my cover, I refrained from withdrawing any arcana. Instead, I held my palms out towards the two sources of mass waddling towards us. Then began the wait.


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    When two seconds passed, the peerless silence began to sting at us. Peter began shifting uncomfortably, and the first of what I assumed would be many dry swallows came from Doyle. The second and third seconds were silent. The fourth brought a gulp once more. At five, a small ripple came across our sphere of mud and water, and I leaned forward at once, withdrawing but a shard of arcana to force it into my throat.


    But before I could even open my mouth, a familiar voice shouted from further ahead. ¡°Run!¡±


    ¡°Too late!¡±


    As if a frag-less grenade went off, my gravity-charged voice blasted away the muck that surrounded us in a powerful shockwave. Having their mana veils up in full force, my companions and our two guests remained unscathed, thus keeping us from going weapons hot until one of them- a red-scaled Lizalfolk, lashed out with his claws while his kobold companion spun- barking and snarling as he furiously clawed at the ground in an attempt to escape.


    With my hands still raised, I opened Susanoo¡¯s seal for but a millisecond and channeled the energy through my hands, releasing arcs of crackling blue-white energy from my fingertips to pour into the reptiles and flash fry as many of their organs as possible before the enchantments in their clothes embraced them in a protective cocoon.


    With them being dragged by vines up into the canopy, I wrapped Space-Time mana around my arm to activate the Chrono Dial before wheeling around towards the other two. I managed to see it just as I turned halfway about; Lance disappearing in a flash of light. In his place- about twenty meters away and slumped over a branch was his companion. One of Winston¡¯s accomplices, a brown-skinned boy who was currently scared shitless.


    Turning my attention away from him, I flicked my arm counterclockwise like I was readjusting my watch and turned as time crept down to a standstill. ¡°As I thought.¡± I laughed. Hearing the echoes upon echoes of my voice spreading throughout the still world threatened to pull my thoughts away from my observation, if only for a moment, so I redoubled my focus. The spell was taxing on my Well, vast though it was. But completely halting time was a marvel to my eyes all the same. And it would remain so no matter how many times I saw it, for the world it made me privy to was beauty unbridled.


    Doyle¡¯s awe. Peter¡¯s anxiousness. Zeke Smeal¡¯s fear. Their emotions were captured in an intensity that could¡¯ve only been described as primal. Authentic. But the radiant pillar that existed between the four of us was something else. Not divine. But¡­ stellar. As his name implied, Lance Morningstar appeared as just that. A star. Blinding light, searing heat, and a bloom of infrared and UV radiation poured from his skin at an intensity that rivaled Tiatus itself. Yet, it was contained. It was... hindered. Halted from burning the plants and blinding his teammates.


    But even then. Here, in this slowed world, he was frozen in place just like everyone else.


    Besides me of course.


    Before I wasted any more arcana, I flicked a spatial bullet towards Smeal to first tag him with a Beacon and then used Body Swap to switch our positions. Then turned to look at Lance, halfway into a swing aimed at the place I¡¯d been, and where Smeal was now. After Bamfing my companions to my side, I flicked my wrist clockwise. Bringing back the color and dynamic environment of this vast swamp in an instant.


    In the next instant, an ear-shattering blast of light and heat nearly blew us all away. As if a meteor struck the ground, a powerful shockwave slammed into the three of us and I turned, pausing only to hear a scream of despair ring through the air before I turned the Dial halfway down, coated Dark Space mana around the three of us, and Bamfed us to Pora Bora¡¯s location. Then I was faced with the hard part.


    As if he¡¯d been waiting for me, the giant of a man, Zeke Silva, pounced right towards me with his arm reeled back. Even with time slowed, he accelerated through the air. Using some type of mana I¡¯d never felt before to cross the distance between us in the blink of an eye. Even with that speed, however, Silva wasn¡¯t fast enough. Shuffling quickly, I maneuvered around to his side to first cast Black Bones. Then, with Terminal Ferocity activated, I lashed out at Zeke with gravity-accelerated fists.


    Once, twice, thrice. Cavernous blows echoed through the unsaturated world just before Silva¡¯s hulking body reeled back. His eyes- gray and beastly, turned slowly towards me with a curious glint before he was flung away. And then I scrammed.


    Dragging Doyle by a gravitational tether, I sprinted deeper into the fray. Only to grind to a halt after but a few steps. Moving comically slowly, the members of Baker Party reacted. Scattering to form an array of protective lines between me and their VIP- Zeff Yurich. Closest to me were three that I felt the strong impulse to fight. Ed, Corundum, and the angry dwarf who rode with us on the Bifrost.


    Growling in disdain, I ascended and flicked out a mass of shadow arcana in Zeff¡¯s direction. Upon contact, I released the Chrono Dial and instead, sent out a wave of gravitational energy. Like a gust of purple air had blown away the mist of silence, my domain fell into effect just as their shouts befell my ears. Most of the party turned about at once, swiveling their heads in search of me while Silva wheeled about as fast as he could, hunching himself low in preparation to jump.


    With a downward thrust of my hand, Silva dropped to his knees and the line of strong ones before me assumed the same position. The others, being far weaker, fell helplessly to their faces or crumpled like a sack of potatoes the moment gravity increased.


    ¡°The fuck!?¡±


    ¡°What is this?!¡±


    ¡°Where is he!?¡±


    ¡°Mr. Yurich?!¡±


    Came the screams. But the only reply from Zeff was a scream of his own, increasing their panic tenfold. They plowed their faces through the dirt and sometimes cracked or dislocated their limbs just to take a peek. And upon doing so, let out horrific screams in kind.


    As if a flower had bloomed beneath Zeff¡¯s feet, twelve Umbral Arms could be seen emerging from a pit below him. Reaching up like an eldritch abomination, they writhed and lashed out to snap branches from trees and shatter stone outcroppings before they reeled down to snake around their prey in a deadly embrace. Turning halfway about, I held my arms out to either side to take note of Peter''s location before casting Dark Space Bullets on him and Doyle.


    As they hit, a chorus of expanding air swelled through the environment. At that moment, I turned to the rest of Baker Party with a wide grin and released my domain. I couldn¡¯t help but laugh after the gravity holding them down was lifted. They scrambled to their feet, flinging everything from stones to spells in my direction as the clouds of darkness began to engulf us.


    Almost as if I couldn¡¯t help it, I found myself pushing my arm through the dark cloud before we disappeared. With my fingers clenched tightly- all but the middle one, I laughed at the lot of them before I Bamfed us out, leaving my words to echo in the shadows. ¡°You lose.¡±

 140 - Magic Brawl

    ¡°You¡¯re dead.¡±


    Smirking, I watched my Umbral Arms dissipate to release a flustered Zeff. ¡°Yes, I can see that.¡± He swept at his clothes before lifting his eyes. Then turned, slack-jawed after seeing the faces of my party staring back at him. ¡°To merge spatial magic with darkness.¡± He gasped, almost to himself. ¡°Fascinating.¡±


    ¡°This concludes the match.¡± Doyle stepped in with a groan and a wave towards his peer. ¡°Congratulations, Copper Party. You win.¡±


    While I couldn¡¯t help but grin, a confused cheer rose throughout the scattered crowd. Thankfully, Doyle was the one who stepped in to clear up the air.


    ¡°Let me explain.¡± He bared his palms. ¡°Or rather, I¡¯ll allow the other teams to explain what happened first.¡±


    Duke stepped forward almost immediately, waving his talons through the air like open hands. ¡°We were attacked by members of Apple Party. But upon realizing their target was nowhere to be found, they fled.¡±


    ¡°Same!¡± Zakira chimed in. ¡°A really bright guy tried to sneak in, then ran away when I attacked him. Like a little bitch.¡± She muttered under her breath.


    ¡°Well, Amun guided us to the swamp, where he set up some bait by having Peter simulate a battle.¡± Doyle beamed, mostly at Zeff. ¡°Rhot and Snusz came to investigate. And Amun masterfully utilized the element of surprise to probe them into attacking. Those two went down as casualties in Amun¡¯s counterattack. And then¡­¡± Doyle squinted and shook his head as if his memory was sparse. ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened. I was warped and there was an explosion.¡±


    ¡°Then Zeke Smeal went down.¡± Zeff completed his words with a nod, then auspiciously turned his gaze just as Winston fell towards him.


    ¡°W- what? Zeke?¡±


    ¡°After that, everything was a blur.¡± Doyle continued, paying little mind to Winston. ¡°One moment, everyone¡¯s pinned to the ground. The next, we¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Care to explain your actions for the rest of the party?¡± Zeff sidled towards me, throwing out hopeful nudges of his elbow all the while.


    ¡°No.¡± I shrugged him off.


    ¡°Well.¡± Doyle chuckled in response to Zeff¡¯s ensuing pout. ¡°Due to your efforts. Each member of Copper party is hereby awarded seven hundred fifty points. Five hundred for successfully defending and two-fifty for turning a defensive role into an offensive one. Amun?¡± He then turned to me. ¡°You¡¯re awarded an additional five hundred for defeating Rhot and Snusz, plus one hundred twenty-five for executing such an elaborate plan without any hiccups.¡±


    Trying my hardest to conceal my smirk, I lowered my head just a degree. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Take lunch for now.¡± Doyle stepped off with a wave. ¡°After an hour, we¡¯ll wait another hour to give the defensive team some time to get into position. Copper Party will be the neutral team this round. What you decide to do is up to you.¡±


    Once they were out of earshot, I turned my attention to the others. ¡°Alright.¡± I clapped as a form of applause. ¡°Excellent work, everyone! Before we take lunch, I¡¯ll tell you of my plans for the next round. Essentially, I want to capitalize on us being the neutral team and preserve our strength for the following round.¡± While pausing to gauge their reactions, I couldn¡¯t help but laugh at the dropped faces of Slate and Kao off to the side. Hopefully, though, they¡¯d be reassured by what¡¯s to come.


    ¡°Due to the quick engagements of the last round and the fact that our defensive role is over. The party is still in prime fighting shape. The same couldn¡¯t be said for the other parties. Apple, who spent their time searching for me and Doyle. And Baker, who had a short skirmish with me. That should remain true into the last round when we go on the offensive.¡±


    ¡°And how will we do that?¡± Samson asked.


    ¡°After this last round, it¡¯s safe to assume the attacking Baker Party will keep their VIP close to home.¡± I motioned to a departing Zeff. ¡°A side effect of warping him here means I¡¯m able to track his location. So I plan to tail him in the hopes that both VIPs will be on the same battlefield.¡±


    ¡°Killing two birds with one stone,¡± Rhody mumbled into his hand as he rubbed his chin. "And we''re cheating? I like it."


    ¡°Ugh! A horrible practice.¡± Duke chirped. "Stones ruin the meat."


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I snorted. ¡°As they say, if you ain''t cheating you ain''t trying. The plan this round won¡¯t be to win. It¡¯s to sow chaos and wreak havoc. But we also wish to preserve our strength so not everyone will be going. I need Urshure and Zakira to accompany me. In the meantime, we¡¯ll take lunch and build a concealed hideout for the rest of you to occupy while we¡¯re gone. Any questions?¡± I did a quick scan of the eager or placid faces. ¡°Alright.¡± I clapped again. ¡°Dismissed.


    ¡°Oh!¡± I shouted. Bringing most of the scattering crowd back in seconds. ¡°I almost forgot. If a storm appears out of nowhere- one that doesn¡¯t have my mana signature, scream my name into the darkness. That¡¯s all. Dismissed.¡±


    ---


    ¡°Alright, here¡¯s the plan. Even if Zeff or Doyle isn¡¯t with the rest of the attacking team, I have a few others tagged as well. When we arrive on sight, stay hidden until they start fighting. If they¡¯re already fighting upon our arrival, wait until I give the signal. When I do, we¡¯ll contain everyone in a ring of fire.¡± I gestured to Urshure. ¡°After that, it¡¯ll get dark. That¡¯s when I want you to jump in.¡± I motioned to Zakira. Behind you will be the Menagerie, and-¡±


    ¡°The what?¡± Zakira flippantly asked.


    ¡°My summons.¡± I sighed. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ll spawn everyone¡¯s Doppelgangers after that. Then we¡¯ll spread as much chaos as possible. Sound good?¡±


    ¡°It is acceptable.¡± Urshure regally nodded.


    Meanwhile.


    ¡°Sounds Fun!¡± Zakira beamed. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I had good blood!¡±


    ¡°Yeah I b-¡±


    Cutting me off was a pulse of mana that spread from the southwest. Followed by another, and another shockwave of potent mana. Some familiar, some foreign.


    The others- feeling it themselves, wheeled around at once to stare in the general direction with wide eyes. But only I could see it. The expanding domes and firework displays of mana. In every color of the rainbow, they flashed. Electric blue, infernal red, solar yellow, and all the unnatural colors as well. Closing my eyes, I turned my focus toward it and opened up my map to see the cluster of small caricatures whizzing across the 3D board. As I presumed, both VIPs were present on the battlefield. Albeit as far as possible from the line, contained around the fields of potent mana we were sensing.


    It wasn''t worth the time to pursue. Not without completely breaking the game at least. But that would come later. So I wheeled back around to grasp my companions by the shoulder and Bamfed us to the AO without delay.


    We arrived at an unremarkable area. A field of tall grasses and a few trees some 150 meters in radius, give or take. Prime real estate for a battle such as this. And like many battlefields, the combat extended far above and, on occasion, deep below. Every powerhouse in Class 999 was found within, other than the whole of Copper Party, of course. Like the contenders in a savage rugby game, each was arranged and engaged against their enemies, seeking to do as much damage to the other as possible on their way to the VIP.


    For Apple Party, their ¡®goalie¡¯ was Roheisa, a red-skinned, amber-haired Strfiling. Both stood on either side of Olga with scrutinizing eyes held on the battlefield. The rest of them were scattered out in a cone before them, save Toril and Lucia dominating the sky and a few other notable individuals holding the line. Baker Party was much the same, with Silva, Jaimess, and the half-orcs surrounding Doyle while Lance, Bazzric, and a few Amazonians tried their best to keep the other powerhouses at bay.


    And then there was us. A winged dragonborne, a royal vampire, and an elven devil.


    Crouched in shadows at the edge of such an intense battlefield, our presence remained unknown to our playmates. But that would only last for a few seconds once we stepped from beneath the veil.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I turned to Urshure. ¡°We won¡¯t have much time. So, fly as fast as possible and maintain the burn. I¡¯ll meet you in the middle.¡±


    Sneering, we waved himself away to perch atop a nearby branch. Then turned an expectant gaze back to me.


    ¡°Go!¡± Signed.


    In a soft boom of air, the two of us flew off in different directions. Not soon after, I heard a roaring stream of white flames erupt from my left. Following it, came an intense heat that distantly bit at my exposed hand as I reached it out, pinky and forefinger extended like a rockstar to spit out a powerful torch of blue-white fire.


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    Through my peripherals, I saw Urshure keeping up with my pace. Following alongside me over three hundred meters away while a line of forage ignited into a burning plume beneath him. The twin infernos swelled, reaching out to engulf any nearby brush or trees. Only for them to die down to a smoldering ember. Turning, I saw a chain of ash and smoke cascading down the embers toward their sources- toward us.


    Wasting no time, I increased the flow of air into my torch and flicked some shadow mana into it with my free hand. Then watched with glee as the Flames of Moil spread through the embers, reigniting the ring in violet flames of abyssal cold. Before any of them could react, I threw more mana into the ascending clouds of darkness. Then thrust my hands behind me to unfurl a carpet of shadows behind me.


    Without waiting for any orders, Zakira leaped into action. And behind her came an abyssal rat followed by an ink-black rabbit. Then a fox, two wolves, a snake, and every other member of the Menagerie.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I grinned to myself and kicked off my perch.


    Accelerating under the influence of an Artificial Well brought me through the violet flames at breakneck speed. But even then, I felt an object cutting through the ambient mana on an intercept course. Reaching my hand out, I managed to capture an arrow in my domain just before it made contact and dragged it into an orbit. Under the relentless force of gravity, the wood composing the arrow began to creak as it wheeled around on an escape trajectory around the body that was me. Whizzing through the air, it opened a hole through the oppressive smoke. Revealing for just an instant, an elf scrambling out of the way of his own arrow.


    ¡®Hmph.¡¯ I smirked, then amassed shadow mana into my throat and shouted. ¡°Doppelgangers, rise!¡±


    Before the darkness could even begin to amass beneath him, the elf rolled to his feet and drew another arrow. Reflexively, I raised my hand in preparation to counter but in one swift motion, he swept his bow around and released an arrow behind a pulse of mana. With an almost artistic grace, it sliced through the air to embed itself in Urshure¡¯s wing. Causing the hulking draconian to tumble out of control and plummet helplessly to the ground.


    But upon landing, his wrath could be felt by all.


    Deciding to enter the fray, I spawned my Doppelganger and made an underhanded throw in the opposite direction. As if I¡¯d bowled the pieces onto a clump of darkness, the plates of my Abyssal Armor tumbled and seamlessly clicked into place until the form of a small, armored devil was complete. The Phantom Knight.


    ¡°Here.¡± I threw my daggers to my clone and my spear to the Knight. ¡°You play with the elf. And you, the half-demon.¡±


    Somewhat confused, my clone turned towards the end of my gaze and immediately rocked back in understanding. ¡°Ah. The Storm Thief.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Already knowing the outcome, I lunged forward in the air to race towards Toril and flipped Susanoo¡¯s switch. Upon feeling the surge of energy, nearly everyone froze in place to turn in my direction. Auspiciously increasing those to witness Toril swing his arm overhead with no hesitation. Extended from his grip was his weapon of the same name: an intricate hand axe with a curiously long handle, inlaid with gold atop a gray metal that carried arcs of crackling electricity over it at an ever-increasing pace until it culminated in a strong pulse. And like a great hand had reached into my spirit, I felt the unruly energies of Susanoo be settled in my body.


    Now holding the power of my electricity, the Storm Thief pulled his axe back and lunged, preparing to make contact with my staff arcing straight towards him.


    Our clash shocked the very skies, reverberating against the ground back-breaking shock waves of electrons and mana scattering in every direction. And between it all was me and Toril, grinning madly at each other while we attempted to overpower the other. An easy effort for Toril against this eleven body of mine. Even then, however, Toril decided against wasting any more energy and pulled mana from his Well to spread a line of burning bubbles between us.


    And then came Toril¡¯s laugh.


    Letting out a laugh of my own, I withdrew the smallest fraction of arcana from my well, sent it through my own fiery core, and released it toward the sky. Being immune to explosions, heat, and light, Toril and I were flung in opposite directions- him towards the ground, to crash into a few trees until he infused his body with Gas Magic while I rocketed into the sky.


    As I rose, a clear picture of the chaos we¡¯d created started to form. Zakira and Urshure were in the center of the ring of dark fire, having fun and rampaging against the small fries until Roheisa, Silva, or someone else stepped in to drive them away. And elsewhere, a myriad of battles similar to the one between me and Toril were taking place. It was... beautiful. But the picture wasn¡¯t complete yet. And so I took my spear back from the Phantom Knight and raised it overhead. I formed a stream of arcana and split it in two, sending one through my core of night and the other through my charged core. And when they fused on the other side, they poured from my frame as Purple Lightning.


    Into my spear, my Purple Lightning flowed. Rippling, dancing across the blade until it began to glow with a violet hue. Then I descended, spinning the spear overhead like a storm-fueled helicopter to release my storm upon my classmates. Meanwhile, a streak of cobalt danced through the darkness, ricocheting off nearby combatants until it took to the skies toward the Shadowsteel Reaper.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see you steal this!¡±


    After bypassing Toril like a relativistic kill missile, the Shadowsteel Reaper cratered into the ground and detonated in a black flash. In its wake came a web of umbral arcs of electricity that spread in all directions, frying the weaker ones into their cocoons and causing the not-so-weak ones to be shocked with cold fear. The strong ones, however, simultaneously turned their rapt attention to me. However, the lesser of them still faltered after feeling my gravity mana pouring into the Reaper as I spun it overhead.


    Once the others passed them. Their courage seemed to return. They lashed out alongside their comrades. Weapons held at the ready. Spells right at the precipice of being cast. But not before I slammed the Reaper¡¯s hilt into the ground to spread a Moon Quake, lifting the many students airborne. But before I could act, I felt a stinging pain erupt below my shoulder blade just before a demonic voice hissed in my ear. ¡°That fucking hurt!¡±


    With another hiss, the searing pain withdrew. Leaving the cold, stinging feeling of an open wound lingering on my back. Turning, I saw the half-demon, Zarzok, drawing a clawed hand up to his face to give it a couple of loud sniffs. ¡°Devil.¡± He grinned.


    "Half." Grinning back, I wrapped the Dial around my wrist and flicked it to the left. Then jabbed with death mana infused into my knuckles before I activated Terminal Ferocity, accelerating my jab through his pointed nose at truly ludicrous speeds. In my dilated world, I felt the satisfactory sensation of my hand collapsing beneath crushed cartilage as Zarzok¡¯s head reeled back. And in exchange, a potent stream of vitality came rushing back into me, supercharging the healing process of my hand and wound by leaps and bounds. But I wasn¡¯t finished. I reached forward to grab Zarzok by the horns and pulled, breaking the dam on a stream of Usurped Strength that was soon joined by another once gravity saw his face fall into my knee.


    As he reeled back again, sneering, I released my hold on his head in favor of raising my left arm and forming a hammer fist to drop on his neck. As before, Zarzok¡¯s body folded under the force of his own strength, yet his strange smirk persisted. Worse, it intensified once the muscles in my arms began to bulge. My bones began to crack all over. My skin began to stretch. And then I felt it.


    Real strength.


    In one swift motion, I stood upright and skipped forward to punt Zarzok in the chin. And this time, I felt the distinct cracking of bone that out-competed my own. My foot was only a little damaged. Zarzok, however, had been lifted off the ground to eye-level, where he remained suspended in his apex before he began to not-so-gently fall down. With a fat bruise on his chin hilariously resembling a goatee, he scowled at me with wide, burning eyes.


    But he could say nothing. He could only attempt to perceive me infusing more mana into my two martial spells than ever before until I lunged forward with an open palm. Upon impact, my palm depressed into his sternum in ways that felt like pushing into memory foam filled with Legos. His bones- crumpled and powdered, dug into my skin like rocks trapped in the grate of a waterway, unrelenting as if they were pressured into the act by the intoxicating strength pouring into me. All while completely disregarding the gravitational energy flowing out. In response, Zarzok began to reel back further and further. And once I released the dial he all but disappeared. Leaving nothing but a stream of foul curses in his wake.


    As I watched him go, smiling, a sudden realization came over me.


    I spun around at once. Just in time to see a bright light flash into my eyes. Reflexively, I whipped my arm to the left to bring relative time down to a sudden halt. And then I saw it again- or rather, him. Lance. Hardly moving in mid-strike, his eyes focused on where I¡¯d been, even while I calmly stepped around him.


    ¡®Now that is interesting.¡¯


    Grinning wide, I spun, jumped, and delivered a gravitationally assisted kick to his lower back. Then released the Chrono Dial for good to watch him go rocketing through the air like Zarzok. Within only five seconds, he''d fallen no less than 1.8 kilometers away from the battlefield. During that time, however, the wave of students who had been fighting found their way to me. Meters ahead of them all was a slender boy with undeniably Asian features approaching with nothing but his fists and feet. Yet, the veil of mana surrounding him was almost as thick as mine. More so, he was simultaneously using Bolstering and Projection in tandem with keeping a stream of mana cycling through his body.


    In other words.


    ¡®Another monk, eh?¡¯


    Grinning madly, I weaved forward to hit him with a roundhouse, then finished him off with a Gravity Bullet to send him cartwheeling into a group of small fry. Giving me space to infuse my body with void.


    Within seconds, the void ate away at the ground beneath me and I fell. Under gravity alone, I dove deep below the surface until my entry point was but a small pinpoint of twilight. Then I began wading. As if I were swimming, I swept my arms and thus swept void tendrils through the bedrock, releasing untold quantities of earth to be raised. Raised like my hands after they were withdrawn and infused gravitationally.


    The ground responded to my antics with resonating cracks that threatened to disperse my Wraith Form. As the seconds passed, they grew louder. Stones began to fall from above while boulders only ascended, compacting and spreading to fill the earth and skies while the bubble around me only expanded. As the cave grew, my body ascended. First past the layers upon layers of substrate and soil, mangled with roots and spotted with fossils until, eventually, the twilight began to show through the floating planetoids.


    When my body surfaced, the mass of rock and earth above had risen to over a dozen meters above the ground, occluding the torn battlefield in an oppressive shadow. Those not caught up in it could only crane their necks upward and prepare for the best while those trapped in its pull could only orbit around it helplessly. At least until I began to spread the chunks around. Spreading them, weaving them; splitting them in two. And watching them as they multiplied to four and ever more until a cloud of dusty debris remained suspended above the battlefield.


    But they broke apart still. And as they did, I turned my focus to my companions and drew them in with an Artificial Well. One by one, they came hurtling through the air towards me. First, my doppelganger, the Phantom Knight, and the Menagerie, followed by Zakira, and lastly Urshure. And with all of us gathered, I turned my attention to the others, scattered across the battlefield, and infused my voice with mana before I Bamfed us out of there and let the sky fall.


    ¡°May the strong survive.¡±

 141 - Friends and Enemies

    For better or for worse, the last round was more or less a carbon copy of the second. The only notable difference was that it was our party that blitzed Baker Party. But the result was still the same. Pure chaos.


    I kept the powerhouses around Doyle, with Winston being the closest to him at all times. In that aspect, Winston and I operated as opposites. I operated on the precipice of defender and midfielder, in order to keep anyone who made it too far at bay. Which happened to be many. Mainly Zarzok, who was obsessively eager to ¡®settle the score,¡¯ as well as Lance, Silva, Toril, and the other strong ones who felt some type of way about my final attack. Glorious though it was. Eventually, however, the match came to another stalemate. Leaving Cooke Party as the only winner of three rounds. Not the outcome I wanted, but it was better than nothing.


    On the other hand, it was nice to know some of my classmates could keep up with me. Regardless, it was astonishing to see the endless ways people used their magic. It was those observations- I knew, that would give me the insight I needed to bring my magic to its potential. But beyond that, magic itself was simply fascinating. What was even more fascinating, though, was Lance. Not only in his behavior when I dilated time, but in his behavior, once the match concluded.


    I failed to see it the first time. To no surprise, seeing as how I sent him flying and disappeared before he returned. But after the final match, I noticed him shying away from the gaze of Felicity Licht, the Archwitch. With both of them having light magic, their blood relation was all too clear. But Lance¡¯s meek behavior was something that stuck out to me as odd, for whatever reason, so I noted it in the logs for later and returned with my team to ponder on it later.


    ¡°Alright, alright. Gather round.¡± Doyle motioned to the three parties.


    We were gathered in an open field naught but a few hundred meters from where our final battle took place. Yet, the teachers had already spruced up the place with a bit of earth manipulation and the aid of a few canvas tarps.


    ¡°We will now announce the winners.¡± Zeff resounded with one of his claps. Then paused for a long moment to overlook the three groups before clapping once again. ¡°Copper Party!¡± He threw his arm our way.


    ¡°Congratulations!¡± Olga beamed after the obligatory round of applause. ¡°With your victory comes bragging rights and a thousand points to each member of the party.¡±


    ¡®Wow!¡¯ I raised my brows. That brought me to a total of 2,519 points. I most likely had the highest in our year, but I still needed more if I wanted to graduate at the top of the class.


    ¡°This concludes our exercise, but not our outing,¡± Doyle said, bringing our attention back to him. ¡°From here, you¡¯ll go back to your bases and be free to do as you please until the outing is over. But before that.¡± He threw his arm to an array of picnic tables behind him. ¡°We feast!¡± Saying no more, he watched the students scatter into their cliques or groups before migrating to the tables, where they unhesitatingly approached the inlaid consoles to order whatever meals they fancied.


    Naturally, I was among them. Mostly with Zakira and the rest of my team. As well as a few outliers from our Party. But after only a few minutes we were joined by one. At first, and then another. Causing most of my party members to go off in search of other tables.


    ¡°Wow!¡± Zarzok turned his fanged smile to Lance, hovering above the table with an uncomfortable expression. ¡°You are so awkward! It''s adorable.¡±


    Now that I had the chance to look at him closely, Zarzok was¡­ unremarkable. At least he was when I ignored the red skin, burning eyes, flicking tail, and curled horns. Other than that, however, he appeared as a normal person. His face was fine but gaunt. His hair was jet black and meticulously styled. His horns- decorated with jewels and rings, swept back from his brow and curved back around to cover his ears. And he wore the look masterfully.


    ¡°And you.¡± The Fiend turned back to me, scratching his chin. ¡°You¡¯re very weak. But strong. It''s strange.¡± He smiled wider, allowing a deep, demonic laugh to ripple across the table. ¡°How fascinating.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re quite strong but weak.¡± I held my gaze at him for a long moment. Then shrugged before taking a bite out of my apple. ¡°How dreary.¡±


    ¡°Mahahaha!¡± Zarzok keeled forward to slap the table a few thunderous times. ¡°I like you, Amun!¡± He pointed a sharp nail at me. ¡°You¡¯re a strange one!¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I turned to him with a raised brow. ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°You carry yourself with great pride. Yet you are utterly absent of it. At least for yourself.¡± Zarzok beamed. ¡°No small feat for anyone; be they man, elf, or devil.¡±


    ¡°And, you¡¯re the only one to have ever dodged my light,¡± Lance muttered under his breath. Turning to him, I saw him staring with wide, maddened eyes at some invisible point beyond his plate. Then, he slowly turned to me. ¡°It would seem that you are indeed my natural enemy.¡±


    ¡°Rival.¡± I corrected him with a stern look. ¡°There is no one I call an enemy.¡± ''My enemies are intangible.''


    ¡°Oh?¡± Zarzok leaned between us. ¡°But I hear you wish to form a guild to conquer Maru?¡±


    ¡°To breach the barrier that keeps the hordes in and my people out of Ulai, and return it to my fellow Maruleans.¡± I corrected, turning to him with the same gaze given to Lance. ¡°I have no intentions of conquering or ruling over anyone; besides my guild of course. I¡¯d be grateful if you joined.¡±


    ¡°A demon, work for a devil?¡± Zarzok sputtered out a raspberry. ¡°With what incentive?¡±


    ¡°Money of course.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Even greater than that, however, is the unending opportunity to cultivate knowledge, power, and experience. The incentive, Zarzok.¡± I leaned forward. ¡°Is that I will share everything with you. The incentive is the chance to explore each corner of every realm and spread your name across the lot of them. The incentive is my aid in achieving your dreams, whatever they may be, in exchange for aiding me in this mission of mine. As a fiend with an affinity for pride, I¡¯m sure that¡¯s incentive enough?¡±


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Quite tantalizing indeed!¡± Zarzok grinned. Then rose from the table with a slam of his palms. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it, o¡¯ Devil of the Fae. But first, we duel.¡±


    I could only roll my eyes as he walked away. Another downside of being powerful I supposed, was being sought out by the strong as a means to test their mettle. Before I could say anything, however, Lance leaned back in. ¡°A rival sounds nice.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. There¡¯s a lot we can learn from each other. In-¡±


    ¡°Greetings. Pardon my intrusion. May I sit?¡±


    Turning, I saw one of the Tritons taking Zarzok¡¯s place, despite neither of us giving our approval. Like Zarzok, he appeared like a normal man. Albeit one covered from head to toe in turquoise scales. His eyes were of a similar hue, only with a deep blue color that was dulled by a strange membrane or eyelid that glistened with slime. The only notable thing about him, other than the weird skivvies he wore, was the seaweed-like hair that blew in the wind behind him.


    ¡°I am Zohnos Lagunath, High Prince of the Ettrainyar Dominion.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Amun.¡± I lowered my head. ¡°Grand Duke of the Odissian Empire.¡±


    ¡°And what of your surname?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have one,¡± I said. ¡°Drow custom.¡± Apparently.


    ¡°Fascinating.¡± He nodded while sizing me up and down. ¡°I have heard much about you. After meeting you in person, I find myself relieved to see you are regal and respectable, and not a tyrant in the making.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± I paused to bite into my apple. ¡°A tyrant in the making?¡±


    ¡°Those with immense power are often corrupt. Surely you know this?¡± His face peeled back into a warm smile. But I could still feel the condescension. ¡°Even more so, does it corrupt while young. The undeveloped mind is malleable, as things go. And.¡± He sighed hesitantly. ¡°Forgive my being crass, but you are quite brave. You could pass as the offspring of a surface elf and human, yet you openly refer to yourself as an under-elf.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because I am a Drow.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Half, but a Drow all the same. And I''m well aware of how they are seen by others. But... well, if someone is so ignorant as to judge someone for what they are, what abilities they have, or on their appearances alone, then that''s no one I''d want to interact with in the first place.¡±


    ¡°You do not deny them, yet you are nothing like them. Remarkable.¡± He looked away, chuckling to himself- almost in despair, before returning his gaze to mine. ¡°I look forward to the day we work together. If you¡¯ll excuse me.¡±


    ¡®Fuckin weirdo.¡¯ I squinted at him as he walked off to sit with another one of his kind. His sister, I assumed based on their likeness alone.


    ¡°Now that it''s just the two of us.¡± I turned back to Lance. ¡°Have you found an answer yet?¡±


    ¡°You mean, what path I want in life?¡± He fiddled with his soup. ¡°I haven¡¯t. Have you learned more of your- our, history.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Is there anything you can tell me? What all do you know?¡±


    ¡°Nearly all of it.¡± He replied simply. ¡°Countless generations. Eons. We are opposites. Our knowledge is held in our collective light as yours is held in your individual souls. But.¡± He sighed. ¡°As Silva said, it is not my place to tell you, however. Besides, my knowledge doesn¡¯t pertain to the Nox. Except for a few parts.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded slowly. ¡°I can directly commune with my ancestors up to six generations back- only a few centuries. I have to go out and find the bodies for anyone outside of that."


    ¡°Yes, you said so.¡± Lance shook his head. ¡°If that¡¯s true, then you¡¯ve naught even scratched the surface of our history. A few centuries doesn''t even cover the Guild Wars. But I can tell you this, Amun. Zeke was right. My family history stretches back almost as far as yours does. But of course, yours is the eldest.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I squinted with faux skepticism. But it seemed that was unneeded.


    ¡°The light states that the forces of energy and entropy precede all things,¡± Lance explained. ¡°When mana first flooded the universe, those two things- the only two things to exist were personified as a pair of primordial beings that opposed the other. Yet, they maintained a balance of Light and Darkness; Life and Death; Material and Emptiness. Cosmos and Void. The light says that an eternal Cosmic Drake laid its eggs across the Realms and the ones beyond them- realms unseen to the Mortal Plane. These eggs, more like seeds, grew into the Trees of Life. Thus this being is considered by us to be the creator of all living things.


    "Almost." He corrected. "It is the creator of everything but those associated with darkness, death, and void. Pestilence, decay, and disease; venoms and poisons; acids and oils; undead and curses; even insects, eventually. Yet these things came into creation after the cosmic drake left our realms. The light says that we- my family, had been born from the Marulean Tree of Life as a reaction to your clan''s descent from that eternal primordial, the Void Dragon.¡±


    ''Ah. That checks out.'' I nodded in remembrance of my words with Urshure. ¡°So, that explains that. My ancestors mentioned your ancestors were sometimes friends. Just as often as they were enemies. If I were to make the choice, friendly rivals sound good to me.¡±


    ¡°As it does to me. And I¡¯ve often heard the same. But... I don''t know.¡± Lance shook his head in frustration. ¡°What I know of my family would color me surprised if they felt the same way. Personally, I doubt the legend even exists. It sounds like nothing more than hubris to me. A family of stellar light to balance the clan of eternal darkness, sheltering the peoples of Maru from the destroyers. My family has always thought themselves to be that special.¡±


    ¡°Then I suppose that¡¯s something we can somewhat relate to. Even if it''s a polar relation.¡± I told him. ¡°Your family is revered, yet prideful. Mine is feared, yet humble. I guess we¡¯re both cursed.¡± I snorted, shaking my head. ¡°Burdened with ancient knowledge, hereditary fame or infamy, and immense power.¡±


    ¡°You really are strange.¡± Lance chuckled to himself. ¡°You have a unique outlook on life, Amun.¡±


    ¡°I suppose.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Regardless, you are one of the people I wish to spar with the most. As I said before, this exercise leads me to believe we can learn a lot from each other¡¯s abilities. And.¡± I leaned in closer to him, grinning wide. ¡°I want you to join my guild.¡±


    ¡°Huh!?¡± He looked up at me with wrinkled brows and confusion all over his face.


    ¡°I do intend to liberate Maru and explore the other realms.¡± I began explaining. ¡°But I¡¯ve also made it my mission to uncover the true history of the Mortal Plane. I¡¯m a half-Drow, Lance. I¡¯ll live for centuries even without magic. And with magic.¡± I chuckled dryly. ¡°Well, death is irrelevant.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Lance nodded slowly. ¡°May I ask what the first step is?¡±


    ¡°I plan to learn how to speak draconic,¡± I explained. ¡°And maybe a few other languages as well. Once that¡¯s done I¡¯ll have a few conversations with any dragons I find. But that¡¯s not the primary method.¡±


    ¡°Okay?¡± Lance impatiently nodded. ¡°What is the primary method?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s easy.¡± I grinned, tapping at my head. ¡°I simply ask whoever I find lying around any old ruins or battlefields.¡±


    ¡°Necromancy.¡± Lance nodded in embarrassment. Then fell silent for a moment to clearly parse through his thoughts before looking back up to me with some sort of resolve that I couldn¡¯t quite place.


    ¡°I appreciate your offer, Amun. And I¡¯ll heavily consider it, but.¡± He sighed heavily. ¡°I¡¯m still unsure of what path I wish to take in life. If I can even take one of my choosing. Unlike you, I¡¯m not afforded the luxuries of immortality and boundless freedom.¡±


    ¡°Cursed, remember?¡± I raised my brow. Then shrugged, nodding reassuringly as I rose to my feet. ¡°But I understand. I only wished to formally extend the invitation. I look forward to both our next conversation and our next engagement.¡±


    With a final nod, I left the area and started back towards the others. The Peering Eye Cove was calling to me. I needed some well-deserved rest. And now that the opportunity was afforded to me, I intended to do veritably nothing for the remainder of our little weekend.

 142 - Water Works

    ¡°We¡¯re going to the pool if anyone wants to come.¡±


    Without waiting for any responses, I pulled my head out the door to our common room and started walking to the Hub. Accompanying me was only Peter and Zakira, as Slate sunk like a rock and Els had an adverse feeling towards open water. Many of the other Inhumans were averse to the water as well. Though, for much more respectable reasons than Els¡¯, ¡®I don¡¯t like to get wet.¡¯ The others, however, had developed an utter fascination with water sports after I showed them my jet-board at the cove the day before. Since then, it seemed like all our party wanted to do was zip around on them. Even to the point where they started to mope once it was time to leave. But after reminding them of the pools found on campus, they seemed all too eager to return and make swimming plans for the entirety of our last day off.


    Although I was tagging along, my reasons for having a swim day were quite different. Where theirs was for fun and leisure, mine was to develop some new techniques for underwater exploration.


    I¡¯d never been one for open water. In my past life at least. I didn¡¯t suffer from thalassophobia, but Mother Nature was a cruel mistress; and the irrational idea of gargantuan creatures emerging from the depths kept a powerless human like myself further away from such things all the same. In this life, however, things were different. On top of that, I gave Henry my word that I¡¯d recover his ocean crawler one day. His pride aside, such a thing would prove to be an invaluable resource to the Legion. As such, I didn¡¯t want to waste the time developing the means to find it when I could do so now. So I brainstormed on my way to the pool and left the digitized ideas floating in the air.


    The pool was an indoor space I measured to be just as large as the gym floor next to it. Comparing it to an Olympic swimming pool wouldn¡¯t have done it justice. It was essentially an indoor sea. Complete with towering skies that contained an oppressive source of light and heat and waters that were deep enough to keep such an intense light from ever reaching the bottom. Even then, the perimeter of the room had been filled with the same desk-like seats found in both the arena and the gym.


    Unsurprisingly, Zakira made her way to them to lounge about and suck on a blood pack. Swimming wasn¡¯t fun and water burned, according to her. But I still didn¡¯t know if she hated garlic or could enter a house unannounced.


    But I digress.


    While most of the space was either sand, seats, or sea, a cliff structure had been constructed along the far right wall to make for a diving platform and waterfall. At its basin, slumped across large flat rocks, was Zohnos and his assumed sister. Both of whom dove into the waters after noticing my presence. Within moments, they were beaching the shores to my front. Eyes focused on me with no concern for the inquires and cacophony coming from those I came with and those who followed.


    ¡°Amun.¡± Zohnos bowed. ¡°I am surprised to see you here. Did you wish to continue our conversation?¡±


    ¡°Not quite.¡± I politely waved him off. ¡°I¡¯m only here to train."


    So saying, I moved a few meters away to tend to my business. More specifically, I turned my focus to the first of the digital widgets floating above.


    [Task 1: Replicate Respirocytes.]


    After the paradigm shifted on old earth, Respirocytes were the first piece of technology given to humanity by the Starfarer; though, they weren¡¯t conceived by him. They were conceptualized in the 1990s. It was the Starfarer who developed the technology needed for their realization- molecular manufacturing. That enabled humanity to produce them in excess.


    Composed of a diamond shell, Respirocytes ran on glucose to not only mimic but exceed the functions of a red blood cell by a factor of over 200 times, and around half of an adult''s blood volume could be safely augmented with them. The results were numerous. An average lung capacity of 3 hours at rest, or twenty minutes at maximum exertion. The bends became a thing of the past. Strokes became a rarity, as were asphyxiations by any means imaginable.


    As many people at the time did, the first thing I did after augmenting my blood was a breath test. Even being an old, unhealthy chain smoker, I managed to sit on the couch for almost four hours on a single breath. Regardless, everyone who went off-world was required to have them. And one day, I¡¯d redevelop the real thing in this world and pass it along to my Legions. But the Legions were one thing. I was another. I had no intention of relying on potions or even enchantments to replicate the effect. Those wouldn¡¯t always be accessible, so I needed a more immediate solution.


    As of now, option one was to make a bubble of pressurized air around my mouth and exhale it through my nose. It greatly increased my time underwater, but I was breathing pressurized air, with brought about the risk of decompression sickness. To that end, I could expand the bubble around my body and thus lower the overall air pressure, I was aware of that much. Though that didn¡¯t exactly solve my problem, it only intensified it, as I¡¯d quickly lose maneuverability.


    ¡°Would you like to race?¡±


    ¡®What the fuck is wrong with you?¡¯ Groaning, I turned to Zohnos¡¯ sister. A carbon copy of the Prince, albeit a well-endowed one with a trio of blue-white shellfish-looking scales covering her modesty. ¡®You know what?¡¯ I subtly rolled my eyes. ¡°Sure.¡±


    Moving quickly through the water wasn¡¯t my issue. Neither was the pressure. Nor was breathing underwater, really. I could cover my mouth and breathe darkness without any effort. I just wanted breathing to be optional. Without magic.


    ¡°Right.¡± Zohnos pushed himself away to make room for me. Then pointed across the way to Zakira. ¡°You! Announce our start!¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Came the long drone of her reply a moment later.


    ¡°What!?¡±


    ¡°Um, Me! I¡¯ll do it!¡±


    Turning in tandem with Zohnos, I saw Toni paddling forward on a platform of ice. Much to the Triton¡¯s dismay.


    ¡°Very well.¡± He grunted. ¡°On her start, we¡¯ll race to the far wall.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡±


    ¡°You!¡± He pointed to Toni. ¡°Smack the surface thrice. Our race will commence on the third strike.¡±


    ¡°Um. Okay?¡± Toni rapidly blinked as we dipped under the surface one by one.


    I, however, couldn¡¯t help but grin in anticipation at the thought of their reactions to the marvelous effects of supercavitation.


    With a dull thud and ripple from above, my anticipation grew into unbridled eagerness. I began to prepare by getting a feel for the water around me. When the second slap sounded, Zohnos and his sister splayed their limbs out to their sides. Their webbed hands and feet grabbed onto the water as if they were stones on a mountainside and they pulled, creating miniature currents to form a ring of spinning bubbles before them while I floated there. When the final thud came, it triggered a jetstream of water to plume out behind the three of us. With nowhere to go, the shockwave slammed into the coast. Blasting sand and water against the ceiling while we were sent rocketing through the depths. But even with supercavitation, I was no match for those born in an environment such as this. So I did what only the most successful individuals did.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I cheated.


    I pulled shadow mana out of my Well and let it flow into my body. In doing so, the effects of water resistance and the need to manipulate the water around me were removed from my incorporeal form. At the cost of a sliver of arcana, I flew through the depths to catch up with the two Tritons just before we made contact with the finish line. Though I still lost, it was only a second or two after them. And at least one of them was impressed. She swam around me like a curious dolphin while I lazily floated on my back, staring up at the ceiling.


    ¡°Wow!¡± the sister¡¯s voice rang through the water like a whale call. ¡°I never knew humans could move so quickly through the water! I am Vlorlyn Lagunath.¡±


    ¡°Impressive, yes.¡± Zohnos awkwardly interjected and quickly shied away. Though it was all too clear he wanted to say more.


    ¡°Thank you. I''m Amun.¡± I bowed as much as I could in the water. Much their amusement, I was sure. ¡°Since we¡¯re already conversing, mind if I ask you a question?¡±


    ¡°What is it you wish to speak about?¡± Zohnos asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m curious about life beneath the sea. The creatures, the societies. What are they like?¡±


    ¡°We Tritons are at the pinnacle of civilized aquatic life.¡± Zohnos proudly spat with a webbed hand laid across his scaled chest. ¡°Our homes can be found in the deepest depths of the Mortal Plane¡¯s oceans and seas. It is our kind that has selflessly protected the surface realms from the dangers of the deep since time immemorial. Now it is time for my question.¡± Zohnos leaned far too close. ¡°For what reason does your curiosity stem? Is it because you wish to do as other humans do and impede on, take from, and litter in the waters of the realms?¡±


    ¡®Seems like I struck a nerve.¡¯ I snorted to myself before calmly saying. ¡°I only seek knowledge. I¡¯ll give you knowledge in return if you like?¡±


    His sister, Vlorlyn swam forth at once. ¡°What kind of knowledge?¡±


    ¡°Knowledge of my home. Maru.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Or of magic. Or science or technology.¡±


    ¡°Science. Technology.¡± Zohnos slowly repeated as if to commit the terms to memory. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard such terms before. What do they mean?¡±


    ¡°Science is a term that describes a particular method one uses to study and come to understand the truths hidden in the natural world. Why does lightning strike? Why does water boil into steam and solidify into ice? Why does light cast a shadow and influence what we see? These questions can be explored and eventually answered through the scientific method. Technology, on the other hand.¡± I grinned. ¡°Is applied science. Technology is the result of using the knowledge gained from science to make things that can do things we can¡¯t do ourselves.¡±


    ¡°I think¡­ I understand.¡± Vlorlyn said after a few moments of deep thought. Then looked to my eyes with a sort of pride and hope that I couldn¡¯t quite place. ¡°Are enchantments an example of this¡­ technology? Or armor?¡±


    ¡°They are.¡± I nodded. Then switched my expectant gaze between them until one of them spoke up.


    Unsurprisingly, it was Vlorlyn. ¡°There are as many creatures in the waters of the realms as there are grains of sand on their shores. They range from creatures far too small for one to see, up to the leviathans of the deep- creatures that would make this great tree appear to be but a small sapling in comparison.¡±


    ¡°That is the true scale of the world''s depths, Amun.¡± Zohnos punctuated his sister''s explanation by swimming between us. ¡°It is a realm that the denizens of the surface have no business exploring. If they know what¡¯s good for them.¡±


    ¡°You speak as if you own the seas.¡± I snorted, rolling my eyes. ¡°If that¡¯s the case, why are you here?¡±


    ¡°We do not own the seas!¡± Zohnos protested. ¡°We protect the realms'' waters from all threats! That includes those of the surface world who pollute and poach our waters! The depths are no place for surface-dwellers! They lack the grace and agility needed to survive down there! And they can¡¯t even breathe!


    ¡°As for your second question.¡± He swam a meter or two away to take in a deep breath. ¡°We are here to grow in strength and knowledge.¡±


    ¡°To grow in strength and knowledge,¡± I slowly repeated. Then gestured around us. ¡°Here, on the surface of Nonus. You will explore, study at its finest institution, and return to your home as a better version of yourself. All while denying those on the surface the same right. All while acting as if you own the seas while claiming in the same breath that you don¡¯t. Zohnos Lagunath, you are a hypocrite.¡±


    Shaking my head, I re-assumed my Semi-Wraith Form and descended to the deepest parts of the pool, to where the shade was dark enough to shroud me in my full Wraith Form. ¡°Worse than a hypocrite, you¡¯re an arrogantly proud hypocrite. I dislike people like you.¡± I spat. Then sent out echoes upon echoes of laughter as I circled them.


    ¡°Where are you?¡± Zohnos spun about. "Show yourself!"


    ¡°I am everywhere, for I am darkness itself.¡± I laughed. ¡°Down in your so-called dangerous depths, I can breathe darkness. Down there, I can be invisible at will. Down there.¡± I wheeled around to whisper in the Triton Prince¡¯s ear. ¡°I have just as much grace and agility as you do, Zohnos Lagunath. I have power. I have control. I have a darkness in me that will occlude the greatest leviathan able to be conceived by the depths. More importantly, I have the power to make theirs my own.¡±


    To punctuate my claim, I opened a chasm of darkness and watched their faces crumple in anger once Hatchi swam out into the darkness. Followed by Chako, then Jima, and Orpheus. And finally Blante. Octopus, orcas, and a crab of dreadful darkness.


    ¡°Whether they be alive or dead, I can force any creature into submission. So your claims of the ocean being too dangerous for me to explore is nothing more than a paltry excuse to me. Besides, if people are willing to put themselves into situations that would lead to their deaths, who are you to stop them?¡±


    Again, I couldn¡¯t help but laugh at Zohnos¡¯ response. A disgruntled sneer pulled his face up on a single side. The brown veins in his neck bulged his scales in aberrant angles, causing them to stand out in the grayscale depths of the pool floor if only a little. His clenched fists tremored at his sides. Subtly, but enough to induce small vortexes around his arms that increased as the piercing silence loomed on.


    After willing myself to be seen, I sat cross-legged on the floor and waited for them to swim around me before I spoke. ¡°The other day, you said you were relieved to find that I¡¯m not a tyrant in the making. Considering your logic behind the waters of the realm, however, I find that statement to be derisive at best, if not just a nugatory excuse to shy such a claim away from oneself. If you find that to be a baseless accusation then consider this. If I were to operate under your logic, Zohnos, then it¡¯d be well within my rights to claim that shadows- darkness itself, is my domain. Unlike you, I was born a Sorcerer. And so it would be natural to assume that everything that finds itself shrouded in darkness is mine to¡­ ¡®protect¡¯ as well. As you can see.¡± I gestured around us, grinning all the while. ¡°That includes the bottom of this pool. And the bottom of your precious waters as well. And the Mortal Plane in its entirety. Each and every night.


    ¡°Not only that.¡± I continued before they could respond. ¡°But the darkness is but a fraction of the power that is my birthright. My power revolves around all things related to death. Which means every living being that has ever died falls within my domain as well. Every corpse in every crypt, cairn, and graveyard on the Mortal Plane. And if we take my other affinities into account: the void, gravity, electromagnetism, space-time, and nuclear magic, that would imply that the universe itself is my domain to protect and shape as I see fit.


    ¡°So, Zohnos.¡± I clapped much in the same way Zeff did, only for a field of gravitational mana to pull the water away from me. Opening up a cylinder that led to the surface over a kilometer above us. ¡°I hope you understand now. First, that you sound like a fucking idiot. Second, the heavens, all the realms, the Darkworld, the ocean depths, and even the Underworld are all free to be explored by whosoever is strong enough to make the journey. Even if they aren¡¯t strong enough, they¡¯re free to die in the pursuit of their dreams. It is their choice to make. And no one- not the gods and certainly not you, Zohnos, will ever tell me- or anyone else otherwise.¡±


    Ever so slowly, Zohnos leaned forward to break the vertical surface of my enclosure to growl in a scornful tone.¡°Be careful who you make an enemy of, Amun. You may be powerful, but there are forces in these realms that even you cannot defeat. I will teach you that lesson next week.¡± He spat. And in a powerful wave that failed to breach my cylinder, he darted off.


    ¡°If I can¡¯t defeat them then I will die.¡± I shrugged with a smug grin, knowing the echoes of darkness would make it through to his ears. ¡°But death is not the end for my kind.¡±


    ¡°You have my admiration!¡± Vlorlyn said, clearly amused. ¡°I cannot find a flaw in your logic.¡±


    ¡°And your brother can¡¯t in his either.¡± I snorted.


    ¡°We are a prideful people, but what we speak is truth. That said.¡± She sighed. ¡°Zohnos¡¯ intentions were not to make an enemy out of you. It was to serve as a warning. The depths can be dangerous. That is all.¡±


    ¡°Well, he sure has a way with words.¡± I chided.


    Besides, it can¡¯t be more dangerous than the Darkworld.


    Or the Under.


    And certainly not the Hells.

 143 - Jackpot

    "Uh, hello?"


    "Hi, hi! Welcome, welcome! Oh!" The tiny man stumbled back after rounding the corner with maddening waves of his arms. "Amun! Good to see you! Good to see you! What can I do for you? Here to talk?"


    "Not today, Zook. I''m here to register a piece of equipment."


    "Oh?" He took an unconscious step back to eye me, reaching into my coat to pull out the skeletal half-mask that came with my fighting robes. "Oh!" He jumped forward onto his desk. "But this ain''t the complete set? No, it''s not. Want to register the rest?"


    "May as well." I shrugged, then proceeded to hand them over. "I''d also like to customize the arena for my upcoming duel."


    Reaching his small arms wide, Zook scooped my equipment up to settle it on a nearby shelf behind him, shouting all the while. "Ah! Yes! Yes! Against Zohnos? Yes, I''ve heard! I''ve heard!"


    "I want the arena to be like the open sea in the dead of night. A pit of deep water with a pillar in the middle, breaching the surface to grant space large enough for the two of us."


    "Easy enough!" He beamed with a shake of his head. "Anything else?"


    "Nope." I turned with a wave. "Gotta get to class. See you later."


    "Alright, alright! I''ll see ya!"


    Gotta get to class. While true, I had over twenty minutes before that happened. That called for a detour and a smoke while I made my way to the mines. With the games played during our last outing, the mundane days that followed skated by at a breakneck pace. In Doyle''s class, we trained, and in Zeff''s class, we trained some more. Olga''s class was the same as it''d been last week and today was scheduled to be no different. Having gained a veritable deposit of materials already, however, I decided to go against the grain and make my own schedule for the day. So while everyone gathered around the crystals to claim their gear and descend, I approached Olga on her ostentatious workstation.


    "Amun." She turned to me with a smile. "That was quite the show last weekend."


    "Thank you." I lowered my head. Then pointed to the forges. "I was wondering if I could refine some materials before lunch."


    "If you want to." She waved. "Just remember that you''ll still need to make something in class to get the grade when the time comes."


    "Of course."


    "Then have at it."


    After waving me off, she moved her stool to an auspicious place behind her workstation and started meddling with various things while I pulled a ton or two of each ore from my shadow and suspended them before me. Using air manipulation, I created a vacuum around the five spheres. Then formed spatial domains around each of them to keep the air out and the heat in. With my concentration now free, I created high-frequency magnetic fields within each vacuum and started raising the frequency even higher. And in a flash of violet light, the sparks began flying.


    Olga shot up at once, her hands cupped around her ears in preparation for the shockwave. But there was only silence to befall her. Embarrassed and caught red-handed, she stormed up to me at once. Eyes wide and mouth agape.


    "W- what is this?"


    "It''s an induction furnace," I nonchalantly said. "It uses magnetism to smelt and refine metals. As you can see." I motioned to the miniature suns. "It''s highly efficient."


    "And you''ve kept the air away to retain the heat and mute the sound." She muttered. "Ingenious. You have the potential to be a Grandmaster Artificer, you know?" She smiled at me. "I''ll be surprised if you''re not already."


    "I hope so." I chuckled. "It''s precisely what I aspire to be."


    "Every Artificer does!" She proudly threw her fist into her chest. "I may be a Grandmaster Alchemist, but I can always choose to walk down that path instead."


    "How does that work?" I turned to her. "I know you can Multi-Class, but you can just change Classes too?"


    "Not quite." She shook her head. "And Multi-Classing is a bit more complicated than what you''re familiar with. Any two Classes can merge, but their abilities may oppose each other. A Monk who needs to remain calm would be hindered if they took up the Barbarian Class, for instance. But raging monks do exist. I''m a Ranger and an Alchemist. The former helps me find materials for the latter."


    "In other words, it''s all about synergy."


    "Y- yes." She lowered her head. "I''m still in the mindset of a lecturer, it seems. Forgive me, insulting your intelligence was not my intent."


    "No worries. Apology accepted." While smiling at her, I produced Artificial Wells within the domains to start withdrawing the slag and impurities. "Anyway." I continued while working. "I plan to be a Monk and an Artificer. And whatever Prestige Class I may or may not get."


    "You are a Sorcerer, Amun. You getting a Prestige Class is a certainty." She smiled. Then turned her wide eyes back to the glowing masses before her. "That aside, I''m eager to see your growth as an Artificer. Now, don''t let me disturb you." With another wave, she trotted back to her seat to watch the process from afar.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Unluckily for her, however, the process was all but over. The slag and impurities had been separated from the refined metal. And those had been separated from each other. The domains had been canceled and scattered to the weave around us. Leaving nothing but five glowing orbs that were quickly losing their luster. From yellow to orange, to red they faded until eventually, five spherical ingots were left floating in front of me.


    And with a wave of my hand, they plummeted into the aggregations of darkness below them. Then, I started the process over again.


    While there was much I wanted to make, making those things to my standard required a time investment that wasn''t yet feasible. Besides, as Olga said, we''d have an entire quarter dedicated to that in a few months. That said, the sheer amount of material I needed to process meant I needed to start now. And not just for half a day in class, but on my days off and during our outings as well. I needed fuck tons on fuck tons of material for myself, ten times that amount for the guild, and ten times that amount for the kingdoms, cities, townships, and commonwealths that would one day become a part of my empire.


    By lunch, I managed to process dozens of tons of materials and, as an added bonus, boosted my proficiency in multi-casting. After lunch, however, I stuck to my word and descended into the lowest level of the mine. Not just to gather more materials, but for some long-awaited experimentation.


    And conversation as well.


    "Alright, boy." I kneeled before Skoll. "Fetch me a head."


    With a low yip, the umbral dire wolf wheeled about to skip off into the darkness and returned a few moments later with a dusty gold-toothed skull clenched in his maw.


    Smiling, I reached into my shadow to pull a piece of carrion from Skoll''s stash and threw it to him in exchange for the prize. "Good boy!"


    Somewhat begrudgingly, he took his prize which was technically his to begin with, and disappeared, growling what I was sure was obscenities over his shoulder.


    ''Oh well. He''ll be alright.'' I turned to the skull in my hand with a shrug.


    It was one of the few I''ve seen scattered across the mines. No doubt a victim of the venomous creatures prowling the place. Even now they lashed out at me, only to fall to the ground a moment later, where they writhed and shuddered and screeched until they fell into the reaching hands of darkness. This skull in particular was of human origin. An invaluable source of information, I was sure. But first, there was something I needed to test.


    After I broke off a tooth, I tossed the skull aside to drop it into a lazy orbit around me. Then, with it held between my fingers, I channeled a bit of Nuclear Mana into it. In a bright flash of solar light, my mana cascaded into the tooth. Vaporizing into ashes before my eyes and leaving the energy with nowhere to go except back into my fingers and dissipate- or rather, transform into something else entirely.


    Information.


    "Ah!" After rocking back in pleasant surprise, I reached forward to catch the skull as it came around and brought it up to my face. "You were hardly older than I am. But you lived so long ago. Let''s see what you have to say. Speak!" Palming the skull, I coursed Death Magic through my fingers and the skull responded at once with a bone-chilling rattle. Clouds of darkness began to form around the fissures in its crown and fell inwards to coagulate into a sort of umbral brain. As the seconds passed, the rattling continued, eventually rising to a crescendo that shook my arm up to the shoulder. Then it fell to a soft shudder.


    The darkness- once pooling from my hand into its skull, began to leech from his eyes like a dense fog until a bright flash signaled their opening. Jerking my hand strongly, the skull turned the blue-green embers that were its eyes towards me. Then, the thrashing started.


    "-ster! Go on without me! I''ve been bitten! I''ve been poi- huh?" The now-animated skull snapped its eyes to the left. Then right. Then to me, and recoiled back in my hand as if it wanted to sprint away. "And the Nox! The Nox is here! Run for your lives lest you be consumed by the abyss!"


    Being utterly shocked, I could only listen and stare in wonder at the screaming skull in my hand until I heard a shuffling come from further down the cave.


    "Be quiet!" I whispered. And the skull ceased its ramblings instantly.


    The heaves and huffs of breath. The scraping of a hard, but fleshy material against stone. Soft grunts and mutters permeating the darkness around me. They all implied one thing. One individual. And right before he turned the corner, I canceled my spell and turned to see the winged, scaled figure storming around the corner.


    "Fancy meeting you here, Urshure."


    "Who did that voice belong to?" He snarled, albeit in a friendly way.


    Wordlessly, I tossed him the skull and in one smooth motion, he caught and crushed it with a loud growl.


    "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I splayed my hands in confused frustration. Then waded through the smoke pouring from his nostrils to encase the pile of shards in a Chrono Domain. As the shards began to revert and fall back into place, Urshure''s offended grunts and growls turned into hums and interested mutters. His interest culminated in him reaching for the skull once it had reformed, but I was quicker. And before he could reel back, I infused my palm with death magic and held it out towards Urshure as it rattled to life.


    "Monster!" The skull began thrashing in my hand at once. "Run-"


    "Stop yelling!" I snapped the skull to face me. "Inside voices. Understand?"


    "Yes, Sir!" Somehow- somehow, I could only see the image of him holding up a salute in tandem with his over-enthusiastic shout.


    ''This one may be a handful.'' I groaned. "Who are you, when were you born, and what did you do for a living?"


    "My name is Simion Lumbarde! I was born in the year five twenty-six, in the bustling city of Lumiere, northern Ulai. I am both a scholar and a bard of the Tempest Guild. But I am first, a gentleman."


    "Then why are you here?" Urshure asked. To which Simion stayed silent until I relayed the order.


    "Well¡­" He somehow shrugged in my hand. "I wasn''t exactly a part of the guild yet. I was raised in it though!" He flicked himself towards Urshure. "I was sent to the Bodhi Tree for my evolution and met an... untimely demise before my return. But¡­ my gods, how unlucky am I! Or lucky, rather. Oh, I don''t know." He sunk in my hand, then flicked his ethereal eyes back up to me. "To be raised by the Nox." He chuckled in despair. "My soul! My poor soul!"


    "I can let you go back to the Under if you like." I shrugged.


    "No!" He spun to face me. "Please no! That place is¡­ wait. How long was I there?"


    "The year is fourteen ninety-one," I said.


    "Oh, gods!" He gasped.


    "Yeahhh." I nodded slowly. "Welp." I shrugged. "See ya later."


    "What!? No-"


    As the spell faded, the blue-green embers in his eyes died out. Carrying with it the fading echoes of his scream before he fell into my Shade Pocket for safekeeping.


    With Simion gone, I turned to Urshure and his unreadable visage to stare and try to get some information until he said something. But, much to my dismay, he simply turned down the cave with a snort and stepped off.

 144 - Now Kiss

    After Urshure¡¯s dismissal, I elected to suspend my conversation with Simion and spent the remainder of class scouting and digging out the mines with my Troops. As a result, I managed to get a few more substantial deposits of all the common metals as well as a small bundle of monster parts, skulls, and bones retrieved by the Menagerie. They¡¯d surveyed almost a quarter of the lowest level by the end of class and found only wolframite- an ore of tungsten that was tagged for later, but no bauxite, sperrylite, or anything else that contained precious or rare earth metals. Naturally, I found no ores containing mithral or adamantine either, and no magical ores were found as well. Unsurprisingly, considering the former two were only found in the Darkworld, and the latter were often found far away from society.


    Still, I assumed there¡¯d be at least something, as the deposits scattered across these mines were anything but natural. But at the same time, I couldn¡¯t be disappointed. The lack of such materials here provided me with more opportunities to explore and gather as much as I could later. And so, with that in mind, I spent a few hours refining metals before meditating for the night and waking up for my usual bout of training. Several hours later, I was centered around my ecstatic party in the courtyard. Watching as they went to and from the crystals to retrieve and check each other¡¯s gear.


    ¡°Alright!¡± Doyle waved us to him. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you now, there are no games or exercises scheduled for this outing. You¡¯re free to do as you please. Natural students must travel in teams of three. Supernaturals can go in groups of two. And the Arcane can travel solo. If you¡¯re all set, let¡¯s go.¡±


    With a wave, he invited us through the archway of stones and glowing vines. And one by one we went through the shroud of blue light to emerge in our waterfall cave a second later. Immediately, everyone went their separate ways. Some emerged from behind the waterfall to hunt, fish, or forage. Others went downstairs to continue building or emplacing furniture while a solemn few laid out on the tables or retreated to their rooms at once.


    I, for one, moved to the alcove behind the waterfall to process a few things. And as always, Doyle stopped brooding in the corner and began watching me with keen interest.


    He seemed particularly intrigued when I formed a small moon of bones, limestone, and eggshells, then his curiosity turned into confusion once I dumped the pile into a furnace. With the fire burning and the materials cooking, I stepped to the butchering station to begin breaking down the dozens of animals given to me by Zakira and my Troops. An effort that wound up taking more time than I allotted, as the state of the corpses ranged from mangled messes of meat to drained carcasses sporting two clean puncture wounds, but it was well worth it. By breaking them down like this, they could only be raised as skeletal beasts, rather than zombie beasts. While each had its pros and cons, raising animal zombies- in my opinion, was a waste of resources.


    From my quarry came hundreds upon hundreds of kilos of meat ready to be salted or cooked and hundreds of square meters of hides waiting to be tanned. Not to mention a variety of magical and non-magical organs that had the potential to make some fantastical potions. Those resources would just be wasted in a zombie beast. Reduced to targets that sit in wait to be sliced and smashed by their opponents.


    Sentients, however, were a different story.


    Almost as if he¡¯d been waiting for me to finish, Doyle approached me the moment I turned. ¡°Alright, I can¡¯t take it.¡± He pointed to the furnace. ¡°What in the Seventeen Hells are you doing? You¡¯re burning rocks and bones?¡±


    ¡°Seashells and eggshells too.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Looking around and inside, I noticed the others standing around conversing or looking bored so I decided to give both him and the class a quick lesson and gathered them around. ¡°Have you ever heard of chemistry?¡± I rhetorically asked moments later.


    Unsurprisingly, he shook his head.


    ¡°It¡¯s like alchemy, but with natural materials and no magic,¡± I explained. ¡°By mixing materials and changing the conditions of their environments, you can make new materials altogether or refine materials from their impure forms. Within bone, eggshells, seashells, and limestone is a compound called calcium carbonate. After being heated to the right temperature, a reaction takes place. Turning it into calcium oxide, or quicklime.¡± I paused to open the furnace and pull out a calcified bit of stone from the furnace. It was bone white and flaky like soft chalk that easily broke apart in my hands.


    I stayed silent as I gathered all the material into a bucket and then pulled an orb of water from the waterfall, then began slowly adding it to the bucket. Immediately, it began sizzling, swelling, and emitting plumes of white smoke. ¡°If you add water to quicklime, a reaction occurs. It grows hot and changes from calcium oxide into calcium hydroxide, also known as lime. The process is known as Slaking.¡± I added more water to more or less submerge all the quicklime and it immediately began sizzling. Boiling into a steamy pillar.


    The other students were clearly having trouble following along. They held blank, dumb faces while slowly repeating the names out loud. Doyle however, was significantly less phased. ¡°And what does this lime do?¡±


    ¡°A few steps short of everything.¡± I chuckled, continuing to stir and add water until the reaction stopped, and was left with a thick white substance much like a thick clam-less chowder. ¡°The reason I made this batch was to mask the smell of the outhouses,¡± I said, nodding in the direction of the grass-door alcoves. ¡°Its true applications stretch much farther than that though. It can be used to increase the quality of infertile soil. It can be used to make better construction materials. It can remove impurities during steel processing, and more.¡±


    ¡°Very interesting.¡± He nodded. ¡°Perhaps I¡¯ll make some of my own sometime.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you do that.¡± I snorted. Then stood to spread lime around the outhouses. And in doing so, passed by Peter and Winston as they entered the cave.


    After looping around behind them, I leaned against the entrance to watch them scoop a few bowls of stew from the pot before they plopped themselves down on either side of the hearth. It wasn''t only them inside, but it may as well have been empty. They just sat there, staring off into space while they chewed away. So I did as any good leader would do. I sat between them.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°Have you two made up yet?¡±


    Peter shied away as if he was embarrassed while Winston was the one who spoke up.


    ¡°N- no.¡± He shook his head. ¡°We haven¡¯t spoken at all since you-¡± Winston inhaled deeply. ¡°Since we talked.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded. Then grabbed a bowl for me and left for the door leading into the meeting room. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to it then.¡±


    ***


    Peter Boyd.


    ***


    When Amun left, my eyes naturally drifted over to Winston. As before, he was just sitting there. Squinting at his lap as he muttered something under his breath. Almost as if he were working up the courage to say something. And he¡¯d do it. He¡¯d raise his eyes to meet mine and open his mouth. Then he¡¯d look away and close it. He¡¯d drop his eyes. Sometimes he slam his fist into his knee. For minutes.


    Through it all, I just watched. Waited. Observed.


    ¡°Peter, I-¡± He started again. Hit his thigh. Again. Shot his gaze away from mine again. Then slapped his palms against his lap and fell forward. ¡°I was jealous, okay!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I asked without thinking. Though I consciously shook my head at Winston, glistening in a cold sheen of sweat as he heaved before me.


    ¡°I was jealous.¡± Winston dropped his head again. ¡°I was jealous to know that I- a royal, had been given a single affinity core while you got four. And instead of noticing the glaring issue that was right in front of my face, I acted like a spoiled brat and bullied you. I had my vassals bully you. For that and much more, you have every reason to hate me.¡±


    While I was shocked, that wasn¡¯t the reason I stayed silent as I watched- listened to Winston¡¯s confession. There was an immense sadness in him that I never expected to see. A struggle. Made evident from the pits of sweat staining his clothes, his ragged breath, and his unkempt hair. From his chattering eyes and his somber tongue. His reclusive attitude and intense training. Winston Epeth was at odds with himself.


    Even I could see that.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been doing a lot of contemplation.¡± He finally said, his breath still shaking as he lowered himself into a bow. ¡°Thinking about what¡¯s considered ¡®normal¡¯ in Epethia. I... I¡¯m still learning. But, Amun has helped me see the light. Ironic as that may seem.¡± He chortled to himself. ¡°I¡¯ve known all my life that slavery is wrong. I remember, when I was younger, imagining myself as a slave. I remember thinking that people- creatures, sentient or not- are not property. Even if I never acknowledged it, I knew that I would never accept such a life for myself. I knew I would rather die than live as a slave. Yet, I lacked the courage to stand up for what I knew was right. I turned a blind eye and worse, took part in it. And by the time I was old enough to make my own decisions, it was... normal.


    ¡°Peter!¡± He slammed his fist again. ¡°I know mere words can never atone for what I- my Empire has done. But, I¡¯m sorry! From the depths of my heart, I apologize! And I pray that we can both move past this and¡­ well.¡± He sighed, raising his posture to reveal a melancholy smile twisted with hope-filled tears. ¡°I won¡¯t be as presumptuous as to say we could be friends. But, I have hope. Whatever your feelings are, I accept them with all my heart.¡± He lowered into a bow once more. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I swear to you, I will be better. Epethia will be better!¡±


    Many things were going through my mind at that moment. Mostly shock. Surprise. Utter disbelief. But no hate. No rage or frustration or even impatience. Only curiosity. Interest. And hints of admiration.


    It was true that for the majority of my life thus far, I hated Epethia as a whole. I hated Winston and his companions. I loathed the treatment they made me endure and sought retribution. But after arriving at the academy and gaining friends of my own. I began to form a new perspective. Me and countless others.


    Amun.


    He was a Drow. He was from the family of Devils. He was a man who was hardly human, according to some. But he used his actions to go against every label, stereotype, or assumption made about him. That alone made him worth following. But he went on to give so much to so many people in only a few months. Knowledge. Wisdom. Power. Courage. Weapons. Oftentimes in exchange for something in return. But other times, like with me, his actions seemed to be born from pure altruism. No matter how much he tried denying it.


    Despite the changes I noticed in myself, I was unaware that the changes in others were anything of this scale. In less than half a year, the pompous, arrogant, and proud Prince of Epeth had been reduced to a teary-eyed boy prostrating before me- a former slave whom he used to ostracize daily. It was a change as blatant as day turning into night. One that shocked me to my core and made my mind revolve around a single question.


    ¡°What did Amun say to you?¡±


    Winston snapped his head up to face me at once, dislodging a few droplets from his face in the process. His reaction- his stare, essentially was a shout that contained no words. A shout that told me I¡¯d spoken aloud.


    ¡°He told me the truth.¡± Winston chuckled dryly. ¡°That I am a royal who will one day inherit the throne of the largest country in Maru, so I should act like it and stop being a petulant child. That.¡± He continued after a long pause, a noticeable tremor in his breath. ¡°That and he told me that he went to Epethia himself. He went to the capital before we saw him on Rook Island. He told me that just looking around the city made him sick to his stomach. And¡­ he didn¡¯t say it. but¡­¡± he took another deep, shaking breath as if he were terrified to say the words. ¡°I know¡­ I know the thought of destroying our home crossed his mind. If he wasn¡¯t who he is- if Amun was a different type of person, Epethia would not exist today.¡±


    ¡°But he didn¡¯t destroy anything,¡± I noted. ¡®Just like I didn¡¯t.¡¯


    ¡°Instead,¡± I continued. ¡°Amun chose a path that benefits everyone. He decided to change the crown itself, rather than destroy the land it looks down on.¡±


    ¡°Er¡­ yes.¡± Winston nodded, his head still lowered level to the ground.


    ¡°Raise your head, Winston.¡± I sighed. ¡°A Prince shouldn¡¯t lower his head so easily.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Winston shook his head. ¡°He should only lower his head when practicing humility. Which is exactly what I¡¯m doing now. Besides, I¡¯m not worthy of the title. Especially when spoken from your mouth. You have every right to be angry with me, Peter. To hate me. I accept those feelings from the depth of my heart; yet, I will still apologize.¡±


    ¡°You keep saying that, but I don¡¯t hate you. I¡¯m not even angry at you anymore,¡± I said, chewing slowly. ¡°As Amun once told me, you and I are just products of our environment. Victims of circumstance. Raised to believe what we believe from birth. You, who was raised in a privileged environment and indoctrinated to adopt cruel practices. And me, someone dealt a bad hand in life. Born as a slave and forced to endure hardship after hardship until I was pushed toward revenge.


    ¡°But the answer isn¡¯t to lash out at those born into the same environment.¡± I continued past his bemused look. ¡°It¡¯s to either escape it or change it if you have the power to. I don¡¯t have the power to change it. And I¡¯ve already escaped it. I¡¯m not going back. And, also.¡± I sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t hate you, but it¡¯s not as if I¡¯ve forgiven you either. You¡¯ve given a heartfelt apology and you¡¯ve made up your mind, but you haven¡¯t acted. You haven¡¯t done anything to right your wrongs. And until you do, there¡¯s not much I have to say to you.¡±


    ¡°I- I understand.¡± Winston nodded. Disappointment wrought all over his face as his gaze sank back down to his feet and stayed there. Even as he took his bowl and left the room.


    ¡°One more thing,¡± I called back to him. Then felt a pang in my heart after seeing him turn with eyes filled with hope. ¡°You¡¯re wrong about Amun, and you shouldn¡¯t think so lowly of him. I¡¯m confident that destroying Epethia never even crossed his mind. He¡¯s not the type to commit genocide on a whim. He¡¯s not a monster in human form. Trust me, I¡¯ve seen plenty.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Winston sighed, turning for the door. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±

 145 - Divine Intervention

    ¡°Amun?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± Turning, I saw the party''s social moth peering her bulbous eyes down the stairs.


    ¡°Um. Good morning.¡± She meekly sidled in with a bow of her head. Then turned toward the wall with a curious look.


    ¡°Good morning, Scarlett.¡± I squinted at her. Particularly at her pale, blanched skin. ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± She turned back to me with raised brows and bulging eyes. ¡°Oh, yes! The forest is whispering for you!¡±


    ¡°Huh!?!¡± I recoiled.


    ¡°Yes!¡± She stepped closer. ¡°This has never happened before! It¡¯s so exciting! Come!¡± With a strength that belied her size, Scarlett pulled me upstairs and outside to shoo away anyone who came close before she leaned in to whisper. ¡°I don¡¯t know what it is, but it¡¯s not the headmaster. And I¡¯m not allowed to ask questions¡±


    ¡°At all?¡± I squinted. ''The fuck?''


    ¡°Now or never!¡± She shook her head with a beaming smile. ¡°And your secrets are safe with me. Now, over there!¡± She flung her arm, sending a thick line of silk due south. ¡°Twenty-seven kilometers! It will find you.¡±


    ¡°Are you charmed or something?¡± I leaned in close to study her with scrutinizing eyes. ¡°How can you hear the forest? You¡¯re unevolved.¡±


    ¡°Dunno.¡± She shrugged. ¡°But I can tell you it¡¯s natural.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°What¡¯s it saying?¡±


    ¡°Summon the dark one!¡± She wooed as if she were telling a ghost story.


    ¡°Ugh.¡± With a sigh, I looked around for Doyle and, thankfully, he was nowhere to be found. ¡°I guess this is an excellent trust-building exercise?¡± I smirked at her. ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡±


    Under the influence of an Artificial Well, a single leap pulled me up into the sky and sent me rocketing into the distance. Just a few seconds later, I came to a gentle landing in a clearing some 27-odd kilometers away and looked around to see nothing but flora. Sighing to myself, I pulled out a blunt and took the first step in an ambiguous direction, only for a point of light to shimmer behind me. I spun at once. And subsequently froze.


    What faced me was a creature that left me both awed and nervous.


    It had a strong body coated in pure white fur. Its hooves were cloven, shrouded in a plume of illustrious white hair that matched the length extending from its goat-like chin. Its eyes were like that of a goat¡¯s as well- horizontal slits like embrasures carved into an autumnal wall of oranges, reds, and golds. A thick mane of white hair coated its neck and shoulders like a divine scarf, and so too was there a plume at the end of a leonine tail. But the most remarkable feature of all- and the most notable- was the large horn spiraling from its head.


    A unicorn.


    A Divine Beast by classification. A Celestial by nature.


    After several moments of silent study, a probing feeling started to pang against my mind. Preceding an overbearing echo that rang in my skull. ¡®The humans who occupy the lake. You are their leader?¡¯


    ¡®I am.¡¯ I replied in my head without any noticeable sign from the outside, yet he still seemed to understand me.


    ¡®It has been ages since I have sensed one of your kind, Nox.¡¯ The unicorn said as it circled me slowly. ¡®The forest both yearns for and detests you, for death begets life anew. But your darkness corrupts. Nox, undeniably. And yet, never have my eyes fallen on a being such as yourself. A Nox Devil who has, swirling in harmony within him, the Wicked Shadow of Death and the Divine Brilliance of Life. Tell me, night elf, what are you called?¡±


    I stayed still, kept my eyes mostly forward as he circled me- studied me carefully. ''I am Amun. And I¡¯m only half a... night elf.''


    After positioning himself just before me, he shook his horn in disagreement; causing it to wave precariously close to my brow while his voice rattled my brain into pudding. ''A Child of Lilith all the same. All the same, a child of the Fae. Like a torrent, the Faewoods runs through you, I can see. And so too does the Plane of Darkness. The Underworld. The Eternal Empty.''


    ''And what are the Faewoods?'' I asked with genuine curiosity; though I half knew the answer.


    <<A place to be described by the Fae.>> The unicorn rattled in my mother¡¯s tongue while swaying his majestic head from side to side again. ''Your encroachment on the watering hole is my inquiry. Your occupancy has put the denizens of this forest in a state of unease. They fear you wish to¡­¡± Its head swayed away and immediately back to me. ¡°Civilize it.''


    ''We have no intentions to civilize anything.'' I shook my head. ''We only aim to seek shelter in the cave behind the waterfall two out of ten days per week. You have my word that my peers will refrain from attacking or threatening the denizens of the forest without a just cause. And should one of them impose on the residents of the forest, I will personally intervene.''


    ''The forest and lake have long since been imposed on. You fish. You hunt. You fell trees and pluck forage as your heart desires.''


    ''Quantities aside, how is that any different than what naturally goes on in the forest?'' I quickly countered. ''Predators hunt prey. Other animals consume detritus and vegetation. They all alter their environment to make their dens and nests. What we¡¯ve done is no different. We¡¯ve felled a few trees to construct our cove and won¡¯t be taking much of anything else. Only food, as all animals need to eat, yes?''


    ''There is logic to your words, on the surface.'' The unicorn admitted. ''Beneath them lies misunderstanding. The denizens of the forest have no concern with those you call your ¡®peers.¡¯ They are concerned about the Dark One. Nox. You, the carrier of wicked death. As the guardian of this forest, I cannot allow you to remain.''


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    "Then that poses a problem.¡± I sighed, removing all traces of friendliness from my face and voice. ¡°Cause I¡¯m not leaving.¡±


    ''Then I will remove you myself!''


    In a flash of white, the unicorn raised back on its hind legs to nearly smack me in the chin with its hooves before I could jump back and withdraw some mana. Neighing loudly, the unicorn responded by slamming down to send jagged cracks arcing out in every direction. As they spread, the ground crumbled and broke apart to reveal a mass of vines whipping forth to grasp onto me while the unicorn lowered its horn to charge.


    With my avenues of escape closed off and my unwillingness to void everything, I could only stand in place to flood as much Shadow Mana as possible into my body before the horn dipped into my ethereal sternum. Despite my efforts, a blinding flash of light bloomed in front of me just before a searing pain ripped through my chest. Before I knew it, the ground turned beneath my legs and I was falling. Or rather, being pushed.


    Spitting blood, I thrust my arms out before me. Sending a wave of purple mana past the unicorn and into the ground behind it. Its stomps grew louder and eventually, the unicorn began to heave and trudge in the dirt.


    ¡®You affect the environment to negate my magical resistance.¡¯ It huffed at the mounds behind its hooves. ''Clever.''


    ''Don''t talk while you fight, you''ll bite your tongue.'' Spitting again, I reached out a gravity-infused palm and gripped the horn. Then gripped it with my death-filled free hand and pulled.


    With gravity acting on my side, the horn spiraled out of my chest like an auger set in reverse with minimal effort. But the pain was immense. Choking blood, I released the domain I spread behind him in favor of spawning an Artificial Well. And with a blood-filled scream, I hurled the beast over my shoulder. In a blur of white and tan, the unicorn rocketed into the distance. Leaving in its wake a cloud of tree dust and leaves standing high above the canopy.


    Wasting no time, I released one of the ethereal hearts formed in my Spiritual Body from all the life I''ve leached. Like a bomb, it burst into a dense cloud of necrotic mana that swelled around my chest to reform bone and restitch flesh in the most painful way imaginable. But before I was fully healed, another flash of light came from my right. Jumping back, I wheeled around in time to see the last of its scars heal just before the light shifted, then intensified into a blue fluid that shrouded its body like a second skin.


    Squinting, I threw out a bolt of lightning and, sure enough, the arc of electricity bounced off to slam into a nearby tree with a resounding crash. Thus with my suspicions confirmed, I summoned the Reaper to my hands. But not before the unicorn vanished in a flash of white.


    Before I could even turn, a pair of wrecking balls slammed into my shoulder blades. Lifted from the ground, I somersaulted forward and almost reflexively spawned an Artificial Well. Gripping the Reaper overhead, I then front-flipped just as the unicorn returned its hind legs to the ground and sent a sliver of Death through my hands. The mechanism hidden within the Reaper responded with a sharp click. A moment later, a second snap pierced the air as the joint slammed into place, adding just a bit more force behind the blade as it descended.


    The blade came to a sudden halt as it sank deep into taut unicorn ass, causing the beast to thrash and howl as it tried to free itself from my wicked blade. I recovered in time to see another flash of light spread through the forest just before another pair of hooves swung toward my face. Like limbo, I leaned back low enough to hover inches above the ground. Right below the freshly healed belly of the beast as his hind legs came down to stomp me flat. But the weave was on my side. Through the ambient mana alone I calculated where his hooves would land and nestled myself between them instead of rolling out of dodge. And with palms fueled with temporal mana, I reached out to either leg just before he could summon more of those annoying vines.


    With the slightest touch of my finger, life began surging into me at a rate I never thought possible. But not Usurped Life. The vitality I stole came in the form of Split Time. But not before the unicorn began thrashing, charging forward out of my grip. Refusing to let him get away, I mixed Gravitational Mana into my hands and the unicorn responded with an immediate dip. The greenery, the trees, and most importantly, his legs dragged across the dirt on their way back to my hands. Causing his screams and howls to rise to an ear-piercing crescendo. He thrashed harder on contact, eventually causing me to lose my grip again and flick a Gravity Bullet at him in protest. Still, he scrambled harder. He kicked and thrashed and howled as he bucked himself to his knees, where he managed to land a kick square to my jaw.


    Releasing my focus on my spells, I Bamfed a few meters away and cursed under my breath while I healed. It¡¯s what I got for experimenting with my opponents, I supposed. Something I would¡¯ve never done in my past life. Telin¡¯s words may have influenced my personality for the worse. I wasn¡¯t as unfuckwithable as I thought I¡¯d be. At least not yet.


    After tossing both my weapon and my amiability aside, I assumed an open palm stance and charged. The unicorn responded accordingly, lowering his head in preparation to impale me for the second time. Just before we made contact, I arrested my momentum with a powerful stomp and pulled myself back with an Artificial Well. With the unicorn¡¯s horn now inches before my chest, I molded a bit of Void Mana into the shape of a scalpel around my finger and flicked it through the base.


    With wide eyes, we both watched the horn cartwheel in the air between us. I reached out for it. He dug his hooves into the ground. Then, I accelerated the horn towards its origin point with an indiscriminate gravitational pull.


    Like a bullet from a high-powered rifle, the horn bored through the unicorn''s skull to force bone, blood, and brain matter through the path of least resistance. As the sonic cracks rippled up my arm to amplify the sound, viscera plumed from the unicorn''s eyes, nostrils, and ears like a fleshy volcano before the entire head and much of the neck spread to the four winds. Only to be caught by the unignorable pull of my Artificial Well.


    All that remained was the bloodied and once-graceful body of the unicorn slumped on the ground like a sack of meat and a ball of gore orbiting around me. That and a ruined forest.


    ¡°Nice!¡± I growled in satisfaction. I felt no remorse or loss for the dead unicorn before me. It was his choice to fight me. On the contrary, I only felt a burning excitement that I hadn¡¯t experienced since I first began to use magic. At long last, I could test the theory I¡¯d thought about the most since being born in this world. But first, I made a quick Artificial Well to pool what wound up being around 50 liters of blood into sealed bottles. And then came the butchering process.


    With the help of my Doppelganger, I managed to store the meat, a few bones, the organs, hide, and of course, the horn in my Shade Pocket in just under half an hour. If everything I learned was true, the paltry pile of bones before me was all I needed to raise the unicorn as a Shadow Undead. The condition of a corpse was only something to consider when I wasn¡¯t the one to slay it. But the creatures I killed myself- especially with my magic- would always belong to me.


    With that in mind, I pulled mana through my Void Core. First through the shadow layer, then through death before I withdrew it from the sides of the organ to guide it towards my throat to be concentrated into a dense mass while I focused. I imagined its soul ascending from the Under to plunge through the window that was its shadow. The shadow, not the flesh. That¡¯s what it would use to assume a material form on the Mortal Plane once more.


    In reality, it wasn¡¯t necessary. But this was a one-time deal. So I took a moment to reaffirm the result before I layered the mana into my voice and muttered. "Report."

 146 - Death Mount

    ¡°Report.¡±


    The reaper¡¯s voice echoed from my lips, sending a deathly tone reverberating through the air like ripples on water while a stream of abyssal death siphoned in and around the corpse. Like an inversed smoke stack of umbral clouds, my sorcerous arcana billowed around the traces of fresh meat, drops of silver blood, and the pile of yellowed bone to amass in the shadow beneath it. From a shaded patch of grass to a tenebrous pit of illogical proportions, the darkness darkened and coalesced and condensed until a necrotic shockwave signaled the breakage of its tension.


    In a powerful thrust, a glowing, blue-green cloven hoof broke through its window to the Material Plane. Whipping around, it found purchase on a piece of bone and pulled, clawing its way up as it dragged itself down. A leg of gray-black fur seemed to grow as the desiccated flesh was clawed and bitten and stomped into the pool of darkness below it. And with a final leap, the reborn unicorn slammed down on its corpse; sending what remained of its flesh to the Under in place of its soul.


    An equal exchange to satisfy the realm of the dead.


    Like Grandpa Lich¡¯s undead, he was made of both physical and shadow flesh. Not blood but ectoplasm flowed in his veins. His fur held the same sheen and luster as it did in life, only in a night-black hue that was leagues better than it¡¯d been before. The fur that¡¯d been around his neck, hooves, and tail had changed to take on the likeness of a midnight smoke that lingered in the air around it. And the eyes- like the hooves, glowed in the same blue-green brilliance as the arcana within my Well. And so too did his horn.


    However.


    ¡°I have no intention of riding you. Was that your choice?¡± I motioned to the umbral saddle, bit, and bridle and felt a sudden moment of relief in the same instance. Immediately after, I saw myself through his eyes.


    I was as I¡¯d been in my past life, for the most part. 1.75 meters tall with an athletic build. Long locks of hair, currently tied in a loose ponytail that hung to my lower back. The only difference in visible light was the pointed ears. But through the eyes of this undead unicorn, I saw something that probed my mind into recalling one thing again and again.


    Through a vision much like mine, I saw a vortex of mana settling to a stillness around a black body. A body of humanoid shape. Albeit one devoid of light. It was only made visible through the pale brilliance of¡­ something posed behind it. Like an accretion disk falling around an event horizon, it was the brilliant deadliness of nature in its purest form. A black hole.


    ¡®So that¡¯s what you meant? The Wicked Shadow of Death and the Divine Brilliance of Light.¡¯


    ¡®It is.¡¯ The unicorn lowered its horn in sync with its resonant voice humming in my head. ¡®You are duality personified. That was my first interpretation. Though, perhaps that is not true. You may be the line between opposing things instead. I am still unsure. However, I am sure you possess both Wickedness and Divinity in you. So, perhaps¡­ neutrality?¡¯


    "Two sides of the same coin, and the line set between them," I murmured. Mostly to myself. Then I answered. ''As am I. But feel free to standby and think about it for as long as you like, Carbury.¡¯


    ¡®I shall cherish the name.¡¯ He bowed. And with a single step, dissipated into an umbral stream to cascade into my shadow.


    ¡°Now then.¡±


    With a sigh, I accessed Peek Pocket and looked through my memory to withdraw and organize my sentient kills in chronological order. All 180 of them. From there, I separated the 114 soulless ones before I split them into thirds. Minus my first kill. He was a withered corpse that became my first ever Burning Soul. Unbeknownst to me at the time, both his body and weapon had been preserved for me to raise later down the line. That went for my second kill and every other person I executed at Corvus Tower.


    After setting him aside, I gathered two-thirds of the remaining soulless bodies and sent death mana into my voice to incant. ¡°Decay.¡± The familiar ashen smoke spread from my fingers like snakes lashing out at their prey to burn away the skin, dissolve the flesh, and disintegrate the sinew of 75 corpses before I gathered more mana into my throat and said. ¡°Report.¡±


    More so than last time, a wave of death bloomed from my Well. As it flowed into the skeletons, it created a symphony of chattering bones as they began to rise one by one. Driven by my arcane necromantic sorcery, the skeletons turned their empty eyes to me and raised their hands to their brow in a unified salute.


    ¡®Close but no cigar.¡¯ I mentally sighed. ¡°Twenty of you will be my labor crew. Those chosen will be the foundation for my undead Battalion of Builders; my Bob¡¯s.¡± I pointed to my side. Then paused to watch them immediately divide themselves. ¡°Twenty-five of you will be close-quarters fighters. Fifteen of you will be ranged fighters- either archers, spear throwers, or crossbowmen. Ten of you will be scouts. And the remaining five of you will serve alongside me."


    Before I could finish the last word, the skeletons scattered into their groups. An easy feat, considering they retained no memories, skills, or abilities from their past lives. They were all blank slates essentially. Through time and through absorbing life energy from those they killed, they could gain sentience. But that was a long road to travel unless I just flooded their bodies with more death mana. Which, coincidentally brought me to suspend the still-unanimated corpse before me and once again meld death into my voice.


    ¡°Report.¡±


    He didn¡¯t shake. He didn¡¯t writhe. He only emitted an airy wail like the dry heaves of an endless last breath before he erected into a midair salute. A salute he maintained, even as I palmed his empty head and still chest. Only when I channeled necrotic energy into him did he move. The sounds of cracking bones echoed from his back as he haunched forward. A deathly wail escaped his lips, rising into a sorrowful howl as unbridled power overloaded his flesh. At first, preserving it. Then destroying what remained. With two loud pops, the eyeballs burst from the skulls to make way for umbral smoke trails that rose up into the sky. The skin- already withered into a thin sheet across the bones, retracted further to expose almost stone-like bones of his fingers and toes that quickly began to blacken as if frostbitten.


    Seconds passed and the trails of darkness pluming from its eyes began to glow with a soft blue-green radiance. A sign the undead had evolved passed a supernatural state of undeath and was beginning to develop a new, twisted sentience. But I poured death into it still. At half a minute, the dull radiance in its eyes bloomed into a burning fire of blues and greens that pooled from its chest, eyes, nose, and mouth like the shadows just were. I cut the flow at once. Then I canceled the gravity spell that left him suspended and watched him seamlessly drop to a knee.


    ¡°My undead do not kneel. It is demeaning. You are legionnaires. You salute."


    ¡°Ahhhhhh.¡± The draugr exhaled as he stood to hold his hand vertically before his sternum. Much like a monk would. Unprompted, the company of skeletons behind him lowered their collective salutes to hold their hands before their chest in the same manner.


    ¡°That works for now.¡± Grinning wide, I reached into the shade of a nearby tree to grasp the club the draugr wielded in life and laid it out flat in my palms. ¡°You were my first kill. Thus you shall be my greatest undead. And so, I name you Zaraxus. Prove your worth to me, and you shall be rewarded with more power and stronger equipment down the line.¡±


    ¡°Yes, my Liege.¡± He lowered his flame-filled skull.


    I, on the other hand, turned away from him to send tendrils of death shooting from my fingertips. As Zaraxus had done, the five skeletons I designated to work with me started to writhe and twist about until I finally broke the connection. ¡°This is your squad.¡± I motioned towards the five skeletons, all leaking trails of darkness through their eyes. ¡°They are Undead Knights, capable of leading the lesser undead behind you.¡± I motioned to the other skeletal warriors. Minus the Bob¡¯s. ¡°You are their Captain. Take your company into my shadow and standby. As for you.¡± I turned to the Bob¡¯s. ¡°Use the materials in my shadow to make tools and weapons for yourselves.¡±


    With a wave of my hand, I sent an umbral wave across them to deposit the saluting skeletons and their draugr captain in my pocket domain. Then turned to the remaining 38 soulless corpses. ¡°Report.¡±


    Again, a wave of arcane death spread from me after saying the word. The corpses shuddered in unison before they erupted in a cacophony of airy gasps and raspy moans. One by one, the fresh zombies shambled to their feet to stand in an arrangement of lazy poses that simply wouldn¡¯t do. I needed sprinters, not shamblers. So I spread a Death Cloud and let them leech off of it until their postures straightened and their dying groans subsided.


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    ¡°You all are the shock troops,¡± I said to them. ¡°The front line. The fodder. If you fall, I will raise you again and again until your flesh and bones are ash and dust. But if you keep standing. If you keep killing those I tell you to kill. You will grow. And maybe you¡¯ll become a draugr or something.¡± I mumbled, then sent them away with a wave.


    With them out of the way, the only things left were the 66 bodies suspended above and the dozens of animal corpses contained below. After deciding against picking and choosing which animals to raise, I decided to raise only the Menagerie, should they die. Unless of course, a particularly interesting and powerful beast came my way. A few of them were contained in my shadow- a steel-horned deer and pygmy boars to name a few. But they were reserved for another time. Instead, I turned my attention to the other corpse I had set aside for my reanimation spree.


    She- my second kill, was a burly woman who had shoulder-length hair when she was alive. What could be seen of it now was uneven on the top and sides, implying the sides had been kept shaven before her imprisonment. What remained of her face was a web of deep lacerations paired on the backside with a nape smashed purple and blue. ¡°Alright.¡± I pulled her and the other 65 corpses closer. ¡°Report.¡±


    Unlike the prior two times, little mana was leeched from my body. Instead, like the first time, the necrotic energy came from the wickedness of my voice, still lingering in the air, beckoning 66 umbral hands to shoot forth from pools of darkness and drag their flesh to the depths below. After clawing and fighting their way up, they saluted as one much like the skeletons did. The difference, however, was that their faces were as I remembered them. Albeit made of a nightly black skin that ranged in every shade of gray imaginable. Their armor and weapons had been copied out of the darkness like Carbury¡¯s bit and bridle while their fingernails, eyes, palms, teeth, tongues, and other hard or fleshy parts of their body glowed with the same light as my arcana.


    The burly woman was no different. The leather wrapping that functioned as a breast band was like a pale white compared to the inky flesh of her skin. The fur pauldrons were a stage in between, with umbral hair that left lingering trails flowing in the gentle breeze. The stitching within her armor and clothes glowed with the same brilliance as my arcana too. As did the web of scars strewn about her face and the fat bruise that wrapped around the side of her neck. But still, she smiled. Wider than anyone could ever think possible, she and the undead behind her smiled with unbridled gratitude. I could feel it. Much in the same way I felt Carbury¡¯s awe, I could feel their gratification, pride, and eagerness.


    Or perhaps mine.


    ¡°Welcome, my first company of undying shadows.¡± I spread my arms wide. ¡°As of now, you are infants. As newly raised shadows, you are incapable of speech and significantly weaker than you were when you died. Through war, you will grow stronger. You will regain your capacity to speak. As my second kill, you will forever serve by my side.¡± I pointed to the woman- Lana, I decided. ¡°That leaves sixty-five of you to prove yourselves.¡± I turned to the rest of them. ¡°The best of you will one day find yourselves as the senior undying shadow of one of my Legions. The rest of you will be below them, or her.¡± I gestured to Lana. ¡°Before that, you all need to use this mental link we have to train the mindless ones in there.¡± I pointed to my shadow. ¡°Teach them how to build. Teach them how to fight smart. Teach them how to keep up to my standard. You¡¯re dismissed.¡±


    After a salute, they all lunged forth to form a thick stream of darkness that funneled into my shadow. Leaving me alone once again in an unremarkable patch of forest.


    ¡°Whelp.¡± I reached into my Pocket with a sigh. And behind my blunt came a dark-skinned hand.


    ¡°Does this mean I don¡¯t have to roll these anymore?¡± My Doppelganger grinned.


    ¡°That it does, me.¡± I grinned. ¡°That it does.¡±


    ---


    As I somewhat expected, I returned to see Doyle standing on the precipice of our territory like a disgruntled mom. Hand on the hips, foot-tapping, brows furrowed tightly. He stared and even yelled as I flew overhead, acting as if I didn¡¯t see him. I knew either he or my peers would question me upon my return. Most likely both. But for whatever reason, I chose the latter. Thankfully, Carbury led me far outside the range of most of my classmates. Only Winston, Zakira, Urshure, and Doyle seemed to have sensed anything. And Scarlett was as enthusiastic as she was when I¡¯d left.


    I told them a partial truth. That a beast attacked me and I killed it. Though I openly denied sharing about what it was on account of maintaining the creature¡¯s wishes to remain out of sight in life. An excuse Scarlett seemed willing to accept. With their inquiries done, the class dispersed and went back to their business. I, on the other hand, took a bowl from the hearth and ate to gather my thoughts for the future. Then beckoned the squad leaders into the meeting room when Doyle returned.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I sighed. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve all noticed. But a lot of us are getting bored. So, I want to plan a raid in the upcoming weeks to torment one of the parties and rack up some points.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Doyle pried himself off the wall.


    ¡°Essentially, my goal is to lure someone in Apple or Baker Party out of their hole and kidnap them. To do that, we can use Zakira¡¯s ability to charm people. Or.¡± I cleared my throat to assume Doyle¡¯s voice. ¡°I can mimic one of their voices.¡±


    ¡°W- what?¡± Doyle stammered forth.


    ¡°A quirk of my nature.¡± I grinned. It was indeed true, being both a skill I had in my past life and something easily doable with my sensitive ears and drow tongue. Still, it was an ability that perfectly synergized with the Eternal Eye and something I rarely made use of.


    ¡°Instead of tasking one of the teams with scouting around for hundreds of kilometers, I¡¯ll use my summons to scout out a path in our absence. If that¡¯s allowed.¡± I turned to Doyle.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not against the rules.¡± He shrugged. ¡°After all, returning to find your base to be overrun by monsters is a real occurrence. If they can get past the enchantments that keep them out, that¡¯s more merit to you as a summoner.¡±


    ¡°All you had to say was yes,¡± I muttered as I turned back to my squad leaders. An ever-regal Duke, a bouncing Samson, and an ever-eager Slate. ¡°Very well. They¡¯ll scout their locations and forge a path to their bases. Then we¡¯ll mount a surprise attack. It¡¯ll be a proper blitz like last time. In the chaos, we¡¯ll capture a few of theirs and retreat. What do you think?¡±


    ¡°I think it sounds awesome!¡± Samson beamed.


    ¡°The potential for danger is high.¡± Duke stroked his feathered finger across his beak- a habit he¡¯d picked up as of late. ¡°But so is the prospect of experience.¡±


    ¡°I accept the challenge!¡± Slate grinned wider than he¡¯d been grinning already.


    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled.¡± I clapped in resolution. ¡°Go spread the news.¡±


    While they left in various stages of excitement, Doyle crossed the now-empty space with a few strides to settle in the seat before me with a deep sigh. Leaning to his side, he pulled out a cigarette and offered me one. An offering. A gesture meant to build rapport. To probe me into being truthful with him for once instead of acting as fickle and dishonest as the infamous Everandus Cole.


    Knowing that, I took it anyway. I locked my eyes on him as I lit the smoke, inhaled deeply, and blew out a thick cloud that lingered in the air between us.


    Knowing that, I decided to be honest. If only just to see where it¡¯d take me.


    ¡°What happened out there?¡±


    ¡°I killed a unicorn.¡±


    ¡°Killed-¡± he chuckled dryly. Looked away. Puffed his cigarette and pulled his eyes back to me with a glaze of fear spread over his eyes. ¡°Unicorns are guardians of the forest.¡± He laughed again- despairingly. ¡°They keep too many dangerous creatures from entering.¡±


    ¡°Well, maybe there¡¯ll finally be a challenge for me in these woods.¡± I snorted.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ well, I doubt you care.¡± He grimly whispered. ¡° But they say killing a unicorn has dire consequences. It angers the Gods. Puts you on their shit-list. Curses you.¡±


    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t have attacked me if it didn¡¯t want to die.¡± I returned his warning with a grim smirk. ¡°And you¡¯re right. I don¡¯t care about how the Gods feel. I¡¯m a Devil. They¡¯ll never care for me. And curses are easily reversed by my kind.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Doyle cackled. ¡°What¡¯d you do with the body?¡±


    ¡°I disposed of it.¡±


    He seemed taken aback but still kept his cool. ¡°So then, the corpse is still out there?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Nothing of it remains. Not even dust.¡±


    ¡°Alright!¡± Doyle sighed. ¡°Enough with the word games, tell me exactly what happened out there!¡±


    I sighed and decided that actions would explain everything so I summoned Carbury. The pool of darkness spreading behind me captured Doyle¡¯s attention at once. Giving him a proverbial front-row seat to watch the undead unicorn take a few graceful steps into the light.


    ''What my Liege says is true.'' I heard Carbury tell Doyle telepathically. ''I beckoned him to speak and determined he should be eliminated. I failed. I know not what happened between then and him calling out for my soul. But now I am here.''


    "And now you serve him?''" Doyle commented. "How does that make you feel?"


    ''Gratified,'' Carbury replied before Doyle could even finish. ''The gods would not have claimed my soul. To be tormented by devilkin for all eternity in the Underworld, or to be given a second life in service to the Sun and Moon. What would you choose?''


    "I suppose you have a point," Doyle commented to himself as his gaze trailed off and lingered in obvious thought. ¡°This is unbelievable."


    ¡®No more talk of the moon.¡¯ I told Carbury through our link. ¡®They are unaware that I possess that power. And they don¡¯t even know what a moon is.¡¯


    ¡®Yes, my Liege.¡¯ He mentally bowed.


    I returned him to my shadow and turned back to Doyle. ¡°Yeah. Try not to tell anyone, would you?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Doyle chuckled maniacally to himself as he stood to his feet and pulled out a cigarette. Then walked towards the door shaking his head.


    With Doyle gone, I returned to my quarters- a simple room with naught but a pillow and desk inside, and pulled out the skull. ¡°Simion Lumbarde, Report.¡±


    At the sound of the order, the necrotic energy pulsed within his skull. Forming into smoke trails of darkness that plumed from his eye sockets until they were illuminated by the blue-green embers embedded within the pits of his eyes. And then he ripped himself from my hand to float about me.


    Unlike Carbury, Simion had the exact same appearance as before. The only difference was the cloud of darkness that surrounded him like a hood. That, and the limited sense of connection that he shared with Zaraxus. But besides that, he was unremarkable. As my first floating skull and historical adviser, he needed much more than that. Gilded teeth. Inlaid metals in the cracks in his skull. Jeweled eyes. Simion Lumbarde would look like the gentleman he was in life. But like many things, that would come in time. So I stuffed him into my shadow before he could begin blabbering on or screaming.


    ¡°Welcome to the team.¡±


    Not through our link, but through the umbral soup of my Pocket, I felt him wander off into my underworld and begin forming himself a lair much like the Menagerie above them. Leaving me in silence where my mind trailed on the words Carbury said before.


    My Liege.


    ¡®I suppose I truly am a sovereign of the dead now.¡¯ I snorted to myself. ¡®I wonder how Corvus will react.¡¯

 147 - Water Reworked

    ¡°You seem apprehensive.¡±


    I turned to the Triton with a more than contemptuous snort. ¡°You¡¯re fairly strong, right?¡±


    ¡°Fairly?¡±


    ¡°Tell me, have you ever struggled to decide how to go about a battle? Currently, I¡¯m struggling to decide whether to use my body or my weapons. Or should I use my magic? My summons, maybe? What do you think?¡±


    As pride dictated, Zohnos met my amiable smile with a demeaning sneer as he strode across the lift with a regal sweep of his hand. ¡°This is no mere battle, Amun! This is a duel. To be fought on equal terms and with honor! As our best selves.¡±


    ¡°If you say so.¡± I turned away with a sigh. ¡°I have better things to do anyway.¡±


    Within a few seconds, the distant sound of lapping water trickled into my ears. Looking up, I saw the grayscale roof open up to reveal an expanse of calm waters surrounding a comparatively small island. Freshwater by accounts of the smell, or lack thereof. Though it wouldn¡¯t be for long.


    A deep rumble signaled the completion of our transit. Bringing us to a wide dais of tiled stone surrounded by a vast expanse of calm blue water. ¡°We have our challenger, Zohnos Lagunath!¡± Zeff¡¯s voice rang around us. Yet the triton simply stared in disbelief- almost longingly at the small sea around him. ¡°And the challenged, Amun!¡±


    ¡°To fight as my best self, huh?¡±


    ¡°Ten seconds! Get ready!¡±


    Either my words or Zeff¡¯s announcement pulled Zohnos¡¯ attention to me. He stared, algae-like brows raised high with expectation. Or curiosity.


    ¡°Nine!¡±


    ¡°I am a Shadow Necromancer.¡±


    ¡°Eight!¡±


    ¡°You have to make your way through legions of undead-


    ¡°Seven!¡±


    "-before you get to fight me at my best self.¡±


    "Six!"


    ¡°I¡¯m also a Devil.¡±


    ¡°Five!¡±


    ¡°So I¡¯ll make it as hard as possible.¡±


    ¡°-our!¡±


    ¡°Then I shall treat you as such!¡± Zohnos sneered.


    ¡°Three!¡±


    ¡°And slay you as I would a foul devil!¡± Zohnos whipped his coral-made trident overhead before Zeff shouted. ¡°Two!¡±


    Between then and one, I split a stream of arcana through my cores and immediately meshed them back together to form a dense ball of crackling energy that flickered between black and white.


    Just before one, I poured more arcana into it. Pushing it to the point of sending jagged arcs of Purple Lighting in random directions. Meanwhile, Zohnos stepped back, darting his eyes between the waters and me before they focused on my finger; where a small but not insignificant portion of some type of dark energy was concentrating. Rising in potency until Zeff finally shouted. ¡°Fight!¡±


    Zohnos leaped back at once, aiming for the seas behind him. And I mirrored his actions almost perfectly. While he spun about to face the water and dove in, I sent my sphere of umbral electricity flying into the air above with nothing more than a small mental ¡®push.¡¯ As it ascended, I fell into the depths with a spiritual body drenched in EM arcana tuned to the infrared, shifting my flesh from its usual dark brown to a burning red before it glowed with a solar radiance. And in a great flash of light and steam, I made contact with the water and fell.


    Like a skydiver, I dropped. Plummeted through stream after jetstream of ascending vapor until I spun and slowed to a grinding halt by the pull of an Artificial Well. Far above. Black and white flashes could be seen stabbing at the roof in a maddened frenzy, illuminating the raging umbral clouds around them as if a strobe of pale light had been placed within. While initially stagnant, they now tumbled and toiled against the rising pillars of steam to condense and precipitate an inky liquid on the swiveling head of scales.


    Pit pat. The rain fell on his head and mixed with the seaweed-like strands of his hair, causing him to flinch immediately. Cursing under his breath, he swept his arm in a crescent motion overhead and left a wall of water trailing in his wake. Half a meter thick at the center and shaped like a domed shield, it contained some strange magic that saw my Nightly Rain bead off like water on a hydrophobic skin.


    I rounded the pillar to casually lean against the stone and rest a cigarette in my mouth before he could shout the obligatory phrase. Then allowed my voice to meld with the darkness as I said. ¡°Your first opponent is yourself.¡±


    While he was over a hundred meters away, he may as well have been standing in front of me when he wheeled about in search of my voice. Night vision or not, he couldn¡¯t see that far. And unluckily for him, his eyes were away from both me and his shadow as a flash of lightning illuminated the abyssal tempest I created. Behind him, the latter coalesced into a pristine copy of the proud Triton. Upon rising from the ground, it condensed and molded a mass of ambient darkness into the same likeness of Zohnos¡¯ weapon. A trident made of gilded metals, barnacles, and corals alike; then reared it back and pushed towards Zohnos¡¯ kidney without mercy.


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    Sensing something, Zohnos wheeled and leaped back just before the weapon connected, managing to mitigate the damage to a prong in the side of his stomach. Though he did not yield. He kicked off the ground instantly, reaching forth to grab his clone by the throat and send ripples of bright blue electricity coursing through its umbral body before he grabbed his trident by the base of the prongs and sent it through his clone¡¯s chest with a powerful thrust of electrical discharge.


    Still on its feet, the clone slumped to the side. Shimmered. Then dissipated before Zohnos¡¯ eyes, leaving a gaping wound in his side that he seemed to force himself to ignore. Though the grimaces that broke his face on occasion still betrayed him.


    ¡°Next comes my creatures of the night.¡±


    Trailing in the wake of my words was a wave of magical darkness. A gate that Humphrey stampeded through without my order, sending a deluge of inky water from his trunk like a water cannon as his deep grumbles reverberated through the air. Zohnos, on the other hand, stood his ground with his trident held high and sparking with electricity. Undaunted, Humphrey stomped forward, firing off his inky cannon towards Zohnos and his water shield.


    It impacted like a semi-truck, slapping against Zohnos¡¯ water wall to send splashes of clear and dark water every which way. Then the second semi-truck impacted in a bright flash of lightning and dark water that seemed to dwarf everything.


    Thrashing about, Humphrey trumpeted and stomped in anguish over the burning scars on his head, steadily being healed from the pitter-patters of Nightly Rain. He thrashed his head to the right, sending his trunk sweeping below Zohnos, cartwheeling in midair. Bellowing again, Humphrey whipped his trunk around to slam into his shoulders from above. Sending him rocketing into the ground just after his spear was released into the shadow elephant¡¯s neck.


    As if he could save Humphrey, I took advantage of the opening by flinging Stewie through the darkness. He landed on Zohnos¡¯ chest in a puff of umbral smoke, pulling his concentration away from Humphrey¡¯s rising feet. If only for an instant.


    With a gargled growl, Zohnos ripped Stewie from his chest before the former could even open its mouth and pulled it to his own. And in one swift motion, Zohnos bit down on the umbral rat and rolled backward onto his feet, where he staggered to vomit forth chunky black viscera onto the ground. Even with the pestilent taste, however, he summoned a wall of water to bring him to his feet and charged into Humphrey¡¯s stomp with haste.


    Almost like a wrestler, Zohnos stepped inside Humphrey¡¯s foreleg and threw his arms around it. And with all his might, he lifted. Heaved until veins pushed through his scales and blood gushed from his clenched jaws. A blood-curdling scream echoed through my night, outcompeting even the wails of a cornered Humphrey- a hollow scream that sent the rest of the Menagerie into a frenzy. But I didn¡¯t release them. I only watched Humphrey get flipped onto his side to be impaled again and again with Zohnos¡¯ electric trident until he was on the brink of death.


    My only action was to Bamf my knife into Humphrey¡¯s back just before he passed. Then I whispered through the shadows. ¡°You don¡¯t get to kill that one.¡±


    ¡°Now will you face me?¡± Zohnos sneered.


    ¡°If you beat him.¡± Laughing, I jerked my thumb over to a humanoid figure trotting into the monochrome arena. Then laughed harder as I tracked Zohnos¡¯ eyes moving from the charred bone of his feet freezing the dark waters to ice, to the dry, somewhat mummified skin spreading a fall of snow around him. When his eyes rested on the ethereal flame pouring from Zaraxus¡¯ eyes, mouth, and partially decayed nose, the draugr arched back to emit a blood-curdling screech and charged.


    ¡®Kill him and I¡¯ll send you straight to the void.¡¯


    With another nefarious grunt, Zaraxus acknowledged my order and bounded faster. And, frowning in disgust, Zohnos sprinted forward in kind.


    They made contact in a dazzling shockwave of sparks and necrotic energy that preceded a rapid blur of blues and grays. Following the rebound of their clash, Zohnos wheeled around to jab Zaraxus in the sternum with his pommel. But in a flash of brown and gray, Zaraxus parried the attack with his club- more a paddle lined with nails than a proper fat stick. In the same motion, Zaraxus whipped his charred, skeletal hand around in the form of a hook that dug into Zohnos¡¯ ribs like a meteor dragging to a halt in the dirt. Transferring enough power to send a visible ripple through the triton¡¯s body before he was flung away.


    Another flash of purple lightning erupted between them and Zohnos lurched to a grinding halt with his spear held high. Zaraxus screeched, raising himself onto his toes while Zohnos traced a circle around his frame with his trident. Mana surged behind him while blood was hacked up before him, only to be pulled into the bubble ring behind him by the strokes of his arms. A horrid hiss preceded an explosion of air and water strong enough to force Zaraxus back just a step.


    By the time he regained it, a living torpedo had crossed the immense distance between us. Its elbows were clamped to his sides. Its trident was held along its chest like a ship¡¯s keel as it rocketed away from Zaraxus and straight to me in mere moments.


    Within the span of a smaller moment, I sent a wave of purple mana over the Triton with a wave of the arm. But not before Zohnos was to make contact in a vibrant clash of sparks. Ironically so, the light of his attack served to illuminate the object of his despair and simultaneously highlight that very emotion in my eyes.


    With eyes as wide as coins, Zohnos watched his trident impale an umbral bosom and discharge lethal voltages through the strangely fleshy substance. Being as weak as she was, Lana thrashed about in silence until my Gravitational Wave pulled Zohnos back. As he fell, his trident withdrew from Lana¡¯s torso, sending clots of blue-green ¡®blood¡¯ splattering onto him and the floor just before he tumbled and eventually fell toward a certain draugr, readying his club overhead.


    A blood-wrenching crunch signaled Zohnos¡¯ head meeting the crude weapon. Like a doll had been tossed aside by a toddler, Zohnos cartwheeled into the far wall and slumped helplessly to the ground, where he remained in unconscious stillness.


    ¡°Good job, you two.¡± Still smiling, I turned my eyes to the fallen troops scattered here and there in the inky waters. ¡°And you two as well.¡± With a wave, I deposited the corpses and my minions into my shadow and did the same for the umbral energy lingering in the clouds and water. Then Bamfed up to the platform with nary a look behind me as I waited impatiently for the descent. The lingering storm would dissipate eventually if someone else didn''t handle it first. After all, I had better things to do.


    I had to commune.

 148 - Light Conversations

    After leaving the arena, I wasted no time in migrating to my usual spot to dive into my shadow. Like a meteor, I blew past my material goods and the Menagerie to arrive in my domain of death, where I paused in objective surprise.


    To put it simply, my subspace in the Underworld had evolved. No doubt as a result of Carbury being the first undead being to occupy it. It was a vast jungle filled with flora that made the blackwood trees of Deapou look like lawn weeds. They were Bodhi Tree size. And they were everywhere, spaced apart like intermittent city blocks arranged in an illogical pattern. As I descended, I saw that the Aegis and Burning souls that had been sentinels before my throne were now white and red wisps placed in an orbit above it. The throne itself was unchanged- a surprisingly comfortable seat that mirrored my magical mark to a T. The space ahead of it, however, was a perfect example of ecological harmony.


    Carbury made his ¡®home¡¯ to the right of my throne. A comparatively thick patch of moss denoted his bed, which had been placed auspiciously close to a still pond in which he intently stared. Simion sat across from him, and much closer to me. Poised atop a plush pillow, which itself sat atop a Corinthian-style pillar that rose from my throne¡¯s dais, he looked upon the space with as much wonder as I did. Despite his firsthand account of its creation.


    Carbury¡¯s Lake. Or rather, Carbury Lake was like a ¡®front yard beach¡¯ for my Necro Throne. In a way, it was similar to the lake outside the Cove. Only in much larger dimensions. The land between my dais and lake held a wide road that connected Carbury¡¯s bed with the great bridge looming ahead of me. Like towering gatehouses, twin keeps lined either side of the bridge. On the left was Lana¡¯s house. A proper castle that served as the barracks for my first 66 shadows. Naturally, that left Zaraxus to take up the keep on the right with his five minions. Together, they were both the gatekeepers and the wardens of the towering structure at the far end of the bridge.


    Even now, as I orbited with my wisps, shadows, skeletons, and zombies alike trailed to and from the place to either prepare for the next generation or train. Meanwhile, those without orders were scattered about in camps along the shores of Carbury Lake. Always in groups of at least five, they could be seen far and wide pulling sticks from the pocket of shade above and sharpening them into impromptu spears, clubs, or crude bows.


    ¡°Glad to see everyone¡¯s settled in nicely,¡± I said after falling into my throne with a needless grunt.


    ¡°I did not expect you to be fond of jesters, my Liege,¡± Carbury commented with a glare towards Simion.


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± I eyed the fire-eyed skull out of the corner of my eye. ¡°He can be quite annoying. But he has information about the sixth century. Information I find valuable. As do you.¡±


    ¡°Apologies, my Liege.¡± Carbury swayed his horn. ¡°I was never one to meddle in... civilized affairs.¡±


    ¡°That may be so, but your knowledge of the natural world is just as valuable,¡± I assured him. ¡°You have knowledge of many creatures, both magical and natural. Do you not?¡±


    ¡°Correct, my Liege.¡±


    ¡°And there you have it. Now.¡± I split my focus to summon the start of my legions before me. And in a sudden wave of deathly smoke, they were arranged before me in a neat formation.


    With but a squint of my eyes, I sent an order out to Lana and the company of shadows behind and watched them shuffle in a similar display of waving clouds. Like Zaraxus and his squad, Lana was now standing before the twenty-best shadows out of the 66. Half were fighters and half held some type of magic- and they were all the shadows who had magic; mostly of the elemental variety.


    One of them, my third kill, was a comparatively young man with an affinity for Blast Magic. As the name implied, his fire was as intense as a blast furnace and as concussive as a flashbang. But he was sent flying into a rock while I was raging all the same. As a result, he now had fat blots of glowing ¡®skin¡¯ that glowed behind his light leather armor. Naturally, the same feature applied to his hair and five-o¡¯clock shadow, both of which were an autumnal red in life and now glowed in the same blue-green brilliance as his teeth, nails, eyes, and tongue.


    As the first of my shadows to possess a magical affinity, he was named Caleb and was temporarily ¡®promoted¡¯ to Sergeant of the mage squad. In charge of nine other individuals who possessed variations of the other three basic elements. Plus Granite, Wire, Glass, Mud, Cyclone, and Spark Magics.


    Their counterpart was a squad of four fighters and five archers, led by a hulking man of a fighter I named Bruce. He was one of the bandits who loved torturing Hill Base. After torturing him in kind and letting his body sit in my under for months, he was reborn as a shadow with a glowing wedge-shaped scar on his sternum haphazardly covered by mismatched armor. Or, it was mismatched in life. Now, the sleek set of pauldrons, gauntlets, and greaves were all different shades of abyssal black and gray.


    ¡°Now then.¡± I turned to either side with a sigh. ¡°Carbury, Simion, there are a few individuals I want you to meet.¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Simion raised himself off his pillow and began looking around at once. ¡°There are more of us?¡±


    ¡°My, my!¡± The cold, femme voice called out from the necrotic darkness before the substance converged in the form of the Raven Reaper¡¯s body, towering over Carbury like an old crone from a horrific tale. ¡°A unicorn as your first undead?¡±


    ¡°It is as they say,¡± Azrael came forth next. ¡°Patience is a virtue.¡±


    ¡°A creature of legend!¡± Henry appeared next, grinning wide. ¡°I¡¯ve met many legendary creatures in my day, never a unicorn.¡±


    ¡°Hah!¡± Telman arrived with a mad cackle. ¡°I can practically hear Ev¡¯s frustrations from here! Well done, Amun!¡±


    While they surrounded and shrouded Carbury with praise and gleaming eyes, Simion helplessly bobbed and bounced around their perimeter in a desperate attempt to introduce himself. After watching him try and try again, I called him to my side through our link and gave my ancestors a few moments to finish cooing Carbury before I called out for their collective attention.


    ¡°I must say.¡± Corvus turned to me with a fanged grin. ¡°I am veritably impressed, Amun.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I amiably snorted. ¡°I¡¯ve graduated from ¡®boy¡¯ to my proper name, it seems.¡±


    ¡°Still as impudent as ever.¡± She playfully harrumphed. ¡°Regardless, you are now an official Shadow Necromancer. Congratulations.¡±


    I accepted her regal bow with one of my own and was surprised to see her standing straight with a new life in her eyes. ¡°If Shade brings fear, Death brings horror. Let that be your first lesson from me, Amun.¡± She bit at the words, then paused to let them sink in. ¡°As one born from the Void, your potential far exceeds any of ours.¡± She gestured to her descendants standing down her left side before turning her cold, undying eyes back to me. ¡°While your useless great-grandfather will teach you how to make the most of your undead minions, it would not hurt for you to tell how you wield death in its raw form.¡±


    ¡°I Usurp Life and Strength to counter my physical weakness as a Drow,¡± I said. ¡°Other than that, I¡¯ve been experimenting with souls and curses to prepare myself for the Artificer Class. I made a cursed weapon. But-¡±


    ¡°How did you make a cursed weapon?¡± Telman interjected with the widely intent eyes of a mad scientist.


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    ¡°I fused these to make a Gray Soul.¡± I pointed to the wisps around me. ¡°A soul with a neutral disposition. I used a cursed technique to imbue the soul with my magic and fuse it into the weapon with conditions to find a suitable user.¡±


    ¡°That is not a cursed weapon then.¡± Telman knowingly chuckled. ¡°It is a Sentient Weapon. But a remarkable achievement all the same.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°And tell me of your undead,¡± Corvus demanded with a regal wave behind her.


    ¡°I have thirty-eight zombies, seventy-five skeletons, sixty-six shadows, and one draugr. Five of the skeletons have been promoted to what my Grandpa Lich would call a Captain.¡±


    ¡°And what do you call them?¡± She turned back to me.


    "Sergeants. And the draugr is their Uncle.¡± I simply said. Then snickered at the abject confusion before drawing out the letters with darkness. ¡°An extension of Unc: Undying Night Captains.¡±


    ¡°Clever.¡± Telman mused.


    ¡°His name is Zaraxus,¡± I told them post-chortle. ¡°Other than them, I have two vampires and one of their spawn on the outside that are obsessed with me.¡±


    ¡°That is natural. You are a Sovereign of Shadow and Death. Even a lich will prostrate in your presence, Amun. Unless they come from our family, of course.¡± Corvus added with a prideful grin.


    ¡°Which, in turn, makes for powerful allies.¡± I grinned myself before splaying my hands out to my sides. ¡°This is Carbury. Though he¡¯s the first creature I raised, he won¡¯t be a mount. Nor will he be used to fight. Primarily, he¡¯ll be a healer. Secondarily, he¡¯ll be my nature adviser. Contrarily.¡± I turned my gaze to the bobbing skull. ¡°His counterpart is my sixth-century historical adviser and will soon become the undying loremaster of sorts for my legions. His name is Simion Lumbarde. He was born in the year five twenty-six, in the bustling city of Lumiere, northern Ulai. He was both a scholar and bard of the Tempest Guild. But he is first, a gentleman.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Simion snapped to me with equal parts gratitude towards me remembering his introduction and frustration at me for stealing his thunder. ¡°It is my pleasure to meet you!¡± He bobbed before each of my ancestors and even Carbury for some reason to give them a sort of umbral handshake. ¡°I and all from my time have heard tales of places such as this- such as yourselves. How fortunate it is to find myself in this domain, before all of you! How pleasurable indeed!¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I snorted. ¡°Now, with this growing vault of information before me, I¡¯d like to you all- particularly you, to humor me.¡± I squinted at the skull. ¡°What do you know about the Nox?¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s you.¡± Simion chuckled in nervous disbelief. ¡°That¡¯s the name of your Clan, isn¡¯t it? That was the name in my day. There were three of you. The Black Beetle, the Mad Void Monk, and the Lich King. Of course, they had many followers. But those three were the only direct descendants I was aware of.¡±


    ¡°Our name is different because our name was changed during the end of the Guild Wars,¡± Corvus stated. ¡°By the ¡®Mad Void Monk¡¯ himself. Cole Nox.¡±


    ¡°Ah, the Guild Wars!¡± Simion rocked. ¡°That started when I was just nine years old, it did.¡±


    ¡°And it did not end until the year seven seventy-two,¡± Corvus added with a wave down the line. ¡°About a hundred years before my dear Henry was born.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± The man himself leaned back in the pridefully nostalgic way that he did, grinning wide all the while. ¡°All that peace made pirating one of the most lucrative professions out there!¡±


    ¡°I, however, was born about a hundred years after it began. As things went, we were blamed for any atrocity committed during the Guild Wars,¡± Corvus explained. ¡°Eventually, we were blamed for the ruined state of Maru as a whole. By the end of the wars, antimagic weapons saw our forces depleted. Even with Cole, we were fighting a losing battle. And he was a half-high elf, thus he was quite powerful. And so, he used his power to gather us on an island off the coast of Phaegrath shortly after the Lich King''s demise. Half in the Material and half in Shadow, we were to remain hidden in plain sight. Waiting until the time comes for darkness to spread across the mortal realms once more.¡±


    ¡°So that explains that," I murmured. Then flicked my eyes to hers. ¡°But that begs the question-¡±


    ¡°Where are we originally from?¡± Corvus beamed after seeing the interest of all of us. Minus Carbury. ¡°Where do you think? We are from Ulai.¡±


    ¡°So then, it¡¯s safe to surmise there¡¯s another crypt there somewhere¡±


    ¡°I do not know.¡± Corvus dejectedly sighed. ¡°I lived alongside Cole for some one hundred and twenty years, yet he never cared to tell me much. He was quite... aloof, hence his moniker. After his demise, I have never been able to commune with him, as you are now. He refuses to see me. He has refused to see anyone. But you can enter his tomb.¡± She smiled. ¡°I cannot wait until you tell me all about it.


    ¡°But for now.¡± She turned to the towering fortress of deathly smoke looming behind them. ¡°Tell me, what is that building over there?¡±


    ¡°Tis the Shade Palace, Your Excellency.¡± Zaraxus bowed a degree lower upon my command. ¡°''Tis where the mindless and their superiors are trained by the Shades. All for the glory of the Legions.¡±


    ¡°Legions?¡± Azrael darted his raised brows between us.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I nodded. ¡°After planning a route around the Mortal Plane, I¡¯ve concluded that I¡¯ll need no less than twenty-seven legions comprised of millions of living and undying troops.¡±


    ¡°Fascinating!¡± Azrael gasped. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see what you create.¡±


    While a sudden rise of agreements rose from the men of my ancestry, Corvus split an inquisitive glare between Carbury and me. After shifting our gaze between us long after an awkward silence ensued, she strode to stand beside the unicorn and leaned forward as if she wanted to whisper into his ear. But stopped halfway to study me.


    ¡°Amun, dear?¡± She asked, then continued without awaiting my reply. ¡°Do keep in mind that whatever happens in your domain, stays in your domain. We all know the saying about the dead and tales after all. Your secrets are safe with us. Are they not, boys?¡± She threw daggers for eyes at her descendants. Who each hurriedly sent a wave of nods back in her direction.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be honest with you if that¡¯s what you''re asking.¡± I snorted. ¡°You have my word.¡±


    ¡°Now then.¡± She turned back to Carbury. ¡°You are both a Fae and a Celestial, yes? Touched by the Gods with knowledge and power?¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡± He lowered his horn.


    ¡°So then, you have access to spells most unevolved would not, yes?¡± She amiably waved her hand and frowned as she looked up in faux contemplation. ¡°Clerical abilities. Magical detection. The sensing of good and evil. Things of that nature, yes?¡±


    ¡°That is correct.¡± Carbury nodded again.


    ¡°Well, we are all in agreement that our descendant here is¡­ special.¡± She smiled at me. ¡°More special than being Drow would permit. He is far smarter than he should be, you see. He possesses arcana and dreams of an entity that could possibly be our first ancestor. But most importantly.¡± She leaned a bit closer. ¡°There is something inside him. Something I can¡¯t quite place. It feels¡­¡±


    ¡°Warm.¡± Azrael stepped in. ¡°I feel it too."


    ¡°It¡¯s light,¡± I said before Carbury could.


    ¡°W- what?¡± Corvus shook her head.


    ¡°One of my affinity cores is for Electromagnetism. A spectrum of energy, of which visible light is a small portion of.¡±


    ¡°While you are correct, you are simultaneously completely wrong, my Liege.¡± Carbury stepped between us, shaking his regal horn. ¡°The magic spurred from what you call an Affinity Core would not be as potent as the darkness in your spirit, but it does illuminate it like a pale light. This is the ''Moon'' to which I made reference. A name I garnered from your memory of our meeting, wherein you saw my white fur and thought of a pale light that is not of this world. Through that, I saw a glimpse of the word, Moon. Synonymous, it seems, with the pale light you mention.


    ¡°The Sun is what¡­¡± His head turned slightly. ¡°Lady Corvus senses within you. It is neither heat nor light, but a touch of Divinity. A Divine Soul. Eternal.¡±


    ¡°As in, blessed divinity?¡± Henry stomped forward. ¡°Who in the Seventeen Hells would bless a Devil?¡±


    ¡°Telin.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡± Azrael and Henry turned to me at once.


    But it was Carbury who answered, thankfully. Even then, however, his voice was just as airy and full of disbelief as Captain Darkblood¡¯s had been. ¡°The Eternal God, Telin, is the creator of the universe.¡±


    ¡°That, and the source of magic. And the hand behind the portals that connected the realms,¡± I added. Then paused to summarize my experience as neatly as I could before I began explaining. ¡°I am not from this universe, originally, if you couldn''t tell. I lived for over a hundred thirty years in a realm without magic, filled only with humans who mastered the art of war over the course of a quarter million years. When I died, I met a God who called himself Telin. He held this universe in the palm of his hand and told me I would be blessed with knowledge, power, and freedom within it. He told me I would face challenges as his champion. He told me I would become the Eternal God of this universe. All so he may judge me, to see if I am to join him and those like him once this universe comes to an inevitable end.


    ¡°However.¡± I sighed. ¡°Shortly after being born, I decided I didn¡¯t want to join him. I want to explore and learn everything there is to know about the realms until there is nothing left to explore and learn. Then I¡¯ll either make something new or find some uncharted realms to make a mess of. But, if what Telin says is true, I¡¯m certain I¡¯ll obtain a Prestige Cleric Class that¡¯ll evolve me into a living god. And if what we think of our ancestry is true, I think my Sorcery Class will evolve me into a¡­ devilish void dragon, like our ancestor I see in my dreams. The God of Devils, among other things.


    ¡°And so, with that in mind, I¡¯ve aspired to bring the knowledge of my world into this universe, filled with magic, and combine them to make the greatest guild and empire to ever exist. Legions most indomitable and unyielding, even to the Gods."

 149 - Progress Report

    After a quite lengthy interrogation from my ancestors, I slept and rose into a seamless schedule of studying, training, experimenting, and teaching.


    The process began with me stirring awake in the early morning before Doyle¡¯s class. After greeting Zakira, I made a quick trip to my Under to mentally reorganize my Bobs and restructure their ranks before I promoted them all with more power. The promotions warranted another necrotic deposit for even the draugr. Not to empower him further, though it still would. But to evolve his basic level of sentience into a proper intellect. He could speak. He could parrot the things I knew. But he couldn¡¯t think for himself. This recent change would mitigate that. It would place his intelligence on par with a fairly smart adult. Not to mention, they gained the ability to siphon life from their prey and consume dead flesh to regrow what was lost. Those were my main reasons to promote my laborers. However, it simultaneously posed a problem.


    The other ¡®rewards¡¯ for their promotions involved a return to the Shade Palace for education and training. That, and an enchanted or otherwise magical weapon. Things I was either unable to or couldn¡¯t afford to make. What I could make was a sentient weapon, but those were reserved for the higher ranks. In the end, I decided to add their necessary tools and an improved weapon for Zaraxus to the height of my priorities. Then, I went through the painstaking process of naming my twenty laborers according to their convention.


    Naturally, the ¡®Big Boss¡¯ of my undead labor bosses- the superintendent if you will, was Bob. A skeleton who was visibly no different than the rest, but one tasked with mastering each of the nineteen jobs his subordinates held. Robert and his buddy, Bo were designated as the lumberjack and carpenter respectively. Though, the latter wasn¡¯t to be confused with Beau, the Barber. But I digress.


    With their newfound intelligence, the goal was to mold them into non-hostile undead who cared only for their crafts. In doing so, they would one day assume my Doppelganger¡¯s place and become the instructors for the nineteen classrooms I formed within the Shade Palace. While still barren and undetailed, I led them through the ostentatiously arched entrance to stop in the center of its first floor. A vast parade field, walled on each side by five voluminous alcoves that were domains in their own rights.


    Upon entering, Bob and Bo veered away from the group to enter the alcoves sitting adjacent to the entrance, wherein vast, lumber-filled classrooms adorned with whatever saws, hammers, and other tools I had in my inventory. Bert, my Mason, had his own altered environment in which he tirelessly worked as well. A ¡®badlands¡¯ of towering stones and broken boulders he was meant to cut into stone blocks. As did Roberts, the builder, who spent her days building and having various structures judged by my clone before they were torn down and constructed again.


    Besides the four, virtually all of the others were to receive book instructions rather than delve into their crafts like the others. For two of them, their lessons consisted of reading umbral tomes ¡®written¡¯ by my clone out of the ambient energy. Rob, for example, read about the various conditions and nutrients crops needed for high yields while Robby learned much the same, only for domesticated animals. The rest were instructed or assisted in some way by a shadow analog of the materials they would be working with. Materials that were too expensive for them to ruin with failed attempts or perhaps be corrupted by the foul energies of the place.


    Rubi, for instance, sat in his diner to learn of nutrients, the food pyramid, and other locally unknown aspects of food before he attempted to cook a number of umbral dishes. Robbi learned how to process tenebrous leathers and manipulate textiles. Robin hunted amorphous renderings of game creatures while Robi sat next door, butchering creatures of the same constitution. Rupert tended bees, Beauregard made boats, Beau, of course, cut hair and Rod learned the breeding habits, diets, and everything else I knew of marine life fish before she attempted to master fishing in the faux ¡®ponds¡¯ and ¡®seas¡¯ in her room.


    And then there were five. Five had yet to christen their domains.


    Berto and Albertus were Bamfed to the Cove to practice their respective crafts- ceramics and metallurgy, alongside Robertus and Robetus who spent all hours of the day and night making shoddy but usable armor and weapons for the other minions. Alberto, on the other hand, was put on standby with the 15 skellys, 10 zombies, and a shadow to act as a gofer. On standby they remained until Olga¡¯s class came around, wherein I had them excavate a secret level 5.5 in the mines, giving me free rein to spend her classes smelting and crafting an array of working tools for me and my Legions. Tools of the variety that had yet to exist in this world.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    The sub-level began as a deep tunnel that ended at a dead end on the northeastern side of the mine''s edge. After warding off enough space for them to work, I sealed them inside with one shadow and left them to work. By the end of that week, the meager cave had grown into a deep web of caverns that stretched through the unnatural geology found below the Wilds. Like the mines the sub-level started from, ores of iron, copper, and other common metals were found at auspiciously regular intervals. And eventually, so too were ores containing tin and wolframite. As they wheeled around to the south- near the shores of the vast lake these cliffs overlooked, Alberto¡¯s crew found bauxite. A prized ore that would undoubtedly have its uses in the future. But still, no mithral. No adamantine ore. Unsurprisingly.


    Come the following week, I found myself with a meager deposit of ores smelted by the Bobs over the weekend that was added to over the course of the week, resulting in a veritable fuck-ton of bronze and brass on top of those I already had. Naturally, those materials were passed off to Robertus, Robetus, and sometimes Robbi. Who, having no need for food, water, or sleep, managed to cast enough crude weapons and armor for every skeleton and zombie to have their own plus a replacement. Gladius¡¯, spearheads, knives, and other weapons in a matter of days. And shields, bows, quivers, and arrows were finished by the end of that week. All made of either bronze, wood, or both and all made a step above shoddy at best.


    With the exception of my squad, the rest of my undead were always on the hunt. Always on the prowl. Patrolling in an ever-expanding ring to accrue as much experience as they could before they found something interesting enough to warrant my investigation. With that came more promotions for my undead. The mindless into Sergeants and the Sergeants into Uncs. But my shadows remained as they were. And would remain so until they leeched enough life on their own to grow. The most I could do was give them a better weapon than their tenebrous swords and daggers.


    Or give them stronger opponents to fight.


    That aside, the thought was enough to push me into designing yet another weapon and prioritizing it above the dozens of weapons, instruments, and tools I was already so eager to make. Some of them I made within only a few days. An improved, but still non-magical club for Zaraxus and ten 1,000-count jars of Pachinko balls. Plus an arrangement of scalpels, drill bits, hex keys, ratchets, and other hand tools that had yet to exist in this world. Many others were initialized by the latter end of that week. Or the following one. Bongo drums, flutes, violas, violins, and saxophones were all meticulously designed and created. Then passed on to the 21st Bob I instilled and promoted. Pop, a Luthier, and maker of other musical instruments.


    Though I had no regrets about the action, it was something I didn¡¯t want to make a habit of. Starting projects and not finishing them. Though the reason was justifiable in my eyes, I decided to make Peter¡¯s war fans. While I truly wanted them to be enchanted, he needed something better than the flimsy paper and sticks he was using. Additionally, such a project served to take away from the monotony of our classes. However, that wasn''t to say I shammed out on my training. On the contrary, I delved into experimenting in Doyle and Zeff¡¯s class with just as much intent as I poured into Olga¡¯s.


    Eventually, the days began to stream into a constant blur that flung the weeks by, almost causing the war fans that held my focus to grow like bamboo before my eyes. The frames were made of high-carbon steel with bronze inlays and a thick web of carbon nanotube fiber. The ribs were steel as well. Formerly rods that had been widened into the relatively thick needles that protruded along the ridge to form a webbed spine. It took me until the final week of the second quarter to call the first phase of production complete. Roughly four weeks after I began. Yet, I still had to etch the metals, dye and engrave the fabric, sharpen the blades, and craft a sheathe or holster. A lot of work that I completed in less than a day thanks to time dilation.


    Though it went without saying, my undead spent all hours of those weeks toiling. Perfecting their crafts and working to my ends. Some of them had started to put their lessons to efficient use. Notably, Rob, who ventured off into the wilds to grow me a burnbud and tobacco patch. Others had evolved to take on abstract tasks and sometimes collaborate on projects of their own. As in the case of Robbi demanding to meet with Robert, Beauregard, Robertus, and Roberts to formally decide on a common theme for the Legion¡¯s uniforms, vessels, armor, and architecture. With my Doppelganger present, that fell into a discussion about our name, motto, and other idiosyncrasies that culminated with a surprising verdict.


    ¡®Yeah.¡¯ I sent a mental ripple of satisfaction through my Under. ¡®We¡¯ll go with that.¡±

 150 - Day and Night

    Raising his hands, Doyle panned across a small crowd of students already trained on where he stood and shouted. ¡°Alright, everyone! Gather ¡®round!¡±


    With a sigh, I turned my sights away from the great trunk of the Bodhi Tree and onto Doyle, chuckling with a deadpan expression. "Alright.¡± He sighed. ¡°Last outing of the semester. No games or anything planned. That comes next week.¡± He knowingly laughed upon seeing a few intrigued gazes pivot in his direction before he invited us through the portal with a wave.


    The Cove had seen quite the change since its inception. The polished stone floors in the waterfall opening and the main space inside had been covered with dozens of pelts, fur rugs, and knitted sheets that gave a homely contrast against the living walls and braziers hidden in the corners. Tapestries and books lined the walls, painted and written mostly by Scarlett in an attempt to document the many encounters our peers would boast about over their meals. No other structures had been carved or constructed, only decorated to such a degree that it grew to appear as a modest homestead that¡¯d been standing in place for years. However, that was only because something was missing.


    For whatever reason, I¡¯ve been returning my undead and all their creations to the Shade Palace before we arrived at the Cove. Initially, I used my reluctance to have my first generation of undead killed. Then I quickly realized the preposterousness of such a notion. After that, the cycle continued with the idea of my undead accidentally killing one of my classmates. Another paltry excuse. Eventually, I began to use Corvus¡¯ second demand as an excuse. To show the world that the Cole Clan- that the Nox still lived. Now that we were at the end of the semester, I had no excuse.


    It was time for action.


    ¡°Alright. Eat some food, drink your drinks, smoke your smokes. Just listen for a moment.¡± While the party settled in the common area, I stepped onto the wall with a few unnecessary grunts and waddled over to lie above the door. And as always, Zakira used her vampiric ability to skip along the wall behind me. ¡°The reason why Doyle is so excited is that there are guests here, at the Bodhi Tree,¡± I explained. Then took a moment to guffaw at Doyle¡¯s suddenly widening eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve been sensing them since early this morning- powerful mystics. They¡¯ve been coming in groups to gather higher in the trunk.


    ¡°Now.¡± I hurriedly raised my palms. ¡°I don¡¯t want to spoil the surprise. But it''s safe to assume these guests are here to scout us. Given that, it¡¯s safe to assume that some of them will be interested in what happens during this outing. So, let¡¯s give them a show. I promised you all a raid, after all.¡±


    Though I spoke, an ear-splitting cheer reverberated through my room just before the bodies within jumped with either unbridled joy or apprehension. My words were drowned out entirely, but it didn¡¯t matter, my intention got across all the same. And the important bit had yet the come.


    ¡°Here¡¯s the thing! Here¡¯s the thing!¡± I calmed them with a few pats in the air. ¡°You¡¯ll be fighting alongside a Devil. A Necromancer. So get equipped and meet me topside. I want to show you something.¡±


    I stood with a wave. Yet Zakira was already across the wall and outside. Snickering to myself, I moseyed out and around one of the terraced lookout posts to trail after Zakira, skipping up to the cliff with an excitable pep in my step.


    ***


    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°-think, Mr. Wolfgang?¡±


    Though my mind was elsewhere, I turned from the small exodus of students to face the source of the voice. Scarlett Bombyx. She was the social butterfly of the party. A butterfly that flew dangerously close to the flame that was Amun. The worst part was, he was charming enough to burn her without even trying. Whether that was a good or bad thing was something I didn¡¯t know. Just an observation. But I knew others wouldn¡¯t see it that way.


    In a way, it was strange. My students were just as eager to see this as I was. Yet I was anxious about what was to come after.


    ¡°Zombies, duh!¡± Rebecca pulled her out the door with a giggle, where her voice began to fade into a low whisper. ¡°Or probably something crazier, knowing him.¡±


    Rebecca Plassein, Scarlett¡¯s closest friend, was capable and strong. But she didn¡¯t apply herself and had a problem with authority. Her lack of drive seemed to fade over the last six months, but it had yet to disappear. That said, she was right. Everything Amun did was¡­ revolutionary to say the least. His Sorcery and affinities were broken. His elemental proficiency was off the charts and his fighting abilities were nothing to laugh at either. His ability to teach and lead rivaled the Bodhi Tree¡¯s staff. And his growth potential seemed as if it were uncapped.


    As he was now, he was powerful enough to fight a kingdom- possibly an empire.


    Gods knew what he¡¯d be capable of post-evolution.


    That said, like many of those in his tier, he was arrogant, disrespectful, and utterly uncaring of authority. He wore his selfishness like a badge. Yet, he was somehow selfless all the same. He shared his techniques with his peers, but not the school on accounts that it¡¯d been unfair to the other parties. He openly recruited others into his guild in the midst of their studies. But he left the decision up to them and said little about it since. I knew I would have to struggle and risk everything if I was to beat him in a battle- unless he was without his magic. I knew he was much smarter than me and possibly smarter than any instructor here. I knew he was a selfish and sometimes dishonorable person with grayed morals. This event would showcase those qualities to the realms. Some would see them as flaws. Others, as strengths. Titus would hate him, and probably Corym too. Zook already loved him and thus so too would Zoop. Abbot Eiriol would see him as any other of their kind.


    The Optimus Regni would see him as a lost cause. Unable to be recruited. Too powerful to be restrained. So they¡¯ll resort to judgment. They¡¯ll watch for an attempt to negotiate an alliance or wait until they have an excuse to declare war.


    Either way, they¡¯ll watch. They¡¯ll wait. Through it all, I¡¯d be here. Giving the seeds of the future the strength they needed to survive such an unjust onslaught.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°What is it!? What is it!? What is it!?¡±


    I heard her and thus saw her jumping in my mind''s eye before I emerged on the plateau and hopped over to the wide chunk of flattened stone hovering above the lake. Zakira was as playfully cheerful as a toddler. A clear sign of trauma for someone her age. But Amun didn¡¯t seem to care. Nor did he care for her evident need to leech off of his magic. Or anything outside his own interest for that matter. Ironically, she behaved just like him from the start. Zakira cared only for herself. Then, she cared only about herself and Amun. Everything else to her was a game that needed toying with. Everything from fighting to formal conversation was made into an awkward joke. And Amun thought it was hilarious.


    In that way, they were like twins. Similar and yet strikingly different all the same.


    ¡°I want to show you all how my guild will fight.¡± He grinned in that charmingly unsettling way of his. ¡°There will be three forces within my Legions.¡±


    Grinning wider, he sent a wave of darkness over his peers that coalesced into pristine copies of the fifteen members of Copper Party. Doppelganger¡¯s, he aptly called them. As their only discerning feature was their arrangement in a neat formation at the edge of the cliff''s ledge, their sides facing us as they looked out at the eastern horizon. Or, waited for something.


    ¡°In war, our Doppelgangers will act as runners,¡± Amun explained. ¡°Gofers. In short, they¡¯ll use their ability to talk, move through, or store things in darkness to work logistics and communication. And as the name suggests, they are the bridge between the other sides.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Something crazi-ER!¡±


    Rebecca¡¯s mutter turned into one of many yelps that spurred to life and rose in pitch as the strange force Amun called gravity tilted the Mortal Plane itself. Slowly, as if for dramatic effect, the formation of clones loomed below us. Then shifted. Shuddered, then keeled over before coming to a grinding halt at our zenith. Bringing us to crane our necks and gaze upon the mind-breaking sight above. It was as if a mirror had been placed atop the cliff. The Doyle Wolfgang found below stared right into my eyes with the same sense of shock I felt.


    ¡°All others have a choice!¡± Amun¡¯s thunderous voice snapped the collective heads to him at once. From his grin, it was easy to assume he enjoyed the attention- which may have been true. But it was truer to say he found it amusing. Hilarious even. Though for some, that seemed to only add to his charm. ¡°If you so wish. You can fight alongside the living legionaries, where you can spread your name across the realms like the idols of old. Helping people, doing good, heroic things.


    ¡°Or!¡± His frame blinked as he shouted. Moved from the vertical ¡®lounging¡¯ position he was in to spread eagle in a flicker of motion undetectable to the eyes. The now-familiar cloud of midnight-blue darkness swelled before him after a second''s delay- a fusion of his shadow and spatial magic that enabled him to teleport at will. A technique he and the rest of his party affectionately referred to as Bamfing.


    Damn kids.


    In this case, his teleportation sent a shockwave of maddening darkness that I¡¯ve only rarely felt on occasion. Though not to this level. It felt as if a deathly explosion had been triggered. With Amun at the epicenter. A searing flash of blue-green light preceded a frozen tidal wave of concussive force. Brain-rattling shivers ran up and down my body, shocking my nerves into motion before they were frozen still by a shrill scream that made a banshee seem like an opera singer. And just as fast as it came, it disappeared.


    ¡°Guess I should¡¯ve warned you first.¡± Amun¡¯s loud snicker trailed through the endless silence, ending in a pitiless sigh. ¡°Eh, you¡¯ll get used to it. Anyway.¡±


    I regained my composure with a horrendous gasp and immediately took another. With a third, my senses started to return. First, my heart, banging against my chest like a prisoner shut away with a monster. Then a cold shiver and a ragged breath seemed to resonate with one another. When the feeling in my hands returned, I realized they were burning with tension and sheathed my weapon at once to look around.


    The other students weren¡¯t so lucky. Some had an early reunion with their breakfast. Others collapsed onto their knees or worse, passed out. But a few, Urshure and Zakira, were staring with sheer admiration. But not at Amun. They were staring at the ground above us. To the same locale of our Doppelgangers¡¯ focus. And then back up to Amun as his voice boomed once more.


    ¡°If you so wish! You can fight alongside the undying legionaries to spread unseen terror. Not so much being evil, but not being good either. Breaking laws, stealing, killing; for those who wish to worry not about the morality of their actions and have me be their moral compass.¡±


    Like a wave, the gathering of eyes snapped to the ground just as mine arrived on sight. And another jerk in my nerves forced a gasp to join in on the choir. Standing before a small guild¡¯s worth of lesser skeletons and zombies was an unalive draugr in the preserved flesh. Which was terrifying on its own, but it was a draugr created by the purest form of necromancy in existence. Sourced straight from the Underworld. Yet it stood with no regard to us at all. Instead, it and the formation of skeletons and zombies behind him craned their lifeless eyes to Amun and raised their arms in unison to drag the edges of their right hands down their faces. Almost as if they were praying.


    ¡°What the fuck is that!?!¡±


    Only a few followed Rhody¡¯s extended finger, myself included. Though it was something I¡¯d seen many times before. Shadow Undead. Undead with bodies composed of shadowstuff- an unremarkable name for a more than remarkable ¡®substance¡¯ made in the Plane of Shadow. As far as I understood, which wasn¡¯t very far at all, it was dark energy or radiation that could turn into anything- everything they had in life. Skin, blood, organs, teeth, eyes, spiritual bodies. Mana Wells. Affinity Cores.


    They were both solid and not. If stabbed, they bled. They¡¯d react as if they¡¯d felt pain and they¡¯d grow weaker as their injuries compounded. They could run out of mana and experience mana fatigue. And, of course, they retained their memories and emotions. But they were made of darkness. They could heal just by stepping into a shadow or transferring themselves freely between them. They could become invisible in darkness, or conceal themselves in the shadow of another. And on top of it all, they were undead. Should they die, it would only cost the caster, Amun, a little bit of mana. Or rather, a tiny bit of arcana. Though, from what I could tell, that seemed to be the only difference between his undead and the Necro King¡¯s. A blue-green glow rather than the range of vibrant grays of the latter. Regardless, it was an undying shadow all the same. One of the most terrifying creatures in existence.


    Given enough time- given ten or fifty or a hundred years, even the weakest corpse could grow to rival a Magus with sheer physical strength alone. Amun¡¯s weren¡¯t anywhere close to that level just yet. But it was only a matter of time until they were capable of warring against a calamity and coming out on top.


    ¡°In other words.¡± Amun¡¯s voice cut into my mind. And everyone else¡¯s as well, it seemed. He had his hands cocked to either side. One pointed to the floating rock on which he stood, his fingers wiggling as he said. ¡°You can either be good.¡± His hand waved towards the undead scattered above- or below. ¡°Or you can be bad. Day or Night.¡±


    Much to my surprise, half the class leaped from the platform to stand among the undead. Rhody, Urshure, Kaolinite, Slate, Samson, Elsgril, and of course, Zakira. The rest stayed in the light. Except, of course, Amun, who remained in midair between the two groups, smiling with almost sadistic pleasure as he cradled an invisible something in the palms of his hands. Yet his voice was unnervingly calm. Unerringly clear as his orders were whispered across the crowd. ¡°Prepare yourselves, it¡¯s about to get dark.¡±


    He didn¡¯t even need to say it. I felt it. We all did. The arcana in his Mana Well made his spells unignorable. It was like feeling the rising sun on my back. Hot, until the sound of Amun''s voice turned it cold. ¡°The battle begins with the coming dawn.¡±

 151 - Follow the Leader

    Issac Galliard.


    ***


    ¡°Ugh.¡± I sighed out a raspberry. ¡°It¡¯s so fucking boring.¡±


    ¡°Boredom is a good thing, Issac.¡± I heard Jaimess say from behind his camp. More so a house blended into the tree and brush.


    ¡°No, Issac¡¯s right! It¡¯s fuckin¡¯ borin''!¡± Bazz grunted from the other side of the outcropping behind my camp.


    Grunting contemptuously, the stony-fleshed being that was Corundum strode before my door, if only to give her opinion before she walked away. ¡°If you are bored then go hunting or find some other challenge.¡±


    ¡°Not everyone enjoys passing the time by getting beaten to a pulp.¡± I sneered.


    ¡°And how do you pass the time, Issac?¡± Vlorlyn asked from far off to my left, yet her voice trickled through the forest like water down a mountain.


    ¡°Brothels.¡± Saying nothing more, I stood and walked away with a sigh. Each step made Bazzric¡¯s overbearing laughter more distant until there was just¡­ nothing. A cold, deathly silence.


    My heart pounded in my chest and I wheeled around. Saw nothing. Felt nothing besides a pervasive cold that carried disembodied whispers through my ears. Then, I felt something kick at my back. Or rather, I felt something grab hold of me and rip me through the darkness for an endless instant.


    And then it stopped.


    ¡°Bazz!? Lyn!? Jaimess!?¡± I called. But heard nothing but the whispers until a beacon appeared above. A warmth that leveled a fear I hadn¡¯t known accumulated in me.


    I turned to it and first thought it was the sun. Vibrant and bright and yellow and warm. But in the wrong place. It was high above me, almost directly overhead. And bright. So bright that I had to shield the light with my hand and tune my eyes with mana to see it for what it was. A man. Illuminating the space like a lone torch dispersing the fog on an eerie road.


    When the light spread, the night fell and time seemed to slow. In an instant, it crept to a near-standstill. Immobilizing my body while my senses remained on high alert. I saw rolling hills of green spread below me and a wide platform of stone looming above me. And all around me were bodies. Bodies of my teammates who brought a sense of relief. Bodies of lesser-known individuals who brought a sense of foreboding. Bodies that reminded me of the nightmarish tales I heard as a child. And then it hit me. The realization was nearly formed into a thought before it became a reality. And then came the words. Echoing in my mind.


    ¡®I¡¯m falling.¡¯


    The rolling hills that were the treetops rushed up to meet me at once. With it, came a tide of panic that swept in from the other side. A swelling of mana among the likes of which I¡¯d never felt before. Or perhaps I had.


    Almost without realizing it, I felt my mana flow into a wedge shape that remained in place before me as I fell into the canopy. Branches slapped and panged against my spell without relenting. And then the finisher came. The ground. Which smacked into me like a boulder released from a summit. My heart panged and my chest heaved fire through my blood as I pried my eyes with an almost primal force, revealing a realm canted onto its side to ensure a bit of panic.


    I scrambled. Clawed myself to my feet and saw three squared off to face me. Two with massive fireballs held overhead, the slave and a shadow with glowing blue-green hair, straddled the dragonborne as he leaned back and roared out a cone of oppressive fire.


    I sent out a roar of my own just as the slave and shadow pushed their fireballs forward, one red and one an intense blue that churned with the other attacks to make a wall of fire.


    ¡®Shit. It¡¯s true!¡¯ The words raced through my mind like my attack through the wall of flames. A pillar of energy that came and went without much notice from anyone.


    I managed to switch magics, but it was too late. My flesh and hair were singed and burned before the protective shield enveloped me. But I retreated at once, using small beams to maneuver through the trees as I assessed the situation.


    Utter chaos.


    Members of all parties were mingled with the dead, both shadow and traditional alike. Everywhere except above, where a bright sun shone beneath a toiling cloud of black and blue lightning.


    ¡°Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Fuck!¡± I muttered. The light bloomed and I suddenly felt the cold ground against my body, accompanied by dull pain. My spell faltered as I scrambled back as quickly as I could. Then I froze when I saw an impossibly black boot arcing towards my face.


    Light bloomed again and my world spun. Bringing about a pervasive cold that crept through my feet and hands like venom injected into a bloodstream. I felt myself shiver, and through that, noticed the cold darkness sweeping over my eyes.


    And then¡­ silence.


    ---


    ¡°Hey, you! You''re finally awake.¡±


    My eyes fluttered open with haste, expecting a visage I¡¯d hardly seen in months. Only to see a thin-framed boy with unkempt hair looking down on me with half-lidded eyes. And beyond him, was nothing but darkness.


    ¡°What are looking at, Slave?¡±


    ¡°Watch your mouth.¡± Winston spat from outside my periphery to my left.


    ¡°What?¡± I turned. Tried to, only to find myself bound to a chair. ¡°You of all people are sticking up for this trash?¡±


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ¡°Shut up, Issac!¡± Winston spat again.


    ¡°Why should I?¡± I spat back. ¡°Status means nothing here. The Headmaster said so himself.¡±


    Winston pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. ¡°If that¡¯s the case, why do you insist on calling him that?¡±


    ¡°Because it was you who told me to!¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He calmly nodded. ¡°And now I¡¯m telling you to stop.¡±


    ¡°Or what? Your slave will get his feelings-¡±


    ¡°I said shut up!¡± Winston flung himself at me with a fist coated in the all-too-familiar energy and drove it into my cheek. But I was prepared with my own magic and felt the dull impact of his paltry attack slide off my jaw. Though it toppled me onto my side. ¡°Gods dammit!¡± Winston thrashed his hands. ¡°The fact that I was the one to teach you these things makes this all the more depressing! But listen closely! Because I¡¯m teaching you now!¡±


    Keeling down, he gently pulled me upright and grasped my shoulders with both hands. Then leaned close enough to almost make our noses touch. ¡°People. Are. Not. Property!¡± He forced the words through his teeth and held his gaze for a long moment. Then pulled away to turn a slender finger in the slave¡¯s direction. ¡°I am a royal and you are my knight. Yet that man is far stronger, intelligent, and kinder than we can ever hope to be. That man has shown the most growth in our class since we¡¯ve been here. That man was the first in our party to master Amun¡¯s teachings and is one of the top performers among us. That man.¡± Winston almost sobbed. ¡°Has not an ounce of hate or anger in his heart, despite how terrible we¡¯ve treated him. All over something he had no control over. And the fact that he¡¯s all that and was branded a slave makes it all the worse.¡±


    There was a long silence in which I just sneered at him until Winston threw me away with a soft shove. A few more seconds passed. Then the soft creak of a door signaled someone entering behind me.


    Winston stepped towards it at once. ¡°Good, you¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± I heard the nod in the amiable voice just behind me, but also all around me. ¡°What¡¯s the issue?¡±


    ¡°I have an announcement I wish to make to the three of you,¡± Winston said as he backpedaled into my line of sight. ¡°One day, after we graduate. I will inherit the Epethian crown and dedicate my life to righting my family¡¯s past transgressions. You, Issac; as well as the others, need to change your way of thinking, lest you find yourselves as my enemies in that endeavor.¡±


    ¡°Is-¡±


    ¡°It is a fact!¡± Winston stomped forward. ¡°Like saying the grass is green. It¡¯s a fact. Whether you consider that a threat or an order is up to you. But I won¡¯t wait for you to decide.¡±


    ¡°I mean, that¡¯s admirable. But.¡± The devil himself came into view, shrugging. He looked the same as I¡¯d seen him before. What I could see of him did at least. His body seemed to flicker in and out of existence as he waltzed past the torches and braziers lighting my cell. But he looked the same. "As they say.¡± His voice entered my ears from all angles, despite him standing just before me. ¡°Actions speak louder than words.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I sneered as his gaze settled on me. ¡°You¡¯re here to interrogate me?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± He bobbed in place with laughter, a sickening grin spread across his face. ¡°No. No. No, Issac Galliard." He licked his lips. "Interrogation is a barbaric practice. Especially when you¡¯ll tell me everything I want to know of your own volition.¡± Still grinning, his gaze lowered to a point below my seat. Then the ripples in his voice swelled deeper. ¡°Won¡¯t you?¡±


    I felt¡­ something touch my foot and reflexively flinched. Kicked out and leaned forward to see a hand reaching from under my seat. Pale, stubby, and scarred much like mine. Then came an arm, covered in a film of thin hairs that were struggling to grow. Then came a head with short-cropped brown hair. Square, chiseled towards the front like a fat wedge. With broad shoulders and a tanky body that stood 185 cm tall.


    In other words, it was me. Just as I was as I sat in the chair. Armorless and bruised, but standing and smiling at Amun as if I¡¯d known him for as long as I did Winston. ¡°I will.¡± He- I nodded.


    ¡®No¡­¡¯ I felt my head shaking.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Amun flicked his eyes towards me. And his grin widened. ¡°What affinities do you have?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°I was born with Shield Magic, and was given Beam Magic at the awakening ceremony.¡±


    While my face dropped, Amun¡¯s brightened like the sun. ¡°Fascinating.¡±


    He fell silent after. His eyes darted to and from either side of the room while thought about something for a few uncomfortable moments. Then he turned back to the fake me. ¡°What¡¯s your honest opinion of Peter?¡±


    ¡°No!¡± I muttered again. ¡°Stop!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t really have one.¡± My false self shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t know him. So.¡± He shrugged again, somehow more meek this time.


    ¡°Then why in the Hells won''t you listen?¡± Winston stepped forward with an outward thrust of his hands. Though the quivers in his voice spoke louder than his words.


    ¡°Quiet¡± I sobbed.


    With a solemn slowness, the traitor turned his eyes toward his master. ¡°Because you do, Winston. And.¡± His words trailed off with his eyes, turning towards the object of their- of our conversation. ¡°I wanted to know how strong he is. I knew he wouldn¡¯t try or would be scared if I asked to spar. Making him angry was the easiest way.¡±


    ¡°I think I understand you know.¡± Amun chuckled after an eerily short silence. ¡°You¡¯re a follower, not a leader.¡±


    His and my posture deflated at once. ¡°I am.¡± He- I said.


    ¡°There''s nothing wrong with that.¡± Amun gently shook his head. ¡°The realms would be in utter chaos if everyone in them were trying to lead it towards the future.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± I and my¡­ clone huffed simultaneously. But he was the one to voice my thoughts. ¡°I guess you¡¯re right.¡±


    ¡°And Winston is your moral compass.¡± Amun continued, causing another wave of panic in me that my clone brushed off at once. ¡°His compass points to something different now. And you¡¯re struggling to realign yours to fit his.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I- we slowly nodded. ¡°That¡¯s exactly it,¡± my clone said.


    ¡°You¡¯re a good knight, Issac.¡± Winston stepped toward me. ¡°The others are good people too. But we¡¯ve done bad things we must make amends for. Our home practices things we know are objectively wrong. We are the future.¡± He grabbed my shoulders again. And then I saw it for the first time. Tears. Strewn about his face, welled up in his eyes. Tears. Not tears of despair or sadness. But tears of conviction. Tears of resolve.


    He was serious about this.


    ¡°That¡¯s what they taught us, right?¡± He sobbed, shaking me gently. ¡°We are the future of Epethia. We are going to bring the change we wish to see in our home.¡±


    There was a moment of silence. I knew what it was about, and so did my clone. But it seemed neither of us could find a way to form it into words that held any semblance of tact.


    Fuck it.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t believe you. Nor is it that I don¡¯t want to. But.¡± I, my true self, took in a deep breath and steeled my eyes towards Winston. ¡°You know how it is back home. The Guard. The Magistrate. Your Mother. Nothing we say can convince them. And anything we do will be high treason. What can the seven of us accomplish against that¡±


    ¡°There won¡¯t just be the seven of us.¡±


    With a final shake, Winston released his grip from my shoulders and moved to stand before Amun with his hand outstretched. A hopeful smile spread across his face. ¡°I¡¯m willing to make a deal,¡± he said. And my eyes widened. ¡°Not that kind of deal. But, an agreement. If you help me bring prosperity to my people. If you help me make Epethia like Odissi, where everyone is prosperous and free, I will join your guild. And if any of my followers are still following me. So will they.¡±


    ¡°Well, the final choice has to be theirs, but you got a deal!¡± Amun slapped his hand in the most informal way imaginable. Then he turned to me with a childishly eager smile. ¡°The guild will be formed before we return to Maru. Once we do, we''ll train up the locals before we breach the barrier and stabilize Ulai.¡±


    "Wha-"


    ¡°After that, we¡¯ll make a sliver of paradise so our people can live freely. And by ¡®our people¡¯ I mean Maruleans as a whole. Here¡¯s how we¡¯ll do it.¡±

 152 - Scourge

    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen the entirety of the staff gathered in one place before.¡±


    ¡°Shh!¡±


    Hiding my sneer, I turned away from Zeff to study the slew of faces I hadn¡¯t seen in a range of weeks to years. Most of them were the Class Instructors for the 2nd year students. Zoop, who ran the Artificer course. Coleman Carr, the lone teacher of the Wizard Course. Eiriol, the Abbot of the Bodhi Tree Monastery. And of course, Titus. All were here for one reason. To discuss the matchups for the mid-year event.


    Or so they assumed.


    Only the three of us, Olga, Zeff, and I knew the real purpose of this meeting. Besides, of course, the Headmaster. He was a man- if he could even be called that, of unknown origin and age with a bottomless reserve of knowledge and wisdom. The orc and fiend in him gave him thick, almost leathery skin that had grown into a sort of bark over time due in no small part to his Class. With his stature and potent mix of innate abilities, many of us considered him the personification of the Bodhi Tree he administered. Unwavering even in the worst of conditions. Unlike now. Now, he was flustered and worried and everyone knew it. But below that unease was a shining hope that showed how righteously scheming Headmaster Zorrenor Knagh was to those of us who knew his ploy.


    ¡°To make matters short, we are on the precipice of an emergency,¡± he said. And wasted no time for the ensuing sidebar conversations to arise. ¡°Because of that, the opponent listings and the topic of this meeting have already been sent through to the Guilds in attendance. That topic is the Scourge of the Mountain.¡±


    ¡°What about her?¡± Titus¡¯ massive form leaned across his table.


    ¡°The old rumors were true,¡± the Headmaster calmly said. ¡°The Scourge had a clutch. One of them has been spotted lingering around the base of the northern mountain border. Its evident reluctance to return to the summit has led me to believe the Scourge''s paternal instincts are being overruled by her territorial nature. The others have fled to form their lairs. To where I know not. But this one has remained in the area.¡± Headmaster Knagh almost growled. ¡°It is only a matter of time before it encroaches the Grove¡¯s safeguards.¡±


    ¡°And then it will have no place to go. Except over the mountain.¡± Titus finished with a weary sigh. A hilarious sigh by my measure and mine alone.


    ¡°The foot of Polaris¡¯ expanse is not outside of our jurisdiction.¡± Headmaster Knagh continued. ¡°The Bairn is just on the precipice of being young, so the time to act is now. With every year it will grow stronger until the Scourge decides to take action and rid it of its territory for good. However, this event and a certain student of ours provided us with an opportunity. Here is my proposal.¡±


    ---


    ¡°This is unbelievable.¡± Olga cackled weakly.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I did the same.


    ¡°I mean¡­ it could work?¡± Olga shrugged, though her words sounded more like a statement than a question. ¡°I can¡¯t see Polaris agreeing though. I mean, did you see Titus¡¯ face?¡± She chuckled drearily, removing the excitement in her eyes in mere moments. ¡°Imagine how the Genny¡¯s will react!¡±


    ¡°Not as if they have any reason to.¡± I scoffed into my mug. ¡°They¡¯re so far away, their cities won¡¯t hear of it for weeks.¡±


    ¡°It can only come so close to the Bodhi Tree.¡± Zeff proudly shrugged, as if he knew everyone would agree from the beginning. ¡°It¡¯s only a matter of time before it turns tail to Polaris. And we know how much they don¡¯t want to deal with that.¡±


    ¡°Still.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I can¡¯t help but feel that we¡¯re doing him a favor. I mean, he asked me about them, you know? And¡­ his Great Grandfather? You think he knows?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I snorted. ¡°He knows. And it is a favor. He told me face-to-face that he has yet to be challenged here. A troll or even a minotaur won¡¯t do that. But the Scourge¡¯s Bairn will.¡±


    ¡°And Polaris will see him as a monster if it doesn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°M-¡±


    ¡°Doyle, old friend!¡±


    ¡®Ugh.¡¯ I turned with an over-bearing smile. Halfway to blur my vision as much as I could and half to appease to unruly brute waddling towards me. ¡°Titus! I¡¯m surprised to find you away from Stellaris¡¯ annex. What brings you here?¡±


    ¡°Just passing through.¡± He palmed my entire shoulder with a meaty hand to give my body a firm shake while he bared a dictator¡¯s smile through his beard. ¡°I saw you and decided to give credit where it was due. From what I¡¯ve seen, everyone in Class 999 is exceptional. Excellent work, you three.¡±


    ¡°Thank. You.¡±


    It took everything I had to force the words through my teeth and Titus enjoyed every bit of it. He was a man of control, like everyone in high Polaris society. He treated almost everyone as a subordinate. Like pawns in his not-so-little army. The only thing worse than that was the fact that he could get away with it. The Storm King was powerful. Physically and otherwise. He had the connections and the backing of the largest empire in existence. He was an example of the shining stars they claimed themselves to be. He- Polaris was untouchable; had been for nearly a thousand years. But even stars began to flicker and dim with enough passed time.


    ¡°Tell me,¡± he said before Zeff could inadvertently sacrifice himself. ¡°Are there any young Knights I can look forward to seeing next year?¡±


    ¡°Several.¡± I nodded. ¡°Toril O¡¯Connell, Lucia Pike, Issac Galliard. Just to name a few.¡±


    ¡°And the rest?¡± His beard widened into an amiable grin.


    And so too did mine. ¡°I¡¯ll have them sent your way.¡±


    ¡°Well said.¡± He grunted, then stepped away with a nod. Waving over his shoulder. ¡°I cannot wait to see how they fare in these trials.¡±


    ¡°Who the fuck does he think he is?¡± Olga leaned between us after he left.


    ¡°The Storm King,¡± I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster. ¡°Said to cover the battlefield in an endless storm and be all places at once.¡±


    ¡°Hah!¡± Olga laughed. ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound that impressive, considering a bunch of Pages can do that too. Besides, the Storm Thief sounds better in my opinion.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Anyway.¡± Olga waved her hand around, ignoring us both. ¡°The Headmaster really went all out this year, huh?¡±


    ¡°If you don¡¯t wanna answer just say it,¡± I muttered. But Zeff didn¡¯t seem to care. He only joined in on Olga¡¯s period of silent observation. Prompting me to join in as well.


    Though it was ridiculous to say, the space was contained in the interior of a massive acorn suspended in the Bodhi Tree¡¯s canopy. What had been coined the Round Cap sat at the top where the corn connected to the tree. Within that cap sat what had to be hundreds of tables, all with the scry glass provided by the greatest Artificers of Polaris. The annexes for the Optimus Regni were placed in the usual Bodhi Tree fashion. Built into the walls from floor to ceiling and accessible by staircases that connected Cap overhead with the bars, lounges, and parks in which we sat. The space Titus had entered and our destination occupied the only remaining space, the center. Where a bulbous pillar held the meeting room. Nothing more than a dais surrounded by chairs and tables fastened into the walls.


    The place where we¡¯d be surrounded, judged, and queried by those who were deemed the most influential and powerful in the explored realms of Nonus.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°I¡¯ve always hated this part.¡±


    ¡°Well, good for you, Doyle.¡± Olga smiled.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost over. We¡¯re about to be called in.¡±


    ¡°I figured. Titus hates politics. On the bright side.¡± I tapped the papers in my hand. ¡°Never thought we¡¯d be able to pick from the top of the list. Though we didn¡¯t really get to pick.¡± I muttered, turning to Zeff. ¡°Have you scoped out the seats?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Zeff smiled in that deviously charming way that halflings did. ¡°Now if you¡¯ve finished stalling, shall we go inside?¡±


    One by one, we sidled into the room. Avoiding the many gazes that turned our way as best we could. We had almost made it, until¡­ ¡°Now, Madam Godzuik, and Sirs Wolfgang and Zurich will explain our most pressing matter regarding this event.¡±


    ¡®Dammit.¡¯


    Thankfully, the visitor¡¯s focus was away from us as we turned. Instead, they were centered on the objects that took our focus on the way to the dais. Four scry screens showed the many encounters the four unmeasured students of Class 999 have had over the last six months.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do the talking,¡± Zeff whispered.


    ¡®Gods bless you.¡¯


    ¡°Good morning, Guild Masters and representatives of the Optimus Regni. I am Zeff Yurich, Battle Mage, and Magic Theory Instructor at the Bodhi Tre.¡± He bowed with masterful tact. ¡°If I may skip the pleasantries, I will share our recommendations for the creatures not found on our list before I move to the most pressing issue.¡±


    Pausing, he allowed the Regni time to spread the first individual in question to every screen in the room. It was the second-shortest montage of them all. The screen flickered from a miniature sun to a field of fire and back to a sun within seconds, and at the center of each image was a red-skinned humanoid with crimson hair.


    ¡°Ash is an extra-planar being. A Fire Djinni!¡± Zeff declared, if only for dramatic flair. ¡°Naturally, that would imply we pair him with another creature from the Plane of Fire. After much consideration, however, we would like to recommend a type of Construct to challenge him for this event. An Iron Golem.¡± Zeff gave another pause. This one to give them time to make a counter opinion that never came. So he gestured to the second screen. Technically the shortest, but perceived as nothing more than a pinpoint of light at the center of a hardly noticeable background that shifted every few seconds.


    ¡°For Lancelot Morningstar, I suggest a Unicorn. As they are one of the few creatures in existence found to be immune to his light. And for Zeke Silva-¡± He tapered off as he turned to the next screen. But I was snickering at Zeff¡¯s ploy and the Polaris Guilds bickering to themselves at the thought of their prodigal son fighting a unicorn that the Bodhi Tree no longer had. Not that Zeff was aware of that.


    ¡°-I suggest either a Pit or a Horned Devil.¡± His words cut the silence at once. Even my snickering had ground to an abrupt halt to stare at the screen and consider the odds of Silva beating something of that caliber. Though I was sure the Regni was silent for different reasons. After all, those entities weren¡¯t easy to come by. That aside, Zeke was strong. That much was made apparent by the screens. One of his blows could fell a tree. But the screens didn¡¯t show his pacifistic nature. His montage was longer than the other two, but not by much and comparatively less than the last screen.


    Their faces lit up as the images spread to every table, every chair, to every wall and window in the room. And almost as one, they leaned in closer to see the young half-elf standing before the Epethian Prince. Like a sadistic politician who had served for years, Zeff waited and watched the looks on their faces change from interest to horror and he lathered himself in it. He smiled only through the gentle taps of his finger counting the seconds by. A rhythmic hum that may as well have been a song in itself. A tune known only to the three of us. Which made it that much harder to remain stoic once the mutters resumed.


    Those who knew their history were already aware of who Amun was, or they soon would if they didn¡¯t recognize him. Some of them even had personal histories with the House of Cole and thus would hardly be surprised at seeing shadows or even death at play.


    Horrified, maybe. But not surprised.


    No, their surprise came from the strange force Amun called gravity. With eyes as wide as ours were on that day, they watched Winston tumble across the ground as if he were skipping down a cliff; and when he had captured their surprise, Amun brought out the void.


    They watched Amun break through Winston¡¯s barrier with but a swipe of his hand and take a sword strike without flinching. When the screen flickered, they watched Amun toy with his magic in the face of beast after beast vying to kill him before it flickered again to show Amun making a fool out of the prodigal son of light. They watched him spread chaos through battlefield after battlefield until the VIP games ended and it flickered again to show Amun standing before companies of undead just before he casually lied to his peers about killing a unicorn.


    Even now, it was the hardest secret to hold on to. A guardian of the forest was killed by a student and raised as an undying shadow. It was an event unable to be scried upon due to the unicorn¡¯s presence and its absence created a fittingly challenging environment for Class 999 during their outings from that point on. That would remain unseen by the Regni, however. Instead, they watched the companies of undead transition into Amun falling into a pool to vaporize the waters from around a Triton and plague the arena with a thunderstorm mixed with magical darkness.


    Like the battle with the unicorn, even now, no one but Amun, Zohnos, and perhaps Headmaster Knagh knew what truly happened in that cold pit of darkness. And the speculation seemed to drive the Regni mad.


    When it flickered a final time, however, it showed a sight many of them had already seen. The nightmare from a few days past. It was strange, watching it from my perspective alongside many others. From the innocuous eyes the Headmaster sprouted in the trees, on leaves, and planted within our very clothes, we watched a cloud of darkness and spatial magic spread out over an area of over 8,000 square kilometers. From the many perspectives outside the cloud of Dark Space, we saw it linger, shift, and retract at an ever-increasing speed until all that remained was a sphere no larger than a kilometer in diameter.


    Instead of that endless moment I experienced, Lance¡¯s light appeared after only a few seconds. Then, the darkness faded to reveal the three parties and a few companies'' worth of undead scattered into the wind.


    And then, chaos.


    And then, darkness.


    And then, an image of a captured prisoner and an annotation detailing Amun¡¯s reward of 1,500 points and an additional 1,000 to the rest of his team.


    Although I wanted to earlier, I pulled my eyes away from the reel to gauge the impressions of the Regni at that moment. Naturally, the Genny¡¯s were mixed between the horrified Gray Lagoon, Ayolia Nursery, and Graystone. Others, like The Misty Arbor Keepers, the Cloud Shapers, and, curiously, the Purists were hopefully impressed. But the Seven Stars of Polaris¡­


    ¡°Our suggestion is this!¡± Zeff sang through their outrage. ¡°We task Amun to deal with the Scourge of the Mountain¡¯s Bairn.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous!¡± An unknown man slammed his fist down. It took me to turn and take a moment to realize it was the Guildmaster of Rouge Hydra. Though I was still unaware of his name, his crimson hair slicked back to rest over his shoulders like the heads of his namesake made his face unforgettable. ¡°Surely that would enrage the Scourge!¡± He slammed the table again, flinging sizzling phlegm every which way as he did so. ¡°And then what?¡±


    ¡°The Bairn is now old enough to have been kicked from the lair.¡± The Headmaster said with a graceful step onto the dais. A well-placed save, but it made me happy I wasn¡¯t claustrophobic all the same. ¡°It is the same age as he.¡± He gestured to Amun, sending black lighting above the arena. ¡°Old enough to be in search of its own domain but not yet strong enough to dominate or escape from someone of his caliber. In truth.¡± He turned back to the screens with a sigh and waited for the other three subjects of the conversation to join Amun onscreen. ¡°I would prefer to have them all fight it. Or one of us. But that would be an amendment to the rules. At any rate, it would be best to deal with it before it reaches our barriers and turns tail to cross the mountain.¡±


    ¡°Surely you jest!¡± Another one spoke up, this one from the independent research guild, Rex Magica. ¡°You cannot expect us to agree to a first-year student- an unevolved student, being tasked with this!¡±


    ¡®I¡¯m sure you just want to keep the resources for yourself.¡¯ I laughed to myself.


    ¡°From a venerable bloodline, mind you!¡± Hydra spat.


    ¡°As stated, it is on the precipice of youth.¡± A member of the Nein Archives chimed in. ¡°Surely Amun can defeat it.¡±


    ¡°The question to ask is: will he defeat it?¡±


    Naturally, all heads turned to the group that usually held their silence. The premier independent assassins guild of Nonus, The Cowl. In particular, their Guildmaster, Mr. Mask. Always seen in a suit seemingly made from green bay leaves paired with a faceless mask, half alive and half not, and dry enough to rattle in the wind as he said. ¡°What will happen if he does not?¡±


    ¡°Naturally, he will face a deduction in points,¡± Zeff assured him. ¡°And-¡±


    ¡°And he will not care.¡± Mr. Mask coldly said. ¡°I have met those with the name Cole before. I have dealt with drow before. Half or not, raised among humans or not, they do not care for our rules and titles. He will do what he wants to do. From what I can see.¡± He gestured to his screen. ¡°He only kills when necessary. When he is threatened, when he wants to test his might, or when he wants to grow his army. I am unsure if he will be willing to kill this¡­ Bairn-¡±


    ¡°I accept the proposal.¡±


    A line of gasps fell towards a particularly vibrant individual; the brightest being in the universe, some would say. Dende Morningstar. He sat in his seat with a posture of regal elegance that betrayed the strained muscles in his jaw. Yet, as he panned his eyes around his subguilds and back to us, his voice radiated utter serenity. ¡°Amun will have a chance to slay the Bairn. Should he fail, there are many here to take care of what remains.¡±


    ''Yeah, I¡¯m sure there will be.''


    ¡°However.¡± He turned his radiant eyes to me. ¡°A unicorn would be unwilling to fight my son. And there is none on this list regardless. What would you recommend instead, Sir Wolfgang?"


    ¡°I would recommend any other type of Celestial. Due to the few creatures resistant or immune to light, however, the only other alternative I can suggest would be that he wear a piece of Negstone, Sir.¡± I bowed.


    ¡°It will be considered.¡±


    ¡°Then this meeting is adjourned.¡± The Headmaster gently clapped his hands. ¡°Thank you for your time. We will see you all tonight.¡±

 153 - Optimus Regni

    Rua Nun.


    1st of Septara (7th month), 1491.


    ***


    ¡°Some weekend, huh Rua?¡±


    I saw her face before I turned. Round and flat like a dinner plate, yet chiseled like a strong warrior and toned a deep brown like fertile soil. When she wanted to be, Roheisa Deapou was gentle and nice. She was thoughtful and kind. Almost too kind. When she wanted to be.


    ¡°I feel it was only a matter of time,¡± I said. Then took a moment to blink through the images of the nightmare we were forced through. Beings of light and shadow that rose no matter how many times they were felled. ¡°But, I did not think it would be like that.¡±


    ¡°Eh, it wasn¡¯t too bad.¡±


    Almost as one, me and Roheisa turned to the vampire striding a few steps ahead.


    ¡°That¡¯s cause the zombies didn¡¯t fight you!¡± Teofila shouted from just behind us, leaving a sharp ringing to persist in my ear.


    While a round of banter ensued between them, I peered beyond Opal to study Zohnos at the front. He was the first to fight the Elven Devil¡¯s undead. Though few believed that claim, I did. His reaction to them made it too apparent. And the fact that he did not get his chance to redeem himself in battle was eating away at him.


    ¡°What do you think we¡¯re here for?¡± Roheisa threw her chin to the doors ahead.


    It was the same room we were gathered in six months ago. When we first arrived at the Bodhi Tree and were divided into parties. I was unsure of what to expect then, being teamed with a princess and a warrior from another realm, a being from beneath the sea, and a vampire from the Hells. But I have grown. I have learned to use my magic and empower my body. I have made some semblance of friends. But... I have made no progress on the most important front, and I was beginning to think I would not make any here.


    ¡°They are going to challenge us.¡±


    My answer caused Teo to leap up to us at once and shove her way between us. She was far stronger than she was beautiful. And she was stunningly gorgeous. But her concept of such things was something me and the rest of my team could not seem to grasp. Rich and poor; noble and commoner; city-folk and outlanders; scholars and warriors; even men and women; it was not that she was confused about these things, she had no concept of them at all. Looks did not even matter to her, nor did personality. In her eyes- in the eyes of all Amazonians, there was only strength. Power.


    As it was, Teofila Traversini felt herself average. Neither weak nor strong. Ugly nor beautiful. It was due to that- the Amazonian Culture and their strength, passed through their blood like the magic of sorcerers- that she obsessed over one individual in particular. And countless others did as well. For reasons that either eluded me or made no sense.


    ¡°We have already faced each other.¡± I later explained. ¡°I think they will have us face creatures now. Maybe sentient creatures. Maybe even people.¡±


    ¡°Like gladiators.¡± Roheisa sighed in a curious way. Almost as if she were¡­ disappointed. ¡°Well.¡± She sighed again. ¡°There¡¯s only one way to find out.¡±


    After catching up to Zohnos, we pushed through the door and found our seats in the vast auditorium. Or maybe it was simply large and only seemed vast due to the comparatively small size of our class. 55 humanoids in seats made for hundreds. Hubris in architectural form.


    Looking out at the rows and rows of empty seats brought flashes of the monastery through my mind. The image I saw before I left remained seared into my memory even now. A fleet of boys and girls all shaved bald to make a field of shining spheres that spread to the horizon. Black and white and tan and green, and red and blue too. A sea of heads with only themselves to call home. A herd with no fence to keep them safe; a shepherd who screamed false teachings to the heavens.


    ¡°Welcome, students!¡± The Headmaster¡¯s voice ripped the image from my mind. Replacing it with the inhumanly towering figure that ran the Bodhi Tree in its entirety. ¡°And congratulations on making it through your first semester of study.¡± He paused to wave during a round of applause given by our teachers and the dense crowd of people I had not noticed until now. They were spread apart backstage in stands made of the same twisted vines and branches that connected to the writhing ceiling. Coiling and spasming like a beheaded snake until its life passed with a final shake; and from that passing tremor came a rain of paper that descended onto our laps. Pamphlets with the words Optimus Regni printed across the front.


    ¡®Ah.¡¯


    ¡°Due to your reservations at the end of the year, the mid-year ceremony is where you students will put what you¡¯ve learned on display.¡± The Headmaster spread his arms in a declaration. ¡°For the next five days, ten students will venture into the wilds to fight a creature specifically chosen to challenge you. On the sixth day, there will only be five matches. The seventh will consist of team battles between the three parties, and the eighth will be a free-for-all.


    ¡°It goes without saying, but this event will be held in lieu of your studies. Tomorrow, we will begin with the first ten members of Apple Party. Starting with Roheisa Deapou, and on until the last member of Apple Party, Team Two, Phelaia. Refer to your mailboxes on the day before your matches for further instructions. Those of you who are unscheduled may treat the time as a day off and spectate your peers'' matches in your common rooms, the cafeteria, the gym, or the arena. But be on your best behavior.¡± He sickeningly smiled. ¡°For eyes will be on you at all times.¡±


    He allowed a long silence to befall the crowd. A moment for the inquires and curiosities boiling from the student¡¯s mind to spill off into the air and be absorbed into his ego. ¡°These pamphlets detail the top 50 guilds found across the explored realms of Nonus,¡± he said. ¡°Their members are here in attendance to spectate your battles. From their observations, they will make assessments and, if you impress them, will contact you during your second year for a work-study. You will spend the majority of the following year in their care. Working under them so that you can gain an understanding of the inner workings of a guild before you graduate.


    ¡°So.¡± He clasped his hands with finality. ¡°If you wish to be recruited into the Optimus Regni, here is your first opportunity!¡±


    The Headmaster left the stage with a dramatic skip to the side. Giving way for the wall of seats to slide forth and recline back to make a set of bleachers in a semicircle around the central podium.


    Through the round of applause, a figure rose from the stands to descend to the stage. Gently, as if he were standing on an invisible platform. He was tall, around a head shorter than the Headmaster. Covered in scale mail with gold trim that sat atop pale, almost glowing skin. With his hair and his eyes, he looked¡­ familiar. But I could not place his name. Not until his voice spread through the air like a chorus sung from the heavens themselves.


    ¡°My name is Dende Morningstar. Stellar Commander of New Dawn, Radiant Emperor of Polaris.¡±


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    ¡®Of course.¡¯


    ¡°I am here on behalf of the former and the following subguilds. Stellaris Garrison. Vergo Corps. Orion¡¯s Army. Crux Draconis. Rouge Hydra. Canis Red.¡± He paused. ¡°Our mission statement is and will always be as it was. That is: To spread a unified empire of peaceful humanoids across Nonus, united under the canopy of light. If you see that as a goal worth pursuing, well.¡± He inhaled sharply as his head lowered into a tiny bow. ¡°You know where to find us.¡±


    ¡°Wow.¡± Roheisa shook her head. And admittedly, I laughed.


    Thankfully, a round of both unneeded and much-needed applause muffled the sound. His arrogance made him undeserving of the noise generated from his peers while his departure seemed to be an object of celebration for many of the students. And then the cycle continued. Guild after guild master approached the stage to shout out the name of their guild, their mission statement, and sometimes list off what type of mystics they were hoping to recruit.


    The Cowl- ranked in 9th place- wanted Artificers to craft tools and toxins for their Assassins Guild. Rex Magica and Agnes Arcanum, ranked 11th and 12th respectively, wanted genius Artificers to assist with their research. Number 14, Sinestro¡¯s Quartet wanted Bards while number 25, The Toothy Maw, wanted beast hunters for their traveling restaurant. And on and on and on until we were dismissed to try and get some sleep before our trials.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect the guilds to have such niche roles.¡±


    We had just left the central hub and were on our way to our common area. Teo¡¯s remark was one of many that came from the Maruleans, both in our party and out.


    ¡°Most cities and guilds get absorbed by Polaris as they expand evermore,¡± I explained. ¡°Those that survive have monopolies on things Polaris does not. Or, they are too far away from the City of Light for them to care yet.¡±


    ¡°Yet?¡±


    ¡°A singular empire means everyone plays by Polaris¡¯ rules,¡± Opal explained in my stead.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t have an interest in any of them,¡± Roheisa said with a wave. ¡°But, if I have to pick, I¡¯d rather go somewhere I could do some good.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Opal stopped in place to clap her cheeks with both hands. ¡°I want to follow Amun,¡± she said. Swaying as if she were hugging herself.


    ¡°Why?¡± Roheisa sneered. Though she tried to hide it.


    Opal stopped swaying immediately. ¡°Vampiric reasons. Things mortals wouldn''t understand,¡± she said. A single eye open and throwing daggers from its corner.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to Gray Lagoon,¡± Zohnos said from just ahead. Though the angst in his voice was clear as well. ¡°They are ranked 49th. A general force guild found in a sea to the far west.¡±


    ¡°General force?¡± Teo asked.


    ¡°They protect the locals in places Polaris does not care about. Usually outside of their territory, but not always.¡± I explained. ¡°They do many jobs for the people. A general force. Some people call them Gennys.¡±


    ¡°Oh, well.¡± She paused to bury her eyes into her pamphlet. ¡°I¡¯ll go to grow¡­ gr¡­ Grow-Kaya or whatever. What about you?¡±


    ¡®What about me?¡¯ I wondered.


    ¡°Are you okay, Rua?¡±


    I turned to her and realized we¡¯d made it back to the dorms and had been standing around for more than a few moments. If not to await my reply then to show concern over my mental trip up.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I shook my head. ¡°I just need to meditate. What was the question?¡±


    ¡°Is there any guild you¡¯re interested in?¡±


    Sighing, I stepped away from the door to sit before the window. ¡°I do not know which one is best for me.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± She sat by my side. ¡°What do you want to do?¡±


    ¡°I only know what I do not want to do.¡±


    ¡°And what is that?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°Ugh! Are you going to speak drivel or will you actually say something for once?¡± Teo huffed. And as always, Zohnos stomped up on his high horse. Only to be shut down at once. ¡°And you be quiet!¡± The Amazonian snapped. ¡°The words of the weak hold no merit!¡±


    ¡°What he means is.¡± Opal pushed between them with her absurd strength. ¡°He doesn¡¯t want to live a complacent- or perhaps a pacifistic life?¡±


    Gods damned vampires.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I sighed. Though I had no reasons for hiding my past. They shared their stories with me after all. That did not mean I owed them mine, though. But the thought of me gaining some insight from them was not out of my mind. ¡°I was raised in the north of Nonus. High in the mountains not far from Kodo Knight territory, in a monastic orphanage.¡± I looked at them in turn. ¡°They trained to control our emotions before we sought to master our bodies. They trained us in martial arts- they taught us to kill. Yet, they told us it was for the sake of healing. They had us practice pacifism, yet we trained as if we were readying for war. They had us dedicate our lives to reaching the potential of mind, body, and spirit. Learn to kill and harm. But do not kill. Do no harm. We could not protect ourselves or anyone else with such a philosophy. We could only be healthy. Live in peace. Let nature run its course. And die after living a meek life.


    ¡°I disagreed with that. So I was banished and descended the mountain to stowaway on a train heading south. I was eleven at the time. The following years were spent living in nature, just outside of a small city. Now I am here.¡±


    ¡°To find a family?¡± Roheisa halfway whispered to me.


    ¡°A... guide.¡± I squinted at her. ¡°That would be more appropriate to say. A guide. I wish to find a union of like-minded individuals with whom I can grow alongside. Whom I can master myself alongside¡±


    ¡°To reach your potential.¡± Opal finished.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Then join Amun¡¯s guild.¡±


    ¡°Tch!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind him.¡± Teo laughed at the closing door. ¡°Zohnos is a sore loser. But Amun¡¯s the real deal. Trust me, his magic covered the skies of Maru before. I saw it for myself.¡±


    Roheisa recoiled at once. ¡°Y- you saw that?¡±


    ¡°Yup!¡± Teo proudly nodded. ¡°All the way in Phaegrath. It was the most beautiful thing I ever witnessed. Did you see it?¡±


    ¡°I asked him to do it.¡± She gasped in disbelief. ¡°I wanted to see how strong he was. And¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I felt my hand brushing against my cheek. ¡°I am aware. He is in a league of his own.¡±


    ¡°Then, will you join up with us?¡± Teo held out her hand.


    ¡°Us?¡± Roheisa turned, then suddenly turned back as if she shouldn¡¯t have in the first place.


    ¡°My sisters.¡± Teo smiled. ¡°It¡¯s every Amazonian''s dream to take back the motherland. When he breaks the barrier in Maru, we¡¯ll finally be able to do it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m joining too.¡± Opal stepped toward me. ¡°Though, for my own reasons.¡±


    ¡°I assume you¡¯re joining too?¡± I nodded to Roheisa.


    ¡°I mean, Amun¡¯s family and mine have been close for centuries.¡± She turned away, sighing. ¡°I¡¯m more or less stuck with him.¡±


    ¡°I have considered it,¡± I admitted. ¡°But I know nothing of his character. Only what people say.¡±


    ¡°I can introduce you,¡± Opal said.


    ¡°I can introduce myself.¡± I stood to turn away. ¡°Now if you will excuse me, I need to meditate.¡±


    ¡°You can meditate with him too.¡± She took a step after me. ¡°He¡¯s trying to be a Monk, like you.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    With a bow to each of them. I walked and continued walking beyond the archway at the edge of our courtyard. I walked until I came to a seemingly random patch of stone beneath an open wound in the canopy, and sat.


    ¡®Perhaps I should meet him.¡¯


    That was the final thought to pass through my mind before it cleared. Almost without my influence, a stream of mana detached from my Well to stream through my core, circulate through my body and loop through the paths bored through my spirit until my Well was spent.


    Then I started again.


    And again.


    And again.


    Until¡­ I felt something. A presence. But when I opened my eyes, the only thing standing before me were two stone rods connected by a black chain.


    ¡°Nunchaku?¡±


    I first noticed my voice trailing out into the night. Then my hand, gripped around the weapon before a whispering voice sprinted through my mind.


    ¡®Have mercy!¡¯


    Without my action, my arms strained. My feet were dragged to straddle the base of the nunchaku and I felt myself pulling with all my might until the weapon finally broke from the ground with a¡­ howl?


    I fell onto my back and rolled, cupping an object that certainly was not stone until I clambered to my feet and looked down to see a Howler Parrot gasping to breathe in my arms.


    ¡°Ah!¡± I rolled to place it on the ground at once. Then watched it kick and flail its broken wings with pained howls. After a deep breath, I crossed the distance to kneel before it and once again cradle it in my hand. This time by the neck. ¡°Forgive my hesitation.¡± I wrenched it as swiftly as I could. Ending the bird¡¯s life with a final cry that outplayed the sharp crack that had caused it. And yet, another howl echoed against the dying cry of the first.


    I turned in time to see a plume of feathers silhouetted against the darkness before I ducked, feeling a hot line drawn across my cheek. Then I started to swing. Another line. Another cut. Another swing. Having no other choice, I fought blindly until I felt a subtle shock ring through my hand and heard a howl ring through the night like before. I stopped, breathed, and searched for the clump of feathers spasming in the darkness to stand before it and take a final swing at its neck. After the final cry echoed like the first, I stood and cautiously turned. Watched for any clumps of feathers to be silhouetted against the darkness and saw none.


    I looked down again. First to where the birds were slain, only to see two ambiguous patches of grass. Then I looked at my hands, where I saw them. A pair of stone rods connected by a black chain, the words ¡®Mercy¡¯ and ¡®Reprisal¡¯ etched onto their surfaces. And a voice that rang in my mind like a bell.


    ¡°At last, I have found you. Master.¡±

 154 - Rage Burns

    Roheisa Deapou.


    ***


    Life was beautiful.


    ¡®I love you, Mama.¡¯


    And unfair.


    ¡°Mama is gone?¡¯


    Like I¡¯d done many times before, I looked back on that little girl standing at the rim of an iron caldera with her father. Steaming tears rolled down a polished face of gray and orange as she stared out into the beyond, seeing nothing.


    ¡°Come, Ro.¡±


    Her father, a pillar of a man who had always been the epitome of strength, honor, and everything right in the world, beckoned her into an amber pit with him. His face was a flaked bust of scalding black tears and hellish red wrinkles. A literal shell of the most important being that remained in her life.


    ¡°It is not your fault.¡±


    Her mother had been sick since the day she was born. It took her years after she was gone to learn the reason why. Nativity Infusion Syndrome.


    ¡°Nor is it the Witch¡¯s fault.¡±


    A child with a body infused with steel passing through the birth canal caused as much damage to the spirit as it did to the flesh.


    ¡°The fault lies with none of us mortal souls.¡±


    No magic or witchcraft could have healed something like that. No matter how hard they tried.


    ¡°It is the Gods who left cruelty in this world!¡±


    Only a Divine being could have healed her.


    ¡°Do you feel it? The pain burning like the magma around us?¡±


    ''Yes.''


    ¡°Grasp on to it.¡±


    ''But. It hurts.''


    ¡°To live is to hurt, my sweet. To die is to spit in the face of your mother¡¯s wish for you to live. To live for her is to suffer still.


    Her father, wise and strong as he was, did not want his daughter, nor any child for that matter, to fight. But she had to. Everyone had to. For the laws of the lands the Gods left for us dictated we do nothing less to survive.


    ¡°Here.¡±


    He pulled a short sword of iron from thin air and placed it in her hand. And he drew a hand axe from nowhere to place in her other hand.


    ¡°Gather the pain this unfair world inflicts upon you in the furnace of your heart, Ro. Smelt it into anger. Forge it into fury. Strike at your enemies until you can strike at the heavens themselves, Ro. That is the only way.


    ¡°And if you ever begin to think the heat is too much for you to bear, remember, Roheisa...¡±


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Steel glows hotter than magma.¡±


    ¡®Yo, what the fuck?¡¯


    After growling that red flag for all to hear, Roheisa burned the slip of paper she¡¯d been staring at and darted through the portal at full speed. In turn, the screen flickered. And a moment later she was sprinting through a wildfire. Seemingly uncaring of the smoke and roiling flames flanking her sides. Instead, she just ran. Without purpose, my peers assumed by the account of their faces. But I could see the spell I taught her doing its magic. With each stride, the magnetic fields fluctuating around her body added to the charge in her steel. Increasing her speed, heat, and perhaps her anger as well.


    Suddenly, the cameras or enchantments or whatever it was hidden in the forest switched to a chase cam at Roheisa¡¯s rear. They flicked between perspectives like a choppy video as she took powerful strides through the forest until a flicker of motion triggered the camera to pan left just before a loud smack rang through the common area. The screens flashed red and Roheisa was seen tumbling across the ground in the next instant. In her place was a six-meter-long serpentine human covered in red scales of what appeared to be steel.


    Its frilled face and spine coiled in what I interpreted as disgust as it slithered forth, burning the ground and igniting charred pine from meters away as it closed the distance to swing a large spetum across Roheisa¡¯s back. The spear, forged with dagger-like protrusions at the base of the spearhead, dug into her back with ease, sending scalding blood and magma trailing in the wake of the weapon before it lurched down with blinding speed to stab the protrusion into the top of Roheisa¡¯s shoulder.


    Her scream was more one of rage than pain. The mana imbued in it ignited the air itself as she turned, swinging her a short sword and axe of crystalline steel one after the other.


    The creature let out a blowtorch of a screech as it slithered back, negating Roheisa¡¯s onslaught to a mere nick across the chest before it lunged forward in an attempt to intercept her follow-through. A spark traced down Roheisa¡¯s arm in response and her body blurred, but the creature was already on the move. Ducking out of the way of her attack, it writhed and coiled around her body and let out an infernal laugh as it began to constrict and taunt her in a voice that sounded like wood crackling under a flame.


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    Roheisa screamed and the creature squeezed again. Her back arched in pain and the flow of mana within her stopped. Then bloomed enough for it to show through the creature¡¯s flesh. The power rose up into an opalescent glow that swelled in her jaws just before rows and rows of crystalline shark teeth stretched her mouth wide.


    And then she clamped down.


    ¡®So stupid.¡¯


    Without even trying, the beast slithered away and snapped back like a rubber band equipped with a spear.


    The blade panged against Roheisa¡¯s jaw in a burst of flame, crystals, and spittle. Sending her head reeling back hard enough to decompress her spine and free her organs to be constricted further. The creature¡¯s snicker was like a bonfire caught in the rain. A roaring inferno of cracks and the soft hisses of collapsing ash petering out.


    Roheisa¡¯s enraged growl sent electricity through the creature¡¯s body just before she roared. Releasing a cluster bomb of magma, electricity, magnetic fields, steel, and crystals to explode along the innards of her opponent. As it screamed in pain, Roheisa reached high to grow a broken sword with a crystal shard pommel and brought it down with a feral scream. Sinking it through the eye to the hilt.


    The beast twitched and writhed to get away from the current and magnetic field shocking it in place while Roheisa screamed again, flailed, and shanked the creature in the other eye.


    Clutching its eyes with one hand, it thrashed its spear with wild abandon and attempted to double down on its constriction. Screaming all the while, Roheisa wiggled furiously. Sending more and more cobalt sparks to skip across the serpent¡¯s writhing body. She wiggled and writhed while the beast thrashed and swung its weapon. For seconds and nearly on to a minute until glowing clusters of serrated and bloodied stalactites and stalagmites began to appear on Roheisa¡¯s body. And when she fully emerged, I could almost feel the creature¡¯s fear from here.


    She ripped her ankle free with an animalistic grunt and stomped down in the same motion. Releasing a wave of crimson mana that dug hellish cracks into the stone at her feet. She pivoted with another grunt, collapsing the ground into a boiling field of lava that quickly began spreading a crimson glow up her legs, across her body, and up to her head.


    Eyes blazing with volcanic fury, Roheisa arched back to send a vengeful scream to the heavens. Her magic reached critical mass and was split into opalescent gray masses that swelled into her hands to take the shape of a crystal-tipped hammer and sword.


    Then she charged.


    In two strides, she crossed the 25 meters to the edge of her caldera and weaved under the creature¡¯s wild swing to deliver a backhand with her hammer to its lower torso. The creature keeled forward as a dull metallic pang echoed through the hellscape, opening up its neck for Roheisa¡¯s short sword to slice across as she followed through. Without slowing down, she reeled around to slice at its neck from the other side before her hammer trailed behind it to smack the beast in the back of the head. Forcing an infernal cry from its assumed lungs as it was brought to its arms, where its head shook, snapped to the side, and quickly froze upon seeing Roheisa dropping her hammer with a guttural scream.


    A final crackling cry rang through the screens before the creature¡¯s head shattered in an explosion of magma, steel, and crystals. The serpentine body undulated like a wave from the force of the impact. Sending tidal waves of lava sweeping over the surrounding forest for what appeared to be miles. And still, Roheisa screamed. She gripped her sword overhead with both hands and brought it down on the creature¡¯s nape, dug her feet into the lava, and stomped forward to bisect it through to the tail. Roaring animalistically all the while.


    ¡°Well fuck. I had no idea she was so... aggressive.¡± Els murmured sheepishly.


    ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s angry as fuck!¡± Zakira droned on the word in the way she always did.


    ¡°Yeah, well. Her dad¡¯s a Berserker.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°What¡¯s your dad?¡± She asked.


    ¡°I''m told he''s a Rogue. Yours?¡±


    ¡°A Vampire Lord, duh!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, duh.¡± I snickered. But still, that was amazing.


    What was more amazing, however, was the implications of the Salamander she just slew. It was a sentient creature born from the Elemental Plane of Fire. It implied that our teachers sent reports to the Optimus Regni. Details about our abilities. Firstly for the sake of recruiting. But also to have them get their hands on creatures that had immunities to our powers. In Roheisa¡¯s case, living metal in the form of a serpentine human.


    In other words.


    ¡°Sink or swim.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    Fuck.


    ¡°That¡¯s the name of the game.¡± I turned to Zakira, Peter, and the others who heard me. ¡°Whatever it is we¡¯ll be fighting, they¡¯ll be immune or at least resistant to our abilities. And they¡¯ll be strong enough to do that to us.¡± I threw my chin to Roheisa. Covered in blood and bruises rather than metal and crystals.


    ¡°I accept the challenge.¡± Kao stepped in with Slate. ¡°But I am also curious. What is strong enough to do that to you? What is immune to your powers?¡±


    ¡°A minotaur, right?¡± Peter asked. ¡°That¡¯s what you said?¡±


    ¡°That was before I awakened my cores.¡± And before I had any undead. ¡°Besides, they aren¡¯t immune to my powers. They¡¯re just hard to kill.¡±


    ¡°So then, what?¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± My eyes traced the room as if an answer was written on the walls. Although it could¡¯ve been. If I had one. But eventually, my eyes landed on Urshure, listening in silently from the corner. Which may as well have been the same thing.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± I asked the Dragonborne.


    ¡°I would say you¡¯re as strong as a-¡±


    ¡°HOLY SHIT! Uh!¡± Turning with everyone else, I saw Toni sheepishly hiding behind her seat. ¡°Sorry! But, I mean. LOOK AT THIS!¡± She threw her finger toward her screen, prompting us to turn to the devices nearest to us. And I couldn¡¯t blame her reaction.


    On all of them was a creature that made my inner child leap with joy. A T-Rex in the roaring flesh. But not the leathery flesh seen so often in the late and early 20th and 21st-century media. It was a Rex covered in feathers that gleaned with the luster of blackened steel. And standing in front of it as if it wasn¡¯t even there was a boy with yellow-tan skin and jet-black hair tied back into a ponytail.


    ¡°I remember him,¡± I said to no one in particular.


    But Zakira replied anyway. ¡°Who is he?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know his name.¡± I shrugged. ¡°But I kicked him in the face during the last raid.¡±


    If Zakira wanted to reply, she was cut short by another roar from the Rex before it charged to deftly pivot on its feet. Its tail came sweeping through the air not a moment later. Felling trees and knocking swathes of shrubs flat as it rocketed towards the Monk-to-be at blinding speed. And with similarly blinding speed, he pivoted to meet the tail with his fist and blow it away in a powerful shockwave.


    Wasting no time, he kicked off the ground to rush forward and slide up beside the Rex¡¯s leg, jumped and delivered another air-shattering spin kick to the dinosaur¡¯s ankle, and quickly leaped back before it toppled to the side like a feathered, screaming and thrashing felled tree. And again, without hesitating, he bounded up to the Rex¡¯s nape and raised an open hand before his arm blurred.


    The ground quaked a split second later. Ejecting a plume of blood, dust, stone, earth, and a curious flash of black into the air before the shockwave was sent echoing through the forest. Just before the echoes faded into silence, a soft rainfall rose to pick up where it left off. Soon after the dust cleared to reveal a patch of woods covered in a thin film of dusty blood. Scattered here and there were small hills of shredded flesh and upturned earth. And standing in the midst of it all was a young man with a stone rod draped by his side; a stone stick suspended by a black chain that connected to the matching stick held in his hand.


    ¡®It seems I found another point of interest.¡¯ I grinned and took a moment to study the annotations clouding around the screen around the sentient weapon''s new master. ¡®Rua Nun.¡¯

 155 - The Power to Smite

    Titus ''Storm King'' Zlock.


    ***


    It had been a struggle, in my youth. Toeing the line between justice for all and glory for one. But I did it. Just when I grew accustomed to it, however, the struggle changed.


    Duty and purpose.


    Good and evil.


    Educator and subordinate.


    Even now, I struggle.


    Deciding what was right and just was something I left to those brighter than me. For decades, I had been satiated with smiting those who were deserving. But even I could see some things for what they were.


    A vampire killing a ghast; that was fitting.


    A Triton felling a Merman; that was natural.


    An Amazonian Warrior slaying a Fomori; That was impressive.


    Tasking a young knight to slay a mere magical beast? It was a spit in the face to someone with as high a potential as Toril O''Connell. It was a decision made by those too weak to fend it off themselves. But tasking the prodigious son of the Nox to kill the Bairn was admittedly ingenious. And dangerous even more so.


    ¡°What¡¯s on your mind, Titus?¡±


    ¡°Which one?¡± I grunted out of habit. I didn¡¯t even need to turn to see the perpetually uncaring smile smeared across Mack¡¯s face. He was a paladin of many years like me and had adopted a crude humor that held no regard for authority. A phlegmatic humor that demanded everyone from the lowest candle to the brightest light be laughed at in that same indignant way.


    ¡°All of them.¡± Mack Ronald barked out the words as quickly as I did and silently chuckled on his way to the closest seat. He was one of the few who understood me without words. But it was more than that. More than family or comrades or lovers even. We had a bond forged through decades of war. A bond created by stepping through the veil of madness and looking around to see that others much different from ourselves had made the journey as well, and thus we shook hands.


    ¡°The most important mind is forever at peace, old friend.¡± I smiled at him. ¡°My faith is absolute.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to cover yourself.¡± He snickered. After all these years, his face was still boyish. Rich brown and shaved smooth, even after days in the field. Despite it being tougher than old leather, aged like great whiskey, and born entirely human.


    ¡°As I was saying. Another mind is curious,¡± I said. ¡°The Tree seemed too eager to offer up the Bairn to Amun. Despite the damned rules and the problems doing nothing could cause us down the line, I can¡¯t help but feel like they wanted this.¡±


    ¡°A lot of us feel the same way. If he raises it for himself-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s an unknown.¡± I spat. ¡°What is known is that the Bairn will kill thousands if it reaches our borders and thousands more if it lives to see adulthood. Our borders lie within the Scourge¡¯s territory, mind you. Either case would see our forces moved away from the front. You know what happens after that.¡±


    ¡°The City of Light cannot take a battle between the Scourge and the Protector. ¡°So we send the young sire of a Scourge to find the young sire of a Scourge and hope for the best?¡± He rolled his hands like a rebellious teenager. Then flicked his eyes back to me with a smile that made it impossible for me to feel anything other than amusement.


    ¡°You know the Necro King is a scourge only to his enemies. We would have only a fraction of our power if not for him and the Iron Magus.¡± I flicked my head with a boisterous laugh. ¡°Has the front has turned your mind simple?¡±


    ¡°Enemy and ally are two sides of the same coin.¡± Mack chided back. ¡°And the actions of the great-grandfather have naught to do with the credibility of the great-grandson. Or has the rear turned your heart naive and warm?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps that is the third mind speaking, then.¡± I sighed. ¡°It has grown tired of this place, old friend. Tired of blurring the line between just and unjust in the pursuit of knowledge. This Class.¡± I gestured to the screen. ¡°Will be my last.¡±


    ¡°Why this one?¡± he asked. ¡°Why not nine nine eight or one thousand??


    ¡°For whatever reason, what everyone says is true.¡± I tossed my hand at the screens. ¡°Class nine nine nine is the greatest seen in centuries. Since the Tree¡¯s inception, even.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I heard that.¡± Mack sighed in objective wonder. ¡°I¡¯m curious as to why that is.¡±


    ¡°That is for the light to unveil. My focus is on what comes next.¡±


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    He followed my eyes to the screen. To a young man who blurred the lines between lean and stocky. He had dark brown skin and black hair that¡¯d been shaved on the sides to leave a cluster of locks dangling from his brow. Toril O¡¯Connell.


    ¡°Not much armor for a future Paladin.¡± Mack snorted. Though it was true. Only his head, left arm, and right leg were armored in bronze and black metals that I recognized at a glance.


    ¡°Leiptr Steel,¡± I grunted. ¡°And adamantine.¡±


    Mack whistled low. ¡°The whole suit?¡±


    ¡°The weapon too.¡±


    The head was bronze and black like his armor and unremarkable other than the pair of enchantments set between the leafed blade and the round hammer on its opposing end. The handle, however, was objectively long for a one-handed axe and had been carved of the strange black wood that grew in only one place.


    ¡°Doyle, old friend. What can you tell us of this one?¡±


    ¡°Toril O¡¯Connell is a knight from the Odissian Empire in Maru.¡±


    ¡°Amun¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He reluctantly sighed. ¡°Toril was born with lightning magic. And was given gas, combustion, and weight magic at his awakening.¡±


    ¡°Four affinities.¡± Mack and a slew of others whistled low.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Doyle nodded again. ¡°However, Toril is one of the hardest students to gauge in terms of abilities. First, he¡¯s the only non-royal with a Diamond Well; and an Eighth Grade one to boot. From what I¡¯ve observed, he¡¯s been known to sit most fights out, only acting to protect himself and his closest allies. Leading me to presume that Toril fights for one reason and one reason only. Survival.¡±


    As if on cue, Toril stepped through the gate and immediately halted. Uncaring of the skies above or the potential threat around him, he stared down for seconds at the cracked and caked grounds of the badlands in which he found himself before his eyes turned upward. It was a sight that made me lean forward. A sight that made Toril squint before he threw himself skyward with a swing of his weapon.


    ¡°Smart,¡± I grunted. But allowed Doyle to explain.


    ¡°His opponent is an Elder Spark Badger. A giant version of the lesser creature known to tunnel through the badlands to generate el- lightning through the fur on its coat.¡± Doyle sighed, curiously enough. ¡°As you can see, this variant is known to be able to produce storms. So Toril¡¯s lightning will have no effect on this creature.¡±


    And yet the same was true for Toril. The lightning bolts the Badger could summon would have no effect on the young knight and he knew it. Or rather, he used to his advantage to pinpoint the creature¡¯s location in a fraction of a second and raised his axe overhead to deposit an admirable amount of mana into it before he arced back and threw it.


    Like a bolt of lightning, the hammerhead slammed into the ground with tremendous force. Spewing rock and dirt from the ground to be taken by the wind and reveal a large beast covered in spiky dull-yellow fur pinned beneath Toril¡¯s weapon while far above, the clouds toiled.


    The winds picked up soon after and evolved into a raging cyclone of storm clouds and lightning spiraling down into Toril¡¯s weapon. As more of the storm fell into the weapon, the axehead began glowing white-hot and the creature began to scream as all beasts did in their final moments. It thrashed and pushed on the weapon with its claws and the weapon pushed back into its ribs to crush them into powder. The enchantments began glowing soon after and the toiling clouds started to disperse and wane and form into a final bolt of white lightning that cascaded into the weapon from on high.


    At that moment, the screens rattled and flashed white before they switched to another perspective, leagues upon leagues away to give us witness to the largest explosion many of us had seen in quite some time.


    The sight lingered for a moment and suddenly flickered back to a view of Toril just before the shockwave came to the Bodhi Tree; regrettably so. Instead, we watched Toril hold his hand out expectantly and observe his carnage with intent disinterest until the energy from his shockwave cartwheeled his weapon back to his hand. Then he left with nary a look back. For his opponent had been smitten to nothing.


    ¡°I guess you¡¯ve got a new protege.¡± Mack chuckled after my period of awed silence.


    ¡°Oh!¡± I laughed. ¡°You¡¯ll feel the same way about the next one, my friend. They both may have already sworn fealty to another. But I can instill the Light¡¯s principles in them yet.¡±


    As we would usually do, we debated on the oaths and paths Toril and the other students would be privy to in just six months. It was common for those trained like Toril, Issac, and of course, the royals to have a number of Master Classes available to them upon awakening. Even I had four to choose from, one of them being Paladin, of course. Oath of the Storm King. A Class Toril would be privy to as well, I was sure. However, I did not share the potential class of the next participant and waited eagerly until the screens switched to the figure of a doll-like young woman with pale skin and large eyes, wherein I asked Doyle to give a short explanation of her background.


    ¡°Lucia Pike is a knight from the Deapou Empire. Yes.¡± He sighed. ¡°That makes her Roheisa Deapou¡¯s knight. She was born with Blade Magic and was given Bronze and Wing magic at her awakening. Initially, she struggled to properly apply her magic in combat. But once she learned how to fuse her magics.¡± Doyle smiled brightly. A rare sight by no small measure. ¡°She quickly rose to the top tier of Alpha Party.¡±


    Doyle had no need to explain her opponent this time around. It was a creature familiar to all who roamed Nonus. A Pit Drake. Or rather, a cruel mix between pit vipers and Wyverns. With spiked scales as hard as stone and venom that could be spat over a hundred meters, a swarm of them posed a problem even for us. A single one of them was a problem for a lower-ranked adventurer, let alone a first-year student. But there Lucia was. Standing tall, unarmed, and unarmored before a coiled-up monster that sat taller than a villa. All she wore was a strange mix between a long dress and a one-piece suit. Up until the moment she withdrew her magic.


    With my perception, I was able to first see gold, gray, and white lights glow within her body before they mixed and bloomed into life. From the light first came a skin that grew above her clothes to cover her chest in bronze plates with magical inlays of whites and grays. Bronze blades grew into pauldrons and loincloths as the armor grew across her shoulders and waist, and then on to bronze-tipped, bladed feathers that sprouted from her back like the wings of a celestial.


    There was utter silence as the skin reached her hands and elongated into a great spear and shield. But when the skin grew across her face, the song of gasps I¡¯d been waiting for rang throughout the Cap at last.


    Just like the rest of her armor, Lucia Pike¡¯s helmet was formed into a baroque mask of white with bronze curls. Just like the legends of old. And Mack just couldn¡¯t help himself at letting the spectators know what that meant.


    ¡°She''s a Valkyrie!¡±

 156 - Infernal Pains

    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°Not to talk down on Amethyst, but you can only watch so many Barbarian fights before you get bored.¡±


    ¡°The same can be said of our class you know.¡± Zeff harrumphed.


    ¡°But our class can do more.¡± I grinned while pointing between us. ¡°But still.¡± I turned back to my screen. ¡°She is strong.¡± All Goliaths were. But not all Goliaths were as smart and driven as the four Goliaths found in Class 999, though I knew not where that drive would get them. Unless they were willing to become Clerics or Warlocks, their prospects of using the magic they sought to control were nil. Perks would only get them so far. Unless they obtained a Master or Prestige Class.


    Naturally, we told them that; Or Zeff did.


    Naturally, they disagreed.


    Naturally, they didn¡¯t need them either. Amethyst astonished everyone by using jars of oil and a simple torch to dry out a clay golem before she brutally pummeled it to dust with a war hammer. Therein brought about the events I dreaded the most. The last two of the day. That of Zarzok and Phelaia¡¯s.


    While Striflings were fairly common in Nonus, infernal Striflings with demonic blood- Oni blood flowing within them were not. Thus I couldn''t see them gazed upon favorably by the guilds of Polaris. That was due mostly to ignorance on their part. But even in the cases where it wasn''t, such knowledge was an insignificant distinction.


    ¡°Our last participants are Fiends.¡± Titus needlessly explained to his companion, but loud enough for the rest of the Polaris guilds to hear him and turn with a mix of scowls and raised brows upon hearing the word.


    ¡°First a Vampire Lady and now fiends.¡± Rouge Hydra''s Guildmaster muttered in a not-so-private way. And he wasn¡¯t the only one. Many of the Genny¡¯s expressed concern about having either of them join them for their work-study based on accusations that their blood or their lust for it makes them ruthless predators.


    Only a half-truth. While Zarzok was indeed ruthless, the event failed to show them Zarzok¡¯s other side. His evident fascination with learning about the ¡®human realm¡¯ and engaging in lighthearted conversations with all manner of people. The event failed to show that Zarzok took pride in others just as much as he took pride in himself. He was a warm, kind soul who just so happened to be able to eviscerate someone with a smile on his face. And because of that, no one sought to get to know him. They would only see a humanoid coated in red skin with red eyes and jeweled horns walking through the portal to meet another ¡®monster.¡¯


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    That was made evident by Titus¡¯ indifference to Zarzok¡¯s performance. Although he paid close attention to him stepping into the hellish environment of obsidian and lava lakes found near the archipelagos of the southern Bodhi Peninsula. Planted within that biome was a Gargoyle Chief. A variant with denser stone inlaid with a magical metal that granted heat absorption properties. Though it was indistinguishable from a regular statue when not moving, it didn¡¯t take a genius to see it for what it was in the otherwise natural landscape. A lone grotesque statue standing at the shores of a burning lake.


    Upon seeing it, Zarzok just smiled at it for seconds unto minutes until he finally chuckled to himself. ¡°Looks like I get to use these after all.¡± His words sparked a lot of disgruntled interest in the Regni. And that interest quickly began to border harsh judgment once Zarzok reached into his satchel to retrieve a pair of hellishly taloned gauntlets.


    His charge was like a streak of red and black across a similarly hued environment. A blur that was hardly distinguishable before the camera flicked to Zarzok standing before a dismembered gargoyle chief.


    Before its arm could fly out of range, Zarzok blurred again and the loud screech of metal on stone pierced the air. Another blur and the second arm was flung away. Then the gargoyle screamed. Still smiling, Zarzok wedged a knife hand in the gargoyle¡¯s maw and pulled with ridiculous strength to rip its stone feet from the ground. It soared like a boulder thrown by a giant. Far from the lava lake that¡¯d been sustaining it and precariously close to the gate meant to bring Zarzok back here. But much to everyone¡¯s relief, Zarzok jumped into action before it could fully come to a rest.


    With his physical strength alone, Zarzok sprang high into the air. Soared dozens of meters to plummet onto the gargoyle¡¯s waist, where he proceeded to carve through and eviscerate the gargoyle chief to stone and metal ribbons


    It was as short and gruesome as everyone expected. Perhaps even more so, judging by the wide-eyed silence that¡¯d spread through the Regni and lasted long after the screens flickered to reveal the final participant of the day.


    Like Zarzok, she had a long tail and vibrantly colored skin and eyes. Only, her skin was a vibrant light purple and her eyes were a mix of the same color and a nightly black. Unlike Zarzok, she was quiet and, despite how powerful she was, she was one of the few students to have less than five encounters under her belt. And this fight against a Nightmare made it her third.


    Though she hadn¡¯t said it, my inclination was that she simply didn¡¯t like to fight for some reason outside of pacifism. She was here to become a Witch, after all. However, her potential Class didn¡¯t mean she was unwilling to fight. On the contrary, she approached the infernal steed with the same unwavering resolve as her classmates. But she brought no harm to the nightmare. She simply incanted something in Infernal and enveloped the nightmare in a sphere of hellfire that saw it disappear, banished.


    A rather uneventful conclusion for the first day of matches. But alas, two matches per hour meant the official business was concluded just before lunch. And so marked the start of the unofficial work of listening in on the Regni¡¯s opinions. Which was more of a hassle than the official stuff.

 157 - Domain

    Amun.


    ***


    With the matches done for the day and lunch taken care of, I elected to spend the rest of the day perusing through our pamphlets to see what guild I¡¯d shadow with when the time came.


    Naturally, the Polaris guilds were out of the question. The last thing I wanted was to take orders from some self-righteous prick, much less anyone else. That took the first 6, the eighth, and the 10th guilds off the list immediately, with the 8th being the Marulean Guild Army. Not that I knew what they did to distinguish them from the Association, but they worked under the command of one Amos Silva. Of what relation to Zeke was my biggest guess, but I would find out in due time, I supposed.


    Blue Lion¡¯s Guild was ranked just above them, an independent band of mercenaries operating in north-central Polaris. Another immediate no, as experience and maybe some undead were the only prospects of working with them. The 9th greatest guild, The Cowl, was considered but eventually dismissed due to me naturally being an assassin and my ambitions being much higher than that. I planned to have assassins working for me, after all.


    Continuing down the line to find the guilds I didn¡¯t want brought me to Greenwater Transport, ranked 13th. They were an independent group primarily composed of Rangers near central Polaris. Although they had bases in other quadrants scattered around Polaris and the Sirius Kingdom closer to the Betrarthian portal, I had no intentions of being a magical taxi, despite the potentiality of me getting a much-desired lay of the land. Nor did I have any intentions of becoming a bard, so I skipped past Sinestro¡¯s Quartet and skipped again past Bombyx Grove to make a short stop at the 17th guild, Rocks. They were a terraforming and battlefield sanitation effort located in the badlands to the far east of Polaris'' Territory. Going there would allow me to learn how people used magic and enchantments to mold environments to their liking. But that was it, so I eventually declined.


    Bedrock Forge, on the other hand, was something I couldn¡¯t join if my life depended on it. It was a Dwarven Artisinal Guild. And Drow were most certainly not allowed. But I knew someone who was. And I knew he needed no convincing to work under them and learn as much as he could. So I moved on to place The Millers and the three that followed them on the ¡®No¡¯ list as well. Ranked in 20th place, The Millers were a group of private investigators and nothing more. Similarly, Plassein¡¯s Hunting Guild hunted, Turncoat Mercantile traded, and G3, the Bodhi Tree Fighter¡¯s Subguild, fought. Sunshield Industries was in 27th place as a union that specialized in mega-constructions. They were certainly impressive, but something more fitted for my Chief Engineer. The following three were definite no¡¯s as well. The Changelings specialized in body augmentation and cosmetics, the Green League was the Barbarian Subguild for the Bodhi Tree, and the Cloud Shapers specialized in environmental or weather control and disaster relief.


    And then came the ¡®Fuck No¡¯ List.


    Bira Brigade, ranked 35th, was another Taxi service found on the outskirts of Polaris. The Ozetia Crawlers were ranked 38th and operated as a rescue force in the mountains to the far north. Betelle Mercantile, 39th, was another union of merchants, rogues, rangers, fighters, and artificers that operated in both Maru and Nonus and perhaps beyond. The worst of them all was the 40th. A bunch of self-proclaimed good Samaritans who unimaginatively called themselves the Sky Keepers. A police force found only in the sky, for some odd reason. Their Guildmaster wasn''t even a Sapiavi, although the Cloud Shapers'' was. But I digress. The last guild to be placed on my ¡®No¡¯ list was Slirial Grove, for obvious reasons.


    With my markings complete, I started from the top to go through the ¡®Maybe So¡¯ list.


    It wound up being remarkably short, containing only three lines of text. The first two were Rex Magica and Agnes Arcanum, ranked 11th and 12th respectively. Both specialized in research and artificing, but the latter was advertised as the Bodhi Tree¡¯s Artificer Subguild. With my prospects of learning the craft in half a year''s time, I decided to place the two on the back burner and revisit them in a year or so. As was the case with Greywater Apothecary. An independent alchemical superlab located on the outskirts of Polaris Central. A great place to learn a higher tier of potions, I was sure. But again, I already planned to dabble in alchemy during my second year and pass on the job to a subordinate thereafter.


    With that list done, I was left with a slew of interesting or prospective options to choose from. Perhaps the most intriguing of them all was the 18th guild. The White Wisps. Located in Polaris Central, they were an independent and secretive Senders Guild advertised to use and sometimes sell a variety of communication-based goods or even send parcels over vast distances. Although my magic allowed me to do such things with ease, having redundancies or negating the need to load down my legionaries with enchantments were advantages I couldn¡¯t pass up. However, the same could be said for the Nein Archives. They were a spellbinding guild in Polaris Central. Ranked 24th, their libraries contained a vast wealth of historical knowledge, but they were famous for their spellbinding services, wherein they¡¯d pay a veritable fortune to document a mystic''s spells.


    While I had no intentions of sharing my spells, I did seek to peruse the treasures hidden in their libraries; however, the fact that objective truth was rarely found in such pieces of literature remained present in my mind.


    The 25th guild was another to go on the ¡®Yes¡¯ list. The Toothy Maw had both chefs and beast hunters working in their traveling restaurant and I was all too eager to familiarize my palate with exotic dishes and gain a horde of crafting materials to boot.


    The Purists; ranked 26th, provided much the same benefits as well; albeit in a different way. Their specialty was to travel to Nonus to perform exorcisms and rid the lands of the undead and other tainted things. A noble endeavor that I was more than capable and willing to help them accomplish.


    Wizard¡¯s Wright was another spellbinding guild that was smaller than the Archives but said to contain a higher quality of tomes than quantity. A claim that needed more investigation before I was to decide between the two.


    Perhaps even higher than the White Wisps were five guilds that utterly fascinated me. Though for differing reasons. At 32nd place, The Life Bloods were the largest union of magical anthropologists and taxonomists in Nonus. An interesting endeavor on its own, but I found myself curious as to how my necromancy would come into play with those fields of study. The Free Laborers, placed just below them, were a nomadic group of missionaries who traveled the lands in search of prisoners. Seeking to reform and reintegrate them into society. A seemingly noble endeavor, but I was sure some of them were unable to be redeemed. Thus making it a prime ground for cursing and dealing. Below them was Graystone. A group of Rogues, Rangers, and Artificers who were doing what I planned to do once I left this place. They explored ancient ruins for the sake of recovering ancient knowledge.


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    The 36th and 37th guilds were placed on the list more for insight than anything else. 36th was Ayolia Nursery, a place where magical plants, flowers, and trees were cultivated in excess to be sold for profit. And Hotis Cartographers did just as their name suggested.


    With that, all that remained were the 41st through the 50th guilds. They were all general force guilds, or Gennys, all scattered amongst the small townships and fiefdoms found at the edges of Polaris¡¯ vast territory. There, they acted not only as militaries or police forces for the locals, but as couriers, farmhands, instructors, and a slew of other things as well. Not much was told about them other than where in the realm they were found, what type of creatures they faced there, and what type of mystics they were seeking to recruit. Though some of them gave some sort of inclination of their natures through their names.


    Of them all, I narrowed it down to just four. The Sikaria Armada and Gray Lagoon- ranked 41st and 49th, gave me a chance to explore some ocean depths and possibly recover some sunken ships to prepare for when I find Henry¡¯s seafloor crawler and perhaps make my own as well. On the other hand, the very last guild was found near the Steam Line far to the south. There, The Misty Arbor Keepers fought day in and day out to keep their commonwealth safe. Making it the most suitable place to gain experience. Not to mention, it had quite an exotic landscape. And lastly, there was the Xikkavell Monastery. Ranked 43rd, it was located at a meeting point between the badlands to the far west and the gelid mountains to the north.


    After wasting away the day and some of the night, my decision had been made and I was off to my room to meditate and arise in the wee hours of the morning for my normal routine in our rented room. Under the cover of magical darkness, I practiced casting what was my strongest combination spell for hours until the time finally came to experiment with the magic I¡¯d been brainstorming about for months.


    The Void.


    My previous experiment led me to describe my Void Sorcery as the power of potential. While it did indeed destroy indiscriminately, it was still entropy manifested in magical form. All things it touched were transformed into energy and poured into a domain that either pre-existed or spawned into existence at that very moment. Alone, I assumed my sorcery could only fill that void with death and darkness. But with my other affinities, so too could there be light and radiation. Space and time. Gravity and Light. Because, if what Telin said was really true, the only limit to my magic was my imagination.


    Without taking the time to think, I molded the Void into a sphere set between my hands and took a deep breath to concentrate. The violent churn of shadows and air began cascading into the void within seconds. Whipping a horrendous storm up inside the cramped room until the sound started to wane and eventually rise once the plants and enchantments began billowing air into the room to compensate.


    I closed my eyes to concentrate on emptying my Well, splitting it into five streams, and guiding them through my Cores.


    The first flowed towards my void core and split once more before it cascaded into the inky black organ and flowed out either side as twin rivers of black and gray ink.


    The second stream fell into the deep purple organ to be mixed into an energy of the same archetype before it poured out to join the streams of Death and Darkness flowing down my arms.


    The third fell through my electromagnetism and split like the first. Only, the stream split thrice to create a torrent of electricity and a churning magnetic wave chugging behind a pinpoint of light.


    Through Space-Time, the fourth stream barreled straight through and emerged at the same pace as the Nuclear Arcana flowing through my arms with all the others.


    The streams churned like molasses through the paths I¡¯ve made over the last several weeks. Like a dam, building its reservoir, I affirmed and reaffirmed every intention, law, and minute detail of the spell before I poured, recharged, and channeled the entirety of my Well through my fingertips five times over.


    The result was a Void of Space and dilated Time. A pocket universe within the universe. One filled to the brim with necrotic radiation, shadows, light, and a laughably small volume of the air it stole from the training room. It was like the Shadow Realm or my Shade Pocket but also not. Those places- even my Underworld, were smaller parts of something greater. Private Domains within the Fell and the Under, given to me by my ancestry. And if my hypothesis was correct, the void was much the same. Albeit on a cosmic scale. My use of the void resulted in the expansion of the one that seemed to surround the Mortal Plane or my own in some far-off region of space. But this void was an entirely new domain. A permanent one of my creation, of my arcane sorcery. Made for me and my fiendishly necrotic denizens. Though it was far from infinite.


    It was a bubble of ¡®empty¡¯ space roughly 6,500 km in diameter. A hollow Mars that contained around 1.1 trillion cubic kilometers of foul energy and pale golden light. And that gave me problems.


    First, it was nowhere near the paradise I envisioned for my living followers. But this was just a test. An experiment to see if the spell would work. And now that I knew it did, the problem was where to put it. My experiment of absorbing the void on the first day of class resulted in no feeling or noticeable effect. That said, the energy involved was negligible. On the contrary, the dummy I destroyed during my last experiment remained in place once I assimilated with it. That said, the aforementioned experience led me to dissipate the energy as I¡¯d done throughout my childhood. Or rather, my earlier childhood.


    Regardless, that left me at square one. So all I could do was sigh, shrug off my hesitation, and convince myself I could always make another one.


    Not only that, but I poured my will into the spell to make it permanent. In my imagination, that equated to the sphere contained within my hands becoming a region of dark space and distorted time tucked away in my soul, body, and spirit. A branch of the same Void Tree sprawled across my chest. And so, I only needed to grow the branch some more. I only needed to make a path or build a road or better yet, create a wormhole to transfer anything I wanted into and out of my domain at will. So with that in mind, I reached my left hand out and filled my head with the image.


    As my hand grew closer, I felt a cold line snake down from the edge of my shoulder. Coiling, slithering, thinning out as it made its way around the joint in my elbow and down my forearm. Emerging like a thin brook of dark mist, the impossibly black tendril poured over the heel of my wrist to lick across the void before my flesh could. Like it¡¯d been baited and trapped, the tendril recoiled into my hand with almost concussive force. Pulling the void with it as it fled up my wrist, snaked around my elbow, and burrowed into my shoulder to spread its pervasive cold toxins across my chest.


    A horrendous whine pierced the air, almost announcing the last of the void cascading into me. Building up the pressure of what already was until it breached containment and shot into the sky that was my neck. The cold burrowed higher, reaching the meeting point between my jaw and ear to give me a sickening wave of vertigo before it spread to the back of my skull. Then my senses began to fade. I felt my knees buckle and the cold snapped forward accordingly, burrowing into my left eye to double my vision. And then¡­ the cold faded, releasing the mental shackles that kept me from perceiving the nostalgic sense of omnipresence felt by my body.


    But it was more than that. My flesh remained in the training room. Yet my eyes saw its forested interior overlaid with a scene that rivaled Jupiter¡¯s cloud decks. Thick bands of black and gray clouds dominated the space, churning with a primal ferocity in a perpetual effort to blot out the seafoam-green flashes of lightning and the gold, purple, and red beacons of light shining in the far distance. In astronomical terms, it was Bok Globule. In magical terms, it was a doorway built within my eye that led to a pocket universe. Which wound up having quite the adverse effect.


    Seconds, minutes, hours. I didn¡¯t know how long it took for the perspectives to separate enough for me to regain my full mental capacity. Though they never fully faded into separate things. I still saw the real world when my mind was relatively focused on something. But when my mind began to drift, when I adopted the thousand-yard stare I so frequently adopted when the cogs in my mind churned, all I saw was my domain.


    All I saw was my Twilight.

 158 - Faerie Power

    My training and experiments wound up taking far longer than I expected. Seven hours to be exact. Luckily, the Party was too absorbed in the fights to check up on me. Sadly, however, I wound up missing five fights and most of the sixth. I was still getting used to seeing double whenever my mind went blank, which happened to be surprisingly often. Due to that, I hadn¡¯t realized what time it was until I sat down to eat and saw the hulking Amazonian centered on-screen.


    I developed an interest in them after learning Grandpa Lich was half-Amazonian. While they undoubtedly had males and females, only the obvious was the distinguishing factor between the two. They had no concept of gender roles or identities, though they all had feminine natures. What was more interesting to me, however, was their culture. They didn¡¯t care for petty things like laws or manners or even nudity. Strength was revered above all else. They went so far as to build no walls or defenses in their cities and wear no armor in combat. And they were all devoted to a single cause. Naturally, my actions aligned with that cause. So that put Ale Nicchi and the other Amazonians on my priority list for recruitment.


    He was built like Hercules and strong like him too. Able to hold a proper slugfest with a Stone Golem throughout the ten minutes it took me to eat. He was still going strong when I left the cafeteria and even still upon my return to the dorms. Even while Zakira and the others caught me up on the fights I missed, Ale Nicchi threw hands with live stone.


    As for the other fights, Winston was the one to tell me that one of his vassals, Willard Rowe, happened to be the first to lose in an unremarkable fight against a Browl; accursed things. Ironically, it was the same case with the vassal of Winston¡¯s ¡®friend,¡¯ Zeke Smeal. Edgar Lope fought and nearly got calcified by a Cockatrice, only to have Winston cover for him and Willard by saying they were more of the scholarly types and thus unfit for fighting. A paltry excuse by my standard, considering we¡¯d spent the last six months training to death.


    Hogaz the half-orc wound up being an interesting fight, according to Slate and Kao at least. He fought a Mudhound Tortoise and fended it off expertly with a short sword that¡¯d been ¡®crafted by a legend,¡¯ according to Els. And his manipulation of the nearby waterweeds served as an object of fascination for everyone else. Even then, however, he was said to mostly rely on his sword and superhuman strength to break the hounds'' porcelain shell while it tried and often succeeded at lacerating his legs. Yet he still wound up taking the victory.


    After that, Zakira excitedly told me about Butuss the Lizalfolk ripping a Silverback Stone Gorilla to shreds and gorging himself on the remains, much to everyone¡¯s horror.


    ¡®Ale, Hogaz, and Butuss.¡¯ I pondered. Ale was added to GetHelp without delay. But Hogaz was a wildcard, an uncertainty in the app. His personality, goals, and ambitions were a complete unknown to me, as was most of his knowledge, other than his language and the information spawned from the place he was raised. Which gave me an idea. Or rather, it made me remember something.


    I was polylingual. English, Italian, Portuguese, French, German, Russian, Mandarin, Japanese, Arabic. All of them, essentially. Although those were the ones most commonly used in my later life, mixed into an eclectic dialect known only to the denizens of Saturnia. Now, however, English was referred to as Common, which had a noticeably high variation of dialects and accents that put it much closer to a type of underdeveloped creole. On top of that, I was taught the High-Drow dialect of Elvish, along with the Darkworld trade language: Deep Common. But Els spoke Dwarvish. Slate and Kao had their own languages. As did Duke and Twig. Most importantly, Urshure knew Draconic. Beyond that, Zohnos and his sister spoke whatever language Tritons spoke, Zarzok and Phelaia spoke Infernal, the Fire Djjini probably spoke his own language and so too did the sole halfling in attendance at the Bodhi Tree.


    I wanted to learn them all. And Orkish and Goblin and Giant and all the other languages too. Such a thing was only proper for a devil, after all. Thus, in other words, I needed to make some deals. So I sat and pondered while Ale punched and pushed and suddenly backed away from the golem to pull a pair of spiked metal gloves on before he re-engaged to pummel the construct to dust within seconds.


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    ¡°So he was just having fun.¡± I laughed. Then looked around to see many of the other screens had already switched to the perspective of an elf in a dense misty swamp. ¡®Interesting.¡¯ One match every half hour. Ten per day, with students venturing through portals to some far-off lands to fight monsters. ¡®But¡­ where?¡¯ I opened the Map in my Eternal Eye and immediately regretted not making the most out of the map found in the library. From what I could see, however, the Bodhi Peninsula was attached to Nonus by a mountain range far to the north, and essentially all the land between served as our proving grounds during our outings; a realm utterly void of any civilizations.


    The Bodhi Tree itself was at the south end of the peninsula. Centered atop a sheer cliff that stretched to the coasts at the far east and west. I¡¯d seen it many times. Every day for the last nine weeks. Crater Lake. An unmoving blue sheet that stretched to the horizon. In passing, I always assumed it to be the World Sea. But it was a lake. Crater Lake. I was aware of that the whole time. And the realization that I had remained ignorant of that fact was more painful than any wound I had ever received, both in this life and the last.


    The only way in or out of the grounds was through the Bifrost. At least that¡¯s what the Staff said. What''s more, the fact that we could spectate these matches with ease implied they were held within the Headmaster¡¯s territory. The breadth of that territory was something I elected to find out at once. The call of the library pulled and pulled at me, but my interest remained on the elf strolling through the marsh.


    Zaos Torhorn was his name. A Wood Elf from Rhar, according to his dossier. He was short and lean, standing 165 centimeters tall with brown, almost copper-hued skin, black hair, and vibrant green eyes that looked out at his surroundings with the same wonder I often had. His shoes- boots, were made of what appeared to be stitched leaves much like his clothes, flowing silently through the paddies of tall grass and mangroves until he suddenly stopped.


    He pivoted with the grace of a dancer and was found facing about in the blink of an eye, an arrow knocked, his longbow drawn to the limit of its function, and a vortex of mana swirling in front of his arrow before it was let loose in a muffled shockwave.


    Like a suppressed high-powered rifle, the arrow arced into the distance, and without hesitating, Zaos eased his body forward to enter the same vortex and strode hundreds of meters forward in an instant.


    The screens flickered and Zaos was seen knocking two more arrows into his bow while a blanket of mana formed around his chest. In the next moment, his body lurched and his feet kicked out before him as he was dragged to a halt in the face of a rickety old crone, clutching the first arrow he¡¯d loosed in her fist.


    <<Die, Hag!>>


    Like before, a vortex appeared in conjunction with Zaos¡¯ outcry, yet the so-called Juvenile Hag ducked away in an incredible display of speed and sent out a blood-curdling scream of her own.


    Zaos jumped away, covering his ears in time to protect himself from a crimson wave of mana erupting from the hag along with her humanoid skin. Then the ground below him erupted.


    He tried to pounce away but the mass of roots sprouting from the ground was faster. Like faceless snakes, they reached for and constricted around Zaos¡¯ legs. Yet Zaos remained in place. He lazily raised his shoulder as if he were putting his hand in his pocket and stopped halfway when the ambient mana responded by compressing into a shard and digging through the roots. Slowly. Steadily, before it loosed from the fibers and peeled off towards the woman-shaped pile of rotten wood and moss like a stock car.


    She slapped it away like a mosquito had been flying up to bite her, shattering the mana into countless particles of brilliant light that occluded her emaciated form on retreat. With a wave of Zohnos'' hand, the mana in front of the hag began to compress into a web of thin needles scattered across her path. She dug into the ground at once to halt herself and swiped at the shards with her claws while Zaos closed the distance, waving all the while to spawn more and more needles at her back.


    She spun, swiping again, breaking the needles into smaller shards that hung around their primaries like remora chasing their hosts for protection. Bow knocked, Zaos reacted this time by kicking off the ground to cut right and spawn a final wave of needles to surround her. And in another vortex-induced burst of speed, he achieved the flank he was aiming for and unleashed a proverbial Gatling of arrow and needle-fire into the hag.


    She fought with all her might. Swiping and ducking and spawning walls of vines to protect herself up until the moment she couldn¡¯t. The moment her strength ran out, another bloodcurdling burst of mana deflected the first wave of arrows and needles to bypass her failing guard. Then Zaos released an omnidirectional downpour of magical ordinance to rip her into an unrecoverable pile of viscera and plant matter.


    And when she was gone, he turned his aloof eyes back to the misty swamp around him and stepped away calmly.

 159 - Outsiders

    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°Amun is going to the library, Sir.¡±


    ¡°Ugh! I swear. This is gonna make me lose my appetite.¡± I threw my fork down in protest, uncaring if Titus, Emperor Morningstar, or whoever else heard me. Not that they were present in the first place.


    The Storm King, Grandmaster Mage, General- whatever title Titus Zlock chose to go by didn¡¯t change the fact that he only cared about a few things. And the students who didn''t have the potential to become a problem, walk in the Light, or become Paladins weren¡¯t among them. As things went, that was a common mindset among the Polaris Guildmasters and their subordinates. Willard Rowe and Edgar Lope were from Maru, a realm that rarely spat out those willing to walk in the light. On top of that, the former was slotted to be a Bard while the latter aimed to become an Artificer. As a result, the morning had been peaceful. Blissfully so, for the most part.


    It was a single runner. A boy of low rank, seen darting back and forth between seven of the ten alcoves placed adjacent to the Cap.


    ¡°Why do they even care?¡± I groaned around my food.


    ¡°You know why.¡± Olga quipped. ¡°This has the chance of going terribly wrong.¡±


    "Does it?" I laughed. ¡°Then why did we let the Headmaster convince us this was a good idea?¡±


    ¡°Because you and the Wooded One find yourselves unable to kick away the curiosities nipping at your heels. ¡®What is the scope of his power? What is his moral alignment?¡¯ Those are the whispers I hear from your Ki, Doyle Wolfgang. Chase those whispers, and it shall lead you to your doom.¡±


    ¡®There it is.¡¯ I pushed my plate away with a sigh. ¡®Appetite ruined.¡¯


    With my plate no longer an object of interest, I turned in my seat to peer across the Cap to the new object of conversation. Sitting at the edge of a group of ten was an elven woman with gray-violet skin and vibrant purple eyes. Her hair was the same shade as mine, but somehow richer as if it was made of actual silver. Long and flowing silver that converged into concentric onyx rings to make a ponytail that stretched the comparatively short length of her thin, ropy body. Even those who¡¯d never seen her would understand what she was at first glance. The long flowing robes of brown and green and the carved beads hanging from her neck displayed her class with more clarity than any amount of reactive mana could hope to achieve.


    ¡°Abbot Eiriol! Everyone.¡± I bowed before planting myself across from her. Then did the same to the 2nd-year Class Instructors before making a strategic halt at Zoop. ¡°How goes things in the South?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Oh, you know. Same same!¡± Zoop bounced in the same overbearing way as her father. ¡°All¡¯s the same in Bakewia, it is! Yes, it is!¡±


    ¡°Quiet as always, huh?¡± I chuckled.


    ¡°Oh, not at all!¡± Xalji hopped onto the desk to plant his gnomish fists on his hips in vengeful protest. Though his size was hardly a threat, even for Zoop. ¡°Why, The Purple Leopard got raided, it did! By Barbarians!¡± He snapped, twisting in place to aim his scowl at Urodar.


    ¡°Woah.¡± The half-orc¡¯s low drawl continued long after his massive hands lifted in surrender. ¡°Wasn¡¯t my Barbs. The Leopard¡¯s too good a spot to raid.¡±


    ¡°Well, it wasn¡¯t the Mazi Council either!¡±


    While they continued their banter, I leaned in close enough so only the Abbot could hear. And perhaps Corym and Indra. Damned elves. ¡°You mean to tell me you¡¯re not interested in the prodigal son of the House of Cole?¡±


    ¡°I am not.¡± Eiriol quickly retorted. ¡°My only curiosity lies in determining who is capable of walking the walk.¡±


    ¡°Well-¡±


    ¡°I am aware. He is one of them.¡± She sneered without so much as a budge in her eyes. ¡°And Rua Nun. And this¡­ Veil of Shadows as well. My interest lies in the unknown.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I turned away for a moment to try and catch some bait for the conversation. ¡°And how¡¯s Shujen doing?" I turned back to her, smiling. "Is your family seeing as much prosperity as in the old days?¡±


    ¡°Prosperity.¡± She huffed. ¡°Should you venture to the Falls of Zimysta you would never speak those words again, dear Doyle. But Shujen?" She huffed again. "Shujen is well. Those of Bakewia, Nevstan, and Knighilia still test their wares in the lands above. And yet still, it thrives, for it seems we are the only lands to do not allow the surface dwellers to drain our resources dry.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s untrue and you know it!¡± The wood elf siblings spouted at the same time, exchanged glances, and then offered the floor to the other in the same way they¡¯d done a thousand times before. Or perhaps ten thousand. They were old.


    ¡°Or, is Redagh''s existence insignificant to you as well?¡± Indra, the sister, huffed.


    ¡°Perhaps if you were not so fearful of the sun you would not be so bleak in the face and ignorant of the other kingdoms. Rhar is-¡±


    ¡°No one cares about Rhar!¡± Naki¡¯s fist nearly upended the table as it bounced up and down in tune with her boisterous laughs. ¡°Three years! Three fuckin'' years and your we little rangers have yet to make it to Isik¡¯iertu! It''s almost like they''re scared.¡±


    ¡°Ah! That takes me back!¡± I rocked back in remembrance of the tepid waters and supple mounds of flesh that made the hot springs famous.


    ¡°You are deflecting, Wolfgang. Now, pray tell why you approached me in the first place.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± I turned back to the Abbot with a long sigh. ¡°What did you mean, my doom?¡±


    ¡°Hmph.¡±She snorted in an all too familiar way. ¡®Humans,¡¯ it meant. And yet her visage and words proved otherwise to those unfamiliar with her ways. ¡°You are unaware of it- for now, that is- that your obsession with him stems from your fear of him. I have seen it countless times, Doyle Wolfgang, so I know. Many of you fear him already.¡±


    She leaned closer and a subtle smirk peeled in the furthest corner of her lips while she peered into my entire being with those ancient eyes. ¡°I can sense it in your actions,¡± she droned. ¡°All of you. You give him what you think he needs in the hopes that he does not take what he wants. You have enslaved yourselves to curiosity by pushing him to bear his true nature and worse, you justify the actions you are apprehensive to take on account of outdated traditions.


    ¡°But, what of the pretentious ones?¡± She pointed, smiling, towards the little runner watching us from the corner of his eye. ¡°When they see him bend the creature to his will or destroy it without much effort, what of them when the Champion¡¯s roar reaches their ears? Will they be awed, Wolfgang?¡± She cocked her head and smiled. ¡°Will they be proud? Hopeful?" She leaned forward, squinting daggers into my soul. "If I know you humans- if I know them.¡± Her eyes flicked to the runner. ¡°Their fear will make an enemy where there is not. What then?¡±


    ¡°I hate to admit it.¡± Corym, the brother, sighed. ¡°But her words hold weight. We elves see dragons differently than you all. They are indomitable to you. Yet they, giants, and demons are equals in power to us. A dragon on the precipice of being a Wrymling is not an impossible task for an infantile elf of a royal station. Half-breed or not. Amun¡¯s victory is all but assured. Thus your concern should lie with the consequences of his victory.¡± He flicked his forest green eyes, not towards the runners, but towards the stairs. Or possibly somewhere far beyond.


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    ¡°What you are playing with is worse than fire,¡± Indra said this time. ¡°It is worse than death. Alone, the void is both the most atrocious and miraculous power in existence. But it is never alone. It is always accompanied by death and darkness. That is how it has always been. But now, four arcane affinities can be mixed into it. And the Headmaster is trying his best to see it unleashed upon the realms.¡±


    ¡°Then what would you have me do?¡± I splayed my hands. ¡°Better yet, enlighten my ignorant mind on what I¡¯m dealing with.¡±


    There was a brief look exchanged between the three of them. A glance quick enough to have hardly been noticed. But noticeable all the same.


    ¡°What do you know of the House of Cole?¡± Indra asked.


    ¡°The same as everyone else.¡± I shrugged. ¡°They¡¯re Sorcerers with ties to the Plane of Shadow and the Underworld. People call them devils. They have immortal undead. They''re insanely powerful. That¡¯s about it.¡±


    ¡°They are devils.¡± Indra coldly spat. ¡°Devils in human form. How many of them have you met?¡±


    ¡°Uh?¡± I paused, scratched my head, and chuckled nervously. ¡°Two.¡±


    ¡°Amun will be the sixth child of darkness to befall our eyes,¡± Eiriol said with a curious glance at the other elves. It was almost¡­ melancholic. ¡°We met his father, Emeric Cole, some fifty-seven years ago during his stay at the academy. He destabilized the entirety of Brybs County without taking any action himself, and it remains in such a state to this day. We only know this because the Necro King bragged about it to the Wooded One decades after the fact. That is how great of a Mastermind he is.¡±


    ¡°I taught Emeric¡¯s father how to be a Ranger,¡± Corym said, giving me no pause between dialogs. ¡°Like all of them, Azrael Cole obtained a Prestige Class, the Shadow Beast Handler. Or.¡± He paused, grimacing to himself. ¡°More aptly, the Shadow Beast Maker. Any creature on which his eyes fell was turned into a shadow beast. That was a century and three decades ago. Yet his creations are still at large today.¡±


    ¡°Four centuries and some seven decades ago, just eighteen years after the breach to our home closed, we met the Necro King,¡± Eiriol said. ¡°Back then, he was Everandus Cole, the Lich Lord. An extraordinarily cunning devil with a deceivingly brutish appearance, armed with an army of immortal undead that warred with the living in Ligin throughout his time here. And then he became a Paladin. One that rarely needed to smite another because he was also a barbarian.¡±


    ¡°But even he was not the worst plague.¡± Indra shuddered. ¡°You have heard of the Raven Reaper, yes?¡±


    ¡°In horror stories.¡± I begrudgingly nodded. ¡°She¡¯s the reason why crows and ravens are seen as ill omens.¡±


    ¡°One of the reasons.¡± Eiriol corrected.


    ¡°We knew her by Corvus Cole. Shadow Necromancer, Dhampir, and Druid.¡± Indra shuddered again with an almost imperceptible gag. ¡°Imagine a Druid talking to dead plants and animals. And she was a Cleric of Grimm on top of that. A Reaper, for Grimm.¡±


    ¡°The Raven Reaper.¡± I shook my head with a dry laugh. ¡°It all makes sense now.¡±


    Even she was not the worst, dear Doyle Wolfgang,¡± Eiriol explained with no mind paid to my ignorance. ¡°The worst of them afflicted our lands and people with accursed darkness after doing the very same across the Northern Wilds. He scarred and cursed the Headmaster and formed Crater Lake with a single spell.¡± She leaned closer, smiling from some strange cruel pleasure while she whispered. ¡°We met him in the year four ninety-two. Nine hundred ninety-nine years ago. He was in the Bodhi Tree''s first class. Cole Nox. A half-high elf Monk who followed the Way of Void. Amun is just as much of a terror as he. Albeit with four other arcane affinities.


    ¡°So, are you enlightened now, dear Doyle Wolfgang?¡± She leaned back with a satisfied smile. ¡°You are excited for what the Devil may show you. We are concerned with what he may be.¡±


    ¡°Eiriol!¡±


    ¡°What he may be?¡± I shook my head with no mind paid to Corym. ¡°You mean his class?¡±


    ¡°Change is coming, Doyle Wolfgang. If you want that change to be positive, I suggest you convince the Wooded One to reconsider provoking the so-called Elven Devil. If not, convince the pompous ones to not smite whatever they deem a threat. Because they may soon find a new enemy out to smite them first.¡±


    ¡°Eiriol!¡± Corym said in that same strange tone. Almost like a warning. But it was soon lost behind the ramblings of their native language.


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ elves think they know everything.¡± Naki spat through her tusks, but their conversation continued unpaused. ¡°I, for one, can¡¯t wait to see the little tyke go up against a red draggy! They''re even the same age! It¡¯ll be a fight for the ages!¡±


    ¡®Yeah. Assuming he fights at all.¡¯


    ¡°Let¡¯s just hope the Scourge doesn¡¯t wake up. Or worse, that she doesn¡¯t destroy the mountain.¡± Urodar slowly chuckled. ¡°That would be bad.


    "Really, really bad."


    ***


    Abbot Eiriol.


    ***


    <<Look at him.>> I sneered. <<He has not even begun to ponder my words. In one ear and out the other, as they love saying.>>


    The exchange was like a pop-dog disappearing the moment one stopped petting it. Urodar¡¯s damper on the mood pushed Wolfgang into an attempt to lighten the mood byways of a guessing game. And of course, the simple-minded ones were more invested than the Marulean species. Save the depressive Wizard, as usual.


    While I cared not for such activities, I found myself keeping a close eye out for anyone capable of walking the walk. One Thordrohilda Diamondblade was not among them. She battled with tools, potions, and cunning like an Artificer would to fell a giant stone tortoise. As already surmised, Veil of Shadows was certainly expected at the monastery next year. Felipians made exceptionally good Monks, as did Drow. And while Amun¡¯s Way was uncertain, I was all but convinced of Veil of Shadow following the Way of Open Palm like so many others of his kind.


    <<You said too much.>>


    Hardly giving them the satisfaction of a change in expression, I turned to face the whiny twins to give them a moment of study.


    They were like all wood elves. Lustrous hair. Vibrant eyes and brown skin that shone like copper. They had tattoos denoting them as elders strewn across their faces, still as vibrant as their eyes and midnight black hair. But their age was beginning to show. I could see it in the way they moved. The brittleness was getting to them. And to me as well. But where my Ki kept me feeling young, their Perks steadily changed them. Or did not at all, in Corym¡¯s case. Indra, however, was beginning to grow molds, fungi, and strips of bark like all Druids at the end of their paths.


    Such a terrible fate, if not a fitting one for those so devoted to their precious forests.


    <<The time for secrecy is behind us,>> I said. Then paused once the Pompous ones filed in to observe the final fight of the day.


    The most bashful and arrogant and proud one of them all flopped himself into his seat with a crude fart through the mouth and threw his arm to the nearest screen, shouting. ¡°Doyle! Tell us of this one.¡±


    Wolfgang, accomplished and aged as any remarkable human could have been, was still spineless in the face of the man. He answered with a delay only to express his indignation through a tut of the lips before responding as requested. ¡°Ash is a Fire Djinni,¡± he needlessly explained. ¡°He, like a few other students, has rarely showcased his power or even conversed much with his peers.¡±


    <<So he knows nothing.>> I tittered. <<I cannot say I am surprised. Nor will I be surprised about the outcome of this creature stepping up to an iron golem.>>


    ¡°Do you wish to say something, Abbot Eiriol?¡±


    ¡°If my words were meant for your ears, Titus, you would have heard them in this crude excuse of a language you call Common.¡±


    More so than he would have on any other occasion, Zlock sneered and scowled like a child beneath the cowl of his superiors. And I relished it. I fantasized about the fast-approaching time of reckoning, for I was so very tired. I was tired of the self-righteous keeping chaos from the realms. I was tired of the unending light. I was tired of waiting. After centuries and centuries and centuries of waiting, I was so very tired.


    Too tired to wait six months more.


    Too tired to feign interest in watching this creature of the Fire Plane demonstrate insanity by pouring flames into an iron golem until the construct knocked him out cold.


    I only wanted Telin¡¯s Champion to bring his long-awaited change to the realms. However admirable or abhorrent it would be, I would welcome it wholly, for I was sick of waiting.


    ¡°A one-trick pony.¡± Titus harrumphed in disappointment.


    ¡°For some ponies, one trick is all they need.¡±


    He heard me. I knew he did. The rest of Polaris'' worms did too. And they knew it was true, especially the brightest light of them all.


    <<I don¡¯t remember your tongue being so loose.>>


    <<I will not repeat myself, leaf licker. >> I sneered at Corym without so much as an exhaled breath in his direction. <<You all received the same message as I. The year''s end will be both nine-nine-nine and fourteen-ninety-two.>>


    <<I remember.>> Corym sighed with impatience. <<So, you believe Amun to be the Champion?>>


    <<He and Zaos are the only elves present in Class 999. They will begin their evolutions come the beginning of next year, fourteen ninety-two. Not to mention Cole. These are not coincidences.>>


    <<And what makes you think the Champion is even an elf?>> Asked Indra.


    <<Because why would the Champion not be?>>

 160 - Tag

    ¡®I never liked it.


    The fight.


    From the beginning, he knew it.


    He knew I hated it. And he knew, avoiding it was never an option.


    ¡®Reality is cruel. Life is hard.¡¯


    Those were his words.


    ¡®But how would he know? He¡¯s hardly older than I am.¡¯


    Those were my thoughts at the time.


    Our relationship- lord and vassal, was a strange one. He never forced me- us, to do anything.


    Except for two things.


    The first was to grow strong enough to protect ourselves. Because no matter how strong he was, he could never protect everyone.


    The second was to create a box in our minds. A chest- or rather, a switch for our emotions. For our morals. For our self-righteousness. For our egos.


    The second was to find a way to turn off everything until all that remained was our loyalty to him and an indomitable will to survive.


    To fight.


    I never resented him for it. I only resented the switch. Illogically so.


    ¡®To serve a devil, you must become one.¡¯


    Those were the words we heard before our lives changed forever. But¡­ it never happened.


    We never became devils. Fully at least. Instead, we walked in the light. We toed the line between day and night, light and darkness, underworlder and celestial.


    But the switch remained.


    Because the only way to change a cruel world was to become cruel yourself.


    The switch remained.


    Because it had to.


    Up until the moment it didn¡¯t.¡¯


    Core¡¯s Record. Ch 17: Spiritual Tag.


    ***


    ¡®Jaimess A. Corey, you are to enter your dormitory portal at the seventh hour of the morning to encounter a creature chosen by the Bodhi Tree Staff, Class Instructors, and members of the Optimus Regni to test your abilities. Your task is to kill or otherwise incapacitate this creature. Failure to do so will result in a deduction of 300 points.


    ¡®Good luck. Bodhi Tree Headmaster, Zorrenor Knagh¡¯


    ¡°So I¡¯m being hunted. Just like old times.¡± Chuckling lightly, I attempted to fold the leaf in storage and wound up crumpling it to dust.


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    Ignoring it entirely, I reached into my side pouch to withdraw a vial from my ruck and upended the dull blue syrup into my mouth. Then stepped through the portal without delay.


    A wondrous jungle spread before my eyes just as the potion kicked in and at long last, I felt it. I was¡­ high. Both figuratively and metaphorically. My body was in an environment in which it had never been before. The air was a bluish-gray like dirty glacial ice that had frozen around craggy rock faces and pine tree clusters that seemed to grow wherever they could find purchase. But my mind. My mind could feel the subtle pushes and pulls on the mana around me. Within me.


    In the leaves, the grasses, and the trees, I felt it. Glowing like embers buried in ash. Glowing embers spread far to the horizon. I felt it in the birds, in the reptiles and mammals scurrying about as I wandered in waiting to be ambushed. But¡­ stronger than anything else was a¡­ a warmth. A gentle heat that almost hummed the air itself like a minstrel plucking a harpsichord. Almost like a¡­ call. It pulled at me. And I let myself be pulled. I felt the absent dryness clinging to my back while the wet air slapped at my front and I answered. Still wary of my task, but eager to feel the warmth in its entirety. Indifferent as to what I was to fight, but excited as to what I was about to meet.


    Before I knew it, I felt myself smiling. I felt like the air around me, flowing and free while another part of me skipped up the rocks.


    Then I stopped.


    Up here, the mist was thicker than anywhere else. I couldn¡¯t see beyond a 10-meter-wide ring of mosaic stone tiles. But the sights couldn¡¯t have been better. The feeling couldn¡¯t have been greater. The warmth couldn¡¯t have been stronger.


    Or... warmths.


    They came in three. Round and oblong spheres, like burnt-red teardrops placed on their sides to make stiff tails and round faces dotted with five holes. Two for the wings, plumed red, gold, and white. Two for the eyes, hollow black holes filled with an ethereal white point. And one for a human mouth, smiling, laughing, or yipping excitedly as they bobbed and weaved under each other. And not to forget the elongated, bulbous noses.


    Their warmth blossomed and so too did mine. Without thinking, I shouted. And to my surprise, the same word came racing back into my thoughts a moment later.


    ¡®Play!¡¯


    I reached out, and so too did they. Weaving with incredible speed around my arm to playfully headbutt me in the chest and force me back a step.


    ¡°Oh!¡± I laughed. ¡°Tag it is!¡± I reached out again, attempting to tag the grapefruit with wings back, only for another to headbutt my shoulder from the side. I stumbled again, then stumbled forward once more after the third pelted the back of my head.


    With so much warmth around me, my own warmth bloomed. The world blurred. And then I found myself retracting my hands from their shocked faces. The game was now even, and they reacted accordingly. Whizzing around and through the trees frozen in the ice and themselves in order to poke at and jab my sides. But I was unyielding as well. The heat allowed me to do nothing less, for it was everywhere now. Burning like the sun as if it were desperate to give me energy where there was none. And when it bloomed hotter, so too did mine.


    I was unaware of how much time I spent reaching. Running. Laughing. Playing. In time, I even forgot the reason I found myself in such a wonderful place. Or, perhaps I forgot the moment I arrived. But how could I have not? Remembering such a task while chasing such wonderful creatures through such a wonderful place was impossible. We skimmed vast lakes, weaving across the surface like Jonet would in the old days to evade the headbutts and hands of each other. Chasing one another, we scaled the realm until the unforgettable sight of endless blue filled our eyes. Then, we dove and weaved and fell until all we saw around us was brown and blue and green. And through it all, the heat remained. Burning and radiant and blinding like a furnace in my heart. In our hearts- theirs and mine. Building and rising and growing in tune with our unbounded glee.


    We tagged and tagged back for an indiscriminate length of time until, like all things, the warmth started to fade- both mine and theirs. First into a depressing cold. Then into a dreary darkness. But that was fine. The game was still even. And I had long since grown comfortable with the darkness.


    Due to that and perhaps that alone, I still felt it through the darkness. Or rather, I felt them. The pockets of warmth. One above. One in front. And one below. I could feel them heating up ever so slowly.


    I could feel their words- their laughs, resonating with mine. And I couldn''t help but feel utter giddiness.


    ¡°Heh. That was fun.¡±

 161 - Friends In Low Places

    ''I had always liked potions.


    Not in the way that a wizard loves books. But like a drunk loved spirits.


    I. Liked. Potions.


    It started when I was young. Very young. I had a minor injury, a fracture in my leg while at Corvus Academy. It was my first experience with a healing potion. The¡­ rush. The warmth.


    It changed my life forever.


    I experimented with them whenever I had the opportunity. Stone Skin. Fish Gills. Smoke Sight. Anything I could find. But none compared to the simplest one of all. Or, not simple. But rather¡­ unlikely.


    Mana Sensitivity.


    On that day, when I forcefully expanded my Mana Well, I felt it for the first time.


    Life.


    From the plants. The trees. From my peers and myself. I felt it. Even through the coldest darkness to exist in these realms, I felt it.


    Life.


    There were few things I¡¯ve ever yearned for as much as I have for that feeling.''


    Core¡¯s Record. Ch 4.


    ***


    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°Jaimess is another Marulean student of the scholarly archetype. He¡¯s rarely had hostile encounters in the Wilds. Not because he is incapable, however. Quite the contrary. Jaimess has proven to have expert control of his affinities, Paper, Carbon, Silicon, and Obsidian. While primarily defensive by nature, Jaimess has shown to adapt his spells to many a situation. However, we have yet to see the full extent of his offensive capabilities.¡±


    ¡°Hopefully, we can be impressed today. Thank you, Sir Yurich.¡±


    Yes, thank you, Zeff. Because I couldn¡¯t deal with this shit anymore. Abbot Eiriol¡¯s words were eating me alive. Titus¡¯ overbearing nature was getting to my last nerve. And for some reason, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something was going to happen. Not something bad necessarily, but something unexpected. Which very well may have been worse.


    Much, much worse.


    It went without saying that Jaimess was Amun''s vassal. He was from Maru. From Odissi. He was one of the few with four affinity cores and utter mastery over the elements. And he was one of even fewer who had the experience of a graduate. I saw it frequently over the past six months. Not as much as I saw it in Copper Party, but it was there. It lay in his inability to underestimate his opponent. To get his encounters over with as quickly as possible like Toril, but unlike the one they called master.


    He was amiably aloof like Amun too. He stood in light armor that appeared almost like a scaffold across his body, covering his chest and back with a pentagonal plate of black and tan. Thin splints of metal covered his arms and while he had a registered helmet, it was nowhere to be found, granting us a clear view of the amused grin slowly peeling across his face as he read his orders.


    ¡°So I¡¯m being hunted. Just like old times.¡±


    And that confirmed it. For me at least. A few others too. But most of them expressed sheer confusion before it evolved into utter shock.


    With levels of grace that came from years of practice, Jaimess reached behind his back to pull a dull blue potion from his pack and chugged the contents in one swift motion. Then stepped off into the portal without delay. With a single step, he was transported an impossible distance across the growth. Through the woodwork and out the other side, he emerged at the base of the Ligin Mountains some 130 kilometers away from the small hamlet of Ullortheas, with a wide, stony smile spread across his face.


    ¡°That was a mana sensitivity potion, was it not? Why so much?¡±


    Rather than Titus, it was Mrs. Green who asked. And not to me, but to both Corym and Indra, for she knew Abbot Eiriol would do nothing but laugh in her face. And still, Abbot Eiriol laughed in the same demeaning way she¡¯d done since I was a student at the Bodhi Tree. Not just the fact that Mrs. Green had asked, but because the wood elves refused to even exchange glances with The Cowl¡¯s Head Alchemist.


    Fucking elves.


    They knew something interesting was bound to happen. Even Abbot Eiriol stopped her giggling and focused once Jaimess got his bearings and seemed to lock onto something. His arms were draped to his sides. His mouth slacked open. All his focus was trained on some ambiguous point high atop the mountain. And then, chaos.


    The wind fluttered with a mad rage, picking up black and white dust and stones and countless shards of paper that swept around Jaimess'' body until it died down to nothing. To an empty forest with no Jaimess in sight.


    From black to a blur of tan and green, the perspective switched and switched again as it struggled to keep up with Jaimess¡¯ blinding ascension.


    ¡°Somethings wrong.¡±


    I heard my words echo back to me moments after they¡¯d left my mouth, and hardly. They¡¯d been drowned out by the cacophony of similar remarks, some stating the obvious and others not. And throughout it all, Abbot Eiriol sat back and watched with unbridled levity.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°He was slated to fight a Griffon. But¡­ where in all the realms is he going?¡±


    That was the question of the hour, and no one who seemed to have an answer was willing to give it. We could only watch the screens flicker with constant motion, struggling as they bounded higher and higher to eventually halt at the edge of a stone platform atop one of a dozen summits.


    ¡°That¡¯s-


    The shock was the first of many to echo and be cut off when Jaimess landed. Only to resume their thoughts moments later.


    "Impossible!¡±


    There it was. And there it began. The remarks, clauses, and justifications everyone conceived in order to make sense of the inconceivable unfolding before our eyes. Centered on our screens, scattered across the dais on which the scrying eye was focused were four beings. Three stood in a line before Jaimess. Humanoid in size and appearance, with somewhat loose-fitting robes pigmented with gold and red dyes. The skin on their hands and faces was red, almost like a demon''s, but with a white and red texture that appeared to be a mix of fur and feathers. Great wings sprouted from their backs, stretching two meters across and flapping like great fans to levitate their bodies above the platform. However, the most prominent feature of all was their faces. Turned and twisted into angry scowls with dark red skin and elongated noses pointed right at Jaimess.


    ¡°Tengu!¡±


    I¡¯d never seen one before. Much less three. I was, however, sure that many of the more accomplished people here had. Which made their reactions to Jaimess all the more interesting. They sat at the edges of their seats, dumbfounded while Jaimess still had that same dumb smile on his face. Like he¡¯d spent the last few hours around a burnbud bonfire and emerged to see the realm for the first time, he stared wide-mouthed at the Tengu while the magic around him shifted. And then I noticed it.


    Stretching two meters across Jaimess'' back was a pair of angelic wings, black and grainy as if they were made from powder. The same material stretched across his entire body like a second skin, and as he stared, it warped and shifted into somewhat loose-fitting robes and a wrinkled scowl that featured an elongated nose. Seeing their likeness prompted the Tengu to assume the same low fighting stance and the chaos inside the room peaked. But a single voice brought it down to silence at once.


    ¡°What we are witnessing is a miracle. They approached him for a reason. To play. And Jaimess looks like he¡¯s game.¡±


    No one turned to face Headmaster Knagh. No one could. We could only come to terms and agree with what was said. Up until the moment we couldn¡¯t.


    It came in a blur of motion that was too fast for me to perceive. I only registered a shift in the four figures before the perspective backed away from a shockwave to show something rocketing away from the summit like cannon fire. It trailed silently for seconds before a great rattle shook the frame. Then Jaimess was seen rocketing back into view, his hand outstretched before him until another blur came. The screen shifted again to show him impacting a nearby slope with enough force to topple trees and boulders from the face of the mountain. But his paper, his obsidian, and his silicon and carbon- whatever those even were- kept him unscathed.


    He flew forth again, reaching out in an attempt to close the distance while the third Tengu was seen in the background, whistling through the air as it raced around to deliver an air-shattering kick to the back of Jaimess¡¯ head.


    ¡°Do not intervene unless he is about to die. Their play shall not be disturbed for any less reason.¡±


    The Headmaster¡¯s voice was cold and absolute. But I knew he was one of the most knowledgeable about such things among us. He and possibly the wood elf twins. And the three of them were utterly enamored with what they were seeing. But¡­ still. ¡°You can hardly call this playing.¡±


    The three hits Jaimess took sent him flying to dislodge ancient rock and ice from three separate mountains. And each time Jaimess returned at a greater speed than he¡¯d left. This time, the Tengu remained clumped together, their fists and legs raised in an obvious effort for a simultaneous attack but Jaimess flew forward with the same glee he¡¯d had since he stepped through the portal. Just as they swung, Jaimess¡¯ wings flexed and his body spun with unnatural force. His arms and legs flung out with wild abandon a moment later, weaving through the Tengu¡¯s attacks to slam into their torsos and heads with just as much force as they¡¯d given him.


    The Tengu recovered and scattered in the wake of Jaimess¡¯ attack and the lad followed. Together, they covered hundreds of meters in moments, weaving through and between the trees and each other in a deadly ¡®game¡¯ of tag.


    Suddenly, Jaimess soared from beneath an overhang and swooped down the face like a falcon, weaving between the trees to evade a Tengu on his tail when another came from his flank to slam the heel of its palm above Jaimess¡¯ ear. With a¡­ laugh, he recoiled, twisting the atmosphere with his wings and air manipulation to create a vortex that induced him into a front flip, spinning his heel around to dig into the Tengu¡¯s ribs before they were forced apart by the impact. And still, he recovered in midair to arc and cut through the skies, taking and giving blow after blow until their playful battle culminated in an explosion of felled rock and dust at the base of the mountain.


    A sudden flash blinded me and the next thing I knew, I was teetering off the edge of a cliff next to Olga, Zeff, and Felicity Licht.


    ¡°He¡¯s not here. Fan out!¡± Felicity disappeared with a wave of her hand and a flash of light. Leaving the rest of us to gawk in amazement at the upturned environment.


    ¡°To think someone as quiet and unassuming as Jaimess could do this.¡± I wryly chuckled. It looked like a natural disaster befell the place. Though, in a sense, that was exactly what happened. Even now, rock slides were making their way to the base. Carrying tons and uncountable tons of rock, dirt, and trees to form a new spur on the mountainside.


    ¡°It¡¯s like they say.¡± Olga chuckled this time. ¡°It¡¯s always the quiet ones.¡±


    ¡°I found him!¡±


    Felicity¡¯s voice spread through the air like light from the sun. It was overbearing for a moment, consuming my entire mind before it cleared to reveal a platform of mosaic stone tiles placed high atop a mountain summit.


    Under normal circumstances, non-consensual teleportation was an object of ire for me. I hated everything about the experience and knowing made it a little less bad. But now, such ire was replaced by sheer awe. Awe, which led to curiosity, which- according to Abbot Eiriol, led to fear. I could feel it germinating within me. I could see it sprouting in Felicity. In all of us. We were afraid to move. Afraid to act. All because we were faced with the unknown.


    It was simultaneously the most amazing and terrifying thing we could have seen. A trio of small creatures. Teardrops with wings, long noses, and humanoid mouths curled up into the same dumb, amiable smile Jaimess was still wearing as he hung by his fist, caught in the branches of a tree. One of them sat atop Jaimess¡¯ head, its eyes closed and its body rattling as it purred softly with breaths synchronized between the four. Another sat in the crook of his neck, the feathers in its wings fluffed and wrapped around Jaimess¡¯ neck like a scarf as if it were hugging him. The last was snuggled under Jaimess¡¯ arm, snoring loudly with no pause other than the times it tried to bury itself deeper in Jaimess'' embrace. And each time, he subconsciously returned the gesture.


    Like parents who found their child playing with monsters, all we could do was watch and wait and occasionally make comments about the obvious until we got a chance to rescue the child from the monster. Only, we could not.


    ¡°Like a boy and his three dogs.¡± Olga shook her head in disbelief. Because honestly, it was unbelievable. ¡°They¡¯re napping!¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I cackled weakly. ¡°A boy and his three heavenly dogs.¡±


    ¡°D- did he, tame¡­ Tengu?¡±


    ¡°I think befriend would be the appropriate word.¡± Felicity airily laughed. ¡°I mean- they¡¯re¡­ they''re healing him.¡±

 162 - Lurking Darkness

    Titus ''Storm King'' Zlock.


    ***


    Nothing about this was right. Nothing about this was good. Everything about it was strange. Too strange to be a mere coincidence. And I seemed to be the only one to see it.


    Roheisa Deapou. Rua Nun. Opal of the Blackblood. Teofila Traversini. Toril O¡¯Connell. Lucia Pike. Zarzok. Phelaia. Ale Nicchi. Zaos Torhorn. Ash. Eleven out of twenty students- more than half of a single party were capable of contending with Polaris¡¯ rookies and not a single one was a prospect to walk in the Light. Nor were any of the remaining nine.


    Twenty students. Twenty missed chances.


    After the show we were just given, I was certain of us missing an additional nineteen chances come the end of tomorrow. Twenty more would come in the following days. In the end, we would be left with only one.


    One out of fifty-five students.


    One who would walk in the light. Only because he was born in it.


    The turnover rate was laughable. Polaris was laughable in the eyes of others because of it. There was a time not too long ago when the mere word struck fear into the hearts of vagrants and birthed hope into the minds of the just. But as of late, the degenerates are too often seen jesting and rolling their eyes when they hear of the light, and those already walking in its embrace shun or ostracize or blaspheme against the very brightness devoted to protecting them; those that did neither seemed to strive towards vehemently refusing its embrace at every opportunity. While vexing, such an unfortunate reality had been just that for decades before my birth, an unfortunate reality. That was not the cause of my unease.


    My unease came from Maru. More precisely, Maruleans. All of them had shown an inexplicable increase in power and ability when compared to the previous years, even the ones not native to Deapou Island. Additionally, those who weren¡¯t from Maru showed considerable interest in exploring the realm post-graduation. The reasoning was obvious. Even I didn¡¯t need an intelligence report to tell me of Amun¡¯s intention to create a guild, nor did I need one to assume that the majority of Class 999 would be joining it in a few years'' time. Intelligence was only needed to determine what the purpose of his guild would be.


    That purpose only served to strengthen my unease.


    He wanted to do what Emperor Morningstar and the Necro King had done. To claim a Tree of Life for his realm, and then explore the others while spreading terror in his wake. As great as his progenitor was, the Necro King was not without evil. His evil was simply overlooked because of the knowledge he shared with the realms. Amun would be the same case, I was sure. Perhaps even worse. And now, the Headmaster was handing the boy a venerable red wyrmling on a silver platter. Ingenious, but dangerous. A surefire way to get rid of the beast and a possible method to create a more troublesome monster than we started with.


    My gut told me it was both. I had a feeling that one day, be it ten or twenty or even a hundred years from now; one day, we of Polaris would rue the day we allowed Zorrenor Knagh to convince us of this plan. A few outside of Polaris knew it. A few of the Instructors knew it also. Corym and Indra and the under-elf, for sure. Elves knew every-fucking-thing, even when the Mortal Plane would end. They just kept the secrets to themselves.


    An old saying. But a true one nonetheless.


    Doyle knew it too. He was sick in the face. Avoiding eye contact with any and everyone in the room. And quiet. Unenthusiastic in bragging about his students as usual. He knew something. Or he at least suspected something. And that was worth its weight in gold. We would have a talk later. But now, my priority lay in assessing one of the young knights I was to teach in just a few months'' time.


    Issac Galliard was his name. A knight to the young Prince Winston Epeth. He was a well-built one. Like Toril, but taller. Broader. Born with Shield and given Beam Magic, he was one of the lucky few to have such a balanced repertoire from the start. And he had guts. He needed work of course, but work could always be given. It was guts and resolve that made us Paladins what we were. Issac Galliard had them in excess.


    From what I¡¯ve seen thus far, Vlorlyn Lagunath and Corundum had them as well, but they both lacked what it took to Smite. They were more likely to be rangers and barbarians respectively. Both were occupations far beneath mine in stature, so it was time to move.


    With a nod, I dismissed myself from our circle and gave a subtle motion to Doyle on my way over to the other Instructors. His weariness was palpable. So much that he gave no grimaces or groans while following me to the Fae.


    ¡°Corym, Indra. Eiriol.¡± I forced myself to bow during the last part. ¡°A moment of your time, please?¡±


    As expected, the wood elves exchanged a look of curiosity. But the under-elf. The Drow mutely snickered and sneered throughout her rise from the table and our departure from the Cap. So high and mighty, she was, she refused to even touch her feet upon the ground, deciding instead to levitate and float wherever she moved. A fine decision by me, lest she tainted something.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°You seem anxious, Zlock.¡± She finally, mockingly said. ¡°A rare sight for someone of your¡­¡± she inhaled sharply. ¡°Prominence.¡±


    ¡°Admittedly, you are correct.¡± I took a sigh to calm myself. ¡°I fear for the after of this event.¡±


    ¡°As do we all.¡± Doyle wearily shook his head, a maddened expression strewn about his face.


    A sad sight, truly. But I eased forward regardless, seizing hold of his weakened mind by way of a single step. ¡°Perhaps I am missing something.¡± I glared at the elves. ¡°You seemed eager just a few days ago.¡±


    ¡°Zeff was the eager one.¡± He phlegmatically laughed. ¡°He¡¯s been on board since the Headmaster first told us. But I¡¯ll admit it.¡± He paused to give a deflated shrug. ¡°I was intrigued enough to not say anything. At first. Now, I¡¯m just¡­ concerned.¡±


    ¡°Either Amun will kill the dragon or he will not. Either way, it could prove a problem. If he chooses to disregard the materials a-¡±


    ¡°He won''t.¡± Doyle chuckled wryly, cutting me off. ¡°He¡¯s shown too much interest in them to just outright kill it. He- he told me if he were to ever meet one, he¡¯d try talking to it.¡±


    ¡°Kill first, ask questions later, is a viable strategy for a necromancer.¡± Eiriol heckled again. ¡°The grave has been dug either way. The Necro King¡¯s ire has been stoked by the Wooded One pitting his great-grandchild against the same kind of beast that devoured his son. It is but a matter of time until he learns. In the meanwhile, the great-grandchild with either talk with the beast and let it go, kill it, or enslave it.


    ¡°But what will you do in either case?¡± Her smile was more cunning than that of any devil I had ever faced. There was a primal joy in her seeing us stressed.


    There would be a time when I could smite those like her freely. And that time would soon come. That, I swore. For now, however¡­ ¡°I will speak with the Headmaster. Convince him to reconsider. Or, at best, to allow Lance to fight the beast instead.¡±


    ¡°Bah!¡± Eiriol boisterously laughed as if she¡¯d been waiting for this moment. ¡°Your prodigious Candle Boy is far too weak.¡±


    ¡°I beg your pardon!?¡± I turned, sighing through my teeth.


    ¡°And pardoned you are!¡± She snorted without hesitation. ¡°Even light fades with distance, dear Titus, and Polaris has stretched its Light thin, has it not? I suppose that is to say your coveted light is no longer the power it once was. The irony is like wine to my lips.¡± She paused to give me a demeaning smirk. ¡°The light is so focused on keeping the traditions of old that it has been blinded to the coming tide.¡±


    ¡°Eiriol!¡± Corym sneered before I could, and he did so with an intensity that almost churned like a raging tempest.


    Curious.


    The Abbot, however, ignored him entirely. She only kept smiling at me while her head lazily shook from side to side. ¡°I will not help you in this request, Titus Zlock. I will not help your pretentious self-righteous masters in Polaris. I will not help the Wooded One. My task is to teach without bias and watch what becomes of the realms.¡±


    ¡°Your task, eh?¡± I stepped towards her. ¡°Given to you by whom? Your Demon Spider?"


    ¡°Your mind is without wisdom, yes, but are your eyes without color?¡± She spat. But she was right. The violet jewels of her eyes were a sign of her lack of devotion to that foul deity. However.


    ¡°Then-¡±


    ¡°You will learn in due time.¡± She knowingly grinned with unbridled smugness. ¡°Now, scurry along, child. Get as much work done as you can before nightfall. We know you humans have hard times traversing the night. So afraid of the dark, you creatures can be.¡±


    For a moment, my mind went blank. My sense of time lapsed and returned to deliver me centimeters away from Eiriol¡¯s brow, sneering through my teeth. ¡°I will see to it that you are destroyed before I meet my end.¡±


    I turned about and left before I attempted to try at that moment. But of course, her mocking voice trailed behind me like spider silk carried by the breeze. ¡°You are welcome to try at any time, child. But your masters will first have to remove the strip of leather you wear like a scarf.¡±


    The leash be damned.


    Evil has lingered here for far too long.


    It was time it be purged.


    ***


    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°Oh, Gods. How did it ever come to this?¡±


    With Titus missing, Eiriol turned her snidely remarks and knowing grins to me, the only victim left. ¡°It has always been ¡®this,¡¯ dear Doyle, even if you were unaware of the fact. Unless of course, there was never a time you found yourself unafraid of his magic and sorcery?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I felt myself distantly sigh. ¡°No matter how much I tried to deny it, I saw it. I mean, he- he killed a fucking unicorn!¡±


    ¡°HE WHAT!?!¡±


    ¡°I... should not have said that.¡±


    ¡°Well, the damage is done.¡± Eiriol smiled at both the twins and I. More so at Corym, though, even though it was his sister who spoke.


    ¡°Do not fret, Wolfgang. If not Amun, Polaris will set its sights on another. Take this one.¡± Indra motioned to her screen. And reluctantly, I followed to see the small but hulking figure I expected to see. And only then did she continue. ¡°The Bodhi Tree offers no courses for Clerics, Sorcerers, and Warlocks. What would be the child, Zlock¡¯s, reaction to a patron of the God of War roaming the south if Amun were not doing it also? Do you not think he would be wary of him?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure he is already.¡± I sighed.


    ¡°As are you.¡± She immediately quipped back.


    ¡°And for good reason!¡± I snorted. ¡°Any Warlock to the God of War is troublesome. Doubly so for a Destroyer. Triply so for one who made their pact before evolving. And as far as I understand, you all think Amun is much worse?¡±


    ¡°Potentially.¡± She coyly shrugged.


    ¡°Okay, then let me rephrase my question.¡± I sighed. ¡°You said change is coming. You think Amun will be the one to bring that change?¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± She scoffed in disappointment. ¡°Look around you and ask yourself that very question, child. I know he is the change-bringer. As do you and everyone else. The change is here already. It is only now that the ripples have wafted into your lives that you have taken notice.¡±


    ¡°Well then.¡± I sighed after a few long moments. ¡°I guess the only question to ask is. What- what is he? Is he even drow?¡±


    ¡°Undoubtedly.¡± Eiriol proudly stated. A strange occurrence, considering their culture. ¡°His pedigree is of the highest order. And yet still, he is more.¡±


    ¡°What, like some super-elf?¡±


    ¡°Ask him yourself.¡± Eiriol heartily laughed. ¡°Or, wait until Polaris and the Headmaster forces the so-called Elven Devil to reveal his nature.


    ¡°If, that is, he does not decide to do it first.¡±

 163 - Beyond the Veil

    Amun.


    ***


    I had been more than relieved to learn the matches were on display in the library. Though, a part of me felt nothing but disgust at myself for not checking first. Since then, however, I¡¯ve spent most of my time within the halls. It was nice to get away from Zakira and the team for once. More so, I could spectate and scan the library and its map simultaneously or tinker with my apps during my smoke breaks and meal times.


    With my abundance of points, I perused the Tomes section to see if I could adapt anything I found with my affinities. However, experimenting with them was another matter altogether. After doing a rescan of the Paths, I moved to the Tales annex to do a general scan of the Mortal Plane before I dialed in on the Bodhi Tree Peninsula. Through that and a slew of tales, I learned the general nature of the Bodhi Tree¡¯s geography and history.


    To make a long story short, Crater Lake cut the Bodhi Peninsula in half. Almost. A relatively thin ridge lined the shores bordering the World Sea, connecting the Bodhi Tree and the accompanying Wilds to the north with the rest of the landmass to the far south. Beyond Crater Lake was a peninsula that measured 14,503 kilometers from north to south and 6,131 kilometers from east to west. It was an area of swamped and rainforested coasts that gave way to grassy highlands, mountain ranges, and even a few glaciers the closer one moved inland. A vast land, ruled by twelve kingdoms. They were unassociated with the politics here at the academy. However, all but one of them housed one of the Bodhi Tree Subguilds in one of their cities. It was there that the second-year students could run wild in an effort to power-level their classes. To say I was excited was an understatement of the highest degree. But there were more important things to deal with at the moment. Namely, my upcoming match.


    I knew not where or what I was to face, but I knew I didn¡¯t care to impress any of the Optimus Regni, nor any guild for that matter. I only cared about spreading Corvus¡¯ message. About letting the realms know that the House of Cole- that the Nox still lived; and was thriving.


    I was done hiding my other side- the divine one. I was done hiding and limiting my power. The time had ticked by at a snail''s pace, ironic as that was to say, but I was nearly at the finish line. In just six months'' time, I would receive whatever Telin had in store for me.


    In just a few days'' time, I¡¯d put my power on display for all to see.


    Soon, I¡¯d be free.


    ***


    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    Amun of the House of Cole. Or, as he was known on paper, Amun. A brilliant half-drow with as much genius as magical gifts.


    That was how I knew him.


    That was how I chose to know him.


    ''Change-bringer.''


    ''Devil.''


    ''Super-elf.''


    ''Potentially.''


    ¡®Ask him yourself.¡¯


    Those words served to haunt me like a poltergeist as I meandered to the Cap. Because maybe, just maybe, they were right.


    I met the Necro King a few times down south. I¡¯ve seen his shadow undead on occasion. But I¡¯ve never seen him fight. Few people have. Still, I knew he was among the strongest in the known realms. I knew he was among the most feared. The most merciless and cunning and deadly. All realization took was but a single glance. He was a man who could and often would destroy empires. Render their lands into inhospitable dead zones and have the inhabitants cut down by his minions and then raised to rebuild their cities according to his liking. Then, he¡¯d leave. And in his wake would be, for all intents and purposes, a man-made surface dungeon.


    Another necropolis, sworn to the Necro King.


    To Polaris, he was an overlooked evil. A blind eye in exchange for the Necro King¡¯s gifts to humanity. Though, I was sure the latter didn¡¯t see it that way.


    ¡®Fickle and dishonest, but honest all the same; cross the Amiable Devil, your soul will bow to his name.¡¯


    That was but one of the stories meant to describe Everandus Cole, the great Necro King. Known far and wide across the realms as the greatest necromancer alive.


    Or, unalive.


    Regardless, he was a devil of that house. Naturally, I assumed Amun would follow suit. I assumed he would be cunning and devious and rueful like the stories suggested his family was. But he wasn¡¯t. Not on the outside. He had the almost pure innocence I¡¯ve seen in all young half-elves. Uncaring of social orders or hierarchy. Only of the arts and magic and, in Amun¡¯s case, science. Yet, half of the stories remained true. Albeit unseen.


    I never expected him to be standing among the greatest upon his arrival. I never expected his powers to be so broken. His affinities, not his Sorcery. It took him nearly six months to show us anything other than his shadow beasts, his pocket storage, or the small glimpse into the void he showed Winston Epeth. So when he finally unveiled his first shadow undead to be a unicorn, it was¡­ unbelievable. Perhaps that was why it took me so long to notice. The unexpected constantly slapping at my face.


    Perhaps it was due to Amun¡¯s twisted sense of kindness. The only things he showed greed for were freedom and knowledge; and perhaps burnbud. Yet he gave them freely to all of his peers. He openly talked about his grayed morals and neutral alignment, but he was kind to his friends and even kinder to nature. He didn¡¯t think in terms of good or evil. Only actions and consequences. So, perhaps that was why.


    Perhaps it was due to his intellect. His mind was a vault that contained knowledge not even Polaris was aware of. Nor the Marulean Guild Association or any other individual from Maru. For the most part at least. It made him mysterious. Like many others, that mystique led me to obsess about him. It made me try and piece together what he knew and where he learned it and, if possible, attempt to learn it myself.


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    Perhaps it was due to his manipulative honesty that I was intrigued- tranced; blinded like so many others as I tried to see beyond the veil of a figure who so often stood within arm¡¯s reach.


    Perhaps that was why I could only picture Amun as an ally- as a human, despite his insistence to the contrary.


    Now, however, the paradigm has shifted. I knew not what Amun was. Devil, Drow, or otherwise. I only knew that the elves knew he would bring change and they were serious about it. So serious that it may as well have come from the mouths of the Gods. He would bring change. And if there was one thing I knew about humans, it was that we hated change. Particularly those at risk of losing the most.


    I knew a lot about Polaris. They wouldn¡¯t sit idly by. Conversely, I now realized I knew little about Amun, but I knew he wasn¡¯t one who would allow himself to get stepped on by anyone. If they acted against him he¡¯d retaliate. It was a matter of when, not if. And when it happened, all of Polaris would see him as a scourge to their existence.


    ¡®Their fear will make an enemy where there is not.¡¯


    The death toll would be astronomical.


    I couldn¡¯t help but think of how Quinn Leonhard would hold up if Amun were out to kill him instead of an ogre. Quinn would probably be dead before he even noticed Amun, then raised as a shadow before his body could hit the floor. Such a thing could happen to all of us. All it took was for him to see us as his enemies.


    ¡®There is no one I call an enemy.¡¯


    We all heard him say the words, Olga, Zeff, and I. It was to Lance and in the presence of Zarzok after the start of the second quarter. He went on to say he had no intentions of ruling over anyone. Amun only wanted to free the continent of Ulai. To liberate it and give it back to those who inhabited it long ago. And then he wanted to explore. To learn. All he wanted was to live freely. He had no enemies, he said. But that was a lie. Or rather, a partial truth.


    He had no enemies, yet. But anyone who threatened to inhibit his goals or worse, take his freedom, would be placed at the height of his shit list.


    ¡®What you are playing with is worse than fire.¡¯


    I knew there was a reason he relegated its use to practical means. I thought I knew what it was. The Void was too dangerous. Too volatile to use freely. But now, I realized. The Void made fighting too easy. I could only think of two things in existence being capable of defending against it. But not without first getting destroyed. One was tied to the very family line who agreed to this mess and the other was utterly unsuitable to be made into armor or weapons.


    I imagined the monster felled by Darekhil Silverforge¡¯s hammer being a ranked minion of Amun¡¯s. Or worse, I imagined the dwarf turned to see the beast gone and replaced by a stain on reality sweeping towards him. Then his body and soul would be erased from existence without warning.


    ¡®It is worse than death.¡¯


    Elijah was the next contestant. A vampire spawn versus a troll was a standard match-up. Weakened by fire in differing ways, but weakened all the same. But against a serious Amun, the troll would hardly have been a challenge and Elijah wouldn¡¯t have dared to raise a hand against him. He didn¡¯t. Not without convincing. Elijah, Opal, and, of course, Zakira were utterly devoted to Amun by the simple account of his birth. As were the rest of vampire-kind and every other kind of undead from living hands to liches. They revered him like a holy emperor because, in their eyes, he was. A Sovereign of Death in the most literal sense imaginable.


    Orsola Estevez was another one who couldn¡¯t hold a candle to him. Even though she was Amazonian, even though she was absurdly strong, she would be unable to even touch him. But neither could many of the Nonusians touch her. These Maruleans were strong. Unnaturally so.


    ¡®Change is coming.¡¯


    Although it bit at me, I patiently waited for the matches to conclude for the day to rally Zeff and Olga back as subtly as I could. Thankfully, such a thing was common practice by now, but the unpleasantness of the situation must have shown on my face.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I shook my head. Quietly. We were in a private annex inside the acorn. A room no larger than a storage shack, large enough only for the three of us. It was as private as private could get but not private enough all the same. ¡°We need to convince the Headmaster to reconsider this.¡±


    ¡°Why!?¡± Zeff pushed his small frame between us at once. Snapping his face between me and Olga, despite her evident reluctance to engage.


    ¡°Some things are better left unseen. Especially by the eyes of Polaris,¡± I said as firmly as I could muster.


    Still ignoring Zeff, Olga squinted at me for a long, hard second. All concern or worry was gone from her face. In their places was a mirror of me. Half-furrowed brows, twitching eyes, and paling skin. Evident signs of a mind working its way through the facts and arriving at a conclusion worth worrying over.


    ¡°It is curious,¡± she eventually said, looking away. ¡°Morningstar¡¯s agreement came far too easily. He¡¯s up to something.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m concerned with the after.¡±


    ¡°The after?¡± Zeff pushed toward me. ¡°What of the after? There¡¯ll be no dragon to torment Bodhi or Polaris in the future. That¡¯s the after!¡±


    ¡°Is it?¡± I lowered my eyes to him and noticed a coldness in my voice that I hadn¡¯t heard in years. Decades even.


    ¡°The Scourge has been kept in check for ages.¡±


    ¡°But what of the rest of the clutch?¡± I looked down at him. ¡°They may have flown away, but Polaris¡¯ territory is vast. They¡¯ll have anywhere from two to four more to deal with. And, are you sure Amun will even kill it?¡± I looked back up to Olga, then down again. ¡°If he does, what if he turns it into a draconic lich? A shadow draconic lich. What if he tries to add it to his collection of shadow creatures?¡±


    ¡°Ugh!¡± Zeff sighed greatly. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of what-¡±


    ¡°But they¡¯re all strong possibilities,¡± Olga said, cutting him off. ¡°Honestly, I think he¡¯ll kill it. He¡¯s a crafter. An Artificer. He¡¯ll want those materials. That said.¡± She slouched into her seat with a heavy sigh. ¡°It¡¯s possible that he won''t. He may just assume he can kill a bigger one and get more materials later. Either way, I can¡¯t see Polaris being all warm and fuzzy by the outcome. They¡¯ll put him on a watch list. He won¡¯t take that likely.¡± She finished grimly.


    ¡°He''s already on a watch list. He just doesn¡¯t know it yet.¡± I laughed weakly. ¡°But Polaris isn¡¯t what worries me. Amun is.¡±


    ¡°Well, he¡¯s certainly not going to die!¡± Zeff harrumphed.


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I mean!¡± I groaned. ¡°You two know him as an aloof half-elf with powerful magic. You¡¯ve seen what he can do on the battlefield from afar, but I saw what led to each of those moments. He described his guild as two forces under one banner. One to walk in the light, as heroes. The other to walk in darkness. Not being evil, in his words, but not good either. In his words!" I echoed myself. "He¡¯s an envoy of chaos and he¡¯s uncaring of our hierarchies and rules. Tell me.¡± I glanced between them. ¡°Has he ever called you by anything other than your first name?¡±


    ¡°N- no.¡± Zeff shook his head.


    ¡°He refers to the Headmaster by his first name as well.¡± I scoffed. ¡°The Headmaster! Emperor Morningstar will be no different. And you know how zealous his followers are.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re afraid of Amun¡¯s reaction to that,¡± Olga finally said. Not asked, declared as if it were a truth I¡¯d been running from the entire time.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I heard myself gasp. ¡°If they act in a way to make Amun view them as enemies, he won¡¯t hesitate to attack. Their battle could destroy the Bodhi Tree itself!¡±


    ¡°Bah!¡± Zeff broke away to storm away from us, only to meet a wall and bound back wagging his finger at me like an angry parent. ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid! Amun wouldn¡¯t dare miss out on the ritual.¡±


    ¡°You think he can¡¯t wait six months?¡± I laughed weakly. ¡°What¡¯s to stop him from leaving once the year is over? Power-leveling in the South? Working with the guilds across Polaris? The Guildmaster course? No!" I laughed again. "He¡¯ll find a wise rock on his own and steal a seed from us, someone else, or Polaris before he destroys them.


    ¡°I hate to say it.¡± I moved towards the door before he could protest further. ¡°But we¡¯ll need Titus¡¯ help to convince the Headmaster. Polaris mustn¡¯t see more than what they¡¯ve already seen. And.¡± I shot a stern eye back to the two in order to drive my next point through their skulls. ¡°Dende Morningstar must not meet Amun under any circumstances.¡±


    "Bah! As if we could stop that from happening."

 164 - Devils Dues

    Headmaster Zorrenor Knagh.


    ***


    I knew the time would come sooner rather than later. A subtle knock at my door, coming with demands for the winds to change. Like all things, I heard them through the whispers of the vines. As they had done before, many times throughout the ages, the leaves were signaling change.


    We were not meant to oppose them.


    Though faceless, the vines¡¯ mannerisms gave hints to those who would appear before my door. The three first-year instructors. The assessors, the preparers, and the teachers. The most important of all of the Bodhi Tree¡¯s staff. For it was they who walked the students through the woodline so they could see each Path with clarity. It was they who held the students¡¯ hands as they found what they truly loved. Accompanying them, however, was another instructor. A Paladin who loved the light above all else. Even the service he gave to it.


    I knew why they were here. The bark itself told me long ago. But like the great tree I was a part of, I would remain unyielding in the face of the storm.


    ¡°I assume you all are here to persuade me against Amun¡¯s encounter.¡± I began before the lover of light could and immediately felt another part of him fade as he backpedaled to where he was before. It was the love of a sense of power and control, seen so often in so many humans. Abused and weak, their minds and bodies were. So short their lives were, they clung to the most basic of primal desires. A true shame.


    ¡°I propose this." I began. You four, Polaris, or any of the southern kingdoms are free to construct or summon something capable of testing Amun. Or.¡± I let the warmness fade from my voice and at once, their heads cranked and turned in worry from the groans of an ancient tree surrounding them. ¡°You could break the rules and fight him yourselves, of course. If you¡¯re willing to face the consequences, that is.¡±


    ¡°My counter-proposal would be to have Amun fight another creature for his encounter.¡± Titus formally bowed. A painful action by the account of his grimace. ¡°He can fight the dragon on his own. Without his peers spectating.¡±


    ¡°That would be an amendment to the rules.¡± I coldly blinked.


    Titus took a step forward. "He is slated to go outside the Tree''s borders. Is that not an amendment to the rules?"


    "It is a condition that has not been needed for ages." I blinked again. ¡°I will not repeat myself.¡±


    Titus was angry. His face was incapable of hiding it, but that was of no concern to me. I only stared and waited for another futile plea, but none came. One by one, they hung their heads in defeat and filed out the door. Save the magic-loving halfling, who retained a smug grin as he trailed behind them.


    Eventually, the door shut and my office was as it had been before their arrival. Quiet, sunny, warm, and wet. And quiet. So, so quiet. But never quite enough to soak in the sun and watch and worry in peace.


    ¡°Anything to lessen the sentence, is that it?¡±


    The question was aimed at me and the voice was mine. It was weeping. As it should have been. As I was.


    It had all been so grandiose in the beginning that the price remained tucked away in the back of my mind. A great tree, meant to become a repository of knowledge for all the realms. The price was an unspoken bargain with an unseen being of the Nox. A deal I agreed to whilst in the state between dreaming and consciousness.


    The last dream I ever had.


    Immortality in exchange for being tethered to the tree seemed a paltry price to pay at the time. But like all dealings with Devils, there was more to the fine print. I was to teach more than just those who trickled in from the other realms.


    ¡®Teach the plagues of Dark. Live shackled, empty, and cursed. Refuse, become Void.¡¯


    Like all things, there were many types of immortality. It took centuries to learn what type I had been cursed with. Biological Immortality. That was to say, perpetual life in the sense of my being having continuity. I remained alive, but I grew unhealthy still. I aged still. I withered still. Still, I could be felled by another. Crater Lake was an eternal reminder of that. But that, I could have lived with. Not to say I had a choice to begin with.


    What I was incapable of living with was the feeling that the Devil in my final dream had planned this all along. That they had foreseen my opening class hosting another Devil of his kind. One who would appear in the flesh to inflict upon me the punishment I deserved for cheating death.


    ¡®The plagues come in pairs. Void and death; death, dark, and dark; void, beckons the end.¡¯


    Like the first, the curse was spoken in a language both alien and familiar. A wickedly abyssal tongue meant to inflict terror upon my conscious mind. That was what I believed, at first. Then the plagues came to the lands. In both north and south, dungeons appeared and darkness loomed. A darkness that loomed till this day.


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    When the first wave of death came, I realized the gravity of my situation. My flesh was rooted. My soul was bound. No dimension could hide me. No deity would claim me. There was no escape from what was to come. Physically or otherwise.


    ¡®Hear Raven¡¯s promise. When the Night consumes the tree. Reap! Harvest has come.¡¯


    Like the objects of all great egos, the greatness I dedicated lifetimes towards realizing would meet a fate worse than my magnum opis crashing down before my eyes. I would see it ripped asunder. Colonized and tainted by ideals that were not my own, and only then I would be killed. Only then I would have my soul split between the Underworld Domains of the Nox to be tortured for all eternity. Or, I would be voided from existence. Even if I was not to die, though. Even if I were to live for another thousand years beneath the shade of this tree...


    ¡®Love is like poison. Sickening and beautiful. Love, it will end you.¡¯


    The second wave of death gave me the realization. Nothing of mine was my own anymore. The grand tree I found long ago. My knowledge. My wisdom. My land.


    My body.


    My soul.


    My love.


    None of it belonged to me. Not anymore. I signed that away with my soul around 1,390 years ago. And more. More than my ego. More than my prominence. I sold away more than power, even.


    ¡®This land is a den, foul beasts of the night roam it. They alone own it.¡¯


    I signed away the very safety of the people who helped me achieve my dream, the first Devil aside. Their lives and the lives of their families were filled with anything but the peace I promised them. Yet, they honorably upheld their end of our deal. Or, perhaps the deal of another. Unlikely though that may have been.


    ¡®The wealth of this land; vanishes in the darkness. Splash, into my hand.¡¯


    Even they lost things. Brybs the most. A once prospering community was now reduced to a sunken coast filled with dozens of slum cities and a single prosperous castle. All because of a single man. The Mastermind. The second Dark Plague to come my way. And now, the second Plague of Void was upon me.


    ¡°It was just as you said, Cole.¡± I sighed, bringing my mind back to my office and my focus through my window, to a vast lake that separated the Bodhi Tree from the rest of the peninsula. ¡°I have nothing left to give now. Only the Bodhi Tree.


    ¡°Only my life.¡±


    ***


    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t what I expected.¡±


    Titus gave the only response. An affirmatory sigh that was filled with nothing but contempt and displeasure. ¡°It is a lost cause.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you speak to your Polaris friends?¡± Olga asked with innocent enthusiasm.


    Thankfully, Titus was too bent to respond in his usual manner. He only grunted again, this time disapprovingly. ¡°No one gets through to Emperor Morningstar. His decisions are final. All we can do now is wait and hope for the best.¡±


    Saying no more, Titus stepped off towards the stairs. His head poised to the right as he stared intently at a certain something. Realization as to what that something was didn¡¯t come until after I stepped after him. Not to tail him per se- we were all heading to the same place, but to study him intently all the same. At the end of his gaze, far across the room, were the elves. Corym and Indra had the same benign expressions they usually held in such a political landscape. But even I could see they were forced at the moment. And Abbot Eiriol, of course, was eerily satisfied. However, her face proved the opposite.


    Obviously, Titus was pissed.


    While foreign to our ears, their conversations died down as we passed and hardly picked back up once they trailed behind us. The Cap was as packed as it was at the start of any other day. But the atmosphere had changed. There was no more eager discourse precluding today¡¯s encounters. Only the soft ripples of hushed speculation pierced the otherwise probing silence. Too many horrific miracles in too short a time, I assumed. And looking at the young man on screen made me assume another was to come. Nowhere near as remarkable as Jaimess¡¯ match, but remarkable all the same.


    ¡°Ahem.¡± I cleared my throat to needlessly gather the room¡¯s attention. The attention had long since been on me since the moment I entered. I was their savior from the fear poking at the back of their minds, after all.


    ¡°Edward Pascal is exceptional in all remarks,¡± I said. ¡°He has been known to keep attention away from himself and doesn¡¯t fight. Not because he¡¯s timid or cowardly. On the contrary, he¡¯s been shown to go overboard in the few battles he¡¯s been in, ending them as quickly as possible. Due to that, he has yet to showcase his full combat ability.¡±


    And I doubted he would today. Even against a Naga. In fact, he didn¡¯t. He reached his hand out the moment he stepped through the portal, enveloping the swamp in which he found himself in a cloud of thick smoke that occluded nearly every viewing perspective in our arsenal. We could only see his domain from above. The Naga was somewhere off-center towards the top of the screen, hundreds of meters away from Ed, but he located it in an instant and compressed the smoke around its body at once.


    As the perspective shifted to a closer angle, Ed swept his free hand and the serpentine body of the Naga slammed down as if it had been stomped by a giant. Which reminded me. ¡°Ed was born with Smoke and or Ash Magic. The same thing, according to him.¡± I hurriedly explained. ¡°Additionally, he was given Force, Torch, and Tungsten Magic at his awakening.¡±


    As if he¡¯d been waiting for my explanation, Ed spawned four pillars of screaming white fire around the beast to set it ablaze from all directions. The Naga¡¯s scream somehow pierced the shrill howl of Ed¡¯s flames, but Ed was unconcerned, almost looking away with his mind on something else while he spawned a massive hammerhead of the dull silvery metal that was tungsten and let it fall on its own.


    With a dull thud that shook every scrying point in the region, the Naga crumpled without resistance into the ground and then sank deeper into the earth as if a sinkhole had appeared. When the dust cleared, the Naga was but an afterthought. There was but a small, unseen stain on a colossal metallic boulder partially embedded into the ground. It was another unexpected round. But not so much as to invite a state of panic into the Cap. Instead, many of the Regni were making open observations of the obvious paired with declarations of him being a prime candidate for recruitment. Little did they know, however, that such a thing was impossible.


    Edward Pascal was now an interest to the Regni and thus a potential threat if he didn¡¯t join. And he wouldn¡¯t join. Because he worked for Amun too.


    ¡®We¡¯re fucked.¡¯

 165 - Legion Building

    Amun.


    ***


    Lucky fucker. To think Jaimess got to meet a trio of Tengu. I had no room to complain, though. Not with an immortal unicorn living in my shadow.


    Regardless, it was an amazing accomplishment that deserved praise. But I was sure of his teammates running his patience dry with their never-ending questions regarding their match so I decided to save it for a later time. Naturally, however, such a start to the third day of encounters made an impossible standard for the other members of his party to meet.


    While I still watched for something interesting- and indeed saw something interesting, the encounters only lasted until noon. Through it all, I remained in the library. Throughout the evening and most of the night, I scanned all the Tales and all the Paths. Once done, I migrated to our private training room for my obligatory routine and awoke the next day to repeat the same process with the Tomes while Ed casually finished off a Naga.


    It was interesting to see his fighting style unchanged after so much training. However, I was sure that would change come next year when he began making his own enchantments. Like me, I was sure he had a long list of ideas and blueprints he couldn¡¯t wait to test out. Possibly even more so, considering that was the only Class he was pursuing. Naturally, he¡¯d be able to make most if not all of them come next year. I, however, would have at least three Classes, not counting The Monk class I wished to pursue. Even if I were to assume I could use my Doppelganger to level up in one of them, that still left three to develop over the course of a year. And so, I was going to need a plan. However, there was only so much planning I could do until I learned what Classes I had and understood what needed doing to level up in them. So with that in mind, I decided to tinker with my apps while the other matches got underway.


    The first of the encounters was focused on Mary Farmer. A basic girl with a basic name who possessed Cotton and Acid Magic. She struggled against a large type of hairy goblin- a bearbug. As things went, most of my interest lay in the creature and after learning enough about it, my mind moved to my apps. Specifically Terranaut.


    The many tales I scanned suggested that mage towers had the capacity to either be permanently set into the ground for more real estate or retain their ability to shrink to a portable size. While the precise method to ¡®set¡¯ a tower and the pros and cons of each were vastly a mystery, I elected to design something in between. Something with the portability of a traveling tower and the space of a permanent one. In the end, it was a mobile home that would remain high in the sky. An enchanted fortress for me and my squad that would remain suspended far above each country, continent, or realm I visited. A round castle, plain in features. A hollow moon.


    My moon.


    The first of many.


    Holding that thought, I left the library for a quick smoke break and came back to see a dwarven woman taking the screens. Forgruna Drakehorne was her name. Her game was the same as any other dwarf my eyes have seen fight. An unmoving stance, loud bellows, and thunderous blows. While hardly entertaining, I took a seat that would give me a nice view of the match should something interesting arise and returned to my moon business. This time for my Legions.


    I first opened the map in my Eternal Eye and focused on the route I plotted across the Mortal Plane to change it once again. While subject to change once more, the method of exploration I was altering now would not be changed. Instead of having my undead ceaselessly march across the lands as Grandpa Lich had done, my Legions were going to rain from the skies in choice locales and take it from there. Thus with that in mind, I went realm by realm, increasing the magnification until the fog that represented unexplored territory began to appear. Each region along my path was then divided into quadrants. And then further into sectors, zones, sections, and finally areas of operation that would be assigned to each squad, platoon, company, battalion, and division to be explored in a systematic, simultaneous order.


    While vast, these planet-sized regions were still tiny fractions of the overall realms I was to explore. My route carried us around Betrarth, for instance. From the first region near the southwestern coast, closest to Maru, I envisioned us traveling counter-clockwise around the continent until we reached the fourth region on the southeastern coast. Then we¡¯d cut towards the fifth at the center of the continent before pushing south towards the Steam Line to do it all over again. But even that was hardly a percent of Betrarth¡¯s overall surface area, and the same principle applied to every other realm we were to explore. Vagua. The White Wall. The Inner Reaches. Nonus. Youtera. There would be virtually endless places to explore even after I left those realms. That equated to the need for what essentially amounted to fast travel. Fast travel for me, my allies, and, most importantly, my legions. But I also wanted my legions to retain permanence, so I decided that each of them would have moons of their own. Floating islands above each realm, acting as the headquarters for that legion and a link to the imperial capital. Also projected to be a moon. But one unlike any other.


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    Naturally, I was so far down the rabbit hole at that point that I hardly took a glance at Elurial¡¯s match. Not that the half-high orc showed any new skills other than refined techniques. Her match did, however, serve to make me remember that the majority of my legionaries would be unpowered. Able to evolve once I obtained my own divine tree, and capable of manipulating the elements, but little else. Initially, that issue was meant to be solved with enchantments. But I wanted to take it further. I wanted my legionaries to be the pinnacle of existence. Demigods. The only way to do that was to augment them. Cybernetically, Genetically, and Magically.


    To do that, I used the standard sensory implants used outside and what was known of the Empress¡¯ might, the Saturnian Knights, to add a slew of folders to Lapland and got to tinkering. It was overkill, but overkill was needed if my troops were to freely explore these realms. If they were to oppose anyone or anything standing in their way, they needed any upgrade I could give them. And I could give them a lot. The problem was the infrastructure needed to bring nanotechnology, AI, and automation into this world, magical or otherwise.


    I had the blueprints for everything- all of the Starfarer¡¯s Archives were tucked away in my Eternal Eye. I only had to build it. That was the problem, however. Building it was a monumental task. But once the work was done, even the lowest of my troops would be superhuman. Even the boots would have skin that could stop arrows and bones incapable of being shattered. Their muscles would be augmented far beyond their station and so too would their senses. They would have everything. And so too would my undead. Every skeleton and zombie would have boron-carbide bones or would be powder-coated with metals- adamantine, hopefully. I envisioned hinged ribs on my skelly boys for them to store anything from poison gas to explosives in their torsos. I designed enchantment-infused spines and feet that would grant them the ability to fly and walk on walls and more.


    Both sides of my legions, living and dead, would be just as unfuckwithable as I would be. And my empire would be untouchable. Or rather, unreachable. Hidden inside a divine domain I was to create once I became a God; or if I didn¡¯t, then in the void of deep space. Either way, I designed the imperial capital to be composed of floating islands. Drifting mountains, continental in scale, and self-sufficient to the highest order.


    It took all through Ritrix Mildbluff and Zeke Smeal''s fights to design the core structure out of what was currently Hill Base, though it was always subject to change. Their fights, on the other hand, were rather interesting. Well, Ritrix¡¯s was. She fought a large type of wolf, one too large to be a dire wolf but too small to be a warg. It was almost human-like in appearance, but certainly not a werewolf. I wasn¡¯t even sure if werewolves existed in this universe, with there being no moons yet.


    Regardless, the fight wasn¡¯t so much of a fight as it was a spectacle. Armed with a lute and a torch, Ritrix came through the portal serenading the land with a peaceful lullaby. A magical tune, infused with mana to lull the beast asleep. Then, rather hilariously, she snuck around the creature. Pouring oil around and atop its fur while her lullaby shifted into a bolero of burning and searing and shredding flesh until nothing remained.


    Then, she lit her torch.


    I couldn¡¯t help myself. The lyrics were perfect, the timing was impeccable. I spilled laughter out into the otherwise vacant library, enough to nearly keel over and howl in joyous pain like the creature she¡¯d killed with pure skill. And then Smeal came on screen to give a lackluster performance, killing the mood enough to bring me back on track.


    I wound up finishing my task just as Smeal¡¯s long-winded match came to an end and the literal son of light¡¯s hand appeared on screen, a small black ring of stone wrapped around his middle finger.


    ¡°Interesting.¡± I leaned forward to study the screen closer. In turn, it zoomed out enough to focus on Lance¡¯s body, crouched into a low stance while his eyes darted around what looked to be an abandoned town. ¡°Now why¡¯d they nerf you?¡±


    It was either because few things were immune to his light or because they thought he was that strong. If the latter was the case, there was a strong possibility of me wearing a negstone ring as well. But even then, I wouldn¡¯t be without power.


    As my father once said, even in the brightest light, there exists darkness. Thus even with negstone, I could use the darkness around me. And so too could Lance with light.


    He appeared before what seemed to be a hulking ogre with red, almost glowing skin and long black hair that flowed down his back to a primitive loincloth of leather and iron straps. Armed with a crude shard of metal that functioned as a greatsword, it turned its wrinkled demonic visage towards Lance and let out a shockwave of nefarious red energy in the form of a scream before it crouched low and disappeared.


    It reappeared next to Lance in the blink of an eye, mid-swing, and snarling while Lance casually ducked out of the way at near-lightspeed to kick the beast in the abdomen.


    While his movements were spectacularly fast, I quickly grew bored with the battle up until the point Lance reached overhead to grasp onto the light itself. Then, holding it against his chest, he pulled his fist apart to form the light into a sword. And then another epiphany hit me.


    I still knew nothing of magic.

 166 - Rising Tides

    Corym Lichenwind.


    ***


    <<Never in all my years would I have thought the light was so weak.>> Eiriol threw her arm towards her screen in a dismissive manner as she laughed haughtily at the extensive effort given by young Morningstar.


    It was crass but also correct. Every child of light to cross our eyes thus far only had two or three tricks up their sleeves. No matter how powerful their light and swordplay were, there were some creatures who were simply immune. Those without new tricks would quickly find themselves dead.


    <<And they think he can best the dragon in place of the Champion? Please!>> She huffed in disgust.


    Under normal circumstances, I would have loathed even listening to the horrendous dialect of Drow. That went for my sister and every other elf alike. But when the topic was Telin''s Champion, it was another matter entirely.


    We were unlike the elves who went to Maru. Us and the Drow alike. We were some of the relatively few elves to venture through the rifts for colonization efforts shortly after they appeared. Elves of all archetypes went through all the rifts. Our efforts brought us through the one leading to Nonus, and then eventually here. To an ancient tree that housed a less-ancient Druid with a spectacular dream. He explained that he allowed himself to be cursed for that dream. Something he attributed to our meeting. Disgusting as it was to hear and worse it was to agree to, we helped him achieve his dream. It became reality some three or four centuries later. He gave the families who helped him land as thanks. And then the curse was transferred to us.


    Not because of Zorrenor Knagh selling his soul a devil that may or may not have predated Cole of the Nox, but because of our elven cousins. Their tinkering with the rifts first led to our abandonment. Not that we were meant to return in the first place. Later, however, we learned of the consequences our cousins'' actions wrought upon the rest of elven-kind. The Eternal came to us with declarations of his champion. Sonorous like that of a celestial, he announced himself to only us elves before he passed on his tasks to us as individuals. Tasks as vague and open to interpretation as any divine decree one could hear.


    ''Hear me, Eternal o'' Telin! The year is both 999 and 1492. Birthed be my blessed Champion, bearing judgment o'' mine. Pave for this road, vivification of material.''


    I experienced a flash of light at that moment. A light that faded to reveal a divine stag with opalescent antlers and eyes filled with countless motes of brilliant light that stared into the depths of my being. The Eternal tasked me with teaching their Champion of our engineering. Later, I came to learn that my Sister''s task was to show the Champion how to access the Faewoods and teach them about its creatures. The Drow was tasked with teaching them something else, though the subject of their instruction was something she never shared. Lastly, the High One was tasked with teaching the champion Ritual Fae Magic. That came as a rightful shock on its own, but we had gained solace at the time by the fact that the higher rituals needed the assistance of other elven mages to do properly.


    Now that the appointed time was near and the preparations were complete, many of us could not help but be nervous. Except, of course, the Drow. So strong was her excitement at the Champion being of the same archetype as her that she was completely uncaring of the fact that he was male. Like all of us, I first chalked it up to pride causing her to voice such speculations. Although now, none of us could hide from the truth. Amun of the Nox was Telin''s Champion. That put Lance Morningstar''s victory over a Red Oni in the back of our minds and the fights of a mere Kobold and Lizalfolk even further back.


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    Quite amusingly, it was in the back of the minds of the humans as well. Though for completely different reasons than us. We were simultaneously relieved to be near the end of our duties and anxious to learn of the judgment Telin''s Champion would bring. The humans were terrified of either or both outcomes of a situation their beloved leader and the Headmaster walked them into. And Doyle Wolfgang, the poor soul, was caught somewhere in the middle. Trapped beneath the webs of Eiriol''s deceit. She was spreading chaos for the sake of passing the time. Something Drow excelled in and something Wood Elves normally cared not for. In this case, however, it at least afforded us a source of amusement until we were able to return to our kingdoms and suffer through the days until the ritual.


    Gods knew we needed it.


    ***


    Titus ''Storm King'' Zlock.


    ***


    "You seem on edge."


    In perhaps I don''t know how long, I glanced away from a screen I had hardly been focusing on. A subtle movement of the eye, it was, enough to move me toward the sound of Mack''s voice while keeping the large body of Zeke Silva within the frame. Judging from his position, he hadn''t been in focus for long. Meaning, I remained in a daze for upwards of an hour. Two encounters. I missed the encounters of a Lizalfolk and a Kobold, so not much was missed. But now was the final encounter of the day.


    Zeke Silva was recommended by Zeff Yurich to face a powerful devil. An obvious ploy to lessen the shock of suggesting Amun take care of the Bairn. And it worked. There was no way the Optimus Regni would have been willing to bring such fiends remotely this close to Polaris for one as untested as Zeke Silva, which only served to increase their likeliness of agreeing to an immediate solution once they learned of a larger, uncontained threat. After a few days of simmering, however, many opinions were beginning to leak through the walls.


    I looked at Silva smirking at a steel golem and could already see the outcome before it happened. The construct fell from a single blow from Zeke''s magical fist. An unsurprising feat coming from a child of the legendary House of Silva. However... "I have a bad feeling, Mack."


    "About the Bairn?" He plopped down next to me with a heavy sigh.


    We were in the annex for once, in one of the dozens of lounges afforded just one of the Guilds of Polaris. Here, it was barren and empty. Silent enough to calm the storm brewing in the mind and possibly silent enough to find a way to fix things.


    "Can''t say I agree or disagree." He continued past my silence. "But it is curious. The elves are tolerating each other. The first-year instructors are stressed and the H.M. is cooped up in his office."


    "I spoke to him."


    "Oh?" Mack''s face went serious for once. If only for a second before his usual kiddish smirk probed me to continue with no wordplay involved.


    "He was unyielding." I felt myself sigh in defeat. A shameful feeling. "He told us to create or summon a beast able to test Amun. Or break the rules."


    "An ultimatum?" He scoffed in false disbelief. "Wow. A fiend''s a fiend, huh?"


    "Mmm," I grunted. Neither a confirmation nor a denial, by my standards at least. "Something is amiss. The headmaster and the elves know what it is."


    Perhaps Emperor Morningstar as well.


    "And Wolfgang?"


    "The Under-Elf is toying with his mind." I sighed. "Giving him just enough information to obsess over, but not enough to make a full answer."


    He snorted out a laugh and shook his head. "As they do."


    "And Amun?"


    "He''s been splitting his time between the library and a training room." Mack shrugged. "Or, he goes outside to smoke and lose himself in a daze for a while."


    "So, he doesn''t know?"


    "No sign that he does." Mack shook his head. "But, the other guilds have got me thinking-"


    "A rarity!" I attempted a chuckle.


    "Yeah." Mack turned away with a sigh of his own. "Amun possesses arcana, right?" He turned back to me with raised brows that formed a pit in my gut.


    "Correct." I nodded.


    "And the Bairn is at the base of the mountain?"


    "At the base of the range." I nodded again, slower this time. Inversely in relation to the enlarging pit. "Yes."


    "Would his magic not attract the Scourge?" Mack finally asked. "That seems to be the worry on everyone''s mind."


    "Dragons are known to either hibernate or needlessly rampage after kicking out their young," I quickly said, though I knew it was a paltry excuse meant to deny the seed that had already been planted.


    "And the Guardian keeps her from doing the latter, that''s true. But." Mack protested. Leaned forward in his seat. "It''s arcana. What do you think she''ll do when she feels a burst of something that strong in the heart of her territory infused with death?


    "We may have a fight on our hands, Titus."

 167 - Brotherhood

    Amun.


    ***


    I finally figured it out. My flaw in using magic. The same flaw I¡¯d noticed many times over this magical lifetime. A flaw I just found a workaround for.


    I saw it all before. Every time Scarlett used her magic I caught a glimpse of it. But I never took the bait until now. Magic was about realizing imagination. Up until now, my magic had been based on reality. I imagined it doing things it could already do because I lacked form. I lacked a style of my own¡ªa theme on which to base my magic. My lightning didn¡¯t have to strike like lightning. It could be a beam. Or a dragon-shaped beam. Or a hundred beams shaped like dragons. I could shape the energies into whatever I wanted them to be. And with my sorcery, I could give them life.


    It took a night of experimentation in the training room, but eventually, I found it. Or rather, them. But that still left more to do before my encounter later today. Three things in particular.


    ¡°Ooh! Is this a date?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but smile as I turned to Zakira. My period of solitude was welcome, but so too was her company at any hour. It was safe to say that I liked her a lot. Not in the sense of lovers. We were far too lived for such things just yet, but she was certainly the closest thing to a best friend I had in this life. Not a vassal and not a sibling either, but something more than a friend and less than a lover.


    ¡°If you want to think of it that way.¡± I shrugged, turned to fully face her, and stepped forward. ¡°I want to show you something. Something special. And I want to give you something too.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle as she looked down coyly, her eyes wide in embarrassment. Meanwhile, I dipped into my Shadow Pocket to retrieve a large vial filled with a thick, reddish-silvery fluid and held it out to her. ¡°For you.¡± I smiled.


    She took it at once. With both hands, she held it against the lights and squinted in pain while asking. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Unicorn blood mixed with a bit of mine,¡± I said. ¡°I know you¡¯re strong. But, I care about you, Kira. You¡¯re my first best friend, besides Peter. I... don''t want to lose you. But I learned long ago that no matter how powerful I may be, I cannot protect everyone. And so I give the people I care about the power to protect themselves in my absence. From anyone.¡±


    She said nothing. She only looked up with tear-filled eyes and stepped in for a hug that lasted a bit longer than it should¡¯ve. But I held both her embrace and a smile until she pulled away regardless. ¡°Thank you.¡± She wiped away her tears.


    ¡°Now then.¡± I stepped back. ¡°Tell me if this hurts.¡±


    ***


    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°Rare to see Epethian Royalty taking up the guise of a fighter.¡±


    ¡°Hopefully he gives us a better display than those from his Empire.¡±


    ¡°Now now, Galliard was quite promising! Surely Winston will be no different.¡±


    The constant babbling had been going on since the moment I entered and had yet to relent. I knew exactly what it was, whistling in the dark; mindless drivel meant to distract their minds from playing one of the half-dozen outcomes of today¡¯s end.


    Today was the day it would happen and everyone was eager or anxious to see it. The Cap, vast as it had seemed over the last few days, was cramped with every Guildmaster, subordinate, or Instructor in attendance. All of them were cramped around their tables, focused on either the archway in one ambiguous courtyard or a doorway within a potentially different courtyard.


    Today was the day Amun would face a young red dragon and either kill it, capture it, or choose not to harm it. Today, and perhaps the next few days was when Polaris would judge Amun as an ally or an enemy of the explored realms. And worst of all, today was quite possibly the day Abbot Eiriol was so eagerly awaiting. The day of change.


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    They weren¡¯t even hiding it anymore. All seven of the Polaris tables had the training annex Amun and Zakira were occupying in full view while they openly pondered and speculated over the events transpiring inside. And of course, Abbot Eiriol was enjoying every bit of it.


    ¡°I think I¡¯m going to throw up.¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re overreacting.¡± Zeff snorted. ¡°All of you! If he fails, there are those of us here to handle it. If he doesn¡¯t, no harm no foul! Neither his undead nor his shadow beast has ever attacked without his permission. They¡¯re under his utter control! This beast will be no different, should he raise it.¡±


    ¡°I hope you¡¯re right.¡¯


    ¡°I AM RIGHT!¡± Zeff spat. ¡°He¡¯s no mass murderer or sociopath! He¡¯s an honorable scholar! An explorer! An Artificer! I, for one, am disappointed that you see your students so lowly!¡±


    The words were like a blow to the spine. Sharp and numbing. Persistent. A pain that would last for years and intensify during periods of long rest. All because it was true. I was a different teacher compared to just six months ago. I used to pride myself on remaining impartial to my students. No matter if they were seen as good or evil or if they grew to become great Magus¡¯ or feared tyrants, I supported them both during and after their studies. It seemed I had forgotten that. It seemed I listened to the whispers of a snake and became manic as a result. But even upon making that realization, I couldn¡¯t help but believe the whispers to be true.


    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± I sighed and felt a great weight remove itself from my shoulders. Not all of the burden I was carrying, but most of it. ¡°Whatever happens, I¡¯ll support him. That¡¯s my duty as his teacher, after all.¡±


    ¡°Good on ya!¡± Zeff gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder.


    Meanwhile, Olga gave a softly mocking snort. ¡°Good to see your mind¡¯s right, but I¡¯m still nervous. I mean.¡± She pointed to her screen and snorted again. ¡°We may not even be able to see what happens. If he shrouds the place in darkness, it¡¯ll be a repeat of his duel with Zohnos.¡±


    ¡°That may be the best outcome of all.¡± I shrugged with unbridled complacency. ¡°He¡¯s a great liar. And he won¡¯t be pressured into telling the truth by anyone.¡±


    They gave affirmative grunts just before the voices erupted from Polaris. Turning, I saw Amun walking out of the training room with a wide grin on his face and Zakira by his side, wide-eyed and stricken. They passed by Winston and exchanged words, though most of them could only guess what they were, I knew Amun and Winston¡¯s relationship had evolved into a strange type of friendship. They weren¡¯t exactly like brothers. It was more like Amun was Winston¡¯s older cousin who sometimes taught him things. Winston respected him, but he wasn¡¯t exactly close to Amun. That was why they drifted apart smiling. Not because they were taunting each other as the others thought.


    Amun went off to step onto the outer wall of the dorm and lay down above the window to smoke while Winston continued on to the crystal to gather his gear and read his objective.


    "Is there a reason for his habit or does he just like to chain-smoke?" Some ambiguous voice asked.


    "He dislikes being drunk so he smokes instead." I shrugged and left it at that. And they did too.


    They remained silent and focused on him and continued conjecturing while I instead focused on the one next to him. Zakira. She seemed¡­ shocked. Awed as she turned her gaze to and away from the half-elf as if she were eyeing a crush from across the room, which wasn''t entirely wrong, but she also seemed utterly surprised as if she¡¯d just seen something remarkable. And then I felt it. Rising from the depths of my mind to consume me once again.


    Fear.


    Something was coming.


    But that I already knew, so I subdued it under the reaffirmations of my duty to support my student, Amun. In doing so, I had no other choice but to support my other students as well. So I turned my attention to Winston, standing proud and tall before a blundering Cyclops.


    With a belated roar, the Cyclops announced itself and bounded forward with a downward smash of its great club. Winston formed a small vertical barrier between himself and the ogre and didn¡¯t even wait for it to break his arm against the edge. He sidestepped to lash at his ankle with his sword just as it reeled back in pain. Then he jumped away, spawning another vertical barrier on the ground for the cyclops to topple onto. It fell, screaming all the while until it landed on its nape and was suddenly silenced and stunned long enough for Winston to skate forward to skewer it through the eye.


    Everyone was astounded at his lack of hesitation and praised me for it, but I knew I wasn¡¯t the one who deserved the credit. Amun trained Copper Party more than I did. Over the last six months, he taught them how to bend the elements and mold mana. He taught them how to use their affinities properly. Moreover, he taught them how to kill. I¡¯d been so absorbed with Amun that I forgot the hundreds of times I saw his peers approaching him, asking if not begging him to spawn their umbral clones so they could kill them. Over and over and over again.


    Now I realized, Amun wasn''t going to bring change by himself. He was going to create an army of individuals capable of bringing change with their might alone, and Class 999 was only the beginning.

 168 - Prey

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Wow, that was fast.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I snorted. ¡°The creatures we face can only be so strong, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Fighting people would be more fun.¡±


    ¡°We will soon.¡± I sighed. ¡°We¡¯ll be free to explore the south next year.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Zakira leaned in close, squinting with sarcastic skepticism. It was a curious sight, considering she was leaning against the very wall I was lounging upon. ¡°How do you know?¡±


    I leaned in closer, squinting in turn as I grinned and whispered. ¡°The library.¡±


    ¡°Tch.¡± She turned away and crossed her arms. ¡°Lame!¡±


    ¡°True.¡± I amiably shrugged. ¡°Not everyone can be as cool as you.¡±


    ¡°Hehe! I mean.¡± She turned back to look me in the eye as she playfully tucked her hair behind her ear. ¡°You¡¯re pretty cool too. That stuff you did in there was real nice.¡± She teasingly dragged on the last words while raising her brows in quick succession. ¡°If you know what I mean.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I chuckled lightly. ¡°So, neither of them hurt?¡±


    ¡°Nah! They felt really good actually.¡± She nudged my shoulder with her forehead, her brows still twitching madly before they suddenly stopped and she pulled away. ¡°The first one was kinda normal but also, like¡­ warm? I dunno.¡± She shrugged with blatant disinterest. ¡°But the second one was, like, woah!¡± Her eyes grew wide. ¡°It almost made me cry. But not, like, sad tears or anything!¡± she grasped my shoulder in reassurance. ¡°It was happy tears. Like, I felt like I was¡­ protected. Like you were watching over me. I felt like I could go anywhere. I felt... free.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± I slowly nodded. ¡°So it¡¯s safe to say it wouldn¡¯t hurt my undead?¡±


    ¡°Oh, fuck no!¡± She snuggled closer for another round of brow bouncing. ¡°It felt really good.¡±


    ¡°Interesting.¡± I grinned, then turned to her with beaming eyes. ¡°Alright. I don¡¯t know if this will work, but-¡±


    ¡°I trust you.¡±


    I paused for a moment in surprise and felt myself staring. Smiling in appreciation toward the woman before me. ¡°Thank you.¡± I patted her head. ¡°Hold on to that feeling. Believe in it. Have faith in it. Pray to it. To me.¡±


    ¡°Like¡­ you''re a God?¡±


    ¡°Like I''m a God.¡± I nodded, still smiling. Still rubbing her head.


    ¡°The God of what?¡±


    ¡°You decide.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± She reached up to take my hand and squeezed it tightly. ¡°I will. And Opal and Elijah will too!¡± She squeezed tighter. ¡°I promise.¡±


    We hung around for a little while longer, enjoying a companionable silence until my smoke was smoked and we went inside. Winston arrived shortly thereafter. Like a hero returning from a daring adventure, he entered the common room to receive immediate praise from the Party and rewards from Slate and Kao before he was able to retreat to his room to freshen up. It was quite a lively environment, especially after considering two-thirds of them were scheduled to fight ¡®dangerous¡¯ creatures. Though, as Winston just showed, that word was highly subjective.


    Instead of worry or fear, I saw nothing but boredom or excitement on their faces as they conversed or brooded in their various corners, their sealed envelopes within close reach to facilitate their opening come the appointed times. Mine was 9:25 and it was a box, not an envelope. Other than that and the general idea of where to be when that time came around, I knew nothing about my engagement. Nor did I care to know. Not where it would be or what it even was against. I only hoped it was a challenge and that it would be a nice addition to my undead legions. Regardless, I was going to put on a show that would be spoken of for ages to come.


    In the meantime, however, there were a few means I could step toward achieving. So with that in mind, I approached Els with the friendliest grin I could muster. He was, of course, at the bar. Slamming down pints of ale every minute or so and paying next to no mind to those closest to him. Though, to say they were close was an overstatement.


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    ¡°So, Elsgril.¡± I settled in the seat next to him. ¡°What¡¯s the price to learn the language of dwarves?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± He firmly stated with nary a look my way.


    ¡°What if I make you an endless flask next year?¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you land for a brewery.¡± I offered with a shrug. ¡°And an alehouse. Or whatever else you want.¡±


    ¡°NO!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll let you inspect my armor?¡± I offered with raised brows and an expectant frown. ¡°All my weapons too. Plus the aforementioned offers.¡±


    He turned, grunting to himself and squinting his little beady eyes to stare at me for a long moment. Then turned back to take a swig of his ale and belched. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± I pried myself from the stool with a groan and a few obscenities muttered under my breath. ¡°On to the next one.¡±


    I was surprised to find him in the common room for once. Probably because he wanted to silently mock the humans while they battled against what he- and I, considered lesser creatures. Regardless, he was brooding in the reading corners. Settled atop a stool that seemed a few sizes too small for his size.


    ¡°Tell me about Queen Tiamat.¡±


    The dragonborne flicked the crimson orbs of his eyes towards me and growled. ¡°Read.¡±


    ¡°I have.¡± I snorted. ¡°The stories say the Queen was sealed away ages ago. I imagine it¡¯s the goal of all chromatics to free her?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s it to a devil?¡±


    ¡°Consider me an advocate for freedom.¡± I shrugged. ¡°If I help free the Queen, I can ask her about the ancient times.¡±


    ¡°And the Gods will seek your head.¡± He snickered.


    ¡°Then the Gods will have to try and kill me.¡± I grinned. ¡°But that may be harder than they think.¡± He growled lightly, squinted hard, and stayed silent to study me for the true meaning behind my words. But I was unrelenting. ¡°Teach me to speak draconic,¡± I said. ¡°Two hundred fifty thousand gold and one enchantment of your design once I¡¯m able to create it. That¡¯s my price.¡±


    ¡°A hefty sum just to learn a language.¡± Urshure huffed out a smoke-imbued chuckle. ¡°I accept.¡±


    After a quick shake to seal the deal, we stepped outside so I could give him the deposit along with a book of mine I asked him to read in draconic while I listened and watched Toni through the screens. She was still shy but had grown as comfortable with fighting as she¡¯d already been in the woods. Although that wasn¡¯t where she found herself now, she may as well have been with an affinity for Snow Magic. She advanced through a snowy tundra without hesitation, a bow made of compacted snow drawn and held at the low ready while she scanned the unchanging environment for her target. There were no trees, no rock outcroppings or source of life, even. Only a powdered landscape of lumpy hills that left Toni Forester in a mind-numbing silence until suddenly, a guttural roar pierced the air.


    She spun about at once and released two arrows of hardened mud at what appeared to be a giant gorilla with pale blue skin and snow-white fur.


    I had seen Toni fight hundreds of times by now and now was no different. She fought from a distance, using her snow to maneuver while her mud arrows were loosed in volleys into the Yeti¡¯s flesh. That wasn¡¯t the object of my focus, nor was Urshure steadily rattling on in Draconic. Those were relegated to the Eternal Eye. My biological eyes were focused on Toni¡¯s magic while my mind imagined me using my magic in a similar way. Lightning Arrows. Gravity Arrows. Nuclear Arrows. It was all possible and more, it would probably be highly effective.


    It would be effective, I realized after five minutes of firing saw the yeti finally fall. It was a horrendously long time for any fight, but a short one considering the toughness of Yeti. By the next fight, however, Urshure was tired of reading and Curious Twig offered no magic or abilities capable of being augmented to my magic so I took a smoke break. Still, however, her fights were a graceful display each and every time I was lucky to witness them and this one was no different. At least aside from the glass panes obstructing my views while I smoked.


    She fought a harpy somewhere in a forested mountain. A seemingly disadvantageous battle if it weren¡¯t for the tremendous climbing and leaping ability of her species. With but a single glance, Twig knew what to do and jumped into action immediately. With levels of fluidity that I could only hope of achieving, she scaled the cliffside and kicked off to arc through the sky and latch onto a harpy. Then proceeded to scratch and bite and claw at it as they fell to the ground. It, in a wrinkled mess of feathers and bones, and her in a neat display of feline grace.


    Duke¡¯s match was much the same case. A round of areal jousting against a curiously large imp that was quickly felled. However, my theories were once again proved by Rhody''s fight. Wherein, he threw hand-shaped cakes of clay over a hobgoblin¡¯s eyes and mouth to blind and suffocate it while he shanked and sliced at it with a pair of water daggers.


    Another fast match and I assumed mine would be no different, yet I still had upwards of fifteen minutes until the awaited time. Fifteen minutes that''d been ticking by so slowly that I sat in a dilated domain outside to pass them by until 9:25, wherein I ripped the parcel apart to scan the contents.


    All I found was a brooch that resembled both a beetle and an acorn that had been cut in half. And of course, a slip of parchment.


    ¡®Amun, you are to enter your dormitory portal at the ninth hour and thirtieth minute of this day to encounter a creature chosen by myself to test your abilities. The portal will take you to the outer rim of the Bodhi Tree¡¯s Territory. As such, you will need to replace your academy uniform with clothes of your own in order to move beyond the barrier. Conversely, you will need this brooch to reenter the barrier upon the completion of your task. That task is, to kill or otherwise incapacitate the creature you are to meet. Any equipment or abilities may be used to accomplish this task. Failure is not an option.¡¯


    ¡®Be without mercy. Bodhi Tree Headmaster, Zorrenor Knagh¡¯


    ¡®Ah. So, I have five minutes to change.¡¯ I nodded in annoyance. But after, I couldn¡¯t help but grin with maddened excitement. This letter made it sound as if I was to face something dangerous. And so...


    ¡°It¡¯s time to go outside and play.¡±

 169 - Bairns

    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    Of course, everyone was either eager or anxious to see the prodigal great-grandson of the infamous Necro King in action. If he was anything like his progenitors, he had the power to end the match in an instant. But if I knew enough about him, I knew he wouldn''t. He would give everyone a show that would remain in their nightmares or dreams for years to come. That''s what he had been doing thus far after all.


    Still, though, I never thought it would come to this. Fifty of Nonus'' strongest guilds poised on the edges of their seats to watch a fifteen-year-old half-drow read a slip of paper until that familiar smirk came across his face. A sign he came to a complete understanding of his task and thought it was either exciting or amusing. Or both.


    He muttered something too low for the scrying point to pick up and without him even moving, the relatively small shadow cast below him darkened and expanded to rise in a cloud of thick umbral smoke to conceal him entirely.


    "According to his file, Amun fights as if he were undead." Zeff began explaining before the ensuing queries grew to a state of worry or panic. "Even during his encounters, he''s been stabbed and cut, had his bones broken, and has lost immense volumes of blood. Yet, he remained fighting until he either needed to heal or found himself victorious." There was a slight pause. Almost like a memory played back in Zeff''s mind to affirm what he was to say next. "That gave us the implication that he was trained by the Necro King to fight in such a way, but he does in fact feel pain. In other words, he feigns undeath to strike fear into his opponents. To counter that, our initial decision was to pair him against a Minotaur. The scent of blood and the sound of cracking bone or tearing flesh sends them into an enraged bloodlust. That rage increases their physical aspects and their innate healing factor, making them extremely hard to kill; and their acute sense of smell paired with an inability to get lost makes evading them almost impossible.


    "A sufficiently enraged minotaur will hunt you to the end of the Plane, they say." He let out a light chuckle that was admittedly well-received. "However, minotaurs are at a disadvantage in the face of Amun''s magical affinities. So, in a way, the Bairn is a perfect opponent for him."


    "Then why does he dress as if he''s to take a walk through a garden?" A face from Orion''s Army spat.


    For whatever reason, I''d been averting my eyes from the cloud of darkness surrounding Amun and instead had been absently shifting my eyes between the various parties at play in the room. I noticed nothing then, aside from their various placements throughout the room. Me and the other first-year teachers accompanied the Class Instructors. Minus Titus of course, who was scowling alongside Raymond Polaris and the rest of Stellaris Garrison on the far side of the room. Now though, I noticed the wide eyes and the mouths left ajar. I heard the subtle whispers and saw the pointing, and so my eyes followed.


    They saw Amun, standing proud and shirtless with a cigar dangling from his lips. He wore nothing but a pair of flowing trousers tucked into thin boots that were a shade blacker than the pants; which themselves had been tied off by a sash made of gilded silk. His hair, usually left to drape atop his shoulders, was tied off at the top by a golden hairpin that resembled a large leafless tree sitting before the sun. Just like the one on his chest.


    It only came into view when he turned to lift himself off the ground. An impossibly black line traced a half-circle that started from his left hip and rose along the line of his ribcage to the apex below his sternum before it arced down to his other hip. Before it was a great tree. Leafless and dying it appeared, with a great trunk that sprouted at his navel, grew to his sternum, and branched across his pectorals like a chaotic web.


    "Is that¡­ his mark?"


    That inquiry was one of many. Dozens, hundreds probably. But there were no answers. Those who potentially had an idea said nothing. They only watched Amun approach the storage crystal to retrieve his ornate pair of daggers and tuck them into his sash with almost palpable intensity. They stared as he withdrew his spear to casually toss it aside and it fell, dropped into his shadow without pause or resistance. They studied his every movement as he paused to fashion the brooch onto his sash. Then a wave of relief washed over them.


    It was a peculiar piece. Worn by the second and third-year students for the sake of the staff knowing their whereabouts and health conditions during their journey''s down south and abroad. It could also envelop the students in a healing cocoon should the need arise. But it couldn''t scry. It couldn''t listen. That was the job of several combined guilds. Bombyx Grove, the White Wisps, Agnes Arcanum, Rex Magica, The Cowl, and several more, all working together for the first time in history to judge a fifteen-year-old half-drow and devil of the House of Cole.


    Thus was the realm we lived in.


    Regardless, what they came up with was effective. With it, we knew the dragon''s location and the scrying could follow Amun''s movements and could even playback his voice. It could see in clarities the Bodhi Tree''s enchantments could only dream of, and in mana too. So long as Amun didn''t produce any more magical darkness or travel too far from the scrying orbs at least, but I was certain he would.


    He emerged facing upright but still levitating as he looked around a grassy field for the target and hardly seemed to concentrate as a thick veil of mana shrouded his skin and condensed into a crystalline, hair-thin veil. He continued turning and suddenly stopped as if he saw it, the hurricane of crescent streaks and spirals of fiery mana swarming amidst an otherwise peaceful field. The mana of a venerable red dragon. Similar, yet opposite to Amun''s, in a way. They both had arcana. But where the dragon''s was like a calamity manifest, Amun''s was a plague in waiting. The former was searing with rage, perpetually, and in a relatively small area; the latter was cold with indifference, opened in small bursts, and had the power to encompass countries.


    With a wave of his hand, Amun released one such burst. A wave of dark purple mana that expanded and grew and kept growing until it blew past the scope of our scrying. He then fell to a gentle landing and the torrent of burning mana responded. A horrendous roar pierced the air, guttural and shrieking and packed with mana. It released a wave of energy that bent the grasses in the distance flat before they ignited without warning. And then another came. And another. Gust after concussive gust, wave after beating wave, boom after deafening boom, the grassland was flattened and ignited before Amun''s eyes with each beat of the dragon''s wing. And yet, he just stood there. Beaming wide like a young master in a weapons shop.


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    "Why does he not react!?" Someone screamed.


    "Because he knows not the gravity of his situation." Emperor Morningstar''s radiant voice silenced most of the room in an instant.


    I, however, could hardly hold back from laughing at the inadvertent pun, but I also wasn''t worried about Amun''s lack of reaction. He was a master of doing a lot with a little. But I wasn''t going to tell them that.


    I wasn''t going to spill my student''s secrets.


    The dragon swept through the grass at low speed, its maw open wide to spit out a 30-meter-wide cone as it strafed over Amun, covering him in flames and setting the grasslands ablaze while it wheeled around to come to a combustive landing.


    Suddenly, Amun disappeared from the blaze and when the screen refocused on him, I knew. No new dragon slayer would be born on this day. It was the birth of something much worse. But something I would accept all the same.


    Amun was standing at its side, still beaming in admiration while the dragon screeched, releasing another burst of heat before it slammed its wing down, cracking the ground beneath it and igniting more fields of grass around it. But Amun teleported again. He appeared a few meters away from its hind leg and the dragon spun around at blinding speed. Its tail followed loyally, arcing right through the dark wisps of Amun''s incorporeal Wraith Form to send out a wave of superheated mana that ignited a four-hundred-meter stretch of grasslands behind Amun.


    But he was just floating there. The widest smile I''d ever seen plastered across his face as he beamed. "Fascinating!"


    It wheeled around to swipe at Amun with its claws but Amun just blinked out the way again, smiling to himself while he gave broad strokes to its ego.


    "I find myself humbled in the presence of your magnificence." He beamed.


    The beast roared in what I perceived to be frustration and flapped its wings to take off. Amun casually flicked his hand to release a domain of silvery-white mana that stopped at the edge of the dragon''s snout before he spawned a globule of the purple mana to give chase.


    "He''s¡­ studying it!" The Life Blood''s Guildmaster cried. "Why, I''ve had the same look many times over the years. Though¡­ my subjects were usually¡­ well, deceased."


    Suddenly, everything went dark and pandemonium ensued. The Bombyx and the White Wisps scrambled to reconnect the link as quickly as possible while screams, shouts, and cries rose through the room. Titus began scowling. Abbot Eiriol was laughing. Emperor Morningstar was watching with intent silence. Waiting for the screens to shift perspectives and reveal the red dragon wyrmling standing on the ground, its head tilted in an almost inquisitive manner while it stared at the half-elf standing with his arms spread to his sides, his jaw moving with noiseless words.


    "What happened?"


    "I hear nothing!"


    "What is he saying?"


    As the seconds ticked by, the dragon''s posture relaxed further and the tension in the room drew tighter. It replied, noiselessly in the same way Amun had spoken. Then the seconds passed to minutes. More questions were thrown out and people began to shift as if they were preparing to move until lights flashed and a horrendous scratching sound filled the air.


    All eyes snapped to the screens to bear witness to a sphere of distorted space forming around Amun and the dragon. In swirls of reds and blacks and golds like black oil standing on water, the space mixed and churned and roiled before dark clouds bloomed from within to consume the entirety of the shell. It grew and the scrying point distanced itself in turn. But still, it grew. It condensed. Fantastic bolts of seafoam green and gray-black lightning streaked out from within the sphere as it expanded and darkened into the impossible darkness that was the void.


    Then came the burst.


    We had no need for the scrying orbs at that point, not that we could still use them in the first place, for we could see it clearly through the windows. A blank spot on reality, rising through the clouds like a pillar meant to support the heavens.


    Like a plague, it infected the scattered clouds and made many more in turn as it breached them, morphed them into ashen gray storm clouds that flashed in the same seafoam-green radiance as before. Then, it began slowing. Halting as it reached the same elevation of the acorn in which we occupied before it splayed like a great hand. Like the great tentacles of a Kraken, the tendrils of void scattered apart and began raging. Lashing out with wild abandon to unearth plates of material from the ground far below and to delete swaths of air from the skies high above. The skies howled in protest, ripping leaf and branch and trunk from the ground to mix into the toiling clouds of earth the tendrils had rent and were rending still as it whipped and thrashed and flicked its arms in a mindlessly controlled fury. Bending in unnatural angles to spare the landmasses floating between it and destroy the ever-expanding landscape it was so intent on rending.


    Eventually, the tendrils began to slow and the chaos ceased immediately. The arms then rose and froze in a picturesque fashion to give the image of a colossal trunk that towered over the heavens. Dark as the abyss it was, like a leafless tree placed before the sun that was Polaris. Still. Unmoving like the Bodhi Tree itself, even as the air and boulders and floating trees swarmed around it like a hive of enraged wasps.


    In the face of such a sight, the room was forced into a silence that threatened to last into eternity. Then, a blur of motion served to unpause time. The Void Tree was now moving again. Twitching. Reaching a single tendril up and out in our direction.


    A sudden flash of light kicked my lungs off of break time. I felt myself gasping loudly, cold sweat covering my shaking body as it turned with nary an acknowledgment to Eiriol''s snickering to find Emperor Morningstar missing from his seat. Titus was storming out the door and Olga was urging me out of my seat as she rose from hers, screaming. "We have to go!"


    She disappeared at once. Up the wall and out the window, she jumped to intercept Amun as quickly as possible. But I couldn''t move. I could only watch the tendril keep reaching. Looming. Descending and slowing to a halt at the edge of Copper Party''s courtyard like the finger of a God descending to bless a single blade of grass. Once blessed, it was like the universe itself had blinked. The darkness appeared and disappeared in an instant and just like that, the Void Tree was gone. As were the dark clouds and deathly lightning and the rocks and the trees and the charred grass and dirt that was storming within them. All of it was gone. Even the reaching branch of nothingness was gone, and standing in its place was Amun, grinning like a prince who''d just been crowned king.


    Or, he was, up until a flash of light appeared before him. When that happened, all his joy and pride and amiability and excitement melted away at once, setting off a wave of mixed reactions from the crowd around me. Zeff was trying to back further into his seat as if to hide from the coming tide. Abbot Eiriol was now the one to be on the edge of her seat, though she was stiff with laughter. Every guild from Polaris was indignant and soured in the face. And I was doing everything in my power to get off my ass. But a part of me knew my appearance would be meaningless and thus tied me down mercilessly.


    So instead, I turned to Eiriol, Corym, and Indra with the weakest, ''I guess you were right'' smile I could muster. "I guess he decided to do it first."


    "Yes." Abbot Eiriol rose with an amused sigh. "So let us see what that means for ourselves, shall we?"

 170 - Deal or no Deal

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°It¡¯s time to go outside and play.¡±


    Sighing heavily, I drifted through the vined portal and came to a halt in a vast steppe. Looking down on the entire expanse was the vast mountain range that separated the Bodhi Peninsula from Nonus proper, and the scale of it was truly astounding. Being larger in width than the planet I grew up on and taller than any landmass had any business of being, it was a wonder how the range was able to keep from crushing under its own weight. But then again, mana changed everything in this universe.


    Attempting to survey the ranges from east to west, I turned, only to halt halfway after seeing yet another marvelous sight. It was¡­ esoteric, almost. Like an abstruse dance performed by amorphous energy that was both rage and fire, pride and avarice. A cloud of crimson plasma that spun in weaves almost untraceable to the eye, like sentient coronal mass ejections.


    An Extreme Mana Zone was my first thought. But, it was¡­ small. As large as a few city blocks, but nowhere near large enough to be called a Zone. And it was out of place. A heart of primal fire in the middle of a barren steppe. It was something else. What, I didn¡¯t know. But I felt as if it could get messy so I sent out a Gravity Domain to encompass the entire area before drifting to the ground.


    Its protest came immediately.


    Bloodcurdling and vengeful, the shriek of a foul beast pierced the air like a line of grenades had gone off in the distance. A concussive boom followed to shake the air and ground around me before the fields far ahead ignited into a column of flames. Another boom rattled the air, conjuring another column of flames. Then another. Then another concussive beat after concussive drum beat of¡­ wings. Faster and faster with each passing second, the moving wall of flames covered meters and meters of distance until it was right upon me. And with a final beat, it emerged.


    I couldn¡¯t believe my eyes and thus stood in place as it belched out a cone of white-hot flames from its maw and proceeded to bank around the grasslands to entrap me in a ringed conflagration before it came to a landing.


    It was an actual red dragon. A creature that was far more graceful and majestic than the tales suggested; and its appearance could not have been more auspicious. Fortuitous, even.


    While it let out a cackling, infernal derision, I Bamfed over to its side for a quick inspection and it reacted immediately by releasing a scorching burst of mana in the form of a roar. Being immune to both heat and fear, however, I let my senses wash over me with beaming eyes until it thrashed.


    I Bamfed at once, reappearing by its hind leg just as its wing slammed into the ground, reducing the grasslands to a bed of compacted and charred topsoil bent on igniting the surrounding lands. Then, it thrashed again.


    Intent on keeping my angle of observation, I assumed my Wraith Form to let the tail phase through me and heard nothing but pure carnage behind me while its full magnificence was bared before me. I couldn¡¯t contain myself. ¡°Fascinating!¡±


    And it truly was, but it was also angry as fuck. It wheeled around at once to dive at me with its claws but I continued Bamfing out of the way without issue, even while I tried my best to flatter it.


    ¡°I find myself humbled in the presence of your magnificence.¡±


    After coming to the evident realization that it couldn''t beat me, the dragon seemed to give up and flapped its great wings in an attempt to flee under the cover of explosions. But I was faster. Much faster.


    With a flick of the hand, I sent out a spatial domain to trap the dragon in an expanse of infinite space. It flew and flew dozens of meters per second but went nowhere relative to the ground below it. I, on the other hand, lazily orbited the majestic creature under the influence of an Artificial Well to study its anatomy and whisper sweet somethings in its ear; wherever it even was.


    It was comparable in size to a large shire. A 3-meter tall shire with great leathery wings spanning an equal distance across its shoulders. A shire, sporting loose-twisted, swept-back horns glowing a sulphuric yellow and a scaly, beaked snout with nostrils that glowed like embers and even sent trails of smoke drifting through the air with each exhale. One with almost stone-like crimson scales and a thick, frilled tail, coupled with a pair of reptilian eyes that looked down on me with pure burning malice.


    Judging by its size, it was a Wrymling; around my age, but equal in mental capacity to a man twice as old, according to the scale. It was one of the most intelligent, cunning, and dangerous creatures in existence; and it was fucking adorable.


    Even though it smelled like rotten eggs.


    ¡°You are absolutely stunning!¡±


    And it truly was. A perfect union of genes that made an apex predator among apex predators. By observation, it was closer to a feline than it was to a reptile. It had a digitigrade gait with the proud, majestic grace of a jaguar and even shared a few feline mannerisms and behaviors. Like the attitude. But red dragons and humans- mortals were alike in a few ways. They were fueled by greed, power, and wealth; and I had the means to appeal to all three.


    ¡®I hope you¡¯re watching, Azrael.¡¯ I spread my arms with a warm smile to spread tiny domains of shadow over the scrying eyes around us. ¡°If I may give us some privacy, I¡¯d like to talk.¡± I gestured to the motes before lowering myself into a bow while I descended. ¡°It would be the highest honor to converse with one as grandiose as yourself.¡±


    ¡°Of course, it would be! You are wise to know at least this, Tiny Devil.¡± The dragon huffed flames through its nostrils before attempting to bank and only met more expanding space before it landed in a magnificent pose and a burst of mana.¡±


    ¡°My name is Amun of the Nox. May I ask yours, o¡¯ Great One?¡± I bowed again.


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    ¡°Cononthoth!¡± It proudly said. ¡°For what reason should I spare you from becoming my next meal, Tiny Devil?¡±


    ¡®Thoth. How fitting.¡¯ I nodded, then pointed to the scrying orb that had reappeared outside of my thin veil of vacuum. Then turned to point at the colossal Bodhi Tree in the far distance. ¡°The humans in that tree tasked me with killing a certain something with no description as to its nature. Now, I don¡¯t take orders, but I figured the job would¡¯ve at least given me a chance to increase the power of my legion. And then I met your Excellency." I turned to fully face Cononthoth with a warm smile before continuing. ¡°I couldn¡¯t possibly raise my hand against a Venerable Red Dragon. One of the other Chromatics or a metallic, undoubtedly. But not the strongest and greatest of all Dragonkind. So instead.¡± I peeled my warm smile into a dubious grin. ¡°I¡¯d like to propose a deal.¡±


    ¡°I would like to eat you.¡± Cononthoth snarled. ¡°One day, when you are no longer tiny, I will.¡±


    ¡°I invite you to make the most out of your meal whenever you believe the time appropriate.¡± I gestured to myself, still grinning. ¡°I¡¯ll even add it to the deal. I plan to give you the power to do so, after all.¡±


    ¡°I am a Red Dragon!¡± Cononthoth roared. ¡°I am the most powerful creature in all creation! Firstborn in all the realms! Descended from Queen Tiamat herself! What can a Tiny Devil like you do to grant one such as I, more power!?¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess that makes us kindred spirits.¡± I shrugged with a smirk. ¡°You are the pinnacle of all creation.¡± I gestured to it, then to me. ¡°I am the paragon of destruction. I am a Master of Shadows. A Sovereign of Death. I am Void Incarnate. I represent the fabric and structure of this very universe, for I am the Eternal Champion of the Creator, Telin, thus I can give you the glory of becoming the progenitor of a new class of dragon. And, I can provide you with refuge from what all mortals fear the most.


    ¡°A slow death.¡±


    ¡°I would not be the first draconic lich to exist,¡± Cononthoth growled, forcing plumes of fire from its nostrils.


    ¡®Draconic what now?¡¯ My mind shook in response to the words. But I fought to maintain my image on the outside. An amiable grin and a knowing shake of the head. ¡°I speak of no mere draconic lich, o¡¯ Great One. I speak of the glory of becoming the first Venerable Shadow Dragon in existence; the Matriarch of Shadow Fire. Fertile in both body and spirit. Not to mention, I can give you something far, far greater than that of lichdom.¡±


    Cononthoth stayed silent for a long while. Their massive head tilting this way and that like a ship on rough seas while it growled- purred ever so softly. Then it grumbled. ¡°Speak.¡±


    ¡°Here are my conditions.¡± I filled my hand with darkness to mask the umbral mana leaking into my voice. But of course, the dragon sensed it. ¡°If you choose to give me ancient or arcane knowledge, I will invest in your horde.¡± With the darkness imbued into my hand, I opened my Shadow Pocket and used an Artificial Well to withdraw ten million gold and pulled it into an orbit around the both of us. ¡°If you decide to grace me with your presence as I travel the realms.¡± I let a bit of void mana flow into my left eye and allowed Cononthoth to catch a glimpse inside my Twilight Domain. ¡°I will accelerate the rate of your growth and keep you in your prime in perpetuity.


    ¡°Regardless of when or if you decide to share knowledge or explore with me.¡± I continued before it could protest. ¡°My end of the bargain is to grant you the power of darkness and to gift you dominion over the Darkworld. If you agree to my conditions, our spirits and souls will remain close, even while our bodies and minds are apart. This link will ensure I can uphold my end of the bargain. And, of course, it will give you the means to devour me whenever you so please. The only other condition is that you may never bring harm to my allies or subordinates. Directly or indirectly.


    ¡°The Tiny Devil thinks himself mighty enough to scourge the Realms?¡± The dragon snickered in infernal laughter after a few moments. ¡°He thinks himself able enough to live in perpetuity?¡±


    ¡°I do, Conontoth.¡± I grinned. ¡°And I will. Because I have all the time in the world. And so too do you, should you agree to my terms. You, Cononthoth, will be the greatest dragon to have ever lived behind the great Queen.¡± I pointed, then opened up my palm towards the dragon and the shadow magic lingering in the air followed, only to cascade back into my palm to inscribe the clauses of our agreement into my flesh.


    ¡°So, deal or no deal?¡±


    After a long, tense moment, Cononthoth crouched low and let out a roar that sent heat waves rippling across the orbiting gold. Then it lunged. ¡°Dig your grave!¡±


    Taking it as an agreement. I reached in with the Chrono Dial tuned down to give Cononthoth''s claw a firm shake. And the moment I did, my Mana Well exploded.


    Much in the same way as in my experiences with Curse Spells, the sum of energy within my Well poured through my Void Core and flowed out the side as pure Shadow Arcana that cascaded down my arm and into the dragon¡¯s claw, where it spread through its veins like venom. It began thrashing about in protest at that moment but the darkness, ever-increasing in its deluge, inhibited both its movements and screams. A few seconds went by and the concentration of darkness reached a critical mass. Plumes of shadow began billowing from my hand, spreading to encompass the burning fields and the spinning bands of gold coins that surrounded us until suddenly, the flow of arcana shifted within me.


    A small stream broke off from the current to carve a path through my void core and emerged out the other side as a worm that burrowed up to my eye, filling my vision with pictures of radiant skies and toiling black clouds and streaks of deathly lightning.


    The Gates of Twilight were now wide open.


    Like an airlock had been opened in a spaceship, the darkness and gold surrounding Cononthoth and the dragon itself vanished in an instant of violent depressurization, leaving a whirlwind of darkness cascading into my eye along with the gravitational, spatial, and temporal magics I spread across the environment. But it wasn¡¯t over. It was just the beginning.


    My stream of arcana was shut off from the darkness and had nowhere else to go but through the Void. Out and out and out it poured and released from my detached body until I felt my sense of self expand in the strange way it did when I became one with the Void.


    I was formless and omnipresent. But changing. First into the form of an ever-expanding sphere before I morphed into an elliptical shape that stretched and continued stretching both above and below. Into the skies it reached. Into the Darkworld it loomed. So high above and far below until I felt as if I was grounded to the Mortal Plane itself. Like a tree made of Void, I fed off of the dark radiation found throughout the Darkworld. I felt it soak into my roots. I guided its flow up my immense body and spread it through the web of waving branches that were somehow both under and outside of my control.


    Like branches without leaves, the tendrils whipped through the air without relent, stealing oxygen and clouds and earth and trees and rock from the Mortal Plane to thrust them through the Gates of Twilight. In they went and out went streaks of deathly lightning and umbral clouds to take their place. Any and everything this particular void touched was rent and sent asunder. What remained was transformed and tainted and left to drift under the forces of anti-gravity and torrential winds that carried them skyward. Upward and around and down they fell. Round and around into a rapid orbit around the Void Tree until they too were pulled into Twilight.


    Seconds, minutes¡­ I cared not how long it took for the flow to cease- for my Mana Well to deplete. For Twilight¡¯s Gate to close. But like all things, it did.


    Still, however, the Void Tree remained. Waving and bending under my full control towards the Bodhi Tree. Towards the courtyard to come to a gentle rest at the edge of the tiled stone; where, like a server backpedaling through the kitchen door, I detached from the void and made it follow. It cascaded into my left eye like an ocean draining into an eldritch chasm to reveal a jungle expanse to my rear and a spacious courtyard to my front.


    Then came the flash of light.

 171 - Hard Truths, Soft Lies

    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°So let us see what that means for ourselves, shall we?¡± Abbot Eiriol didn¡¯t wait for my confirmation. She only nodded to me as if I had agreed before her body lifted itself from her seat to begin drifting up and out with the same window Olga just egressed.


    Corym and Indra followed. Both of them darted through the window with the fluidity and grace that only elves had. And then I followed. But only after my eyes turned to throw stern daggers at Zeff, though I couldn¡¯t blame him. Diving from the canopy was only fun for the powerful and crazy, descending to face the Emperor of Light and a defiant Devil notwithstanding. Luckily, there were more than a few clouds to latch on to as I fell. Reducing my mortal fears, if only by a little.


    I landed next to Eiriol and Olga at Titus and Dende¡¯s flank while the elf of the hour stood across from them, obscured by a cloud of smoky darkness. In that awkward silence, we stood. Watching. Waiting uncomfortably for the darkness to fade from around Amun¡¯s body to reveal the Bodhi Tree colors we all were familiar with. And then Dende stepped forward, prompting his dog to follow close by at his heels.


    Wearing the gilded and silvered armor of his proud family, The Brightest Light of Polaris, Dende Morningstar, strode forth to stand before his antithesis. A 15-year-old student who stood a full two heads shorter, yet still managed to look down on the Emperor as if he were a mere mouse. ¡°What happened to the Bairn?¡± The Emperor calmly asked.


    In the face of such a sonorous voice, all Amun did was raise a brow and ask. ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°The dragon,¡± the Emperor said, his smile still warm as the light he carried.


    ¡°Oh.¡± Amun turned away with a snort through his nose. Disinterest was clear in his eyes, body language, tone, and more as he waved his hand, muttering. ¡°It¡¯s gone.¡±


    ¡°To where?¡±


    ¡°To a place that''s not here.¡± Amun snapped his gaze back to Dende. But there was no anger, only impatience; a rising sense of impatience that seemed to delight Abbot Eiriol even further. ¡°Now then.¡± Amun passed a cold, pervasive, magic-less wave of goosebump-inducing caution over the lot of us as his eye flicked between ours. ¡°Is there a reason why you¡¯re all surrounding me? Or am I just being paranoid?¡±


    ¡°The dragon¡¯s fate cannot be left to interpretation.¡± Emperor Morningstar began. ¡°If-¡±


    ¡°If the dragon was that important to you, then you shouldn¡¯t have tasked a student to deal with it.¡±


    ¡°Mind your tongue, Boy!¡±


    Amun snapped in Titus¡¯ direction. But this time, his brows were furrowed into a scowl and his eyes were brimming with things I had yet to see from him. Malice. Hostility. Anger. Though his voice was eerily calm as he spat. ¡°And who the fuck are you supposed to be?¡±


    Titus stomped, growling and baring electricity and Amun did the same, his brows now raised and a manic smile spread across his face while purple and seafoam-green lightning danced across his body.


    ¡°Titus!¡± Emperor Morningstar waved him down and Titus halted both his advances and his lightning at once. But Amun¡¯s lightning- pervasive and deadly as it was, only intensified while he stared at Titus with an eerie calm. ¡°Do you know who I am, Amun?¡± Dende asked through the storm.


    Ever so slowly, Amun¡¯s magic faded in turn with his shifting gaze. But not entirely. The streaks of lightning and wisps of darkness still crept and billowed from his skin while he sized Emperor Morningstar up from head to toe. ¡°I assume you¡¯re Lance¡¯s father? The Emperor of Polaris.¡±


    ¡°Dende Morningstar.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Amun nodded, but barely. Instead, his eyes, still brimming with hostility, turned back to Titus before a curious smirk peeled across his face. ¡°Your dogs need more home training. Or a lead. Lest they bark up a rotten tree and find it toppling down on them.¡±


    ¡°Is that a threat?¡± Titus growled at once. But dared not step forward.


    ¡°Call me boy one more time and I¡¯ll curse you where you stand, Titus. And if you keep baring your filthy teeth at me, I''ll erase you from this universe before you can make a spark. That was two threats. Now be quiet. Your betters are speaking.¡± Amun snorted, turning his shaking head back to Dende.


    Fucking humans.


    ¡°You are as unruly as they say. Moreover, you and my son are like two sides of the same coin. The brightest light and the darkest shadow, both with arcana.¡± The Emperor chortled. Though even I could see the heat building up within him. No one had ever talked to Emperor Dende Morningstar in such a rude manner. No one but the Necro King and the Iron Magus, perhaps. Which made his rage burn ever-hotter, I was sure.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I believed at first, for that was what I was taught,¡± Amun said without delay. ¡°Then, I grew older and learned the truth. Only to later ignore it. But now.¡± He wagged his finger like a lecturer as he so often did while monologuing. ¡°Now, I remember. And I¡¯ll never overlook it again.¡± He paused to stare deeper into the Emperor¡¯s eyes. ¡°Darkness cannot exist without light? Hah!¡± He rocked back on his heels. ¡°That couldn¡¯t be further from the truth. The reality is, darkness is the preferred state of the universe. Darkness is natural. It permeates the universe without end. Ruined only by the presence of matter and energy pouring radiation and light into the void.


    ¡°Empty. Unchanging. Darkness.¡± Amun shifted his gaze to Olga. Then to Abbot Eiriol, Indra, and Corym. Then to me, where he held it for a long, panic-inducing second. ¡°Void.¡± He turned back to face the Emperor. ¡°That was the state of reality before the days of creation. That will become reality when all the stars die and all the matter decays. All this universe will be is a void of nothingness. Light is fleeting, Dende Morningstar. Darkness.¡± He gestured to the abyssal tree hidden beneath his clothes. ¡°Is Eternal.¡±


    ¡°You are as strange as they say as well.¡± Dende chuckled after a second of faux speculation. ¡°You have quite a different opinion than that of your predecessors. Yet, still, you are like them. A dauntless sorcerer who is uncaring of the titles men bestow upon themselves.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re just like every other mortal who imagines their throne sits atop an unbreakable pillar.¡± Amun sighed with rising impatience. ¡°You assume everyone you meet will prostrate before your name or revere your presence and label those who don¡¯t follow your ways of thinking as vagrants or evil or simply, ''the enemy.'' I can see that much through your dog.¡± He threw his chin towards Titus and snickered. ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re here, after all.¡± He turned his snickering to the Emperor. ¡°To see if I killed the dragon, like someone just and righteous, or to judge me as evil if I either didn¡¯t or turned it undead, right? Isn''t that why you¡¯ve been spying on me for the last several days?¡± He waved to the courtyard and beyond. ¡°Watching me in order to see if I¡¯m one to be ignored, recruited, or smitten in the name of the light. And when intimidation doesn¡¯t get you your way and violence can¡¯t be used, you resort to misplaced flattery and paltry lip service in a meek attempt to see what you can glean in person. That makes you sound ignorant, it makes me see you as an idiot.¡± He turned back to the Emperor. ¡°I¡¯m nothing like your son and I¡¯m nothing like my predecessors. But you are correct about one thing. I don¡¯t care for the titles of mortals. All souls look the same from where the Nox sits, Dende. Everyone dies the same.¡±


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    ¡°And did the dragon die?¡± Dende calmly asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s gone,¡± Amun replied in turn, dispersed his mana, then stepped past the Emperor without a word.


    ¡°I have one question.¡± Dende turned after him. But Amun kept walking. ¡°How are you uninhibited by the light?¡±


    It was like a slap in the face to more than one of us. Olga. Me. Titus. Corym. Even Abbot Eiriol. We all knew he was a Drow. We all knew he was a being with death and darkness flowing through his veins. A devil. The simple fact of him walking under the sun without issue should¡¯ve been the biggest red flag of all. I, personally, assumed he wore an enchantment but¡­ he wore no rings aside from the platinum band of the guild association around his bicep.


    Amun was unaffected by sunlight. But he didn¡¯t give us a reason as to how. He only snickered and shouted over his shoulder as he kept walking. ¡°You and all the realms will find out soon enough.¡±


    Nothing was said after that. We watched him step off into the courtyard and disappear around the corner without uttering a sound, and the silence was palpable. Taught with tension and flooded with a mix of unexpressed emotions. Seething anger from Titus. Hidden indignation from Emperor Morningstar. Concern and worry from the wood elves. Pure joy from Eiriol. And utter shock from Olga and I.


    This was it.


    The change was here.


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Fucking humans.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know what Dende or his dog¡¯s problem was and neither did I care. Nor did I need to remember Grandpa Lich¡¯s word to not let anyone walk all over me. I meant what I said. War was something humans on the outside spent over a hundred thousand years perfecting with ever-increasing technology. Thus it was something I was fully capable of and comfortable with doing, and I wouldn¡¯t hold back for anyone. The Geneva Convention existed in Sol only, after all. In my eyes, a million casualties of war equated to a million undead. No one would be spared, for the Mortal Plane had plenty more.


    Sighing out a heavy cloud of smoke, I settled on the sidewall of our dorm to stare through the window and smoke the bullshit out of my mind. There were around eighteen or so minutes until Peter¡¯s match was to start and there were a few things I wished to take care of before then. Namely...


    <<What do you three know about Telin?>>


    The three elves, two wood ones like Zaos and a drow, froze mid-step and turned as one to face me. But it was the drow who was the first to step- or rather glide forward. She was dressed in monk¡¯s robes and held a regal posture like my mother. Her visage was eerily similar as well. With the same stout and pointed nose and sharp chin and violet skin and eyes that gazed upon me with pride. She looked just like my mother, to be frank. But I was aware of the potential of that being biased due to her being the first of my kind I¡¯d met. And yet, there was something different about her as well. She felt¡­ fragile, almost. Like I could... feel her brittleness in my bones.


    She was ancient.


    <<I will tell you that the time has not yet come, young Champion.>> She said after halting before me. <<You will learn all once you evolve and ascend.>>


    <<If you still can.>> One of the wood elves scoffed in disbelief. He was a male, hardly distinguishable from what could only have been his twin sister, as they both boasted wide foreheads, copper-brown skin, and tribalistic tattoos trailing down their faces. <<Would you have truly erased Titus?>> He asked.


    <<I do not make empty threats.>>


    <<And if you were unable to perform the ritual as a result?>> The sister asked. <<What then?>>


    <<Zorrenor has no choice but to let me complete the ritual.>> I snorted. <<My ancestors made sure of that.>>


    <<And how far into the south will your plagues reach?>> She then asked.


    <<Who knows?>> I shrugged. <<I have never been there.>>


    <<Well I live there.>>


    I gave her a good smile coupled with an emphatic nod. <<Good for you.>>


    <<What she means to say is that she is the Druidic Instructor for the graduates of the Bodhi Tree. The Senior Archdruid of Redagh.>>


    ''Graduates?''


    <<Her name is Indra Lichenwind.>> Her brother continued before my thoughts could wander, bringing me back in time for me to see him gesturing to himself while saying. <<I am the Ranger Instructor and the King of Rhar, Corym Lichenwind. It is our hope that your plague has no effect on our lands.>>


    <<As you may have surmised, I am the Abbot Eiriol of the Bodhi Tree¡¯s Monastery, Nydorden Halls.>> The Drow bowed.


    <


    > I lowered into a half-bow aimed at the three of them. <<Since you are unable to tell me about your tasks, I will say that I look forward to our reunion in six months.>> I said to Eiriol in particular. <<Before you go, however, I will leave you all with a secret. Just between us elves.


    <<In the coming age, a new light will come to be; one of dark origin.>>


    Eiriol¡¯s face curled into a wicked smile before she turned with a nod to drift further into campus. Meanwhile, Corym and Indra exchanged a cautious look before stepping off after her. Leaving me alone once again outside of my dorm. Well, not entirely alone.


    ¡°This energy¡­ this cold¡­ I abhor it.¡±


    ¡®Eh.¡¯ I shrugged in response to the growls echoing in my mind. ¡®You¡¯ll get used to it.¡¯


    "Yes. And then I will devour you!"


    Through my dual sight, I saw a much darker Twilight than what existed before. Rather than toiling thunder clouds in an amber sky, there was an endless sheet of black earth that sat beneath a gradient of gold to midnight blues. It was now late twilight. It was now dusk. It was the same size as before. But it was no longer empty. Now, there was a single mound of stone and gold that sat atop the black plain. Shrouding Cononthoth as she sneered in amusement.


    It was the first time we¡¯d spoken but I managed to glean a bit of information via our spiritual link. Namely, that Cononthoth was a sixteen-year-old female venerable red dragon. Barely older than me, though she wouldn¡¯t be red for long. The deal was a success. So successful that I had no need to put her in my Shadow Pocket and put the rest of the Menagerie at risk of being subjected once she could swim through the shadows as freely as they could. All the umbral energy I was sure she needed to transform was injected into her the moment we struck a bargain and evermore was pouring into her still. It came from the environment and poured through the gold, which seemed to act as a catalyst that concentrated the energy before it funneled into her. Almost like a compressor.


    Fascinating.


    "Or perhaps not." She growled out a laugh. "Fae see the Tiny Devil as their paragon. Humans fear the Tiny Devil for what he is, and rightfully so. I see the Tiny Devil is humble enough to know he should bow only to the might of a venerable red dragon- to me. This makes you more than the lowly worms who claim to rule these lands. I, Cononthoth, declare you, Tiny Devil, the only being to be blessed by the glorious shade of my wings! Never shall I bore! Ever shall my riches increase! Ad infinitum shall my name be known!"


    ''I am honored.¡¯ I internally smiled. ¡®If I may be so bold as to bestow upon you a title to commemorate our agreement?¡¯


    "I will allow it." Came the triumphant roar.


    ¡®I declare you- Cononthoth, The Exalted Gloom!¡¯ I ceremoniously declared.


    "I will give you praise for such a worthy title by inquiring of yours. Tell me now, Tiny Devil."


    ¡®Some call me the Elven Devil or the Devil of the Fae.¡¯ I mentally shrugged.


    "Fitting," Cononthoth admitted with a condescending huff. "They, however, are not worthy enough for one as dignified as I to acknowledge with incantations. But the knowledge is received, Tiny Devil."


    ¡®Tiny Devil it is then.¡¯ I sighed. Then began pulling some temporal and void mana from my well and sending them into my left eye. ¡®Now then, I¡¯ll begin dilating the time in this chamber to accelerate your growth.¡¯


    "Simple enough." Cononthoth immediately said. "Now, explain it to me. I seek entertainment."


    Gods, I may have fucked up. ¡®The rate of time will be faster inside the domain relative to the outside. Simultaneously, I¡¯ll be slowing your perception of time. I¡¯m aiming for a ratio of two years inside to six months outside. While I tend to my business here.¡¯ I waved across campus. ¡®Your body will grow normally, but you''ll experience only a few seconds of time passing.¡¯


    "You will postpone until my transformation and your ascension is complete, Tiny Devil. "Cononthoth growled with hints of displeasure from within her gilded cocoon. "Six months. Your foundation to my hoard is acceptable to sustain me until then. But you will prepare a grand feast for my rebirth. Lest you be my first morsel."


    ¡®So be it.¡¯

 172 - Reactions

    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°Hmph.¡±


    That final chortle from Eiriol shattered the silence at once. Yet Emperor Dende Morningstar stepped off before her in a flash of light, causing her to flinch in pain and throw out a curse under her breath before her pace resumed behind Titus, with Corym and Indra tailing close after. In the end, me and Olga were all that was left in the expansive courtyard. Stuck in place, frozen from fear and shock.


    ¡°What in Seventeen Hells did we just witness?¡±


    I knew it was coming. I knew it would happen. But still, I couldn¡¯t believe it. I couldn¡¯t even reply to Olga. I could only recount the madness that had just occurred and try to form it into something sensible. The dragon wasn¡¯t dead. But, it wasn¡¯t here. So¡­ it was banished. Probably.


    Hopefully.


    Aside from that, Amun threatened Titus. Twice. He insulted the Emperor, Dende Morningstar, to his face. Humiliated them both. He slapped the Emperor in the mouth with reality, and the verbal assault contained nothing but truths. Darkness was natural. Darkness was eternal. The light was fleeting, and humans clung to it desperately, raging whenever it was at risk of dying.


    Amun read him like a book. Out loud and in his face. And again, his readings were right. The Emperor, Dende Morningstar did sit atop a pillar that has stood for over a thousand years. He did think it unbreakable due to that and he did expect everyone under the sun to bow in the face of his light. He did scry and spy on Amun in order to judge him as good or evil, ally or adversary. He expected the weight of his name and the glare of the Storm King to intimidate Amun and did indeed resort to tactics far outside of his repertoire to pursue his ends. All in vain.


    Amun was nearly pushed into action. He remained unyielding in the face of the light. He was uninhibited by it entirely, somehow. And no one seemed to notice. No one but the Light himself.


    The only question now was¡­ ¡°What happens next?¡±


    ¡°Now, or later?¡± Olga wearily chuckled. But it was a valid question. There was nothing Polaris could do for now other than keep him under surveillance, lest they wanted an inter-realms conflict on their hands. Whether they did or didn¡¯t was up for debate. But it was certain they¡¯d do something in the coming years. After his work-study. During the Guildmaster course or just after it. That would be the time for them to act. But as Amun demonstrated, he would act first.


    Either way.


    ¡°The paradigm has shifted.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Look.¡± I nodded to Eiriol and the two wood elves rounding the same corner Amun disappeared from. ¡°They think he¡¯s something special. The arbiter of change or something. And quite frankly, I¡¯m starting to as well. I mean- his Sorcery aside. Himself aside, he¡¯s created a legion of monsters out of his peers. Amun was the teacher of Copper Party. Not us. Not me and Zeff at least.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Olga shook her head. ¡°No, he taught them how to hunt, kill, butcher, and cook before I could and he taught them how to make all kinds of things I''ve never even heard of. All I taught them was nomenclature. He could¡¯ve very well learned my lessons in a good library.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if he¡¯s an Archdevil or a God¡¯s champion, but the change he¡¯s bringing is here. And I think Titus just made it a change for the worst.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± She sighed. ¡°Should¡¯ve kept his fuckin¡¯ mouth shut. But all we can do is wait and see what happens. If we manage to make it through this.¡± Olga turned to me, sighing weakly. ¡°I¡¯m retiring.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I shook my head at the corner that hid Amun. ¡°There is something we can do. That I can at least.¡±


    Saying nothing more, I stepped off across the courtyard. Slowing only to give the elves distance after they¡¯d left, and emerged around the corner to see Amun lying on the wall, staring distantly through the window with an amiable smile curled up in the corner of his lips. And then he turned his cold eyes to me, disappearing his amiability at once.


    ¡°H-¡± My throat caught on something. I swallowed heavily, attempting to force it down. But failed, only mustering a meek nod while muttering. ¡°Amun.¡±


    ¡°Since when did you become so afraid of me, Doyle? Olga? That hurts, you know.¡±


    I chanced a glance at Olga and saw her standing with the same half-engaged stance as me. One foot back, body tilted to the side as if she were on the brink of fleeing for her life. ¡°S- since.¡± I turned back to him while silently cursing my stutters. ¡°Since the elves convinced me that you were¡­ special? I guess. That you will bring change.¡±


    He said nothing. Gave us no response, visual or otherwise. He only stared at us with those cold, unblinking, indifferent eyes of his until Olga stepped forward. His brow raised. Then she asked. ¡°How do you feel about¡­ humans?¡±


    Us. That was what she wanted to say. I could feel it in the deepest part of my being. Almost as if I had said it with her.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ complicated.¡± He sighed, causing a weight to fall through my stomach. ¡°I love what humans are. Contrary to popular opinion, I am human. We are wondrous idealists. Driven to provide better lives for our children than we had. Passionate in a number of things. Tenacious beyond belief. Full of conviction. Humans are natural explorers, studious scholars, and legendary warriors embodied in a singular frame. We are potential, gifted with form; capable of achieving great things in the relatively short lives we live. With a few more decades in the lifespan, humans could become one of the greatest creatures in existence.


    ¡°But.¡± He sighed. ¡°I hate what we humans can be. Slaves to our emotions. Hateful to those unlike us. Vile, even to each other. Tribalistic, animalistically so. Close-minded and stubborn. Judgmental and self-righteous. Greedy and selfish. And above all else, cruel. But worse than just cruel. Cruelty whilst feigning honor, goodness, truth, and justice.


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    ¡°I hate the Culture.¡± Amun declared with absolute finality. ¡°I hate the growth that grows without end. Consuming all it touches until nothing remains. If it wishes to spread across Nonus, that¡¯s none of my business. But I refuse to let it infect me and mine in Maru.¡±


    ¡°So you threaten that culture whenever it gets close to you?¡± Olga cried in a sudden outburst of emotion. ¡°You just threatened an Emperor!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a matter of perspective, Olga.¡± Amun laughed with a wag of his finger. ¡°I was told to change clothes and go outside the barrier to fight a creature that wound up being a fucking dragon, of all things. Which is strange, considering it was you who told us to surrender if we ever faced one. And then, I returned to change and found myself surrounded by you two, scared shitless; three elves who were a mix of anxious and excited; and two humans who clearly thought too highly of themselves glaring at me. No explanations. No introductions. No context. Only, ¡®What happened to the Bairn?¡¯ Am I wrong for being a truthful asshole in the face of ill-mannered arrogance?¡± He asked with raised brows. ¡°Or, should I have ignored the disrespect and kowtowed to him because he holds a title that means nothing to those who dwell outside of his tribe?


    ¡°No.¡± He laughed. ¡°Everyone is due common courtesy but respect is to be earned, Olga. Not given freely. But even then, I kneel to no one. Not even to my Great-Grandfather. If Dende and his dogs accept that and refrain from threatening me, or worse, threatening those I care about, I¡¯ll return to Maru and won¡¯t return to Nonus for centuries to come. But if Polaris wants to see me as an evil enemy because I slighted their Emperor then that¡¯s fine by me. I¡¯ll at least have the decency to wait until my time here is done before I go to work. In the coming times after that, however. Or should any of them try to spy on me or threaten me before then.¡± He wickedly grinned at an ambiguous point over our shoulders. ¡°I will seed chaos across their lands and bathe Polaris in lights of gold and silver.


    ¡°Should that day come, just remember that I was not the aggressor. It was the Emperor of Polaris, Dende Morningstar, who brought such a calamity upon his home.


    ¡°And, let¡¯s not forget dear Titus as well.¡±


    ***


    Mack Ronald.


    ***


    ¡°And let¡¯s not forget dear Titus as well.¡±


    ¡°BASTARD!¡±


    If it weren¡¯t for the sense of control Titus had developed over the years, I¡¯m sure his little outburst would have destroyed the acorn itself.


    He was a man of many years. We both were. Although Titus Zlock was a generation older than me, I moved up the ranks to become his equal. Though he would never see it that way. To him, Mack Ronald was forever a subordinate. To me, he was a perpetual mentor. A prime example of what not to do. Of how not to behave. Or rather, how to teeter the line of breakage.


    We were members of the old breed, but not old enough to be called old men. ¡®Aged¡¯ was more like it. Like wine or cheese or whatever it was people used to make less of their physical decline. But where he retained the unyielding traditions of times long past, I was one capable of seeing the greater picture of the coming future.


    A dandelion before a tree.


    Amun was right and it didn¡¯t even pain me to say it. The Emperor. Polaris. We brought this upon ourselves. Complacency, arrogance, and close-mindedness brought us to this point a thousand years ago. Only, the ones who realized it weren¡¯t loud enough to be heard; or if they were, they were silenced. But of course, the signs were still there for anyone with a keen enough eye to notice. They were present in both the tales of the old and the stories of the new. An exotic realm, vast and infinite, all to ourselves. All we had to do was take it.


    Take.


    We took like the first Emperor did when he slew a dragon and took over the land. Like the families of light who came after him and took what they couldn¡¯t have gotten in Maru- which was everything- others went elsewhere and took all of that. Spawning a wave of takers that lasted for thirty-eight generations and counting. We took everything and gave nothing back. Even now we take. Naturally, that evolved into us thinking we owned everything. It grew into us believing that everyone we met would adhere to our ways of thinking.


    Good.


    Evil.


    We- most of us, like Titus- like the Emperor- obsessed between the two. But a few of us, myself included, were fully aware of how dangerous such extremes could be. Yet such thoughts had to be silenced, for if one suggested that standing too close to the ¡®sacred¡¯ light made one blind to many things, it would not end well.


    ¡°Who the fuck does he think he is!?!¡± Having no target, Titus lashed out at the table next to him. Shattering it to dust and wooden shards in a childish display of frustration.


    It was only a matter of time. All the skeptics agreed on that. The most favored conspiracy theory in Polaris was that the families of light thought themselves untouchable because none who would stand against them were immune to their power. That had remained true since before the portals opened. But all it ever took was a single person outside of their family to be granted immunity to the light. Then everything they stood for would come crumbling down before them. The sad part of the theory was that no actions would be needed on the anomaly¡¯s part. Polaris, in their fear, would strike first.


    It was sad back then. When I heard it at least. Now, it was bittersweet.


    The families of light, of course, always thought it impossible. Now, it was reality. And no being was a worse candidate for possessing that power, in their eyes, than him. I had no proof, of course, but I knew it to be true. Amun. A being, in most people¡¯s eyes, who was the worst possible candidate to be immune to the light, was. And with Titus and the Emperor¡¯s stoking of the fire, the wrath of an undying shadow army and whatever power the half-drow had hidden up his sleeve was now aimed at all of Polaris.


    Now, the situation equated to: Take the slap and walk away; or, fight back and risk losing everything.


    The dragon was inconsequential at this point. The danger was now the crown itself. Takers never walked away from what they thought was theirs. And so, the Darkworld below Polaris was all but guaranteed to be infested by creatures of the night over the coming years, decades, or centuries. But that I could deal with. ¡®Lights of gold and silver.¡¯ Those words bothered me the most. Not because of the implied threat, but because of the Emperor¡¯s reaction to them. Because of the angst he hid until those very words met his ears, I was worried. Because of his reaction to that angst, I was concerned. Concerned enough to change the perspective on my scrying screen to look in the place I knew him to be. In Baker Party¡¯s courtyard. Talking to his son.


    I could practically hear their conversation based on Lance¡¯s expression. He was horrified, staring down at his father¡¯s boots with wide eyes as he kneeled. Dripping cold sweat onto the tiled stone from his shaking.


    "Embarrass him as he did me."


    At that moment, I did not see the Dende Morningstar, known and beloved and feared far and wide as the Holy Emperor of Polaris. I only saw a scared man forcing his child to do what he couldn¡¯t- or wouldn¡¯t do himself.


    ***


    Headmaster Zorrenor Knagh.


    ***


    ¡°So, this is it.¡±


    While the obsessive humans of Light were fussing over the Darkest Devil, the true Plague remained hidden beneath their eyes and would remain so for some time to come.


    I could still see it as I gazed out my northern window. The Void that beckoned the end. The Night that would consume me. So too could I see what was to come. Tainted by the corrupted energies of the Darkworld, the first blighted plant would soon spread to the entirety of the Wilds before it and rise to the height of the mountains beyond. For the Tree of Void had carved a vertical tunnel that loomed deeper than my roots could ever have hoped to reach. It made a veritable portal to the Darkworld on the breach of my territory and the Scourge¡¯s alike.


    Drow. Duergar. Oculi and others. Whether Polaris acted against Amun or not, all sorts of foul creatures would soon be drawn to the surface by the baleful light and spread across Nonus in its entirety.


    And then there was the matter of what I heard through the roots.


    ¡°Cononthoth. A venerable red, reborn as a venerable shadow. A new type of dragon, spawned by a devil. Accelerated in growth and perpetuated in life.


    ¡°How unfair.¡±

 173 - Avatar Pete

    ¡®Why did I choose to follow him?


    Why do some choose to watch the sun rise and fall? They may tell you that the sight is beautiful. That it inspires hope. That it is nostalgic. Invokes peace.


    Regardless of the answer they give you. The reality is that they have no idea why they do it.


    The same is true for me. I have no idea. Other than I simply wanted to.


    Though I will tell you that he saved me. He- like he¡¯s done for countless others- liberated me. Not from a set of manacles or the heel of an oppressor, but from myself.


    ¡®Know yourself. Always seek self-improvement.¡¯


    More than magic. More than martial technique. More than philosophy or science. That was the most important lesson he taught me. Those two rules served to break me from my shell and remove it from my back.


    But that is not why I follow him.


    It is not because he saved me from myself. It is not because he guided me to my potential. Neither is it because he is one of the few who are both powerful and honorable. Nor is it for any of the following reasons.


    He commands respect, but he does not demand it from his subjects. He earns it. He is the guidepost that leads to freedom. He is the key that unshackles oppression. He is the bane of the vile. Hope for the dreary. He is good. He is evil.


    But that is not why I or anyone else chose to march through the night behind him.


    We march because we are all selfish. Just like him. We march because we don¡¯t care about being labeled as saviors or sinners; heroes or villains. We follow him because he has dreams of bringing great change to the Mortal Plane and will help us achieve ours in exchange.


    So then, the question to ask is: What is my dream?


    Like a few others, I have none. Other than witnessing the change to come.


    I have no dreams. Other than being a part of the unending march.


    Because by marching, I¡¯m able to influence the work that leads to change. Thus I can make my own change in this cruel world.


    Now then, I ask you: Why do you march?¡¯


    Excerpt from ¡®The Journey of Realms.¡¯ - O.E.M.P.B.


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    Perhaps it was due to my recent time in the library, but when Peter spun wildly on his heels in response to my call I almost didn¡¯t recognize him. He was still on the shorter side, but his already toned body had built up a decent amount of mass in the time that we¡¯d been here. His skin, still tanned and leathery, received a much-needed break thanks to the expansive forest around us and the lotions and creams Zakira demanded he use liberally.


    Now, he could easily pass as someone of his social standing. A Bodhi Tree Page. His hair was greased and tied back into a ponytail, showing off the windshield forehead and beaming eyes he usually kept hidden behind his curls. Although, parts of the old him were still there. Specifically, the wide smile as he began skipping toward me. But I quickly halted him with a raised hand.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you later.¡±


    He stopped at once and nodded with a small grunt.


    ¡°Believe in yourself, Pete.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± He smiled. ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± I grinned. ¡°I believe in you too. So don¡¯t hold back. Ever.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    With a final nod, Peter trotted off to the crystal to grab his fans and went off through the portal without a look back. Leaving me to sigh a final time before stepping inside to face the music.


    ¡°AMUN!¡±


    Zakira pounced on me like a spider monkey the moment I entered. Followed by the rest of my party approaching in waves with their probing questions.


    ¡°Your courage knows no bounds!¡± Slate stepped forth with a brew of honey tea cupped in his hands.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°So, what happened?¡± Scarlett asked.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to kill the dragon so I banished it.¡±


    ¡°Banished?¡± Her head recoiled in confusion.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded and caught a suspicious look from Urshure as I turned to find a seat. ¡°Disappeared it from the Mortal Plane.¡±


    ¡°They said it was a red Wyrmling!¡± Samson exclaimed while pointing to Peter, on his screen. ¡°Sixteen years old and that powerful! I¡¯d have shat my pants!¡±


    "Yes," Cononthoth growled with pleasure. "Roasted on the spot, he would have been. All of them. Except for the scaled one, perhaps. He would be mine."


    ¡®Eating my family and subordinates isn¡¯t a part of our deal.¡¯ I snorted in turn. ¡®Me or anyone else, however, is fair game.¡¯


    "This ¡®moon¡¯ you spoke of. What is it?"


    ¡®I¡¯m sure one as mighty as the Exalted Gloom senses it?¡¯ I mentally chortled while placating my classmates. ¡®The divinity that lies dormant inside me? It will awaken once I complete my ritual, for I am Amun. Champion of the Creator, Telin. Anyone not blessed by me is fair game for you to eat.¡¯


    Looking through my eye from my Twilight Domain, Cononthoth studied my peers for but a fraction of a second before emitting a condescending huff. "And these among you will be¡­ blessed?" She asked.


    ¡®Most of them.¡¯ I nodded. ¡®Take this one for example.¡¯ I turned my gaze towards the screens. ¡®He was a coward when I met him just six months ago. He was a former slave who let those in high society step on him even after he obtained power and freedom. I implore you to observe him as he is now, Cononthoth. Watch him as he fights and tell me what you see.''


    "My observation stems from curiosity alone, Tiny Devil.¡± She spat in my mind. ¡®Remember that!¡±


    ¡®I¡¯ll never forget.¡¯ I rolled my eyes, then turned my focus to Peter, standing alone in a vast desert.


    Across the sandpits and dunes, his eyes traced for moments and minutes until he snapped into motion.


    Leaning down, he took off his shoes and stored them in his bag before sliding his feet across the sand. Carefully, and cautiously, he slid forward to sense the subtle vibrations in the sand to map out the environment. Then he squatted. With his muscles already bolstered with mana, dull-gray energy then began to form around Peter¡¯s feet and the sand reacted at once. Congealing and condensing into a platform of solid stone that launched him into the sky.


    The boulder mana continued building in his feet as Peter rose, reached his apex, and reached a critical mass as he began falling like a meteor onto his small court. Like an incorporeal bunker buster, the mana shot into the ground without resistance to detonate somewhere far below ground. Sending first a rumble to the surface that quickly crescendoed to an implosion of sand, rock, and a guttural scream echoing from somewhere within the chasm.


    While the ground began cascading into the new aquifer carved into the bedrock, Peter¡¯s pillar remained standing tall. He stood atop it, fans in hand as he spun in a majestic dance that entranced the winds themselves. With one spin on his heels, his fans followed and looped around him. Creating a temporary vacuum that pulled the surrounding air into a powerful gale around him. Pulling sand, stone, and dust into a billowing mushroom cloud that spread into the sky. Another spin and a dust devil of colossal proportions ensued to erase the surrounding dunes from where they stood.


    A dip. A rise. Another spin. Another guttural scream echoed from not as far below loomed as the gale evolved into a tornado. Yet, deep within the eye, Peter kept spinning. He kept dancing. His fans kept calling for more and more winds to spin around his pillar until the bedrock itself was exposed and a living, screaming tunnel was pulled forth from the ground.


    ¡°Long time no see.¡± I chortled.


    ¡°Ah!¡± Winston exclaimed from a nearby corner. "So you¡¯ve seen the Epethian Crawler? That¡¯s a surprise.¡± He laughed. ¡°Considering you fly around everywhere.¡±


    ¡°I have.¡± I nodded at both him and the hundreds of meters-long worm screaming from within the tornado. ¡°Roheisa was going to kill it.¡±


    ¡°She should¡¯ve.¡± He huffed.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure someone else will take care of it.¡± I shrugged.


    Winston stayed silent. He only flicked his eyes between the cyclone spinning in excess of 200 meters per second and Peter, still spinning with a slow grace atop his platform until he took a sudden dip. Then Winston¡¯s eyes remained on Peter as he rose into a spin to produce a roaring serpent made of magical blue flames.


    Enriched by the potent winds, the serpent spiraled and spun until it began expanding and eventually merged with the tempest entirely. If the sandworm was now screaming, it was but a whisper when compared to the infernal rage of Peter¡¯s tempest. In blues and whites and reds, the tornado shone from ground to sky to flash the clouds to steam and melt the sand to glass while somewhere within, the beast burned to cinders.


    We couldn¡¯t see it, but Peter must have noticed it, as he suddenly ceased his rotation to begin swaying both his body and his fans back and forth. Side to side while his arms pulled a deluge into a figure eight around him. For seconds onto minutes, the interlude pressed on until the dance resumed with a sudden sweeping rise of his fan.


    Like a living geyser, the deluge mimicked Peter¡¯s dance and rocketed into the sky to be swept away into a fine spray of water and steam. The fire tornado was doused in an instant. Transformed into a steam-filled hurricane of epic proportions. Yet Peter kept sweeping his arms upward. Adding more and more water to the hurricane until the steam turned to a drizzle and then on to rain and sleet and hail.


    The half-glass half-sand that had been Peter¡¯s surroundings was soon caked into mud and swept away into the chasm, forming drains and canals for the violent downpour to converge and pour into a new oasis until suddenly, Peter reversed his movements. His fan was pulled down and around into a single counter-clockwise spin that served to instantly calm the storm in a violent shockwave of water and mud. What was left was Peter, breathing heavily atop his pillar of stone while glass chunks and sand patties and a downpour of nearly biblical proportions rained around him.


    "Hmph." Cononthoth huffed from within her den. "He is puny and weak. But his skill is worth praise."


    ¡®I¡¯m in the process of leading all of them to their potential,¡¯ I said through my domain while looking out at my Party. ¡®I gave them knowledge and wisdom. Many of them have expressed interest in joining me already. Like this one.¡¯ I turned to Zakira.


    "Your lover?"


    ¡®Somewhat. Our relationship is more or less open until I¡¯ve accomplished my goals in exploring the realms. After that.¡¯ I sighed. ¡®I¡¯ll be having a kid with her.¡¯


    "Good," Cononthoth growled, curiously so.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Zakira said. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go change. But¡­¡± Pausing, she leaned close to whisper in my ear. ¡°What should I call you while I pray?¡±


    ¡°Uh.¡± I tapped at my chin for a few seconds before shrugging. ¡°How about Mani?¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡±

 174 - Blood Stain

    ''If my later life was a dream, early life was a nightmare.


    It started like all nightmares. Happy and colorful, until it wasn¡¯t. It became a vast cave filled with blistering heat. Then¡­ cold, dark tunnels.


    Endless tunnels.


    Dangerous tunnels.


    Or so I thought.


    After days, weeks, and months, I eventually emerged from the Darkness below the realms and emerged to see the light for the first time. And from there, the nightmare grew worse


    Feared what I was. Hated for my needs. I only knew struggle.


    Danger.


    Years and years were spent alone. On the run or in hiding. Struggling between feeding myself and enduring starvation for the sake of basking in the warmth of a hateful hearth.


    Day in and day out. Walking without rest or pause. Sometimes running. Never resting.


    Days. Weeks. Months.


    Running. Fighting. Surviving.


    Endlessly. Tirelessly.


    And then I was found. Or rather, recovered. An old friend left the comfort of our home out of concern. She made the same journey I made out of sheer love. She made another like us to help us in those foreign lands.


    Things got better, for a time.


    Then they got worse. Much, much worse.


    Everything tripled. The hate. The loneliness. The shame.


    I grew to resent it. I grew to resent it all. Myself. My life. My nightmarish dream. My dreamy nightmare.


    I just wanted it all to end. To sleep and never wake up.


    I wanted my life to end. Until, suddenly, I found myself wanting to live forever.


    I needed to live forever.


    Fate.


    Maybe it was fate that gave us the chance to start anew.


    Or¡­ destiny.


    Maybe it was our destiny to hear tales of a fantastical place where all creatures were accepted.


    Or¡­ we were guided. By something, we were inspired to travel. So we did.


    More days. More weeks. More months. We traveled, we were tested, and eventually, we arrived.


    And then, at long lost, I found it. I found him.


    He was hope personified. Wonder manifest. Freedom incarnate. The Sovereign of my people. And much more.


    I put faith in his acceptance of me and was blessed with a family.


    I had faith that he would guide me and was blessed with a home.


    I had faith that he could achieve his dreams and lead me- all of us, to achieving ours.


    I had faith that he would keep us free in both life and death.


    All along, I had faith. So when he asked me to pray to him, I knew I wasn¡¯t crazy. I was relieved. I had no choice but to believe what I knew deep down in my heart to be true.


    Amun is my best friend, my eternal love, and much, much more. But above all, he is my God.


    And my God is Eternal.


    Diary of the Silver-Skinned Lady. Entry #1.


    ***


    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    Controlled chaos.


    If there was any way to describe the state of the Cap upon my return, that was it. Fear, curiosity, joy, and indignation filled the room as much as air did. The dragon was outside of everyone''s concern for the moment. As was the case with Amun. In one way or another, each and every one of us was stunned to the core.


    The former slave, Peter Boyd, was a monster with a mere Slush Well. And nearly everyone here thought I was the one responsible for his prowess. But a few of us- Olga, Abbot Eiriol, Corym, Indra, and perhaps those affiliated with the light- knew who trained the monsters of Copper Party. But the truth was almost more than our eyes could believe.


    I, for one, couldn¡¯t help but keep my gaze held on the transformed landscape. A true and true oasis. But before I knew it, the screen switched again to reveal another monster.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Controlled chaos.


    That was also Zakira. She was the only one Amun seemed to have limitless patience for. Although he didn¡¯t view her as the lover everyone thought her to be. Nor as a sibling or even as a friend, strangely enough. She was just¡­ there. And he accepted her presence without question. What that did to her was my and everyone¡¯s guess, but it served to free her from whatever cocoon she formed around her. Now, she was going through a metamorphosis, and what would emerge would be something able to follow the Elven Devil to the edge of the Mortal Plane and back.


    Of that, I was sure.


    ¡°Ahem. Z-¡±


    ¡°Oh, Mani!¡± Zeff¡¯s introduction of the young vampire was interrupted by her shouting, pulling everyone¡¯s eyes to the nearest screen at once. Zakira was dressed in a set of plated off-white armor with red accents. Her helmet was missing, exposing her bulbous crimson eyes that lovingly gazed up at a bottle of a silvery red liquid smeared with dark red swirls. I felt my heart falter as her mace, held loosely at her left side, blurred with motion. And she cried again. ¡°Oh, Mani!¡±


    ¡°Oh, dear,¡± I muttered. Corym and Indra may have well too. I knew what it was. They knew what it was. Many of the guilds within the Optimus Regni knew too. But what none of us knew was who or what this Mani she was calling out to was or what kind of ritual she was trying to perform.


    As what could only have been unicorn blood mixed with Amun''s spilled down her brow, Zakira let her arms fall to allow the divine blood to flow from her shoulders to her hands before she lifted them to clasp them in prayer. ¡°Oh, Mani!¡± She shouted to the heavens a third time. ¡°I pray that you keep me free for the rest of my days! May you watch over me as I travel the realms, guided by your silver light as I spread the glory that is your name! Grant me your unmerciful strength so that I can make rainfall out of the blood of the tyrant! Bless me with your infinite knowledge so that I may liberate the oppressed!


    ¡°Oh, my glorious Mani!¡± She shouted with the full zeal of a priestess or cleric. ¡°I ask for your eternal love! Hear my prayer and grant me the blessings of the Moon, wreathed in vengeful blood.¡±


    Unbridled chaos.


    ¡°Did she mispronounce that?¡± Someone from Stellaris shuddered out a gasp. ¡°Or did my ears ring true?¡±


    Meanwhile, someone from Graystone asked what many were thinking. ¡°What¡¯s¡­ the moon?¡±


    Sinestro himself declared the answer many wished to keep hidden. ¡°Amun?¡±


    ¡°Is she¡­ praying to him?¡± The Purists asked as one.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of Mani.¡± Someone from Rex Magica thought aloud before waving off one of her subordinates to find out ¡°Is that a lesser God? Find out which pantheon that is!¡±


    Meanwhile, Abbot Eiriol erupted in a fit of nefarious laughter. ¡°Oh, this is becoming quite fascinating indeed!¡±


    ¡°Just what in the Seventeen Hells is going on?¡± I muttered.


    ¡°Is that¡­ unicorn blood?¡±


    ¡°Obviously!¡±


    On and on and on the pandemonium continued until Zakira stepped through the portal with silken strings of crimson and silver trailing after her, at which time a pervasive silence seemed to crawl into the room from the many screens found throughout before chaos ensued once again.


    She was slated to face a ghoul. But we or Zakira never even saw it. She only took a single step through the portal to hold her mace overhead and shouted to the heavens while the liters of unicorn blood gushed into her weapon. Then, with a blood-curdling scream, she struck the ground with enough force to make one think it truly contained the power of divinity.


    The ground below her shattered in tune with a deafening explosion before a heart of red energy cascaded through the ground. Into fissures and crevasses alike, the blood-infused mana forced its way into wherever it could to blow apart in the ground and made way for the next wave to expand in a devastating surge that upturned trees, rent the flesh of nearby creatures, and twisted their remains into a hellish web of meaty tendrils that lay strewn across the environment. And from somewhere within the lingering fog and gut-wrenching webs of flesh, a ghoulish scream could be heard crying out before it fell to the same silence of the bloodied forest.


    ¡°Oh, Mani!¡± She¡­ sobbed. Then stood to clasp her mace before her chest and sob again. ¡°Thank you!¡± So sobbing, she raised her weapon overhead a final time and the stomach-churning environment responded with a lurch in her direction before tiny strings began to detach from the mass.


    Like streams dripping into a depression, the strings converged on her weapon and condensed into an opalescent heart of reds that ranged from silver to burgundy. As it grew larger and larger, the broken trees and loosed stone and the flesh and bones of various small animals clattered to the floor in an ever-expanding wave of destruction until eventually, Zakira was left holding a sphere of blood that was as big around as a barrel of ale.


    Naturally, watching her drink the whole thing produced mixed levels of disgust from those of us watching. Some threw up. Others were abhorred at the thought of a vampire drinking the blood of a unicorn and several other powerful creatures. A few were in fear over how much power her meal had just given her. Others, like me, were trying to either lie or come to terms with who she was praying to. Amun.


    ¡°Is that what she¡¯s calling him now?¡± I laughed in disbelief.


    They were all monsters. From Winston down to Urshure, all of Copper Party was monstrous. Even Slate and Elsgril. The latter was sent to the coast to fight a young dragon turtle and the first thing he did upon seeing it was erupt in laughter. Then he stored his claymore inside his satchel of hoarding before charging with a manic scream. He dove right into the beast''s mouth as if he were diving into a pool. The scrying point on his clothes went dark at that point, but we listened on in horror as Slate¡¯s manic cackling rose in tune with the squelching and slicing and squishing sounds echoing from within the thrashing creature until eventually, there was light. From another perspective, we saw the beast swimming peacefully below the waves. At first. Then, it began thrashing. Swaying with wild abandon into the rocks and sea bed until a gray wedge appeared from within its belly and crawled across its scales to its neck. And out from the disemboweled dragon turtle came a mana-bolstered Slate, swimming frantically up to the surface before he drowned.


    Elsgril, on the other hand, was sent into a cave to fight a giant spider but walked through the place as if he had the mind to carve the tunnels into a grand hall. He didn¡¯t even pause when the webs started to coat the floors and walls. He only lit a torch and continued muttering to himself while swaying his head this way and that and tossing oil and dwarven whiskey flasks down the hall as he went. The same tactics were employed once he reached the spider¡¯s den. His flasks were aimed at the hundreds of clusters of eggs and the mother herself while he threw torches and leather bags at the walls and support pillars. Then he turned to run like an imp out of the Hells.


    His sudden change in demeanor caused quite a commotion from the spectators, up until whatever it was in the last pouch he threw combusted.


    Almost as if a giant was dancing on the ground above, the cave shook with tremendous force before the shockwave slammed into Elsgril¡¯s back. He was thrown meters down the hall and onto his face. But he picked himself up without pause and resumed sprinting as fast as he could to the exit before a wall of fire engulfed the screens. We were left holding our breath for a few long moments after that. Staring at the whipping hands of fire as they slowly died down to smoke. When the perspective shifted at last, it revealed a soot-covered dwarf standing at the edge of a burning cave. A flask tilted up to his mouth while his beady eyes smiled at the canvas he so desperately wanted to work on.


    "They¡¯re all crazy."

 175 - Comedown

    Abbot Eiriol.


    ***


    Peter Boyd. Human. Sixteen years of age. Former slave. Strong physique. Lacks proper martial and magical training. Inexperienced in combat. Cowardly and meek.


    That was not what I just witnessed.


    <<They are all exceptional.>> I said to no one in particular, though the twins heard me. <<For non-elves.>>


    They heard me as well. And as always, they threw scorn my way upon hearing of a tongue foreign to their ears. They- rightfully so, assumed the words were whips that lashed out at their prominence. It was an object of bemusement to any elf. Like watching the strange behavior of a dog chasing its own tail. Utter foolishness. But amusing all the same. Some of them, however, held traces of speculative fear in their gazes. Including the dear twins.


    <<Is this the Champion¡¯s way? To rid the realms of purity and make monsters out of meek men?>> Corym shuddered.


    <<What would be your alternative?>> I chortled. <<To kill and raise every man he meets? To destroy everything he sees?>>


    <<Of course, you are eager.>> His sister spat. <<Eager to spin the Champion and this boy into your web.>>


    <<I would nor could do anything of the sort.>> I huffed. <<Champion or no Champion, my job is to teach and nothing more. It seems the two of you have yet to learn that even still. That all we can do is, as they say, sit back and enjoy the show. It shall not take long.>>


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    A part of this was nice. Academia. Being with those my biological age while I learned about magic. That I loved. I had grown close to many of my classmates as a result. The times like these, when we sat around and enjoyed each other¡¯s company were valuable to me. It was one of the times I chose to sit back and smell the proverbial roses. However, the sense of confinement I was still feeling despite my coming of age, that I hated. That, I was tired of.


    My wanderlust was getting to me. It had been getting to me for years- for over a decade now and counting. That said, staying in this place wasn¡¯t without its merits. Studying at the Bodhi Tree not only led to intellectual growth, my evolution, and more allies; but it also led to war. And like most things, I considered war neither good nor bad; just nor evil. War simply was. It was an inevitability of life. The only differences between animals fighting over territory, food, or mating rights and sentient beings fighting over borders, ideologies, or transgressions were the scale of destruction and the forced involvement of bystanders. A fair trade-off for being the dominant species, in my opinion.


    To that end, humanoid tribes dominated entire swaths of land from the skies to the Darkworld. It was only fair for war to touch the hearts of their tribes in return. Having no enemies on my radar, I assumed my war wouldn¡¯t come until my guild had been created. A slight misstep on my part, perhaps. But now, I had no choice but to start making plans and putting them into action. Luckily, I got the perfect time to do so when Els returned from his encounter and the party collectively decided to retire for the day. Like many of them, I turned away from the midday sun to tuck myself in my room with Zakira. With a bit of her help, I spent hours toiling around in Terranaut, Lapland, and BluLine to create the perfect worlds for my future followers to dwell in next year. And then I got down to business.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I sighed. ¡°So, I¡¯m gonna tell everyone later, but I want you to be the first to know.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Zakira turned to me with beaming eyes at once and grasped my hands firmly.


    ¡°Long story short, there was some sort of ploy involved in me fighting that dragon. The Emperor of Polaris appeared in the courtyard when I returned. He was rude to me, so I was rude back. One of his dogs threatened me, so I threatened him back. Twice.¡± I winked. ¡°And now, the humans of Polaris think I¡¯m evil and dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± She let out a curious deflated sigh. ¡°That¡¯s not surprising.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded. ¡°And I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they try and do something about it either now or later. Regardless, I¡¯m not going to sit around and just wait for it to happen. I mean, even Doyle is afraid of me now.¡±


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    ¡°Awe!¡± She melted in place. ¡°But he¡¯s so nice!¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I sighed again. ¡°It does hurt, but I¡¯m still going to use his fear to my advantage and find out what we¡¯ll be doing next semester. After that, I¡¯m going to start accepting loyalty pledges for my guild and begin training our classmates until we evolve. It''ll be in the form of a deal so there''ll be no chance of betrayal on either end. We¡¯ll be training with my undead. Every day for the next six months.¡±


    ¡°Pshh!¡± she waved the matter off. ¡°That won¡¯t be hard.¡±


    ¡°And learning,¡± I added with a sly grin. ¡°You¡¯ll be doing a lot of learning.¡±


    If Zakira had bunny ears, they would¡¯ve drooped down at the sound of my words. Her eyes, dark burgundy in the twilight of my room, looked to be on the verge of tears while she slowly shook her head. As if to silently say. ¡®Anything but that.¡¯


    But I only smiled and nodded with sadistic pleasure. ¡°Yes. On top of that, I¡¯ll be introducing my undead to everyone and have them work around the Cove full-time. I¡¯ll also be sending a few of them to the Darkworld to find some mithral and adamantine so I can start crafting things for everyone. One of those things will be a holy symbol for you.¡± I paused to give her a warm smile. ¡°Have faith in me when I say the truth will soon be revealed. But more than anything, I need you to keep praying.¡± I grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently. ¡°Next year, when we go to the south, your and everyone else¡¯s mission will be to gather allies. Subordinates, minions, friends, a family- whatever you want to call them. it doesn''t matter. Gather people.¡± I shook her again. ¡°I don¡¯t care if they¡¯re human, vampire, goblin, or what. If they want to join us, if they want to be free, we¡¯ll bring them a home they can be proud of. You all will educate them as I will educate you. They¡¯ll learn how to protect themselves. How to think for themselves. And we will protect them from those who think like those of Polaris. We¡¯ll do the same to those we meet during our work studies in the following year. And if Polaris wants to go to war at any point throughout.¡± I sighed. ¡°We will.¡±


    ¡°But... you don¡¯t want to.¡±


    It was a statement more than it was a question, yet I still shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t. I have more important things to do in Maru. But I will I have to.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t either.¡± She clasped my hand in hers before giving me a warm, fanged smile. ¡°But, I already told you. I¡¯ll follow you anywhere.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I leaned in to tap our foreheads together. ¡°I am the Eternal Champion,¡± I whispered. ¡°I am your God, Zakira. I¡¯ll have proof of such a claim, come my evolution. But have faith in me when I say it''s true.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡± She wrapped her arms around me.


    ¡°The power of the Gods comes from faith,¡± I said, hugging her back. ¡°As the one with the most faith in me, you will one day evolve into my first Cleric. That, I promise.¡± Her embrace tightened at that point, forcing me to pause for a short moment. ¡°Change.¡± I gasped, forcing her to reel back in confusion.


    ¡°Knowledge.¡± I continued. ¡°Freedom. Self-sufficiency. Nature. Duality. These are my core values and tenets, dictated by how I¡¯ve lived. They are represented by my moonlight.¡± I palmed her shoulders once again to whisper. ¡°But there is also Twilight. It embodies the reflection one experiences at the end of a journey, be it a grand adventure, one¡¯s life, or the passing day. It represents the time of rest and festivities that comes after work. It embodies mystique and uncertainty due to its ability to conceal. And, it represents¡­ Gloom.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like Opal to pray to Twilight,¡± I said. ¡°But of course, I want her to choose for herself.¡±


    ***


    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    There was an eerie sense of peace in the Cap now that the awaited day had come and gone. Even among us teachers and instructors, the air was stiff with a mundane silence that teetered the edge of boredom. It wasn¡¯t that Samson and Kaolinite¡¯s fights weren¡¯t up to par, it was just their fighting styles were things we¡¯d all seen hundreds of times before. All blades and little magic. So too was Scarlett¡¯s display of the conjuration magic her family was known for. It was worth watching, but nothing that made any discussion. Rebecca too. Though the handling of her plasma served to surprise her family, it was something everyone from Sirius and Polaris Central had seen at least once.


    Samson and Kaolinite were going to the Fighting House to become a Battle Mage and Fighting Champion respectively, something that prompted nothing more than a slight interest on Naki¡¯s part and a little bit of pride from me. On the other hand, Scarlett would undoubtedly follow her family¡¯s wishes and become a Druid, but her evident devotion to Amun was unknown to her family and a potential concern for Indra. Corym, though, was undoubtedly concerned about Rebecca becoming a Ranger. At least while she was in the expansive forests and grasslands of the Rhar Kingdom. Her ranging was more suited to the volcanic badlands within the mountains. A place the wood elves seldom favored going.


    For all their merits and all their improvements, they were but an afterthought to the spectators. Myself included. For better or worse, however, that ended with the last encounter of the day and the conclusion of the solo encounters.


    As a dragonborne, Urshure was inherently a Sorcerer. Though he openly claimed to want to move down the path of the Warlock on more than one occasion. Being a red, winged dragonborne gave anyone who heard of his ambitions the immediate assumption that wished to earn the grace of Tiamat. That alone was enough to put him at the height of Polaris¡¯ shit list. Right under Amun. But chronologically before the half-devil.


    Almost like some crude joke, they added a wyvern to the list with the certainty that it¡¯d be placed against the dragonborne. Urshure was not amused, though he ripped the beast apart all the same.


    Without mercy, he skittered up the creature¡¯s hind leg and tore into its underbelly with maw and claw to rip and pry apart its skin. Then reeled back to inflate the wyvern¡¯s hide with scorching fire before he crawled inside to begin hacking his way through the mouth. After a gory replay of Slate¡¯s encounter, the dragonborne emerged a bloodied mess and sent a monstrous roar to the heavens. Then stretched his wings and took off.

 176 - I Like Big Buttes

    Amun.


    ***


    A knock came to the dorms around an hour after Urshure returned from his encounter. Behind the door was Doyle, pale in the skin and breathing shakily as he entered and trailed his eyes around the room to find me. Then he swallowed hard.


    ¡°If you¡¯d gather everyone in the courtyard, I¡¯ll belay the instructions for the coming days.¡± He turned for the door without another word and the party, already gathered in the common room, poured out after him to line themselves up in a neat formation.¡°Alright.¡± He sighed deeply. ¡°First off, congratulations on making it this far. Everyone¡¯s exceedingly impressed by your performances. But it''s not over yet. Tomorrow marks the start of the team battles. But to make matters clear, this is a simulation of war. In one hour, we¡¯ll go through the portal to make camp at the battlegrounds. You may do some scouting or fortify your territory throughout the night, but the fighting won¡¯t commence until six in the morning.


    ¡°The objective will be threefold.¡± He raised his fingers. ¡°First, you must keep your territory from being destroyed. Second, you must incapacitate the other Parties. And the third is optional. To destroy their territories. If none of those conditions are met, The team with the most standing members by midnight wins. If there are no questions, you have forty-five minutes to gather up your gear and meet me at the crystal. That¡¯s all.¡±


    An extended smoke break later and we emerged near the edge of a water-filled sinkhole surrounded by a temperate forest.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Doyle spread his arms around the place and dropped them to slap to his sides. ¡°Welcome to camp. You can set up shop anywhere between the top or base of this pillar. And, as I said, you may scout around. But you may not attack or enter the territory of another party.¡±


    ¡°Pillar?¡± I wondered aloud, then turned to kick off the ground for a better view.


    Upon ascending, I came to realize our camp sat atop one of three towering buttes overlooking a vast steppe. Using my beacon on the Cove and the Bodhi Tree¡¯s position, I worked out we were thousands upon thousands of kilometers east of the former and an equidistance north of the latter. Placing it inside the Wilds, rather than the South. The buttes themselves were the points of an equilateral triangle with sides at least 30 kilometers apart. Forming the only feature other than grass for as far as even my unaided eyes could see.


    Even with spatial magic, it was easy to forget the true scale of the Mortal Plane. The Southern Peninsula alone was a cigar-shaped landmass that stretched further than Earth was wide. The North was no exception. Neither was Maru. Relative to the Sol System, the Mortal Plane began around Mercury¡¯s orbit and extended beyond the orbit of Saturn. Over 9 Astronomical Units of land and seas, stretched out into a disk around the sun with a thickness of at least 1.4 million kilometers.


    Not even I would be able to break such a thing, I realized. So there was no reason for me to hold back.


    Furthermore, I liked this place. This butte was like a colossal termite mound with a forest on top. It was an arcology waiting to be constructed. And all I wanted to do at that moment was build it. Using an accelerated perception of time- Frame Jacking, as they called it on the outside, I did just that and designed a castle, a fortress rather, to be used until further notice. It went without saying, but I wanted to live in this place. And I had just the plan to make it mine.


    That, however, had to come later. So for now, I returned to the sinkhole to find Scarlett had made a trampoline over it with her webs and had been awaiting my return.


    ¡°Hey!¡± She raced up to me, beaming. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± I sighed. ¡°My undead are going to scout out the place and make some fortifications. That leaves us free to do what we want for the night. You can join them or relax.¡± I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s up to you.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± She looked around, nodding. ¡°Where are they?¡±


    ¡°Right here.¡± I swept my arm out to my side. And out from my shadow came my third and fourth undead. ¡°This is my first sentient undead.¡± I gestured towards the Draugr.


    ¡°Zaraxus.¡± He lowered his head in greeting, though Scarlett and mostly everyone else took an unconscious step back.


    ¡°And this is my first Shadow Undead.¡± I gestured to the burly woman made of darkness. ¡°Lana.¡±


    ¡°Hi!¡± Zakira immediately approached her with an outstretched hand. ¡°You¡¯re pretty!¡±


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    ¡°She can¡¯t talk yet,¡± I said following Lana¡¯s beaming smile. Then released the rest of my undead to send them on their way.


    The Bobs got started at once, making stockpile zones and drafting plans, and, in some cases, asking my classmates about their preferences for camp. The ones that weren¡¯t present to be asked had either joined the undead to scout or resumed lounging as they were before.


    Doyle, on the other hand, was keeping his distance from me. He was on the other side of the sinkhole. Facing away into the forest while he sucked on yet another cigarette. He was still afraid of me. Which didn¡¯t make me happy, if I were to be honest. I liked Doyle. But I wouldn¡¯t let the advantage slip away before I could make use of it, so I spawned an Artificial Well to drag myself over to him.


    ¡°Tell me if I¡¯m wrong.¡± I paused to come to a landing and forced down my laughter at his jerk reaction. ¡°We¡¯ll have evolved our Spiritual Bodies come the end of this year and will be sent off to the South to power-level our Classes under guidance from Instructors like Abbot Eiriol. We¡¯ll then be sent to work with other guilds in the year after. I¡¯m guessing this brooch will be used to give us access to campus and let you all monitor our health while we¡¯re studying abroad?¡± I held a long pause while he stared at the brooch in question, then pulled his eyes back to mine by placing the half-acorn in my pocket. ¡°In other words, we technically won¡¯t be students at the Bodhi Tree anymore. Nor will the Bodhi Tree be entirely responsible for our actions. We¡¯ll be Novices once we complete the ritual. That''s to say. We¡¯ll be graduating once we evolve. Correct?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯m surprised.¡± Doyle chuckled weakly before taking a long drag. ¡°But you¡¯re right. All students have the choice to leave or stay at the end of each year. If you want to leave after evolving, you can.¡± He nodded. ¡°But you won¡¯t get access to the southern peninsula to power level your classes with the Instructors. It''s also a great opportunity to form a party. Seeing as these events are shown down there, I''m sure Class Nine-Nine-Nine is nothing short of famous already. That said, you can leave after that, but then you wouldn¡¯t get any guild experience. And.¡± He inhaled sharply, almost as if he were preparing for pain or trying to get as much nicotine as possible from his drag. ¡°If you skip out on any of the years, you won¡¯t be able to attend the Guildmaster course.¡±


    ¡°I figured.¡± I shrugged, then snorted a bit as Doyle exhaled in relief. ¡°What about the rewards?¡± I then asked. ¡°What do we get after graduating? Evolving can¡¯t be it, right?¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± He hesitantly sighed, prompting me to scowl at him a bit and force it out of him. ¡°Uh-¡± he stammered. ¡°Well. Normally, evolving means being promoted to a Novice in relation to the Guild Association¡¯s metrics- which all students will be. But- frankly speaking, this is the Bodhi Tree. We give the students the main item required to be promoted past Novices. A Wise Rock Pebble- for yourselves or your own party once you achieve the next rank.¡± He quickly stepped in to add. ¡°The ones for the Guildmaster course are-¡±


    ¡°For our guild headquarters.¡± I nodded. ¡°These are for our towers. I presume to give us a place to live during our second and third years?¡±


    ¡°And beyond.¡± He nodded.


    ¡°Tell me how they work,¡± I demanded.


    ¡°Well.¡± He paused to reach into his pack and give me a book, of all things. ¡°This will explain the finer details. But, the month off you get after evolving will be spent incubating your Pebbles and deciding on your classes if you didn''t evolve with any. Once they grow into towers, they¡¯ll contain magical entities called Sprites. They¡¯re like messengers more than housekeepers. They won¡¯t clean or do anything of the like, but they¡¯ll keep you aware of anyone in or just outside of your territory. As far as we¡¯re concerned though.¡± He gestured between us. ¡°They allow for communication between other towers linked to your own and they''ll keep track of your quests for you.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded. ¡°And what happens going forward?¡±


    ¡°Uhm¡­¡±


    ¡°With our studies.¡± I sighed.


    ¡°Oh. Right.¡± He sheepishly rubbed his head and laughed. ¡°Well. After this, you¡¯ll have proved that you can take care of yourselves on your own. So you¡¯ll be given introductory lessons on the Classes from the Instructors and Olga will be teaching everyone how to use the forges. Then, after next week, you all will be free to roam the wilds or the mines or do whatever else it is you feel you need to work on until you evolve. Those who want to be druids or rangers can spend as much time in the wilds as they want, for example.¡± He chuckled again before gesturing to me. ¡°Or, someone who wants to be an Artificer could spend all their time in the workshop.¡±


    ¡°Or, we can stay here.¡± I turned away, muttering. ¡°And where will you be?¡± I then asked, turning back to him.


    ¡°In my classroom or at the Cove,¡± he said. ¡°Now, uhm. May I have that brooch back?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I quickly said. Then couldn¡¯t contain my laughter afterwards. ¡°I¡¯m joking. Here.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± He shakily took the thing and let out another strained laugh. ¡°Haha.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I snorted. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re curious. So I¡¯ll tell you.¡±


    His eyes widened at that. Another comical reaction that threatened to send me over the edge, but I held it together.


    ¡°Come the end of next week, when we gain our autonomy. I¡¯ll begin accepting pledges for my guild. I¡¯ll begin training them here.¡± I gestured to the butte below us before turning my smile to him. ¡°That invitation extends to you as well, Doyle. If you ever wish to join my guild. Or, if you ever simply wish to leave this place and live freely. Just say the word.¡± I began walking away. ¡°You¡¯re a good teacher and a good man. Thank you for being good to me. And please, stop being afraid of me. I''m not going to do anything to you.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± He stepped after me. ¡°If- if I may... ask you a question?¡±


    I turned back with raised brows.


    ¡°What... are you?¡±


    ¡°If I told you that I was born a dormant God, would I sound arrogant?¡± I grinned. ¡°If I told you I was blessed by the Creator as his Champion before I was born would you believe me?¡± I snorted. ¡°If you don¡¯t, I¡¯ll be happy to show you once I evolve. But if you have faith¡­ well.¡± I sighed. ¡°Ask my friends. What they will tell you will be far more valuable than my words.¡±

 177 - Revelations

    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    If anything happened throughout the night, it went unnoticed by me. After the undead raised their tents and tied their hammocks, the students huddled around a fire to share stories of their encounters like adventurers taking respite for the night. Then, they tucked themselves off to bed as if they were back in the roots or the Cove.


    Most of them anyway.


    Zakira never slept. Duke sat perched in a tree all night and Urshure spent most of the night wedged in a crevasse along the face of the cliff. And of course, Amun sat cross-legged and stared off into space for a few hours before waking to drift through the night, spreading hints of burnbud wherever he went. As for me, there was no way I could have slept after hearing what I heard.


    I couldn¡¯t help but wonder how the rest of the staff would react- were reacting to Amun¡¯s declaration of taking oaths from his classmates. I couldn¡¯t believe his claim or even come to understand how he intended to train them. Or what he intended to even train them in. Neither could I come up with a definitive answer to his invitation despite the gut feeling I had.


    Even though I knew and was unhappy with the outcome of continuing down my current path, I couldn¡¯t yet bring myself to agree to his invitation no matter how alluring it was. I could either continue teaching until stress caught up with me, forcing me to dwell in the unruly empires to the south or the rigid confines of the north. Or I could pledge my soul away to the Elven Devil and uncover the countless curiosities that dwelled within my mind. It was a choice between a stagnant life that would yield nothing and a dynamic life that would take everything. A chance to explore the realms as I so dreamed, rather than live and die in the same realm in which I was born.


    It wasn¡¯t fair.


    I was a teacher. I was his teacher. There was no way I could abandon my duties and swear fealty to one of my students. But after¡­


    ¡°Dammit!¡± Shaking my head, I lit another cigarette and took a walk to nowhere. It worked to chase the invasive thoughts from my mind, but not without baiting in something else entirely.


    Amun was a God. Or a least claimed to be one.


    Normally, such a claim would have warranted mocking laughter or cries of heresy. But Amun was anything but normal. In fact, the closest thing I could ever think of to call him was divine. It just seemed a ludicrous notion to even acknowledge. At least until now.


    Deciding there was nothing I could do but accept what I knew deep down to be true, I took another drag, flicked my cigarette over the cliff edge, and then took a long look out at the environment. The Pillars of Erodes, they were called. Formed over eight hundred years ago by an Earth Djinni during this very event. Before then, it¡¯d been a regular barren grassland that had been favored as a battleground over the centuries due to the lack of wildlife. Now, it was seen as an indomitable landscape that could withstand the test of time and the barrage of powerful mages. And the sights were amazing. It gave me the impression of a buried giant, whose three fingers have managed to breach the surface to stretch to the clouds. Although, from my current standpoint, the other pillars appeared as twin towers of impenetrable darkness that stood before the ambers and blues of pre-dawn.


    It was a wonder if they would remain standing after this day was done.


    ¡°This is it!¡± I screamed over my shoulder before turning fully into the forest. ¡°Five minutes!¡± So saying, I scurried back to the center to see the entire party corralled around Amun while he stared up into the air above. Probably at a scrying point.


    ¡°Ah!¡± He snapped his gaze to me. ¡°Doyle, you¡¯re here.¡±


    My pace slowed at once. ¡°I¡­ I am.¡± I shook my head.


    ¡°I wanted to teach you all something before we begin.¡±


    ¡®Oh, dear.¡¯ I sighed. ¡°Okay.¡±


    Under the firelight, he pointed to a sheet of parchment with two horizontal lines running parallel across the width. Inside of which was a bunch of scribbles that began to elongate as they reached the other side of the page, so much so, that it eventually formed a line with but a gentle curve in it. Roughly at the center of the diagram, however, was a pair of vertical lines that were connected to a rainbow-filled wedge occupying the bottom center.


    ¡°Electromagnetism,¡± Amun stated.


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    ¡°That¡¯s one of your affinities!¡± Scarlett eagerly, and needlessly declared. But Amun nodded as amiably as always.


    ¡°That it is!¡± He beamed. ¡°It is electricity.¡± He paused to send streaks of lightning over his body. ¡°Combined with magnetism.¡± He paused to again flex his magic by causing everyone¡¯s armor and weapons to rattle. Then let out a small huff of laughter through his nose before pushing on. ¡°The oscillation of perpendicular electrical and magnetic fields is known as electromagnetic radiation.¡± He said with a point to his diagram. ¡°What type of radiation we perceive, however, is dependent on the frequency of said fields.


    ¡°At the higher end of the spectrum, we have Gamma Rays.¡± He pointed to the scribbles. ¡°The energy is extremely harmful to life as we know it and the same can be said for X-Rays. And somewhat so with Ultraviolet Rays. If you¡¯ve ever been sunburned, UV rays are why. As such, I won¡¯t show you those yet.¡±


    ¡®Rays. Sunburned. Yet.¡¯ I nearly gagged. And a lot of students nearly did too. If he was saying what I thought he was saying¡­ everything would change in about¡­ four minutes.


    ¡°At the other end of the spectrum are radio waves.¡± He turned a wink at me while gesturing to the gently curved line. ¡°It¡¯s useful for communication. Among other things.¡± He snorted. Then held up his pinky. ¡°What we know as radiant heat is infrared radiation. Infrared means inferior to red, the color. So... when more heat is applied... you get...¡±


    He then paused, grinned, and started laughing as students began reeling away from the heat burning off his finger. It was like standing beside an oven. And then, once his finger started glowing, it became like standing within a forest fire. And then¡­ the heat faded. But the light stayed. His pinky was glowing bright yellow and vibrant like the sun itself. But there was no heat at all. It was just¡­


    ¡°Light!¡± Amun beamed with a gesture to the rainbow on his diagram. ¡°Visible light is but a tiny sliver of the electromagnetic spectrum. Only because we use it to see do we believe it to be all-powerful.¡± Chuckling- laughing, Amun turned his gaze to the assumed scry point and laughed again before slapping his palms together.


    When they pulled apart, the light did also. To red and orange and yellow and on through the rest of the rainbow, stretched across his hands. But what was most amazing were the feelings invoked by staring at the individual colors. Red made me feel¡­ passionate. Orange gave me a sense of optimism. Green gave a sense of calmness and yellow almost made me jovial. On and on to the end of the rainbow, where my eyes were then drawn up to the creator of these brilliant lights, brimming wide in amusement.


    ¡°The frequency or wavelength of visible light is what determines its color.¡± Amun continued after a few hearty laughs. ¡°But that¡¯s not what I¡¯m here to explain. I¡¯m here to debut the unprecedented union of light and darkness.¡±


    With the light still brimming in his pinky, a trailing sleeve of smoky darkness drew across his left arm and he raised them both high, then threw the spells downward to have them swell into a domain that encompassed the forested plateau in¡­ nothing. At first glance. It was only slightly darker than before but was otherwise no different, save the band of auburn light that hugged the horizon all around us and the countless motes of dazzling light above that shone like¡­ stars.


    ¡°Light and Darkness in tandem yields Twilight,¡± Amun said. Then I felt another swell of mana surge into his finger before he made a flicking motion at the ground.


    I and everyone else turned our slack jaws and wide eyes to the ground where Amun¡¯s gravity spell landed to see a small rock floating just above the ground. Then, the sand below it shifted. Cascaded in a stream towards the ascending ball to clump onto its surface and amass in size until a head-sized sphere was left floating above us. Another surge of energy pulled our eyes downward, only to be forced away by another deposit of light contained in Amun¡¯s finger. Luckily, I was more on the side of the darkness pluming from his left hand which, for better or worse, gave me a clear view of him clapping his hands overhead to fuse the energies together. When he did, the light dimmed at once. Not entirely, but to a gently pale, off-white light. It was soft enough to stare into directly. Almost like the stars far above, but held in the palms of a half-drow-devil.


    ¡°The fusion of light and shadow makes this pale, silver light. I call it Moonlight. Now, with gravity, I can weave matter into these floating bodies. Celestial Bodies. Satellites. Asteroids. Moons. Planets. Worlds.¡± Amun said as gently as the energy in his palm. And he carried it upward. Under the pull of his strange magic called gravity, he ascended to the floating orb of dirt and stone to palm it in his illuminated hands.


    The pale light flowed into the rock without resistance. Like a sponge in water, it soaked into the cracks and crevasses to illuminate the sphere from within and reveal every miniature crater, ridge, and, depression on its surface in awe-inspiring detail.


    ¡°When imbued into a floating body such as this, it becomes a Moon.¡± Amun gestured to the orb. Then pulled his hands to his chest as if in prayer. Looking around, all of his undead followed his motions. And so too did Zakira, who was¡­ crying.


    ¡°And so, as before.¡± Amun continued. ¡°You all have a choice. Do you want to be graced by Twilight and fight for Dusk and Gloom? Or do you wish to be blessed by the Moon and fight for glory in the pale light? You have¡­ one minute to decide. After that.¡± He grinned. ¡°Lie low and wait for the blessings to come.¡±


    I heard him. But at the same time, I didn¡¯t. No one did. No one but Zakira could even move past the fact that Amun, a drow sorcerer with ties to the Shadow Realm and the Underworld, could use light. It was unthinkable. Improbable. Utterly impossible, everyone believed. Up until now.


    If I told you I was a God, would you think I was arrogant?


    If I didn¡¯t believe, I did now.


    Even if I didn¡¯t know it, my body knew it. It reached without me thinking. Towards the Moon, it stretched, and in turn, a gentle coldness stretched back. Enveloping me with a sense of knowing and calm. I felt like I was being watched. But not in a discomforting way. It was as if someone was looking over my shoulder from high above to show me the way forward; and the way was everywhere I looked.


    It was¡­ freeing.

 178 - Singularity

    Abbot Eiriol.


    ***


    ¡°HAHAHAHAHAHA!¡±


    ¡°Damn it all...¡±


    ¡°In the coming age, a new light will come to be; one of dark origin. That was what he told us just days ago. But- oh! Never would I have thought the truth to be so sweet. The irony is richer than the most aged of wines paired with the juiciest steak. To think, the Devil the humans of Polaris were so slighted by, possessed the very light that they coveted all along. Oh! I have awaited this day for centuries!¡±


    The crackling sounds of thunder in the not-too-far distance forced another burst of laughter from my lungs. But just I could not help it. The truth was now out in the air and its taste was pure ecstasy. We were scrying when Doyle asked the most important question last night and we all heard Amun¡¯s answer. We all slept on it and arose to listen to Amun¡¯s lesson on radiant energies. Even the elves of Youtera were not privy to such knowledge, thus I knew those of Polaris were all the more indignant. And more so when we observed his demonstration of combining and fusing light with his darkness. We all witnessed him blessing his party with his Moonlight. Even Doyle Wolfgang was blessed, and the humans were furious.


    Most of them anyway. Still, they all were present, minus the biggest child of all, of course. But even the brightest light had blessed us with his presence. His fingernails had long since turned blue and remained on the verge of spilling blood around his precious throne ever since. Though his face remained still with the mastery one gained from centuries of political courting. Those unaffiliated with Polaris, however, were as overjoyed as I, though they dared not show it behind meek snickers, whispers, and smirks.


    I made it a point to position myself where I could study each of them and the event in question passively. But now, I just could not contain myself. For the spineless ones around us, I would press on. ¡°How folly must your insight be; to bare your teeth at a living God?¡±


    ¡°Bah!¡± A human from who-cared-where spat. ¡°He may have light but he is not divine! He has no divine energies!¡±


    ¡°That is where you are wrong, child!¡± I laughed. ¡°The Eternal Champion was born a God in wait. A divine soul, graced by the Creator himself to ascend at his evolution. Even without faith, he is divine. But he will have it still, and so his divine energy will be born from it. How many would you say have faith in Amun, God or otherwise? Look at the members of his party and tell me yourself.¡±


    I followed his eyes across the screens. First to the butte where Baker Party and, in particular, Lance was stationed. In that party alone were a slew of Maruleans who undoubtedly believed Amun could conquer Ulai and close off the portals to his realm. If the elves could do it, Telin¡¯s Champion was no exception.


    His eyes then fell to the second butte holding Apple Party just as the game was to begin. It was a group that had fewer Maruleans but with nearly just as many people devoted to the Champion as the other parties. Except for his own, of course. Many of them were still basking in the gentle light. Those that were not were silently melding into the darkness like Amun or a drow would. The students on the first screen, however, were cowering from the overbearing light of the Morningstar child. Even as he ascended above the clouds and drifted above the plains, they were seen hiding behind trees and rocks alike.


    Like the polar opposites they were, they drifted high above the clouds to suffuse the environment with their arcane sorcery. From the scrying point, far away but magnified and stretched to the limits of its perception, I could see Lance drawing a bow of radiant light. But Amun just smiled tauntingly until Lance fired.


    Even with scrying that could keep pace with light, Amun¡¯s reaction was a blur. His arm faded from reality, reappearing across his side as if he were reaching into a pouch on his far hip while an arc of purple mana erupted from him. Then the perspective switched to show a glint of light streak away at a downward angle, directly into the tower that housed Apple Party.


    A massive chunk of stone blew away from the explosive impact but the pillar remained standing nevertheless, leaving an angry maw of stone gorging itself on the endless grasses around it. Its peak, however, responded at once with flashes of fire and lightning aimed at Baker Party. Meanwhile, far in the distance, Lance was backing away, his eyes wide and a film of sweat reflecting the auburn glow of the coming dawn. And Amun, the harbinger of chaos, was laughing as boisterously as I.


    His laughs seemed to stir Lance from his stupor, as he scowled, repositioned himself in the skies, and began emptying his Well into a massive ball of light overhead. But again, Amun just smiled and waited. Even as Zeke Silva raced up to meet them, Amun kept his amiable gaze on Lance and cast a spatial domain with but a flick of the finger. Encompassing him and Lance in an enclosed space of unthinkable volumes.


    On the outside, Silva, Ash, and Toril along with several others seemed as if they were suspended in mid-air, yet they continued accelerating under the force of their magic in perpetuity. Giving them a first-hand view of the Champion infusing the purple mana that was gravitational energy into his voice and shouting a single word just as the sun itself rained down on him.


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    ¡°Quasar!¡±


    The energy poured from his voice and condensed in the infinite space between him and Lance in an instant and the Mortal Plane itself seemed to react. Like a beast of legend had awoken or like a finger was pushed through parchment, the ground swelled upward before shattering into colossal plates and boulders that were then pulled upwards towards an indomitable mass of horrendously screeching darkness. It looked similar in appearance to the void. But the space around it seemed to distort as if the light was¡­ bending. Revolving in an ever-accelerating disk around the magic just like the tens and hundreds of tons of rubble torn from the ground below. And Lance¡¯s star as well.


    Just like the debris, the miniature sun Lance threw was drawn into a funnel and pulled into a violent spin around the mass of darkness at an ever-increasing rate. Each revolution brought it closer and closer to the edge; spun it faster and faster; made the energy glow hotter and hotter until it dipped over the horizon and annihilation flashed before our eyes.


    The screens were bright enough to make even the brightest light shield his eyes and turn back as quickly as possible. And like all of us, what he saw shook him to his core. Twin jets of the brightest radiant energy one could conceive were ejecting from opposite sides of the sphere. One raced towards the ground an infinite distance below while the other shot towards the never-ending sky at an off-angle. And like fleas on a dog, Amun and Lance were somewhere on either side of the massive concentration of material and energy. One shied away with horror while the other was spread eagle, cackling madly and screaming to the heavens.


    ¡°Charge!¡±


    Like the tentacles of an abyssal sea creature, the plumes reacted to the dull-gray ripples sent out by Amun¡¯s voice and turned inwards on their caster to flow into him like rivers leading to the Faewoods. The abundant energy seemed to disappear as it flowed into his body, though I could all but see the energy making its way through the Ki paths to sustain and enrich his body to a point far beyond its limits.


    When the plumes faded, the abyssal void and the domains Amun had created thus far disappeared with it. With its absence, the force that had been keeping the light and material in a dance around the void was no more. It shot out like an omnidirectional wave of material and energy that swept across the impossible distance in an instant to erase everything but the blue sky itself. Including the precious Candle Boy.


    Through the scrying pinned to his clothes, all we saw was him rocketing away from Amun before the safeties in his clothes kicked in and darkness consumed the screen. From elsewhere, however, we saw a glint of light before Baker Party¡¯s butte shattered from the inside out. The damage done was far more extensive than what was done to Apple party, but neither were they spared. A glint of light came from the ground before their pillar undulated just as Baker Party¡¯s had done. Just from him flying into it, Amun bored a hole straight through the butte. Forming a pit on the cliff face that ejected solid sheets of stone across the ground before the entire thing collapsed into a wave of bedrock and boulders and cocooned bodies.


    In the end, all that was left was a mix of Alpha and Baker Party members that equated to twenty-one humanoids, all staring back in horror at their destroyed territories. Many of them were the Maruleans from Amun¡¯s home country, along with a few lucky ones who were saved by others like the halfling from Baker Party. Meanwhile, the fifteen blessed members of Copper Party still had yet to be seen. And would not be seen still. Not until Amun shouted a final time.


    ¡°New Moon!¡± The spell came down from above as if it were a song chorused by a god.


    No, not ''as if.'' It was.


    Spoken by Amun himself, the mix of light and darkness he called Moonlight rained down from above to summon the glowing globe he called the Moon up to him. As it ascended, so too did the tons and tons of rubble that both pillars had been reduced to. In a never-ending stream of rock, the debris accelerated toward the globe, now high above the clouds. Eventually, the several cocoon-wrapped casualties of Apple and Baker Party that were caught in the pull were later pried away by another force, leaving them drifting in the air around Amun like dust while still, the rocks ascended. The stream accelerated constantly until the boulders either announced contact with a delayed thud or zipped past the Moon in a blur, where they were subjected to spin back around for a second or perhaps a third attempt before impacting at last. Growing the orb bit by bit until the overbearing, featureless eye of a new God was seen staring down on the Mortal Plane.


    Only then did Amun clasp his hands before him as if in prayer. The radiant energy coursing through him faded soon after; or rather, was closed off. Permitting his sonorous voice to be heard among the zealous screams of his comrades. ¡°Receive the blessing of the Bloodmoon, and destroy.¡±


    While the wrapped victims drifted slowly to the ground, everyone¡¯s gaze outside of Amun¡¯s Party lifted to see the impossibly round rock take on a dull crimson hue. Its light poured down on the scattered motes that were Amun¡¯s party, roaring, screaming, and lashing out with as much fervor as his undead.


    They were without mercy just as their enemy was without hope. They were accompanied by platoons of undead lingering in the shadows, striking from the darkness, loosing arrows, flinging spells, and lashing out with swords and spears alike in tandem with the blessed classmates of their sovereign. And what a blessing it was. The Bloodmoon made them faster. Stronger. More resilient and durable. So much so that the human fighters, Samson and Winston, were fighting on par with the strength Amethyst and Zarzok were gauged to have. The others were dropping their opponents like bats. First by ones. Then by twos. Then in groups as the living and the dead unmercifully pounced on whoever was left. And all the while, Amun was just standing there. Waiting. Grinning. Watching his followers work through the Light of the Moon.


    ¡°Change is here!¡± I gushed with joy. ¡°And oh, what a glorious change it is! Rejoice!¡± I stood from my chair to begin prancing through the room like a zealous preacher- like me in the days of old before I made my departure from the tunnels far below. ¡°A glorious future awaits us! How blessed are we, to witness the birth of the Champion? Immensely!


    ¡°How damned are you?¡± I wheeled around and paused between the gaze of Dende Morningstar and the empty screen representing his incapacitated son, and laughed at the flexing jaws, the creased wrinkles, and the screaming eyes. ¡°To have invoked the ire of the Creator¡¯s Champion, the God of Light and Darkness, melded in two dissimilar ways? Oh.¡± I giggled. ¡°I do hope he is without mercy when he finally comes to judge you. You creatures of the light have shunned those born in the dark for far too long.


    ¡°But that is no longer the case.¡± I smiled. ¡°Our God is here to liberate us. And he is Eternal.¡±

 179 - Moonlight

    Amun.


    ***


    "Leave it."


    I turned inward to my twilight domain with raised proverbial brows to see the dragon, Cononthoth, peering her burnt-red eye through her mound of coin. ¡®Why?¡¯ I asked.


    "You wish for faith before your ascension. This is the means." She growled.


    Looking forward, I saw my hand outstretched to the moon I¡¯d created. I was just on the verge of disassembling it and reverting the land to its prior state when Cononthoth stopped me. In truth, A part of me wanted to leave it. But there was an unknown factor to the decision that kept me from going through with it. So I asked. ''How long will it last with all my arcana?''


    From my experiences dilating everyone¡¯s time in Hill Base, I knew the answer was at least a few days. But weeks, years. I had no idea and I wasn¡¯t willing to wait for a planetoid to fall out of the sky to find out. Thus I assumed an indefinite effect could only be imbued into enchantments or runes. However...


    "To cast arcana is to reshape reality itself, Tiny Devil." Cononthoth sneered. Then purred with glee as the coins began trailing in from my Pocket as per the arrangements of our deal. "Or." She growled. "Do you not believe in your own words?"


    ¡®You got me.¡¯ I dropped my hand with a snort and looked upon the damage I wrought. What before was a steppe interrupted by three colossal buttes that resembled inverted mushrooms was now a single structure of stone that stood over twice its initial height due to the gorge my Quasar dug around it. What was left of the other buttes were nothing more than piles of rubble that hardly stood taller than the rim of a triangular crater some 30 kilometers to a side and 2.6 kilometers deep at its lowest point. Overlooking it all was a spherical body of hollowed rock that measured just under a megameter in diameter.


    At a crisp 999 kilometers, it was slightly larger than Ceres. But at an altitude of 2,965 kilometers, its apparent size was around twenty degrees. Making it appear more like Jupiter seen from the surface of its moon, Io; not that I¡¯ve ever been, but it was about the same width as the bull sign held out at arm''s length. It was still burning with the light of the Blood Moon, something I ceased at once by bringing my hands to my chest to blend darkness with light and chant. ¡°Full Moon!¡± Then imbued gravity into my voice to chant. ¡°Orbit!¡±


    As it calmed to a pale light, its influence worked to calm my raging peers and heal my injured classmates before it faded to the silver-blue reflection of its regolith. Then, it began drifting ever so slowly away, truly making it a satellite. If I was considered a planet, at least.


    Regardless, I turned inward to the apps running in my Eternal Eye while my classmates gathered around me. ¡®If arcana is to manipulate reality, what of the other densities of mana?¡¯ I asked my scaled companion. ¡®What would become of the water if Peter made a lake here?¡¯


    "He cannot. "Cononthoth jeered.


    ¡®Let¡¯s say he could.¡¯


    "The water would yield low oxygen. Life would not thrive. Your lake would simply¡­ exist." She said, gleefully in response to the deposit of coins funneling to her. "Only crystalline mana or arcane energies can accomplish what you seek, Tiny Devil."


    ¡®Ah. I see.¡¯ Interesting.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s new.¡±


    I could see her face before I even turned. Round cheeks with a chiseled chin like her father¡¯s. Dark brown skin and large gray eyes that contained just a bit of naivety. It was a voice I hadn¡¯t heard in quite some time and one of many that I''d grown to miss, making me doubly surprised to find the rest of the gang and much more standing behind Roheisa.


    ¡°Just when I thought I closed the gap between us.¡± Toril chuckled dryly, then lifted his shaking head to gaze upon the Moon. ¡°You go and pull this.¡±


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    ¡°Yeah.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Just a little something I¡¯ve been working on.¡±


    ¡°Clearly.¡± Jaimess gasped in disbelief.


    ¡°Potions!¡± Hardly anyone could turn towards the recognizable voice echoing in from the back. ¡°If anyone needs potions, just scream! Potions! Po- oh!¡± In quite the comical fashion, Olga jumped after rounding a boulder to see the majority of Class 999 huddled around me, mostly staring up at the moon. ¡°You¡¯re all healed.¡± She gasped.


    ¡°That¡­ big... rock? It healed us.¡± The plain-faced girl from Epeth said as she pointed up.


    ¡°Right.¡± Olga dropped her eyes to me and shuddered. ¡°What the hell was that?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my first woven world. Mani, my moon.¡± I motioned around me, grinning wide. ¡°I used it to bring the injured here and heal them.¡±


    ¡°Okay?¡± Zeff waddled in with a maddened gaze. ¡°But¡­ what is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a floating rock that I infused with a fusion of light and darkness.¡± I snorted. Then gave everyone a quick glimpse of the pale light before spreading a gravity domain across everyone to bring us to the top of the remaining pillar. ¡°Ask my party members how it works if you¡¯re curious.¡± I continued. ¡°But I¡¯ll tell you that the pale light; Moonlight, is a peculiar thing. Alone, it benefits both the living and the undead. But in differing ways. For the living, it acts as a beacon in the impenetrable darkness. A pillar of hope as much as a means to see. Oftentimes, however, their being able to see makes them bear witness to the horrific things that dwell in the night, increasing their fear to levels that drive the dead into a controllable rage. And since moonlight isn¡¯t bright enough, the dead aren¡¯t harmed by it.


    ¡°Twilight is somewhat the opposite.¡± I continued. ¡°It''s light and darkness in tandem. It can help or hinder both the living and the dead. Obscuring and hiding things with darkness, or unveiling things that are hidden with light; among other things. For the undead, it sustains them. It enhances them. Heals them. You¡¯ll be seeing that next. So don¡¯t expect this free-for-all to last long.¡±


    ¡°How long?¡± Came another familiar voice pushing its way to the front. ¡°How long have you been able to use light?¡±


    We were just at the summit by then, and I waited for us to arrive just so I could approach Lance on foot with the friendliest indifference I could muster and say. ¡°Since the day I was granted my affinity core for Electromagnetism.¡± I stared deeply into his eyes for a tense moment. And then¡­ he walked away. Without saying another word, he stepped off the butte and disappeared to the edge of the crater in a flash of light.


    ¡°Well, no time like the present.¡± I sighed after he left. Then took a moment to Void the scrying point. ¡°If I may have your attention,¡± I said and was nearly taken aback at the sea of heads swiveling in my direction. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve all heard that I¡¯m aiming to make a guild. In short, that process is beginning soon.¡±


    I paused. If only to hold back a laugh from the wide-eyes Toril and the others were throwing me. But the honey badger was out of the bag. I made sure they were scrying when I talked with Doyle, so they were already aware of the invitation I extended to him and of my other revelation. That said, I didn¡¯t want them to hear this, although Doyle, Zeff, and Olga were a different story.


    ¡°If you want to join, I¡¯ll begin taking you seriously and accepting pledges or oaths or whatever it is you wish to call them. Just infuse your voice with mana and name your price before you make the agreement. After next week.¡± I gestured around me. ¡°I¡¯ll be spending the majority of my time here to train. If you join me, I¡¯ll be training and teaching you all I know, as you will be my first officers when the guild is established. The highest ranking and the most esteemed.


    ¡°After that.¡± I grinned. ¡°We¡¯ll return to Maru and close off the portals in Ulai. And after that.¡± I chortled. ¡°You may retire. Or, you can join me as I explore the Mortal Plane in its entirety. Starting with Betrarth and on to Vagua, then to Youtera, and beyond the White Wall before we return to Nonus.¡±


    ***


    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°That is all.¡±


    Like many others, I could only watch on in disbelief as Amun receded into the woods with his undead with Toril, Edward, Jaimess, Roheisa, Lucia, Peter, and Zakira trailing behind him. And behind them were Opal and Elijah, both hurrying to catch up to the half-elf or whatever he was.


    The Amazonians followed soon after. Orsola, Teofila, and Ale practically skipped behind them, singing some sort of Amazonian shanty as they swerved around each other in a strange dance. The Goliaths followed with not much said between them. Then, surprisingly, Winston Epeth trailed after him at a dutiful pace. And so too did his knight, Issac Galliard. The other Epethians were then left in the same conundrum as many others, torn between the lure of prominence and fear, curiosity, or prejudice.


    It took little effort for some to make their choices. Among them were Rua Nun and Zarzok, of all individuals, the latter of whom was practically begging Phelaia to join him. As always, she was hesitant. But she eventually joined him. Along with a few others. Hogaz and Elurial. The Epethian commoners, and then the Epethian nobles.


    The last wave seemed to be those who were unsure of their convictions but at least wanted to learn more about the one who made the offer. Among them were Bazzric Baal, Ash, Veil of Shadows, and, surprisingly, Vlorlyn Lagunath. Though she was held in place by her brother. In the end, all that was left were the two Tritons, the two lizard-folk; Rhot and Butuss, Snusz Silentjaw, Zaos Torhorn, and Zeke Silva. And of course, the three of us, staring in disbelief.

 180 - Twilight

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°I¡¯m so bored!¡±


    ¡°I wholeheartedly agree.¡± I snorted. And it wasn¡¯t the first time.


    With the other pillars destroyed, most of the class spent the day on the only remaining butte and the sun still had yet to fall. Those who followed me to the sinkhole at the center took to swimming and lounging about on Scarlett¡¯s trampoline while they asked me about my earlier displays and offers. As time went on, breakfast was served and the conversations drifted into me doing a show and tell of the Menagerie once Scarlett asked to play with Skoll and Hati. Being one of the few humans they tolerated, I decided to let her have at it and let the rest of the troops out to stretch their legs. Naps started to be taken within a few minutes after that, giving me a few hours of peace to smoke and mess around in Terranaut until they started waking to ask me about my guild once more.


    By then, lunch had come and the conversations had gone to mention my undead. Prompting another round of introductions to all of my named undead. Naturally, that drew some adverse reactions from the crowd. But none of them attacked my undead and instead, they grew accustomed to them rather quickly. Due in no small part to Toril and the others¡¯ familiarity with similar beings. Now, they were hanging out as if they were members of the party. The shadows at least. Zaraxus and his squad were with me, unmoving as they leaned or sat against the wall like ancient corpses while the Bobs toiled from top to bottom.


    ¡°While your whining is incessant, I have to agree.¡± Zarzok sighed. ¡°I¡¯d much rather get this over with already. The suspense is killing me.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know what incessant means.¡± Zakira rolled her eyes without looking his way. ¡°But it sounds like ''insect'' and I don¡¯t like it. Don''t say it again.¡±


    ¡°Say!¡± Zarzok pounced from his perch of smoothed stone. ¡°Just how immortal are these shadows of yours?¡±


    ¡°Try to kill one and find out.¡± I shrugged.


    Grinning wide, Lana pushed off of Zakira and rose to stand at the base of Zarzok¡¯s perch and winked at him. Then Zarzok lunged.


    In a blur of red, he crossed the distance and severed Lana¡¯s head entirely, then jumped away before her body could even slump to the ground and spill seafoam-green ''blood'' across the floor. And therein she remained, with Zarzok and many others studying the smoky gray bones and black arteries that composed the interior of her neck with mixed emotions in their eyes.


    After a few seconds, the ectoplasm-like ichor began receding to her nape while arcana began leaking from my Well on its own. It was just the slightest bit of energy. A steady stream that continued and lasted until the blood drained back into her and her severed head became incorporeal to snake over to her neck for reattachment. And then, with a silent gasp, Lana jumped to her feet and gave Zarzok a flirtatious wink before returning to Zakira''s side as if nothing happened.


    ¡°And there you go.¡± I grinned.


    ¡°Fascinating!¡± Zarzok beamed. ¡°I assume this is the fate of all your subordinates?¡± He then asked, prompting waves of discomforted gazes from the crowd.


    ¡°Only if they so choose,¡± I said. ¡°I do, however, bless my subordinates with expendable lives and longer lifespans in differing ways.¡±


    ¡°Explain.¡± He quickly demanded.


    ¡°I have within me, around a hundred souls. They were bandits, murderers, rapists, and the like.¡± I explained. ¡°Now, approximately half of them are what I call Aegis Souls.¡±


    ¡°Protectors?¡± He correctly guessed. ¡°Souls meant to die in the place of oneself? And the latter?¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡± I nodded- nay, I beamed. To finally speak again with someone on the same wavelength as myself, the feeling was intoxicating. ¡°And, though they may die earlier, all beings have a time at which they must die. A maximum lease on life, if you will. With my temporal magic, I can reduce that lease and grant it to my subordinates and allies, thus extending theirs.¡±


    ¡°Like a Devil indeed.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Tell me, would you care if I were to, say, one day rule one of the Hells?¡± He chuckled again with a meek shrug.


    ¡°Would you care if I... oh, I don''t know, opened the Gate to the Underworld?¡± I shrugged back.


    ¡°Not at all!¡± He threw his arm aside. ¡°I would, as the humans say, not give a shit.¡±


    ¡°And my answer is the same.¡±


    ¡°Good! Good!¡± He stood with a clap, then crouched low as if he were readying for a pounce. ¡°Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯ll persuade our dear instructors to allow us to get this show underway.¡±


    ***


    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°Doyle Wolfgang, are you fucking serious!?!¡±


    ¡°You said it yourself, Olga Godzuik! You¡¯re quitting after this year!¡± I gestured to Olga. Prompting an accusatory gaze from Zeff. ¡°Okay.¡± I nodded, ignoring him. ¡°Where are you going to go? Over the mountain again? Down south? What are you going to do? Work odd jobs for the rest of your life?¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re going to quit your job to work for one of your students?¡±


    ¡°Former student. Yes.¡± I quickly nodded. ¡°You didn¡¯t feel what I felt, okay? That power is- it¡¯s freeing. I jumped from here.¡± I pointed down to the destroyed surface. ¡°Unpowered. No veil. No bolstering. No clouds. That¡­ thing.¡± I gestured above. ¡°The moon. It carried me to safety.¡±


    ¡°And just because of that, you¡¯re going to leave?¡± Zeff shook his head.


    ¡°It¡¯s not just that!¡± I spat. ¡°He¡¯s said many times that he will give his subordinates what they dream of. Land. Wealth. Knowledge. Whatever! Well, I dream of being free from all of this bullshit!¡± I threw my arms around us. ¡°Free from Polaris¡¯ bullshit. Free from Titus. I thought I got away from it coming here. The only other place I could¡¯ve gone was Maru. And outsiders are said to struggle to adapt to that realm. Lest they wanted to live rough in the wilds of Phaegrath.


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    ¡°But that¡¯s no longer the case. Look.¡± I threw my chin up to the moon. Only to see a red-skinned tiefling smiling dreamily at us, blinking rapidly like a smitten teenager.


    ¡°It is romantic, isn¡¯t it?¡± Zarzok threw himself onto his back and chortled. ¡°One could almost say its fate. Destiny, even. To find ourselves here among one as¡­ eclectic, as Amun. The Darkest Devil with a light that can outshine the brightest star. Like our eyes to this¡­¡± he waved a clawed hand to the rock above as if he were trying to find a different word for it. ¡°This¡­ Moon.¡± He eventually submitted. ¡°We all find ourselves drawn to him. As if by some invisible force.


    ¡°Now.¡± He rolled over to face us and chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m not a religious fiend by any means. But¡­ well.¡± He dreamily sighed. ¡°What¡¯s your opinion?"


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you heard mine loud and clear.¡± I groaned. ¡°Now, is there anything I can help you with, Zarzok?¡±


    ¡°Certainly!¡± He nodded. ¡°You see, we¡¯re all bored. And worse, anxious. We were wondering if the schedule could perhaps be¡­ how you say, pushed forward? Surely a night of lounging about can¡¯t be good for everyone¡¯s nerves. Not with a Devil on the loose.¡± He whispered behind his hand and snickered.


    ¡°We¡¯ll see what we can do.¡± Olga curtly said, then turned to me with screaming eyes that said. ¡®We¡¯re not done.¡¯ Before walking away with Zarzok. But oh, yes we were done. And I was done too. I was done with Polaris. Done with Titus. Done with the Bodhi Tree. I was done with being afraid. I was done with settling for a life I didn¡¯t want. I wanted to explore the realms. I always have. But I could never do it alone. I could never do it with my old party and guild. And I could never bring myself to serve the Light of Polaris. But the Moonlight I felt just hours before was different. With its blessing- with Amun¡¯s blessing, I was certain I could go anywhere by my lonesome.


    ¡°Doyle-¡±


    ¡°I was invited, Zeff.¡± I turned to the halfling with a warm smile. ¡°Just like they were. But I¡¯m a teacher. So I¡¯ll wait until they graduate to accept. But Class 999 will be my last. Join me.¡±


    ¡°I-¡±


    A sudden sigh cut him off. Then Olga rounded the corner. ¡°They agreed. They¡¯re to start spreading out in thirty minutes.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go let them know.¡±


    ¡°Zarzok is on it.¡± I heard Olga say. But I kept walking through the woods to smoke the minutes away.


    With a few minutes to spare, I made it to the lounging spot he made. It was set before a spire that formed a windbreak for the sinkhole. With his void magic, an alcove had been dug out and furnished with rugs, chairs, and tables for Amun and his undead, though only the latter was here. Specifically, the draugr, covered in rags with a bronze sword wedged between his ribs.


    ¡°Uh.¡± I sighed. ¡°Z- Zaraxus? Are you awake?¡±


    ¡°We do not sleep.¡± Came his growling, sourceless voice as the fires in his eyes illuminated.


    ¡°Stupid question to ask, I know.¡± I nodded. ¡°Can you take me to Amun?¡±


    Without a word, he stood and faced about to push a seamless door inward and led me down a spiral staircase and past an open window that peered into the sunken pool below. A wooden door was knocked upon and pushed inward a little way down the stairs after that, giving us entry to a vast, elliptical room carved through the stone. It was like an egg turned onto its side and separated from its cap, making a railed terrace that gave unbridled views of the northwestern steppes


    Saying nothing, Zaraxus led me past the members of Class 999, huddled around shadow beasts and undead alike, to halt before the railing and fold his arms before him as a Monk would. ¡°I bring Doyle Wolfgang, my Liege.¡±


    With a little mutter of surprise, Amun drifted above and over the railing to float in front of me, smirking ever so slightly.


    ¡°Your undead don¡¯t kneel to you?¡± I couldn¡¯t help but ask.


    He shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s my Great-Grandfather¡¯s schtick. I, personally, find it demeaning. A sovereign- any leader, should not demean, look down on, or disrespect their subordinates. They should be cared for as much as or more than one¡¯s children. They should be looked at in the eyes with respect. Or if anything, they should stand above you, for a kingdom or empire is nothing without its people. Thus a king should look upon his peasants as equals but never admit it. After all, they made, hold, and can take his crown.¡±


    Saying as much, Amun then paused to cradle Zaraxus¡¯ head in his palms and give him a warm smile before it faded. Then he turned. ¡°I¡¯m going to tell you all in advance that there are no ill feelings involved in what¡¯s about to happen. There are certain reasons why I need to steal the show again. So I won¡¯t make this fair. At all. The world has seen the Moon.¡± He grinned. ¡°Now, it''s time for the world to catch a glimpse of Gloom.¡±


    ¡°ALRIGHT!¡±


    A wave of ducking heads spread through the room at the sound of Zeff¡¯s call. After a collective sigh of relief, many of them began rushing out the open window, even as Zeff¡¯s voice continued rattling the walls around them.


    ¡°Sixty seconds to spread out! Fifty-Nine! Fifty-Eight¡­¡±


    In droves, the students scattered. Mostly to the skies, they went to spread themselves far apart within the relatively fresh crater. Those unable to fly relied on their elemental abilities to at least slow their falls or were carried to the ground by Amun¡¯s gravitational magic. He, on the other hand, returned to his prior location. On the wall, just below the terrace.


    He was sitting, smoking a burnbud cigar while he watched the students spread as far away from them as they could. Most of them, anyway. Lance Morningstar floated in the air just meters away from him. But Amun ignored him entirely. He just continued staring. Continued listening to the countdown tick to the single digits.


    At 9, Lance began glowing like the sun. Causing the undead to scramble into the shadows and us observers to shield our eyes as best we could.


    At 8, Amun splayed his hands out before him, palms up, and began infusing them with separate streams of light and darkness. Lance scowled, and at 7, his magic blossomed.


    Though they both possessed Arcana, Amun¡¯s well was almost twice as deep as Lance¡¯s, so when his body bloomed with that absurdly powerful energy he absorbed earlier, even Lance was forced to distance himself.


    By the count of 5, Lance was two kilometers away from Amun and receding further. But by four, Amun closed off the energy and burst out in laughter. A flash of light then came, and Lance was once again meters away from Amun, indignation smeared across his face until the count of three. Then the world itself began to dim.


    Like Lance, we all grew curious and began flicking our eyes around. And just after two, I conjured a cloud to drift out beyond the tower to take a look.


    I rounded the remaining Pillar of Erodes at the count of one and, upon seeing nothing, looked up to the Moon just as Zeff¡¯s shout to begin resonated throughout the air. Followed by Amun, chanting. ¡°Eclipse of Ill Omen!¡±


    At that exact moment, the Moon moved into position to block the sun entirely. Blighting the land in an eerily gloom that seemed to freeze time itself. After an endless second, a wave of twilight crashed into my back and continued for uncountable leagues, coating what could have easily been the entirety of the steppes in a haunting field of darkness that seemed to hug the ground like a rug that billowed wisps of amorphous shadow to obscure the twinkling starlight above.


    When I turned, Lance was gone and so too was Amun. So too was everyone else. Or, so I thought, until the haunting screams began to bleed through the obscuring darkness. A flash of fire caught my eye and I turned, only to immediately lose it. Then a bolt of blue jumped to life. Only to immediately die. Over and over again. Flashes of light and magic spurred forth from the darkness to be chased into Twilight by a chorus of rising screams meant to haunt the ears and eyes of us found outside of the reaching darkness.


    Eventually, the horror that seemed to never end faded. The screams died down and the light began to shine brighter. It took all my strength at that point to look away. To turn and see the Moon drifting ever so slightly out of the sun¡¯s way. From the clearing darkness, bodies could be seen strewn about across the stone at unnatural angles. Some had broken bones or pools of blood around them. All were beaten but alive. Not even Lance was spared. Nor was Toril, Roheisa, Jaimess, or any of his friends. All that was left was Zeff and Olga, standing atop the Butte; me, floating above a field of incapacitated students; and Amun, standing in the middle of a field of bodies, his hands clasped before him in prayer while the motes of starry twilight shifted to hues of blacks, reds, purples, ambers, and deep blue.


    Before our eyes, those motes sank into the students, limning their bodies in a golden radiance that saw their wounds seal shut, their bones mend themselves into place, and one by one, they stood to turn their gazes upward. Towards the Moon, distancing itself from the radiant sun.

 181 - Top Dog

    Lancelot Morningstar.


    ***


    I have faced many foul creatures over the short course of my life. I have seen things that children should never bear to witness, much less adults.


    I have fought and killed monsters. I just came face to face with one. A monster. Though, one only in name.


    Amun was kind to me. He was fearsome. Yet, he never made me fear him. Even when he used the light or whatever magic he used to... consume my light. It was more¡­ shocking. I was surprised. Then, I was determined. Then... I was relieved.


    I was not rigid in my beliefs like my family. Deep down, I always knew our power would not be ours forever. It could not. Our light had been spread too thin. While our family remained the purest light, Sirius soon became the brightest. Polaris became the most radiant. And Rouge, Drake, and Orion shared our heat, albeit in different forms. But only we were stars. Innumerous.


    We were like rabbits in an endless plain. It was only a matter of time before someone else was born with the Light. But even that could be handled. Even that could be attributed to forbidden love or a bastard child. Being given it as a magical affinity was another matter entirely, however. Such things were granted by the Gods. We mortals were not ones to object to such things. Besides, if there was anyone in the Mortal Plane who I wanted to have it- nay, who deserved it, it was Amun. He was wise enough to know when to use it. He was intelligent enough to know how to use it, even better than us. I knew him enough to know he would not abuse it. And though we both possessed arcana, his Well ran far deeper than mine.


    As did his convictions.


    But of course, my family would not see it that way.


    I have fought, and I have killed monsters. But no monster I¡¯ve faced was worse than them. More capable of hate than them. It was them I was afraid of. My father most of all.


    Like many parents of his stature had done, he invested his everything in me, including his failed ambitions. His lands were scoured for the best instructors in all facets of all things, all in the hopes that I would accomplish what he could not.


    All in the hopes that I would conquer Nonus in the name of the light.


    Or, in this case.


    ¡°Put the Nox back in their place beneath the ground. Make them understand they are to fester in the Darkworld, the Shadow Realm, and nothing more.¡± A pause, and then a demeaning sigh poured from his nostrils. ¡°I gave you this one task, and all you have to show for it is an embarrassment.¡± He paused again, and I knew to turn my gaze upward to face one of his ''friendly'' smiles.


    I hated it. The amiability. The generosity that was there and yet was also a mask to hide the fury of a star. It was haunting. All I could do to get away from it was kneel, as my father would see turning away from him in any other way as disrespect. But that. Kneeling. That he loved.


    ¡°It is alright, my Son.¡±


    ¡®Liar.¡¯


    ¡°Now, we know the truth.¡±


    ¡®Yes. This is what you wanted.¡¯


    ¡°Still.¡± He sighed and I felt my heart drop. ¡°You are not yet ready. Return home after you evolve, my Son. There is much work for us yet, and little time. I have found for you, the perfect Aasem.¡±


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Alright. Take your seats.¡± With a wave, Doyle dismissed us to pick and choose what tables we wished to take and waddled off to join the teachers, instructors, and remaining members of the Optimus Regni in their terraced seating arrangements.


    A mere three hours had passed since I healed the class. Since then, we returned to Campus and were released to freshen up and relax until Doyle came to retrieve us for the closing dinner. It was housed in the same room in which we drank the Bodhi Tree¡¯s sap. Albeit structured differently to accommodate the larger numbers, though those present were sparser than what was seen at the beginning of the week. Dende, his dog, and his subguilds were gone. Evidently making the air a lot lighter for the rest of the Optimus Regni. Although Lance seemed stricken.


    In itself, it wasn¡¯t a surprise to me. But it was something worth noting. I had nothing against Lance, but if I knew humans, I knew he would or was being forced along with whatever his father¡¯s plans were. That much was evident in his face.


    ¡°Attention!¡± Zorrenor¡¯s call served to summon the attention of Page and guildsman alike. With a distasteful groan, I too turned to see him standing at the center of their terrace. His arms spread out to his sides while he turned to face both the Optimus Regni and us students. ¡°While those of the Light had other business to attend to, their departing words were endless boasts of how the mid-year festival of Class 999 was the most interesting event many had seen in their lives.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I snorted. ¡°Interesting.¡±


    ¡°They, and the guilds behind me, all wish to see your growth in the years to come.¡± Zorrenor continued. ¡°Many of them will make contact with you in one year¡¯s time. So ensure that you remain focused on your studies going forward.


    "Now then.¡± He said after pausing to clear his throat. ¡°For the team battles of Class 999, the winner is. None other than Copper Party!¡±


    While everyone knew who the winner already was, the obligatory round of applause that ensued was nothing less than what was deserved. Even Lance was seen clapping. Though the thought that his actions were spurred only by his family¡¯s absence remained apparent in my mind, it didn¡¯t matter to me. I knew he and his father were different people entirely. Though for how long, was the question to ask.


    ¡°As the victors!¡± Zorrenor continued in an effort to dial the cheers down to a manageable level. ¡°As the victors, each member of Copper Party is hereby awarded ten thousand points!¡±


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    Another wave of cheers ensued. This time from my party, myself included. Ten thousand points was undoubtedly a lot and would become essential to us next year, according to Doyle at least. Regardless, I was sure it gave my party members all the more reason to keep following me and gave the other party members the idea to start. However, they still engaged in another round of applause to show good sportsmanship.


    ¡°Additionally,¡± Zorrenor said once the clapping faded once more. ¡°Each member, regardless of party, will receive five hundred points for every party member they¡¯ve incapacitated. In regards to the free-for-all, the victor, with a kill count of fifty-four, it is none other than Amun, of Copper Party, who is awarded an additional ten thousand points.¡±


    While Zorrenor seemed deflated as he announced my well-deserved victory, the rest of the room was not. My Party was the loudest of them all. They both congratulated me on gaining over 47,000 points from both matches combined and whined about how scared they were to suffer under Twilight. But eventually, that too died down and the attention was once again focused on Zorrenor Knagh, standing with an expectant smile as he scanned the class before him.


    ¡°While the Optimus Regni will be departing on this night, the Class Instructors will remain to give you introductory courses next week.¡± Turning, he paused to allow our eyes to gaze upon the mostly inhuman instructors in question before returning our gazes to him with a sharp sigh. ¡°Many changes will come to you once those lessons pass. The most notable change will be the release of any restrictions set upon you. From then until the end of the semester, each of you will be free to explore the Wilds or the Mines. You may ask our teachers for guidance. Or you can create tools and weapons in the forge. Whatever it is the Class you seek dictates you need to do, you will be free to do it.¡± Zorrenor spread his arms and smiled greatly. ¡°The second change is that attendance for your studies going forward is hereby optional. However." He added with a raised claw. "Completing the projects for Ms. Godzuik¡¯s workshop class and accomplishing the tasks given by Mrs. Licht in her healing class are both mandatory.


    ¡°You all will learn more at the start of the week. For now and until then, I implore you to feast. Celebrate your accomplishments. Relax, explore, and enjoy yourselves for the rest of the week. You earned it.¡± With a final bow, Zorrenor returned to the small throne set behind the first-year teachers and summoned the crystals with a wave of his hands.


    As always, the dinner was nice. But the cogs in my mind were working on things that took the time away. With our schedule for the coming semester confirmed, I finalized the butte¡¯s design in Terranaut and created a training regimen in the Legions app. The endeavor wound up taking up the majority of the time to complete. The Optimus Regni had long since departed, followed by Zorrenor and the other Class Instructors, leaving our teachers and the students to file out in groups as the minutes ticked on.


    With my work done, I motioned around the room to assemble my friends. Then dragged them, Peter, and Zakira outside and deep into the woods for a talk. As I hoped, Zakira and Peter got more acquainted with everyone else while we walked to an ambiguous clearing. Allowing me to get right down to business upon our arrival.


    With light in my thumb and darkness in my middle finger, I snapped a domain of Twilight around us for concealment.


    ¡°Toril. Ed. Roheisa. Lucia. Jaimess.¡± I looked at them in turn, then stopped at Jaimess to study a feathered bracelet on his left wrist. ¡°Nice bracelet.¡±


    ¡°Hm?¡± His eyes snapped down at once. Then he brought his arm up to study the piece. ¡°Huh.¡± He muttered so softly, yet it was as clear as spoken words to my ears. ¡°That was real?¡±


    ¡°Hahaha!¡± I bellowed, causing Peter and Zakira to jump in place and exchange a curious look. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you. All of you!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you too.¡± Roheisa giggled.


    ¡°Same.¡± Ed sighed. ¡°I just wish everyone else could be here.¡±


    Everyone else. As in, Hill Base. ¡°Yeah.¡± I looked away, nodding. ¡°I wonder how they¡¯re doing¡­


    ¡°Anyway.¡± I turned back to them. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re curious about my encounter.¡±


    ¡°Definitely.¡± Toril nodded.


    ¡°I made a deal with the dragon. And, as you can see.¡± I motioned to the other two. ¡°I made some friends. I¡¯m sure you have as well, and we¡¯ll all be able to share our stories soon. But¡­¡± I sighed. "Things are about to get serious.¡±


    ¡°How serious?¡± Roheisa asked.


    ¡°Lance¡¯s dad and one of his dogs appeared before me when I returned from my encounter, along with a few others. Doyle, Olga, and the three elven Class instructors. Long story short, Dende Morningstar was rude so I was rude back. His dog, Titus, threatened me, so I threatened him back. I then told Dende about himself in a way he didn''t like. And now, he knows I can use light. So, if he didn¡¯t hate me before, I¡¯m surely on his shit list now.


    ¡°That said, he¡¯s on mine as well.¡± I continued before anyone could speak. ¡°However, I¡¯m not going to start a war just because of that. But should he or his dogs threaten me again, I won¡¯t hesitate to end them.¡±


    ¡°How did they threaten you?¡± Roheisa curiously asked.


    ¡°Titus stepped up to me, baring his teeth and flashing his lightning. So.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I did the same with death lightning.¡±


    ¡°Wow.¡± Roheisa shook her head. ¡°I knew I wouldn¡¯t like them. So, what happens now?¡±


    ¡°Well, firstly. I won¡¯t make my subordinates fight my battles for me,¡± I said. ¡°You all will have the choice if you wish to fight or not. That goes for any conflict we engage in. Regardless, we begin training like never before. I¡¯ve copied every book in the library. The Tales, the Tomes, and the Paths.¡± I tapped my head and grinned madly. ¡°With that information, we¡¯ll gather any of our classmates who want to join the guild and take their pledges. Then we¡¯ll train them to awaken Master Classes come our evolutions. Later, they will become either Legion commanders or your first officers.¡± I gestured to the lot of them before I made a holographic map of the southern peninsula with pale light. ¡°Through Doyle, I learned that we¡¯ll be given Wise Rock Pebbles after our rituals and be sent off here to level our classes on our own.¡±


    ¡°I thought that was a reward for the Guildmaster course?¡± Peter asked.


    ¡°The pebble we get then will be for our Guilds,¡± I said. ¡°These are for our towers. They¡¯ll give us a place to live while we roam this place. Additionally, we¡¯ll be given a brooch that¡¯ll give us access to campus. That aside, I learned that towers can be un-rooted or rooted,¡± I explained with holographs of two towers, one smaller and unassuming and the other larger and grandiose. ¡°The former is portable but lacks a permanent design. Each time it expands to size, it will copy whatever materials are nearby to create the design in your head. On the contrary, rooted towers boast an outer yard, and their interiors can be changed at will, but the structure can''t be moved.


    ¡°So, here¡¯s my plan.¡± I sent out an orb of moonlight with a wave and watched it split apart into a dozen different shapes. ¡°While you all take the first few steps down your paths, I¡¯ll be here, in Bakewia, learning how to make enchantments. Once I do, I¡¯ll be making these.¡± I pointed at the orbs.


    ¡°Holy fucking shit.¡± Ed gasped.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I snorted. ¡°With this, we get the best of both worlds. At that point, the goal will be to roam the lands whenever you find yourselves able to recruit subordinates of your own. Have them pledge their loyalty and send them to your towers with your Doppelgangers for training. Keep them there- have them work for you until our time here is done. And if we have to go to war after that, we will.¡± I sighed. ¡°But I¡¯d much rather return to Maru.¡±


    ¡°Hopefully Polaris doesn¡¯t fuck everything up.¡± Jaimess sighed. ¡°Unlikely though that may seem.¡±


    ¡°Yeah." I sighed. "Keep in mind, these things are subject to change. But the only things we can do for now are train and continue gathering information. You all can leave the latter to me and focus on the former. Here¡¯s the second step to that.¡± I changed the hologram to the surviving butte we started the day at, albeit rendered in its completed state. ¡°My Doppelganger and the undead are still there, working in a time-dilated domain. After next week, we¡¯ll be joining them along with anyone who wants to join.


    ¡°So spread the word. The deadline to join as the highest-ranking officers in the Legions is next week. Come our evolution, it''s staff officers only. We''re working from the top down here.¡±


    "Easy enough." Toril nodded. "But, uh... what''s the first task?"


    "That''s also my responsibility." I grinned at him, then turned my smile to Jaimess. "All I need is several thousand sheets of paper."

 182 - Reaching Out

    Major Johann Silas.


    7 months prior.


    ***


    ¡°Well.¡± I sighed heavily. ¡°I guess this is it.¡±


    ¡°For now.¡± Amun turned to me, nodding, only to stop and give me a curious look before saying. ¡°Four years isn¡¯t that long.¡±


    ¡®So you are an old man.¡¯ I mentally chuckled, then turned my eyes to the other saviors- the royals of Hill Base, to give them a departing nod before they took off.


    They left as quickly as they came. Wherein what was both days and months ago, they appeared on the trail, seeming like naive adventurers. Although truly, they were led by a Nox Devil.


    As I swore what felt like so long ago, I sold my soul to him in order to bring prosperity to our home. If that would one day lead me to damnation in the Abyss, it was damn sure worth it.


    ¡°Alright, everyone!¡± I whipped around on my heels to begin shooing the gawking citizens away. ¡°We still have work to do!¡±


    That work wasn¡¯t nearly as much as the work we just completed. The superstructure of the Inner Yard was complete and so too was the clock tower in the outer yard. That moved Ken¡¯s priority to the main avenue leading up to the Bureau.


    It was a marvel, watching it grow over the course of a few weeks. From the gate to the tower, a rather complex and exceedingly durable road had been laid and lined with hedges and palm tree sprouts in the center. Meanwhile, the outer edges were blocked off to traffic by waist-high pillars that doubled as impromptu merchant booths for the opposing sidewalk and open porches for the inns and taverns to be. Separated by at least five meters, the buildings formed a network of paved alleyways that led to pedestrian zones which, over the course of two months, quickly grew into an evening entertainment hub. Set before the parks and wildlife areas, it became the perfect location for singers and dancers alike. Artists were found painting landscapes at all times of the day and night. Even I liked to take a stroll through there from time to time.


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    For all they were worth, however, Ken¡¯s endeavors were but a small slice of the pie Amun left for us. Savannah Otto was prowling the citizens like a hawk to ensure we were recycling kitchen scraps or paper or anything ''organic'' in our residential compost bins and making Dan Glenn and Violet Reid spread them across the Outer Yard and beyond to reclaim the soil as Amun instructed. Yaramin worked tirelessly to establish the first trade run to Colis as soon as possible. According to the report, tensions were high at first, however, they eventually grew impressed by the quality of our tools and abundance of materials and thus grew eager to trade their excess livestock in exchange. Now, we had multiple contracts established with the region and had a sizable population of goats roaming the mountains above us. Similarly, the many horses, pigs, cows, and chickens were, under Amun¡¯s tutelage, left free to roam in the vicinity of the hunting and foraging cabin. Protected by the ever-watchful eye of the shepherds and their guard dogs.


    Many of the open jobs had either been taken up or had apprentices learning the tools of the trade before they came of age, and Ken''s workers were in the midst of building a much-needed road to connect our city with the developing town of Colis, which itself has seen extensive development due to the tools and materials we were bringing in. It was over five thousand kilometers away and to accommodate the passengers, the craftsmen used Edward''s design to create caravans that had no need to stop along the journey. They were designed to be driven intermittently with our Doppelgangers. Giving the passengers a means to cook or eat meals, answer the call of nature, or rest inside during the roughly 40-day journey to Colis and back. Most certainly, the road would increase comfort while simultaneously decreasing the transit time.


    So too, however, would it increase the prospects of danger.

 183 - Heading Out

    Giorno Nojo


    ***


    ¡°My my, you¡¯ve all grown quite large, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    Although they couldn¡¯t talk, I imagined my slimy friends squirming in agreement with my words. However, I was sure it was just the anticipation of soggy paper, table scraps, and rotten fruit speaking such nonsense.


    While most people were disgusted with them, I developed quite a relationship with the worms in my compost bin. They were like living tunnels that ate the things that would make us sick and shat out what amounted to supercharged dirt, giving us the means to make and waste more food so more worms could grow and sustain themselves. It seemed¡­ natural. Everything about this lifestyle did.


    Like I did every morning, I moved from my compost bin over to my kitchen to first wash my hands, then flip my breakfast onto a plate to then sit on my balcony and gaze upon the villagers conducting their morning routines. It was an amazing thing. Seeing people change from being stepped on and scared to living freely. We were freer even than the citizens back in Odissi, only because we hardly used money. We still paid for our goods and services, of course. But we were all family here, and with the discounts we gave to family, such things may have well been free of charge.


    That left everyone in a peculiar spot. Wherein, the citizens didn¡¯t have to work in order to buy food, rent shelter, or pay off their homes. Instead, everyone grew their own food and traded what they had not. Everyone was free and indeed encouraged to pursue their dreams rather than do things out of necessity. Artists and writers were taught and given every opportunity to create. The athletic and feisty children were free to train with the guards or hunters and hone their skills in a number of other things. Those interested in crafting could attend regular workshops and seminars on a daily basis. Anyone could do anything here, and with our Doppelgangers, the work never stopped.


    The culture that arose from such a lifestyle was one of equal parts work and play. With the sun, most of us rose to take over for our umbral clones and work in earnest until sunset. At sundown, our clones would return to work for us while we went off to party and relax throughout the night and as far into the morning as we so wished; for our Doppelgangers were there to pick up our slack regardless.


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    Now, the interesting bit was the lack of laziness such a facet of our lives produced. It was indeed the opposite, for our clones were not our servants. They were us. Us and much more. They were also Amun. They contained his knowledge. And, as far as I was concerned, his knowledge base was nigh infinite. Parts of his mindset were found in all of them. Through that, our clones pushed us to become ever greater. They taught us to elevate our crafts to the next level. They worked with us, but they gave us nothing freely. We had to work for everything, and the work never stopped.


    I loved it.


    Now, though, I was at a plateau. I wanted to bring my craft to the next level. I wanted to create something new. But I was at a loss for what. All I needed was an inspiration. And I found it the most unlikely place.


    A small rodent. Rat-like with a bushy tail. A squirrel, I learned it was called. It was crawling at the edge of my living room, near my terrace which served as both a garden and balcony. Blatantly stealing berries from me while I enjoyed a smoke. Though, stealing was a bold word, considering I¡¯d have let it eat to its heart''s content on any occasion. Despite not wanting to be near most of them, I cared for animals. So, it came as a shock to me when it suddenly jumped from the balcony.


    I started after it at once and froze after only a step.


    Almost convinced I was being deceived, I watched the rodent unfurl skin folds from its armpits or belly and they caught the wind at once, carrying him to safety with ease. Me and my Doppelganger dove into work after that. With the village already rocking our wear, we were able to invest the entirety of the time into creating and testing a creation that was sure to catch the eyes of any passersby. And just in time for the long-awaited trips to the coast too.


    While one caravan was heading to Wolfwater on a charity mission, ours was headed to Luton for the sake of commerce. The caravan consisted of my and Eric¡¯s wagon behind Liam and his team of scouts taking point. Behind us was Letta in her wagon, followed by Kriss¡¯ son Brock and his two cooled wagons of agricultural goods to be sold. Behind him were four wagons filled with various craftsmen, which were brought up at the rear by Joe Rodin and his wagon. In addition to that were five geomancers to clear and level the path as we went and a guard for each wagon, plus Mayor Silas and Yaramin Springwood under heavy guard in the middle.


    Unlike any other caravan, we departed at dusk. With our clones at the reigns, each caravan traveled through the night while the riders took to a night of planning and rest before we left the confines of our territory and the tumultuous two-month, nonstop journey to the coast got underway.

 184 - Mirfield

    Letta Sinclare.


    ***


    From Hill Base to the Epethian coast. It was the second time I traveled by caravan. Though the first was nowhere near as long. Still, the second was far more luxurious. Our wagons, slender and long coffin-like structures on wheels, used Ed¡¯s modular designs to make the most use of the limited space. With one mostly to myself, it may as well have been a castle on wheels.


    I spent some of my savings on it to have it as nice as I wanted and filled with everything I needed while on the road. A heat source and chair to drink tea in and a nice window to look through while we traveled. A loft bed, like Amun¡¯s. And, most importantly, a workspace for my craft.


    While it was beautiful and worked perfectly, the blasted thing had wheels that bounced as they ran over sticks and lurched as they trudged through the mud. Making for a far less graceful ride than skis on snow. It made working impossible. But still, the ride was luxurious. If not the most boring thing I had yet to experience. Besides reading, my only source of entertainment was bothering Giorno or Ryban, my ¡®guard,¡¯ whenever I could and doing some occasional exploring whenever the skies opened up. But eventually, Silas and Yaramin led us through the Drorian checkpoint without issue and we arrived at our destination.


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    It was by no right more impressive than the Twin Cities. However, it was different enough to give me and Giorno the wide eyes seen in all impressed tourists. Castles. Fortresses. Towers. Villas. And docks, so many docks were spread across the horizon to an endless distance ahead of us. Each structure was massive in size and grew colossal in scale as we approached. Then we became truly impressed.


    Ships that could dwarf the base floor of Corvus Tower were seen in droves in various parts of their construction. Some were skeletons of wood and steel while others were nearly completed towers meant to float atop the water. All were being worked on by an array of folk that included humans, halflings, and dwarves. It was¡­ enchanting to watch. It made it far too easy to get lost in awe. And getting lost in awe made it easy for passersby to realize we were from outside the empire. But two out of dozens of foreigners wasn¡¯t enough to raise any brows, thankfully enough.


    While the sights continued to pass me by, Silas brought us further away from the central market and towards the posh hills of Mirfield before we eventually stopped at a massive square building with a domed glass roof. Stationed all around it were caravans much like ours, being inspected by individuals wearing flashy suits and weird cylindrical hats.*


    ¡°Finally! We¡¯re here.¡± Ryban stopped and stretched with a loud groan. "Now things get difficult."


    ¡°What is this place?¡± I asked, then immediately knew the answer.


    But he said it anyway. ¡°The auction house.¡±

 185 - The Price of Life

    Major Johann Silas.


    3 months prior.


    ***


    ¡°Alright.¡± I waddled up to Letta, Giorno, Yaramin, and Rodin. ¡°Our wares are registered. We have our numbers. Now here comes the hard part.¡±


    I paused to give myself a deep sigh in an attempt to calm my nerves. Though, I could swear all it did was increase my anxiety. ¡°We''re here to purchase slaves so that we can free them,¡± I whispered while gesturing between Yaramin and I. ¡°The rule is to purchase those without families unless families can be¡­¡± I swallowed. ¡°Purchased without splitting them apart. We will handle that responsibility.¡± I gestured between us two once more. ¡°All I ask is that- no matter what you hear or see- all I ask is that you don''t cause a scene.¡±


    ¡°You have my word.¡± Giorno bowed immediately. He was a chivalrous one. Honorable and loyal, if not a bit hedonistic. But I worried about Letta. She could wear her heart on her sleeve at times. And in this place, such a thing could be traumatizing.


    I warned them as best as I could have. I briefed them on how the auctioning process went. Then we entered. Due to Mirfield¡¯s proximity to Luton, the first list of items to be auctioned off were ships and ship parts, along with the tools associated with making or operating them. In which, a few of our artisans who were native to here made a bit of coin. But the majority of us sat back and waited anxiously for the last calls to be made so the event could move on to the next set of items.


    It was then that the majority of our coin was made. The list started with common and led up to the rare materials before it moved on to artisanal goods. Our tools, weapons, and equipment all fared as much as we expected. But Giorno and Letta became instant phenomenons. Auctioneers were bidding left and right and in waves to be the first, second, third, and eventually, the hundredth-and-somethingth person to purchase and show off such articulate wear. Tens of thousands of coins worth of profit were earned, by not only them but every other artisan as well. And most of it was spent on the liberation of slaves.


    However, that wouldn¡¯t come until the livestock auctions came and went. Being living creatures, the house decided it¡¯d be best to save them for the finale. Giving the auctioneers the freedom to stay and peruse for more items without worrying about caring for their new possessions. It was smart. But sickening.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Due to the long journey, the lack of accommodations, and our arrangements with Colis, we purchased no livestock but maintained a list of strong and fast steeds or beasts of burden to procure in the future. And then came the hard part.


    What made it worse was that Giorno and Letta were both behind me as I approached the slaver. I could practically feel the heat radiating off them as her face widened into a smile.


    ¡°Johan Silas.¡± I lowered my head in greeting, just barely.


    ¡°Okay!¡± She beamed. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­ ooh! Forty slaves! Wow!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, wow.¡± I groaned. ¡°I¡¯d also like twenty sets of negstone manacles- for our prisoners,¡± I added with a pained smile.


    ¡°Gotcha.¡± She nodded without a care, then put on a childish pouting face after referring to her list. ¡°Unfortunately, we¡¯re all out of manacles. All we have are negstone back pins at the moment, but I can give you half off if you¡¯re interested?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± I groaned.


    ¡°Great!¡± She smiled wider. ¡°Okay! I have you for¡­ eight adults, aged twenty and above. Two males, at three hundred gold apiece. Plus six females, at five hundred apiece. And then¡­ five male teenagers, aged between thirteen and nineteen, at six hundred each. Plus four female teenagers of the same age range at a thousand each. Then¡­ six male children, aged three to twelve, at twelve hundred gold apiece. And four females at fifteen hundred apiece.


    ¡°And lastly, thirteen infants!¡± She beamed in some sort of twisted celebration. ¡°Wow! You plan to keep them a long time, huh?¡±


    ¡°Mhmm¡± I nodded through a gag.


    ¡°Okay!¡± She nodded ¡°Eight infant females, at three thousand gold each, and five infant males at twenty-four hundred gold each. Plus twenty negstone pins at ten gold a piece but at half off¡­ that equates to a grand total of fifty-nine thousand and nine hundred gold. Keep in mind that your purchase comes with a six-month supply of rations for your return to your home of origin. Also included in your Slave Master package are extra manacles; two whips, one for thrashing and one for lashing, as well as recommendations on how to care for your slaves. The Mirfield Auction House is not responsible for its health once the purchase is complete, and we do apologize for our paltry catalog this evening.


    ¡°It- it''s fine.¡± I stammered. Then I took the damn quill, signed the damn papers, and watched the damned people head outside to find my wagon and ferry their loot inside. Meanwhile, a voice was pushed through clenched teeth behind me.


    ¡°Letta Sinclare. One infant male and female. Here.¡±


    The sound of a heavy sack of metal was heard hitting the counter. But the woman behind it was undeterred. ¡°Oh! You got lucky! Siblings! I¡¯ll bring them right out!¡±

 186 - Immigrants

    Giorno Nojo.


    ***


    I didn¡¯t sleep that night.


    To be entirely truthful, I¡¯m surprised I even remained standing in that room. I¡¯m surprised I was able to keep my cool.


    The stench. The sights. It was¡­ overwhelming. Even thinking about it now makes me want to puke all over this parchment. To hold an infant orphan in the air and shout out a price as if it was a bargain on a prime cut of meat. It was utterly disgusting. And sad.


    I didn¡¯t sleep that night, for I cried.


    I sobbed.


    I bawled in my wagon like Letta bawled in hers. But where she was attempting to comfort a pair of children who could hardly talk, I spent the night talking with myself. I cleaned myself up and emerged from my wagon to see everyone else approaching in the light of dawn.


    Again, Silas took care of the hard part and kept the soon-to-be-freed slaves with him, though he didn¡¯t share the good news as a way to not arouse suspicion.


    That too hurt. But I knew it was logical. Forty enslaved people would have no reason to be ecstatic about leaving the coast under new masters. Even if we had full autonomy in how we treated them, it was best not to raise suspicion.


    Along with Eric and our guard, Vell, we were riding with one of the two men we freed along with his two daughters, aged thirteen and twelve. They remained withdrawn for the entire time thus far. Not that I blamed them. But it still pained me to see. It wasn¡¯t until we were a day past the checkpoint that Silas broke the news. Naturally, they were skeptical and reluctant to hear it. But over time, the father who was riding with us, Anta was his name, opened up to us. We learned that he was a widow and was born a slave due to some crime his parents committed before he was born. He never knew what it was, nor did his daughters. But they were born into slavery all the same. That''s how the majority of slaves came to be.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Hearing it made us furious, Eric and Vell and me. They apologized for things they¡¯d never done to the man or his kids, nor any other slave. And although Amun dictated we be unapologetic, I apologized too. Not because I hadn¡¯t done anything sooner. That would be absurd. Nor was it because I didn¡¯t buy any slaves for the sake of freeing them. No matter how noble the ends seemed, I couldn¡¯t bring myself to do such a thing as buy a living creature like some coat in a shop. No, I apologized because of my naivety. I apologized because I believed I would travel the realms and see cultures just as vibrant and amazing as the one I grew up in.


    I knew such a thing was improbable. But still, I believed it to be reality.


    Now though, I had a purpose.


    I decided I would do as Amun did and teach them during the ride back. For weeks upon weeks, I shared everything I knew and told them all about the only person I¡¯d ever call my Master. Though he would never allow me to call him such a thing.


    Our return to Hill Base came by the seventh month of the year. Our final rest stop seemed a commemorative one, though it was only so that Silas could gather our new citizens to be taken to the Witch¡¯s Hut to have their pins removed- and not the ones Silas purchased. In doing so, the rest of us were granted the liberty to return to the Bureau and have our clones unload our profits.


    Free of her responsibilities, Letta joined me in the tavern for a much-needed drink. On the way, the stench and bile and filthiness that seemed to have been following me everywhere seemed to fade. I was once again in a familiar place and among sane people- my people. And they were crowding the sidewalks with the full fervor of a festival. Until¡­ I realized.


    ¡°Are¡­ do we have visitors?¡±


    Letta said nothing but acknowledged I said at least something by turning her eyes about the environment before we entered Claire¡¯s Bar.


    ¡°Gio! Letta!¡± Her daughter, Larissa called out to us at once, and before I reacted, Letta dragged me across the room to speak with her. ¡°Welcome back.¡± She smiled. ¡°Your Doppelgangers have been waiting for you. And a lot of the immigrants have been asking for you too.¡±


    ¡°Immigrants?¡± I recoiled in surprise. ¡°Have we been gone that long?¡±


    Ignoring my question, she only pointed across the bar and said. ¡°They¡¯re right there. Oh!¡± She added. ¡°And you have, we''ve gotten quite a bit of news as of late.¡±


    Now, I was ignoring her. My eyes were scanning the area her vague gesture pointed to. And then they widened to an impossible degree. ¡°They¡¯re¡­ from Corvus.¡±


    ¡°What kind of news?¡± Letta asked. "From who?"


    ¡°From no one other than the Emperor.¡± I heard her smile through her words. ¡°From Amun.¡±

 187 - Classy Introductions

    Amun.


    11 Septara, 1491.


    ***


    While our little extended weekend was indeed pleasant, the majority of the time had been dedicated to the Butte''s development. By the start of the new week, much of the landscaping and exterior work had been completed. Although, there was still much to do. Despite my absence, however, the work continued without pause; even as our studies resumed with the three parties meeting in the gym for class. Inside was Doyle, Olga, Zeff, and the elves I met just days ago, standing beside a slew of other individuals who ranged from halfling to orc.


    "Good morning, Pages!" Zeff clapped as we entered and huddled around the lot of them. "Before we get down to business, we have a few announcements to discuss. First and foremost, it is as the Headmaster stated. Courses will continue as normal following this week with attendance being optional. However!" He clapped again. "It is mandatory that you create and submit at least one crafted item for Ms. Godzuik''s class. So too must you heal at least two people in Mrs. Licht''s healing course!"


    "Additionally." Doyle cut in. "You''ll find Camp Crystals to be available for purchase around campus. With them, bridges can be formed to any location you favor within the wilds. I highly advise you to look them over after class. But first comes introductions."


    With a wave, our eyes were brought to the line of mostly inhuman instructors for the Classes standing with mixed levels of interest. They held or stood below signs that would give us an inclination as to what they were. But I could tell at a glance that they were strong. A few of them like Abbot Eiriol had spiritual bodies like Grandpa Lich''s. Vessels filled with mana from core to skin. And somewhere deep inside were their mana wells. Mostly small in stature, but often surrounded by other growths and cores. Aside from those mutations, however, the only determining factor of their occupations came from their body language and dress code. There was a human dressed in the iconic robes of a wizard, for example. But no hat, unfortunately. And Titus, oh Titus. He was dressed in a dazzling suit of plated armor, minus the helmet to expose a lip curled ever so slightly into a sneer while he shot lasers through his eyes.


    While he aimed those lasers at me, however, Toril aimed lasers of his own at him.


    "Hi! Hi! Welcome! Welcome!" An unfamiliar voice paired with a familiar accent pulled my smirk away from Titus and towards a gnomish woman who was a mirror image of the man himself. "I''m Zoop!" She beamed with long, exaggerated words. "I''m an Artificer! A Grandmaster Enchanter! I¡¯m the Guildmaster of the Bodhi Tree¡¯s Artificer Subguild, Agnes Arcanum. Ranked 12th in the Optimus Regni if you were curious. Yes, we are! Yes, we are! We teach Novices how to take on the craft. Nice to meet ya! I¡¯m sure to expect ya!"


    After such a curious display of rambling and stalking away, next to step up was a burly man with dull gray skin and sharp tusks that protruded from his lower jaw. He was easily two meters and change, with thick bands of muscle bulging in his arms as he waved to us. "Um. Hello." He boomed in a monotonously bassy voice. "I''m Urodar. Barbarian Instructor. If you would like to rage, I will teach you."


    The next was one that I assumed was a halfling. However, upon closer inspection, I realized he was another of the Fae version of halflings, like Zoop and Zook.


    "Xalji Lammog, bard extraordinaire!" The Gnome sang. He was around a meter and change tall but dressed in a pristine two-piece suit of crimson and black silks that set him above the tanned leathers and rough hides of those to his sides. Chestnut skin and jet black hair tied into a ponytail exposed the pointed and pierced ears, giving me the impression of the many influencers and tube celebrities that existed across the web. But unlike them, he sold it well. Even as he danced in place and sang to the heavens. "I allow my Bards to Ball! To sing! To dance. To do all! So too, will I teach you! Any college that you please! Any path that you may need."


    His bow led Corym to introduce himself as the Ranger instructor as he so claimed, and following him was another orc or half-orc woman who taught the Fighters in the Kasian Empire, Naki.


    "I am Eiriol. Abbot of the Bodhi Tree''s Monastery. Only four of you here have what is needed to become a Monk." She paused scanning her eyes around the lot of us. "Rua Nun. Veil of Shadows. Amun. And." She paused to smile greatly at the person next to me. "Peter Boyd. I expect to see you shortly."


    While she backed away, Dende''s dog stepped forward. Grumbling under his teeth, he turned his beady eyes over the crowd for a long moment. Then took a deep breath. "I am Titus Zlock, known by some as the Storm King. But here." He exhaled greatly. "I am the Paladin Instructor. If you have been trained as a knight prior to coming here, you are welcome to seek me out, come the appropriate time."


    "Storm King," I muttered. "That''s cute."


    "Turpin Goold." A meek halfling waved to us after Indra gave her introduction. Dressed in a flowing cowl, all we could see of him was a gentle smirk that peered from under his hood as he said. "I''m the Rogue Instructor down in Brybs County."


    "Bribes." Zakira laughed. "That''s funny."


    Even the robed human laughed. Though it seemed his chortle was more out of anxiety than humor, as he shied away from us further. Even while saying. "Coleman Carr, Wizard Instructor."


    The last of the Instructors was a light-brown-skinned woman with the same golden-yellow eyes as Felicity, Lance, and Dende. Yet another of the many leaves, hailing from the Lux family tree. "Good morning, everyone. My name is Ferris Licht, I''m the Archwitch of the Chaulort Principality and the Witch Instructor for the Bodhi Tree''s students. I''ll be seeing you all here soon for your introductory healing course, so feel free to say hello, even if you don''t plan on being a witch."


    "Now that the introductions are underway, the rest of the day will be for you all to gain insight into the Classes you wish to become," Doyle said, stepping forward. "Each Class abides by its own lifestyle and has its own rules, both in and out of combat. Learning such ways should be your focus for today and tomorrow. You won''t see the Instructors again until the evolution ritual, after all. So ensure you make the most of this time!


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    "That said." He sighed. "You may choose to dismiss yourselves if you feel you''ve learned all you could. And, as Mr. Yurich said, attendance is optional going forward. You will still be required to return to campus and check in once a week, but you are hereby free to explore the wilds as you see fit. That is all."


    Those last three words served to scatter the students like roaches. To Titus went Toril, Lucia, and Issac Galliard. Perhaps others as well, but I turned before they arrived to see Jaimess approaching Corym alongside Zohnos, Zaos, Rhot, and Smeal; with Twig, Duke, and Rebecca on approach.


    Scarlett, on the other hand, surprised everyone by skipping off to see Ferris. She was joined shortly thereafter by the other Strifling, Phelia. They, however, were the only prospective Witches in the class. As for Wizards, Ash surprisingly stepped up to Carr, but he was the only one. Instead, almost everyone went to see Naki about Fighting. Including Samson, Kao, Slate, Winston, and many more. So too was the case for Barbarians, of which Roheisa was unsurprisingly a part of.


    "So, I guess I''m a Monk?"


    I snapped my eyes to Peter to see his eyes wide with excitement rather than uncertainty. "Is there anything you''d rather be?" I was going to ask, and so I did.


    "I could maybe make a good Wizard." He shrugged. "But." He then sighed heavily and let out a small chuckle on the inhale. "I''ve never thought I''d be told I''m worthy of becoming a monk."


    "You''re worthy of becoming almost anything you put your mind to, Pete. All it takes is time and dedication." I gave him a pat on the back and stepped toward the bald Felipian and Rua standing next to the old drow.


    "We are unlike the monks you may have heard of. We have a hunger for knowledge, wisdom, and peace, but will not abstain from war. We seek elegance and favor technique in our martial ability, rather than embody the destructive characteristics of the other martial classes. We are in tune with the spiritual forces of these realms. And within ourselves. Above all, we seek the perfection of self. If that does not describe you." Abbot Eiriol jerked her head to the side. "The way of the monk is not what you seek, for that is how all who call themselves an evolved monk can be described.


    "Regardless of the way we choose to walk, we monks utilize the eclectic energies of life. What others refer to as, ''the emission of mana from all living things,'' we call Ki. Now." She swept her eyes over us during a light pause. "I can see that all of you have formed the necessary paths within your spirits. This is good." She nodded. "Now, that they are formed, however, you must not inhibit yourself by wearing armor, as it will interfere with the circulation through your flesh. It is this." She raised her finger. "Circulation, that should be your focus. But not with mana. With this."


    She raised her finger, and an ethereal, nearly transparent blue fire flickered to life around her nail. Then she reached up to flick Rua in the forehead. He reeled back in pain and I had to force myself from laughing. Then Veil of Shadows was hit and had the same reaction. Then Peter. Then, when she was standing before me, Abbot Eiriol''s face curled into a wicked smile before a micrometeorite seemed to impact between my brows, and I too found myself rubbing my head, grimacing at the old drow as she giggled maniacally.


    "Remember this feeling as you meditate." She sighed once everyone, including her, recovered. "For some, it helps to focus on the Ki of others rather than within themselves. Regardless, you have six months to grow familiar with this energy if you wish to obtain a Master Class. There is nothing for me to teach you until then."


    Saying nothing more, she turned. Leaving the four of us rubbing our heads and staring indignantly at her back as she drifted away.


    "Ki." Peter gasped in disbelief. "That power is unbelievable."


    "Yeah." I snorted. "Now are you convinced?"


    "I already was." He laughed back. Then turned to look up to the now-distant moon. "So I guess that''s it for today then?"


    "I''m going to talk to Zoop first," I said. "Then I''m going back to work."


    Peter''s brows rose incredulously. "It''s still not done?"


    "It''s a big place." I shrugged.


    "Excuse me." Rather than wait for us to turn, Rua stepped out in front of Peter and me and bowed. "My party members have told me much about you, Amun. I have been waiting to meet you to form my own opinion of you, however. My name is Rua Nun."


    "I remember you. Well met." I bowed in turn. "I see you''ve been taking good care of my friend."


    "Y- yes." He took a step back, hand twitching while his eyes darted down in surprise. "D-


    "Don''t get the wrong idea." I held out my palm. "He chose you. That''s all there is to it."


    "V- very well." He nodded.


    "Alright then." I smiled at him and Shadows. "There''s no better way for us to get to know each other than to meditate together. But first, I have to talk to Zoop about Artificing. Veil of Shadows, Rua." I motioned to them both. "Meet Peter."


    As I expected, Ed was already neck-deep in conversation with Zoop by the time I arrived. And there were others as well. Mostly dwarven, plus one of the Epethians. Matthew Reid.


    "Hi! Hi!" Zoop pushed past Els, Forgruna, and Thordrohilda upon seeing me. "Welcome, Welcome!" She took my hand in her comically small paw and shook it generously. "I heard all about you from me Pa. Yes, I have, yes I have! You and Ed here are both prospective Grandmaster Artificers! How exciting, how exciting!"


    "Yes. Very." I nodded and watched her bounce up and down in joy before it faded with a sudden eeriness. "Well, I''m sure you know. But the Grandmaster Path entails all crafts, both magical and non-magical. If what you say is true and you''ve got an industry behind ya, then you''ll be starting pretty high up the ladder. You¡¯ll be needing to learn potions before you take on enchantments. So if you want to join these ones when you evolve, you''ll be needing these." With a mere flick of her hand, a book flew from her sleeve and swerved as it hit my domain and fell into a slow orbit around my body.


    Naturally, I plucked it from the air to begin flicking through the pages while Zoop asked the others about their intended specialties. I listened in if only to hear Els state he wanted to be a Grandmaster Weaponsmith and Forgruna Drakehorne wanted to be a Grandmaster Armorer. Much to my surprise, though, Matthew wanted to be a Demolitionist. For what reason, was beyond my scope of knowledge, but it served to get the main mind fantasizing about the potentially endless subclasses out there. More so, it left me with a hypothesis and an experiment that I wished to enact on my future officers.


    The book, on the other hand, was an Alchemical cookbook that not only contained many rare recipes, but had extensive instructions on how to find and identify a long list of exotic ingredients and distill, synthesize, or extract them for storage or use. It was a veritable gold mine. A gold mine I added to the highest priority of things for my undead to find while the Bobs were continuing the work. For now, though, my business was done, so I left the gym and went across the hall for a quick pit stop in the shop to peruse the new contents.


    As advertised, one of the many items now included in the shop was a similar type of seed crystal we used to create a portal within the Cove. In addition to that were tons and tons of materials that could be found in the mines or elsewhere. The common metals. Bones and a few magical monster parts. Even a few potion ingredients. Several thousand points later, I stowed the instruction pamphlet for my seed crystal and the other things in my shadow before skipping off through the cafeteria to grab a quick snack and taking flight towards the Butte.

 188 - Unsupervised

    After two nights and a day of temporally dilated work, I found myself back on campus. Specifically, within the mines with my classmates for Olga¡¯s lessons on refining. Though, to say it was a safety certification would have been more apt. While she indeed gave us tips and guidance in refining particular materials, the true purpose of the block of instruction was to ensure each of us could safely operate the enchantments within the forges; as the heat they were capable of producing had the potential of causing quite the accident rather easily. Having already shown her my ability to smelt without enchantments, however, that left what essentially amounted to a free period for me. Rather than waste it by lounging around, though, I decided to spend the few hours smelting various ores into a number of alloys and ingots.


    It took two hours to get everyone certified. In that time, I managed to smelt a considerable amount of materials to facilitate my coming plans. While I wanted to smelt a bit more, I also wanted to move forward with my other plans. And now that Olga¡¯s mandatory certification had come and gone, now was the time to do so.


    I gave Toril and the others the signal before the class scattered. In the meanwhile, I took a detour to the cafeteria and scanned my mental library to learn what I could of monster parts and their uses. Specifically unicorn horns. Carbury¡¯s was just over 70 centimeters in length, albeit no more girthed than my wrist at its thickest point.


    A meal later, I confirmed that it could make powerful wands and superior potions alike and learned it could give healing properties to the things created with it. Most interestingly, it could be ground into dust and made into a powerful drug quite easily. All one had to do was snort it. Drugs aside, with such a large horn, I had more than a few more uses out of it and thus made up a few blueprints that I had in mind. However, the work to bring them into creation would have to wait.


    For now, I remained in the cafeteria while Zakira and Peter finished up their lunch, though I said little. Instead, I used Pora Bora¡¯s link to check up on the project from above to find it proceeding along wonderfully. All that was left now was the planting of crops, decor, and the finishing touches on the residential areas. Things that could easily be done through one more round in the Chrono Dial. Taxing though it was on my Well.


    ***


    Hogaz.


    ***


    ¡°Didn¡¯t expect to see you here, Mr. Do-Good.¡±


    I didn¡¯t need to hear to know who it was. Her smell gave her away long before she even approached. She smelled of bark and sap mixed with salted meat and ale. Sweat and blood. Steel and grime. She was my antithesis like Lance was to the one we came here to meet. She was like me but starkly different all the same. With red skin instead of blueish-green. Tusks, much more curved and pointed than mine. And most importantly, she embraced the wild blood that we shared while I sought to control it.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I sighed without facing her. ¡°Well, I fully expected to see you here, Elurial.¡±


    ¡°Seems we¡¯re after the same thing, after all, Hogaz.¡± She brushed past me with a chortle. Then threw her eyes toward the distance like all the others. Like mine.


    There were no words to signify his arrival. Only a surge of intense mana slapped against us all, forcing a wave in the crowd that pressed us toward the self-proclaimed Devil without relenting.


    I saw him before. Many times. Though, never from this close. He was¡­ small. Thin. Short. Almost human-like. But with an unsettling grace and long locks tied up messily on top of his head to reveal his pointed ears. His uniform resembled a monk''s or priest''s robe. A tight, sleeveless garb with asymmetrical buttons paired with baggy trousers tucked into leg wraps or thin boots on the lower legs. He had the thin, pointed, androgynous look all elves shared. Though the bulbous nose gave a strong inclination that he was mixed with human; or at least something. And while his smile was genuinely warm, his eyes held the familiar cold and calculating look I¡¯d seen at times throughout my short life.


    A devil indeed. And a drow.


    It was quite the combination.


    ¡°Thank you all for coming.¡± Amun bowed at the neck, then began pacing before us. Shifting his eyes between ours as we went. ¡°As some of you may have heard, the Emperor of Polaris and I butted heads shortly after my encounter.¡±


    A wave of gasps erupted not from just my lips. But nearly everyone else¡¯s, save those closest to him. Though he paid it no mind. He simply turned about to pace in front of us once more. ¡°Now, we¡¯re on each other¡¯s shit lists. But I have no intention to instigate or escalate the situation further. However.¡± He pointedly turned again. ¡°I won¡¯t ignore the possibility of Dende Morningstar seeking retribution against me eventually. As such, I deemed it necessary to push the development of my guild forward.


    ¡°I want to make one thing clear!¡± He stopped halfway and turned to face us with a resolve harder than a wall of pure diamond. ¡°I am Amun of the Nox. We are known as devils. I am also half-drow. If you join me, you will be making a deal. With a Devil. And there¡¯s nothing we take more seriously than deals.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true!¡± Zarzok chipped in from somewhere. ¡°The consequences for a devil breaking their own deals are¡­ unspeakable.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Amun calmly nodded as he turned again. ¡°However, I am not tied to the same rules as my Devilkin. Wherein their deals have to be written out and are used solely to condemn the souls of mortals; my deals are written in mana and can be used to curse or bless those as I see fit. All else, however, is the same. If you agree to join me.¡± He paced to the other side. ¡°If you make your pledge, there is no turning back until my business in Maru is settled. If you pledge, there is a large chance that Polaris will see you as an enemy by association. If you pledge, your life will remain dynamic and difficult until you retire. The next six months will be filled with gruesome training and fierce battles. Your years will show you the worst hells imaginable. Some of your accomplishments may never see the light of day.


    ¡°If you pledge, you will come to personally know the Shadow of Death. You will see the Abyss manifested before you. If you pledge, you will give me your very soul.¡± He declared, then let the declaration hang in the air for a long minute. Then he turned. ¡°In exchange, I will give you my everything. If you desire knowledge, my mind is hereby open to you. If you desire wealth, you will be paid like royalty. If you desire fame, land, or strength, you shall have it in excess. Whatever you think of or whatever dream you may have, I will devote my entire being towards obtaining it, if I don¡¯t already have access to it.


    ¡°If you pledge, you will be among the highest-ranking and most-esteemed officers of my guild, now and forevermore. You, the founding members. Emperors and Empresses in my Empire of Empires.¡± Amun softly said as he halted before us and spread his arms. ¡°Should you join, you will soon seek out members for your companies next year. You will soon raise the foundation of your future nations. You will train your followers, as I will soon train you. More so.¡± His smile widened. ¡°You will be spoiled with the toys and tools I will create to give you boundless freedom across these realms. Most importantly.¡± He grinned wider. ¡°Your souls will be saved from an eternity of torture in the Underworld.


    "Death will be but a doorway for you, unlocked so you may waltz through with ease. That is the least I can do, should you make a pledge to me. The name of my guild is the Legio Noctis, and keep in mind, that our ranks are open to everyone.¡± He raised a single, wagging finger. ¡°Just as you find yourselves among human and halfling and strifling and devil. You will later find yourselves among the living, the dead, saints, and sinners alike. Whether you choose to serve under the Moon¡¯s light or within Twilight, you have between now and our ritual to decide. But keep in mind that the longer you wait, the more strenuous your education will be.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°So then, should you decide to become one of my Eternal Legionaries, simply come to me with mana in your voice and tell me the price of your service. And, please, hold nothing back.¡± Came his final declaration. And at that moment, I saw a sovereign standing before¡­ people. Not his people. Not his subjects. Just¡­ people. What a sight that was. Like seeing the difference between an octopus and a giant squid for the first time. Or between a giant squid and a Kraken. It was¡­ greatness. Madness inducing greatness. And it was terrifying. But what was truly scary was the sudden realization of how easily the two overlapped.


    Those from his homeland- Toril, Roheisa, and the others- made their pledges and slowly scanned the crowd for the first to move. It felt like eons that we were standing there. But eventually, the first person stepped forward. It was the girlfriend. Followed by Opal and the other vampire, pledging their undying lives away at the cost of nothing. That was nothing special, though. They didn¡¯t even have souls. But then again¡­ his monk friend did the same. Peter. He didn¡¯t need a reason, he said. Though it was clear to everyone that he simply had nowhere else to go. Still, even if he had, I at least felt that his decision would have been the same. After all, that was the case for the Epethian Prince.


    It was a shock to everyone, including me. When the proud Prince approached the one who¡¯d beaten him so badly at the beginning of the year, I couldn¡¯t help but gasp in astonishment. And then again as he made his pledge. ¡°While I atone for the sins of my ancestors, I ask for your aid in bringing the people of Epeth to an honorable future. In doing this, I, Winston Epeth, offer my services to the Legio Noctis.¡±


    ¡°And in exchange, I offer my services to the prosperity of the people of Epeth, uplifting them and their lands to a state of honor our fellow Maruleans can be proud of.¡± Amun bowed in turn. And when his words were spent, the shadows creeping in from the edges of the woodline seemed to darken and recede within seconds.


    ¡°In exchange for the same dream as that of my Master; I, Isaac Galliard, offer my services to the Legio Noctis.¡±


    That one was the shield knight. Though he was Winston¡¯s and thus had to follow his master, he spawned a wave of apprehension in the other Epethians. Which was curious, but overshadowed by the three Amazonians approaching in a line.


    As one, they swore fealty in exchange for assistance in finding their lost motherland, Amazonia, waiting to be found somewhere in the continent they all obsessed over. And Amun seemed more than happy to oblige, claiming he¡¯d help them rebuild it to its former glory and ensure it would have the sovereignty it once had. Only then did the rest of the Epethians follow suit. Though for a variety of different reasons.


    Only the commoners, Mary Farmer and Rommy Peak, had admirable goals. A peaceful plot of land with a nice big home for their friends and families back in Maru; in exchange, Amun promised them an empire where the friends and family they were to meet could live as well. All the others wished for mountains of gold and trinkets in addition to what Winston and Issac wished for. Though still, Amun was more than happy to oblige their wishes. But yet another awkward period ensued following that.


    Eventually, however, it was broken by the four Goliaths approaching as the Amazonians did. Albeit to declare they were only in it for the endless opportunities for challenge and growth. To which Amun declared there would be opportunities to last multiple lifetimes. At that point, what seemed like the entirety of Copper Party approached. Only to be cut off by Zarzok prancing forward like a gazelle.


    ¡°All I want is to rule one of the Hells.¡± He said in that overly pompous manner of his. ¡°Just one layer. Everything else is an added bonus. Give me that, the services of Zarzok, the Executioner, is at the beck and call of the Legio Noctis. I don¡¯t care how long it takes.¡±


    ¡°One of the Hells you shall have. I can''t wait to see what you make of the place.¡± Amun grinned, and the darkness seemed to grin alongside him. Growing around us as if to consume everything before it faded like each time before. Opening the floor for his party to approach.


    The human called Samson was first. ¡°I want to become a legendary fighter,¡± he declared. ¡°Legendary unlike any who came before. Like a super soldier!¡±


    ¡°I want to live freely,¡± Rebecca Plassein said next. ¡°I want to be free of my family and those like them.¡±


    Then Curious Twig. ¡°I want to do many things. Great things. Unbelievable things.¡±


    ¡°I would like to create my own flock and explore the skies of the realms as you intend to, my friend.¡± Duccec folded his wings and bowed.


    And then Rhody stepped forward. ¡°I want a posh life, an easy retirement, and a lot fuckin'' of gold along the way. The best equipment too. I¡¯ll build the greatest thieves guild the realms have seen yet.¡±


    ¡°I want to explore Maru,¡± Toni sheepishly declared. Then stepped forward with a bit more confidence in her eyes. ¡°And the other realms too! But¡­ I¡¯ve always wanted to see the birthplace of our species. Even if the Tree of Life is dead.¡±


    Perhaps it was because I hailed from Sirius, but the most shocking declaration of all came from the Bombyx daughter, Scarlett. She approached with pure conviction in her eyes and shouted. ¡°I want to found my own grove and make a new branch of the Bombyx family!¡±


    It was then that Amun¡¯s smile widened the brightest. And then I realized. He was adopting these dreams for himself. Making them his, just as much as the others. Yet, I was given no answers from my epiphany. Why he adopted these dreams was something that eluded me, yet entranced me all the same. He was deadly serious about this. And truthful to the core.


    ¡°Will you give me the endless opportunity to create? To create and... if I can''t find it, to create a new Silverforge. One that can make even Amphroduhn, the All-Smithy, shed a tear.¡±


    Me and Amun looked at one of the last members of his party at the same time. The dwarf named Elsgril stared up at Amun with beady eyes. And Amun just smiled widely. ¡°Of course!¡±


    ¡°Then I give my services to the Legio Noctis.¡± He nodded firmly, then waddled off behind him. Muttering. ¡°Better you than anyone else.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s true.¡± I sighed in resignation. Though, for whatever reason, I still didn¡¯t move. Nor did a few others. Ash, the Fire Djinni. Bazzric Baal. The two other dwarves. Phelaia. Urshure. Ritrix. And surprisingly, Elurial. If they were anything like me, they were unsure if joining Amun was the right thing to do. Of course, he seemed genuine in his words and was undoubtedly powerful enough to make them come true. But¡­ I knew nothing about him. I had yet to even speak to him. That made the notion of signing my soul away to him seem¡­ insane. More so than such a thing already seemed.


    It appeared the others agreed as well. All but Ritrix, who raised her little hand to capture Amun¡¯s attention.


    ¡°Yes?¡± He smiled warmly at the halfling girl.


    ¡°If it''s okay. Could I, like, you know.¡± She chuckled awkwardly. ¡°Hang around and get to know you a little before I make my decision?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± He shrugged at once. ¡°If that¡¯s the case for the rest of you, I¡¯ll go ahead and make you all rooms. Just give me a minute.¡±


    ¡°Did he say¡­ rooms?¡±


    Grunting softly, Bazzric turned to size me up and down and let out a small snort before he turned away. ¡°Guess those ears are just for show.¡±


    Sneering, I turned back to where Amun was. Only to see him gone. Around that spot were those who¡¯d already been sworn in, all gazing up to where Amun was floating. The moment I followed, an absurd wave of pressure slapped me right in the face. It was the same sense I felt whenever he or Lance or Ash or Silva cast any spell within a few hundred meters. But I felt nothing. Not until I gazed further beyond the gentle dunes to where our battle took place just days ago, did I feel my heart batter against my ribs.


    It was imperceptible at first. But with mana-bolstered eyes, I saw the undying shadows and skeletons moving around in a blur. Carrying strange constructs around a vast platform without end, leaving rows and rows of trees and crops in the wake of wherever they went. Blooming the tower to life with greenery in mere minutes. Myself and many others couldn¡¯t help but relocate ourselves for a better view at that moment. It took quite longer than I hoped, given the crowd. By the time I climbed a tree for a vantage point, Amun¡¯s spell had faded and he was seen descending back to the crowd with a thin film of sweat smeared across his brow that matched the one on mine; though where his was from exhausted effort, mine was from utter shock.


    The massive butte that had been just a pillar of barren stone was now much shorter, thicker, and carved with terraces, archways, and buttresses from the summit to a flat base of stone that stretched across the surface of a vast blue lake teeming with life. It was like a squat bridge support that withstood the test of time and became the only source of refuge in a vast oceanic lake.


    ¡°Come on.¡± Amun waved, and another surge of intense pressure washed over us all before our feet removed themselves from the ground. ¡°We¡¯ll start the tour.¡±

 189 - Noctis Reach

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Alright.¡± I halted myself and everyone else in midair with a sigh and looked down on the expansive ring-shaped stone platform that gave way to sandy beaches along the outer edge. ¡°Feel free to call this beach whatever you like,¡± I said, conjuring a hologram to divide the space into slender pie-shaped segments that everyone could see. ¡°The space is divided between agriculture, training, and recreation. In addition to the farms and parks, we have fighting or athletic courts and other outdoor facilities available for use. Now then.¡± I paused to land everyone near the entrance. ¡°Let¡¯s head inside.¡±


    So saying, I led them through a massive open archway that merged with a great foyer boasting an elevated dais of solid stone in the center that¡¯d been carved to make a spiral staircase leading down to the lower levels. Massive stained glass windows stretched to the ceilings twenty meters above, where they ended at a living trim of a beige-colored moss that gave off a pleasant woody scent in tandem with the hanging roots from the floors above.


    ¡°How long did it take to build this?¡± Someone gasped from the rear.


    ¡°Around fifty years. Now, come on.¡± I waved them towards the dais to lead them downstairs. ¡°I do apologize for the long flights.¡± I continued after a few ways down. ¡°The pillar is just that massive. Though the Moons and Twilight lurking within the place will allow you to move freely throughout. Now then.¡± I paused to push through a door and lead everyone into a room just as spacious as the one above.


    The difference was that the ceiling was half as high and the room was below the waterline. The entire space was floored with plush carpet and furnished around the circumference with a looping and curving sofa of layered cushions that provided a variety of angles and elevations from which to peer through the panoramic windows. Suffused in the blue light of the lake and accented by the same wood-scented moss and a quartet of shadow undead performing at the center, it provided quite the tranquil respite from any activities occurring above or below.


    ¡°No way!¡± Ritrix skipped through the room at once. ¡°A club!?¡±


    ¡°And a lounge. I¡¯ll leave the honor of naming it to you.¡± I smiled. Then waved to the half-orc staring through the window at Rod the skeletal fisherman, chasing after fish with a simple harpoon. ¡°You can stare at the fish later. But there¡¯s more to see.¡±


    Down another extensive flight of stairs brought us to the industrial center, where we poked our heads in on the oversized mills, workshops, and warehouses before we pressed on to the industrial kitchen below it.


    After we made our final stop in the storage room on the lowest level, Zarzok skipped up the stairs to approach me, shivering. Though he tried to hide it. ¡°I¡¯m curious about the logic behind this design. Heat rises, that I know. But it seems strange to have our food storage so far away.¡±


    ¡°This is only for long-term storage,¡± I said. ¡°My undead will ferry food upstairs as needed. But I designed the lower levels this way so that the heat from the kitchen wouldn¡¯t be wasted. Instead, it¡¯s carried up to the workshops to give them something to start cold forges with. Or, if necessary, to the upper levels to keep the rooms warm.¡±


    ¡°No wonder it took fifty years. I can¡¯t imagine the enchantments that went into creating this.¡± He chortled.


    "No enchantments." I shook my head. "It''s purely run by electricity."


    ¡°Regardless!¡± He spread his arms and took a whiff of the lakeside air. ¡°All we have to go is up. I imagine this is the way?¡±


    My eyes and everyone else¡¯s followed his clawed finger up to the gaping hole in the ceiling. Then I nodded. ¡°Yup.¡±


    While it was a hole, it wasn¡¯t just that. The roots from the plants and trees planted on the landing above protruded through and hung from the ceiling like living stalactites, proving a means for the unblessed to reach the upper floors. Given a little work of course. And work they did. Though, with mana bolstering it wasn¡¯t as hard as it may have seemed at first glance. For me, it involved a tightrope walk along a curiously thick root until I reached the top and drifted over to the terrace protruding through the roof, and climbed the short set of stairs.


    There were even more vines hanging from above. But around the base of the dais was an auditorium-sized half-dome sparsely adorned with busts, carvings, and tapestries created by the Bobs and a few art pieces I ¡®collected¡¯ from back home; all intermittently spaced beside the meandering trails that snaked through the park-like area to the ten-meter wide archways that yielded glimpses of equally spacious game rooms, lounges, water parks, and an arrangement of other over-scaled recreational facilities. The place was but a fraction of Corvus Tower, albeit intended for only forty-something Pages. Tilting the scale of the place more towards the ridiculous side of things. At least for now.


    After several minutes of gawking at their rec rooms, I brought everyone back to the dais to first show them the alcoves sitting adjacent to the staircases; one filled with a small spherical rock that poured out a gentle light and the other filled with a ring of golden light occluded by a dark spot. The means of locomotion for the blessed. Though for now, they were anything but and thus were resigned to climbing the vines to the second level. It was structured like the last level. With a central, vine-showered dais that stood above a domed and semi-forested landing adorned with a small art gallery. This floor, however, was dedicated to the training halls, classrooms, and labs they¡¯d be using for the next six months. Above that was one of my favorite levels of all. The library.


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    Unlike the others, it was a mostly singular round room clad in two-tone wainscoted walls and billiard-green carpet. As brilliant as it was, though, my collection of books was not. Most of the shelves contained copies of my books or the textbooks my undead wrote out and copied while I was away. Many others were empty or contained nice crystals or lesser art pieces made by the Bobs as placeholders. Still, though, it was a place many of them spent admiring. As was the art gallery on the fifth floor. Though it too was virtually empty. Filled only with the pieces created by the Bobs. I was sure, however, that many of my new subordinates would soon begin filling out the space in earnest. More so, it would reach its completion once I learned the art of enchanting. Though that was for another day.


    For now, it would be used as a dance floor. At least in the presence of Scarlett.


    I almost didn¡¯t want to stop her. But I did and guided them up to the sixth-floor landing. Wherein, unlike the lower levels, the half-dome was closed off and filled with sixteen alcoves that mostly led to arched porches. ¡°The next four floors are for your rooms. Though I use the word ¡®room¡¯ sparingly.¡± I let out a chuckle and pointed to the two open alcoves within the landing; one filled with a familiar glowing archway and the other with the furnishings of a common area. ¡°Each floor has a bridge that leads back to various parts around the structure, or back to Campus, as well as a common area for the residents on the floor. For now, all the rooms are similar. But if you get with the skeletons down below they¡¯ll build them up to your liking.


    ¡°Let¡¯s take a look.¡± I jerked my head towards the nearest door and pushed inside. Then even I had to step back in astonishment.


    It was an expansive pie-shaped cave that was acres both long and wide, with domed ceilings that, like all the other floors, stood a hundred meters high at its highest point near the balcony. Creating what felt to be a plot of land embedded in the side of a mountain. From the vertex of the wedge, we entered and were met with a moss lawn that stretched towards a relatively small house of carved stone taking up most of the right side. It was two stories high and set halfway into the wall, leaving a terraced front to face the left-most wall and open views to the front.


    ¡°You call this a room!?¡± Rhody coughed.


    ¡°As I said, sparingly.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I made it a point to not make any room face the sun directly, though mirrors and tunnels embedded between the floors and rocks will still provide lighting during the day. Each¡­ room.¡± I sighed. ¡°Has its own garden on the terrace and, as you can see.¡± I gestured to the wall. ¡°Comes with a house. They all contain the obligatory bed and bathrooms; as well as a cellar for storage, an office, and two rooms for any purpose of your choosing.


    ¡°I¡¯ll explain why they¡¯re so big and why there are so many later. But for now, we¡¯ll continue the tour.¡± So saying, I began ushering everyone out and picked them up with a Gravity Domain once outside. ¡°The eleventh floor is where my room is.¡± I gestured to the doorless dome as we passed. ¡°My lab and study too. Above that, however.¡± I spread my arm around the hourglass-shaped room on the twelfth floor. ¡°Is the observatory and the chapels.¡±


    Though it was a half-dome like all the other floors, two bulbous protrusions of stone interrupted the space like alcoves seen from the other side of the wall. Centered on each of them were oversized doors of wood and iron that¡¯d been carved and inlaid with a symbol of a crescent moon on one and a symbol of an eclipsing sun on the other. The unoccupied space, however, was left open to the winds like the grand foyer far below and lipped around the rim with an overhang that functioned as an observation deck for the floor and doubled as a sunshade and drainage system for the floors below.


    ¡°As you can see.¡± I gestured above. ¡°That was the last central opening. However, there are stairs and ladders around the observation deck that lead to the cave pool and the rooftop grove above. "Welcome to Noctis Reach.¡± I conclusively clasped my hands. ¡°Your training doesn¡¯t begin until tomorrow. So feel free to explore the tower. Learn about yourselves, or me, and make sure you rest well. But before you go.¡± I paused to infuse shadow mana into my voice. ¡°Doppelgangers, Rise.¡±


    Though it was my policy for only my subordinates to have them, I spawned Doppelgangers for everyone. Even the apprehensive ones. It was only a matter of time until they joined, after all.


    ¡°Meet your-¡±


    [Doppelgangers: Living umbral clones, spawned from the bridge between this realm and the Shadow Plane to assist their originals. Doppelgangers Spawned - 897.]


    ¡°Doppelgangers,¡± I belatedly said. Then stared at my grimoire floating between me and my subordinates before continuing. ¡°They¡¯ll be your teachers from tomorrow onward, and they¡¯ll help you get around the tower. That¡¯s all.¡±


    Quite to my amusement, they scattered with the wind. Even Toril and all the others went off to claim their rooms. Leaving me alone on the observation tower, staring at my grimoire. ¡®Now then.¡¯ I sighed out a raspberry. ¡®Why did you open?¡¯


    As if it heard me, the inky white words soon began shifting atop the abyssal parchment to first erase the page, then form new words right before my eyes.


    [Through giving these hundreds of clones the freedom to live and then spreading them far and wide, they have learned to live independently and act without order. Though still, they craved the call of their creator to lead them. As time passed, your spawned Doppelgangers clones have grown in the darkness as their originals have in the light. Now, as a collective, their senses have become attuned to the distinctive ripple your Sorcery exudes on the Shadow Realm.]


    ¡°Uh¡­ What?¡± I muttered. Then stammered as the lines faded to reveal the blank page that was my Doppelganger spell. Then, as before, the diagrams, descriptions, and annotations of how to cast the spell were written on the same page. Only¡­ it was different.


    Mutated.


    [Signal Doppelgangers: Living umbral clones, spawned from the bridge between this realm and the Shadow Plane to assist their originals. By using this bridge and their link to their summoner, Signal Doppelgangers can whisper between the Material Plane and the Shadow Realm to share information, regardless of distance. So long as their original is near dim light or darkness, you or your Doppelganger can hear their calls through the shadows, and use the shadows to call back.]


    ¡°Nice.¡±

 190 - Compelled Truth

    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°Holy shit.¡± I grinned at my Doppelganger.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while.¡± My clone, Numa, chuckled in our voice. ¡°Almost forgot the sound of Jonet¡¯s voice.¡±


    ¡°Yeah right!¡± I snorted, turned, and lit a smoke. ¡°But I¡¯m glad they¡¯re all doing okay. More so. This mutation is amazing.¡±


    ¡°Eh.¡± My clone shrugged. ¡°My workload is still the same.¡±


    ¡°You were getting lazy anyway.¡± I laughed.


    ¡°At any rate, it sure is hilarious. Especially for the ones from Corvus.¡± My clone snickered. ¡°Most of them didn¡¯t even recognize our voice. They¡¯re all headed home, though.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± I grinned wide. Not only from that but from the fact that Silas and the others in Hill Base were doing better than I anticipated, though the news from him wasn¡¯t all good. Regardless, it was an entire realm away and I didn¡¯t have the time to catch up just yet. So I sent my clone back to work and cast an anti-gravity spell on myself before I stepped off the rim of the ringed dais.


    Like a diver pulling themselves along the seafloor, I grabbed hold of the rails and roots to pull myself through the unbroken walls of my floor. Where, beyond the polished stone, my Doppelganger toiled without end. The few floors beyond were virtually empty, save a few troops of the Menagerie scurrying or prowling through the brush, searching for prey that had wandered in from afar.


    The recreational floor was where all the noise was. Like the floors above, it contained oversized annexes dedicated to a particular type of leisure. The ¡®pool¡¯ for example, contained both an Olympic-sized pool and a dive tank. As well as water slides, spas, and a lazy river that meandered around the entire floor. That concept extended to the game room, where indoor courts and even a mini-golf course had been installed, and in all the other areas as well. Though, nearly everyone was huddled inside the lounge. Drinking, eating, wandering, and mostly conversing with Toril and the others.


    Seemingly anticipating my arrival, they all turned with raised brows and lurched towards me the moment I entered.


    Being the social butterfly she was, it was Scarlett who stole the show and approached me to ask the questions burning in everyone¡¯s minds. ¡°So, what happens next?¡± She excitedly asked. ¡°You said training. Training in what? And why¡¯s this place so big?¡±


    I could only help but chuckle and pat her head as I stepped around her to take a seat. Then leaned forward to birth a few lines of light from my fingers and form them into a hologram of the tower. ¡°In short, we¡¯re graduating at the end of the year,¡± I explained. ¡°Once we evolve, we can choose to leave or stay. If we stay we can power level our classes here.¡± I raised my other hand to create an annotated hologram of the southern peninsula and gave them a moment to read upon the kingdoms and the subguilds they housed. ¡°I would advise you all to stay, both next year and the year after. But the choice is ultimately yours. In either case, we will receive a wise rock pebble as a reward for evolving. At that time.¡± I paused to play the hologram as I would a video and watched their faces as the tower split apart.


    It separated first by floors, then by their pie-shaped rooms before distancing themselves from the lower and upper levels. The storage facilities and industrial kitchen were the first floors to condense into a hollow sphere, containing floors for each type of industry. A relatively thick skin of material fell atop the small body before my room, lab, and study wrapped around it like a shell. Then the training floor, the lounge, the observation deck, and the grove fell around it in the same fashion. In the end, it was capped with regolith and left with a rectangular cave opening along the equator. Giving it the strong appearance of a goat¡¯s eye when stared at directly.


    Or a dragon¡¯s eye, if turned to the side.


    ¡°This is what will become of the moon I created,¡± I said, looking around all of them as they stared at their wedge-shaped compounds taking on similar forms to my moon, albeit smaller and in shapes that ranged from Earth-like worlds to floating platforms. ¡°These will be your worlds. Your homes. Your foundations.¡± I declared. ¡°Recruiting will be your mission post-evolution. When we aren¡¯t training, we¡¯ll be free to roam the south.¡± I gestured to the map. ¡°Have your Doppelgangers bring your friends, allies, or subordinates to your moons or your towers and train them. My only rule is that we don¡¯t own slaves.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me that!¡± Scarlett playfully slapped my shoulder.


    ¡°Um. What about training?¡± The half-orc, Hogaz, stepped forward to ask.


    ¡°I will ensure each of you meets the requirements for our studies on top of bringing you to my standard in combat, manipulation, and mana molding. To that end, we¡¯ll train together every other day. On those days, physical training starts at seven in the morning and lasts for two hours.¡± I turned a wicked grin towards Toril and the others. ¡°It''s without rest. As is the two hours of combat training that follows.


    ¡°For the most part at least.¡± I snorted in response to Hogaz¡¯s despairing face. ¡°After that is two hours of lunch and rest. Classroom study begins at one and lasts until two, with labs and exercises for those lessons from two to three. After that is two hours of practicing your magic or manipulation. Followed by two hours of working down your paths. Our day ends at sundown.¡± I generously grinned. ¡°And then the festivities begin.¡±


    ¡°Work hard play hard.¡± Zarzok beamed widely. ¡°I like it.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± I grinned. ¡°In doing this, I intend to have each of you meet the prerequisites to obtain a Master Class. To facilitate that, I¡¯ve read and summarized the Paths section in the library. Since then, it¡¯s been copied into our library for your use. More so, there are facilities in and around the tower dedicated to each Class.¡±


    ¡°Like the grove up top for Druids?¡± Scarlett accurately guessed.


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°What will you teach us?¡± One of the Epethian royals, Matthew Reid asked.


    ¡°Everything I know.¡± I grinned. ¡°First comes survival lessons, then comes crafting. I¡¯ll teach you a way to prepare food in such a way that it won¡¯t spoil. I¡¯ll teach you how to make tools from sticks and stones, and up the chain until we''re making machines that create machines from metals and ceramics. You''ll learn how to brew healing potions for yourselves, along with a few other basic things. Then, we¡¯ll learn about surviving in the wild without magic before we move on to the more¡­ complicated endeavors.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    "Besides the obvious, science,¡± I said. Then played a hologram of ships and drones and spacecraft and cybernetic implants. Of the things I often saw in my past life. ¡°It is a method to inquire about the natural world,¡± I explained before they could ask. ¡°When you learn to understand the laws of nature, you can create technology- tools that will allow us to exploit those laws, up to their limits. Today, we can create ships of steel that float seamlessly over the water or cannons that can fire across fields. Tomorrow, we will be able to replace our limbs as easily as we change clothes. And-¡±


    ¡°Pardon my interruption. But allow me to make proper use of our deal.¡± Zarzok paused to stand before me, a half-apologetic half-prideful grin stamped across his face. ¡°You are now compelled to tell us the truth no matter what, yes? You cannot lie to us.¡±


    ¡°More or less.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°How are you aware of these things?¡± He asked. ¡°Science and technology? I mean, some of these things we have in Vagua, but how did you become to be so knowledgeable about these things and be so fortunate in life?¡±


    I paused before answering. Not out of hesitation, but to expand my consciousness towards those in the tower who had yet made the pledges and filled my voice with abyssal darkness. ¡°Though you have yet to make your pledge, I will still share this information with you. It will be shared with no one outside this circle, however.


    ¡°Naturally,¡± I said normally, though still with shadows to connect myself to those spread throughout the tower. Then paused again, rueful to the fact that Silas, Jonet, and the others weren¡¯t here in my face to hear the truth. Such things weren¡¯t to be said over the ''radio.'' But that was the way some things went. Even then though, the Eternal Eye recorded always, so it wasn¡¯t all bad.


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    ¡°Reincarnation is real,¡± I finally said, turning my eyes over the lot of them. ¡°Though, in most cases, it only happens once the universe comes to an end. In more cases, it happens not at all.


    ¡°I was reincarnated.¡± I continued after a pause. ¡°That said, the universe I came from has not ended. Or, at least it wasn''t ending when I died. It may or may not be base reality and you may or may not have originated from there many reincarnation cycles ago, but that is neither here nor there. My body, spirit, soul, consciousness, or whatever else is no longer a part of that realm. It was a universe without Gods, mana, and magic. A small, hostile world, filled only with humans, animals, and the machinations we created.¡±


    ¡°That sounds horrible.¡±


    ¡°It was. I hated my existence there. As did many others.¡± I created a hologram of old Earth with a long sigh. ¡°But it was also glorious. Although we had no magic, our species developed constantly, using science and technology to rise from our place of suffering in the middle of the food chain to holding dominion over the world- and others. But it was not easy. War and conflict were a constant throughout our few hundred thousand years of existence, and our mastery of it was ever-increasing. But eventually, we got there. By the time I was born, war was still constant, yet death and disease were nearly under our control. Our world was about half the size of this peninsula, but we could travel across it within a day and could communicate with people on the other side of it as easily as I speak to you now. We possessed the power to end societies in the blink of an eye- to end ourselves and all life as we knew it many times over. There were a few times throughout our history when we almost had.


    ¡°We would have if it weren¡¯t for us being... saved.¡± I continued the montage with the scenes I saw long ago. Of fleets of automated shuttles descending from the sky to take the misfortunate and the educated off-world for good. ¡°He could easily be described as a Sorcerer, as we understand things. His body was infused with technology far beyond our capabilities. Technology we were incapable of comprehending at the time, thus we first thought him to be... alien. But he was anything but.


    ¡°A certain someone once said, ¡®Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.¡¯ In that way, the Starfarer was the first being in our universe with magic. He descended upon our world and coerced humanity to comply with his plans because he knew if we were left to our own ends, we would have self-annihilated. Benevolent and magnificent though those plans were, he forced us to abide by his project to fare the stars.¡± I sighed nostalgically. ¡°He gave us his knowledge and technology. He taught us to make things that could take us off of our world and allow us to not only explore the inhospitable worlds beyond but thrive on them.¡±


    Pausing again, I expanded the hologram to create an orrery of the Earth-Moon system and waited for the habitats to begin popping up in L4 and L5 as the timetable jumped forward. With time, the image expanded to Mars. Then Venus, and then Mercury before my life changed forever and I got on that ship headed for the Saturnian System. Rather than show the planets or moons or anything of Saturnian origin though, I showed them a montage of the greatest creations within the Sol System following the start of that era.


    I showed them the fantastically violent augmentations and implants that made the Galilean Powers famous; the stations and ships that outclassed asteroids, constructed only by the finest architects and void-shipwrights in Gelidia Corp; the habitat and space port-riddled bridge that connected Pluto with its moon, Charon- aptly named the Barycenter; the arcologies and art that echoed off an abundantly green Earth and the industrialized moon; the Venusian Cloud Cities, tethered together in clustered flotillas as they drifted through the long daylight; the industrial complexes spread across most of the Mars and the orbital ring encircling it. And of course, the famous Mercurial prison. The Mohole.


    ¡°Only when our species had spread so far that the threat of extinction had been all but extinguished did this Sorcerer give us the same technology found within himself. It was glorious.¡± I said after scanning the crowd of awed eyes. Then changed it to show them armies of fully-augmented people engaging in the sanctioned low-gravity wars that made the Galilean Powers infamous- Campaign.


    I showed them footage of the Saturnian Knights-of a single Saturnian Knight-neutralizing a gang stronghold in less than a day using their renowned robotic clones dubbed ¡®Ghosts.¡¯ I showed them a glimpse of their power armor, made by the best roboticists in Sol in ways that merged with their many implants seamlessly. Then I showed them the relativistic kill missiles every nation used to deter others. I showed them the asteroid gangs. The space pirates. The world wars that came before.


    Everything.


    ¡°It was glorious. But even with all that glory, humanity refused to change. Not that we needed to, I suppose. It was glorious.¡± I repeated. ¡°But as glorious as it was, I decided to die at the age of one hundred thirty-eight. Knowing reincarnation awaited me, I died and soon found myself in limbo, facing the creator of this universe. An Eternal by the name of Telin.


    ¡°He explained to me that he is the source of mana,¡± I explained. ¡°He is also the reason why the portals appeared across the Planes, and so too is he the cause for humans obtaining affinity cores shortly thereafter. He told me that he and those like him wish to judge me in this life, for I was an anomaly who chose to die in such a grandiose time to be alive. They were unsure of what to do with me. So, he told me that I would live as the Eternal God of this universe in order to see if I¡¯m worthy of becoming an Eternal of the multi-verse once this universe comes to an end. He then blessed me as his champion, destined to ascend to godhood when I evolve. But he gave me the freedom to live as I please.


    ¡°And so, not too long after being born, I decided I had no wishes to join him. I love this life. This universe is¡­ fascinating." I smiled, shaking my head. "I want to live in this universe for as long as I can, exploring and learning about everything there is and ever was in this fantastical place. So, I learned about the world around me, made a plan, and put it in motion; adjusting it as I went along. Fifteen and a half years later, and here we are.¡±


    A period of long, piercing silence followed my words eyes fell down, heads cocked or turned, and minds worked through the assuredly unbelievable words that just left my mouth. But eventually, it was broken by the mutterings of Jaimess.


    ¡°So then...¡± he began. "You were born with the mind of an old man? Mentally, you were a hundred forty-three when we met, but your mind was in the body of a five-year-old half-drow sorcerer?¡±


    ¡°I knew it!¡± Toril cackled. ¡°Haha! You were not of these realms, I knew it!¡±


    ¡°Yes...¡± I phlegmatically nodded, despite the surprise. ¡°One of the benefits of being an Eternal is that I have perfect recall of both my past life and this one. I remember every minute detail of everything I¡¯ve ever sensed, learned, or done, including the knowledge of how to recreate the glorious technology we had access to. All of it. Naturally, you all will have access to this knowledge as well. But it''s a long road to make it a reality. Thankfully, I have time and the undead on my side.¡±


    Another period of silence ensued; this one shorter, but no less significant.


    ¡°That¡¯s a tall story.¡± Elurial''s chortle rippled through the space, only to be countered by a quick, "tsk."


    "Tsk." Zarzok shook his head. "You don¡¯t understand. He¡¯s under contract with us. The fact that he¡¯s not suffering right now means he¡¯s telling the truth. But then, I ask.¡± He turned to me. ¡°Do you wish to emulate this¡­ Sorcerer?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I quickly shook my head and wound back the hologram to old Earth. ¡°Every human that had ever lived resided on this pale blue dot until I was seventy-three years old. And, as I said, we were on a course that led to self-annihilation. He used coercion to move us off-world, preventing our extinction. There is no need for that here.


    ¡°Here.¡± I changed the map to a rendering of the disk on which we resided. ¡°On the vast Mortal Plane, that¡¯s not the case. There are hundreds of trillions of humans at least, all scattered across the Mortal Plane alongside dozens of other species. Even if an entire realm self-annihilates or is annihilated, there will be countless others who will have never known about them. My only goal is to see and learn about as many of them as I can.


    ¡°The reason why I¡¯m recreating this technology and the reason why I¡¯m training you all so hard is because this privilege and curse that I¡¯ve been given by Telin will undoubtedly make my things difficult one day- not just for me either. Everyone, perhaps. He¡¯s influenced the elves in many ways already. Corym, Archdruid Indra, and Abbot Eiriol know of my station and my ascension, as did my mother.


    "She told me of how the Youteran elves learned the secret of the portals after a thousand years and closed them. They began to think of themselves as the pinnacle of all creatures or whatever after a century of culling everything that came through the portals. That''s when Telin appeared to them, giving them tasks to prepare for my birth after. Those tasks include but aren''t limited to the elves making contact with my great-grandfather and the Iron Magus, as well as my mother seeking my father out to conceive me. The three elven instructors were given tasks to teach me things. But other than that, I know not the extent of his meddling.


    "That said, he gave his word that he would no longer intervene with the universe once I was born. However, that doesn''t mean the ripples of his tasks won''t wade into the far future, and the same isn¡¯t the case for the Gods within this universe already. I will receive the last of my blessings in just six months when we evolve. Sometime after that.¡± I eyed as many faces as I could. ¡°I fully expect the paradigm to shift. It may take years, centuries even. But it will happen. And no matter how powerful I will become, I can¡¯t protect everyone I care about at once. The only solution then, is for those I care about to be strong enough to protect themselves.


    ¡°From anyone,¡± I said through clenched teeth. ¡°Even the Gods.¡±


    Feeling something that wasn''t pride, Zarzok grinned in excitement. ¡°That¡¯s only fair. Considering we work for one.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. So believe me when I say you will be the Major Deities or Devils of my pantheon- but only if you wish.¡± I added, eyeing Roheisa¡¯s apparent reluctance at the mention of deities. ¡°My future party will be the only ones equal to your station. Likewise, the parties you form will first become your subordinate officers, then your Minor Deities. So choose them well, for they will be leading Legions of Demigods.


    ¡°Noctis Legionaries.¡±

 191 - Divine Forge

    Elsgril Silverforge.


    ***


    ¡°Elsgril. Why?¡±


    With a sigh as deep as the Fire Mountain''s gut, as deep as the sadness in this dear woman''s voice, I turned first to Forgruna, handsome and stubby and bursting with passion. Then Darekhil, burly and reserved when not drunk or in battle. My eyes. I was hoping my eyes would do all the talking. But the idiots saw nothing.


    ¡°For this!?¡± Forgruna spat as she waved her arms throughout this magnificent forge.


    It was as fine as any drow architecture I ever heard of or seen down below. All that was missing were the art pieces lined in Faerie Flames. But the forge- nay, the entire tower, was not just constructed with magic. It was supported by it. The unnaturally smooth walls and intricate piping that snaked through solid rock. It was all the same as that his cousins used far below.


    A strange thing, that was. Considering he¡¯s never been to a drow city. In this life or the last.


    ¡°Because he¡¯s lived twice?¡± She spat again.


    ¡°Ugh!¡± I groaned. ¡°He¡¯s honest.¡±


    ¡°Honest?¡± She waved her palm aside. ¡°He¡¯s a Devil! Said so himself!¡±


    ¡°My point exactly!¡± I looked up to the orb of glowing dirt that illuminated the space and watched over the forge. And us. Then laughed. ¡°Did everything he said he would, he did. And I said before, better him than anyone else.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡± Darekhil stepped in, stroking his beard. His was a lot longer than Forgruna¡¯s, braided and tied into two knots that he twisted and untwirled whenever in deep thought. Like now.


    I took a long sigh and turned to them both. ¡°He has this.¡± I tapped my finger against my head. ¡°And this.¡± I tapped at my heart. ¡°And this.¡± I slapped my gut. Then grabbed my sack and gave it a good tug. ¡°And he¡¯s got a big fuckin¡¯ pair of these, he does!


    ¡°And.¡± I pointed at them both. ¡°He¡¯s honest. He¡¯s gonna change the realms just by going to ''em. And I¡¯ll be there. Making whatever the fuck I want in the name of the All-Smithy!¡±


    ¡°And for that, I¡¯m eternally grateful.¡± The Devil himself drifted in saying. ¡°You heard my confession of the technology I¡¯m privy to. Naturally, you will be one of the many to help me bring such things into existence. As I said, it¡¯s a long road. But we have magic and, most importantly, time on our side.¡±


    Grinning wickedly, he pierced the tip of his index finger with a piece of wire and grabbed one of the spherical steel ingots from the shelf. Then welded a steel rod to it before thrusting it into the forge. From there, he only moved to grab a single hammer and held his open palm out to his side. From his fingertips came lines of pale light that stretched out and bent into angles and shapes that were at first odd, then grew into a complex schematic of a weapon soon to be created.


    No. Not a schematic. A full rendering of the completed item, tangible and in the real. Just made of¡­ Moonlight.


    When the metal was heated, he astonished us all by reaching his bare hand into the forge to grasp the glowing chunk of metal and cradle it for a long moment. We watched a distant look fill his eyes as he tuned his senses to the metal. Then grasped the rod in his hand to station the material against his anvil while his hammer rose in the other. And it fell with a blow that could have reached the All-Smithy himself. Such power was delivered into his blows that it shook the senses away from noticing the obvious. That his strikes were made stronger by the force of gravity. Enabling him to flatten the ingot and split it two-thirds down the length in mere moments.


    He worked the larger piece first. Folding and forming it into a medium-sized blade with a gentle curve and an absurdly long and thick tang. Only, he compressed and poked a hole in it as if it were an axe head. Then narrowed the far side down into a sharp point like the ass-end of a war hammer. After he bathed it, he tested its hardness and then set it aside to bake while he worked on the smaller piece, forming it into a palm-sized blade in only a few moments before it too was bathed and baked in one of those time-altering domains of his.


    Then, I couldn¡¯t help myself. I approached the pieces to get a feel for the metal myself. So neatly were the grains aligned. With no imperfections that even I could find. It was like the finest instances of Drowcraft I had ever seen. Minus the prettiness and enchantments of course. But it wasn¡¯t yet complete.


    He waited patiently for me to set the pieces back down. Then, his domain pushed over my body with a casual wave of his arm before he resumed his work. In the pursuit of giving him space, I took a few steps back and then slowed once Amun¡¯s actions began to speed up. It was not unlike he was hit with a sudden flash of inspiration, at first. Then his actions grew to a controlled frenzy and then on to an incomprehensible blur until he suddenly halted with the collapse of his domain.


    The stillness was like stone scarabs crawling along my skin. Mine and those beside me too. The three of us dwarves, stared, shaken for whatever reason as we admired the beautiful mix between a spear and a scythe. Its handle was of two materials. The central one was black and dark as Amun''s magic was seen to be while the other was a coiled piece of material wrapped around it. Off-white and... pure. It was no longer than a sword, but with a curved blade reaching out from the end, inlaid with leafed branches of silver and gold.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    A curious weapon for a curious individual, I thought. Until his voice assumed the form of a hundred whispers and he called. ¡°Zaraxus,¡± through the darkness.


    As if he¡¯d already been there, the draugr appeared from a deep shadow set in the far corner and waltzed over to Amun in only a few steps. He stood over twice my height. With grayed skin pulled taught against his yellowed bones, enunciating the sinew and stringy muscles in his figure as he clasped his fists below his belly and lowered his head. Though his eyes, his hateful hollowed eyes, still burned with a blue and green brilliance that was captivating to my eyes. Terrifyingly so.


    For all he was, a crude and tattered set of leathers covered his body. Impaled by a bronze short sword that stuck through his ribs to the hilt.


    Amun took it, then placed the war scythe into the Draugr¡¯s hands. ¡°Try to break it.¡±


    ¡°Are you crazy!?!¡± Forgruna spat before Darekhil could. Much like I did a few months ago.


    ¡°It¡¯s quality control.¡± Amun calmly said in the same way he had back then. ¡°If it breaks, I will assess it and figure out why.¡±


    ¡°And the next one will be that much better.¡± I grinned.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Amun nodded. ¡°We test everything we create before its given to another. Thoroughly.¡± He bit at them. ¡°And preferably by the one it''s intended for.¡± He nodded towards the Draugr and nodded in return before backing away.


    Despite my experience and agreement with the practice. The Dwarf in me couldn¡¯t help but feel it a crime, watching the draugr ¡®test¡¯ the weapon. He put the blade in a bloody vice and torqued it with gradually increasing force until the handle started to bend. Then halted at Amun¡¯s word and held it for upwards of a minute before it was released. But the blade held true. The pick was slammed against a solid block of stone nearly a dozen times and suffered minor denting, as one would expect. And then the blade jutting out from the pommel was hacked into bone without relent. Rolling only a small piece of the blade.


    ¡°Alright.¡± After sharpening out the roll, Amun grinned wide in satisfaction and gave his undead a final nod of approval, then he turned to first the Draugr, paused, then pivoted to face us. ¡°Brace yourselves.¡±


    I felt it many times before. But never this much or from this close. The pervasive cold from earlier that I recognized as darkness was like the desert sun against the tempest slapping and stinging against the core of my being. Flooding my mind with visages of a dark abyss and whispers of foul screams.


    It passed after an indiscriminate length of time, leaving haunting afterimages of figures clad in shadows long after the wake of death faded. But not entirely. A strong portion of it remained in the weapon, now boasting cracks along the brighter parts of the handle. Cracks that glowed with the same brilliance as the Draugr''s eyes.


    ¡°Zaraxus, this is your war scythe." Amun declared as he handed over the weapon. "Go kill something. Then name it.¡±


    ¡°So you can innately make magic weapons!¡± Forgruna stepped forward almost instinctively, stating it as more as a confirmation than an observation.


    ¡°I honestly have no idea what I just did.¡± Amun turned to her with a grin. ¡°That said, I know I can make sentient weapons.¡±


    ¡°Wow, you don¡¯t know shite about magic, do ya?¡± Forgruna laughed wryly. ¡°Now that¡¯s ironic.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± Amun shrugged as if he had no cares in the world. Then turned back to her with a raised brow and squinted eyes. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying I can make magical weapons?¡±


    ¡°Felt magical to me.¡± She shrugged back. And Amun could only laugh.


    He then paused as his clone appeared in the same way as Zaraxus did to drop off a pair of amulets, and upon doing so, his clone gave us a wave, and then disappeared into the darkness without a word.


    ¡°So what is this moon business anyway?¡± Forgruna spat, bringing my eyes to the off-white, crescent-shaped amulet in Amun''s right hand. And then to a circle made from the same off-white material as before, lined with gold and centered with a perfectly spherical onyx gem. ¡°You naming shite after yourself or what?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Amun snorted. ¡°It''s a colloquial name for the floating rock I put above the Bodhi Tree. The likeness to my name is only a coincidence, but its given name is Mani. Elsgril will have one he¡¯ll name one day. A world, woven from the earth.¡±


    He turned his grin to me for a split second, only for his eyes to drop to the items in his hand. ¡°I will become a God regardless. However, much of my power will still come from faith. Moonlight and Twilight, and hopefully Engineering, are the domains I''m trying for. In addition to whatever Telin gives me.¡± He paused, and the gentle off-white light he called Moonlight cascaded down his arm and flowed into the crescent talisman. Then, the dual presence of shadow and light referred to as Twilight poured around the onyx-gemmed white ring in his other hand. Creating two magical pendants of a dissimilar radiance. ¡°Zakira and Opal will be my first Clerics.¡± He declared, holding out the pendants- nay, the holy symbols.


    ¡°Can you make Warlocks too?¡± Darekhil waddled forth, for the three of us, it seemed.


    ¡°I¡¯m unsure for certain.¡± Amun looked over and shrugged. ¡°But it¡¯s a strong possibility. If I can, that would mean everyone in the Legions is a warlock, which only makes it easier to share my power. Regardless, it¡¯s also possible that following the Moon or Twilight will unlock new Master or even Prestige Classes altogether.¡± He then turned to him with a knowing smile. ¡°Are you interested?¡±


    ¡°In raging. And nothing else.¡± Darekhil grunted out a laugh. A good sign.


    ¡°Oh?¡± Amun faced him, his eyes wide with interest. ¡°You¡¯ll be training with Lana, then.¡±


    ¡°Ah, the scarred woman.¡± He amiably nodded.


    ¡°She was the second person I killed in this life. The first was Zaraxus.¡± He jerked his thumb towards the shadow the Draugr disappeared from. ¡°I took his soul and turned it into a way to rage, so he couldn''t become a shadow. But I walk the path of the Monk now. Raging was never my style anyway.¡±


    ¡°Monk paths are called Ways if I¡¯m not mistaken,¡± I said. ¡°Which one?¡±


    ¡°Truthfully, I haven¡¯t put much thought into it.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I figure if I get a Master Class it¡¯ll be because of my Sorcery and I won¡¯t get a choice.¡±


    ¡°Well, you do fight like you''re undead.¡± I snorted. ¡°So I imagine something revolving that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Amun nodded slowly, and then our eyes met. ¡°You¡¯re probably right.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded slowly. But Amun was lost in thought for a few awkward moments. Eventually, though, he came back to us with one of those mischievous smirks spread across his face. ¡°Anyway,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s a hidden level below the freezer. Inside is a shaft leading to the Darkworld.¡±


    ¡°Wha-¡±


    ¡°My Doppelganger is down there with most of my undead.¡± Amun continued without pause. ¡°The undead are scouting for mithral and adamantine while my clone is steadily producing new technology and infrastructure. We''re already to a point where we can mass-produce whatever basic things we want, and we even have an oil industry running. So, once we find some Darkworld metals-once we graduate- that''s when the real fun begins.¡±


    He held out his hand, palm down, to allow the gentle light to fall from his fingers once again. Illuminating the grin spread across his devilish face. ¡°Let me show you what I mean.¡±

 192 - Dark Partners

    Ritrix Mildbluff.


    ***


    ¡°Ritrix! Wake up!¡±


    A touch of cold against my skin jerked me awake. I turned, half-ready to give a hard smack in self-defense before I yelped in surprise. ¡°Oh!¡± I chortled after a deep breath. ¡°That¡¯s gonna take some getting used to.¡±


    My mirror image smiled warmly in response before waving her hand in a gesture for me to follow her out of this vast house and through this vast cave.


    My bedroom alone was larger than my folks¡¯ house back in the village. My practice room was even larger and was now adorned with many instruments, some being strange things I''d never before seen and others being recognizable at a glance. My kitchen was just as spacious too, and connected to the dining room via a bar that was the perfect height for a gnome or halfling. Tended to at all hours of the night or day by the other me. So too was the large cellar. And so too was the study and the other room that remained empty. And probably would for many days to come.


    At a lovely height of a meter and change, the place just appeared all the more vast from my perspective.


    Plus, it was empty.


    ¡°It seems¡­ too much. You know?¡±


    ¡°Oh, it is!¡± She instantly beamed. And it was then that I decided to think of a name for her. But she intruded upon my thoughts by saying something outrageous. ¡°One day, it¡¯ll be an entire city!


    ¡°A¡­ city?¡± I guffawed. Though that I already knew. Still, it was impossible to believe.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± She- Trixie, waved me to her side and guided my eyes upward. To the Moon high above and so far away. It was no bigger than a fist-my fist- but still pale and radiant and beautiful as it was when I first looked upon it.


    ¡°Remember what we saw?¡± She then asked, and I gasped in surprise at the notion of us sharing a sensation so deep. ¡°We¡¯ll be seeing that with our eyes one day, Ritrix. But in reverse. Up there, on a world of our creation, we won¡¯t look down on the Material Plane. We''ll look up and out in wonder of the endless lands around us.¡±


    ¡°It was beautiful.¡± I gasped as I remembered how truly awed I was. But then¡­ a thought came. The same thought that stopped me before. ¡°But.¡± I stammered. Nervous to hear the answer. ¡°What if they don¡¯t want to?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll still be able to visit them.¡± She gave my hand a reassuring tug. But it was as cold as elemental ice. Colder even. But still, she gripped tighter. As if she knew what exactly I was thinking.


    Because she did.


    ¡°They may hate us, Ritrix. Yes.¡± Trixie nodded with no reservations. Driving a stake through my very heart. ¡°They are free to hate us if we choose to join him." She clenched my hand tighter. "All we can do is show them our true selves and hope that they accept us as we are.


    ¡°But.¡± Her words lifted my chin to her face, pointing away to the object that dominated the sky at all times of the day and night. ¡°They can see it too, you know.¡± She then turned to me, smiling. ¡°And, it moves!¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It makes a circle around the Bodhi Tree¡¯s territory. Both peninsulas. Every month.¡± She nodded. ¡°It¡¯s so high up that everyone in the central territories in Nonus can see it. They see it too. Even in Maru.¡± She smiled.


    ¡°They see it.¡± I found myself smiling back. And when I looked down, the ground was beneath me. Not the grassy lawn of my ¡®room.¡¯ But the strange tiles of the ring of stone at the base of the tower. Surrounded by many others. Some stared at me incredulously. Others focused ahead to Amun, standing before us all with a generous smile on his face.


    ¡°Good morning, and welcome to PT!¡± He beamed, paused to flick his cigar aside, and waited for it to fall into his shadow, then began pacing. ¡°Before we begin, there are a few ground rules I need to establish. First, is that in addition to your Doppelgangers, you and every other Legionary will work alongside an undying shadow.¡±


    ''Oh¡­'' I gulped.


    ¡°In the future, it will be someone you¡¯ve killed.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± I gasped.


    ¡°Until then, you will train with one of the 65 shadows I have on hand.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± I coughed. ¡°Sixty-five. Holy shit! That¡¯s a lot of people.¡±


    It was unsettling, thinking of working alongside talking skeletons and zombies and whatever those immortal beings of darkness were. But I also knew that they wouldn¡¯t attack me. Not unless Amun saw me as an enemy. But then again. If that were the case, I''d be dead before I even knew I was his enemy. I knew it wouldn''t happen. Still, though, the thought remained rooted in the back of my mind. As did the experience.


    The one I was paired with was a young boy. Human. In his young twenties maybe. Most of them were, and dressed like either Rogues, Barbarians or Knights turned sour. Mine was dressed like a Barbarian. Young, but big and burly all the same. With a horned bear skull fashioned on his right shoulder and a deep scar running across his chest. Both sent a soft blue-green glow over me as he stood before me, heels together and fists clasped before his belly as he nodded or bowed or maybe prayed.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°They are incapable of speech for now.¡± Amun continued. ¡°If you wish to communicate with them, you can use your Doppelganger to translate until you learn my family¡¯s sign language, Nocts Signs.¡± On cue, my clone and shadow and everyone else''s performed an intricate dance with their fingers that was slightly varied around the tail end. An introduction, I assumed.


    ¡°For now, however.¡± Amun gestured behind him to a model of what appeared to be an obstacle course. ¡°It¡¯s time for physical training. The goal is to get as far down the course without using magic. Only might and mana molding is allowed. And don¡¯t try to cheat. I can see mana, you know.¡±


    ¡°You can what!?¡±


    My gasp of disbelief was but one of many. It was a long-told rumor that elves- high or royal elves, could see mana. But to have it so casually confirmed was unthinkable. But like many things, I would come to learn, everything regarding the one called Amun was unthinkable, and things happened quickly in his presence.


    He led us inside and the small sticks and rocks that composed the model shifted in response. With each step, they elongated and stretched into branches and stones and then expanded into logs and boulders that towered over the tallest among us. It was so absurdly large or we were so absurdly small that it was almost incomprehensible to many of our minds. I couldn¡¯t even see the end. Only buildings and obstacles touching the very sky, it seemed. But again, Amun startled us all by taking off at a sprint. An unpowered one.


    It was amazing to see him doing something unremarkable for once. All of us were awed. And so, we held fast long after he had gone, at least until our umbral counterparts began shoving us along.


    Still awed, perhaps, I sprinted without bolstering my muscles. And though the course before me demanded my undivided attention, I kept a close eye on Amun. Now behind many others who were, like me, throwing their gazes over to him whenever they could afford.


    We high-stepped through a field of wheel-shaped depressions. Climbed a rope that was meters high. Scaled a low wall. Crawled beneath barbed wires. Shimmied along a ledge, pulled ourselves across a length of rope, and sprinted for at least a kilometer in between each obstacle. And though he didn¡¯t struggle at any of them, nor did Amun excel either. He went at an average, unimpressive pace until his breath grew ragged. His body grew lethargic soon after. And just before he was on the brink of collapse, he bolstered his body with mana and took off in a blur.


    In an instant, our eyes were forced to focus on ourselves; or at the very least, on those around us. Many of the ones already bolstered suddenly were not as they increased their paces to keep up with the dust trail scattering ahead. Others, like me, soon grew curious as to how far we could get before we needed to use the technique and soon were seen sprinting as hard as we could muster.


    Though the course was similar to many military bases I¡¯ve seen throughout, only scaled to the size of giants, I lost myself in the newfound challenge. I pushed myself harder than any time I had before. But even in the two hours, we were allotted, I didn¡¯t even make it halfway to the quarter mark. And ruefully, none of us were healed or recovered by that glorious light once we were done. Not even Amun. Instead, he told us to keep our mana veils on at all times and gave us a taste of the same magic he used against Winston to show us what would happen if we tried to cheat.


    It was like my weight doubled. Then quadrupled and doubled again. My skin began to sag to the ground and my hair began to pull from its pores and slam into the ground like trees falling from a mountain. I was almost squished flat in seconds. Then, it faded.


    ¡°The force of gravity will increase ever so slightly with each passing week,¡± Amun told us with a devilishly charming grin. ¡°By the end, you will more or less have to bolster yourselves with mana the entire time. That goes for both PT and combat training, mind you. For that.¡± He waved to his side, releasing a wave of darkness that splashed against the ground like water. Forming a puddle that his Doppelganger, Lana, and Zaraxus clambered out with glee.


    All of them were armed. The clone with a pair of daggers and the draugr with a weird spear. Lana had a strange weapon too, a claymore made of pure darkness. And Amun, outnumbered as he was, was unarmed. But rushed them all the same.


    It was the ugliest and most gruesome thing I¡¯ve seen thus far. But it was entrancing. I found myself unable to look away from the gracefully deadly score of wits and play. They spun and sliced. Jumped and lunged at each other without pause, nicking skin and breaking flesh faster than the eye could track. Endlessly. Ceaselessly until they were knocked away or stabbed into.


    Amun took such a blow. A dagger between the ribs impaled him through the lung. But he withdrew it without delay and lunged into a spinning dance of slashes and thrusts with his new weapon. In the end, Lana and the clone were defeated, but Zaraxus delivered a debilitating kick and swept his scythe-spear through Amun¡¯s belly.


    Almost as penance, Zaraxus then impaled himself with his own weapon, then clasped his fist before him, and lowered his head. His Doppelganger reformed and did the same, followed by Lana, all saluting or¡­ praying while darkness enveloped Amun. Healed him. But just enough for him to stand and let out a death-defying gasp as he turned to us.


    ¡°This is for my Class. You will be fully healed after each round.¡± He staggered. ¡°Then..." He groaned. "You fight again. Like this. Each. And every time. Now.¡± He wheezed heavily as he turned to face his opponents and raised his fists once more. ¡°Prepare¡­ to scatter.¡±


    Before I could even look around, my vision was consumed with gentle light and when my eyes opened, I found myself in the forest. Alone and once again basking in the light of dawn before a dull impact to the mid-back brought me to my senses.


    I reeled around at once, and just in time to see the same umbral man from before, coming in with an overhead swing.


    I scrambled back at once, just hardly dodging out of the way but my clone jumped in behind him. Vaulting over his back to dropkick me in the nose and tumble me back onto my ass. Then they pounced on me like wild animals. Punching and kicking and even stabbing into me without remorse until a heel to my temple knocked me out cold.


    I awoke in the same gentle light as before some time later. Fully healed and a bit out of my mind before I was pulled violently to my feet by my clone to continue fighting.


    It was the hardest thing I ever did in my life. But oh, was it exhilarating! And tiring. Despite being healed, I could hardly move by the time it was over. Thankfully, though, my partners were more than happy to carry me to my room. They even cooked me a meal as I napped and woke me up in time to eat, freshen up, and talk with the others before our lessons.


    Such an amazing day it was. The hardest day I¡¯ve had thus far. One that was far from over. Though my days would undoubtedly get harder going forward, I couldn¡¯t help but feel grateful that they wouldn''t be spent alone. If I joined, I would never be alone again, I realized.


    Not in life or death.

 193 - Brewing 101

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°God damn¡­ I didn¡¯t miss this feeling at all.¡±


    I dropped my Wraith Form with a groan and looked out upon the spacious cavern far below the tower. While everyone was healed up and resting, I was on the brink of dying. Yet, I traveled to the hidden level to check up on Lana and Zaraxus, hunting for experience rather than prospecting for dark metals.


    Zaraxus was the strongest undead I had and my Doppelganger was just as strong as I was, which wasn¡¯t very much without magic or sorcery. Lana, however, was even weaker than she was in life. A one hundred percent decrease if measured mathematically. As the one with the most growth potential, the journey was for her more than anyone else. In the meanwhile and for the fifty years that have passed since the tower began its construction, most of the Bobs have remained here, toiling above or carving out the bedrock below to create an industrial facility that could rival anything in the explored realms.


    Though Robert was the foreman, the overseer was none other than the gentleskull himself, Simion Lumbarde, working with the full zeal of a cultist now that he knew of what awaited him in the near future. With Darekhil, Forgruna, and their companion, Thordrohilda sworn in and caught up, I was sure they would soon be filled with just as much fervor. Though the road map for the undead industry was much different than the one they were to traverse.


    The realm, Maru at least, had been in what could be compared to the Renaissance when I left. If what I heard and read about the explored realms of Nonus was true, they pushed past the industrial age decades before my birth; if not altered to befit our magical reality. They had the equivalent of Model T¡¯s, for example. Yet they were reported to have ¡®vast cables of light¡¯ to transport citizens and resources across vast distances.


    While those in Hill Base were worming their way through the Industrial Revolution, my undead were here, using their endless, dilated time to steam past the post-industrial Revolution. And it was all done here, a few kilometers below the tower.


    We started with gravity-spun flywheels. Massive cylinders of carbon fiber and copper coils were spun to an absurd degree to power our first factories. Paving the way for more power generation, more factories, and more constructs that soon swelled beneath the lake above and sank ever deeper towards the Darkworld below, where hydroelectric and geothermal energies were available in excess.


    With mass production and an abundance of power came an easier means for the tower¡¯s construction. Though it still needed magic and it still took decades for roughly 200 undead to complete. Now that we were here, however, the road to the future would only get longer, yet the ride would get faster.


    The precursors to such futuristic technologies I dreamt of had to be perfected and mass-produced before such a thing came to be. All of them. Cars and boats had to be altered to fit this world before tanks and battleships could be made to my liking. The same went for gliders and hot air balloons evolving into planes and model rockets and then on into fighter jets and ballistic missiles. Radios. Computers. Lasers. Even nuclear fusion needed to be perfected before cybernetic or nano-implants became a reality for my people. For my family. For those like Caia and her child and the many young and old in Hill Base who just wanted to live in peace. Only then would I be comfortable leaving them on their own while I explored the realms.


    Only then would I not have to worry about them.


    That required the road to be traversed by the time we returned to Maru. Preferably sooner, if I were to be honest. In turn, that required this train to move a lot faster than intended. I needed more undead.


    Even with my Doppelganger picking up much of the slack. I needed more.


    Since I left campus, most of his time had been spent here or in my lab upstairs, toiling away with Carbury¡¯s horn. Besides the holy symbols for Zakira and Opal, I used a piece of it in Zaraxus¡¯ war scythe at the behest of Cononthoth and tainted it with death magic. Making it a magical weapon, according to Forgruna, though I was under the impression it was already magical by the account of the horn. Regardless, the healing marrow was withdrawn and put into storage while the rest of it was taken by my Doppelganger to be made into a few things. A smoking pipe, a pen, and a flute. Leaving a bit of spare material that was crafted into a pair of rings on a whim. The scraps, on the other hand, were stored to either be ground up and snorted later or used as potion ingredients with the rest of Carbury¡¯s parts.


    As for my new toys, only the pipe and pen were for me. The flute was for my future bard and the rings were for whoever. Though I had no idea what any of them even did. If anything at all.


    I could ask Zook, I supposed, but figuring out for myself was far more preferable. For the flute at least. So I assumed my Wraith Form and ascended through the floors until I came upon the lounge, where I saw just the person I was aiming to see.


    ¡°I understand now!¡± Ritrix bounced up to me the moment she noticed my presence.


    ¡°You... understand?¡± I tilted my head.


    ¡°Why everyone wants to follow you.¡± She beamed. ¡°I think.¡± She then turned away, frowning and tapping her chin before turning back to me, smiling. ¡°At least why I want to. I¡¯ll do it.¡± She wagged her small finger at me. Then her voice boomed with power. ¡°But only under the condition that I¡¯ll never have to be alone. I¡¯ll join the Legio Noctis.¡±


    ¡°We are all your family, Ritrix.¡± My voice boomed through my smile. ¡°Neither space nor time, not even death can separate us.¡±


    Though resolute, she still seemed apprehensive as the darkness reacted to our new pact. Her eyes, vibrant and green, darted this way and that while she let out a few nervous chuckles.


    ¡°Your timing is impeccable, by the way,¡± I said, handing her the flute. ¡°I recently made this. Would you like to test it?¡±


    ¡°Sure!¡±


    The instrument was out of my hands before the words even left her mouth. While impressed, I was more so anxious and stepped back to sit on one of the contouring sofas stretching about the place.


    The first whistle seemed to set off a grenade of strings, splaying them out to latch onto the minds of those around her with the first note. While they didn¡¯t touch me, I could indeed see them. There were but a few. Silky threads, thrumming in the simple tune of Ritrix¡¯s performance. Slow and elegant it was, it enthralled those around us to turn their gazes to her. Their mouths hung low and their eyes remained wide while Ritrix, lost in her own melody, spun about on the central dais in a slow dance until the notes drifted to still silence.


    Being no longer stimulated, the strands soon withered away soon after, releasing the few humans and the half-orc from their charmed stupor.


    ¡°That was amazing.¡± I gasped. And though she bowed, Ritrix gave me an apologetic look.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice but¡­ not my style.¡± She held out the instrument with both hands.


    ¡°Because you use your voice.¡± I nodded affirmatively while taking the flute.


    ¡°¡­Yeah.¡± She nodded, looking at me curiously while her olive skin stretched into a belated smile.


    ¡°Comedy, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± She smiled wider. ¡°Are you a fan?¡±


    ¡°A bit.¡± I nodded. ¡°But¡­ well.¡± I sighed. ¡°You¡¯ll find out tonight.¡±


    ¡°Oh? O- oh, Amun!¡± She shied away, giggling into her hands.


    "Yeah, phrasing." I turned to those around us with a sigh. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s time for our lessons.¡±


    While Ritrix shied away at the back of the group, we were joined by many others as we made our way past the first floor. Many of them mentioned how impressed they were by the library and more so by the books they found in their rooms. Though it was a bit creepy, they were copied in such an easy-to-read manner that they couldn¡¯t help but be astonished.


    Rather than talk their ears off just yet, I only thanked them for their words and guided them into the labs on the second floor. Particularly, inside an alchemical lab filled with mortar and pestles, beakers, and hot plates.


    ¡°Welcome to Brewing 101!¡± I grinned after taking the center. Then gestured to the arrangements prepared at each station. ¡°You¡¯ll find before you, fermented Amanita mushrooms and the dried heart of a magical beast. In separate bowls, you¡¯re to grind both into a paste or powder before mixing it with three parts distilled water, and one part alcohol. Bring the mixture to a boil and simmer it for twelve hours. Then strain it and let it come to room temperature before infusing it with your blood.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Therein lies the recipe for a Greater Healing Potion.¡± I smiled. ¡°Now listen to me talk while you work.¡±


    They seemed taken aback by the lecture ending in such an abrupt manner. At least until their Doppelgangers rose from the floor to assist them in the parts they missed.


    After I gave them an oversimplified lecture on the four fundamental forces and how they related to my magic, I went into a semi-detailed and holographically assisted lecture on atomic and molecular science before concluding with a summarization of germs and a promise to break out the microscopes in our next class. For now, however, I left them with the thought of uncountable creatures too small to see, living among us, and let them know that, as the Bodhi Tree has done for us, textbooks were deposited in their studies for them to read later. Allowing me to move on to the most important lesson of the day.


    Legion-building.


    ¡°Now, before I begin. I need everyone who hasn¡¯t sworn in, to either do so now or leave the classroom at this time. Legion-talk is for Legionary ears only.¡±


    To my surprise. Bazzric stood up and spat before anyone could speak. ¡°Not here!¡± He turned and jerked his head in the same motion.


    Alright.¡± I shrugged. Then followed the storming dwarf outside.


    A few others followed as well. Hogaz and Elurial, standing off to the side as they wanted to speak to me next. Ash, seemingly indignant about having to leave, but standing off to the side like the aforementioned pair. And Urshure and Phelia, seemingly indifferent about it all.


    ¡°The God of War admires your talent for destruction.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I turned to the rugged dwarf with raised brows.


    ¡°Aye.¡± He growled. ¡°Keeps giving me the same dream. About you, creatin'' shite that I find hard to believe.¡±


    ¡°He wants you to follow me?¡± I guessed.


    ¡°Seems that way.¡± Bazzric shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t care one way or another. So long as I get to destroy, I''m good.¡±


    ¡°There will always be things that need destroying.¡± I boomed, grinning at him. ¡°And the God of War is one of the few that I seek to get acquainted with. As are the other Marulean Gods. Dwarven included.


    <<As is the case with Tiamat.>>


    The call of her name in his native tongue was a lure that Urshure couldn¡¯t have resisted, no matter how hard he tried.


    I felt her watching him as he came over, Cononthoth. Ironically or not, it was her who he asked about the moment he stepped before me.


    ¡°Tell him this.¡± She growled before I could respond, giving me no choice but to prepare to play the telephone game. <<You have chosen wrong, Drifter. But right all the same. The Queen will be on the winning side. That side is that of the Tiny Devil. If survival beyond the Final Clash is what you seek. Standing beneath my wing, under him, is the way. Tiamat will grace you still.


    <<But.>> She, and thus I sneered. <<You know this already. What you want is a new Clan. For that, you have the Nox.>>


    <<She will own you.>> Urshure growled. At me.


    <<She cannot, for we made a Deal.>> I grinned. <<Now, what will you do?>>


    Bazzric, having long grown tired of the Draconic conversation, muttered some obscenities under his breath and walked off while Urshure muttered his agreement.


    ¡°Good.¡± I shook his claw with a foul grin. ¡°There¡¯s much about the past that I¡¯d like to ask of her.¡±


    ¡°Hey, listen! I already made my choice, but I just wanna know.¡± The half-high orc woman paused to stomp to my front, unconsciously forcing me back a step upon realizing just how¡­ overbearing, she was up close. ¡°Why are you doing this?¡±


    ¡°Because my home is the inverse of a birdcage.¡± I bluntly said. ¡°Maru has legions of powerful creatures trapped beyond a single barrier. It gets breached, chaos will ensue.¡±


    ¡°So?¡± She shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re strong enough to do it alone.¡±


    ¡°I highly doubt that.¡± I snorted. ¡°I mean, yeah, I probably could kill them all and deal with the portals. But after that?¡± I turned to her and Hogaz both. ¡°I can¡¯t ensure the cities, nations, and empires that take their place won''t be worse. But what I can do, is give the right people the right tools to excel at these things in my stead.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Hogaz muttered after a short moment. ¡°Others have told me that you don¡¯t care to distinguish between good and evil? Would you then, have me do things some would consider evil, despite me wanting to do good?¡±


    ¡°Oh no.¡± I quickly shook my head. ¡°The only thing I ¡®make¡¯ my subordinates do is learn, train, and teach. Everyone has a choice regarding everything else. More or less, Moonlight represents the good side of the Legion. If you want to help people and bring change to where it''s needed most, go to the church to be blessed by the Moon. If you wish to fight and kill those who need killing without caring for morals, go to the temple and be graced by Twilight. I¡¯ll be your moral compass if you need me to.¡±


    ¡°Selflessness and selfishness then, is it?¡±


    ¡°That''s one way to put it.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Hogaz grunted. ¡°Here¡¯s the thing. I am not that powerful.¡± He gestured to Elurial. ¡°But I still wish to do something with this life. I wish to do good. It''s why I came here. To gain insight into¡­ otherworldly powers that wouldn''t corrupt me. And¡­ well, you¡¯re a devil. You¡¯re... otherworldly. Could you¡­ help me with such a thing? Without¡­ without corrupting me?¡±


    ¡°To be candid, I¡¯m unsure if I can make you a Warlock. That said, if I can, the chances of everyone being a warlock already would be pretty high. In any case, whether it be through enchantments, blessings, curses, or eventually runes, I¡¯ll do everything in my power to help you. I can''t make any promises about corruption, though. Such things are... fickle.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care about being a Warlock or a good person.¡± Elurial spat. ¡°I¡¯m a Barbarian. I just want to be strong and live free.¡±


    ¡°Then there¡¯s no better place for you.¡± I smiled.


    After they swore in and walked off, the last two shambled toward me. Ash and Phelia. Two dissimilar beings of fire. Though they could not have been more different, their words were more or less the same.


    ¡°I have nowhere else to go.¡± They both said. Though for Ash, that had been a constant for most of his life. He only wanted a home. Friends. Belonging. As a kindred soul, as the only half-drow half-devil in existence, I could only sympathize. But Phelia, she came here with Zarzok. So Zarzok was all she had. But now, he was with me. And though she wanted to come along with him, she had no wish to fight.


    ¡°Fighting is not the only way to serve,¡± I told her with a gentle smile. ¡°We are a guild of many Legions, so each Legion will have a different specialty. Some will be builders, some will be healers, some will be fighters. All will be explorers, but you are free to be what you want to be beyond that.¡± I nodded to her knowingly, and after accepting her pledge, followed her inside to the still-waiting candidates.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I faced them with a sigh. ¡°As I explained earlier, no matter your jobs or specialties or Classes or even rank, each Legionary will be paired with their Doppelganger and one undead. While they can and will fight, their primary roles are for logistics and labor respectively. They will also be involved in promotions, however. We are a meritocracy. So, to be eligible for a promotion, you must be recommended by the Doppelganger or shadow undead of someone outside of your immediate chain of command. For you all, this does not apply. You are founders, thus you have the highest station one could hope to have. Your junior subordinates, however, will be recommended by your peers among you. Don¡¯t worry about rivalries or bickering getting in the way of you being promoted. They are unable to lie to me.


    ¡°That aside, the Legio Noctis is a guild comprised of multiple, fully autonomous legions.¡± I began pacing. ¡°Each legion is to essentially be its own empire, complete with a self-sufficient industry, a civilian population, their own culture, and a specific specialty. So too will that be true for the Corps created by those of you who will not command a legion. However, you will not start as such. We are building this organization from the top down, so we must work in reverse.¡±


    Pausing, I allowed a stream of Moonlight to fall from my hands and form a diagram, detailing the ranks for the living along with their benefits. ¡°The benefits of being a founder notwithstanding, as a result of this accelerated course, you all will be promoted to Captains come our evolutions. Thus your task will be to gather individuals who will be suitable to become the staff officers for your company, including an Executive Officer, a Marshal, an Engineer, a Civil Officer, a General, a Witch, and a Wizard, plus two more individuals to lead each of your four future platoons. Once done, you and your subordinates will be promoted to Commanders and Captains respectively, allowing you all to step up the ladder each time you fill the ranks below.


    ¡°In the end, the first officers you recruit will become the most senior leaders of your organization. The best of you will become Imperators- Legion Commanders. As of yet, there are five guaranteed Imperators. I aim for six more to join them by this time next year. But there is a long journey before that becomes a reality. You all will begin as Captains, and as Captains, your weekly pay will be five hundred gold. You will receive back pay in that amount after these six months are complete.¡± I added, causing a few choked guffaws to erupt from the crowd.


    ¡°In addition to that is a personalized set of enchanted equipment and a custom vehicle, plus another tower. Not for your homes.¡± I gestured to our surroundings. ¡°For your headquarters. So too will you receive land for your civilians, of course. With these things, your Doppelganger and your subordinates can recruit all throughout next year and the following year when we shadow the Nonusian guilds. And so, by the time we return to Maru, our Legions will have been fully formed.¡±


    I paused to conjure an annotated map of Hill Base, shocking the Epethians to their core. ¡° The Legion¡¯s primary mission is to breach the barrier in Maru and reclaim the portals for Maruleans. They can decide what to do with them. After that, you all may retire. Or, if you wish, you may continue serving and join me as I explore Betrarth and the other realms.¡±


    ¡°As we explore and move past distant lands, we¡¯ll be making new Legions and leaving them in place while we press forward.¡± I continued, showing them the path I carved across the realms, complete with the worlds and moons floating high above the astronomical swathes of land. ¡°The best of you will be the ones to form or head these new Legions. I imagine there being around thirty or so in the end, formed by some of you. Will their lands become places where future Legionaries come to learn of their Classes, or will they become metropolises or groves with a culture influenced by your very lives? That will be up to you to decide. Whoever that may be.


    ¡°This is the road on which we march, and the first steps were taken today. As of now, it¡¯s just us. You all and me. Students and teacher. in just a few years, however, we will number in the millions. And each of those millions will follow in these very steps we take. Like you, their first lesson will involve removing the fear of death from their hearts, ¡®cause you work for me now. You die when I say you die. And even then¡­" I spread my arms before maniacally laughing with mana filling my voice to such an intensity that it caused the beakers to rattle atop their hotplates, and I chanted. ¡°We do not die!¡±


    "We multiply!" Zaraxus and the Bobs stepped forth from the shadows lining the rooms, chanting as one. ¡°We thrive!¡±


    ¡°WE ARE LEGION!¡±


    ¡°WE ARE NOX!¡±

 194 - The Standard

    Toni Forester.


    ***


    ¡°Welcome to the practice fields.¡±


    As in his usual fashion, Amun emphatically spread his arms across this vast empty grassland. Here, on the shores of the tower, it was just him and us. Plus our clones and¡­ undead.


    Though we were somewhat scattered far and wide, his voice carried through the mouths of our clones. Invoking in his slow drawl, the grandeur of a grand hall opening its doors on the night of its debut. As if in cheer, the weeds and grasses and the air itself rippled and waved before pacing feet; refusing to die down as his words flowed through the clones of darkness.


    ¡°As stated before, the next block of instruction will be for magic and manipulation practice. One hour for each if you possess a magical affinity. Those already up to my standards in manipulation will teach the rest.¡±


    With a final nod, he turned to square up with his Doppelganger and blew him away with a burst of wind that belied his magical attributes. Thereby releasing us to teach and train.


    But¡­ ¡°Who should I train?¡±


    Not including myself, five other people wanted to become Rangers. Five people I¡¯d train with and get to know later, one of whom was Jaimess. Amun¡¯s vassal. One of his vassals, at least. I couldn¡¯t wait to work with him. To get to know him. But more importantly, I couldn¡¯t wait to see what our Ranger training would be like. Nor could I fantasize about it, though. Instead, my attention was pulled to my shadow, congealing into a hauntingly dark soup before the crown of a head- my head- appeared at my feet.


    Smiling wide all the while, my Doppelganger rose, turned, and pointed through the fray. Turning my attention to a boy who looked more like a kid than he already was. He was short and frail. With black hair tied loosely into a ponytail and a boyishly contoured face concealed over the mouth and nose by a piece of black cloth. He wore tan baggy pants with a long-sleeved black shirt, stitched throughout with the greens and browns of the Bodhi Tree. What was weird was that he walked with his head low while his eyes darted around the crowd. Almost like he didn¡¯t want to be seen.


    ¡°That''s Rommy Peak.¡± My clone said in a way that was unlike my voice. It was more like Amun¡¯s. ¡°Like you, he has Snow Magic. He, however, was born with the affinity.¡±


    I nodded in affirmation with that. Not because my suspicions had been confirmed, far from it. But because I saw his clone whispering a similar message in his ear.


    ¡°So much for introductions.¡± I chuckled weakly as I approached, saying the first thing that came to mind. ¡°Why do you hide your face?¡±


    ¡°A man coughed on me once and I got sick.¡± He absentmindedly replied. ¡°I hate being unclean. Learning about those germ things only made it worse. They creep me out.¡±


    ¡°Well that''s a bit ridiculous,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°What?¡± He turned back to me, seething. Then turned away in the next breath, sighing deeply. ¡°Whatever.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure your clone has already told you, but I¡¯m Toni. We both have an affinity for snow. So¡­ I guess we¡¯ll be working together in an hour?¡±


    ¡°Then talk to me in an hour.¡± He spat through his mask, then curtly turned away.


    ¡°Ugh, how rude!¡± I recoiled, stammered, and muttered. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re right, but-¡±


    Twin torches roared to life as my words were cut short, acting as the hands of a giant to lift me into the air, capturing Rommy¡¯s attention whole. ¡°Amun wants everyone to be able to fly with manipulation.¡± I looked down at his wide eyes with a big smirk. ¡°Fire is the easiest way. But it''s hard for those like us at first.¡±


    Like others in my party, I watched my student struggle, initially. He tried and tried with fire, at first. Managing only a wild flame that seared his sleeves up to the elbows. With words from his Doppelganger, he switched to a pillar of stone to launch him into the air, and a gust of wind aimed to lift him from below.


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


    Ten minutes led to twenty minutes of failure, and then I felt bad. I tried to offer hints, but he only took words of encouragement from himself but not in his voice. Always in riddles that left one thinking, rather than experimenting like we were tasked with.


    Like everyone else- like me, Rommy was no different. He listened to his clone and squinted and darted his eyes around while he pondered and contemplated the nature of the elements. Individually and combined.


    He succeeded with the torch and managed to suspend himself just above the ground by the end of the hour. Daunting though it seemed for those like us- and still troublesome if not properly controlled- it was a process of producing a flame and intensifying it with air. Something that we of the Snow had an innate mastery of. Rommy more so than me. Not only that, but his drive was far greater than mine. I was a Forester. Both in name and Class. Something that had been a certainty since the day I was born. Something I had no part in deciding. Until now at least.


    Was it the same for him, I wondered. And then wondered the same for the many others who swore their lives to Amun. Was it to rebel and decide how to live their lives for themselves like me and possibly Rebecca and Scarlett did; I needed to know.


    If I remembered correctly, he was the same as the other soon-to-be druid, Mary Farmer. An Epethian commoner. But I had no idea what that even meant. I had no idea what class he wanted to become or why. I needed to know. But if I learned anything from our earlier exchange, it was that he took our training seriously. So, if I wanted to know, I had to meet his severity in turn.


    Surprisingly, he approached me before I could act. He was before me in just a few strides, disconcertingly soundless strides, I add. Eerily so, until my eyes were drawn to a booklet that appeared in his hand from seemingly nowhere. ¡°I assume you have one of these?¡±


    Bound in fur and fastened shut with a belt, it was both similar and dissimilar to mine. Wherein his was of white and gray with a blue emblem, mine was brown and blue with a white emblem. Both were the same thickness and were centered by a large snowflake. Ours and no doubt everyone else¡¯s explained the complex sequence that went into the formation of our affinities in nature; in my and his case, Mud and Snow, and Snow and Gust. With the scientific knowledge then imparted to us, our tomes moved on to give a few ideas for new spells. Which we were eager to try.


    ¡°Snowflake.¡± He said with power in his voice. And the air responded by taking on a blue-white hue and condensing- freezing into a six-sided crystal in the palm of his hand. ¡°It¡¯s like a throwing star.¡± He airily gasped, then flung it away with such speed that I almost missed the action. My head was in mid-tilt when I turned to face his clone, clutching his stomach as he fell to the ground.


    I turned back to him and noticed the impression beneath his mask. Smiling. Though not with malice. With awe.


    ¡°There¡¯s a spell I¡¯ve been working on.¡± I stepped in front of his rising clone, bringing his cold blue eyes to me. ¡°To sharpen the individual flakes and send them out in a blizzard. I can do the last part, but my snow doesn¡¯t always cut. I assume it should be easier for you. Being born with Snow.


    ¡°I also have Gust Magic,¡± he said. Though I can tell it was no boast. Simply a fact. It was blunt and effortless. Much like his act of turning and releasing a sum of mana that was comparable to mine in potency.


    The mana poured into a vortex of thickening snow. Surrounding Rommy in a veil of white until the stream of energy flowing from within him petered out. The blizzard ebbed and lurched with a wave of his hand. Sending a cone of frost showering over his Doppelganger and the dead man of shadows standing behind him.


    They both were lacerated. Eviscerated, in the case of the dead man. How weak they were, despite how terrifying they seemed. Though, being weak mattered little when you could keep returning to your feet after dying.


    ¡°They will grow stronger.¡± I- my Doppelganger said. ¡°They must kill to evolve. Unlike us, their potential is limitless.¡±


    ¡°Your spell is only the first part of the equation,¡± Rommy- his Doppelganger said, stepping between us all to bring our eyes to his extended finger. "Fuse your magics together."


    ¡°Like this.¡± My clone cheekily said, mimicking the action with raised brows until we complied.


    As Rommy did and was doing now, I created a small blizzard that blew outward from my finger. Just as potent as Rommy¡¯s, but with less effort to maintain the size. Even then, I could tell his was just¡­ better.


    But our clones cared not.


    ¡°Fuse your mana.¡±


    ¡°All of it.¡±


    We looked first at our clones, and then at each other before doing what was asked. I released more mana from my Well and sought to compress the blizzard into a pillar.


    But then came a scream in my voice. ¡°Focus your mana into the smallest point imaginable!¡±


    Then a scream in his. ¡°Sharpen your mana into a blade.¡±


    Again, we did as we were told. Rommy to a degree that was far greater than mine. Within moments he flattened the gelid storm emanating from his finger and, without being prompted, stomped forward with a downward swing.


    My body spurred into action on its own volition. Leaping back to release my spell with a rising flick of the wrist.


    My Permafrost Javelin traced behind the white razor-thin line of Rommy¡¯s spell, hardly perceptible though it was. It carved into first his clone and then mine in a blinding flash of white. Severing the two of them and more as the spells faded into the distance to peter out, leaving a fifty-meter wake of permafrost and gelid winds lying in their wake.


    "Wow!"


    ¡°Holy shit!¡± We both gasped, then turned our wide eyes to each other.


    ¡°Now.¡± Our Doppelgangers grinned in unison. ¡°Perfect the technique. Make it your own. And then name your spell.¡±

 195 - The Path

    ¡®The blind arrogance of youth turned sour. That''s why we joined- why I did, at least. That was a good thing in my opinion.


    If it weren''t for him, our blind arrogance and inflated egos would have led us to explore Nonus or the other realms on our lonesome or with the few friends we made here. Like the many who came before us, we thought we were the strongest because we were told we were the strongest. But what they didn¡¯t tell us was that the moniker was restricted to the realm in which we were born.


    Like the many who came before, the lucky ones would have met a quick end. The rest of us would have returned to civilization scarred and traumatized to hang up our blades and live meek lives in peace.


    You see them everywhere you go. The shrouded ones that go unseen in taverns. The cranky geezers who live high in the mountains, unbeknownst to the townsfolk below. Telling stories of old to any and all who wandered by. Stories that few believed to be true. Stories that probed the arrogant youth to learn from them and seek to emulate them; repeating the cycle.


    Wasted potential. That could have been us.


    The shattered ego of the elderly is what brought me here. Misery loves company, as they say.


    Wasted potential. That could have been me.


    Instead, I saw firsthand what overwhelming power was and swore to never oppose it. I had no choice but to ally with it; for it was only a matter of time before such power came from elsewhere to oppose me and mine. That is one of nature¡¯s laws: No peace lasts forever.


    Not on the Mortal Plane.


    I had no choice but to pray and hope to claim some of that power for myself. To walk the path those geezers set me on and become more than they imagined possible.


    And of course, I did. We all did.


    What a responsibility it was. What a burden. Heavy, like the gravity of ten thousand suns. Such suffering we experienced... coupled with such awe.


    It was exactly as he said it would be. Everything. All of it was just as glorious as he foresaw. And more. Somehow, by the Gods that looked down on that world, our lives were more than any of us could have ever imagined possible.


    Again, that''s a good thing in my opinion.''


    ''Tales of the Ghost Blizzard.'' Log #1


    ***


    Rommy Peak.


    ***


    While she was annoying, that spell of hers was amazing. If not crass. So much snow everywhere. So much that the mud she flung out earlier was now caked in permafrost, freezing our undead and Doppelgangers in place each time they reconstituted.


    Effective and flashy, but not my style.


    Still, the excitement of it all got me thinking about the limits of my magic and more, how they could tie into my class. The time flew by after that. Before I knew it, our companions were corralling everyone into different groups.


    As they would any other time, my eyes and everyone else¡¯s fell toward Amun. Mostly because he was our leader now, but also because he loved to talk. What was interesting, though, was that we all liked listening. He was an enigma. To me, and to everyone else it seemed. I knew him as the heir to the Odissian Empire. A Devil of the House of Cole. Half-drow too, and damn proud of it.


    I heard the stories just like every other Epethian. From slave to royal families, tales and songs of the devils from across the sea were passed down. Of the monsters in human form, prowling through the night. Spreading death and destruction in their wake, claiming innocent and sinners alike. ''Always treat them with the utmost respect,'' they would always say, ''for running, hiding, or fighting spelled demise.''


    Of course, I never saw such a thing happen. Nor did anyone else I knew back there in Maru. In my eyes, the stories surrounding the House of Cole were nothing more than myths and legends. Even the Necro King was no different.


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    Even the House of Cole¡¯s Heir was no different.


    The only monsters I knew were the crown and those that served it. Those who went against them may as well have lived in the Underworld, for they were unmercifully hunted and disappeared and tortured or enslaved or experimented on until the end of their days were near. Then, they were forced to breed so that the experiments and torture could continue with their offspring. Peter was a living example of that.


    On the other hand, that left a blank slate for Amun in my eyes. His personality aside, his choices were what fascinated me the most. He was born with all the wealth and power one in Maru could hope to have but cared little for it. I could tell it was only a means to an end for him. A means to explore the realms with no one standing in his way. No matter how powerful they were.


    He was a natural-born Rogue who sought to be the opposite, a Monk. And an Artificer too. Though with his genius, that was all but expected.


    As a Monk would have done, I assumed, Amun didn¡¯t build a tower, he built a temple. Then he invited us into his domain to better ourselves alongside him. Now, the first day of such an endeavor was nearly done, and in the several hours that passed since I first woke, I¡¯ve accomplished more than in the six months that have passed since arriving at the Bodhi Tree.


    Well, that wasn¡¯t entirely true.


    It was truer to say that I''d been tested in a way that I never thought possible. Through training and lessons in science and magic with my Doppelganger, I learned about the complex idiosyncrasies that constituted Rommy Peak. My flaws, my weaknesses. My misconceptions about perception and life and death. It was all made clear in a way that was indescribable; all made so by fighting until the brink of death, then healing to fight again.


    There was nothing more educational than familiarizing oneself with the most primal parts of their being- a fear of death- I soon learned. Nothing but the Sovereign who cast it.


    The science of our affinities was one thing, and copying the paths in the library was another; but if there was anything the day had taught me, it was that whatever awaited us in the Temple would exceed our expectations by leaps and bounds.


    What felt like a soft kick to my mid-back and a soft pale glow pulled my thoughts into the distance, which was long gone once I found myself in a cramped tunnel somewhere in the Temple. That too was amazing. The floating rock in the sky that somehow held power. Everything about this was amazing.


    ¡°Everything I heard about the House of Cole was wrong,¡± I said to myself, and I replied.


    ¡°Myths often are. But still, they contain truth.¡±


    It was said in my voice, though it eerily sounded like Amun. Or, perhaps it didn¡¯t, and it was just my mind continuing to hear it after the first time. ¡°I should come up with a nickname for you.¡±


    ¡°And an alias for yourself.¡± My Doppelganger grinned at both me and the door. ¡°To become a Rogue is to forever wear a mask over your true self. But.¡± He gestured between us. ¡°We of the Legio Noctis can be two places at once. Forever masked and unmasked simultaneously.¡±


    ¡°So, you¡¯ll be my Rogue identity?¡± I pondered aloud.


    ¡°Whenever you are not.¡± He nodded.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I nodded back. ¡°I¡¯ll think of a name.¡±


    ¡°In here.¡± My clone said with a silent jerk of the neck.


    Though he guided me further down the tunnel, he disappeared at the end so that I could be the one to force the door open.


    The loud groan that spread through the room belied the fresh wood and greased iron of the massive doors. An oversight on my part, bringing all the more shame upon me when I entered a doorless antechamber containing a single person. A weasel-faced guy lounging on the floor on the left corner, snickering through his eyes and a cloud of smoke.


    ¡°Ugh.¡± I waved the lingering smoke aside and turned my gaze across the convex wall before me; seamless and with towering ceilings just like the room outside. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to train in here?¡±


    ¡°Naturally,¡± the weasel said.


    ¡°And why are you smoking inside!?¡± I spat at him.


    He calmly shrugged. ¡°Amun does.¡±


    ¡°Gross.¡± Sighing, I turned and started patting the wall, looking for a seam or hidden door or anything to get me out of this place.


    Nothing. Not even a scratch was found on more than half the wall. Not until I stepped over a pinhole that pushed against the sole of my foot ever so slightly did I notice anything. A soft hiss suddenly rose and stopped when a relatively sharp something pricked at my back, causing me to turn just as a wooden stick clattered to the ground.


    The Weasel¡¯s judging eyes were brought upon me almost immediately. ¡°Watch out for traps.¡± He snickered.


    ¡°You are Rogues. This is a Dungeon.¡± My clone appeared from nowhere, turning his eyes between us. ¡°The traps will become more complex as you traverse the labyrinth. More dangerous and deadly as the weeks pass into months.¡±


    ¡°You are Rogues of the Legio Noctis,¡± the Weasel¡¯s clone said this time. ¡°No guards, traps, or locked doors are to impede you. You go as you please because none are aware of your goings in the first place. Such is the life of the Rogue. Such will be your life here.¡± Both clones gestured around us. ¡°Both inside this training hall and within the whole of Noctis Reach.¡±


    ¡°Now this is exciting.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s more exciting is Amun¡¯s knowledge of Subclasses.¡± My clone grinned wider than I was already. "Through me, you have access to these Master Paths, and perhaps what lies beyond them."


    ¡°I¡¯ve decided to be a thief,¡± the Weasel said, both to his clone and me. ¡°Basic, I know. But my hope is to get something special from this Twilight stuff. I ain''t stressing it if I don¡¯t, though. I¡¯m good at what I do.¡±


    ¡°We walk the path of the Grenadier.¡±


    I spun about at once and felt shame creep up on me again. To be so enamored by my situation that I failed to notice a second body and his clone hidden deep in the corner above


    was admirable on his part; shameful on mine.


    ¡°As for us,¡± my clone said, bringing my eyes down to him. ¡°We were trained in the ancient art of a Master Class nearly lost to time in Maru.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± my clone said, paused, and waited for me to say it with him.


    ¡°Ugh." I groaned. "I''m a Shinobi.¡±

 196 - Vampyre! Vampyr! Vampire!

    Amun.


    ***


    It was a surprise to see the many Master Classes the students- my subordinates, were aiming for. Some of them were tied to their backgrounds, be they species or heritage. And a surprising number of others sought to obtain a new Class as a result of their pledges.


    Unsurprisingly, most of them were aiming to be Fighters. The three Amazonian Warriors and Zarzok were among those that I fully expected to be Fighters. As were Kaolinite, Samson, and Slate; aiming to be a Duelist, Battle Master, and Champion respectively. Also among them, however, was Winston Epeth, aiming to be a Battle Mage like Doyle. And then there was Zarzok. As per his introduction, he was all but certain of becoming an Executioner. Regardless if he would or not, his name was scribbled on the fight club¡¯s roster and he was sent with the others to train, practice, and duel without end.


    Amethyst and the Path of the Totem. Corundum, on the Path of a different kind of Champion. Darekhil Mountainpike, the Mountainpike Brawler. Elurial, a Bruiser. Thordrohilda Diamondblade, the Stone Warden. And of course, Roheisa Deapou. They were the Barbarians, all with ordinary classes, save the last of them, who had been walking towards the same Prestige Class her father had. The Vulcanox Berserker.


    The Barbarians were one of the few groups to be sent outside of the grounds. Deep in the wilderness, just outside of the Cove, they were sent to live rough and learn the ways of bushcraft before they fell fully into a nomadic raider¡¯s lifestyle. Forever on the hunt for the coveted Shroom of Fury.


    The first of the other groups sent elsewhere were the Druids. Composed only of Scarlett, who expected to have the same Prestige Class found throughout her family; and Mary, who hoped to receive a Master Class associated with Moonlight. They were sent to barren lands and grassy fields that housed little life and were instructed to build an ecosystem that would keep flourishing long after they left; though it went without saying that those landscapes would become their future groves.


    Naturally, the Rangers were the second group transported into the deep woods. Like the Barbarians, they too learned the art of Bushcraft. But their focus was more on surviving within their favored environments and spending enough time to gain a neutral if not positive standing with the local fauna. Still, their prospective Classes made for some interesting situations for the Rangers. Jaimess was all but obsessing over his encounter, rightfully so, and both Curious Twig and Toni wished for the same as Mary, a Class associated with Twilight and Moonlight. Only Zeke Smeal aimed for a Class recorded enough over time to be known as common. The Settler. Duke and Rebecca, however, aimed for the striking titles of Thunder Strider and Plasma Stalker. But unfortunately, they were to their species or hereditary affinities, thus I had little idea what those were.


    As for the Paladins, they were sent to the stables with the horses we didn¡¯t have. That wasn¡¯t to say I had an undead or two on the prowl for some type of mountable beast, however. Regardless, Carbury and Karu were there. The former only because he wished to be and the latter to give them some type of experience. Carbury, though, had little to no knowledge of human endeavors, nor did he wish to learn. Especially about the training needed to become a Paladin.


    As a result of their oaths, they were the most esoteric of all Classes, more so even than Warlocks, for a Paladin''s power was the result of keeping one¡¯s word with the universe itself. Or, if they wished, to a deity. Regardless, the simple fact of their power resulting from their conviction made each Paladin the holder of a Master Class. Even if they took the same oath. As for the Legion¡¯s Paladins, few knew what oath they¡¯d take just yet. Which made it all the more interesting to find out when the time came.


    Such was a different story for the Rogues, Bards, and Artificers, however. Rommy Peak, Rhody, and Edgar Lope were the three traversing the Dungeon as best they could while Ritrix Mildbluff and Winston''s vassal, Willard Rowe were in the lounge, toying with the instruments that were steadily pouring out from the industrial yard below, where Ed and the other two dwarves were researching and creating with Matthew Reid, Edgar''s master, and our prospective Demolitionist.


    Phelia and, surprisingly, Scarlett¡¯s Doppelganger were taken to the morgue. Alone, as the only two Witches, they were tasked with either performing autopsy after autopsy on the undead or performing operations on their umbral counterparts before they expired.


    With the vampires on the observation deck, that left Peter, Rua, and Veil of Shadows in the monastic temple. My next destinations, in that order. But first came the oddballs. The Warlocks, and Ash.


    For Bazz, it was easy. There was nothing that would appease him and the God of War more than the recipes for nitroglycerin and dynamite, RDX, TNT, and finally Compositions B and C-4. While there were more powerful explosives out there, I was confident the information was enough to keep him occupied for at least a few decades and sent him off in the woods to break some things with his own power in the meantime.


    As for Urshure, he had flown away before I Bamfed everyone to their locales. I was confident that his brooding would pave the way for him. However, Cononthoth¡¯s words to him still piqued my interest.


    Her awakening would be both interesting and informative. But that was months away. For now, my immediate focus was on Ash, the Fire Djinni. And Hogaz, the wannabe Warlock. I told the latter to think really hard and be truly certain before he decided to make a pact, then gave him my word we would discuss it more later. Until then, I gave him the suggestion to hang out with the undead down below to get him familiarized with the scale of machinery we would be working with. He would surely need it for what I had projected for him.


    As for Ash, I told him what he already knew. That only he could increase the power of his Sorcery. Still, however, I invited him to train with Caleb for now. While he was human in life, he was a pyromancer all the same. That had to count for something.


    With the administrative work complete, seconds though it took, I hurriedly Bamfed to the observation deck and Bamfed again to the dais at the center, poised atop the ceiling. As I somewhat expected, Elijah was there, standing in the shade of a pillar as he looked out upon the sun on its slow descent below the mortal plane.


    ¡°Only a couple of hours until dusk.¡± He chuckled softly, seemingly to himself. ¡°It brings joy that the nights are just as long as the days now.¡± He turned to me, bearing a fanged smile that radiated the same warmth of the sun. ¡°Just as bright too.¡±


    The church doors swung open at that moment. Massive and overbearing they were, yet they were pulled aside as easily as a feather being lifted from the ground. Strutting out ever so regally came Opal and Zakira- a strange sight for the latter.


    ¡°We need to tell you something.¡± They both said, stepping and stomping toward the wall to walk up and eventually step onto the ceiling to halt by my sides, inverted.


    ¡°I told you I was disowned from my family,¡± Zakira paused to halt at my right side. ¡°But.¡± She paused. ¡°I didn¡¯t tell you why.¡±


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    ¡°I figured you¡¯d tell me whenever you were ready.¡± I nodded. Put on my best smile.


    And she smiled back. ¡°Yes. I¡¯m ready.¡±


    ¡°But first,¡± Opal stepped forward, stopping at my left. ¡°I have to explain the different types of vampires.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± I withdrew my coveted chair from my shadow, lit a smoke, and then invited the two to sit atop the oversized armrests. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±


    ¡°It started eons ago, with the first of our kind. The Vampyre. With a Y and an E.¡± Opal clarified with a sharpness in her eyes that faded suddenly. ¡°Sange, of the Blood, was her name. A regal woman who was said to have the powers of all the Clans. In addition to darkness.¡±


    She paused. For a long moment, she paused and stared at me as if she hoped for something to be confirmed. Both then and after she continued. ¡°She was even immune to our weaknesses. But above all.¡± She gestured to her and Zakira. ¡°She is the Matron of the thirteen Vampyr Clans. With a Y and no E.¡± She clarified again. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve felt it? Given how¡­ close you and Zed are.¡±


    ¡°I have.¡± I phlegmatically nodded. ¡°An occasional thump in the chest. Happens no more than once a minute or so. Like a heartbeat. Slow and soft, like it struggles to live.


    ¡°Just like yours!¡± Zakira beamed.


    ¡°Really?¡± I palmed my chest in surprise. I knew my skin was cold and I knew I could go a while without blinking, but¡­ ¡°I never noticed.¡±


    ¡°We are Vampyr,¡± Opal said. ¡°Unlike any other undead, in the sense that we are born with beating hearts. Unlike many other creatures across the realms, in the sense that we go through a sort of, developmental evolution. One started by the act of our birth and completed through a ritual. Maturing, if you will. But for the undead.


    ¡°If I¡¯m not mistaken.¡± She gestured to her side, pointing to nowhere in particular. ¡°Your shadows are the same.¡±


    ¡°Somewhat.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°Well, either way. From birth until the age of ten, our bodies evolve and evolve further as we feed. We lose our aversion to sunlight at the age of three. After that, the light makes us lose our power. We become normal. Weak.¡± She gestured to the point of light beyond Elijah. ¡°Our climbing ability and our amorphous forms are awakened at the age of five. By eight, we are resistant to non-magical attacks. And on and on, until we reach the age of ten, when we¡¯re expected to perform the final ritual to ascend to a Vampyr Lady or Lord.


    ¡°The ritual requires us to traumatize an innocent- someone close to us with fear before draining their blood. That blood, pure and potent with adrenaline and the other chemicals produced by a body in such a state, was to be poured into a bath of our ichor, mixed, then returned to our bodies; awakening our blood magic.¡±


    She paused as if it would have affected the not-so-dramatic revelation. But I only blinked at the sudden intensity of the tale. ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°I went through the process willingly. But¡­ Zakira.¡± She gestured to her.


    ¡°I declined.¡± She said with unerring optimism. ¡°My parents forced me to do it anyway. But.¡± She quickly stepped forward, her voice rising to a pitch that was¡­ concerning to my ears. ¡°I would¡¯ve died if I didn¡¯t! So¡­ I just felt bad it had to be that way. He was so nice. His name was Damien.


    ¡°My- my clan disowned me because I didn¡¯t want to kill my first friend.¡± She sobbed a moment later. ¡°I had no choice but to go through the portal to Nonus. I was so lonely. And scared. They hunted me for years before I met you.¡± She sobbed again. Tried to before I pulled her in for a hug.


    ¡°That was something I was curious about.¡± I looked up to Opal after several tear-filled minutes and reassuring words. ¡°Olga told us that the humans of Nonus have no idea where the portal to Vagua is. Yet you and others traveled through it.¡±


    ¡°Quite frankly, she doesn''t know what she''s talking about. I mean, orcs are natural druids?¡± Opal huffed. ¡°That said, there¡¯s an unspoken rule there. Only fiends, devils, and undead should know. You are two out of three. So¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s in the Darkworld,¡± Zakira whispered into my chest. ¡°Each of the Vaguan portals is in a different Hell. We travel between them all the time.¡±


    ¡°Of course they are.¡± I chuckled wryly. And of course, both ends of each portal would be placed at similar elevations. Moreover, few humans were willing to traverse the Darkworld looking for a portal that led to the Hells of all places. ¡°Thank you for telling me.¡± I hugged Zakira tighter.


    ¡°I went through the portal after her,¡± Opal said. ¡°Months after. But still, it took me three years to find her. I followed her to the surface. Used the powers from our ritual to make a thrall. A vampire. With an I.¡± She gestured to Elijah. ¡°While he¡¯s stronger, faster, and more resilient than he was while alive. He has none of our magic and sunlight bothers him on top of making him... normal. Regardless, we wouldn¡¯t have survived were it not for his help.


    ¡°Still, however, it was... difficult.¡± She sighed heavily, and yet with warmth. ¡°Eventually, though, we heard about this place. Here, we found you, the newest Sovereign of Death. A God to both the living and dead.¡±


    Zakira lifted her head at that time to center her bulbous red eyes on mine and hold her gaze for a long moment. I almost began to think she was expecting something romantic. Until she screamed. ¡°I need a coffin!¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°A resting place,¡± Opal calmly said. ¡°The only place we can sleep. However, its true purpose is for when we are¡­ incapacitated.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± I slowly nodded. ¡°That¡¯s another thing that still remains unclear. I know there are specific conditions to killing a vampire?¡±


    ¡°Very specific conditions, yes.¡± She nodded. ¡°A stake through the heart will paralyze us. Running water is like acid to us. Sunlight alone makes us lose our powers. We are subject to lethal damage if exposed to either while in the light. Magical weapons harm us too.¡± She added. ¡°Like anyone else, enough damage will incapacitate us. But the only way to permanently end us would be to decapitate us while we¡¯re down and burn the remains to ashes, then perhaps dump the ashes into a river to be sure.¡±


    ¡°Jeez.¡± I snorted. "That''s a lot."


    ¡°Yes.¡± Opal phlegmatically nodded. ¡°On the contrary, being drenched with holy water would do the trick in moments. But few can afford that much. That said...¡± She paused to glance at the back of her hand. ¡°I¡¯m not so sure if even that would work now.¡± Only then did she chuckle. Soft and distantly, before a significant pause spread in the time it took for her eyes to return to me. Then she startled back as if she knew not where she was. ¡°Anyway, we will remain paralyzed until the stake is removed or the sun sets, in which case we will be incapacitated. If we go down in a river, we¡¯ll remain as a skeleton until we are recovered. In either case, our amorphous form will be unconsciously assumed the moment it is able. Our bodies will then migrate to our coffins. Where we¡¯ll remain until we are healed enough to reawaken. If we have none, we will simply go to the nearest cave or something.


    ¡°It can be any place we choose.¡± She glanced at her church through her peripherals. ¡°But¡­ we have yet to make ours.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± I nodded slowly. At first. Then faster as the cogs began to turn and the orders got sent out to my clone. ¡°I¡¯ll make three of the best coffins you¡¯ve ever seen. But.¡± I turned to Elijah. ¡°These two are Clerics. What will you be?¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I was knighted before I died. I can become a paladin. The Oath of Twilight has a nice ring to it.¡±


    ¡°Aw, man!¡± Zakira stomped. ¡°Now I need a Paladin!¡±


    ¡°A Paladin.¡± I puffed on my smoke a final time. Then tossed it aside. ¡°A Vampiric Paladin. An undead.¡±


    ¡°Uh-¡± Elijah chuckled nervously, unsure of the meaning behind my words. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°A vampiric paladin who works for a Sovereign of Death,¡± I muttered. But again, he needlessly affirmed my rhetoric.


    ¡°...Yes?¡±


    Though I had yet to learn how, Grandpa Lich heavily implied that I- we could teach others ritual necromancy. Yes, he wanted me to kill false necromancers. Those who stumbled upon the art, rather than those who sought the approval of Nergal or Grimm; the presumed ancient children of the Nox. Gods that I had to find and ¡®kill¡¯ if I wanted to gain their knowledge. Kill in the exact same meaning as when I ¡®killed¡¯ Grandpa Lich before our lessons. So too would I have to fight them for their knowledge. Including Corvus. Including Cole.


    Thus was what it meant to be a Sovereign of Death.


    But with that came a privilege. With that came the knowledge of the Death Arts. Arts that extended far beyond mere wizardry. It extended to all the classes, I was sure. And for the Fighter variant that was the Knight, there was a Subclass that even I knew of in my past life.


    ¡°Yes. That¡¯s it,¡± I said, turning my grinning eyes to him. Then to the others, standing at my sides.


    ¡°Your first priority is to establish a Clergy.¡± I snorted at my misstep. Then began fishing in my pocket. ¡°Or rather.¡± I held up their amulets with a wide grin. ¡°First comes your Holy Symbols. Second, comes building our theologies. Your Clergy comes third.


    ¡°As I am a God. So too am I a Devil. Thus for you, Elijah.¡± I turned back to him. ¡°I offer you the opportunity to remain as a Knight and serve as the bastion of my undead Legions. Not as a Death Knight, for you are already dead.


    ¡°No. That would be a waste.¡± I smiled. ¡°If you so choose. If I am able, if you wish, you could become my first Blackguard.


    "A Vampiric Blackguard."

 197 - 666 Abyssal Avenue

    It was funny, watching them realize how weak I truly was. Without magic and without mana, in the presence of antimagic, I was nothing more than a frail half-drow who could tinker with shadows. I could tinker death if death was around me. With no void nearby to grasp onto, however- or at least we thought, my progenitors had no choice but to lead me down the undead path.


    I was one of the darker children of the Nox after all. Born a Shadow Necromancer, and more.


    Glorious as that may sound, it required me to learn to ignore pain and suffering. Both on my part and others. It required me to toe the line with death over and over and over again. For years and years against the Necro King and his army. That, and much much more.


    ¡®To learn the limits of my flesh and to prepare me for the worst of war.¡¯


    Not knowing the true reason behind my training, that was the answer I came up with to settle my mind. I trained relentlessly, and in turn, trained my subordinates relentlessly. I scratched the iceberg of my Sorcery, and when the end of my training came, I assumed I¡¯d chosen my own path to tread.


    Then came my armor.


    I never wanted it, the Abyssal Armor. Grandpa Lich forcing me to have it only tossed it the recesses of my second mind, to be remembered only sparsely. When I recalled killing Zaraxus and Lana, for example. Or when I explained my inability to remove it to Zoop. When I met with the False Devil. The least remembered, and ironically the most important memory was the night I attuned with it, however.


    Per Grandpa Lich¡¯s words, the heirloom was powered by the Soul Drive. A necrotic ''engine'' that was currently powered by a whopping four souls. But that was beside the point. Indeed, there was one aspect of the armor that had been overlooked for years. I had my Doppelganger- a walking communications hub and my dark clone embodied in one. But so too did I have another clone, I remembered. One that I never used. Immobile though it was at first, only because of the empty reserves in the Drive, though it still could have been controlled remotely or worn by my Doppelganger. With four souls now powering its umbral flesh, however, the Abyssal Armor was autonomous. Albeit unthinking and capable of one thing only. As such...


    ¡°I have two jobs for you,¡± I looked to my clone, then gathered darkness into my voice and let the whispers flow. ¡°Phantom Knight.¡±


    It appeared from nowhere. Like umbral tendrils that reached from around my body to form into jigsaw pieces of armor flying through space, clattering as they assembled into the form of an armored devil with a skeletonized, horned head.


    I pointed out and up across the room. Like many wings in the tower, the temple was a domed unit of stone that strongly resembled a sealed crater from the inside. A ring of flora surrounded the central peak, supporting a small ecosystem of insects, birds, and other small creatures while the peak itself contained the only structures in the room. A rock garden and meditation hall. The trail leading up to it was eight meters wide and riddled with obstacles found in monasteries existing on the outside, both at the time of my death and in the ancient past. This was our temple. A second home for the four of us Monks. A place where no magic or mana molding was permitted- from us.


    ¡°Take me to the brink.¡±


    My clone and the Phantom¡¯s unthinking, faceless helm traced the sand trail winding from the door around the base of the spire to spiral up the eighty meters to its peak as if it were making calculations for the task at hand.


    Of that, I doubted. The path was to be traversed at least once a day- or any time we wished to meditate. Only when we reached the top did our two hours of reflection begin. Naturally, I was no exception. On the contrary, being the leader meant I had to make things harder on myself. So I cast a small domain to increase my apparent gravity to slightly above Earth-normal and reaffirmed my intentions with my clone just to be sure.


    ¡°Make sure he keeps pace.¡± I snorted. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be dying on the start line.¡±


    ---


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    It went without saying, but the path was grueling. Hours passed before I arrived at the summit, beaten and bloodied to find Peter and the others long gone. It was just me and nature, though I hardly noticed either. Even as the animals scurried and fluttered among the rocks and trees, even as I scuttled across the rocks, I heard naught but an ethereal silence. Felt naught at all.


    With a guttural sigh escaping my tattered lungs, I let gravity take me and felt¡­ something eject from my head as my ass slammed into the ground. It wasn''t pain. Perhaps... it was my consciousness, I thought; until that thought faded too.


    It was all so peaceful after that. So quiet. Soundless. Dark.


    For the first time in perhaps ever, I felt entirely nothing but a detached sense of perception. It was a more ethereal feeling than lying in a deprivation tank by an order of magnitude, at least, for I felt what it was to feel but not feel; to see but not see; to hear and smell and taste and also experience nothing, both never and forever in the span of a few lifetimes; or seconds. To think of nothing and to simultaneously focus one¡¯s entirety on the ethereal fire burning so strongly in my memory, distant though it was.


    Ki.


    Scorching and gelid. Chaotic and tempered. Volatile and stable.


    Ki.


    I felt for it. Both within me and in the things around me. In the birds and the bees and the worms and the trees. I reached for it. Grasped at it. Felt it, ever so slightly, emanating from their cells while within me, I felt¡­ nothing.


    Or rather, everything.


    I felt not the Ki Abbot Eiriol showed me, but a hauntingly cold ¡®something¡¯ from another Plane. It was present in only a few things. Here and there, and there and there. Globules of cold heat breached the unsettling clarity of that other realm, which was as it had always been. Dark and cold and empty and unchanging.


    I felt it elsewhere also. But not in myself. I felt as I always had when standing on the edge. I felt the cold emptiness of the Under all around me. Unending. Unyielding. Everything was the same. Everything, and yet nothing. For the nothing that had been everything was changing into... something. Something that wasn''t dangerous, I at least knew. It gave me no sense of urgency. It produced no craving for violence. It yielded no suffering. There was only the detached sense of perception that was me. That, and that something- that... door.


    I was in the Under, where there was no such thing as death, for everything here had already died. But still, I was on the Mortal Plane, where death reigned with an adamantine fist. I was here, in the physical, but so too was I standing in the everywhere that was nowhere; staring at the ethereal fire trickling from the door that had been forced ajar by my arrival to this strange place.


    Ki.


    How brightly it burned from beyond that door. Such searing cold in contrast to that scalding flame I was shown.


    I could feel it. But not within myself. More importantly, however, I could see it.


    I could see it. More importantly, I could see that if I were to walk this path, I would have to harmonize with both the energy Abbot Eiriol showed me and whatever the ¡®something¡¯ was that lay beyond that door. Death¡¯s Door.


    No matter how long it took, I would grasp onto this Ki and make it my own. That, I promised myself.


    Long before I came there, that word was given. Though such things- words, they eluded me now. Thought itself did, in that place. There wasn¡¯t even an instinct to guide me. Only something that could have been described as ''nature'' told my disembodied self to sit- rest. The instinct of a dead mind, perhaps. I didn''t know. Nor did I care. I only sat. Meditated. Expanded the perception that I didn¡¯t have outward while the focus that I seemed to be without remained forward, centered on the door that was now so much farther away.


    I was no longer on the porch. Nowhere near the yard or even close to the fence. I was on the opposite side of a road that was no longer a road, sitting in a park that was not a park; and yet still, it was one. Everything still was. Stuck the same as it had been but also changing always like the lands in the Shadow Realm. A realm of darkness, illuminated by little pockets of fire that turned out magnificent when my contradicting sense of perception focused on the fires of life. Fires that burned a familiar seafoam green. Radiant in color in a way that no colors had ever been before. Ethereal, as if it were composed of a million hues my eyes were unable to detect until this very moment.


    Boom.


    A burst here. A bang there.


    Bang.


    Like nukes illuminating the night with the brilliance of their destruction.


    Boom.


    Something died here. Something died there. No matter what died anywhere, they released the vital energies flowing through their bodies with the radiance of an antimatter annihilation. Revealing, in the greatest clarity of those endless shades of seafoam green, the world of the rock garden in which my body sat.


    I saw the world around me. But only until the fire faded and waned to the abyssal smoke that forever surrounded Death¡¯s Manor, reducing the world around me to a peerless black expanse once again; save a sparse region, a sliver of seafoam-green light that peered through the infinite veil around me.


    Ki, I realized. My ki.


    The Ki of a Shadow Necromancer. So distant it was, yet so potent to remain so unignorable. So close it seemed, yet so foreign that grasping hold of it was a near impossibility. Much less circulating it.


    But no matter how long it took, I would master this task.


    That, I promised myself.

 198 - Dear Sincerity

    The Cloud Battlemage.


    ***


    ¡°Doyle!¡±


    ¡°Ugh!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re hoping to see the students returning?¡±


    I groaned again before turning over and down to Zeff. Always cheeky, he was. Even more so than he was strong. And he was as strong as he was small. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I? I¡¯m their teacher, aren¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Are you?¡± He innocuously quipped. ¡°If so, for how much longer?¡±


    Innocuous, his words were. But true all the same.


    ¡°Hard to think it¡¯s only been a tenday.¡± He chortled, uncaring of my dismissive gaze. ¡°The time has gone by so slowly.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I distantly chortled. A slow week of contemplative silence and two weeks since the chaos of the mid-year ceremony. ¡°Slow indeed.¡± But not slow enough.


    It was so peaceful. Almost like a vacation filled with the stresses of the job. I went to my classroom with the same enthusiasm as always, only to find it empty for the majority of the day. A few faces found their way to my office every so often, which was to be expected at this point of the year. But, it was the same faces that dropped by my room. Here or elsewhere around campus. Always the same ones. Rhot and Butuss. Snusz Silentjaw. Zaos Torhorn. Vlorlyn and Zohnos Lagunath. Zeke Silva. And of course, Lance Morningstar.


    Everyone else was just¡­ gone.


    46 students, scattered among the classes, took to the wilds and disappeared.


    We had an idea of where they went but scrying was no longer available to us. We could only see their bodies reaching a critical condition on a regular basis and we could see that, while they were in dire need of healing, the conflicts in which they were engaged were settled quickly thereafter. They were in no danger of dying. So, we had no obligation to intervene with their training, for the first step down any path was a personal endeavor. And some steps were immensely dangerous.


    In regards to that, my job was to be here, in my small domain. Ever-present to advise anyone who came my way. That was my coveted job. One of many years. No matter how boring that job now was, I did it in the same way as in years past. I sat in the rooms and rehearsed the lectures that would have taken place. Alone. Accompanied only by the hundred maddening reminders of the chaos looming around me.


    Everything from mere candles to the great sun itself reminded me of the Guilds of Light, stepping through the Bifrost with looks of embarrassment or indignation or both. Virtually everything else, from flashes of lightning to the leaves falling to the ground to my very shadow, reminded me of the arbiter of change. Of Amun, who paid the events he was the center of no mind. He ignored the target on his back and dragged eighty-five percent of the class with him into the wilds.


    To do what was something I obsessed over.


    Zeff and Olga too, it seemed. Whenever we crossed paths, like now, they couldn¡¯t help but openly conjecture about what was transpiring deep in the expansive wilds of the Bodhi Tree. And I, for better or worse, couldn¡¯t help but look up in the sky every so often. Searching for the pale rock floating high above the clouds. Like now.


    ¡°I look up at it often too.¡±


    I- we both turned to see Olga, standing tall and tired as she stared at the same point we all seemed to study in times of respite.


    ¡°It¡¯s like Zarzok said.¡± I sighed in resignation. Not from my claim, but from the aberrant skip in my heart from her claim. ¡°It makes you wonder and hope and dream. It¡¯s romantic.¡±


    ¡°I put in my resignation letter.¡±


    ¡°You wha-¡±


    ¡°DO NOT!¡± She wheeled around, pointing a slender finger into the bridge of Zeff''s belled nose, forcing him and even me back a step. ¡°Do not tell me that I¡¯m making a mistake. Do not try to convince me to change my mind. Just be happy for me. Can you do that?¡± Her voice quivered with that final question. Trembled in a tune that resonated with my mind. Surfaced the memory of our last encounter.


    ¡°Can I ask why?¡± Came a soft reply, moments later.


    ¡°Because I¡¯m tired, Zeff.¡± Olga groaned, and then I saw the despair in her eyes. I felt it in the way she threw her arms in frustration. I had been the same not too long ago.


    ¡°I¡¯m tired of this shit!¡± She waved around her. ¡°I¡¯m retiring and going somewhere to live. Not to teach. Not to fight. Not to play whatever game this is.¡± She threw her arms again, this time at the Tree. ¡°And before you ask.¡± She wheeled around to me. ¡°I don¡¯t know. If he can give me the retirement I¡¯m looking for. Sure- maybe. But I just want to live.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Zeff suddenly pointed, pulling our eyes down to a small figure with dark skin, walking side-by-side with a horned man of red skin. ¡°You may as well ask him. Or at least get your arrangements in order before the semester ends.¡±


    While my eyes fell on the Demon and Devil, they then fell to Zeff. Though I could only see the back of his head, I could almost see the weariness mirrored from his voice onto his face. To lose not only one but two decades-old peers. It was heartbreaking. There was the option to come with us, he knew. But still¡­ preconceptions and ties.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to say anything,¡± Olga said. ¡°Not yet. I¡¯m going to see what all the fuss is about for myself and come to my own conclusions.¡±


    She trotted off after that. Naturally, I did as well. But only after exchanging a long and pleading eye to Zeff did I trod down to the roots, trailing just behind Olga but not necessarily following her out into the courtyard to where the vined archway the two emerged from stood.


    They were absent, Amun and Zarzok, attending to whatever business they returned for. Leaving us to wait and look through the glimmering entryway in the face of a tree, staring at a vast cave brightly illuminated in an orange-yellow light.


    ¡°Well, that was easy.¡± Zarzok¡¯s voice rang through the courtyard like a bell. A red-skinned bell, nasally tuned with a boyishly high pitch. ¡°If you¡¯re looking for Amun, I¡¯m afraid you missed him,¡± he sang after prancing around to us. ¡°Disappeared into the darkness once his business was done. Ever elusive, that one.¡±


    ¡°It seems you two have become quite good friends now.¡± Zeff stepped in, chuckling warmly.


    ¡°Fiends. Friends.¡± Zarzok looked at him and turned away a moment later, lazily shrugging. ¡°Family.¡±


    All of our heads recoiled at once. ¡°Family?¡±


    ¡°Parent and child!¡± Zarzok beamed. ¡°I¡¯m a Legionary!¡± He stepped closer to us, waving a clawed finger precariously close to our noses. ¡°Of the Night.¡±


    ¡°But, you¡¯re a pride demon.¡± Zeff shook his head.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And yet, you joined this- Amun¡¯s¡­ Legion?¡±


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I?¡± Zarzok scoffed. ¡°Where else would I not only be accepted by everyone without even trying but find myself living within such a beating heart of pride? In this short time, we¡¯ve come to see that Amun¡¯s unbelievable words were no mere boast. His arrogance is warranted, and his knowledge is indeed boundless. That knowledge is now ours.¡± He nearly growled with¡­ something burning in his voice. Passion, perhaps.


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    ¡°Ours?¡± Olga asked with a raised brow.


    ¡°The Legions.¡± Zarzok smiled.


    ¡°Amun¡¯s guild.¡± I nodded in confirmation, but the look Zarzok gave me had me feeling like a dunce. Because perhaps I was.


    ¡°We are proud of our station. We are proud of everything we do.¡± Zarzok continued, turning back to my peers. ¡°Such pride empowers me, thus supporting my peers in turn. I am lucky. Fortunate- blessed even, to have this opportunity placed before me. So very fortunate to have my soul claimed by the Sovereign of Death."


    ¡°You sold your soul?¡± Zeff gasped.


    So too did Zarzok. "Ah, Yes. See, you Paradise-dwellers have always had such a negative perception of soul-binding contracts.¡± He threw his hands upwards and turned away. Only to turn back in the next breath, waving his clawed finger in Zeff¡¯s nose. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know they have different flavors of malevolence, depending on the Fiend or Fae in question. Regardless, breaking a contract leads to irreparable consequences. That¡¯s the bottom line.¡±


    ¡°And Amun can make contracts about whatever or with whoever he likes?¡± Olga openly conjectured.


    ¡°Every powerful Fiend, Fae, and even some vampires can.¡± Zarzok carelessly shrugged. ¡°Granted, their methods are different. But in any case, the clauses are a reflection of the dealer¡¯s nature. A Fiend dedicated to the Infernal War wouldn¡¯t care to make a contract unless it gave them an edge against their enemy for example.


    ¡°So then, the question to ask is. What is Amun¡¯s nature?¡± Zarzok pressed on before we could begin to reply. ¡°Based on your observations of him, how malevolent is he?¡±


    ¡°Depends,¡± I found myself saying. ¡°Normally? Not at all. But, if he¡¯s been threatened¡­¡±


    ¡°Exactly!¡± Zarzok clapped much like Zeff would and pointed to me. ¡°Exactly as it should be!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I want to find out,¡± Olga said, fully ignoring my answer and Zarzok¡¯s response. ¡°That, and I want to check up on my students.¡±


    Very well then!¡± Zarzok beamed. ¡°let¡¯s start the tour!¡±


    ¡°The¡­ tour?¡± I heard Zeff mutter. But Zarzok skipped away at that, leaving the three of us staring awkwardly at each other until, one by one, we followed behind the Strifling.


    Though I saw it from the other side, stepping through the portal was like traveling to another realm entirely. It was almost as if we were deep underground, standing within a vast dome of eerily smooth stone illuminated by radiant pipes and glowing balls of what appeared to be glass. Though that wasn¡¯t to say other sources of light weren¡¯t present. A small point of pale light hugged the ceiling, dozens if not a hundred meters above us. Drifting ever so slowly in a circle, like the moon so far away. While encapsulated in stone, the rest of the space was filled with a relatively large ring of grasses, vines, and small trees, interspersed with busts and paintings of snowy landscapes and renderings of individuals known by none present.


    ¡°Welcome to Noctis Reach!¡± Zarzok pranced before us and bowed. ¡°Specifically, the seventh floor. My room is there.¡±


    He let out a small chuckle as our eyes followed where he was pointing. An alcove of cracked black stones with a red material set within the voids.


    ¡°Your¡­ room?¡± The two muttered in unison as they turned their eyes about the rest of the structure. It was a source of amusement to him, Zarzok. The way he looked and laughed was eerily similar to the way Amun would. Or rather did when I reacted to the absurdity of the Cove.


    This¡­ tower was essentially the Cove scaled up to a village or perhaps larger. As Zarzok said, the vast floor in which we entered was but one of at least seven. More stood above us, but we were guided down a set of stairs within the central dais to look down on the sixth floor from above. The way down from there was¡­ eccentric. Though Zarzok and the other students we saw making their way up never seemed to mind.


    On the contrary, they seemed jovial about it and everything around them. Even the meeker students like Mary Farmer seemed transformed almost, in only a week. It was more than them becoming friends or like family. It was almost as if they were¡­ seasoned. Veterans who¡¯d been through thick and thin together. In only a week, all who befell our eyes were seen carrying the same confident swagger held by the members of Copper Party after the first few months of the school year.


    Nearly all of them were trailing behind us when we arrived at the outer yard, a vast ring of flora atop a ring of apparently floating stone. They stood in relative silence, muttering among themselves as we admired the tower, their home, from afar.


    In a way, it was similar to the Bodhi Tree. A tall spire, topped with branches and leaves that towered at the center of a small grove thriving in the shade of its canopy. Only, the trunk was made of stone and the grove was more of a farm or garden than a wild forest. Within it was an abundance of wheat, hops, faerie flax, rice, corn, cotton, tobacco, and of course, burnbud. Plus an array of more crops, all being tended to by a few undead.


    There was even a pair of them on the lake. A skeleton and a shadow in a canopied boat, fishing and throwing nets out into the water without pause. In fact, they were everywhere, even following the students around like lost puppies. They were in the ridiculously sized lounge, playing stringed and percussive instruments throughout the day and night. Eventually, the two greatest undead, we assumed, stepped through the darkness to guide us to the twelfth floor, to where an hourglass-shaped platform gave us unbridled views of the surrounding waters.


    While the space was vast, elegant, and undoubtedly worthy of becoming an esteemed gathering spot, the space was nearly empty. As vast as it was, only we three foreigners were present. Accompanied by a woman of darkness and a draugr with a cruel weapon impaled into his ribs.


    Then, it was the six of us. Standing before a half-elven man sitting with his back facing us.


    For whatever reason, I felt a cold shudder run through my spine after seeing him. Immobilizing me for a terrible instant while the undead gestured to the three seats arranged on the far side of a small table. While I was sure they felt it as well, Olga wound up being the first to break through it and take a seat. She stormed before him, not out of anger, but with purpose, and sat before Amun as his teacher. Not as a mere mortal.


    ¡°What is all this?¡± She curtly asked.


    ¡°Noctis Reach.¡± Amun bluntly answered. ¡°The current habitat for the Legions.¡±


    ¡°Your guild?¡± Olga asked. Though it wasn¡¯t a question in the slightest. ¡°It won¡¯t be considered legitimate until you possess a divine tree and wise rock pebble, and then evolve your subordinates.¡±


    ¡°I am aware.¡± Amun calmly smiled. ¡°However, recent events made this a necessity.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re... preparing for war?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m being proactive,¡± Amun told her. ¡°When pride and arrogance are slapped in the face, they evolve into prejudice vindication. As I''m sure you''re aware, Dende Morningstar will never forget our encounter. All he needs is an excuse, and he''ll have one eventually. It''s a matter of when, not if, and I''m not arrogant enough to believe I can protect everyone I care about when that time comes. I can only teach them what I know and give them the tools to protect themselves from anyone who would do harm unto them. Even Dende.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s what this is for?¡± Olga asserted once again with a gesture around us.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Amun nodded. ¡°Everyone here is a founding member of my guild. After we graduate, they¡¯ll begin forming parties that will later become the Legion¡¯s first subguilds. And while they work, their friends or families will live in peace within their territories.¡± Amun gestured to the tower below us. ¡°Under my protection.


    ¡°Naturally, that extends to Doyle, should he accept my offer.¡± Amun turned his grin to me before looking at my peers. ¡°That extends to the two of you as well, should you be interested.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± Olga quickly spat, surprising Amun quite a bit. ¡°I don¡¯t want to fight anymore. I''m retiring.¡±


    ¡°Well, congratulations.¡± Amun chuckled, bowing in his seat. ¡°That said, there are more ways to serve than fighting. But I understand. In that case, you could live as you please in one of our territories.¡±


    ¡°You mean¡­ the rooms within this place?¡± Zeff asked with an incredulous chortle. ¡°And how do you plan to acquire this land?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll let you in on a little secret.¡± Amun grimly chuckled, leaning forward. ¡°The headmaster found a way to cheat death.¡±


    ¡°Oh... OH!¡± Zeff began cackling with maddened sarcasm. ¡°That explains so much!¡±


    ¡°Right... anyway.¡± Amun lowered his brow and turned away after a short pause. ¡°He has been cursed more times than I care to count, but the rules of death won¡¯t allow me to just let him off the hook. Of course, I could just kill him. But there¡¯s no fun in that, so.¡± He amiably shrugged, sending a cold flash over my mind at once. To destroy the headmaster meant to destroy the Bodhi Tree itself. But if there was anything eerier than his joking attitude towards such catastrophic levels of death and destruction, it was what he said next.


    ¡°As such, I plan on cutting a deal with him. I won''t kill or curse him.¡± He grinned at me, then Zeff. ¡°In exchange, and in addition to some other things, he will be granting me some land not limited to.¡± He gestured below once more. ¡°Some land.


    ¡°Now,¡± he continued after a short pause. ¡°As I¡¯ve said, you have an invitation to join the Legions. But so too do you have an invitation to live freely within my empire as civilians. Only the former has to swear themselves in. The only rules concerning the latter is that slavery is outlawed, and one is prohibited from taking another¡¯s freedom without a just cause.¡±


    Olga said nothing after that. She only nodded her head ever so subtly and stared off into nowhere for a long minute. Only to snap her eyes back to Amun and say. ¡°Good to know. I¡¯ll stop by the next time I¡¯m free. I¡¯d like to see you all train.¡± And with that, she turned away to leave. Giving me leeway to spring forward.


    ¡°If I may,¡± I said perhaps a bit too loudly and gave Zeff a curious glance before continuing. ¡°I¡¯d like to explore this tower throughout the night.¡±


    ¡°Fine by me.¡± Amun carelessly shrugged. ¡°Tomorrow¡¯s a training day, so you two can stay as well.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± Zeff meekly chortled. ¡°I¡¯ll stick around for a bit and get a lay of the land with Mr. Wolfgang. But-.¡±


    ¡°O- oh!¡± I stammered in place. ¡°I was going to sit up here for a while. Tie up a few things before I take to exploring.¡±


    "Right." With a final shrug and a dismissive nod, Amun and his undead disappeared into the shade of a nearby pillar. Leaving the three of us alone once again, if only for a few moments.


    Once Olga and Zeff descended to the lower floors, I found one of the many seats and withdrew a sheet of parchment, an ink well, and a quill. Then looked to the distant moon, now no bigger than the nail of my thumb.


    It wasn¡¯t long now. Soon, I would be free.

 199 - Weak Won

    Olga Godzuik.


    ***


    ¡°So, it¡¯s like this every day?¡±


    ¡°Every night!¡± Ritrix corrected Zeff with a wagging finger and a charming smile. She¡¯s been like a repository of honest information. Something I was immensely grateful for. And something that caused further bemusement with each passing minute.


    Ritrix Mildbluff told us of the training they went through by openly joking about being stabbed and beaten bloody at the start of every other morning. She laughed at running herself to exhaustion and sleeping as much as she could in the hours after, then teased and toyed with us about the topics of the many courses and studies Amun put them through. It was a bit much. So much so, that it made Zeff more than a bit concerned for the girl, but I knew it was part of her act. Comedy.


    Comedy turned dark by the darkest devil to exist.


    When her jokes ran dry, though, we were reunited with Doyle and treated to a dinner that was exquisitely delicious, though I dared not ask who made it or where it came from. Ritrix¡¯s teasing questions only exacerbated such feelings, but her lengthy demonstrations of the various brass and stringed instruments of Amun¡¯s creation served as quite the distraction.


    Eventually, though, I couldn¡¯t help but ask. ¡°Where is everyone?¡±


    ¡°The club.¡± Ritrix cheekily retorted.


    ¡°Is this not the club?¡± Zeff looked at the plush area around us and laughed before I could.


    ¡°They''re in the fight club, Miss Godzuik.¡±


    ¡°The what?¡± The two battle mages perked up from their seats at once. ¡°Can you show us?¡±


    ¡°Sure!¡± Ritrix beamed and went on to double over at the waist. ¡°Hey!¡± She called to the floor. ¡°Can you give them a lift?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah. I heard ¡®em,¡± came her voice, but from the floor. And then came her umbral clone coalescing from a pool at her feet that remained even after the doppelganger was summoned.


    With naught another word, the Ritrix clone opened a window of darkness with a sweep of her hand before shoving us through, inviting a pervasively cold wave to sweep over me before everything seemed to twist, become inverted, and suddenly right itself. Dismissing the cold and returning the warmth of a vast dome to my senses. One of featureless stone rather than the plush sofas of the¡­ other club.


    As with every room in this place, I came to learn, a mote of moonlight illuminated the space from above. This one was tinted a vibrant red that seemed to stir unwanted feelings into my emotional cauldron. Even then, however, there was the same golden radiance lining the walls of the empty compound. Providing a strange image to the eyes, even with the daylight streaming inside through those strange holes in the walls and ceilings.


    Besides us, the only objects of note within the space- a room as high and wide as every other oversized structure within the tower- were tunnels of curiously smooth stone sitting adjacent to the foyer. We, however, had already stepped inside and took a look around, seeing alcoves and nooks and niches set into the walls. It was then I realized the general layout of the area and sought to enter the staging or common area or whatever it was at the center of those chambers; then I heard a thump.


    Like a drum against my back, it startled my heart still. And not just me. A dense something banged against the stone behind us, halting the three of us in place.


    Slowly. Cautiously. We turned to see a rotten man covered in tattered armor. Pulled tight against his yellowed bones was a leathery skin patched in blues and yellows from sole to scalp, peeling his lips into an eternally open sneer of otherworldly malice. Like glacial winds, his ragged groans rolled over me. Forcing me to stand and stare in horror at the abyssal fire burning in his eyes.


    It was a Draugr. Amun¡¯s Draugr. Zaraxus.


    And he was stomping right towards us.


    ¡°Out of the ring, unless you want to fight!¡±


    For once, there was no reluctance in me following the nasal voice of the strifling. Instead, there was an overbearing presence looming over me that forced a skip in my step. It was an object of amusement for them all, I frustratingly learned upon entering a common room that was much taller than it was long or wide. It was tiered like a tower made of blocks that had been inverted to stand on its top to make a five-by-five-meter base floor filled with weapons racks, looked down on by rings of chairs and couches that stretched on and on until the ridiculously high top.


    As we were told, many of the unseen faces from before were gleaming with excitement from those floors and perches above. The Amazonian Warriors were present. As were the Goliaths. Every Marulean was present also. And so too were many Nonusians. There were a few dwarves and even the half-high orc, Elurial. And, of course, Zarzok was here.


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    ¡°Welcome to the Fight Club!¡± He gave us a gracious bow as we entered.


    ¡°The fight club, huh?¡± I chortled. ¡°Is this for training?¡±


    ¡°Purely recreation, I¡¯m afraid.¡± Zarzok huffed apologetically.


    Then Zeff stepped forward. ¡°How does it work?¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Bets can be made, both individually and as a collective. But there are three games. Well.¡± He snorted out a laugh. ¡°The first is an ordinary duel between our peers or our Doppelgangers. As for the other two¡­¡± He trailed off, tapping at his chin until his eyes drifted above. Then he shouted. ¡°Anyone wish to show the newbies how it¡¯s done?¡±


    ¡°Newbies?¡± I recoiled, but then another thunderous boom and a gentle voice pulled my attention to Zarzok¡¯s side.


    ¡°I will.¡±


    The gentleness of such a voice threw me for a loop when my eyes fell upon Ale Nicchi. He was overbearingly large in stature, so much so that I could only help but think there was some giant in his blood whenever I saw him. But deep down I knew he, and his sisters, were of pure Amazonian blood. That much was made apparent by their absurd strength. That, and their rare magic.


    ¡°Black Tide!¡± Ale bellowed as he entered the ring, and the ring seemed to respond with a pool of darkness that appeared on the floor before the Amazonian.


    It took the form of a man, young and covered in scars that glowed a soft blue-green as he reeled back in a silent scream and charged.


    A pulse of mana slapped against my face in the next moment. The sound of cracked stone reverberated throughout the hall and then, Ale was seen before the shadow, recovering from a lariat that severed the undead in two.


    ¡°That was easy.¡± Zeff chuckled, and the irony of his words seemed to fly over Zarzok¡¯s head entirely.


    ¡°The shadows are weak, for now.¡± He shrugged. ¡°The lack of strong things to kill keeps them so. However.¡± He pointed to the ring, where Ale stood with his jade-encrusted guard still raised high.


    Like before, the ground coalesced into a pool of darkness- a pit dissimilar to the reaching tendrils of the severed undead reattaching itself. This pool formed into an older woman. A different woman from the one Amun seemed to keep at his side.


    Though she too was pulverized just as easily, she quickly reformed and was joined by another shadow. And when they died, a third joined them. So on and so on, until dozens were crowded in the chamber, flinging spells and umbral fists with wild abandon until Ale Nicchi succumbed to his wounds.


    He remained on the ground for a while. Cackling madly while his body began to glow in the gentle white pale light of the moon.


    ¡°So it¡¯s a challenge of attrition.¡± Doyle needlessly concluded. ¡°And a damned good one.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go next.¡± Came another voice. Then Teofila dropped down and entered the ring in the same fashion as Ale. But she said nothing. She only drew twin short swords and held her gaze up until Zaraxus dropped from above like before.


    Though I saw it before, it took being within the confines of this chamber to notice the strange weapon impaled in his chest. He didn¡¯t draw it. He only clasped his fist below his rotted gut and lowered his head in the weird form of prayer they all did. Then began stomping his way toward her.


    ¡°We call it the Boss Battle.¡± Zarzok cheekily explained. ¡°Only a few of us can hold up to him. But only because he doesn¡¯t use his war scythe.¡±


    ¡°War¡­ scythe?¡± Zeff incredulously asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s for killing only.¡± Zarzok nodded. ¡°Like my sword. But for stealing life.¡±


    I knew asking was a lost cause. But still, as always, Doyle did.


    Or rather, he started to.


    ¡°While this is fun and all, fighting isn¡¯t really my thing.¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re an alchemist?¡± Zarzok asked in a way that was more an affirmation. So I affirmed. ¡°In that case, you can check out the alchemical labs on the second floor or you can explore the workshops in the basement. That said, the Artificers-to-be may be grumpy about you spoiling their creations. In that case, you can head to the grove up top and see the Druids and Rangers. Here.¡± He flicked his arm upward and, like Ritrix, summoned his Doppelganger. ¡°Kozraz will show you the way.¡±


    ¡°Kozraz?¡± I stammered in disbelief.


    ¡°My name-¡±


    ¡°In reverse.¡± I groaned, doing my best to toss the negative feelings aside. ¡°Thank you for the offer. I¡¯ll go up to the grove if that¡¯s alright.¡±


    ¡°Certainly!¡± They beamed simultaneously. But his doppelganger was the one to move, spawning a cloud of darkness to envelop me in a disorienting sphere until it dissipated to reveal a flowered meadow rimmed by a dense forest suffused in the same gentle, bluish-white light as before.


    There was one here too. A glowing globe of dirt and stone that Amun referred to as¡­ a moon. Whether that was a play on his name or not was still unknown, but it was a fact that everyone and seemingly everything seemed to flock to it.


    The grove, as it was called, was not only populated by the shadow beasts Amun was able to create but an army of silkworms and moths that undoubtedly came from Scarlett. The field of grasses in which I sat was covered in a film of silk that glistened like the ocean in the pale light above. Most of it was being gathered into spools by the undead to no doubt be made into tapestries and clothes for this Legion they all were so proud to be a part of.


    ¡°Hello.¡± Came a soft whisper before a nearly inaudible thump sounded behind me.


    I wheeled around at once and let out a sigh of relief upon seeing the gentle Felipian leaning in close to me. The entity that crept behind her, however, forced the panic within me to rise again.


    ¡°Twig.¡± I giggled nervously and pointed to the shadow panther rubbing against her leg. ¡°I see you¡¯ve made a new friend.¡±


    ¡°Many.¡± She nodded her big head. Then rubbed the head of the panther. ¡°This is Tao. Together, in Twilight, we hunt. We have hunted many things.¡± She crept closer, reached behind her, and held out a surprising item in her hands. ¡°With this.¡±


    In her pawed hands was a fine bow made of two or three bands of pitch-black wood, twisted and bent into a recurve shape before being emblazoned and inlaid with golden streaks and spheres to make the resemblance of a night sky. On the contrary, the string seemed to glow with the divine radiance of the moon itself. If that wasn¡¯t enough, the grip was encapsulated with a knuckle duster while twin blades were affixed to the string grooves for the not-so-rare close-quarters engagements.


    ¡°Amun gifted me this. Jeager Bow is what he calls it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s amazing.¡± I gasped. ¡°But, it won¡¯t count for your grade you know.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡± She quickly nodded. ¡°Amun has given me something to help me in that regard too. Inspiration. I will create something that will let me do something I never could before.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I begrudgingly began to ask.¡± What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Soon.¡± She leaned her bulbous eyes as close as she could to mine. ¡°I will be able to smash things.¡±

 200 - The Flipside

    Ash.


    ***


    ¡°So, what exactly can we do?¡±


    Anger flared up within me at the sound of those words and I could only look at my clone incredulously. But it was still so eerie, looking at a visage so similar to mine, and it was more than just my looks. It was my mannerisms. My way of speaking. My tone. Everything.


    It was all¡­ Ash.


    Which made his question all the more infuriating.


    ¡°You know the answer to that!¡± I wheeled away from him.


    Snickering, he pranced in front of me, halting my progression to nowhere at all. ¡°We can burn everything we want to ash. Or so we thought!¡± He chortled. ¡°So, what else is there?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been a week of this!¡± I groaned, at first. Then wheeled back around to him and the dead human. But neither of them cared about the heat I was putting out. The environment itself was uncaring. A badlands of metallic spires and blackened earth that had been my second home since our training began. As he said, it was glorious.


    Gloriously frustrating.


    ¡°Are you going to help me, or tease me for all hours of the waking day?¡±


    ¡°I am helping you.¡± My clone calmly smiled before he gestured to the dead human, Caleb. ¡°We, are helping you.¡±


    ¡°Are you?¡± I laughed. ¡°Because all we¡¯ve done is sit here and talk.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been thinking too.¡± He calmly quipped. Then pressed on before I could retort. ¡°Thinking paves the way to knowledge. Which then paves the way to power.¡±


    ¡°So then give me a hint.¡± I stepped towards him, arms bared before me with my palms facing the blue above.


    He looked at me for a long moment. And after taking a glance at the dead man, he said. ¡°We could have beaten it, you know.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± My sigh matched the regret, the pain, in his tone. ¡°With the right weapon-¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Ash shook his head, stealing my words. ¡°With your body.¡±


    ¡°Is it customary for Devils to speak in riddles?¡± I clenched my fists tightly on impulse. ¡°Out with it!¡±


    ¡°It is.¡± Ash calmly nodded. ¡°Giving answers freely is not how one learns. You must find the answer yourself.¡±


    ¡°Okay then.¡± I sneered. ¡°What are they?¡±


    Ash smiled as he stepped forward to grab onto my wrists and hold them between our eyes. ¡°Defeating an iron golem requires you to go against your nature.¡± He shook my fists gently.


    ¡°You¡­ want me to fight without fire? That¡¯ll kill me!¡±


    ¡°It will not.¡± Ash smiled wider. ¡°And no, that is not what you must do. You must first become attuned to the other aspect of your nature, and then become like your enemy.¡±


    ¡°And what in the Hells is that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°Would you like a demonstration?¡± He stepped aside with a foul grin, making way for Caleb to stand before me. ¡°He was a pyromancer in life. An arsonist and a murderer, known for a certain technique he favored using.¡±


    Ash- my clone, said something after that. But I was distracted by the dome of fire the dead man- Caleb, formed around us. Not by the size of it though, the cloud of burning air was rather small and unimpressive. Instead, I was entranced by the flame¡¯s dance as it whipped and toiled around and even swirled within his body like a furnace. Realization smacked me at once. But then came his charge.


    His fist, a soft and plushy mass of darkness, impacted my jaw before I could react. While it didn¡¯t hurt, I could feel the intense heat energy contained within. I could sense the flames still dancing within him. Fueling his physicality with the other aspect of his nature, heat.


    Understanding came to smack me in the face just as his fist did. And another squishy fist rocketed into my gut a second later. Then another slapped against my eye. Then another slammed into my ribs. Driving the point home further and further with each passing blow.


    ¡°Alright!¡± I flared my arms wildly. ¡°I get it now!¡±


    ¡°Then do something about it.¡± My clone calmly spat. ¡°Trial by fire. That is how we learn. That is how we train: In the same way in which we fight. So, think, Ash, think. Adapt to the enemy before you or fall by their hand.¡±


    ¡°Agh!¡± I lashed out, sneering. And found the dead man¡¯s hand caught within my burning grasp. ¡°Fine!¡±


    After willing fire into my hand, I concentrated my mental might on looping the flames through my fist, attempting to seal it within but managing nothing more than a flame-wreathed fist that slammed into Caleb¡¯s cheek.


    It deformed on impact despite the lack of power, spilling the ground with blue-green teeth and ¡®blood,¡¯ but he pushed against it. More so, he absorbed both my blow and my flame like the hated golem, then struck back at me.


    ¡°Not quite.¡± My clone grinned from the sidelines.


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    Sneering, I let the heat within me flow, focused my will on doing as Caleb did, and used it to drive my actions forward. But no matter how hard I focused, I couldn¡¯t contain the flames spurring from my body. I couldn¡¯t circulate the flames within me. And I couldn¡¯t stand my snickering clone, heckling me from the sidelines. So instead of circulating my flames, I pulled them towards the source of my will and focused them. Compacted and compressed them into a ball of contained energy held at the center of my forehead until heat and light poured from my body in waves, leaving me with a curiously giddy feeling.


    ¡°Sun Walker.¡± I found myself saying, and more, smiling at the dead man. Caleb.


    Being unable to talk, he only beamed widely and nodded his approval. Proudly showcasing his missing teeth in a way that ceased to wane, even as I darted forward to punch him through the gut.


    ¡°Finally!¡± I cheered, unable to help myself from this giddy feeling spreading through my body.


    But my clone was eager to quip. ¡°Yes! You¡¯ve learned to crawl!¡± He laughed, stealing my mirth with but a few words. ¡°Now, we must learn to run. But this is a trial by fire. So, I ask. Can you fly?¡±


    By the gods... ¡°You know I can!¡±


    His raised brow and cocked smile said all. He knew it, and worse, I knew it. So I begrudgingly birthed torches from my fists to lift myself into the air. But both he and Caleb scratched their chins in disapproval at the sight.


    ¡°Are you serious?¡± I scoffed. ¡°What now?¡±


    Neither of them said anything. Nor did they move. For a few seconds at least. It was Caleb who suddenly crouched forward and birthed his own fire, from under his feet, to propel him towards me in a blinding flash.


    My body shook suddenly. Making everything seem¡­ distant before the world refocused to an ebon pillar set before my eyes. It wasn¡¯t but a moment later when I realized it was Caleb¡¯s knee, rubbery and dimpled, folding into my chin before he continued onward like a human-shaped rocket. Swathing me in the back blast of his torched feet.


    Mimicking Caleb once again came only as an afterthought. I''d recovered, and he was already high above by the time I decided to steal his heat. And my clone, ever knowing, was smirking at me with his brows raised expectantly at the outcome.


    ¡°I cannot lie.¡± I grinned at him. Then turned my eyes to Caleb, flying circles above the both of us. ¡°This is as exciting as it is frustrating!¡±


    With a fiery bellow, I opened a channel from the sun centered in my brow to my feet and rocked up to meet Caleb in earnest. Like infernal predatory birds, we traded blows high in the sky. I gave it my all. But Caleb, even being so weak, was more agile. He was more experienced than me, who struggled to reorient my legs quickly enough to maneuver my body as gracefully as he could. So I adapted once again by creating a belt of fire around my waist and a wreath of flame around my shoulders.


    It gave Caleb a potential heat source, of that, I was aware. But the ability to be pushed in any direction and better, gain more heat to absorb and focus, gave me the edge I needed to overcome Caleb¡¯s incessant skipping about in midair.


    Much to my dismay, though, Caleb didn¡¯t reform after I defeated him. Giving me no choice but to head back to my infuriatingly calm other half. But only after flying around for a bit. Even then, though, I returned to see him grinning wide in satisfaction beside a reformed Caleb and¡­ Amun.


    ¡°Now that you¡¯ve realized the proper technique, we practice until it becomes second nature.¡± My clone said.


    While I paid his words mind, my thoughts and eyes were focused on Amun. My boss, in the flesh. I could tell it was him and not his clone by the strange heat patterns emanating from him. He was cold, like the undead he ruled over, but also not. Like a blank spot against the endless hues of my thermal sense. But still, there was heat within him. A smoldering ember that peered through the veil of darkness that was Amun and... stared at me.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised to find you here,¡± I said after realizing I was staring. But he paid it no mind.


    ¡°Likewise.¡± He instead smirked. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you have an interest in the schools of Wizardry. Or rather, I find it ironic that you look to the schools for insight or inspiration.¡±


    ¡°H-" I caught myself. "What makes you assume that?¡±


    ¡°Because I had the same thought process.¡± He laughed in that strange snorting way of his. ¡°That was until I learned that we can only follow one of the Schools if we choose to be a Wizard. So, I¡¯ve decided to learn what I could from other Wizards and adopt skills from all the schools.¡±


    ¡°So, you¡¯re here to talk me out of becoming one?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± He scoffed. ¡°You can walk any path you wish. I¡¯m here to talk about our Sorcery. We are both in tune with different planes of reality. And.¡± He gestured between us. ¡°We both possess arcana.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever been to the Plane of Fire?¡± He suddenly asked.


    I was taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation, but it wasn¡¯t as if it was something I was unprepared for. ¡°I haven¡¯t.¡± I quickly answered.


    ¡°Really?¡± He recoiled. Just like everyone else.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I sneered. ¡°Is that so surprising? Have you been to the Plane of Shadow? To the Underworld?¡±


    ¡°Many times,¡± he calmly nodded, despite my tone. ¡°To all three questions, yes. In hindsight, however, I was guided into both realms the first time, so I¡¯m unsure how long it would have taken me to find my way on my own.¡±


    I was the one to recoil this time. ¡°Guided? By who?¡±


    ¡°My forefathers.¡± He rapidly blinked. ¡°My father and great grandfather.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah.¡± I sheepishly chuckled after suddenly realizing his blinking was no mere tic. ¡°The Necro King. I''ve never met my father." I sighed. "But I was told he was a genie from the Plane of Fire. By my mother.¡± I added. ¡°She was resistant to fire. Not immune. So she only lasted a few years after I was born. Her body burned slowly over time. Until all that remained of her was¡­ ash.¡±


    ¡°My condolences.¡± He bowed at the neck. A simple gesture, but it carried the weight of a heartfelt response. ¡°If you ever wish to speak with her again, just say the word.¡±


    ¡°She is nothing but ash now.¡± I sneered.


    ¡°Still,¡± he calmly blinked. ¡°I can go to the Underworld and call out for her. If her soul is there, I can give her solace in my domain. And when I learn to create enchantments, I can build a construct that will allow you to speak with her again. Just say the word.¡±


    ¡°I-¡± I tried to swallow through the lump of slag that suddenly formed in my throat. ¡°Well,¡± I eventually sighed after failing and failing again. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the least I can do,¡± he said. ¡°For your service, I¡¯m immensely grateful.¡±


    ¡°The least you can do.¡± I incredulously snorted and took a long look at the curious man or devil or drow or God. Or whatever he was. ¡°I feel as if were are kindred souls, in a way," I suddenly turned, chortling softly. ¡°We are one-of-a-kind individuals, you and I. Wherever we may go, we shall never find another such as we. Well.¡± I sighed. ¡°I might find another Fire Djinni. Or if not, another phenotype of my kind. We aren¡¯t that rare, after all. But you are perhaps the only Drow-Devil in existence. You have a foothold in two cultures. Despite that, you have the resolve to carve your own place in these here realms, rather than find the best one of many to call home.


    ¡°I envy you, Amun. But then again, you are a Divine Soul.¡±


    ¡°You too will carve your own place in these realms, Ash. That is my promise to all of you. That¡¯s what this is for.¡± He gestured to the scorched earth around us. ¡°To give you the tools and the resolve to build that place for yourselves and for others as I have for all of you.¡±


    Besides expressing my gratitude again, I did not how to respond. So I chose to let my mind go blank and allowed the first thought that popped into my head to stream through my mouth unabated., and what came out was rather interesting.


    ¡°Say, tell me about that dark fire of yours.¡±


    "Oh?" He turned a lively grin my way, one accompanied by highly raised brows. "You mean the Flames of Moil?"

 201 - A New Avenue

    Zarzok.


    ***


    ¡°I don¡¯t see the problem. And if you¡¯re me, you shouldn¡¯t see the problem either.¡±


    The burning eyes rolled in frustration before his verbal response came. ¡°I am the hidden you, Zarzok. Your subconscious and your opposite. But I also hold whatever knowledge Amun sends me.¡±


    ¡°Sends you?¡± I intriguingly tapped at my chin.


    ¡°We can commune with his Doppelganger,¡± my clone simply said with a gesture to both himself and the many unseen clones within the tower. "And so, we can commune with him. In a way that''s much more efficient than talking, I might add."


    ¡°If that¡¯s the case, ask him for permission if it hurts you that much!¡± I hopped from my balcony with a laugh. But still, my clone followed. He fell after me, shouting nothing until I raked my claws into the stone to slow my fall.


    ¡°What is your reasoning?¡± He shouted his apparent last words to his doom.


    ¡°I¡¯m undoubtedly an Executioner already.¡± I chortled after coming to a halt on the floating ring at the base of the Tower. ¡°Even then, two weeks of near-constant fighting makes things boring. So, I figure a little cross-training wouldn¡¯t hurt.¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t trained as a Knight.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s never too late to start!¡± I smugly grinned, then brushed past him. I knew he wouldn¡¯t ask Amun and he knew I wouldn¡¯t yield. This was an inner struggle. One of my minds. Fought between curiosity and the irrational fear of losing what was mine already. ¡°Just like everyone else,¡± I said over my shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m certain our newfound loyalties have unlocked some new paths. Ones never-before-seen. That, in no way, will prevent us from claiming a title we already own.¡±


    ¡°If you say so.¡± Came his begrudged reply.


    ¡°Oho, I do.¡± I took a moment to straighten my clothes before pushing the doors to the stables open wide. As the name implied, it was but a portion of the floating ring at the base of the tower filled with empty barns and an oval riding field in which the Paladins trained. All humans, they were. Unsurprisingly, save the lesser vampire, Elijah. ¡°Well.¡± I stopped at the entrance to the field, turning my wide, incredulous eyes over the lot of lazy bums. ¡°This is certainly not what I was expecting.¡±


    ¡°And what were you expecting, Zarzok?¡± The wise but aloof Toril asked. Although he was strong and knowledgeable of many things, Toril always seemed as if his mind was high in the clouds. Something that served as an enigma to me, until I learned he was Amun¡¯s knight.


    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Plate armor. Shouting. Ground-shattering displays of might.¡±


    ¡°Sorry to disappoint.¡± Lucia giggled. She was another strange one. Powerful and possessing interesting magic. And silent until moments such as these made their way around. Like a mocking ghost lingering in the shadows. Or rather, a heckling angel hiding within the clouds.


    ¡°We''re discussing oaths.¡± One of the other humans said. Issac Galliard, his name was. A somewhat brutish man. Of good build and with good magic to boot. But that was all I knew of him. ¡°Or.¡± He sighed. ¡°We were.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t let me distract you!¡± I quickly chortled. ¡°Do, pray tell, about these oaths. Are they to a God? To Amun?¡±


    ¡°To ourselves.¡± Toril quickly corrected. ¡°It is power through conviction.¡±


    ¡°Interesting.¡± I tapped at my chin. ¡°So then, what are your convictions?¡±


    I felt a fire, a sweet, sweet fire bloom from the direction of Issac before he spoke. Like nectar in cloud form, it flowed around my flesh to flow into my fiendish pores. Enriching them with the potency of Pride.


    ¡°I come from a long line of Knights and Paladins.¡± Issac passionately thumped his fist into his chest. ¡°Like my father and his mother before him, my Oath is to the Bulwark!¡±


    ¡°Fascinating.¡± I slowly nodded while my eyes ran over the rest of them. But one by one, they gave helpless shrugs or meek suggestions of their ignorance. ¡°But not what I expected at all.¡±


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    ¡°There is something.¡± Elijah stepped forward to say. ¡°Something that Amun¡­ offered to me. To be a Blackguard.¡±


    ¡°Now that is a surprise.¡± I laughed in disbelief. Both sides of myself did.


    ¡°You know what they are?¡± He asked, and all eyes turned to me.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you don¡¯t.¡± I scoffed. ¡°But yes. They¡¯re often knights turned to the ways of cruelty or paladins who became evil, I assume by breaking their oath. Many of them serve powerful devils as soldiers in the Infernal War; not always, but in most cases. In all cases, however, they are the antithesis of what most people think of paladins. They''re cruel, unholy warriors. Warlocks in the guise of paladins, essentially. And leaders of undead or lesser devils.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Elijah signed in resignation. ¡°I¡¯m unsure if that¡¯s what I want to be. And, though I was given the choice, I don¡¯t want to tell Amun until I know what I want to do.¡±


    Toril laughed at that. ¡°If that''s the case, Amun already knows you don¡¯t want it. He was almost certainly making a suggestion to get you thinking about the possibilities.¡±


    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s true.¡± Elijah slowly nodded. Then nodded faster and faster with the passing seconds. ¡°I mean, he did make me realize I could stay as a Knight rather than be a Paladin.¡±


    ¡°At any rate, you¡¯d make an outstanding Dreadnought,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s a Fighter Class. One you¡¯re certainly strong enough to become. Or, perhaps with your affinity with Twilight, you could become some type of guardian or something? Perhaps some type of¡­ I dunno, wyvern rider?¡±


    Though one suggestion flew over his head, one of them seemed to give him an idea, as his undead eyes brightened with a light that beguiled his nature. It didn¡¯t take much to figure out which was which and I didn¡¯t feel like taking up my time with something as invasive and unproven as that, so I quickly shuffled aside to the stables to look at nothing in particular and say. ¡°I¡¯m curious about your training. All we do as Fighters is, well, fight. While fun, everyone needs a change of pace every now and again.¡±


    ¡°We practice the skills we learned as Knights and new skills as well.¡± The final human stated. I knew not his name, but he was another of the plain-looking Maruleans who joined only because their Prince did. ¡°Archery, riding, fighting. We spend time cultivating our strength and¡­¡± he paused for a deep sigh. ¡°We learn to care for various mounts.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I faced about to splay an open hand towards the stables. Still empty.


    ¡°Mounts that we don¡¯t have, yes.¡± Toril snickered.


    ¡°Not surprised.¡± I laughed. ¡°What beast can keep up with Toril O¡¯Connell?¡±


    ¡°None I¡¯ve met thus far.¡± He snorted. Curiously enough, however, there was no fire- no pride in his words. He was just like his master in that regard.


    ¡°But there will be one eventually.¡±


    ¡°And yet another surprise!¡± I turned towards the devil himself to see him smirking at me.


    ¡°I could say the same. I¡¯m doing my rounds. What of you?¡±


    ¡°Cross-training!¡± I smugly grinned.


    ¡°Huh.¡± He slowly nodded after glancing at my clone. ¡°Didn¡¯t take you for the type.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m full of surprises!¡± I giggled. ¡°As are you, I presume. I¡¯m curious to know of your recent exploits.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Lana and a few others are still in the Darkworld, hunting for dark metals. Other undead are still building factories and machines underground. As for me.¡± He shrugged again. ¡°I¡¯ve been splitting my time between meditating, brewing potions, and making things.


    ¡°Most recently, however, I killed these.¡± He suddenly, and rather nastily grinned before releasing a cloud of darkness into the air with a sweep of his hand. And from it appeared several creatures in a heaping pile. Some were sliced neatly or brutishly clubbed while others were mere husks of their former selves, shriveled and sunken as if they''d been dried out.


    ¡°Report.¡±


    If it was Amun to mutter that word, his voice was unrecognizable to my ears. Grainy, guttural, grotesque, and followed by a million whispers that trickled down to the corpses. Flowed around them to pool at the ground below them. Darkening their shadows into hauntingly dark pits or portals that allowed claw and hoof alike to breach the Material Plane and pull down the flesh that once was.


    When the silent chaos was over, the blood and gore were gone. Arranged neatly before us were upwards of sixty undying beasts of shadow. There were several giant and regular blade-horned stags, all types of Aves, giant lizard things, and of course, horses; along with many more, all made of the same strange shadow flesh as our companions, but with bits and bridles and saddles of varying grays and that alluring vibrant tone of Amun¡¯s arcana.


    ¡°Fascinating!" I gasped in amazement at the seamlessness of the process. "But still, I never imagined them to be so weak.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Amun dejectedly sighed. ¡°I assume they¡¯ll grow stronger by killing things. But to be honest, I have no idea about the specifics of how they work. My great-grandfather¡¯s supposed to teach me sometime soon, but.¡± He flicked his gaze to Toril and snorted. ¡°Let¡¯s just say the Necro King is better at some things than he is at others.¡±


    ¡°Soon?¡± I and several others shook our heads rapidly.


    ¡°Apparently, he teaches the summoning course during the second year.¡± Amun shrugged his hands with the same incredulous tone. Then reached his hand up to scratch at his hairless chin. ¡°That said, I am overdue for communion.¡± He muttered before snapping his gaze back to me. ¡°I¡¯ll let you know after I speak to Granny Raven. For now, I have an appointment, so¡­ see you.¡±


    A hiss of air and a cloud of dark wisps signaled Amun¡¯s disappearance. Leaving the lot of us standing amongst our undead animals, staring at the space Amun had just been occupying with guffawed expressions. Except for a few of us, of course. Namely, Toril and Lucia, perusing the ranks of undead animals. And me, giggling softly at the absurd cuteness of a name like Granny Raven.

 202 - Patronized

    Hogaz.


    ***


    ¡°Ugh.¡± I turned my gaze upward to the next set of vines and felt only despair. A kilometers tall tower with no stairs rising from the ground floor.


    Only a sadist would think of such a thing.


    Half-orc or not, I was fucking sore from this endless training, and healing multiple times a day was even more exhausting. Climbing bloody vines to reach the upper floors was the last thing I wanted to do. But¡­ one more floor. All I needed to traverse was one more floor, and I would have it at last.


    While¡­ myself, told me to come here, I would¡¯ve gone regardless, considering I had nowhere else to go. Everyone had a place. Besides the Sorcerers and Warlocks of course. But even then, the only other Sorcerer in the tower found somewhere to go. The library, where the highly overlooked school of wizardry stood.


    I knew not of what Amun knew of the schools and nor did I care. I was a half-blue-orc. The only things I could manipulate were seaweed and the mana within or just around me along with a twinge of the elements. Magic was far too out of reach for one such as I. Or so I thought.


    That realization took some time, however. A few days. Days spent in a place the light of the sun had never seen. I was sent deep below ground. Further, even, than the lake bed, where mostly zombies or skeletons and a few shadows worked tirelessly on a subterranean city that contained only warehouses and factories.


    It was an¡­ enlightening experience, seeing firsthand that Amun¡¯s words were no mere boast. His knowledge of that technology stuff was as vast as the cavern I explored throughout those days. Arrays of smelters as tall as cathedrals refined oils into a dozen different chemicals or smelted all types of ore into countless tons of beams, plates, pipes, or other things that went into more complex pieces of machinery. Other materials went into lathes and mills to make components for more sophisticated machines. Sophisticated like strange green boards riddled with archaic lines and dots of what appeared to be silver. And wires. So many wires.


    Even with my limited knowledge, I could tell this was just the beginning of what Amun had planned. Like a shipbuilder purchasing a yard and hiring a crew, the undead-and by extension Amun- were creating things in an increasingly sophisticated order. It was fascinating, but not my interest.


    Thankfully, it didn¡¯t take long for Amun to schedule an appointment with me. A tenday and a half. A seemingly long time made short by our extensive training, yet simultaneously made longer by the times of respite offered to me by that dark mechanical world.


    I pulled myself onto the observation deck with a triumphant howl and immediately hushed myself to scan the environment. Thankfully, none was close to hear my foolery. Or so I thought. I rounded the contoured wall of the moon church and found Amun sitting patiently before two plates of steaming food.


    ¡°I never liked the idea of eating snails. But.¡± Amun paused just as I began to sit, causing me to freeze in place and watch him loudly slurp the contents of a shell clean. ¡°It¡¯s surprisingly good.¡±


    I again felt embarrassed as I fully sat. And more, nervous about what was to come. Not because I was afraid of Amun. I was his subordinate now, and even if I wasn¡¯t, I would have done my damnedest to stay on his good side. On the contrary, I was nervous because he was unpredictable. His boundless knowledge made guessing his thoughts, and thus the outcome of this meeting an impossibility. And his unyielding calm only exacerbated my inner turmoil.


    ¡°Eat, Hogaz.¡± He suddenly said. ¡°It¡¯ll help you relax.¡±


    ¡°R- right,¡± I muttered and let my eyes fall to my plate. Surprisingly, it was a bit of orc cuisine. Some mixed nuts, cheese, and hard-boiled bird eggs with smoked and salted meat.


    Turning my eyes to his plate made me assume he was eating drow food. Everything was either black or purple, including the cheese, but only the skin. Besides that and the snails, there were mushrooms of some sort filled with what appeared to be fish roe. But everything on his plate smelled like poison.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t seen it yet,¡± he abruptly spoke again. Then paused to force down a bit of food. ¡°We¡¯re restricted to campus and the wilds, so we can¡¯t enter the Darkworld. But there¡¯s a loophole in every rule. Our clones can enter the Darkworld.¡± He paused again to drink what appeared to be wine. But again, all I smelled was¡­ poison. ¡°My undead can. They¡¯ve been hunting for mithral and adamantine. Naturally, they¡¯ve been foraging and fighting wherever they go as well.


    ¡°Cheese from a Rothay and eggs from a Fisher Crab.¡± He pointed to the mentioned items on his plate. ¡°A Darkworld aurochs, basically; and a beast that is neither a fisher- the mammal- nor a crab.¡±


    ¡°What is it then?¡± I asked after inhaling a portion of my meal.


    ¡°A crass mix between a scorpion and a spider that likes to fish. No pun intended.¡± He all but chuckled. ¡°It perches high in the caverns and drops its web, hoping for something to brush against it so it can be reeled up and tickled with pincers and barbs.¡±


    ¡°The Darkworld sounds like a terrifying place.¡± I shuddered.


    ¡°It can be... maddening.¡± He distantly nodded, wolfed down the rest of his meal, then pushed his plate off the table. Right into a pool of darkness. When I turned back to him, he was leaning his eyes disturbingly close to mine with a knowing smile spread across his face. "But that¡¯s what you¡¯re here for, right?¡± The smile widened.


    Although it was a question, I thought, he sat sideways in his chair to light one of his cigars and stare distantly off into the horizon. Seemingly giving me the piece to eat, but the silence was not something that I could bear.


    ¡°So, Moonlight and Twilight.¡± I pointed to the churches. ¡°The general impression is that they represent good and evil. Is that... true?¡±


    ¡°Within myself, perhaps.¡± Amun casually shrugged. ¡°But nothing is that simple. While they¡¯re advertised as helping and killing people respectively, both sides are just as capable of performing miracles or committing atrocities as the other. That is true for everyone and everything. Especially for those who live by such extremes.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I chewed. ¡°You¡¯ve said so before. Is it something you¡¯ve seen in your¡­ past life?¡±


    ¡°I have seen people vaporize the blood of countless innocents in the name of righteous justice, yes. Not even ashes remained of them,¡± he said, his eyes still locked on the distant horizon. ¡°Conversely, I¡¯ve seen people labeled as evil terrorists save a country full of strangers as a result of their malice. Countless individuals were freed because they believed what they were doing to be right. Or, they believed what someone else was doing was wrong.


    ¡°I would advise against being close-minded in that regard.¡± He took a glance in my direction. ¡°You, Hogaz, can think of Moonlight as something that affects one¡¯s mentality or spirituality, while Twilight affects one''s physicality. Or, in a rawer context.¡± Amun shrugged. ¡°It is to operate in the open versus whilst concealed. But it is much more than mere words can explain. I implore you to get a feel for each room and inquire for yourself.


    ¡°But first.¡± He turned in his seat to face me fully. ¡°I need you to be straight with me.¡±


    ¡°Be¡­ straight?¡±


    ¡°Brutally honest.¡± He blinked. ¡°And I¡¯ll be the same with you.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± I slowly nodded. ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll start by saying I¡¯m reluctant to do this.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± I recoiled almost out of my seat.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never done this before.¡± He amiably shrugged. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m not one hundred percent sure it¡¯ll even work. Ninety-nine percent and change, but I¡¯d prefer not to experiment on my subordinates. That said, if this is what you truly want, I¡¯ll oblige.¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± I found myself rocking forward in my chair. And subsequently shuffling back upon making that realization.


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    ¡°I don¡¯t care why you want power,¡± he said, much to my relief. ¡°However, I do care to ensure you understand the weight of inquiring about the eldritch.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡± I heavily breathed, hard enough to force me to bite at the words. ¡°I¡¯m a capable fighter. Capable enough to bring me here. But I am weak in the face of everyone else. I don¡¯t have enough to let me survive out there.¡± I jerked my neck to where he was just staring. ¡°I learned that lesson years ago. And I am not in any station to spend years devoting myself to training or studying.¡±


    ¡°You want power handed to you, but you don¡¯t want to be corrupted, as you said,¡± Amun stated in an eerily matter-of-fact tone while his lips curled into a fiendishly manipulative smile. ¡°In exchange for what, however? Going places, doing things, learning things that others are unwilling or unallowed to delve into? Search- no." He wagged his finger. "Hunt for the forbidden secrets and lost places of the realms? Because that¡¯s what I would ask of you as my Warlock. And such things may corrupt you, Hogaz.


    ¡°But.¡± He looked away, still smiling as he tapped his chin. ¡°What does corruption entail, exactly? What does being a warlock entail?¡±


    ¡°Making a pact with a powerful, otherworldly being,¡± I answered. ¡°As I understand, you fit that category. One with Arcana, who was born with ties to the Shadow Realm and the Underworld, as you said.¡±


    ¡°True.¡± He nodded. ¡°But in another way as well.¡±


    ¡°Your past life?¡± I guessed.


    ¡°Both accurately and inaccurately so.¡± He chortled. ¡°I am the man the moon orbits. And soon, I''ll be the man inside the moon. The God who weaves the worlds above. But for now, there is but one world. Mani. My moon, and thus myself." He palmed his chest. "But there will be many others, orbiting high above the mortal plane. Above every realm. Watching all that exists under their light.


    ¡°You have made your pledge to the Legion already, Hogaz. So this deal cannot revolve around your loyalty to me. As such, I suggest it revolve around Mani, the first moon, as its¡­ Seeker. An investigator. Not quite a warlock, instead, one whose spirit has been given a shard of Mani, on the charge that he seeks what is seen from my silver eye in the sky. One who sails the seas of the worlds, be they solid, liquid, or gas.¡± His fiendish smile widened. And though I knew his words held more meaning than I could have hoped to ascertain, I couldn¡¯t help but get excited.


    ¡°However, your livelihood is not enough to exchange for Mani¡¯s light.¡± Amun continued with the dead seriousness of his draugr. He looked deep into my eyes- into my soul, to speak his grim words in the sonorous voice of an angel. ¡°Being a Seeker of Mani demands your mind, body, spirit, and soul in both life and death. So, I¡¯ll ask you this one time and one time only, Hogaz.


    ¡°How willing are you to descend into madness?¡±


    Those eight words carried the weight of eight thousand frigates. A burden of immeasurable weight that I had no choice but to accept. I was weak. Worse, I was a weak dreamer. An ambitious soul with naught the power to realize those ambitions. I was destined to live a meek life in the shadow of greatness. I was determined. More than anything else, I was determined to change that destiny. So... ¡°If that is what it takes. I accept.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± Amun took a deep breath, releasing a wave of his absurd mana to slap at my face. But it was¡­ gentle. Soft and cool like the ocean breeze. It radiated from his entire being, especially his eyes, squinting as if he were deep in thought. Then he held out his hand. Or rather, he held out a crystalline shard of silver-blue energy suspended above his palm.


    I looked at it in confusion for a long moment. Or bewilderment, rather. Or something, there was something about the pale radiance that left me in a trance for seconds. Minutes. Hours. I knew not how much time passed before I noticed my hand reaching out, grasping tightly around the object.


    A sudden wave of contradicting sensations flowed into me at once. I felt a biting, pervasive cold tamed by a searing, unyielding heat more than anything. But also an intense rage mixed with an almost intoxicating euphoria. I felt melancholia and serenity. Inspiration and discouragement. All flowing through the depths of my being like the concentrated venom of a wyvern to form a¡­ vacuole within my spirit. A small cave or housing that held the pale light flowing into me.


    ¡°Ah!¡± Amun recoiled suddenly, though he didn¡¯t release his grip from my wrist. ¡°Hold on. I think¡­ I think it¡¯s working! Huh?" He laughed to himself. ¡°Interesting.¡±


    ¡°You think it¡¯s working?¡± I dejectedly parroted his words.


    ¡°Yeah, I can¡­ ingrain knowledge and power into you.¡± He squinted and flicked his eyes about as if he were reading something. ¡°I think I just gave you¡­ no way. Lunacy? But it- you¡¯re¡­ well, you¡¯ll see.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, I¡¯ll see?¡±


    ¡°Look at your hand.¡±


    ¡°Wha-¡± I dropped my eyes and froze upon seeing what appeared to be a tattoo on the back of both my hands and, I soon learned, on my palms. ¡°What in the Hells?¡± They were like tattoos, but noticeably not. Or if so, done with off-white and abyssal-black inks that left glowing rings filled with mind-bending darkness.


    ¡°Go inside and attune with the moon.¡± Amun jerked his neck to the wall behind him. ¡°And welcome to the club.¡±


    I rose without a word. And, though I fully intended to do as I was told, I could help but approach the Twilight church and enter it first.


    It was a domed room lined with the golden radiance of twilight and filled with a cloud of smokey darkness that seemed to hug the floor, nearly concealing everything but the central pedestal and a glowing orb directly above it. The ambiance felt¡­ peaceful, strangely enough. And relaxing. So soothing, as if I needed a soft couch under my ass and a deep mug of ale in my hand. And it made me think. Mostly about things I¡¯d rather not think about, so I turned tail and waltzed through the other door without a look back.


    The church of the World Weaver was a domed room as well. But unlike the previous room, this one was open and dimly lit in that gentle light I unknowingly came to love. The ceiling was speckled in hundreds of motes of light that appeared like a sea of stars and instead of pews, the floor was lined with plush pillows from the door to the far wall. There was no podium or beacon of light within the walls. At first glance at least. A glowing ring of pale light, in the same shape as the ones on my hands, hung high in the southern portion of the ceiling. Suspended in the same position and represented in the same image as the true moon, so high above and so far away.


    So gentle it was. Inviting. Peaceful and calm. Mystical and powerful. With every essence of my being, I longed to touch it. And though my hands were still meters away from the light, I did just that.


    My consciousness expanded outwards immediately. Beyond the tower. Past the Bodhi Tree, I went. And further. Across the peninsula and high above the World Sea until I was floating high above the Mortal Plane, witness to its entirety.


    And then my essence bloomed.


    In a seamless eternity, my mind stretched to encompass the infinite void beyond. I went beyond the veil of darkness that our small realms inhabited, perhaps out of this universe entirely, to see stars converging like people to form cities of brilliant light. A vast network encompassing the entire universe, I saw. But I also saw the things that couldn¡¯t be seen by the likes of mortals. Tiny and infinitesimal, those things were, and so too was I in that moment. So small, those things were, that those things could never hope to touch, yet they still did by the hands of a primordial- nay, an innate force of the cosmos itself. They held and merged to create and form what we saw around us. And I saw it all. Down to the finest detail. The sea of atoms and molecules, rippling and shaking from the sounds of all things. From the wind. From the creatures unseen throughout heaven and earth.


    It was a mesh of floating motes until, suddenly, it wasn¡¯t. All that remained was a realm so expansive that I was but an island in an omnidirectional expanse of nothingness. There was nothing, in all but a few places. Worlds. Stars. Realms. Moons. Planets, I learned that word from¡­ somewhere. A word that described strange worlds. Realms with unique laws of nature, where anything could be possible. Worlds that existed far beyond the veil. Worlds filled with secrets. Horrors. Horrors and secrets like the ones held in the Mortal Plane. And in¡­ Meighen.


    First would come one. Then would come the other, I saw. The secrets in both. I saw.


    I saw things unseen by the eyes of man or orc or anything other than the inexistent eyes of Mani and the all-seeing eyes of the man inside it. I saw the convergence of radiation, blended into a single wavelength made into an inconceivable kaleidoscope of brilliance. I heard the frequency of all sounds, alive and deceased. I smelled every pheromone, scent, or odor wading in the airs of the future, past, and present. I felt every variation of energy that made its way to senses that never before existed in my body, small and infinitesimal and grandiose and infinite though I was.


    A mind-numbing wave of vertigo signaled the end of that instantaneous and everlasting experience. My expansive self collapsed- imploded into the tiny and insignificant form of Hogaz, standing in awe at the ring of light before him.


    The expanse and the senses and the things that swarmed through my mind were no more. I was but Hogaz once again. A poor half-orc who was now painfully aware of the limitation of his perceptions.


    I saw it all. I was it. The fabric and structure of the universe. It all made so much sense as that colossally tiny being. But as Hogaz, I couldn¡¯t come to understand it.


    One more glimpse.


    I needed one more glimpse of the truth. One more look at the sea of molecules and the hundreds of sensations meeting those senses I longed to have again. I needed to see and smell and feel it all. Only then would I truly understand the reality I was a part of. But alas, I had nothing but the jumbled thoughts in my mind and the cold burn in my hands. The thoughts that labored my body. And the senses that pulled on my conscious mind. It was exhausting.


    It was¡­ maddening.


    But still, I felt soothed from the pale light splayed over my face. I felt it. Watching over me and¡­ telling me things. But not by sound, by visions. Illusions. Memories. Dreams.


    I could do things now, I suddenly realized. I was gifted mana, not magic, I realized. And that realization led me out the door at a full sprint to search the deck for a target that I somehow knew was there. A bird, sitting out on the edge. I stopped the moment my eyes fell upon it. And carefully, reached out my palm to recall the strange memories supplanted in my mind. And without warning, I screamed. ¡°ELDRITCH MOON BLAST!¡±


    It was... eerie, to see the mental picture of my hand glowing as it did in reality. Glowing white from the ring dominating the back of my hand, filling the void within with a searing point of pale white light until it burst from my palm in the form of a crackling bolt of radiance.


    The bird was gone by the time I recovered from the recoil. Though that was hardly an afterthought. I could only focus on the other memories, constantly streaming in and out of my mind. All but telling me to pluck one of the feathers and dive off the tower, for there were more things that I could do. The feather would let me do but one of them. Materials were needed if I wanted to do the others. But¡­


    ¡°Where in the Hells would a newt be?¡±

 203 - Reinvigoration

    Mary Farmer.


    ***


    ¡°The dream starts today.¡±


    I heard Mary as a hardly distinguishable bright flash signaled our arrival at our second home, but I also didn¡¯t. My eyes were high in the clouds and my mind was entirely absent. ¡°The moon is beautiful tonight.¡± I gasped.


    ¡°As always.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but smile as a gentle tug on my sleeve came after the words. And I couldn¡¯t help but keep watching as we walked and talked. But it wasn¡¯t rude. Mary was speaking of things I already knew. Of the project. The dream. Specifically about the progress made in my absence. Marie, my Doppelganger, and I were dissimilar in just as many ways as we were similar. She loved talking about the details. I loved looking at them.


    It didn¡¯t take long, her talk or the walk. Though the talk was shorter. Allowing for a precarious sight to behold my eyes upon my arrival.


    The site was recommended either by Amun or Marie. Or both, but most likely the former when the ridiculous vastness of the plot was considered. It was a circular space, five hundred meters to a side on a depressingly empty slope that hugged the fence between steppes and badlands. It was hot, dry, and worst of all, lifeless. Except for a rather small brook sitting a few hundred meters away, feeding the sparse grasses and weeds as best it could.


    It was a small creek with a steady trickle that made the only water feature for almost fifty kilometers. But it would become much more once we were finished.


    We decided on a design after not so much deliberation. A grove, 348 meters in diameter, cordoned off from the dreary surroundings by seven cascading ponds and an eighth moat placed before the gate, 180 meters across each. Straddled by 18-meter bridges of twined roots, the water bodies mimicked the phases of the moon, as Amun called it. The new moon, the time when the rock was found in the southern sky and thus rendered nearly invisible, was represented by none other than the moat.


    Crescent-shaped ponds straddled it on either side, those two with a patch of reeds or sand beaches around the ¡®shadowed¡¯ parts of the moon to distinguish the pond¡¯s outline. They would undoubtedly become hot spots for crabs, birds, and waterfowl. As would the ponds that followed, I was sure.


    The first and third quarters, half-spheres of water and weed, sat before the waxing and waning gibbous before the final pond, perfectly round and shockingly deep. However, that in itself posed a problem.


    ¡°Aeration and oxygenation.¡± Mary clone said as if that would explain everything. ¡°Both the surface and the water¡¯s deep must be disturbed. Agitated. So that dead zones don¡¯t pool in the bottom. On the surface, that will be done by the waterfalls. But the bottom often requires enchantments or machinery.¡±


    ¡°Why not use blowers?¡± I shrugged. Then threw my chin towards the clay my undead companion was steadily conjuring and compacting into the pond basins. ¡°Or water manipulation?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what we¡¯ll do.¡± She grinned. ¡°But we also need to ensure oxygen-producing plants find their way into the ponds as well. Non-invasive plants.¡±


    ¡°Non-invasive?¡± I recoiled immediately.


    ¡°Plants originally from this region. Invasive plants have no creatures to eat or out-compete them. They will reproduce and quickly spread throughout the grove.¡± She nodded. ¡°Preventing any other plants from taking root.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I nodded, a little ashamed of my sudden offense. ¡°Yeah. That would be bad.¡±


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ¡°We¡¯ll look for such plants while the ponds fill.¡± She beckoned me to follow her with a smile. And I did. Both smile and follow her across the vast and dead grove to hop across the deep chasm of the northern lake, where my undead companion was finalizing his concealment of a stone overflow pipe into the wall of the pond. ¡°For now¡­¡± She trailed off as she turned to look back on the cascading ponds, empty though they were.


    The pipe and canal were indeed his last digging jobs for the project. In a mere three weeks, he and Mary not only dug out the ponds and drainage systems but leveled out the grounds the ponds encircled to create a terraced grove of five tiers. Such progress in such a short time astounded me. It reminded me time and time again of the capabilities of the undead. And, truthfully, it made me a bit ashamed that I couldn¡¯t keep up. Which, in a way, drove me to do more.


    ¡°We build.¡±


    I snapped my eyes back to Mary and suddenly realized she¡¯d never finished her sentence. Until now at least. My eyes dropped from hers to first scan the marked area of sticks and rope behind us before they went back to the barren lands before us. Looking at it, seeing it for what it would become, forced an excited grin across my face. A grin that I turned onto Mary without delay. ¡°Let¡¯s get started!¡±


    The first, and perhaps only structure we would be constructing was my hut, but it was not the only project. It was a shelter more than anything. A two-room abode filled only with the essentials. It, naturally, was rather easy as a result.


    Bales of hay from the farms around the tower were given to Marie and kept in storage until now. They were pulled and stacked like bricks, then held in place with fire-treated wooden posts that were hammered through to the ground. By far the hardest part of the build, especially with only four hands. But by lunch, a steady trickle of water added to the ambiance and my undead companion was gingerly stomping sand, clay, and water into a heaping pile of cod alongside us.


    Layer by layer, we packed the bale walls until they were covered by half a meter of cod. Save a palm-sized square hole that was framed by wood before we set the beams in place and began roofing.


    Despite me being in the tower just a few days before and despite the panoramic windows remaining unsealed or the door not yet existing, it was nice to sleep under a roof again; open though it was. It had windows mirroring the walls below. In full view of the stars and crescent moon, I must have laid for hours. Lost in the wonder and aggravated to the core by the squelching sounds of plaster being smothered onto cod walls.


    Eventually, it became too much and I couldn¡¯t help but stir from my mat to join in on the work. At least until I grew too tired to continue.


    I awoke to a door set in the frame and shutters being applied to windows before a reaching hand pulled me to my feet. ¡°Look!¡± Marie whispered excitedly as she pointed across the way toward something that I considered to be spectacular.


    After nearly a day of filling up, the new moon ring was nearly full. Still, there were several centimeters left for the water to climb, but it was high enough for those near the edge to reach down for a sip.


    They were birds, of course. The first and often most able creatures to spot a body of water from afar.


    ¡°Let¡¯s not disturb them,¡± Marie said, tossing out a few sacks that I recognized at once. ¡°What do you want to do first? The perimeter?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s save that for last. We want our friends to know this place is here before that.¡±


    ¡°So be it.¡± She shrugged and picked up a sack tied with a pink ribbon. ¡°The forest then?¡±


    I replied by snatching the bag from her hand and taking off around the inner circumference of the ponds. In turn, she trailed after me, leaving wooden rods and beams pulled from the darkness as she went; and our undead trailed behind her, setting them into the ground to create posts and suspended railings for the grapes and tomatoes and other reaching plants I was sowing ahead of them.


    Around and around the center of the would-be-grove, we planted crops of an ever-increasing variety until we approached the middle, where we switched to saplings and young fruit trees that formed toroidal copse around a central grassy plain. The obvious place for my shelter, it would seem. But the clearing would one day serve as the home for the essence of my grove. A divine tree. My divine tree. Surrounded by my food forest and eight beautiful water features that reflected the beauty of the Moon. The way it was all interconnected, in both present and future, was just¡­ magical.


    A magical dream.


    But one day, it would become a magical reality. And, it would be private. Closed off to the vast majority by spells, animals, and thickets alike.


    Speaking of which¡­ ¡°I wonder if any of Amun¡¯s shadow creatures would like it here?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Mary casually shrugged, though her excitement was evident. ¡°A few of the future Rangers treat some of them like Familiars already. So¡­¡± She shrugged again. ¡°Which one¡¯s your favorite?¡±


    ¡°Skoll and Hati, obviously.¡± I sighed out a raspberry. ¡°But they¡¯re always with Amun. Pora Bora too. So¡­¡± I tapped at my lips. ¡°Invite whoever wants to come, I guess?¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡±

 204 - Post-Mortem

    ¡°So, Phelia. Right?¡±


    I turned to the human to study her for the¡­ I knew not the number.


    Over the last four tendays, I watched her. Here, in the shockingly bright but cold halls of the morgue. It was just me and her, always. Performing live autopsy after autopsy on those who had long been dead.


    She was frail like most humans, and more, short and lithe. Hers was a regally gaunt face of sun-kissed skin and eyes like Mournlode that burned with an innocence that belied her position.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I nodded, despite her being fully aware of my name. So strange, humans were.


    ¡°Where are you from?¡± She asked, then quickly recanted by shrugging. A crude gesture while her hands were plunged deep into her partner¡¯s ribs. ¡°I mean, Vagua is a big place.¡±


    ¡®Big.¡¯ I chuckled to myself and did the same with my partner- shrugged with my hands plunged deep into his innards. For the last month and tenday, I¡¯ve been doing the same to the cold flesh of these otherworldly beings to try and piece together the cause of their second ¡®demise.¡¯ It was¡­ unsettling at first. But after the first few exercises, I realized how invaluable the knowledge was. So strange, creatures were. Both inside and out.


    ¡°I am from the Metallic Metropolis,¡± I explained, and knew she would keep prying, so I chose to explain further. ¡°I am what you would call a cousin to Zarzok if I understand human relations correctly. Because of our natures, he was always ambitious. I was not. He wanted what many in the city wanted. To rise in station above, and power in the Hells below. But, he didn¡¯t want to join any of the twelve demon families. He wanted to make his own and usurp the throne from one of the existing families. So he came here to grow in knowledge and strength.¡±


    ¡°And you followed him,¡± she both asked and said.


    ¡°I came to the Bodhi Tree because I thought he needed someone to heal him.¡± I corrected. ¡°That was until I realized he didn¡¯t. After that, I didn¡¯t know what to do. I had no dreams of returning home; at least not yet. Nor did I wish to continue following Zarzok wherever he went. I was confused,¡± I said. ¡°And then Amun made his offer. Shortly after, I saw he was a much better teacher than our instructors. And he¡¯s a much more capable leader than anyone I¡¯ve met thus far. I have the greatest chance of finding my purpose here. But.¡± I turned to face her innocent eyes. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you joined, Scarlett Bombyx. A noble who, if I understand correctly, was born a Druid. Yet, you joined a Devil¡¯s Legions? Will you fight for him?¡±


    ¡°I fight for nature.¡± She cheekily smirked. Then scoffed in apparent disbelief. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m surprised you hold on to such ways of thinking, Phelia. What when you¡¯re aspiring to be a Witch. As it is in Witchcraft, Druidic Spheres are the opposite of common stereotypes. Nature is a cruel mother.¡±


    ¡°As cruel as those who dwell in Paradise?¡± I found myself asking and quickly regretted it. So volatile people could be. But Scarlett paid it no mind. However, it was more than just that. Indeed, Scarlett Bombyx of the noble druidic spheres agreed with me.


    ¡°Few things are, I¡¯m afraid,¡± she said, melancholia deep in her voice. ¡°A baboon will often steal a lion¡¯s cub and torture it. Which seems cruel, until you see a lioness playfully rip a troop apart and leave it for the vultures. Bears often maul people to death, but only because their cubs are threatened or their territories are encroached. Animals are cruel because that¡¯s what nature demands for their survival.


    ¡°But people.¡± She looked at me almost apologetically. ¡°Sentient creatures. Everything from goblins to dragons often behaves the way nature intended. But they also kill each other over differences in appearance or behavior, gold, or whatever else they can think of. Or, as Amun says, because of the Abstract and the Absolute.¡± She finished with a tap of her ectoplasm-covered finger against her temple, which both did and did not explain anything.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    The Abstract, according to Amun, was the things that existed only in the minds of sentient individuals. Things like wealth, social status, borders, laws, governments; even good and evil. Things that were made real, only because the collective decided they were. But if at any time the collective decided against such things, they would come crumbling down faster than they could have hoped to build them in the first place. That was how fickle such things were.


    As for the Absolute, it was somewhat self-explanatory. Those who held on to the extremes of good and evil or order and chaos were far more dangerous than any creature nature- or any of the Planes- could conjure. Those were the ones who committed atrocities and saw themselves as benevolent for it; all because they were thrown so deep into their beliefs that it became impossible to think otherwise.


    ¡°Sentients kill each other for survival, sure.¡± Scarlett continued after the seconds of introspection. ¡°But more often do we kill each other because we believe in the wrong gods or in no gods at all. Or one set of rules or beliefs or lifestyles over the other. So quickly do we turn to hate. Each other. Ourselves, even. How shamelessly do we use anything to justify our cruelty. And worse, believe ourselves to be at the center of the realms. Above all in both morals and might.¡±


    ¡°You speak as if you despise sentients- yourself.¡± I chided.


    ¡°I am a sentient, yes.¡± She nodded. ¡°But I was raised as a Druid. And so a Druid I am, Phelia.¡± She looked deeply into my eyes, telling me far more than words ever could. ¡°Honestly, this is the first time I¡¯ve been around so many people. Around so many different species. It¡¯s so exciting!¡± She nearly jumped in place, only to regress to the brink of melancholia a moment later. ¡°But, I also see what my family told me about civilization. It makes sentient minds abandon nature, both in the realms and in themselves.¡±


    ¡°I suppose we are the same, in that regard.¡± I soft-heartedly laughed. ¡°I met some people with ties to Paradise back home and thus heard stories. It is no exaggeration when they say it is beautiful but the denizens are not. Fiendish but not, they say. Still, though, I¡¯m surprised. I imagined you eager to return to your home after your time here.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± She shrugged, her wrists still neck-deep in ectoplasm. ¡°My family never told me they wanted me to return. Or that they wanted me to do anything really.¡± She shrugged again. ¡°And¡­ well, I like Amun. Drow and Devils were more myth than anything else to me, but he still goes against the stereotypes of his labels. I mean, now we know why.¡± She meekly chuckled. ¡°But even before then, I knew I could trust him. So, when he asked.¡±


    ¡°It was only natural to say yes.¡± I nodded. ¡°I see. However, I can safely say that, while I¡¯ve heard little of drow, I have heard everything about the Nox. I can say Amun is closer to a devil than anything else. That¡¯s hardly a bad thing." I quickly reassured her. "Still, though, I¡¯ve never heard of or seen a devil making deals without writing out a contract. No one has. Ever.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Scarlett quipped after a short pause. ¡°In that way, he¡¯s more like the Archfae.¡±


    ¡°Fae?¡± I asked, hoping to glean more about the eclectic word.


    ¡°Powerful creatures from the Faewoods.¡± She nodded. ¡°It¡¯s where faeries and sprites and hags and most familiars come from. It¡¯s a¡­ strange place. Beautiful. But really dangerous!¡± She suddenly snapped her finger from the undead corpse to point it at me, flicking a bit of ectoplasm onto my blouse in the process. ¡°Like, super dangerous! Creepy dangerous!¡±


    ¡°I can deal with creepy.¡± I huffed.


    ¡°Not scary-creepy,¡± she said, unrelenting in her gaze. ¡°It¡¯s a beautiful place. A very beautiful place. So beautiful that it''s weird. It makes your mind wander, making you lower your guard to the dangerous creatures lurking within. Archfae are the most powerful of them. You have to be extremely careful with your words around them. They¡¯ll take not just your soul and use it as a plaything, they¡¯ll take your body, your name, your sense of self; anything. I was always told to do my best to leave if I ever found myself there.¡±


    ¡°Devils live for souls," I said, more to myself than to her. "It''s how they grow and mature. It increases their station. It makes them smarter and stronger. But they cannot just take them. They have to make deals, and the person who makes the deal has to know exactly what they are getting themselves into. They must abide by the contract or suffer grave consequences. But there are loopholes. And they, like him, are experts in exploiting them. However, as he implied, he plays by different rules than his kin. So." I shifted to face Scarlett. "He¡¯s... like a Fae?¡±


    ¡°Kinda?" She tilted her head. "I mean, he is honest, and Fae are said to never lie. And he makes deals or pacts or whatever using only his words like them. But Fae, particularly Archfae, often trick or deceive mortals with convoluted words. So¡­ both?¡±


    ¡°The Devil of the Fae.¡±


    I found myself shuddering after spouting out the title. It didn¡¯t seem so ridiculous to my ears anymore.

 205 - Inner Beast

    Jaimess A. Corey.


    ***


    ¡°Welcome to the conclave!¡±


    As I¡¯ve done many times over the past decade, I fought against rolling my eyes at the exuberance of my Doppelganger. Here we were, at the base of a forested mountain range in the dead of night. And he was screaming.


    ¡°The hunter or the beast.¡± He pressed on in a devious spectacle of a whisper. ¡°To find the path of the Ranger means to find either of these beings within ourselves. Our¡­¡± he rolled his hand as if to find the word. ¡°Playing with those Tengu pushes us towards the beast- the divine beast- within ourselves. Here.¡± He gestured to the vast expanse a final time. ¡°We shall find it.


    ¡°Alone!¡±


    The final word was like a resounding beat of a war drum, signaling the disappearance of my clone into my shadow and bringing about the peaceful silence of the night. Leaving me, at last, alone or, perhaps accompanied by whatever beast my clone assumed was inside me.


    As Toril, Ed, Lucia, Giorno, and Jonet- oh Jonet- had done, I¡¯ve grown ever closer to my clone since the day he was summoned; although I felt no need to do something as ridiculous as giving him a variation of my name. Regardless, he was me and he was my opposite. Thus he knew the repressed or unacknowledged things locked inside the deeper parts of my mind. He could see the beast within me as clearly as I could see the stone outcroppings peering from the trees above.


    ¡°Are the others aware of this as well?¡± I asked the endless echoes of the night, knowing full well the answer. Duke, Curious Twig, Rebecca Plassein, Zeke Smeal, and Toni Forester; the other rangers were somewhere in the endless reaches of the Bodhi Tree¡¯s territory, in their chosen environments. Be it in the swamps or forests or badlands or the sky itself, they were given the truth from their other selves. And then they were left to fend for themselves.


    ¡°Of course they are.¡± I found myself sneering just as I noticed the ground passing beneath my skipping, paper-wreathed feet. ¡°Trained in the ways since birth, most of them. While I, Jaimess A. Corey, studied to push quills.¡±


    It was not a statement born from resentment. Only a fact. An acknowledgment of the cards we were dealt at birth. Of the ways we were expected to spend our years of living. I, for one, was groomed to work numbers. I wanted to work numbers, law, and order. Until I met the Tengu.


    Naturally, I knew already the answer to my dilemma. To hire someone else or have my Doppelganger run those things in my stead. Aside from that, I could be both a Ranger and the leader of a Noctis Legion. I knew that. What I knew not was how to awaken this supposed beast within me. Or rather, I could not form thoughts as to what it could be. Namely because understanding was often a thoughtless process.


    While my mind had been distracted, my body had been running as if it were a separate entity. Covered from head to toe and backed with wings of paper, I¡¯ve been prancing up the cliffside, searching for a hole or cave to call home. Gripped tightly in my right hand was my favored mace while one of the many leafed short-swords made by the artificers sat in my right. A new addition to my skill set since I began my tenure at the Bodhi Tree, dual-wielding.


    Though my sixth sense wasn¡¯t as nearly as strong as it was that day, my other senses were heightened to the extreme. Through the mana fueling my nose and ears, I felt as if I had the smelling and hearing prowess of Skoll or Hati. Through my brimming eyes, I had the sight of Pora Bora. Bringing the clarity of this foreign environment into sight no matter where I looked.


    Despite our travels across Epethia and my time here, these lands- woodlands- were an enigma to me still. The greens and browns of the forest canopy and floor held so much variation of contrast when compared to the grays and whites of Odissi. The snow-capped tundra was like the Underworld itself in the face of the million sounds spreading from unseen directions. Everywhere, there was life. Overwhelmingly so, at times.


    ¡°Have I made a mistake, choosing this place?¡± I again asked the air as I sat atop a perch before a dim cave near the peak of a great cliff. ¡°Should I not have chosen a tundra or snow-capped peak? Or are all mountain expanses the same to the likes of Tengu?¡±


    I knew not. And that, I disliked more than most things. Not knowing. Losing my sense of self, becoming bestial, or succumbing to the primal urges that dwelled within sentient beings was something I disliked even more. And the fact that it only increased my self-doubt, I disliked that too.


    Growth. That was something I loved, though. So I stepped into the dank cave and immediately felt something amiss. A presence, powerful and primal yet intelligent, watching me from the many corners of the stalagmites and stalactites breaking up the rough stone. Something large. Large and full of malice.


    Sensing its intensity forced my fingers tighter around the hilt of my weapon almost in an attempt to summon the beast within. If it worked or not, I could not say. I could say only that I was reminded of the Tengu once again at that moment. Though they seemed different. Human. Like me in my winged paper form.


    I held onto that image and thus those feelings- feelings of joy and gaiety and the high of my mana senses being overcharged and allowed my instincts to toss my weapons aside. Knowing that the reaching hands of my clone would pull them to safety, I began hopping in place excitedly; for whatever reason, but only twice. Then balanced myself atop a single foot. I placed the sole of the other flat against my knee. My right rose as if I was to scratch my head, only for my fist to be held in place by my ear, palm outward while my free hand was extended. Then my senses bloomed, spreading far beyond this dank cave and the beast within. But I waited.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    A far-too-familiar crackling vibration of the air spurred magic from my body without my conscious action, shrouding me in a veil of black powder before an electric lance harmlessly crossed my chest. Meanwhile, the beast within charged right into my assailant''s open maw while I attempted to study its features. Only a scaled, serpentine thing with many legs made its way into my perception before darkness spread around me. Then came an immense pressure as if the cave itself had collapsed.


    It wasn¡¯t until I heard a distinct cracking that the beast within looked around and saw jagged teeth peering from the dim light of the red-hot stone of the cave wall. I was in the serpent-thing¡¯s maw, I realized, but not before the beast thickened our carbon skin with a layer of obsidian that broke into countless shards on the creature''s grating teeth. I felt my mana trickling from my well as one hand pressed against the roof of the monster¡¯s mouth. Then I felt a wide smile spread across my face as my bones and muscles burned with the gentle prickling feeling of a bolstered body.


    The ribbed fleshy plate before me cracked against my palm a moment later, but the beast within paid it no mind. With a spear of obsidian protruding from my back, holding me in place atop the tongue, my legs spun out in a dance that cracked or shattered the beast¡¯s teeth outright.


    It thrashed about with a pace that quickened with each damaged tooth, squealing so loudly in pain that it forced me to increase the density of my carbon layer lest I be rattled to death. But only after I spawned obsidian daggers to keep myself held affirm to the tongue.


    While it flailed, I clawed forward ever deeper into its maw. And when I heard that distinct crackling, I clawed more manically until the sound of the attack and the dim light of the electrical blast was far behind me.


    There, in that dank cave of acid, flesh, and goo, I focused again on the beast within and on the exchange that had just happened. And soon after, looked down to see an obsidian fan looming from a diamond handle gripped in my hand.


    Seeing it spurred the beast within into a frenzy of spinning and slashing- nay, a playful dance through the length of the dark cave, displacing voluminous pockets of air and slicing through the soft innards of the beast with no regard to its well-being. The beast within was having fun. Thus I was too. We were engrossed in play. Up until the thrashing stopped and I saw light once again.


    I emerged from that dank cave and stepped into another. One filled with as much bloodshed and carnage as there was stone and dust. The creature was perhaps ten meters in length and as big around as a decent shack, a measurement made difficult by its mangled flesh. Nevertheless, the serpentine body was covered in blue scales, which would have given me the initial impression of a dragon, if not for the dozens of clawed feet running along its length like a milipede.


    I watched those very feet be dragged away by none other than my Doppelganger and undead companion, though I paid them no mind. I was somewhat entranced by the duality of mind I was experiencing, wherein confusion and respect for the monster ran through the mind of Jaimess A. Corey while disappointment and boredom ran through the mind of the beast within him.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to add it to the list.¡± I snorted after noticing my clone''s knowing stare. ¡°Whatever it is.¡±


    My clone was uncaring of my rhetoric entirely. He instead tossed a few books my way and I needn¡¯t even glance at them to determine what they were, so I turned my sights on the tenebrous woman brooding alongside him.


    ¡°You stay for a moment,¡± I said to her. ¡°I wish to talk.¡±


    My clone, knowing the intention behind my actions, only stepped towards the shadow. Calling over his shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t take too long. You don¡¯t wanna lose that feeling.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I said, taking both a seat and the books from the ground to flick through the former.


    As expected, the topic was centered around surviving in the environment I chose. How to find resources and use them effectively. How and where to build shelters. The types of creatures that called this place home, most importantly. That was the topic of the first book at least. The second was about an art called Bushcraft. Making tools or structures or otherwise surviving off of the bounty of the forest using axes, saws, knives, and hands. Surviving using natural resources. Ranging with little danger, essentially. A useful set of skills, I was sure it would come to be just that. Though many of the structures called for a not-insignificant amount of labor and wood.


    While I had the first in excess, the second was a limited supply. Even in this vast forest, dead trees were a limited resource and the need for firewood was a near-constant. And so too were those structures flammable.


    ¡°Perhaps that¡¯s why you are here with me, to cover the flammability of my paper?¡± I turned back to the woman as I sent a few origami goats to keep watch along the cliff face. She had a doll-like face that painfully reminded me of Jonet. Though her features were the same as any other shadow undead, there were no death marks on her; that I could see at least. Giving the undead woman an eerie sense of innocence.


    "It is." She curtly signed in the hand code of the House of Cole. A wordless tongue that rippled in darkness, giving even the mouthless a voice of endless whispers.


    ¡°You remind me of Jonet, you know?¡± I said back. ¡°Are you a part of her family?¡±


    "No idea who that is." Came her uncaring signal.


    ¡°Alright then.¡± I sighed. ¡°Tell me of your sentence. Why were you to be executed?¡±


    ¡°Piracy.¡±


    ¡°You were a pirate?¡± I scoffed. ¡°That warrants execution?¡±


    ¡°It does when you sink a ship ferrying some Phaegrathean VIPs.¡±


    ¡°And even in undeath, you show little remorse.¡± I rolled my eyes and began to wave her off. But she surprised me with what rippled through the darkness.


    ¡°Execution was the price of my crimes. A price I''ve long since paid for. In undeath, I¡¯ve been blessed with a second chance to do more right than I have wrong in life.¡±


    ¡°You want to do right by Amun.¡± I chortled. But not because my words were rhetorical. Far from it. It was because despite her being undead, despite her connection with Amun, she seemed to have no clue as to his true nature. As did most of the Legions. ¡°Closer to a villain than he is a hero, our God and Guildmaster. But he is neither. He is simply Amun. A divine being we can''t come close to comprehending. Thus he is beyond such distinctions. We, in turn, are the heroes and villains bound to his soul. Both sides, embodied into many beings, as extensions of our God. To some, our actions will be good. To others, evil. Even his actions will see us as heroes or villains in someone¡¯s story.


    ¡°Doing right and wrong are matters of personal perspective. But being good or evil isn''t such a thing for you, or even Amun to decide. Such things are to be decided by the realms. So, let us make a bet on what the realms will think of us at the end of this journey.


    "Will we be heroes? Or villains?"

 206 - Graced Rage

    Elurial.


    ***


    Wrestling myself over the edge of the observation deck brought me slap into view of the only other half-orc here. He was standing out on the edge with his head slumped down to the ground, so far below.


    ¡°You¡¯re not gonna jump, are you?¡± I weakly chuckled from afar to both announce my arrival and lessen the situation, whatever that situation may have been.


    ¡°Oh, hey, Elurial.¡± Hogaz turned not even a tenth my way. And said nothing more.


    For whatever reason, I slowly approached to sit on the ledge by his feet. It wasn¡¯t as if I was close to him. But we were both of the same blood. And in my eyes, that meant something. ¡°Are... are you alright?¡± I looked up to him for once. ¡°You¡¯ve been¡­ moody lately.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah?¡± He lazily shook his head and yawned hard enough to rock back on his heels. ¡°It¡¯s just been hard to sleep. You know?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± I laughed. ¡°I¡¯ve been sleeping like the dead since I came here.¡±


    ¡°Funny.¡± He chuckled weakly as he began to sit, bringing me to notice the nearly glowing white rings on his hand.


    ¡°We¡¯re getting tattoos now?¡± I pointed to it.


    ¡°Oh, yeah.¡± He blinked at them with the first sight of warmth that I¡¯d seen in weeks. ¡°I¡¯ve been marked.¡±


    ¡°Like Bazzric?¡± I rhetorically asked, then thought back to the times I saw the chained infernal blades wielded by the dwarf. ¡°Are you gonna make a weapon appear from thin air as well?¡± I teased.


    ¡°I don¡¯t... think so?¡± His face wrinkled in abject confusion before he suddenly stretched his hand out before him. And from the silver ring on his hand came a crackling light of the same color that erupted from his palm as a beam.


    ¡°I can do that.¡± He nonchalantly retracted his arm. ¡°And a couple more things.¡±


    ¡°Hogaz, that¡¯s amazing!¡± I nearly jumped from the ledge. ¡°Amun gave you this power?¡±


    ¡°We came to an agreement.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But... I¡¯m not exactly a Warlock. I mean, I am. But, this core for... Eldritch Lunacy means I also have... sorcery?¡±


    ¡®But at what cost?¡¯ I thought, too afraid to ask and too pained to see him like this. So I rose to my feet and gave him a brisk pat on the shoulder. ¡°Can¡¯t wait to see what you can do. And try to get some sleep. Yeah?¡±


    "Yeah." He muttered his thanks as I walked off with his words to Amun replaying in my mind. He mentioned he wanted to cheat his way to strength without being corrupted. But, as I knew all too well, such things never existed. Even when the long path was taken, corruption was a great risk.


    ¡°Are you done stalling?¡±


    I rolled my eyes at my Doppelganger as a response, taking emphasis so that she¡¯d take the hint. I was stubborn after all. And so too was she. It¡¯s been two months since we began our training at the tower and she''s pestered me the entire time about receiving the Grace of Twilight. It was something I saw all around me, every day. The mass of darkness that surrounded the others before they were silhouetted against a golden light. A light that either healed them or transported them across vast distances. It was fascinating. Awe-inspiring, even. But so strange and so unknown that I couldn¡¯t help but be wary. But like everyone else, I assumed, I eventually succumbed to my clone¡¯s pestering and, after many distractions, found myself standing before the church in question.


    The walls seemed to be perfectly spherical. As were the walls of the church facing it. Both with great doors of black or white-painted wood emblazoned with the symbols of their- or perhaps our God. Stepping inside the church of Twilight brought me into a spherical chamber filled with an almost gaseous fog of darkness that hugged the ground up to my waist. Many ribbed things peered from the top of those clouds, running the length of the room up to a round platform of black marble and brass or perhaps even gold.


    Suspended from a chain so dark it was nearly invisible was a meter-and-a-half sphere of what I now understood to be onyx, set before the same brilliant light that I saw emanating from my classmates. Even with the brass or gold chimes, incense burners, and many tapestries, the chandelier dominated the headspace above the dais to an almost unsettling degree. But more unsettling was the hunched figure sitting just below the ringed abyss. Covered almost entirely in gilded black drapes that took up the entirety of the dais, it only sat, murmuring something incoherent to even my ears. And with the pungent incense burning everywhere, I had no hope of sniffing them out.


    ¡°You have come to receive Twilight¡¯s Grace?¡±


    I¡¯ve been around Elijah enough to recognize the voice at once. That said, I¡¯ve rarely if ever spoken to Opal. Much less stood a few meters away from her. So when she stood to her height and revealed her face, I could only accept my reaction for what it was. Lust.


    She arose smiling from under her dark veil, revealing it to be a robe that seemed to shroud most of her body in darkness. Warmly, she smiled, yet her eyes burned with blood like the reflection of a beast in the night. Though not at me. At a pendant or something clasped in her hands.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, throwing my chin to the occluded light above. ¡°What does it do?¡±


    ¡°Twilight is light and darkness in equilibrium,¡± she cryptically explained. ¡°And much more. But at its core, it is just that. Duality.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna become a Cleric, am I?¡± I halfheartedly chuckled. Then muttered. ¡°Or a Warlock?¡±


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    ¡°Not unless you pray as I do. Not unless you make a pact.¡± She shook her head. ¡°But for those who receive Grace, Twilight heals. Twilight teleports. Twilight sees. And more. All by God¡¯s will.¡±


    ¡°You take this church stuff seriously, huh?¡± I leaned my elbow onto the dais and let out a snorting chuckle.


    ¡°Of course.¡± She huffed. ¡°But this is not a church. It¡¯s a temple for a cult. The church is across the way.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± I turned away nodding. ¡°And the difference is¡­?¡±


    ¡°Public approval.¡± She shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ve done some re-branding, us and God. If you¡¯re curious?¡±


    ¡°Wehahaha!¡± I slapped the smoothed stone in earnest. ¡°I am now!¡±


    ¡°Her church is still the same, Zakira''s." Opal needlessly clarified. "The Moon is the first of many worlds Amun, or Mani will have orbit above the Realms of the Mortal Plane. It is special because it is his. Thus it is him. The Order of Worlds worships Amun and thus Mani as the World Weaver. The side of him that spreads knowledge of magic and science and advocates for the freedom of all. The side of him that creates and builds self-sufficient structures like this magnificent tower. The side of him that loves art and architecture and nature. And change.


    ¡°I worship Amun as the God of Devils. The Elven Devil. Amun.¡± She revealed her fangs in a warm smile. ¡°This is the first Twilight Sanctuary. We follow the side of him that enjoys the fight. The side that excels at war and destruction. The side that explores. That reflects and parties as much as he works and learns. The side that curses and makes deals out of both malice and altruism. The selfish side.


    ¡°But again.¡± She chortled. ¡°It¡¯s much more than just that.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± I quickly shook my head. ¡°So what about Twilight and Moonlight? You don¡¯t worship that anymore?¡±


    ¡°We never have," she said gently. ¡°We worship Amun. Twilight and Moonlight are but two of his many abilities- the only abilities we associate with. They represent two of his many aspects. As does this Sanctuary and Zakira¡¯s Church. Two sides of the same being. Mani and Amun. Good and evil, some would say. But¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s much more than that.¡± I slowly nodded, then leaned away uncomfortably. ¡°So, I just touch it?¡±


    ¡°You just touch it.¡± She nodded.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I stepped away and began climbing the stairs around the back.


    A strange absent-minded feeling crept over me the moment my eyes fell on the occluded light. Without even trying, I started thinking of all that brought me here and what was to come. Of the fantastic events of the last several months and of the respite I was soon to face once this year came to an end. In hindsight, it was amazing that we were so lucky. More than that even. It was a blessing. Now, I didn¡¯t care if he truly was divine or not. I cared not for gods. But Amun was intelligent and powerful enough to back up his claim of godhood regardless. Still, to think I would not only meet such a being but grab hold of his extended hand and learn and grow alongside him. It was unthinkable.


    So much about the universe, I¡¯ve learned. And I¡¯ll continue to learn. I would continue to train. And when the day was done, I¡¯d party like it was my last night of living. Just like I¡¯ve done every day for the last two months.


    That warm thought brought a gentle smile to my lips. Then a warmth to my arm as I reached out to the massive onyx orb and the point of light that still seemed to shine from behind it. A thin band of darkness responded to my touch. It reached out and slithered around my arm, disappearing down my sleeve to wrap my body in a warm, inviting embrace. And then, it was gone.


    I turned and looked down towards Opal at once and noticed immediately that everything was... brighter. The smoke hugging the floor was clear, revealing the pews and more, a floor of beautiful mosaic tiles formed into the shape of a gargantuan leafless tree standing before a rising or setting sun.


    ¡°So, that¡¯s it?¡± I flicked my eyes to her, trying to subdue my awe.


    ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± She calmly smiled, then waited for me to step down from the dais. ¡°Would you like to pray?¡± she then asked.


    ¡°Nah. I, uh¡­ gotta get back to the mountain.¡±


    I gave her the best smile I could and stepped out without delay. Scanning the deck brought no signs of Hogaz, though, giving me a thought to jog over to the ledge and peer over just in case. But my clone stopped me in my tracks.


    ¡°Congrats! You can see in magical darkness now.¡±


    ¡°Just like that?¡± I faced about, snorting incredulously.


    ¡°You saw it yourself.¡± She shrugged. And the sting of her truth forced me about once again.


    ¡°Twilight teleports.¡± I closed my eyes and muttered.


    While holding on to the feeling I had within the Sanctuary, I turned my thoughts to my companions scattered throughout the wilds. Particularly, to the one who chose to prowl the same environment as I. After a few seconds or minutes of intense focus, I felt my senses swell to a level far beyond my comprehension. It almost felt as if I were jumping while simultaneously being pushed. I was forced down the dark alcoves on each floor until I skipped through the stone base like a runaway ghost. Then I was far away, darting from the shores and into the dark night until it suddenly stopped.


    The sudden lack of input forced my mind to go blank. I was numb to any notions of thought or movement until the distinct snapping of a twig forced my instincts to move my body for me. I looked out from within a brush to see a pair of hide-covered legs stepping gingerly through the forest. Recognizing them at once, I let out a small rodent''s call and watched them halt their step at once. An identical call came soon after, and I stood to look upon the faces of my fellow Barbarians.


    Like the Rangers, I¡¯ve been told, we were sent into the deep woods on a nomadic journey to learn a set of skills Amun called bushcraft. Aside from that, everything we ate or used was from the creatures we killed and butchered. All while hunting for the coveted Shroom of Fury and fighting the undead at random times of the day and night. The likes of us finding one of the shrooms out here were rare, we all knew. But three out of six of us already knew how to rage and thus didn¡¯t even need it. With our chances of success that much higher, there was nothing to dissuade us from the cause. Besides, out here- so far from the Bodhi Tree, there were plenty of things to kill.


    That wasn¡¯t my intent for this night, though. My purpose lay with the one of us who not only knew how to Rage but was closest to our God as well.


    ¡°Mind if I ask what Amun was like when you were younger?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know him when I was younger.¡± Roheisa¡¯s steel eyes never wavered from the trail ahead as she spoke grimly. Almost as if the words were forced through her teeth. ¡°I met him a month or so before we came here when we took the guild assessment.¡±


    I knew from experience she wasn¡¯t agitated. Not at me or anything else in particular. She was just on the brink of raging. Ready to blow at any moment. Something few Barbarians were capable of doing.


    ¡°I was always told he was a prodigy.¡± She continued. ¡°I saw it was true when I met him. He taught us about our affinities just after we awakened them. But we led starkly different lives.¡±


    ¡°A Grand Princess and a Grand Duke living different lives?¡± I snorted in disbelief.


    But her eyes, burning with a hint of red, turned to me. ¡°Amun''s family was considered royalty before the portals appeared. While I was born a Princess, my Father was not.¡± She coldly said, beguiling her indignantly furrowed brow. ¡°He grew up as a Barbarian in Phaegrath, where he met the Necro King, who was training in the ways of the knight to become a paladin. They roamed the lands together, fighting and teaching each other the ways of their Classes. Ways that were passed on to me. And most likely onto Amun as well.


    ¡°I may have been born a princess atop a castle of iron, but I was raised as a barbarian in the heart of the Iron Volcano like my father.¡± She faced front with that. Leaving me to carry the weight of her words while I lagged behind her. A weight that was lifted when she spoke again. ¡°Tell me, Elurial. Have you ever witnessed a volcano¡¯s rage?¡±


    ¡°Once or twice.¡± I giggled. ¡°But I look forward to the day I see a steel volcano erupt.¡±

 207 - Arms Race

    Matthew Reid.


    ***


    ¡°Alright, word came back. Everyone passed Miss Godzuik¡¯s test. So let¡¯s get this over with and get back to work. Matthew, we¡¯ll start with the clothes first. Seeing as how there are only three items.¡±


    Though I knew getting our minds off of being pulled from our workshops was a ruse, I couldn¡¯t help but laugh at Ed¡¯s remark, for it was true. For three months, we¡¯ve been creating tools and equipment for our future lackeys, and all we came up with for them to wear were three things. One of them was two versions of the same thing. The symbol of the Legionary. A mirror of Amun¡¯s mark, it was. A great, leafless tree of black sitting alone atop a field before a rising or setting sun.


    Or moon.


    The symbols were indeed inlaid, stitched, adorned, or whatever the means called for, with either silver or gold to distinguish which side a Legionary belonged to. Important, but rather unimpressive. Though the others were rather interesting.


    ¡°Name is a placeholder. For now, it¡¯s simply dubbed, The Uniform.¡± I pulled the thick but light fabric from the mannequin and waved it around like a flag. ¡°Standard issue for all members. Made of a bit of that Kevlar and a lot of that carbon nanotube stuff, it¡¯s promised as an undergarment for Legionnaires and thus can be tailored to fit the needs of the individual. Tested to be fire, shock, water, and stabproof as well as corrosive resistant.¡±


    ¡°And comfortable enough to make me toss my drawers aside!¡± Elsgril crudely added.


    ¡°Right.¡± I gagged from the unwarranted mental picture. ¡°Next item. Standard issue, the Noctis Cloak.¡± I pulled an almost identical pair of cloaks from the next set of mannequins. Both were an almost mind-bending black, with beautiful inlaid patterns of woven silver or gold running up the chest piece and smokey frills to, again, distinguish members between the two sides of the Legions. ¡°And that¡¯s it.¡± I shrugged meekly.


    ¡°Keep in mind, these are only prototypes.¡± Ed stepped in saying. ¡°Final approval goes to Giorno Nojo, Amun¡¯s tailor. Even then, they must be redesigned once enchantments come into the picture. So don¡¯t get too attached. Also.¡± He began pacing towards the weapons racks across the room. ¡°It was decided that equipment should be made for individuals by order, according to Class and rank of course. And preferably using the creatures they¡¯ve killed.¡±


    ¡°Right. First, and smallest on the list. Standard issue for Rogues. Or anyone else who wants one. The Talon.¡± Chuckling, I picked up a small curved blade with a ringed handle and looped it around my little finger before slicing away at my undead partner¡¯s throat until he was a gargling mess on the floor. ¡°Discrete. Quick. And deadly. Comes in two variants, serrated or straight-edged. And a larger version that fits around the elbow.


    ¡°Next, an ordinary pair of knuckle dusters.¡± I picked up the thing and again threw some jabs at my undead. ¡°Variants include spiked, forked, and hooked versions for your fighting pleasure. A multitude of blades and blunt weapons follows.¡± I swept my arm down the line. ¡°We¡¯ve made everything from bats and clubs to great swords. Too many to go through, there is, but they¡¯ve all been thoroughly tested and approved.


    ¡°Explosives aside, we have the ranged weapons next!¡± I skipped over to the more excitable parts of the displays to grasp onto a toy-sized crossbow. ¡°We have the Palm Crossbow. So small it can be stuffed in the pocket; keyword, stuffed. And.¡± I pointed to the drum of bolts protruding from the dorsal side. ¡°Like the normal and heavy variants, it repeats!¡±


    The fact that they were already aware of the features did nothing to steal my mirth. It was a fabulous invention. A re-creation really, considering it was of Amun¡¯s design. But that made it no-less fantastic in my eyes.


    ¡°Next, we have the accredited Jaeger Bow. As well as its short and longbow variants.¡± I threw my chin towards the magnificent weapon. Another standard issue, but one of Amun¡¯s creations. ¡°As for tools.¡± I reached for what appeared to be a palm-sized metal box with cracks and fissures seen on all sides of the device. ¡°There¡¯s our beloved multi-tool!¡±


    ¡°I almost don¡¯t want to give it away.¡± Forgruna lamented. ¡°I can only imagine the ways they¡¯ll abuse it.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll get put to good use,¡± Ed reassured her with a helpless shrug, doing nothing to ease her mind. But I believed him. The palm-sized gadgets were shaped like a belt buckle and were indeed designed to be worn atop a Legionaries belt, of course in either gold or silver. Small and unassuming, they were, yet they contained any tool anyone could need in civilization or out in the wilds. Scissors, shears, knives, and saws. Pliers, wire cutters, and files. Awls, rulers, cord-cutters, picks, glass breakers. It had everything.


    And most fascinating of all, it had a carabiner. A simple metal loop that could be drawn out with the extensive lengths of a ¡®paracord¡¯ and attached to objects to safely hoist or lower something or themselves to safety. Paracord, it was yet another fabulous thing Amun casually dropped on us. One of many fabulous things.


    ¡°What about your little slingshot?¡± Els asked.


    ¡°My slingshot is for launching my explosives.¡± I spun around to face the dwarf. ¡°For demolitions only!¡± For those were more fabulous things, given to me personally.


    ¡°Greedy bastard.¡± He waddled off grumbling. ¡°Don¡¯t let Bazzric find out. You¡¯ll never hear the end of it.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s got enough toys to play with.¡± I laughed at his back. ¡°He¡¯s fine.¡±


    Speaking of fabulous things, however, I quickly turned back to Ed. ¡°How are things progressing down below?¡±


    ¡°Steadily.¡± Ed quickly answered with a sigh. ¡°The undead have tapped some oil and gathered it in the complex below the lake. They¡¯re refining it into many things, including the nylon stuff this cord is made from.¡± He waved a bundle of the fabulous cord around and tossed it aside. ¡°I¡¯m told that some of the better tech has been invented by using magic as an aid.¡± He meekly shrugged while pulling out a scroll. ¡°But Amun has given me a road map to our goal. Proto-industrialization is where we began in Hill Base. Wherein a large volume of people creates a wide range of hand-made artisanal goods for export.


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    ¡°What he calls the first industrial revolution followed.¡± Ed continued. ¡°The method is to use steam-powered machines to increase the scale of production by leaps and bounds. Or, in the civilian''s case, to create products in their stead.¡±


    ¡°Heresy.¡± Elsgril and Forgruna both muttered under their breath.


    ¡°That allows more interesting things to be made.¡± Ed glared at him, laughing. ¡°Things like those multi-tools.¡±


    ¡°And those big ass beams,¡± I added. ¡°Have you seen those things get rolled out?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Ed snorted. ¡°Anyway. Standardization was something Amun took care of months back. Examples of that include the rigorous testing of our creations and the safety regulations down below. Quite ironically, though, the mechanical hammers and lathes and electrical systems we''re using now came before both that and the next thing. Currently, we¡¯re in the Machine Age. Down there.¡± Ed pointed to his feet. ¡°The undead are making things like electrical motors, gas turbines, combustion engines, and large-scale power plants. Things that will allow us to create the vehicles and flying ships Amun showed us. So, start making blueprints.¡±


    ¡°What comes after that?¡± I eagerly asked.


    ¡°The Atomic Age.¡± Ed bluntly stated. ¡°Like Amun¡¯s magic. So that¡¯s only a matter of learning how to enchant or finding the proper materials.¡±


    ¡°And the proper materials would be?¡± Els asked.


    ¡°Uranium or plutonium.¡±


    ¡°Ura-what now?¡± Els squinted.


    ¡°Apparently it¡¯s pretty dangerous.¡± Ed shrugged. ¡°After that, though, we learn to make vehicles powered by jets and rockets. Like my magic.¡± He proudly added. ¡°Then comes the era of space exploration.¡±


    ¡°As in the space between us or the realm above the sky?¡± I asked.


    But Ed was quick to tease. ¡°Both.¡± He snickered louder. ¡°But mostly the one above the sky. However, that also includes materials science. Essentially designing and creating new materials.¡±


    ¡°Now that¡¯s interesting,¡± Forgruna smirked.


    ¡°The apple of our eyes comes after that. But that¡¯s not the cream of the crop.¡± Ed winked. ¡°The Digital age will give us those things that can run huge calculations in less than a second, computers. The time after that will be spent teaching everyone how to use this technology and shifting our existing infrastructure over to this digital stuff. Digital Transformation, he calls it. The age of information comes next. And, as far as I understand, there¡¯ll be a ghost hub or a phantom library that we can access from anywhere using tablets or consoles we keep on our person. And some of them will let us¡­ interact with stories.¡±


    ¡°That makes no sense!¡± Els huffed.


    ¡°I guess we¡¯ll have to see it for ourselves.¡± Ed shrugged in a way that implied he didn¡¯t believe it either. Or he simply couldn¡¯t imagine it, like me. ¡°Regardless, the point Amun¡¯s looking forward to the most comes after that. The singularity, he calls it.¡± Ed incredulously chuckled. ¡°There will be machines that can govern themselves. Even think as we do. And move around on legs or move things with arms like us.¡±


    ¡°I heard of something like that before,¡± Els muttered as he tapped away at his chin. ¡°And no golem either. What was the name¡­ outta? Auto...¡±


    He trailed off muttering under his breath after that. Or, he began to. He stopped upon hearing Ed continue, despite the scroll being stowed away. ¡°What he¡¯s most excited for are the implants he says can be placed in our bodies. Limbs, organs, and even eyes can be made of metals and ceramics to replace lost limbs or damaged body parts. And they function better than this flesh does. Forget the multi-tools on our belts. We¡¯ll be able to have them in our fucking fingers! Imagine!¡± he slapped Els on the shoulder. ¡°Having a set of tongs in your hands. Amazing!¡±


    ¡°But.¡± Ed suddenly sighed deeply, shaking his head. ¡°That day won¡¯t be for years to come. Not until we return to Maru, Amun suspects. Aside from that, though, He seemed excited about Lana¡¯s return from the Darkworld. He¡¯s due to speak with her after his communion. So, let¡¯s hope she has some Darkworld metals."


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Let me out!¡±


    ¡°It hasn¡¯t been six months yet.¡±


    ¡°This Twilight has grown to be meddlesome. The domain in which you roam is more to my liking. So, open the gate.¡±


    I peered inward to my domain and saw the same sight as I had over the last few months. A pair of hateful eyes stared at me through a mound of gold. Over time they had gone from red to violet, to the almost star-speckled voids I was currently staring into. Her voice, once a crackling hiss of ire somewhat like Ash''s, was now like the hauntingly soft and regally smooth tone of a maleficent queen. How curious I was, to see her in her entirety. So perhaps that was why I set my sights on the abyss beyond.


    My umbral domain seemed so much emptier now that the Menagerie was out roaming the wilds. Even the newest editions to replace Humphrey and Stewie had transitioned and dipped. Dirk, the blade-horn stag, and Lamp, a moth I ¡®accidentally¡¯ swiped from Scarlett''s millions were out roaming with all the others. Yet some like Skoll and Hati prowled the Wilds for their own ends. I felt bad, leaving them cooped in this domain for years and years. Thus I was reluctant to force them back in once our time here was done. Instead, I would design a home for them. A park or a grove in which for them to run free. Until then, they would continue as they were.


    That left a void filled only with the material. Tons and tons of materials and the desiccated or dismembered remains of the victims felled by me or my undead. A void of material I was reluctant to hand over to a greedy dragon. But if I wanted her to become the Exalted Gloom I knew her to be, I had no choice but to let her out. After relocating my food.


    She swam through the gate the moment it was unlocked. Took off racing, it seemed, taking her gold with her to find the end of the endless domain. But still, I called after her. ¡°Don¡¯t touch my shit!¡±


    Only the silence howled back in response, leaving me nowhere to go but down. Past my necrotic gates and into my other domain, I drifted down until I came to a gentle rest atop my throne and waited for the ancestor closest to my conscious stream of thought to materialize before me.


    It didn¡¯t take long for him to appear with his neck craned to his zenith. Wherein they remained, planted upward until he felt whatever it was he was feeling for. And then came his maniacal croak of laughter. ¡°You didn¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°I did.¡± I calmly nodded.


    ¡°How?!¡± He dropped his gaze to me, shaking his arms pleadingly.


    ¡°She was a venerable red Wyrmling.¡± I shrugged. ¡°The same age as me, believe it or not. She had yet to find a lair and was still in her mother¡¯s territory, so I appealed to her interests, stroked her ego, and we struck a bargain.¡±


    ¡°I assume you¡¯re talking about that draconic presence above?¡±


    I didn¡¯t even need to look up to see the spindly hand of Corvus Cole resting atop my throne, her head craned upwards like Azrael''s. ¡°I am.¡± I nodded once more.


    ¡°Is there anything you won''t, or can¡¯t do?¡± Telman appeared next, sending wicked echoes of laughter rolling through my domain. "First a unicorn as your undead. Now a deal to make a dragon of darkness."


    ¡°Won¡¯t? Yes. Can¡¯t? Well...¡± I snorted. ¡°We¡¯ll find out eventually.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re still gonna find my crawler, right?¡± Henry suddenly appeared in mid-step to my throne.


    ¡°Most certainly.¡± I chuckled. ¡°Now, is there anything else you want me to do?¡±


    ¡°Not anymore!¡± Azrael croaked again. ¡°I knew you could do it!¡±


    ¡°None.¡± Telman calmly shook his head.


    ¡°Besides find the Crypt?¡± Corvus shrugged and let the shrug hang for a long pause. ¡°I want to know what awaits you from here?¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± I leaned into my throne. ¡°I have three months until the ritual. In the meantime, I¡¯ll keep training my officers and making things. And, I¡¯m about to send out a hunting party.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Telman suddenly stepped in with raised brows. ¡°What are you hunting?¡±


    ¡°I was hunting mithral and adamantine.¡±


    ¡°Was?¡± Henry snorted. ¡°Finding those should be easy for you. Just go deeper into the dark.¡±


    ¡°Should be, but surprisingly it wasn¡¯t. Even with my Doppelganger.¡± I sighed.


    ¡°Then what changed?¡± Corvus asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ve recently come to learn that my undead has killed some dark dwarves.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Corvus wickedly snickered. ¡°That should make it easy indeed! The fools love to build their strongholds right where they find their metals.¡±


    "Yes." I snickered in turn. "Exactly."

 208 - Night Raid

    Amun.


    ***


    Perhaps too much praise was given to me by Corvus after I gave her an extensive recap of my meeting with Dende and the days that followed. She was bursting at the incorporeal seams with joy. And burst entirely once I told her of my plans for Zorrenor.


    Quite amusingly, her mirth was replaced with sheer interest once I summarized the training of my officers, and then curiosity once I told her of my simultaneous progression and plateau regarding Ki. By meditating on the brink of death daily, I could now begin to sense the necrotic Ki far easier. Even while in my healthy state, albeit with an intense meditative focus. Still, however, I struggled with grasping the energy. Much less circulating it through my body. While frustrating, it wasn¡¯t all for naught, as it allowed me to grow more attuned to the energy, enabling me to distinguish the dark amoebas from the seafoam-green sea as living creatures. I saw the lingering echoes of the departed as a hellish inferno that surrounded all. And within that bright mire of death, life was a gelid wind.


    With that recap came promises of another communion come my evolution. And so I emerged from my domains to find myself in the dark caverns of the chemical plant. Standing before a tunnel that seemed to stretch on for infinity.


    Despite there only being a platoon of shadows, zombies, and skeletons traversing the realm, they¡¯ve made significant progress scouring it. Not on the front of mithral or adamantine of course, but the fronts of gems, other metals, and a mountain of monster corpses. Naturally, however, most of those monsters were inedible or unpalatable for the vast majority of the Legion. And I knew not how to work the scales, limbs, and other components without wasting materials. But that fact did not affect my mirth, as the second aspect of the hunt had been fulfilled.


    For whatever reason, my grimoire didn¡¯t notify me of my confirmed hypothesis until after she returned from her months of hunting. And, for whatever reason, neither she nor my clone felt the need to tell me through our link.


    As I suspected- Corvus refused to tell me- my shadows grew stronger by killing and thus stealing life energy from others. In that way, they used the essence of another to mature or evolve as undead shadows. That said, I didn¡¯t need the abyssal book to tell me of her growth; for the most part at least. She was more¡­ solid than she was before. With fewer strands of umbral smoke trailing from her body. Though still, my grimoire revealed all.


    Or, it would have. If I could have read it first.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been dying to say this. My name wasn¡¯t Lana in life, My Liege. But I adore it nonetheless.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± I snorted in pleasant surprise. ¡°You can finally talk! Let¡¯s just hope you aren¡¯t annoying.¡±


    ¡°I hope not to be.¡± She bowed, then stayed silent to give me a moment to read.


    [Lana. 3/20: Shadow Undead Child.]


    [Shadow Undead Children have evolved to such a point that they are capable of speech. Though they are still half as strong as they were in life if measured mathematically. As children, they are now mature to a point where they can no longer evolve by killing non-sapient creatures. The threshold to teenhood is fifty living creatures of a sapient species.]


    ¡°Interesting.¡± I nodded to myself before summoning her companions. And, as I somewhat suspected, they were all a rank below Lana. Still, however, I was able to read the contents of the first rank, now revealed in my abyssal book of magic.


    Essentially, Infant Shadows, or freshly raised ones, were a full order of magnitude weaker than they were in life while Shadow Toddlers were a quarter as weak. Only fifty kills were needed for an Infant to grow. But a full five hundred were needed for a Shadow to grow into a Child, and ten of those kills had to be sapient.


    ¡®Time to make some farms, I suppose.¡¯ I mused before turning to her. ¡°So, what happened?¡±


    ¡°Thought they could sneak up and attack us,¡± she proudly smirked.


    ¡®More like you encroached on their territories.¡¯ I thought. Though she heard that just as loudly as she heard me say. ¡°The bodies.¡±


    Grinning smugly with no regard for my deductions, she reached into the nearby shadows to 14 throw corpses onto the ground one by one. They were all short and stout. With grisled bald heads of gray to charcoal skin, patched with either snow-white or amber, almost fiery red beards.


    ¡°I let two of ¡®em run back to their stronghold or whatever.¡± Lana casually explained before I could ask. ¡°Send a message and all that.¡±


    ¡°Good. They¡¯ll most likely seek to retaliate, even if they know what they¡¯re up against. The majority of dark dwarves are stubborn in that way.¡± I grinned at the corpses. Then snapped my eyes back to her. ¡°If their king is no different, give the slaves their freedom, kill their masters, and take everything they own. Spare nothing.¡±


    Lana nodded immediately. But then cocked her head and smirked at me curiously. ¡°And if the king is different?¡±


    ¡°Then release the slaves and steal everything they own. Spare nothing.¡± I smirked back. Then turned my sights to the corpses littered before me.


    ¡°Report.¡±


    Fourteen pits of darkness swelled like an abyssal maw at the sound of command, sprouting umbral hands and boots and mouths that clawed and stomped and bit their way into the material world in a muted frenzy. When all was said and done, fourteen dark-dwarven men and women were standing before me with their fat fists clasped over their barrel bellies. Their ebon skin was no more. Replaced by a loose hide of darkness that trailed abyssal smoke into the walls behind them. And their hair, once white or burning like the magma within their homes, now glowed with the seafoam green of my arcana.


    More so, their thoughts, emotions, and, most importantly, their memories came flowing into my mind. Memories that they sent my way after being raised and thus learning of my desires.


    ¡°Oh, wow!¡± I both grinned with glee and chuckled in disbelief. And so too did Lana and my other shadows. ¡°They¡¯re just begging to get raided.¡± I laughed. ¡°And, there¡¯s enough of them to give all of you promotions.


    ¡°Let¡¯s issue the recall.¡±


    ***


    Numa.


    ***


    While Amun was confined to the Bodhi Tree¡¯s grounds, I- the Doppelganger- was not.


    For whatever reason, we thought of ourselves as the same person for just over a decade, though we lived entirely different lives. While he roamed the Material Plane, I followed from the sliver between realms, watching both the world of light and the Plane of Shadow pass by like the forest through a car window. And yet simultaneously, I was below. In the Pocket of Shade that preceded our domain in the Under. There, I was with the abundance of material that had been accumulated from the outside. There, I was accompanied by the Menagerie as I bided my time rolling up tobacco or burnbud. And occasionally- daily, I was summoned to the world of light to fight against my Doppelganger. The version of me from the world of light. Amun.


    It wasn¡¯t until the undead and I carved our tunnel to the Darkworld that we became aware. Or rather, that we remembered. Our Grandpa Lich introduced us to the realm on more than one occasion during our studies. So, shame on us for forgetting. That said, it was so far away, the Darkworld, so far back in our minds that we couldn¡¯t help but forget about it. Somehow, we couldn¡¯t help but forget that down there, the strange, aberrant radiation that was corruptive to all else was enriching to us. It enhanced our Sorcery in ways like the Shadow Realm. But starkly different. In the Shadow Realm, the ambient energy amplifies our actions. On the contrary, our actions saw the Darkworld itself react. Almost like our bodies have¡­ evolved.


    I was in the Darkworld when Lana killed her quarry. Not with her, but on the precipice of the realm, where the industry was thriving but not thriving enough. Not counting Simion and I, there were around sixty-eight zombies or skeletons and five shadows scattered throughout the place. A laughably small crew for a monstrously sized job.


    Now, they were down one. For I was here, some 12,000 kilometers below ground and thousands more away from the tower, below the mountain range that slumbered Cononthoth¡¯s mother but still beneath the ridiculously vast expanse of the Bodhi Tree¡¯s territory. Here, leaning against the bend of a cave, I was in the company of not only Zaraxus and his twenty underlings but Lana and the other 64 shadow undead. Scouted by the fourteen newest additions.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Not only did the dark dwarves lead us here, but they gave us an accurate mental map of the interior and an accurate reading of their numbers. The place was an arrow-shaped cavern that wasn''t even ten kilometers on the longest side, inclined to about forty degrees. A magma aqueduct ran across the length of it near the ceiling, below which sat a squat dais that housed the foundries, forges, and casting stations of the Darkworld mining town. A ring of towers and residential buildings encircled it. Allowing for but a few gates for the slaves to travel through from their pens overlooking the tunnels and mining holes on the far side. The entrance, just around the bend, was the only point of escape for the dark dwarf king at the opposite end of the cavern. My destination.


    While I was sure there were a few exceptions, dark dwarves weren¡¯t known for being open to negotiations or bargains. They were a kill-on-sight type of people, as the Darkworld demanded of them. Hostile to anyone intruding upon their territory. That said, I was certain that I, a Drow and a Shadow Necromancer, would be accepted. Welcomed whole-heartedly by the wide faces and warm points of their hammers and spears. They hated Drow above all other creatures. And there were nearly six thousand of them inside, ready to band together at the first sight of one. But that wasn¡¯t the problem. They were going to die either way. Thus it was indeed favorable. The problem was their slaves.


    There were over 900 goblins inside. Plus another 751 dwarves, almost 500 orcs, and another 450 or so deep gnomes in addition to the 374 humans. Considering they were potential followers for me and my allies, they were just as valuable to me as the metals and dead dark dwarves. But if there was anything I knew about them, and I knew more than most, it was that they would send their slaves out to fight first. Assuming, of course, we advanced from the front.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said, normally, though it traveled no further than the pit of darkness behind me. ¡°Priority goes to the shadows. I want all of you to be at least children by the time we¡¯re done. Zaraxus¡¯ platoon is to cover the slaves from above while the shadows bring them to safety from below. I don¡¯t want any of them dying, and no enemy leaves the kill zone. Those who have been promoted to children are to withdraw and cover the slaves or take care of their beasts while Lana and Zaraxus are with me.


    ¡°Aside from that. Go wild.¡± I grinned as a blood-curdling roar rose from the depths of my Underworld and into my mind. They¡¯ve been waiting for this for a while now, my undead. And so too have I. ¡°On my signal,¡± I said, looking up to the featureless ceilings while a thought or intent formed in my mind.


    The darkness, endless and absolute in this realm, reacted to such an intent immediately. After condensing into rippling tendrils, the darkness uncoiled towards the ceiling to silently bore holes through the hard granite before they coiled tight once more, releasing uncountable measures of loose stone to ruin the otherwise perpetual silence of the realm.


    I did nothing as the rockfall slid my way on its path around the bend. The ambient darkness, wrapped around me like a cloak, was no different from my Wraith Form. The boulders passed helplessly through me on their way to the guttural shouts and hollers rising to meet them at their destination. Thus I moved forward to see six pairs of beady crimson eyes flicking about wildly from squat busts of apparent stone. In the black-and-white spectacle of my night vision, I saw them only as a complex mix of grays before the featureless background. First six, then twelve. Then more and more, steadily pouring from plain but magnificent doors of what I knew deep down to be adamantine.


    Clinging to the wall, and thus melding into the darkness, I slipped over them and crept past the masses. Ignoring them and the sights around me as I made a beeline for the towering structure at the top of the subterranean hill.


    The king''s castle was a painfully drab structure of finely carved granite set above the mouth of the magma river. Only a few windows, a balcony, and a set of stairs on either side of the structure gave any indication that anyone lived there, though the same could have been said for the other buildings ringed around the forges. Much of the same was true for the interior. There was only stone and a seemingly endless number of dark dwarves filling the place. They were spread out behind partitions and various points of cover throughout the estate and beyond. All over, throughout the cavern, commands were shouted, or dark dwarves skittered about to take up defensive positions or belay orders.


    Even the king¡¯s court was dull. And so too was his throne room.


    He sat atop it impatiently. A leathery dwarf of charcoal skin with a glistening head and many scars spanning his barreled chest and scowling red beard. I watched him listen intently whenever a runner entered with an update on the situation and quickly belay orders in turn, feeling more bemused than amused about his actions. He was no idiot, I could see that much. Yet, the dark dwarf king was an imbecile all the same. And so too was every dark dwarf king to sit on his throne before him.


    "A stronghold at the heart of a kilometers-long adamantine vein,¡± I chortled, more from the sound of a thousand whispers lingering in the shadows than from the stupidity of whoever thought such a thing was a good idea. ¡°The thin line between ambition and hubris is traversed by your people better than any I''d seen thus far. Tell me, dark-dwarf king, of the many sleepless nights you¡¯ve suffered over this day.¡±


    I openly laughed as the king¡¯s face paled more than was possible for his charred skin. His guards, however, no doubt seasoned veterans, jumped into action promptly. A tight circle was formed around him in just over a second. Seemingly giving him the confidence to puff out his chest and shout. ¡°Who ye be, collapsin¡¯ me tunnel? What be yer aim?¡±


    ¡°I am God!¡± I whispered, and the whispers carried on to repeat the word in a hundred different shades of zeal. ¡°...of Devils.¡±


    ¡°Fiend!¡± My undead translated the king¡¯s foreign call as he lashed out his grizzled arm. ¡°Get the priests!¡±


    ¡°No good.¡± I giggled through the whispers upon seeing their tracks stomp in place. ¡°That will do you no good. For I am God. The God. Of Devils.¡±


    Taking unneeded advantage of their hesitation, I focused inward on the strange analogs of my mana well and affinity core; and again, the corrupt energies of the Darkworld readily accepted my intent and released a surge of darkness to cascade toward my immaterial form before imploding.


    Magical darkness roiled across the throne room like a sandstorm, encompassing the dark dwarf king in the impenetrable night before the black bubble was forced through the windows and door.  Carrying my undead soldiers along with my voice that growled. ¡°We are Legion!¡±


    ¡°WE ARE NOX!¡±


    Zaraxus and Lana carried the call for the entire Legion. The former darted away from me first, skating casually up to the door in just a few strides while his war scythe reared up from his chest and fell just as a dozen dark dwarves stomped before him. Their eyes flickered unendingly in a futile attempt to see through my sorcerous darkness, causing them to miss the deft sweeps of Zaraxus¡¯ curved blade entirely.


    Their cries came as airy gasps before their shriveled bodies hit the floor, splattering flaked skin and muscle-turned dust amongst the stone while a red deluge of potent life energy flowed into Zaraxus from his weapon.


    As the hearty guards¡¯ Usurped Life surged throughout Zaraxus¡¯ body, a guttural war cry was forced through his shriveled lungs before he sprinted out the door, forcing my attention back to Lana just as she introduced one of the king¡¯s guards¡¯ face to the arm of his throne.


    Laughing gleefully, Lana reeled the dark dwarf¡¯s head back to slam it again. But two more guards came down on her, impaling her with spears and mangling her wicked smile with their hammers. But she turned her beaten face on them and bellowed something feral, causing her veins to bulge and heat to begin rippling off of her body before she lunged back at them.


    Knowing she could take care of herself, I lit a blunt and waltzed past Zaraxus and an ever-increasing mound of dusty corpses to take a look around.


    The cavern was a mix of beauty and chaos.


    Slaves scurried about to their pens everywhere, shielded by skeletons and zombies from the arrows loosed from the shadowed ceiling 300 meters above. Stalagmites in the ring beyond had the backs of dark dwarves against them, mostly either flaying weapons about madly or hollering through the darkness until a living shadow peered through the veil to bring them to a quick end. The central aqueduct, however, was relatively empty of bloodshed. With it being their lifeblood, the dark dwarves were unwilling to bring the fight anywhere near the place. Giving me a more or less clear view of the layout.


    The foundries, forges, and furnaces all sat below the aqueduct, within the structure of its foundation. Allowing for magma to drip through a complex chain of coke-fed, air-blown chambers that increased and contained the heat. Keeping the chain of workstations and thus the adamantine at a near-constant 3,523 degrees Celsius.


    Even with such ridiculous heat concentrated in one place, there was a surprising amount of safety implements in place. No doubt because slaves were a precious commodity to the dark dwarves and they¡¯d remain more productive the less singed they were. Everything, the casting stations, the hammering, and the quenching in the magma rivers above, was done remotely by an intricate mechanical system that stole my eyes until I met the end of the aqueduct.


    That end signaled the beginning of a mound of bodies that littered the cavern''s perimeter up to the king¡¯s hall. The murderous cacophony had long since been reduced to a horrendous sizzling of flesh against the hot stone coupled with an acrid stench in the muggy air. The undead, still unseen in the magical darkness, had led the slaves towards the castle from the safety of their pens towards Lana and Zaraxus, standing at the gate beside a kneeling king.


    I imagined myself there and so I was. Transported through the darkness before I could even think to dismiss it. Though I held that thought, I threw all other thoughts aside, even after I found myself standing before the king, grinning at my prized undead and my grimoire floating between them. At least until I said. ¡°Report.¡±


    It was then that I dismissed the darkness. Released it to spread across an indiscriminate distance to remain and watch as I watched the color both return and leave the king''s face. He muttered silent nothings as he looked around to see the thousands of shadow-dwarves around him, smiling with teeth, beards, and eyes glowing with a seafoam green brilliance.


    ¡°In your sleepless nights, did you ever imagine it would be like this, Dark Dwarf King Giddyan Shadeforge?¡±


    His lips, which had been hung agape for the several minutes he spent gazing upon his undead clan, suddenly curled in indignance and rage. He turned his scowl to me and began to utter some damning Dwarvish words. But before he could even begin to mutter them, Zaraxus casually set his war scythe¡¯s blade against the king¡¯s neck and pulled.


    The dry thud of the king¡¯s head and body falling to the stone was heavily outweighed by another wicked war cry from the draugr, one that sent ripples of dread through the suddenly small cavern. It was a scream of pure ecstasy and bloodlust. Induced by the stolen essence of life and exacerbated by his liege''s glee at seeing his grimoire appear before him once again.

 209 - Growthspurt

    ¡°Now that¡¯s what I call a success!¡±


    The Shadow Dwarf king beamed wide at my words. As did the thousands of shadow-clad dwarves streaming around us to man the machines and shops below.


    My Shadow Undead put down 5,988 dark dwarves in less than ten minutes. That and the thousands of ¡®tamed¡¯ beasts kept by them netted the 65 of them a promotion to at least Shadow Undead Children. Though, they weren¡¯t the only ones. Through her battles with the endless waves of the king¡¯s guard and the clergy who came to their aid from the rear, Lana absorbed the life energy of over 150 sapient creatures and evolved through her teen phase into adulthood.


    [Lana: 5/20. Adult Shadow Undead]


    [Adult Shadows are equal in strength and constitution as they were in life. However, they are now incapable of growing in power by killing creatures weaker than them. To be promoted past an adult shadow, Lana must seek out and defeat a continually larger sum of strong opponents. Sapient or not does not matter. So long as they are as strong or stronger than her. In this case, ten creatures.]


    She was around the ring now, giving the former slaves a briefing on what was to come while the others cleaned up the mess in a quick fashion, leaving the zombies and skellys with me and the man himself.


    Zaraxus firmly held his post at the king¡¯s gate throughout the battle, preventing the free members of the other species from aiding the king or, in most cases, attempting to run to safety. The resulting mounds of dusty flesh around the doors were stacked almost a thousand bodies high but seemed thrice larger from the twenty-three most formidable foes Zaraxus faced.


    The Stone Giants from a far-off mining pit appeared as large humanoids looming 18 meters above everyone else, heaving boulders through the magical darkness with wild abandon. Boulders that Zaraxus easily dodged and sidestepped, even while cutting down rank after rank of blind combatants. In life, they had bald heads and lean bodies wrapped in smooth gray stone-like skin covered in loose rags or leather. Now, however, dozens of zig-zag scars of seafoam green ran up the length of their abyssal flesh. Compliments of the skellys and shadows that cut them down. However, there were only three of them. Rocky, Dusty, and... Clay.


    The second biggest challenge for Zaraxus lay in the 265 Orougs, a Darkworld phenotype of orc that made the surface orcs look as small as humans did to bears. While they were known for their crafting expertise, their displays of size and strength were pitted against Zaraxus. But still, they were no match for an angry draugr wielding a necrotic war scythe. He mercilessly slaughtered them the same as he did the 296 Derru. Though they- a type of mutated dark dwarf made to be weaker but more agile- tried to sneak away, they were cordoned off by the archers above while Zaraxus hunted them down one by one.


    The last to be slain was the Durzgon- dark dwarves tainted by a fiend''s blood. Due to that, they were unwilling to fight, seeming to be moving to investigate the claim of a greater devil being present rather than aid in supporting the king. But I had enough fanatics under me for the time being. 391 more was the last thing I needed. Besides, they were no different in death.


    With the magic imbued within his war scythe, Zaraxus absorbed far more than just the life essence of those he felled. It was essentially the Leech Hand in the form of a weapon and thus allowed him to leach every ounce of vital energy, blood, skin, and muscle from those he slayed; transforming it all into pure necrotic energy.


    From that energy, from the essence of 975 souls, Zaraxus evolved into a new class of draugr on his own accord. He was now a Death Jarl, Draugr King. And he gained a suite of abilities that even I didn¡¯t possess because of it.


    Perhaps it was from some unknown effect of a piece of Carbury¡¯s horn ingrained into the handle- if not his natural ability- but Zaraxus¡¯ new spells were eerily similar to those put on display by the dark dwarves. Like them, he could increase his size, and more, could assimilate or meld into solid stone. His scream of bloodlust was more potent than ever, able to induce a maddened frenzy in the minds of mortals, and a wind as cold as the Underworld itself seemed to blow from his body without end.


    The most intriguing ability of all, however, was the capacity to regrow his flesh by consuming the dead, enabling him to shed his skin for a buff in speed and regrow it later to regain his immense strength.


    ¡®Interesting.¡¯ A brilliantly terrifying idea formed in my mind while my eyes turned between Zaraxus and the fields of adamantine below. I turned my eyes to the stone ceilings to send some orders to Simion, far above, then returned an excited grin to my Death Jarl. I had an experiment planned for him that would make up for his missed rewards and then some, but before I could even begin to ponder it further, some incessant yipping and chattering rose about the rings of pounding metal.


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    I looked down to see a child-sized but aged figure with dull-green skin, rat-like ears, and large yellow eyes. Like the many other small figures and humans around her, sparse and tattered rags covered her. Alongside a thick layer of soot concealing her features from head to toe.


    ¡°I do not speak Goblin,¡± I flatly said in Deepcommon.


    ¡°What are you?¡± A human asked in her stead. Then she asked for herself. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    Due to her filth, her visage was entirely unrecognizable. A set of green eyes peered from a black sheet, interrupted by thin lines of pink along her face. She almost appeared inhuman, so I couldn¡¯t help but ask. ¡°What do I look like?¡±


    ¡°A¡­ dark elf. With black hair.¡± Came her hesitant answer.


    ¡°Then that is what I am.¡± I smiled before gesturing around us. ¡°As for who, I am the new owner of this mine. And.¡± I ceased my waving hand to point at the thousands of gray dwarves toiling away. "Those are my workers.¡±


    ¡°And... w- what of us?¡± She swallowed hard.


    ¡°You are free. What you do is your choice.¡± I dismissively shrugged, yet her face seemed to illuminate the whole cavern. ¡°You can go to the surface in three months. You can roam the Darkworld in search of your homelands. Or, you can remain here as free citizens of this soon-to-be industrial city.


    "Whether you chose to stay or remain.¡± I pressed on through the rise of murmurs and babbling. ¡°You all will need to spend the next three months recovering and being educated while these shadows renovate the place. Now, raise your hand if you speak Deepcommon.¡±


    As I expected, virtually everyone tepidly stuck their hand in the air.


    ¡°You two.¡± I threw my chin at the translator and the goblin that spoke to me. ¡°And¡­ you two.¡± I gestured to an orc and a dwarf who happened to be next to each other. ¡°And¡­ you.¡± I motioned towards a deep gnome. ¡°Follow me.


    ¡°The rest of you.¡± I motioned to the ring of empty estates and castles. ¡°Go get fed and cleaned up. We¡¯ll talk tomorrow.¡±


    The yipping and hollering returned in full swing with those words, and soon, a stampede of soot-caked humanoids, orc-kin, and Goblinoids trampled down the stairs, desperate to be the first to acquire their first taste of civility in perhaps their entire lives. Those who followed me seemed indignant about having to wait. At least until we entered the king¡¯s quarters, where I advised them to do the same and return the next day, giving me some reprieve to check the loot while the original designed a proper layout in the apps.


    Quite interestingly, the most prized treasures of the Gray-Dwarf king were highly detailed maps of the Bodhi Tree¡¯s Darkworld- both peninsulas. It had everything from other societies to the locations of ore veins, all annotated in addition to natural paths leading to not only the surface but beneath Crater Lake as well. Of course, I took the many gems, baubles, trinkets, trophies, and mountains of gold found in the treasure room. But the most distinguished items by far were the archaic magical items described to me by the king through our mental link. Some were talismans able to summon golems. Others were tomes describing fiend-summoning rituals and a slew of magical or enchanted items that could do everything from camouflage the wearer and absorb damage to grant them a faux-affinity to stone.


    They were fascinating, to say the least, but hardly used by the Gray-Dwarves for a reason and thus were graciously stored in my timeless spatial dimension with the items I made from Carbury¡¯s horn. I wanted to wait until I was able- or seek out Zoop if I wasn¡¯t able to appraise the items as the gnome did with my Shadowsteel Reaper. They would only be handed off to my subordinates when I understood their specific limitations and could perhaps exploit them. Only then would I feel at ease.


    As if in response to our funds increasing, the blueprints for the cavern before me came in. Essentially, the overall theme for the project wound up being, ¡®If it ain''t broke, don¡¯t fix it.¡¯ Instead of changing anything, the cavern was to be scaled up to encompass the entirety of the complex and sealed off to contain the heat. The aqueduct was to expand enough to float above the concentric rings of smelters and refineries for all metals used in the Legions. The metals with lower melting points were reserved for the outer rings, leaving the inner rings for the more demanding materials such as tungsten, mithral, or adamantine.


    That was the last item on the menu, however. The first was to carve out the largest of five abandoned mining pits and turn them into a proper residential district for the liberated ones. And with that came using another two of the pits for a Rothay reserve and mushroom farms. A commercial zone and a ¡®cold¡¯ industrial hub would comprise the final two. Those, like the central forges, were to be completed later. For now, I sent two thousand shadow dwarves into the most cavernous pit to begin working and divided another thousand between the farms and ranches. Another thousand were dispatched after that and sent inside what used to be the king¡¯s hall, the location of the future cultural hub, wherein the university, the World Temple, and my Sanctuary would stand, leaving the rest to be split between the chemical plant above and the forges spread before us.


    As for the others- the Derru, Durzgon, and Orougs- they, sadly, were rendered into husks and thus were the same type of decrepit zombie as Zaraxus'' base form. Their skin hugged their bones tightly, revealing clawed fingers of bone and feet blackened with char. Soon, they would become like draugr. For now, however, half of their absurd strength was put to work in the now-vacant mines to gather more ore than the former slaves ever could have during their bondage, and the other half went through a pinhole in the collapsed tunnels outside, moving at a full sprint to the mithral vein just a few kilometers away.


    This was the start of our revolution.

 210 - Fiendish Faith

    Syele.


    ***


    ¡°By the Gods.¡±


    I watched in awe as one of those¡­ night dwarves tugged and tugged on a freshly carved brazier until it was set in just the right place. After he brought it to life with a torch, he gave himself a proud nod and then scurried away at full speed.


    Such a sight was repeated everywhere I looked. The formerly gray but now night dwarves were mining stone, smoothing stone, shaping stone into beds and chairs and tables for the grand halls they created in a single day. Thousands of them, there were, running around tirelessly. Silently.


    The day began as any other had. We were pulled from the pens by whips and dragged chains and prodded into the mines by fangs and claws. We worked and worked and then¡­ a deep rumble spread through the stones. An earthquake, many of us thought. But the Dark Gnomes knew better. Thus I knew better.


    Even from the pits, I heard the gray dwarves swarming the entrance, hollering of a collapse in the tunnels and hollering even louder for us to get back to work. And then came the whispers. Haunting, they were. Like a thousand beings of the night, mocking the words of a single dwarf.


    Horrible, it was. But the terror came just seconds later.


    It rolled through the tunnels like a wall of dust, shrouding any and everything in an impenetrable cold that carried the same whispers as before. The gargled screams of dying gray dwarves were like the mutterings of a foreign language that plagued the back of my mind. Scratched at it like rats trapped in a barrel. The Abyss itself came to this cavern, the only world I¡¯d ever known; and it brought with it the light.


    Where others saw fiendish humans of shadow and magic, I saw a warrior goddess emerge from the king''s halls. She was tall and broad, with a glowing radiance across her scarred face that stole my legs from beneath me.


    She dragged the king from his halls and placed him before this strange dark elf. A drow with dark hair and even darker eyes. He went against everything I saw, heard of, or believed in. A drow, one with more control over the darkness than any other in these realms, freeing over a thousand slaves. And he was a necromancer.


    ¡°By the Gods.¡± I shook my head in disbelief again.


    We were with them now, the strange drow and his warrior-goddess, more than a full cycle after we ate more than we thought possible and slept longer than we ever had since being born in this foul place. Sitting in the king¡¯s hall with him, in a place I had never been, only made him seem stranger. Only made the hall seem as if it had been changed drastically since my awakening. Reduced in size somehow, for that was the only way to explain the immensity of this small figure¡¯s force of will.


    He wasn¡¯t sitting on the king¡¯s throne, for there was nothing more than a pile of rubble where it stood. He wasn¡¯t sitting at the table with us, picking over a wide range of mouth-watering dishes from the surface either. He was at the entrance to the chambers, watching the night dwarves- his dwarves- work tirelessly. He didn¡¯t seem to care for or even understand our conversations. Muttered though they were, I knew he heard us. I knew he was listening. Learning, possibly, the languages we were speaking.


    ¡°What you think he want?¡± Kast said to me in his native tongue, and the drow turned before I could begin to shrug my shoulders at the young goblin.


    ¡°Your names would be a good start.¡±


    ¡°I knew it,¡± I muttered in Durgan, but he caught that too.


    ¡°I¡¯m good with languages.¡±


    ¡°I- I didn¡¯t mean to offend, Sir!¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t.¡± He quickly crossed his arms, relaxing me a bit. ¡°And Amun is fine.¡±


    ¡°A- Amun?¡± I shook my head.


    ¡°My name.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes.¡± I hurriedly bowed. ¡°I¡¯m Syele, S- Amun.¡±


    ¡°Geingurr Redstone.¡± The dwarven woman bellowed after me. I saw her many times in the pits. Always covered in soot like the rest of us, she was. But she broke stone better than all of her kind combined; and better than the deep gnomes too, much to their ire. Her freedom allowed her fiery hair to show through, giving her the pride she lost from her now smooth and pale skin.


    ¡°I am Kamosh.¡± The orc graciously bowed next. ¡°I will never forget what you¡¯ve done for me, dark elf. I shall repay your hospitality in kind.¡±


    It went without saying, but the other orcs felt the same way about the strange drow. Many of us humans did as well. So much so that they thought it to be the result of divine intervention. Though I didn¡¯t disagree, I didn¡¯t agree either. But if there was anyone who could kill close to six thousand gray dwarves and their ugly cousins in a few minutes with no destruction to the environment, it was either a Magus or a God.


    He was already being worshiped in fact. Particularly by the goblins like Kast. Though she was still a child and thus as mailable as red-hot iron. She was so young she still struggled with Deepcommon. So the deep gnome next to her introduced her to Amun in her stead.


    ¡°And I am Nyella Lichenstone.¡± The deep gnome bowed. ¡°I speak for the rest of my kind when I say you are most honored in our eyes.¡±


    ¡°While that¡¯s appreciated.¡± The strange drow smiled. ¡°I did not act out of kindness.¡±


    ¡°And yet kindness was acted out all the same.¡± Nyella backfired. And the strange drow only shrugged helplessly.


    ¡°Tell me of your backgrounds,¡± he then said. ¡°Of how you became or lived as slaves and what your people intend to do going forward.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been here about forty years,¡± Geingurr was quick to say. ¡°Others been longer. Damned bastards!¡± She spat viciously at one of the things and wheeled her beady eyes back to Amun. ¡°We¡¯ll be going home the moment we get our bearings and find a way ¡®cross the lake.¡±


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    ¡°You¡¯re free to stay as long as you need to regain your health or gather provisions.¡± The drow quickly offered. ¡°But I won¡¯t stop you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll spread a good word for you upon my return, dark elf. I promise you that. But I¡¯m not staying in this foul place no matter how you rebuild it.¡± She grunted, then leaned into her chair to look around and wait for someone else to speak.


    ¡°I was told many of us were stolen from the surface long ago.¡± I began. ¡°Orcs and goblins too. Never any elves, though. The Knife Ears are too weak, they say. Some of us were traded from other cities. But most of us, like me, were born here. I, for one, have dreamed of the surface for as long as I can remember.¡±


    ¡°I want surface!¡± Kast shouted. Then started shouting ¡°Surface!¡± louder and louder.


    ¡°The surface may be a shock to you,¡± Amun said calmly, silencing the goblin¡¯s excitement at once. ¡°The light is bright, many creatures fill the air with constant noise, and the temperature changes daily. But I will prepare you if you wish to go.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll just¡­ let them do that?¡± I gasped in disbelief.


    ¡°I don¡¯t own you.¡± He laughed through his nose. ¡°And I can¡¯t exactly discourage you from doing anything, considering my recent actions.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s... true.¡± I sank back in my seat. He wasn¡¯t as benevolent as I thought. But¡­ still, I was curious. Enamored even. I needed to know more about him. About him and his warrior-goddess. ¡°I¡¯m ever grateful,¡± I eventually said. ¡°But, why did you kill them?¡±


    ¡°I needed mithral and adamantine.¡± He carelessly shrugged. ¡°Them living inside a dozen-kilometer-long vein of the latter was an invitation to be invaded by someone. And.¡± He turned to me, grinning wickedly. ¡°There¡¯s a vein of the former just down the tunnels.¡±


    ¡°So, you just¡­ killed them?¡± I asked incredulously, trying not to think of myself next.


    ¡°He did a damn good thing!¡± Geingurr passionately hissed.


    ¡°They wouldn¡¯t have been missed or remembered,¡± Amun said. ¡°Slavers get no pity out of me. They¡¯re worse than scum. And from what I¡¯ve learned of these ones.¡± He threw his chin to a passing dark dwarf. ¡°They would subjugate all the other creatures who dwell underground if they could. They believe they can, and so they aimed to try once they built the place up enough.¡±


    ¡°Damn right!¡± She hissed again.


    ¡°Now, however, they will gain prominence as a part of my Legions.¡±


    ¡°Your¡­ undead legions?¡± Kamosh hesitantly asked.


    ¡°Noctis.¡± Amun¡¯s face curled into a fiendish grin. ¡°The Legio Noctis, to which this mine now belongs. It is my guild, comprised of the blessed living and the graced undead. We are, above all, explorers of the Mortal Plane. Would you like to join us?¡±


    ¡°I would not.¡± Geingurr hissed again. ¡°Me and mine are returning home. But we¡¯ll do our best to convince our King to name us allies of your Legio Noctis. I was the Law Master back home. So should you find yourself in Kasia, seek me in out in the Deerchstal Stronghold. Amun, you say yer name was?¡±


    ¡°Of the Nox.¡± He nodded.


    ¡°Hmm¡­ sounds familiar.¡±


    ¡°My family is ancient,¡± Amun smirked. ¡°At the very least, however, allow me to give you an escort.¡± He produced two platoons worth of gray dwarves and their cousins with but a wave of his hand. ¡°Kasia is a long way away, after all, and you can kill your former oppressors over and over along the way. Or have them carry you.¡±


    Her smile turned into one of pure sadism. And no doubt, mine did too. ¡°Now that, I¡¯ll accept.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a drow from the surface?¡± Nyella leaned in, asking. And so too did we.


    ¡°Yes.¡± He nodded calmly. ¡°But only half. My mother lived with me and my father until I was fifteen. That¡¯s where all this comes from.¡± He waved to the shadows still scurrying about. ¡°My father¡¯s side of the family is the Nox. A clan of sorcerers with ties to the Shadow Realm and the Underworld.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s what it was!¡± Geingurr slammed her meaty palm on the table, nearly sending everyone¡¯s scraps flinging about the hall. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of ye before, Devil o'' the Cole House.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a hell of a combination, right?¡± He raised his brows repeatedly in a teasing manner.


    ¡°One that belies yer actions,¡± Geingurr growled. ¡°Yer forefathers weren¡¯t too kind.¡±


    ¡°Everyone is capable of good and evil, Geingurr.¡± Came Amun¡¯s quick reply, catching us all off guard. ¡°It is the circumstances of our upbringing that drives our actions. Gray dwarves dwell in an environment that makes them hostile and cruel. I was raised in one that abhors slavery. The same is true for drow, and devils. Even dwarves. We act in accordance with the biases imposed upon us in youth. But that is inconsequential.


    ¡°The fact is, good and evil are determined only by others when they reconcile the consequences of our actions with our reasons for taking them. The reason for their raiding and conquests was simply because they believed their cause was just. The consequence of that was the oppression of all of you, something we all agree to be evil. My reasoning for raiding and conquest was that I needed precious metals. Their being slavers was an added bonus. Regardless, the consequences of my actions resulted in your freedom and their undeath, thus you see me as good, just, and kind. But both my actions and theirs required dozens, hundreds, or even thousands of souls to be dropped into the Abyss for the sake of one¡¯s selfish goals.


    ¡°In this case, adamantine and mithral.¡± He snickered. Hauntingly so.


    ¡°So then...¡± Geingurr began after a long pause. Then seemed to give up. So I stepped in.


    ¡°I suppose the question to ask is, what are the consequences of your actions besides our freedom and their undeath?¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess it depends.¡± He sighed. ¡°Those returning to the surface can either go about their business or join my guild as Legionaries. Otherwise, you can become a citizen of my budding empire. Or go off into the caverns to find your lost homes. Unless anyone can think of anything else of course.¡± He quickly added once finished. ¡°I¡¯m open to suggestions. But to be honest, I don''t care what you do.¡±


    While I said nothing, what he said earlier got to me. The bit about the light and noise from creatures all around the surface. The Darkworld was all I¡¯d ever known. The only light I knew came from the burning earth and glowing fungus. The only temperatures I knew were hot and hotter. The only monsters seen in these caverns were the gray dwarves and their beasts. I said nothing. Not until realization hit me. ¡°And what of this place?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It¡¯ll become an industrial city in my empire,¡± he said, much to my relief. But it was stolen just after. ¡°It¡¯ll be moved in three months though.¡±


    ¡°Moved?¡±


    ¡°Gloom will befall the Darkworld by then, and not even I can stop it from keeping everyone in a state of fear. So, this place will be relocated.¡± Amun explained. But also didn¡¯t. ¡°Regardless, all will continue normally here. The undead will work without end and you all will be free to do as you please. I will be educating you, but other than that, you can decide on laws and the like yourselves. All I ask is that you keep no slaves. Though.¡± He laughed through his nose. ¡°I¡¯m sure I don¡¯t have to ask.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t.¡± I and a few others said.


    ¡°Good.¡± He smiled, then sent a dismissive wave our way. I almost expected another group of undead to fall from his arm, but all that came was his voice. ¡°That¡¯s all for now. Go out and spread the word. I¡¯ll be here.¡±


    ¡°Thank you again.¡± Nyella patted the strange drow on the hip before stepping out behind a bounding Kast. Kamosh repeated the Deep Gnomes'' actions almost precisely, only adding on to say he had an interest in hearing more of these Legions. Then he was gone. And it was just me and the strange drow who was also a devil.


    ¡°Is this what they call fate?¡± I found myself asking aloud.


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe in such things." He scoffed. "Only action can bring the change you wish to see in the realms.¡±


    ¡°Change,¡± I repeated. And for the first time, I understood what such a word meant. Change. Thousands woke up as slaves and went to sleep as free people; that was change. ¡°It- freedom was not something I ever allowed myself to hope for. To be honest, I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m to do, besides helping you in any way I can. I owe you my life. So, please. Is there anything you need me to do?¡±


    ¡°Not at the moment.¡± He shook his head, much to my dismay. ¡°But don¡¯t stress about such things, Syele. You''ve just taken the first steps as a free woman. Enjoy a life you¡¯ve never allowed yourself to hope for. You¡¯ll be learning many things over the coming weeks. You will find your calling in due time. Just have faith.¡±


    ¡°Faith¡­ Alright.¡± I nodded slowly, looked over, and couldn¡¯t help but notice a black and gold sphere being hauled into a spherical building. ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded faster. ¡°Faith.¡±

 211 - Last Leg

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Well, I guess that¡¯s it.¡±


    With an exacerbated sigh, I sent the last of many devices, tools, and magic-imbued items through the shadows to the mining city far below. The little game of give and take had been going on all weekend. They¡¯d give me adamantine and mithral to experiment with, I¡¯d send them raw materials and items to refine or install throughout the city. Now, however, the game was at an end. They would continue their work as always while me and the rest of the candidates were back on campus. Standing, as we¡¯d done every quarter thus far before Doyle and the other teachers to hear of what awaited us in the coming semester.


    ¡°Long time no see!¡± Doyle chuckled weakly after he and his peers parted from their huddle. ¡°And welcome back. I know you all have been working hard and wish to continue working. And you will! But first, we must cover an important but often overlooked aspect of adventuring. Healing."


    "To that end, we¡¯ll be leaving campus for the first time and traveling to the Southern Peninsula¡¯s Chaulort Principality to learn from the best and brightest Witches in the region!¡± Zeff announced with one of his self-imposed rounds of applause. ¡°It is there that you will study both recovery and healing magic. And it is there you will remain until the Witches of the Chaulortian Assembly cosign on your healing abilities.¡±


    ¡°So without further adieu.¡± Olga monotonously gestured to the portal.


    I wasn¡¯t particularly excited about the course. Even with light, I wasn¡¯t even considering placing myself in the position of a healer within the guild. If anything, that was Carbury''s job. Not to say he even had one. So that was what the Moon and Twilight were for. Though, like with many things, intent and reality wound up being far different.


    I intended for the Moon and Twilight to free me from the burden of Bamfing and healing my subordinates multiple times throughout every day. But what ended up being the reality is a million lingering images and whispers breaching my stream of thought from the seas of my second mind. It was similar to the effect of my passive abilities but in reverse. The images and whispers were received by the Eternal Eye, and only when my thoughts lingered on either of the lights did the feelings stir.


    I saw¡­ places. People. Things. Monoliths. Ancient ruins. That, and millions of people roaming the far kingdoms, looking at the moon or traveling through the dark. And closer to the tower, I saw monsters of all shapes, sizes, and strengths.


    Naturally, the candidates were sent in the way of most of those monsters. More, however, was saved for the churn that was to come shortly after we finished our tenure in witchcraft. A tenure that I again wasn¡¯t excited for. I was, however, excited to see a new place and eagerly went through the portal as soon as it opened.


    I emerged in an alcove leading to a grandiose atrium of paneled wood, polished stone, and towering windows looking out upon the foggy waters of the World Sea and the endless expanse of a snow-dusted land. The smells of a hundred different herbs and roasted nuts wafted through the air; circulated, and distributed through the room via hollow vines and tree branches that spun like ceiling fans.


    Cubic in shape with stairs leading to the lower levels, the atrium was on the top floor of a building only a few stories tall and starkly empty. Only three individuals came to meet the fifty-five students of Class 999 and their instructors. A slim man with a wiry nose and receding hairline, a strifling with pale red skin, and Ferris Licht.


    ¡°Welcome to the Chaulortian Assembly, students of the Bodhi Tree! I am Archibald Weisenheimer, Archwitch of this fine Witch Hut.¡±


    Ferris and even the tiefling rolled their eyes at the introduction, forcing a few giggles from Zakira and me after noticing, which stifled their introductions a bit.


    ¡°I- I am Chief of Administration, so you may not see me around as much. But my name is Hope,¡± said the Strifling after Ferris introduced herself as the director of patient care and the Archwitch of Chaulort.


    ¡°Yes, yes.¡± Archie impatiently nodded and waved as he turned. ¡°If you¡¯ll follow me.¡± His wave fell into a point leading past the stairs we descended to make note of an elevated walkway straddling the wall to the left and the open ceiling of a circular greenhouse below us and to the right. ¡°Every herb, fruit, and vegetable used in the Assembly is grown in-house. In this, we¡¯re able to feed our patients a strict diet to aid in their recovery. These rooms to our left are where the majority of your time will be spent.¡± Archie¡¯s gesture fell to the doors stretching around the outer edge of the walkway. ¡°You¡¯ll find your accommodations to be the rooms closest to your portal.


    ¡°The geography of this land is as follows,¡± he suddenly said. Forcing a heavy sigh from Ferris¡¯ lungs. ¡°The Chaulort Principality sits at the southwestern tip of the southern peninsula. Some twelve hundred kilometers to the northeast sits a highlands known as the Tri-Point. It is the region where the Kasian Empire, Rhar Kingdom, and our Chaulort Principality meet. Due to the never-ending conflicts between Rharians and Kasians, we at the Assembly are forever busy at work saving the lives of others. For those of you seeking to be Fighters or Rangers, this is what awaits you.¡± He ceremoniously peeled the curtain on a seemingly random window, revealing a medical bay filled with dismembered or disemboweled patients in the middle of healing.


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    ¡°Ugh.¡± He distastefully groaned upon seeing the uncaring reactions of the class. They, particularly the candidates, had seen worse on their own bodies. And the way he acted made me want to show him. ¡°Due to the vastness of the twelve kingdoms, we¡¯re all but forced to send Witch parties to the many witch huts and houses spread across the land. Rarely are the patients wounded near a portal linking them to here. But in some cases, most often the worse.¡± He chortled. ¡°They are stabilized and taken here for treatment. As such, your tenure of healing magic will face you with some of the worst injuries imaginable. Your lessons at the lower end of the spectrum will begin in just a few short hours. By the end of the day, the best of you should have moved on to proper healing magic and will progress as such until we can call yourselves licensed Witches. Whether we choose to follow the path or not, it will be an invaluable tool as an adventurer. So I wish you the best during your studies. And I bid you farewell.


    ¡°Ladies!¡± With a flaring snap of the finger, Archie was on his way, leaving the pained expressions of Ferris and Hope to be the center of everyone¡¯s focus.


    While he was annoying, I did agree with him. And I didn¡¯t need to pass on the word to let the others know. The simple fact that I resonated with that particular line of thought meant my Doppelganger did as well. And he would let the other Doppelgangers know how seriously they should take this. They, like me, needed to be able to heal others and if possible, themselves; ¡®cause I sure as shit won''t be doing it here soon.


    Ferris and Hope showed us to our rooms with nary a word. They even let us pick and choose the ones we wanted and left only when they made sure everyone claimed one. They weren¡¯t much. Nothing more than patient rooms with a surprisingly comfortable wooden cot and a desk to go with the visitation chairs in the corner.


    Our lessons came a few hours later as advertised. After a rather exquisite lunch, we were guided to an empty multi-patient room and given a lecture on recovery magic by Ferris. Already being practiced, I sat back and tinkered with my apps while listening in for any new knowledge. Of which there was very little. Though she was a far better teacher than Grandpa Lich was.


    The only snippet of information regarded the difference between an evolved and an unevolved body. A difference I could easily distinguish from by looking at it, but surprisingly or not, recovering an evolved being was far more difficult than the other way around. It was because of the potentially endless Perks available to the evolved. Depending on their nature, specific areas may need to be focused on or avoided entirely for the individual to properly heal. Learning the difference was a matter of one¡¯s proficiency as a Witch. As such, we would only be recovering unevolved people.


    My first victim was a relatively young man in his thirties perhaps, with an injury I saw far too often in my past life. Carpal tunnel. He sank in his bed upon seeing me, then seemed to calm down after gaining a closer look. But only a little. ¡°Just relax.¡± I smiled, outstretching my hands.


    Tentatively, he held them out to be grasped gently. Then visibly relaxed once I got ahold of his mana and began ebbing and flowing it toward his wrists.


    ¡°You know,¡± I suddenly said, ceasing his sighs in seconds. ¡°It¡¯ll be a lot better to just get new ones.¡±


    ¡°W- what?¡¯


    ¡°Hands.¡± I shook his gently. ¡°Just say the word. I can pop these bad boys off and have you a prosthetic in no time.¡±


    ¡°N- no!¡± He tugged violently but ceased once I paused in his recovery.


    ¡°What do you do for a living?¡± I then asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m a writer.¡± He harrumphed.


    ¡°Oh?¡± I suddenly beamed. ¡°As am I.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± He leaned back a bit to size me up once more. ¡°No shit? Got any advice?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re up to explore a new genre.¡± I shrugged, then shook his wrists a final time. ¡°That feeling you had. The one when I was joking about your wrists.¡±


    ¡°Oh, is that what that was, a joke?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded past his sarcasm. ¡°That feeling of horror? Write a story with that theme. Make your readers feel it. Make your words haunt them.¡±


    ¡°A- alright. Yeah. Yeah.¡± He began rocking his head back and forth. ¡°I will. Thanks. And thanks for this.¡± He shook his hands.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it.¡± I grinned, then skittered across the room to my next victim. An older lady with back issues. Many slipped disks, she had. So I couldn¡¯t help but ask. ¡°How much pain can you handle?¡±


    ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± She huffed and began to turn, but I halted her with a gently placed palm and a stream of mana that soothed her aches blissfully.


    ¡°A few knocks here and a few bangs there and you¡¯ll be good as new!¡± I beamed. ¡°Your back will be as straight as a board for at least ten more years. But.¡± I hesitantly shrugged. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to give you a heart attack on accident so... hence my question.¡±


    My words petrified her in place. Locked her in a state of fear on her bed. But her treatment was complete and more, her temporary immobilization was probably good for her, giving me a good feeling about the whole thing as I made my way to the next victim. But Archie stopped me in my tracks before I could make it. As planned.


    ¡°Congratulations.¡± He droned on the word, allowing his sickening tone to reverberate throughout the room endlessly. ¡°You pass. You may take the rest of the night off. But, please.¡± He droned again, this time hissing it through his teeth. ¡°Do care to not give our patients unneeded¡­ stress.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing, Archie.¡± I gave him a brisk pat on the shoulder before waltzing out. And smiled as his hissing voice trailed through the walls after me.


    ¡°And do not call me Archie.¡±


    Though the day was still young and I hadn¡¯t smoked in hours, I took my mirth to my room and smothered it to death with meditation. At first for the sake of my four hours of rest, where I watched yet another repetition of the only dream I¡¯ve experienced in this life. Then to grow closer to the necrotic Ki I was so desperate to circulate.


    After trying and failing for the umpteenth time, I emerged in the cold hours of pre-dawn to mosey around and search for a place to smoke. Only to be distracted by the familiar sense of a whisper in the back of my mind. It was of a familiar voice. One that asked- prayed for my presence. And so, in the pale light of the crescent moon, I followed it up the stairs to the viewing platform we arrived in.

 212 - Blood of Devotion

    Opal of the Blackblood Clan.


    ***


    ¡°I never enjoyed healing.¡±


    Zakira looked at me incredulously, as expected, but I continued. ¡°They fear us until they learn we can use their blood to aid them. Then they plead for their lives. It''s pathetic.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re a Cleric now, Opal.¡±


    ¡°Clerics are not Witches, Zed," I flatly said. For it was the truth. We followed the will of our God. But we had yet no bible. No holy words or commandments. Only a symbol. But still, Zed prayed. Day in and day out, she prayed to Mani, as I did to Amun. My faith was as unbroken as hers. But her devotion far outshined mine. Where she had devotion, however, I had a connection.


    Though I loved her dearly, Zakira was not one to be described by others as wise. I knew that was simply a ruse. She was far more intelligent and sagely than she let others be even acutely aware of, which was a wise act in itself. But she was also hasty, somewhat pacifistic, and a bit naive. Especially for a Vampyre. I loved her dearly, so that¡¯s how I knew. She had yet to notice the signs. Or perhaps she did.


    She could be masterfully deceiving after all.


    ¡°It has been some time. Years since I¡¯ve seen another of our blood.¡±


    To my surprise, Zed didn¡¯t wheel around at the sound of the regal voice. She slowly opened her eyes, took a final look at the moon above, then stood to face about and peer upon the porcelain visage of browns and deep reds.


    She was strikingly similar in appearance to Zed and I. A doll-like frame stood just slightly larger than ours, with dark skin adorned with many chains and piercings to accent her bulbous crimson eyes beautifully. She was starkly similar in makeup to Zed and I as well, I learned after focusing my eyes on the web of veins spanning her small frame. Dark and cold, they were. Pulsing ever so slowly with the blood of a beast.


    ¡°I''m here to teach you of Vampiric Witchcraft. Though.¡± Her lips curled just enough to show a fang twice as long and thick as ours combined. ¡°I¡¯m sure you both are in no need of instruction. I am Vanya of the Zveri.¡± She bowed. ¡°It is an honor to meet those from another Clan after all this time."


    ¡®Oh. The mother tongue.¡¯ I snorted. Then bowed politely. ¡°Opal of the Melns.¡±


    ¡°Zakira. Of the Virkne,¡± she struggled to say. ¡°I no longer carry the name though.¡±


    I practically saw her reaction before it happened. Raised brows and bulging eyes turned to Zakira, giving her the aura of friendship while aiming to fill herself with any information she could glean. "Oh?¡± Came the recoil. ¡°Then what is your name now?¡±


    ¡°Uh.¡± She stammered. ¡°Zakira. Of the Bloodmoon.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Vanya leaned back nodding, dissatisfaction hiding beneath the chains hanging from her face. ¡°So you intend to build a new Clan?¡±


    A ridiculous notion. An impossible one, we all knew. But Zakira paid it no mind.


    ¡°I intend to build a church.¡± Zed cheekily corrected her, making me nearly lose my stern scowl.


    ¡°A religious vampire?¡± Vanya chortled. ¡°That¡¯s new. To what deity do you pray?¡±


    ¡°That one!¡± Zed swept her arm outward and Vanya¡¯s eyes followed. Out the window and up to the moon. ¡°Mani, the World Weaver! Or the Orbiter. Whichever one sounds the coolest cause he¡¯s, like, really great and stuff.¡±


    ¡°Mani.¡± She slowly nodded, as if she were committing the name to memory. ¡°So then, you wish to become a Cleric of this, Mani?¡±


    ¡°Duh!¡± Zed scoffed. ¡°He wants me to find a priest and build a church. It¡¯s going to be fun!¡±


    ¡°Do you always talk like that when you¡¯re nervous, or...?¡±


    ¡°Are we here for lessons or inquires?¡± I stepped in, staring deeply into her eyes as I awaited her answer. And it didn¡¯t take long for her to back off shrugging.


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    ¡°I am simply trying to help,¡± she said, raising her clawed hands. ¡°There are many lost bloods and more lost souls here and in the greater peninsula. A church dedicated to the right deity may do them some good. But, others may not be so happy with the arrival of a new pantheon.¡±


    ¡°And they shall rue their vacuity should they raise their hands against our God.¡± I sneered. ¡°He is not merciful.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s such fervor in your faith that I can¡¯t help but believe you.¡± Vanya passionately smiled.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be the same too.¡± Zed pettily huffed. ¡°Once you meet him.¡±


    ¡°Once¡­ I meet him?¡±


    ¡°He is among us.¡± I smiled, baring my fangs this time. ¡°In our class.¡±


    Again the tables were turned. Vanya, centuries older than us, stared deeply into our eyes in an attempt to ascertain the truth. And, finding one she couldn¡¯t come to believe, she asked. ¡°What name does this student go by? Not Mani, I presume.¡±


    ¡°My God is Amun.¡±


    She recoiled immediately, blinking her incredulous eyes at me rapidly. ¡°The Nox child?¡±


    ¡°You know him?¡± I asked, unsurprised.


    ¡°I know of the Nox. Thus I know of him.¡± She knowingly smiled. ¡°Can you introduce me?¡±


    ¡°We can pray for his presence.¡± I began stepping out. ¡°He¡¯s probably somewhere smoking.¡±


    ¡°After our lesson.¡±


    As she implied, the word ¡®lesson¡¯ was a misnomer. It was more of a certification, seeing as we learned all of the Vampyric arts years ago. There was nothing here for us to learn except the lore of the other worlds and the path I- we chose. Vanya knew that, and so she didn¡¯t see the merit in wasting our time. Instead, she offered a surprising amount of insight into religion on our return to the viewing platform on the top floor. And then came her begging to see Amun.


    ¡°What is she doing?¡±


    ¡°What does it look like?¡± I quietly snapped.


    ¡°I thought you were both Clerics,¡± Vanya whispered back. ¡°Why are you not praying?¡±


    ¡°This is when her prayers are the loudest.¡± I motioned towards the moon above. Mine are loudest during Twilight.¡±


    Her eyes suddenly trailed away as she muttered. ¡°Twilight¡­¡± Then snapped her almost glistening eyes back to me. ¡°Will he come?¡±


    ¡°If you have faith.¡± I smiled.


    It was clear she had doubts about Amun being a God. But so too was it clear that she knew of Amun¡¯s family personally. She acted like me and Elijah after our initial introduction to him. Tentative. Awed. Overwhelmed, even. He was like the sun if it walked on two legs and radiated death. His energy enriched our spirits like blood enhanced our constitution. Though it did that too. It was that blissful feeling that announced his presence. And Vanya allowed its pull to tug at her without resistance.


    She was standing before God in a flash. Bowing almost to the knees as she excitedly asked. ¡°How does the Raven slumber?¡±


    I retained a wince in my eye upon hearing such a desperate tone, but Amun seemed not to care. He only smiled warmly while a distant haze swept over his eyes. ¡°She¡¯s beside herself with glee.¡± He nostalgically sighed. ¡°I imagine her smiling in her grave right now. Waiting for the next time I commune with her. Doubly so, with the knowledge that her flock grows while she sleeps. I¡¯ll be sure to tell her you said hello, Miss¡­¡±


    ¡°Vanya.¡± She bowed lower. ¡°It is my honor, my Lie-¡±


    ¡°God.¡± I corrected before Amun could. But of course...


    ¡°Amun is fine.¡± He smiled wider. ¡°Or Mani.¡±


    ¡°Mani.¡± Vanya carefully repeated the words. ¡°I have heard from these two that you think you¡¯re... a god?¡±


    ¡°Is,¡± Zed interjected. "Not think."


    A devious smirk spread across Amun¡¯s face as he asked. ¡°What do you think, Vanya?¡± And I found myself clutching my holy symbol before his words kept flowing. ¡°What did you think? When you saw the Mortal Plane release itself to take root in the sky?¡±


    ¡°I-¡± She stammered, seeming to fail in shifting into the new pace of the conversation. ¡°I- I was speechless. I didn¡¯t know what to think.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Amun recoiled in apparent surprise. ¡°Speechlessness is so often spurred from what the unconscious mind thinks to be inconceivable. It convinces you of a lie, preventing you from acknowledging what you know to be true.


    ¡°So, tell me.¡± Amun pressed on, seeming to repeat himself. but catching Vanya off-guard once again by asking. ¡°When the barren earth in the sky eclipsed the blazing sun, what did you think?¡±


    ¡°That- that these lands have met their end.¡± Came her flat reply. And Amun was quick to point out her folly with a low chortle.


    ¡°So quickly that answer came to you, Vanya. So easily does the mind conceive total destruction, despite it often having never seen it. That is the curse of existence, whether it be natural or undead.


    ¡°The Call of the Void.¡± Amun waved his hand through the air as if he were gesturing toward something miraculous. ¡°When its ring was answered by an abyssal sapling that rose to compete with the Bodhi Tree. Tell me, Vanya of the Zveri, what did you think?¡±


    Pride, arrogance, suspicion, whatever it was that kept her in doubt, I saw it shatter at the mention of her name. Though, somehow, speechlessness still had its grip on her. As she stood there, somehow slumped into a mess and standing submissively before God, all she could mutter was. ¡°The Nox has returned to bathe the planes in darkness.¡±


    Amun''s grin widened further. ¡°Yes.¡± He hissed. ¡°The Nox has come out of hiding. So tell everyone you know to spread the word, Vanya. The Twenty-Fifth Plague of the Abyssal Night is here to make the pendulum swing. I am Mani, the World Weaver. The Man Inside the Moon." He pointed to the radiant orb above with a hint of the same light imbued in his finger. Then, he spread the dark occluded light across the ground below with his other hand. ¡°So too am I the Elven Devil. God of Devils. Amun.


    ¡°Tell everyone you know, Vanya.¡± He leaned close to her and whispered. ¡°Gloom stalks the horizon.¡±

 213 - Accursed Life

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°All affinities can heal. Figuring out how an affinity can be used for healing is the trademark of Witchcraft, and the knowledge has been passed down for almost fifteen hundred years!¡±


    The unimpressed aura given by the majority of the class didn¡¯t daunt Ferris in the least. She purposefully waltzed back and forth between the groups, catching the eyes of many of the young men and some of the women as she made her way to and fro the draped windows at either side of the room.


    We were organized by magical type, which innately called for a few people to jump back and forth between different groups. Others, like the vampires, were entirely absent. And of course, I was off at the end in my own group; across the way from Lance.


    ¡°It¡¯s only thanks to those that came before, that Witchcraft exists in its current state. The records indicate that Class Evolution existed before the current era, but affinity cores did not. Only Sorcerers and hedge witches or wizards possessed the ability to wield magic or do anything more than manipulate the elements without being evolved. Their sacrifices and the sacrifices of their patients are what allow anyone with a magical ability to become a licensed Witch, regardless of evolutionary status.


    ¡°Those sacrifices are still being carried out to this day.¡± Ferris solemnly hung her head. ¡°It is a fact all Witches acknowledge, and none hope to experience for themselves. Moreover, it is a truth that I wish to drill into each of your minds!¡±


    With a wave of her hands, the curtains of the adjacent rooms were revealed. Showing us a sight that many of us had never seen. Including myself.


    One man, the first I happened to look upon, had vertical stripes running along the length of his body. Like glowing tiger stripes of fire or magma, they seared at the skin closest to the markings, singeing them to ash even while new skin bubbled over to take its place. He was in a never-ending loop of pain and healing. As was the next patient, an elven woman with a missing leg that was supposed to have been replaced by a knotted and winding branch. Only, the wood took root in her thigh and spread throughout her abdomen, breaching the skin in various places to form a fungal-covered maze across her body. Another had pale blue skin like Zaraxus. He constantly shivered in his bed, leaving a thick cloud of his breath lingering around his head. Yet another, supposed to have been healed with air, was gasping for breath without end. Clutching at his throat and thrashing himself into his pillow to wipe the endless tears from his face.


    It was traumatizing. To them. But my eyes only saw opportunities. My eyes only saw the desperate. All around me, everywhere in this hospital- or witch hut, people were desperate to live. And I had the power to make that happen. For a price of course.


    ¡°Please keep these patients in mind while you study and practice.¡± Ferris pleaded. ¡°I¡¯ll only put you with a live patient once I know you¡¯re ready. And I know you all want to return to your training, so do us both a favor and take this seriously.¡±


    With our verbal agreements made and our books in tow, we followed Ferris to a multi-patient room down the hall to be split amongst several training dummies made of solid light. She then made several duplicates of herself and split them among the groups. Then surprisingly came to me in her physical form with a book in tow.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure the Necro King has taught you how to heal?¡± She rhetorically asked. ¡°Well, I know there¡¯s no other way to do it with your sorcery, but causing patients pain during treatment is against our policy. But we can focus on your other affinities! Welcome to the club!¡± She thrust a book into my face. One with a cover of off-white fleece and gold with the image of a shining sun at the center. A book about Healing Light.


    But¡­ ¡°The club?¡± I hesitantly asked.


    ¡°Our family is big.¡± She helplessly shrugged.


    ¡°Like I¡¯ve told your¡­ sister?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± I nodded. ¡°Like I told Felicity, I¡¯m not altruistic enough to be a healer, but the knowledge is appreciated."


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s certainly a required trait.¡± She soughed. ¡°And you have to take this class.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m aware, but I¡¯d like to propose another avenue. May we talk outside?¡±


    I followed her gaze to Lance, who wasn¡¯t staring disapprovingly, but with interest until I looked his way.


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°Archie lives up to his name, huh?¡± I turned to her with a snort once we were outside.


    ¡°That¡¯s an understatement.¡± Ferris rolled her eyes.


    ¡°I can see his mastery of his work has inflated his ego and forced his morals out of alignment with his position. He¡¯s fueled by fame. Lustful for renown.¡±


    She stayed silent and gave me a look that implied she agreed, but not openly. Implying to me that we were being watched.


    That was preferable to me.


    ¡°You''re able to sense such things when you¡¯re born with a throne in the Underworld,¡± I explained, tapping at my temple. ¡°Wicked people. Corrupt souls. The Shadow of Death. The Reapers of Grimm. Ghosts. I smell and see these things like the herbs in that garden.


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    ¡°Have you ever heard of it? The Shadow of Death.¡± I suddenly asked, pulling her eyes away from the gardens below, if only for a second.


    She shrugged half-heartedly and looked away. ¡°I know Grimm is responsible for it. She keeps people from being healed without divine intervention.¡±


    ¡°Or a Faustian Deal.¡±


    Ferris snapped to me fully. Her radiant eyes looked deep into mine as they squinted in abject betrayal. ¡°A- are you... offering to... take the souls of my patients?¡±


    ¡°Only those who accept such a temptation.¡± I amiably shrugged. ¡°If it is their only hope to live. If even you or Archie cannot save them, if they seek to run from the natural order of things and escape from death in any way they''re able, shouldn¡¯t they have the freedom to sell their soul, knowing full well the consequences of their actions?¡±


    ¡°I cannot agree to that, Amun." She sternly shook her head. "You know I can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I regrettably sighed. ¡°You can¡¯t. And you have my word that I won¡¯t act against your authority.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°That said,¡± I continued, draining her face entirely. ¡°I¡¯m already versed with using light to heal. However, instead of testing immediately, I¡¯d like to peruse the library, if possible.¡±


    Her face warmed immediately. ¡°A scholar are we?¡± She chortled softly.


    ¡°Indeed.¡± I smiled. ¡°Libraries are one of my favorite places in all the realms.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not something we usually advertise, seeing the strict schedule the Bodhi Tree keeps. But I suppose it wouldn¡¯t hurt for you. It¡¯s on the first floor, east of the garden in a sub-level.¡±


    I took my time moving there. And once inside, I plucked the first book I found to begin idly scanning the pages. I made it through perhaps a dozen books by the time it happened. A slim figure with a receding hairline glided into the room to stop just behind me. And, ¡®engrossed¡¯ in the book, I hardly noticed him.


    ¡°Is it so wrong to cling to life? We humans have it naught like the elves or dwarves or, dare I say a Nox devil. A century at most for us meek men. And cursed with ambition we are. Who among us cannot sympathize with our cruel fate? Surely one versed in such a wide range of specialties as yourself can, I''m sure."


    ¡°The choice comes down to the individual in the end.¡± I closed the book and looked into his foul eyes. ¡°Only they have that freedom. Should they choose to embrace the Shadow of Death, all I can give them is comfort in passing. Something a prominent and experienced Witch of decades can sympathize with, and something many young Witches should need to learn, I''m sure.¡±


    ¡°Show me.¡±


    Hiding my smile, I followed him to the basement, of all places, beneath the main entrance, to a hall of rooms adjacent to a single pair of doors that reeked with the sweet stench of death.


    ¡°These patients are unlike the ones your students are helping." Archie turned to me with a sudden quiver of excitement in his otherwise placating yet condescending voice. "These people are in pain, both physically and mentally. They are on their deathbeds. All we can do is, as you say, give them comfort in passing. So show me.¡± He repeated, swinging the door open. "I will remain here.¡±


    I entered to see a familiar sight from just a few months ago. The long, spindly hands of a small umbral figure were strewn across the chest of a man wrapped in bloodied rags. It raked eagerly at his chest, seemingly provoking the horrid sobs sputtering from the man¡¯s lungs.


    ¡°Oho! No!¡± he sobbed louder the moment I entered. ¡°Ooh! I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m-sorry-I¡¯m-I¡¯m-sorry-I¡¯m-sorry I¡¯msorryI¡¯msorry¡­¡± He kept apologizing. Kept wailing. Louder and louder. Shook his head madly and wildly as I approached his bedside to kneel, lowering my head down his ear.


    The Shadow of Death then moved to lower its head into the crook of my neck, sending a thousand whispers trailing into my mind. Millions of them. Trillions perhaps. Telling me all types of things about this particular mortal soul.


    ¡°Oh.¡± I sadly groaned in a voice that was hardly my own. ¡°Why do you cry, child?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he sobbed. But his soul whispered. ¡®Chagrin. Remorse. I must repent.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡±


    ¡°Death cares not for your deeds done in darkness, Liamond. Your soul is out of time. It must descend. You must go. To the Abyss.¡±


    ¡®I must repent.¡¯ The whisper repeated. Liamond thrashed. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry!¡±


    ¡°Shhh.¡± I palmed his chest, and a cold something spread through him, calming him so. ¡°You intend to repent with gold? To bless your victim''s kin with the material in exchange for another¡¯s life a hundred times over?¡±


    ¡®I cannot rest otherwise. I cannot repent otherwise. I know of no other way.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡±


    ¡°At what cost?¡± I asked.


    ¡®Anything,'' his soul whispered. ¡°Please.¡± His mouth muttered.


    ¡°Borrowed Time,¡± I whispered. ¡°That is the price, Liamond. An accursed extension of one tenday to fulfill your pursuits. And once that tenday has passed, Liamond, you shall have another accursed tenday to fulfill my pursuits. And then another. And another. As many tendays as it takes, I will keep you, Liamond, on Borrowed Time.¡±


    ¡°Please.¡± He both whispered and muttered.


    ¡°Very well,¡± I muttered and the Shadow of Death suddenly jumped to life and backed into me. I felt a distant shudder throughout my entire body before darkness began leaking through my mouth to write out the agreement in the air. Then, the Shadow projectile vomited into Liamond.


    Veins of darkness lurched through his body, sending sounds of squirming flesh beneath his bandages while the dark trails crawled up to his recolored face in droves. At its peak, the darkness condensed and swelled, shifting the skin of his brow from a pale yellow to purple before the energy compressed into a tiny mote of darkness that popped from his head and drifted about it lazily, leaving what appeared to be a mole just above his eye.


    With a deep, guttural gasp, Liamond sprang out of bed, ripping off his bandages as he bounded past an astounded Archie, screaming. ¡°I must go! Thank you!¡±


    ¡°Amazing!¡± Archie gasped.


    ¡°He won¡¯t think so in a month.¡± I snorted.


    ¡°What did you say to him?¡±


    I studied him for a second to see if he was playing me, but all signs pointed towards him not. He didn¡¯t hear a thing. Thus I smirked. ¡°That¡¯s between me and him. However, there is another who can give these people a mercifully quick end to their suffering, should they want it.¡± I turned away as he looked at me curiously. ¡°His name is Rua Nun.¡±


    I said nothing else as I stepped past him to the next room. To make another deal. And two days later, I returned from my venture to the library to make two more, and two more after every other day until the first tenday had passed.


    The last and most important of them was a man with dark tan skin and a grayed beard. Raymond was his name, a Vrurian councilor of some sort who was poisoned by his political adversary in the Mazi Council. Though that was irrelevant, his time was up. Still, though, he didn¡¯t want to hear it. So like all the others, he was cursed and corrupted and sent on his way to bring his life to ruin. And I went on to have Ferris verify my skill and return to the Bodhi Tree. But not before hearing Archie¡¯s departing words.


    ¡°I do regret seeing you go.¡± He sank in his posture. ¡°But the miracles performed in his building shall not be forgotten. Not by me or your patients. You can fully call yourself a Witch, Amun. That is something to be proud of."


    I only nodded, at first. Then I turned halfway to the portal to give him a departing smirk. ¡°I¡¯ll see you soon, Archie.¡± I nodded. But my smirk grew into a hauntingly rolling laugh as I stepped through, then ceased entirely once I looked upon the overwhelming presence of the Bodhi tree and felt brisk but not-yet-winter air around me. "If only I could have flown back." I solemnly shook my head.


    That would have been nice.

 214 - Necrocoronation

    Numa.


    ***


    In a way, the Darkworld was the perfect place for my industry. The corruptive energies had strange effects on magic, particularly on divination, and this region was a bit above the average in terms of density. That, however, only played into my situation nicely. Here, in the dark city, the renovation work had long since been completed and the undead shadow dwarves had experienced an extensive education in the Shade Palace. Not to unlearn or abandon their habit of building grossly utilitarian constructs, but to teach them that their creations were but templates. Foundations. Canvases to be drawn on by another.


    They never understood. But still, they had no choice but to accept my teachings and move on to learn about technology. Circuit boards, transistors. Electronics in general was right up their alley. Hardware did not need to look pretty, and being made from materials refined from the earth only strengthened their love for it. Though their hands were ill-suited for the tasks requiring precision, they were deeply engrossed in the work all the same. A seemingly good thing, it was, until it got so bad that they started fighting amongst themselves to see who would create electronics rather than work in the forges or the mines.


    Naturally, I left it up to their king to decide. And he decided to make them fight for it. Inadvertently giving a new means of recreation to the citizens.


    As for them, nearly all of them were in the process of learning to read, write, and count from their clones and I was doing the same in their languages. There were a few stragglers of course, but the ones that graduated first moved on to learn how to type shortly after. While the printing press already existed, typewriters were a rare commodity. Thus some people across the realms knew how to type, although the keys were much, much different.


    Still, computers were a foreign idea up until now. That allowed for a much simpler range of inputs to be fashioned into the design, especially when the keys were written in the more-than-primitive language of the goblins. Regardless, here, in the Darkworld, the first computer was born into existence and the citizens who witnessed it were faced with the task of learning how to write in the machine languages- binary.


    The best of them would go on to learn how to code and would be put to work with me, the Doppelganger, creating programs to aid the new technologies being created by the day while the others continued their education in specialized fields. Unless things changed with my evolution, that wouldn¡¯t be months, if not years to come, however. Even I couldn¡¯t teach them that fast. And the original wasn¡¯t here to temporally dilate the cavern.


    That left all the work to me while Amun took his time in the healing course. Naturally, the first of those technologies lay in the agricultural field, which in itself required extensive research and tailoring to fit the biomes found within both the Darkworld and the realms above. Research that was continuing a tenday later, alongside several other technologies.


    Along with agriculture and industry, transportation and communication were the most important aspects of any military or fighting group. If soldiers couldn¡¯t communicate, they¡¯d find themselves not knowing where to go or who to fight. If they had no arms or equipment, they couldn¡¯t fight to the best of their ability. If their objective was too far, they¡¯d be too tired to fight efficiently upon arrival. And if they weren¡¯t fed, they wouldn¡¯t fight at all.


    That went for any organization. Any nation. And with goals that necessitated Legions numbering millions and perhaps millions more civilians, that certainly went for mine. I had some of those facets in excess, and only some, but what I didn¡¯t have were redundancies. Contingencies. Backups for the backed-up backups.


    In other words, I needed more land. More mines. More farms. More ranches. More towers and cities and most of all, people. More citizens to learn the arts of coding and machinery and precision engineering and fabrication alongside their brethren so that their protectors, the Legions, may have the toys, food, tools, and intel they needed to remain free while they explored the realms. It was a long road, and I couldn¡¯t wait to see its end.


    The milestones, however, didn¡¯t require a wait. Internal combustion engines and more, including both superchargers and turbochargers, were being prototyped, tested, and remodeled by the undead dwarves and a veritable mob of orcs ceaselessly. Whereas I brought on the advent of the greatest vehicle in the world, the tractor.


    What a glorious milestone it was. And more would soon follow. They, however, would be the last for miles to come. Millions of people needed to be educated to a level unseen in these realms, after all. As of now, there were hardly two thousand between Hill Base and here, with the majority being in the subterranean city with me. And down here, humans were the minority. They came in all types, flocking to the schools to begin the arduous task of learning those trades and more. Materials Science. Electrical Engineering. Computer Hardware. Medicine. Even the beginnings of nuclear science were being studied by the smartest of them.


    But even then, hundreds more turned their back on the academy after learning the basics. Instead, much to my glee, they turned to the arts. Drawing, painting, weaving, and carving. They carved so much, transforming the barren caverns into grand depictions of what they perceived through that impenetrable darkness to be divine intervention. And even then, hundreds upon hundreds more turned inward to reflect on that impenetrable darkness they saw. Those countless perspectives, borne from the minds of many, all came to one conclusion. They all came to one word. One title that could explain the inexplicable being they so witnessed.


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    God.


    ***


    Elsgril Silverforge.


    ***


    ¡°Now don¡¯t think yer going to be makin¡¯ a habit of pullin¡¯ me from my work!¡±


    ¡°Certainly not.¡± The drow-devil snickered. ¡°But I can safely say you¡¯ll be amazed by what I¡¯m to show you.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve seen your oils and fuels and the like already.¡± Forgruna quickly added before we stepped into the great room of loud machinery and rich odors.


    ¡°But you haven¡¯t seen this.¡± Amun grinned, his voice cutting through the endless noise like an axe through a goblin''s neck while his arm swept wide over a large, flat-bottomed cauldron made of glass. ¡°During our tenure at the Assembly,¡± he said, emphasizing the bright blue liquid pooled inside. ¡°My Doppelganger managed to find a formula that works with adamantine.¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Matthew and even Ed stammered. And I may have as well, muted though it was under Forgruna frustrated bellow.


    ¡°That tells us nothin¡¯! Out with it, dark elf!¡± She spat.


    But Amun just smiled harder and turned away, calling to the shadows, ¡°Zaraxus!¡±


    His appearance from the dark was more ominous than any other I felt. From his battles against the hated dark ones, the Draugr saw immense growth, I was told. Now, I saw only a skeleton with blue-green blazes pouring from his eyes. I felt a deep chill coming from his body and the immense strength rattling through the stone with each mighty step towards his master. And as always, he stopped with his head hung low, fists clasped resolutely to touch his first knuckles together before his missing belly.


    ¡°Tell me how this feels,¡± Amun said, holding the Death Jarl¡¯s bony fingers in one hand while a tiny paintbrush in the other hand dipped into a floating vial. What came out was a thick silvery paint that was carefully applied to the undead¡¯s finger. And I just couldn¡¯t help myself after seeing it.


    ¡°Bwahahaha!¡± I roared. ¡°What are you paint¡®n the Draugr King¡¯s nails?¡±


    ¡°I feel nothing,¡± Zaraxus flatly replied.


    ¡°Quickly, do the other!¡± Forgruna bellowed, joining in, and soon, Matthew followed along in our light-hearted jeers. But I couldn¡¯t help but notice Ed watching Amun curiously. And though I surely kept up my jesting, I kept a careful eye on Amun telling the now-silver-clad Zaraxus to standby while he coated some creature¡¯s thigh bone in the same silver paint.


    With a careless toss, the bone was chucked inside the vat and swirled around with his magic for a few moments before he flicked his finger upwards, sending the bone on an arc right towards my feet to land with a noticeable metallic clank.


    I felt not only my smile bleed from my face but the mirth drain from the room itself as I held the heavy bone to the light. And by the green sheen, it was adamantine surely.


    Suddenly, a horrendously high-pitched whine followed by the sound of grinding spun me back to Amun, pushing a furiously rotating saw across the top of Zaraxus¡¯ head, shearing it off completely. With one slow draw of the hand-sized device, a rib came next, fell, and drifted about him. Then came another. And then more and more until a total of twelve ribs floated about all around him.


    It was then that he spread one of his time-warped zones and fashioned the pieces back together with adamantine hinges before painting the new pieces silver within just a few seconds. Then, after placing a live wire in the Death Jarl¡¯s hand, Amun clasped the other end and pointed to the cauldron before ordering. ¡°March.¡±


    It couldn¡¯t be helped, but the four of us marched towards the tank behind Zaraxus. It was only then that I noticed Amun holding another wire in his other hand, connected to the adamantine sinking into the fluid.


    While his undead walked, a few sparks danced across the drow-devil''s body while the adamantine rod began to bubble subtly. Simultaneously, the light footfalls of the skeletal Death Jarl grew ever louder and ever clunkier as he meandered across the cauldron until, like the bone still grasped tightly in my hand, Zaraxus emerged covered in Adamantine from head to toe.


    ¡°Holy fuckin¡¯ Hells!¡±


    It was Matthew who made the exclamation, though we all visibly shuddered at the sight, at the thought, at the horror of whoever inevitably found themselves warring with us Legions of the Noctis. I exchanged a glance with Forgruna, and if faces could speak, I was sure hers would have repeated what I said on the day I sold my soul. Better him than anyone else. Yet, the devilish dark elf wasn¡¯t done. He buzzed around the Death Jarl like a fly, leaving gold inlays in the wake of wherever he floated. When he was done, Zaraxus appeared like a posh skeleton of black metal and gold. On its back was the same leafless tree inlaid on the undead¡¯s sternum. His teeth were lined with gold to resemble gums, and even more was set atop his eye sockets, making them appear as brows made of divine clouds.


    Along his ribs, hands, feet- his entire body, gold sat everywhere. But again, the devilish dark elf was not yet done with his creation. With a wave and a mass of wispy darkness, a pile of flesh and meat in all stages of decomposition splattered against the floor. The vile stench wafted over us at once, forcing a few to shield their noses and look away while Amun simply motioned Zaraxus to the pile. ¡°Eat.¡± He commanded. And watching the Death Jarl do so was gruesome.


    With two mighty stomps of his metal-plated feet, the undead was in the center of the pile, giving us a proper disgusting sight. Like a barbaric orc gorging itself on goblin brains, handfuls of meat were nearly crushed to paste on its way to his maw, increasing the stench tenfold. Yet, it was nigh impossible for me to turn away, for each bite brought a new change to the undead¡¯s body.


    The answer to where the flesh was going was granted by the sudden filling of the gaps between the bones in his forearm. Bright red and pink, they were, and they grew thicker with each passing bite, eventually shrouding his bones in thick coils of muscle before a wrapping of skin covered them entirely.


    When the pile was no more than a pool of blood and bone dust, Zaraxus stood to slap his feet against the stone towards Amun, sending soft echoes through both the chemical plant and my mind with each deliberate step.


    He was suddenly much more solid than he was just moments ago when his metallic bones breathed the air of this chamber. His robe, once loose and flowing against his bones like a specter¡¯s aura, was fittingly filled by the girth of his arms and the absurdity of his broad chest. His face, once a hollow shell of bone, now retained the chiseled features and dauntless grimace of a foul king of legendary proportions.


    Eyes burning with the fires of undead, Zaraxus the Death Jarl bored through each of our souls. His skin, ripening into a frosted blue color with each passing second, peeled back to reveal his blackened teeth and gilded gums in a wicked smile of anticipation. And, sensing our awed despair, his chest began rising and falling in rhythmic laughter, pouring an air as cold as a white dragon¡¯s breath into the room.


    This next phase of training was going to be difficult.

 215 - The Crucible

    Toril O¡¯Connell.


    ***


    I knew this day would come. And though I was well prepared for it, it was unlike anything I could have foreseen.


    Our return from Chaulort brought on a new phase of training. That of military science and tactics, and as Amun¡¯s chosen knight, I had no choice but to step up to the plate of leadership. He prepared me well for this day. Thus it went starkly smoother than it had at Corvus Tower all those years ago.


    In a way, it was not unlike back then. With his ability to impose himself in any situation, Amun organized a training regiment within a pre-established course of study, one he paid no regard to. Unlike then, however, our days and nights were a constant blur of struggle and hardships.


    After a mere four hours of sleep, we rose with the sun to conduct PT under a gravitational field strong enough to make the heartiest of us suffer. Our combat training continued as before. Only, we were properly challenged by the now-speaking shadows whenever we weren¡¯t overwhelmed by the thousands of dark dwarven shadows piling over each other to get at us.


    For half of the week, during the night, we still followed the lifestyles our classes demanded of us. I still trained with my axe daily, augmenting it as much as possible with my Weight Magic to increase my strength. We took care of or rode the wide range of dead beasts Amun had risen. We repeatedly confirmed our convictions with ourselves before lashing out to smite all manner of beasts with every ounce of our power.


    Each remaining hour of each day, besides that of leisure and rest, was my domain. Everything from the field exercises to the classroom studies was organized, taught, and supervised by me, just as Amun said I would all those years ago.


    They were first taught the importance of parade and drill and learned what discipline truly was by spending hours each day marching and practicing the movements that would represent our Legions without words. Not until every movement was synchronized, every voice was matched in tone, did the drilling cease. But not entirely. They were then taught how to teach their subordinates to march. And more, how to survive.


    Throughout the entirety of that month-long endeavor, Amun and the other Artificers went around to each of us to have us design our weapons and uniforms. Even I, who possessed the Storm Thief and its matching armor, had to spend hours designing wear for every occasion or environment. A template for every dress, including the materials we preferred to wear, what damage types we wished our clothes would have resistances or immunities to, what features the garbs would have, and so on and so on.


    Those lists were promptly sent to Giorno in the hopes that prototypes would be finished by the time Amun learned to enchant. In the meantime, the candidates were taught how to maintain their gear. Or, it would be more apt to say they were given visceral lessons on what would happen should their equipment be unkempt. To that end, our gear was purposefully sabotaged throughout our field training, and at random. The result was a constant checking and rechecking of their and their comrades¡¯ equipment, even while we were preparing to or retreating from our patrols.


    Patrolling. Or, as I saw it, looking for a fight. That word was the basis of the entire second phase. An operation that created a mental foundation capable of supporting the fourteen battle drills we were to build atop it.


    Reacting to ranged fire was the first and foremost. An act that required a squad to take pop shots from afar to suppress the enemy while another squad flanked from the sides, above, or below. Attacking as both a squad and platoon followed as the second drill. Coincidentally, it wound up being one of the longest for the candidates to master. With the endless variation of affinities and abilities, each group had to rely on teamwork and experience to yield the most use out of their ever-changing squads; but eventually, they mastered it and went on to learn how to break contact and retreat safely before moving on to master ambush reactions. And then the fun things began.


    The fifth drill was to knock out a bunker. A task that many carried out using sheer ingenuity to render a bunker useless. Enter and clear a room followed. An operation that required finesse and quick reaction times. Amun¡¯s undead made a mock town and populated it as a place overrun with hostiles. Day in and day out, we¡¯d maneuver across the city, entering buildings in a systematic order to ascertain who was a friend and who was the foe in an instant before low-powered spells, knives, and bolts went flying.


    Much the same skills were required for the next drill, enter and clear a trench. However, the next required more knowledge. It was to breach a mined wire obstacle. In other words, clear a field of traps. The skill was commonly known to be a Rogue specialty, but I couldn¡¯t argue against the claim that everyone needed to know how to spot and disarm the things themselves. As always though, Amun taught us much more than that. He taught us how to investigate traps, and how to determine the ways they worked so they could be repurposed to our means or perhaps be improved.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    That was the eighth battle drill, marking the end of what we considered the safer drills in hindsight, for the later drills required Amun to aim his absurdly powerful magic at us.


    Drill nine was reacting to indirect fire. Lightning and shadow bolts were used for the drill. For the first few minutes at least. Eventually, he started lobbing boulders at us with his gravity and laughed maniacally whenever they landed too close for comfort. Drill Ten: React to a chemical attack, was worse. With a single inhaled breath, he blew noxious gasses across the lands. Then gave us masks and protective suits before telling us to march through a field of hostile undead. The unlucky ones were those who were immune to poison. Thinking themselves safe, they inhaled deep whiffs of the stuff, only to find his darkness had augmented it to infect them with blinding fear. Thus we all learned just how horrendously uncomfortable those suits were. Carbon-laced things, able to neutralize many toxins or poisons and cause just as many chaffed rashes in exchange.


    My only solace was that Jaimess, being partly carbon, still had to wear one. I gained some comfort with the next drill though. React to an explosion. Being immune to shockwaves and kinetic energy respectively left both me and Ed laughing alongside Amun at the flying bodies of our comrades. But of course, he still found ways to make us suffer with his gravity.


    Like everyone else, the last three operations left me in a state of awe. Mounted operations, they were called, with the twelfth through fourteenth being dismount, mount, and perform actions while mounted respectively. In this regard, a ¡®mount¡¯ referred to any vehicle, either living or engineered. While the same in theory, they were wildly different in practice. A horse would never run into a wall, for example.


    For weeks we trained in those drills. We patrolled tirelessly throughout the day and night on foot, on the backs of undead beasts, or huddled inside the growling cages of moving steel Amun colloquially referred to as vehicles. Each day, the squad and platoon leaders were chosen by me or Amun or both and evaluated by everyone from the Doppelgangers to the undead. And through this continuing throughout the breadth of training, the candidates were taught how to lead.


    The following phase taught us how to teach. And in the latter half of that month, our teachings grew to encompass extreme survival. On Amun¡¯s order, the candidates- all of us- were captured by the undead, pulled into the Shadow Realm, and kicked out in some other remote area of the Wilds to be tortured and interrogated. Our Doppelgangers, close companions always, turned against us for that long week and a half. They used our deepest secrets as weapons. Exploited our insecurities. They pushed our buttons while Zaraxus and his minions pulled fingernails and broke bones. And then, we were presented with an opportunity to escape. An obvious route to freedom that even the heartiest- or dumbest of us- couldn¡¯t ignore.


    We were meant to take it of course. All so we could be chased and hunted, and through that, learn how to evade capture and resist the temptation of a painless future. But it was more than that. It also served as a grim reminder to all.


    There was no betraying the Legions.


    I can honestly say it was one of the most difficult things I¡¯ve had yet to endure, just as Amun said. But the worst was yet to come.


    After our escape, we were to rendezvous for retaliation. That was to say, a culmination exercise unlike any other. The Crucible, Amun called it, but it was no different from the long war we had against the Necro Army on paper. In reality, it was a glimpse into how we would operate in the future.


    Just like he did when we slayed the Necro King¡¯s storm giant, we were crammed into hollowed boulders and hurled across the skies. Unlike then, however, the boulders broke apart at the zenith of their paths, separating into squat chunks of earth that landed a candidate safely in a lonely region of the wilds. There was one for each of us, a zone of exploration no smaller than an Odissian county, filled with not only monsters but undead as well.


    We spent the entirety of that final month living rough while attempting to achieve objectives that varied for each of us. Hunting. Fighting. Sabotaging. Maneuvering, in my case, closer to the undead stronghold throughout the day and night. Our communications ran through our clones. Through them, we were able to outmaneuver and close in on our objects in a systematic fashion, ¡®raising¡¯ any undead we felled as our comrades and utilizing whatever resources they dropped for ourselves. Though, like in the mock town, not everyone we encountered was hostile. Some undead acted as citizens or, in some cases, entire families needing saving. Others, on rare occasions, offered their services or gave us information in exchange for our help. But in all cases, we were judged on how we efficiently we uplifted, destroyed, or otherwise interacted with them.


    The beginning of the last week of our studies marked our return to Noctis Reach. I had never seen so big a smile on Amun¡¯s face as I did that day. He beamed at each of our sullied faces with unbridled pride, a rarity for one such as him. He repeatedly congratulated us on our efforts before we feasted and bathed and partied for what felt like two tendays straight. But the next day, we were out on the shores of the lake, conducting our final task. Operator licensing.


    Like virtually everything else, the final versions of the steel carriages, wheeled cages, motorized boats, buzzing planes, and other vehicles had to wait until enchantments were a part of our repertoire before they were released. But that didn¡¯t stop Amun from creating their non-magical counterparts and having us learn to use them. A seemingly daunting task, but a fairly simple one. Still, though, we provided far too much entertainment for Amun and his undead dwarves. We crashed and burned what felt to be thousands of times; but eventually, we got the hang of ¡®driving¡¯ within the week and were told to look forward to upgraded locomotive aids in the near future. And now, after that arduous journey, the coveted time was finally upon us.


    It was time to evolve.

 216 - Graduation

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Man, time flies when we¡¯re having fun.¡±


    I turned my eyes away from the rows upon rows of neatly arranged chests and bags to snicker at my Doppelganger. ¡°I know that¡¯s right. Though¡­.¡± My voice and eyes drifted into silence among the constant bangs and rings panging through the workshops of Noctis Reach. Either from the expanses below, the prospects of the near future, or the hundreds of undead dwarves scattered about the place, the place felt rather small. Cramped, even.


    Despite the upper floors remaining as sparse as they¡¯d been for the last six months, the same was felt for the rooms above. The vast annexes and alcoves that would soon become portions of our towers felt like broom closets and alleys from the sudden return of the candidates from their crucible. Even then though, they spent half of our final week of the school year recuperating and lounging about within the tower while I continued to toy with the tons upon metric tons of materials, metals, and gems sent from even further below by my Doppelganger, who spent the last three months at work overseeing the budding community.


    In yet another community, set in the next Realm over, Giorno and Letta had been hard at work tailoring load-outs, uniforms, and the personal wear designed by the now-Captains. Through their link with me, their Doppelgangers were able to make a ¡®handoff¡¯ through the darkness to exchange artisanal goods and garbs for information and Darkworld metals.


    As for me, I spent whatever free time I had during the crucible remaking the Legions¡¯ standard-issue items and forging the officers¡¯ arms out of adamantine or mithral. In doing so, I learned quite a bit about the Darkworld metals from the undead dwarves. Mithral in particular was non-ferrous and as strong if not slightly stronger than steel, but significantly lighter. That much I already knew. What was unknown to me, however, was that it needed some type of mana application to be formed into the complex shapes that armor required, and more so, the metal was just as magically conductive as Carbury¡¯s horn. It could be outright infused with magical energy, granting it effects said to be more versatile than enchantments.


    The horn of a unicorn. That, I learned, was the catalyst that birthed Zaraxus¡¯ magical weapon, not my arcana as Forgruna assumed. And mithral, being the same, meant that I or anyone else could do the same with theirs. But only during the time of forging. In the same way adamantine couldn¡¯t be reformed once it was quenched- in magma, might I add- mithral couldn¡¯t be magically altered after taking on the form of a weapon or piece of armor. But that made it no less fascinating.


    For the most part, however, I let that knowledge fester within my mind until I found my way to Bakewia. Only one set out of hundreds was imbued with magic. One weapon and a suit of armor held the essence of the Mani, though it wasn¡¯t placed in the pile of gear meant for its owner. Instead, it was sent into the darkening sky to be seized by the moon and carried away as if it marked the end of this officer candidacy course.


    With its disappearance came the start of the festivities and the oncomings of a new chapter. The chapter I¡¯d been looking forward to the most since I was born into this fantastical universe. So without wasting any more time, I excitedly gathered up the stacks of equipment, then filled my voice with power before I Bamfed myself to the main foyer.


    ¡°Congratulations to you, Captains of the Legio Noctis!¡± My voice echoed through the open archways, startling all but six of them to attention. With Toril to my right and Jaimess to my left, Roheisa and Lucia off to their sides, and Ed to my front, I gazed upon the bodies of human and halfling and half-orc alike and felt the burning fires of excitement blossom within my heart. ¡°Captains unlike any other!¡± I continued with the dramatic flair of a great general. ¡°The first Captains of many, exalted above all others. Whether you grow to lead one of the Legions or retire in the capital, forever and always, that will remain true.


    ¡°Now then, behold your rewards!¡± I Bamfed their equipment load-outs above their heads in a shower of moonlight and twilight speckles. ¡°The first reward of many is that of your pay. Seven hundred fifty gold a week for the last six months amounts to thirteen thousand five hundred gold a piece.


    ¡°That includes you.¡± I grinned at those beside me, then ignored the abject reactions by letting the bars, nuggets, and Nox-minted coins detach from the masses of material above and flow into the umbral pockets kept ajar by their Doppelgangers.


    They were kept open even after the flowing gold ceased, as various clothes and tents and other bits and bobs fell in after them once they were ¡®summoned¡¯ by my calls. They were all un-enchanted things, but things they¡¯d need nonetheless. Watches, cooking equipment, rucksacks, ponchos, shovels, stools, and the other things Giorno made for the Legions. Things that I couldn¡¯t wait to upgrade in just over a month. Or, in some cases, things I did not need to.


    ¡°More will follow. Until then, however, I have but three tasks for you,¡± I said once the excited murmurs ceased. ¡°The first and most pertinent is to form your parties. Start with a large party of individuals, and remember, we may be working backward but we¡¯re recruiting our staff officers first. A future Executive Officer and Marshal. An Engineer, a Civil Chief, a General, a Witch, and some type of Mage. Plus two individuals for every unit formed beneath you. Worry not about their skills, they can be educated and trained. Their character is what¡¯s most important. Pick those whose morals, values, and beliefs best align with yours.


    ¡°Second, keep your towers as just that.¡± I continued. ¡°Use them as your mobile homes or personal retreats or whatever else you like. I¡¯ll give you another Wise Rock to make your cities or groves or whatever else you intend to make for your citizens, and later, another one to build into your headquarters. One for you. One for your citizens. And one for your Legionaries.¡± I reiterated. ¡°Other than that, rank up as much as you can in your classes; and as always, have fun.¡±


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s curtains for the tower then?¡± Zarzok chortled derisively with a gesture to the many floors above. ¡°So grandiose, only to last a mere six months. Such a shame¡±


    ¡°A matter of perspective.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Like us, the tower will soon undergo change. It will be split at the seams to remain with the Legionaries who call it home.¡±


    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s checkmate.¡± The strifling sighed in defeat before taking to the upper floors. ¡°All there is to do now is play the waiting game I suppose.¡±


    I looked out to the vibrant moon and chuckled. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t take long.¡±


    After dawdling for a bit, I arrived in the main salon to hear Scarlett¡¯s voice rising above the general ambiance. ¡°I wonder what classes everyone will get.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll get what we get!¡± Elurial chided with a warm laugh. ¡°I¡¯m more interested in what our towers will look like.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll be extensions of our rooms.¡± Rommy pointed out in that boyishly condescending tone of his. ¡°And our rooms are essentially extensions of our classes, which are extensions of our lifestyles.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true.¡± I absentmindedly added, if only to prevent an argument. Instead, a small period of silence ensued. A small and insignificant one, but one that changed the tide of the conversation for the better.


    ¡°All this gold! Hahaha!"Rhody¡¯s maniacal cackle cut through the silence. ¡°I wonder what kind of minions I¡¯ll have!¡±


    ¡°Minions?¡± Scarlett nearly gagged. ¡°Is that what you think of your followers?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be makin¡¯ subguilds, lady.¡± Rhody snickered without as much as turning her way. ¡°I¡¯ll be making a thieves guild. Minions is what thieves have.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not wrong,¡± Winston interjected, surprisingly. ¡°Those who join our parties, even the civilians who live in our territories are akin to vassals serving a¡­ a royal. We¡¯re seeking those who can fight with or for us or¡­ people with interesting talents. Artists or bards to tell our stories. At least, that¡¯s what I intend to do¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I want too!¡± Samson slammed his mug down voraciously. ¡°A bard to sing of my glory! And maybe someone to make me ale.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± Els shouted from behind his mug. ¡°I for one¡¯m gonna find a good dwarven brewer to make me some¡¯a the finest ale in all the lands. And maybe an orc butcher to teach¡®im the finer arts of dwarven cuisine.¡± He muttered, scratching his great beard.


    ¡°What about you?¡± Scarlett asked me just after I found my seat.


    ¡°Well.¡± I sighed to think. Then simply started thinking aloud. ¡°My party will have to be filled with people who are immune to necrotic energy. To that end, I¡¯ll probably have to make a few pacts. I¡¯m thinking of having a bard, for urban reconnaissance. A wizard or an alchemist to buff my undead. A druid to maybe manage the menagerie as they grow and to converse with them. A ranger and or a rogue to scout. And maybe a fighter to¡­ well, fight.


    "I am a caster after all.¡± I gave her a charming smile, just before a distinctive whoosh of air caught my ears.


    ¡°Pardon the intrusion!¡±


    Collectively, we turned to see Doyle and Olga standing triumphantly in the archway with a gesture for us to follow. They said nothing more, did nothing more. They didn¡¯t have to. The anticipation of the coming tide drove us all, even me, to swarm into the nearest gateway. Letting the excitement build, they led us at a pace that slowed and slowed further upon entering the central hub at the base of the mountainous trunk, and even slower upon our ascension.


    Finally, after what felt like hours, we arrived in the same room that started this subjectively long chapter of my objectively long life. A round room of wood grain walls and marbled floors and a central grand fountain splayed in amber light. But instead of tables, a seemingly endless row of chairs skirted the wall. They reclined at an angle, with prominent armrests like the vector chairs found in the torch ships across the Sol System, but made of the same glowing vines coiled throughout the ceiling.


    There was not a morsel to be seen. Yet, I found my mouth inexplicably watering the moment I reclined in the nearest seat. And not just me. We all were ravished. Everyone darted towards the nearest seat, paying little regard for any notion of class, social group, or party. And Zorrenor loved every bit of it.


    The cursed bastard watched silently, smiling widely until every pair of eyes facing him grew visibly impatient. Then, he spread his clawed hands out wide and bellowed. ¡°Welcome back, Pages of Class Nine-Nine-Nine! But Pages no more after this day!¡± His rotted lips curled back to expose fiendish teeth. ¡°Your long-awaited ritual is upon you.¡± He bowed graciously, then rose to line his finger with the bridge of his nose. ¡°But first,¡± he growled, ¡°is the task of determining the best and brightest among you. These ten are those who will find themselves attending the Guildmaster Course after your third year of study here at the Bodhi Tree. In tenth place, garnering ten-thousand points, is Zeke Silva!¡±


    ¡®Seriously?¡¯ I scoffed in surprise. However, I soon realized that he must not have tried, or rather, tried his damnedest to land precisely where he wanted to be. ¡°Interesting.¡±


    ¡°Edward Pascal, in ninth place!¡± Zorrenor continued. Then went on down the line with Jaimess, Winston, Lucia, Roheisa, Zarzok, Toril, Lance, and of course¡­ ¡°In first place, garnering forty-six thousand seven hundred eleven points is Amun!¡± He sounded almost dejected with the declaration, and I then noticed the ceiling above writhing to impart a sealed scroll onto the ten of us.


    "Congratulations to the ten of you. And congratulations to you all!¡± Zorrenor bowed to us a final time, then rose with a grandiose wave that sent the vines above into a frenzy.


    In our hands, they dropped a familiar item. A strange marble with an open face on the rough surface, though it was smooth against my skin as I rolled it between my fingers. Within seconds, the pebble malformed to snake around my left bicep, releasing a strange sense of contentment in the back of my mind. However, I was quickly distracted by Zorrenor¡¯s voice spreading through the hall, seemingly causing the vines to shudder in ecstasy.


    ¡°By completing your ritual, you move from Pages to Novices in your favored class. Mind you, however, the Mystic Ranks known by the Guild Associations are different from the class levels. Thus it is not being promoted in your class that makes you an Adept of your specialty, but ownership of a wise rock pebble. In this.¡± Zorrenor gestured to the rocks many of us were still fawning over. You will leave this campus being recognized by the Guild Associations as Adepts in your class. Thus you can and are encouraged to form parties of your own.¡± He smiled warmly and clapped gently. ¡°And should you obtain a divine tree seed, you can call yourselves a Master.


    ¡°For now, however, you will eat the fruits of your labor and meet with your instructors for guidance, thus concluding the ritual. When you leave this hall, you will be free to wear what you please and can migrate to the southern kingdoms if you so wish. Otherwise, you may continue exploring the Wilds or even take the Bifrost to Polaris for your vacation. But enough dawdling.¡± He clapped once more, bringing our gazes to the vibrant mass of vines still writhing above.


    ¡°The brooding ground of the Divine Aphids is what sits above you,¡± he said. ¡°The Aphids produce the mutation in your fruit that allows you to make sense of the changes you¡¯re to undergo and what is required to progress in your classes. Simultaneously, the construct will allow us to see who has access to what Classes so the relative instructors can know who they can expect.


    ¡°Now!¡± He waved a final time, creating an array of falling vines to befall from the ceiling. ¡°Bear the fruits of your labor!¡±

 217 - Divine Ritual

    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°Now, bear the fruits of your labor!¡±


    That declaration was like the mallet of a war drum banging against my heart. My brow had long since been smeared with sweat that persisted on beading over my eyes every half minute. I was sure my entire body was drenched by now, but I couldn¡¯t pry my focus off of the half-drow-devil that turned the Bodhi Tree on its crown since his arrival.


    We migrated to the observation room adjacent to the ritual hall just after the headmaster''s declaration. Amun was reclined on a ritual throne like all the others. Laid on his back to face the writhing mass of vines above.


    They twisted and coiled and stretched, those vines, forming fifty-five arcane stalactites that leaked the sap of the divine tree.


    Drip.


    A drop of the bluest liquid imaginable fell onto their brows, invoking the sensations that remained in my mind to this day.


    Drip.


    The pulses and waves of¡­ something spread through both bodies, spiritual and physical, before it regressed, compacted into a single point on the brow, and took form to fall upwards into the stalactite from which it came.


    Drip.


    And then they appeared, fifty-five bugs made of an arcane light, crawling over the vines to burrow into the melons, berries, or other fruits readying to fall into open hands.


    They were fruits like any other and simultaneously fruits unseen in the history of the realms. There were two mushrooms, the ¡®fruit¡¯ of witches, but one, in particular, was wrapped in silk and seemed to have similar attributes to that of a berry, the fruit of druids. Other fruits looked like hearts, the fruits of barbarians, while others appeared as apples, the fruit of artificers. Some had electric sparks crackling over their skin. Others were encased in molten metal or wings or fire or¡­ light. But one eye-catching fruit was larger than all the others. As big as a durian, it was; and darker than the mind could make sense of. Like a blank spot on reality surrounded by a divine crown of dull yellow light. It stole the air from our very lungs.


    Except that of the students.


    Except that of Amun¡¯s.


    His fruit was larger than his head. Twice as large, but he pulled it to his maw and bit into its flesh without as much as looking at it.


    He bit. And slowly, he pulled it away to chew. Then, carefully, reeled it back in for another bite.


    Slowly, carefully, he ate and ate. Savoring its taste, it seemed. Holding it atop his tongue until the flesh melted down his throat. Compelling him to reel the fruit back in, place another piece in his mouth, and chew.


    Slowly. As if he were analyzing it with a fresh mind on every bite. Carefully studying each change the succulent flesh brought about his body. Observing how it reacted to the energy inside him. How he reacted to the energy inside it. All but reformatting his assumptions and biases each time he reached out, placed another piece in his mouth, and crunched.


    I recalled the feeling I felt long ago. The strong pulses within before the mana around me took shape into words that promised a way to power. I recalled it all so vividly, despite the starkly different scene unfolding before us now.


    Through the enchanted glass before us, we saw an aura around their bodies denoting them of the classes they were able to obtain and nothing more. For the most part, the results were as we expected. The vast majority of them were fighters or barbarians, with only a few minor surprises. At least from us. As one, nearly every pair of eyes among the students bulged wide and fell on Amun, surrounded by a mass of shadow that was not unlike the aura of another class. Though we all were fairly certain it was Amun¡¯s Sorcery we and we alone were observing. Then, the darkness suddenly brightened to surround his body in the same golden radiance that crowned his fruit. Golden and gentle, it was. And immensely powerful. It was almost¡­ divine.


    Or rather, it was.


    ¡°It was just as he said,¡± Zeff backpedaled into his chair, muttering. ¡°He¡¯s a Cleric! And,¡± he turned to the two pure vampires, glowing with a similar, albeit significantly weaker radiance after consuming their radiant figs, ¡°they are as well.¡±


    A sudden yelp in a foreign but melodic tongue brought our attention first to Eiriol nearly planting her beaming face into the window, then to Amun, covered in the ethereal flame-like aura that denoted him as a monk.


    After that came a similar yelp in a similar tongue, but from Zoop, as Amun soon took on the silvery-white hue of an artificer. And then¡­ it faded back to black.


    In a way that I haven¡¯t seen since he met with Emperor Morningstar, Amun scowled at¡­ something. He leaned forward in his seat, frowning while his eyes flickered back and forth, over and over, and then he threw himself back in frustration.


    ¡°What the fuck?!¡±


    It wasn¡¯t a murmur, it was nearly a full-on shout. An exclamation of anger that spread an iron grip across the lot of our throats to silence our mouths. Unable to speak our minds, our thoughts degraded into the worst-case scenario. My mind conjured flashes of an inescapable wave of lightning or darkness or death. All of ours did, it seemed. Except those beyond the glass. The Pages-no-more stared at him but with nothing more than surprise or mild shock. Most of them didn¡¯t even pay it any mind, and of course, Amun didn¡¯t either. He simply reclined further into his chair and took on a distant stare as if nothing happened at all. And thus, so too did the majority of his peers.


    Or rather, his subordinates.


    No agreements or orders were given or made, but we collectively gave them a few minutes to peruse through their new knowledge after that incident. I, for one, was grateful for the reprieve. And I was even more grateful that I could stand back and watch the class instructors enter the hall to tell them where to be after their month off. Except for, as always, the Rogues. They had only a sign telling them of the rules and where to be and nothing more.


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    ¡°So, I guess that¡¯s it then?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I nodded to Zeff without as much as looking down at him. ¡°Finally, I¡¯m free.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± Came a stifled sigh. "When are you out?¡±


    I nearly slapped myself upon hearing the melancholy in his voice. A pain that had been rasping his breath since he arrived in this grand hall. I almost didn¡¯t want to meet his eyes. But I knew that would have only been more painful for both of us.


    ¡°Tonight,¡± I said softly.


    ¡°We¡¯re, uh.¡± Olga took a cautious step forward. ¡°Once our offices are cleaned out. Then we say¡­ goodbye. To the Headmaster.¡± She stepped forward again with a quivering lip. It seized as if it were fighting to say more, but Olga held back and rested a gentle hand on the halfling''s shoulder.


    He returned the gesture by placing his palm on top of hers. Then, with a meek smile, he grabbed mine and began walking towards the exit. ¡°I¡¯m sure you wouldn¡¯t mind some assistance?¡± He stifled a warm laugh. And kept up the attitude for as long as it took to pack up my and Olga¡¯s offices and say our final words before our departure. A testament to his character and then some.


    He took it well, though I knew it would be hard on him in the days to come. Still, though, I almost felt guilty for not sharing their sadness. For I knew Zeff Yurich, and I knew his decision to stay at the Bodhi Tree wouldn¡¯t last long. A year would pass and he¡¯d have put in his resignation letters and, if not returned to us, then moved on elsewhere. There was no more reason for him to stay here. He, however, wouldn¡¯t acknowledge that until he felt it for himself. Thus I knew this was not a goodbye. At least for him.


    Cleaning out my office and classroom was a much more difficult endeavor. Though it was sparse, each desk held the memory of a dozen students who developed their skills under my tutelage. So many words, pictures, and diagrams had been written on that board, imparting the same information a dozen times over. Each training alcove rekindled the awe of witnessing so many types of magic being used in such unique ways it never ceased to blow my mind.


    I saw the ghostly visages of students long past as I took my final walk through those grand halls. The conversations I¡¯ve heard, the friendships and hateful rivalries I¡¯ve seen come to rise, they seemed to cement into my memories as I passed, removing them from the plane on which they were formed so that I could take them with me on my journey into the pale light.


    It almost seemed impossible to think I would never see the tree again. It was a blot in the sky. A perpetual entity that rose to the heavens, forming a living beacon for everything on this side of the mountain. It could even be seen on the far side, in some places. But to think it would one day disappear from my sight entirely was almost inconceivable. Just like the moon.


    It was now a constant in the sky. Full and round, it was, bathing the Bodhi Tree in the divine pale light beheld by its creator and thus creating the perfect mental image of Copper Party¡¯s courtyard.


    The memories of that place- of this Bodhi Tree, I would hold onto forever.


    ¡°I started this year thinking it would be like all the others.¡±


    I didn¡¯t turn toward her in the slightest. Not until Olga Godzuik stood beside me and turned her gaze up to the Tree did I peer at her through my peripherals and see the proverbial weight lifted from her shoulders, belying the evident sadness in her eyes.


    ¡°Never would I have thought I¡¯d be standing here.¡± She chortled softly. ¡°At least not this soon.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I lowered my eyes with a long sigh. Then started the arduous walk. ¡°There¡¯s only one thing left to do.¡±


    As promised, we found Headmaster Zorrenor Knagh in the ritual room. Though he seemed an entirely different entity. His now dull brown skin was glazed over with sweat that appeared more as mucus than anything else. He stood hunched in the center of the room, yet discomfortingly craned his neck back to look upon the inert mass of vines above.


    ¡°Ah.¡± He wheezed and raised a hand upon noticing our entry, ceasing our footsteps entirely. ¡°Doyle Wolfgang, Olga Godzuik, thank you for all you¡¯ve done for the Bodhi Tree. You are always welcome back, be it to visit or otherwise.¡±


    There was so much I wanted to say at that moment. I wanted to thank him for the opportunity he gave me. For the wisdom he imparted to me. I wanted to make promises of seeing him again, despite my knowing how unlikely that was. Above all, I wanted to inquire about his health. He looked as if he was sick, or worse, dying. Regrettably, however, there was nothing we could do but put the thoughts behind us and leave after some short words. In return, new thoughts spurred in my mind. A sudden notion that the Bodhi Tree wasn¡¯t as permanent as I thought it to be.


    That thought lingered until a lumbering sound caught my ear. It loomed from further up the hall. From the entrance. Thundering steps like that of an ogre or a mound giant. Or perhaps even a troll.


    ¡°Ah, Doyle!¡± The cackling voice streaked through the air, inducing a series of uncontrollable winces that lasted until Titus Zlock loomed into view. ¡°I see your timing is impeccable as always.¡± He calmly sneered. ¡°I put in my letters also. So I¡¯m glad we could say our goodbyes face to face.¡±


    ¡°Letters?¡± I dared ask.


    ¡°Aye. My resignation letter to the Bodhi Tree. ¡± He brushed past us, growling. ¡°And my notice of retirement to Stellaris.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I see.¡± I nodded, though I continued walking without as much as a peek behind me. ¡°Congratulations, Titus.¡±


    His only response was a growl before the great doors of the ritual hall echoed shut behind us. Simultaneously, the lesser doors leading to the main courtyard swung open to slap us in the face with the brisk airs of freedom.


    ¡°There are few things as dangerous as an egotistical man with both a sense of justice and wounded pride.¡± Olga lamented with a deep breath.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I almost snorted, remembering the small outburst that almost sent us into a panic. ¡°But a slighted God makes even that look like a child''s tantrum.¡±


    She stepped in to face me directly and flicked the bulbous orbs of her eyes between mine. ¡°Is that what you truly believe? Is that where you¡¯re truly going.¡±


    ¡°You know the answers to those questions, Olga.¡± Slowly, I held out my hand and returned her intent stare. ¡°Are you coming?¡±


    ¡°If¡­ if I can live.¡± She nodded almost fearfully.


    ¡°Then let us go see if you can live, shall we?¡±


    I didn¡¯t give her a choice. Or rather, I simply dropped my hand and turned, leaving the choice entirely up to her. Whether she followed or stepped in another direction to find a new path was her decision to make. Like Amun, I could only make the offer and continue on my chosen path without looking back. However, when I stepped through the portal and arrived inside the absurd tower, I wasn¡¯t surprised to find her beside me.


    He was gathered before his subordinates on the base level in the grand, open foyer, waiting silently among the warm welcomes and sudden cheers until Olga and I descended to stand before him.


    ¡°I wish to join you,¡± I shouted before my former students could inquire. ¡°Not as an instructor. As a Legionary.¡±


    A sudden rise of murmurs erupted from the majority of them. Mostly, surprisingly, about who I would work for and how I would be trained. But Amun broke the chatter with but one sentence. ¡°Name the price of your service to the Legio Noctis.¡±


    ¡°The truth.¡± Came my simple reply.


    ¡°That requires you to become an officer.¡± Amun¡¯s face contorted into a knowingly wicked smile. ¡°Are you willing to endure six months of darkness for the truth?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± His smile widened as he turned away. ¡°But you¡¯re gonna have to take a vacation first. And while you¡¯re at it, find another ambition.¡±


    ¡°Another ambition¡­¡± I began to mutter, then threw it all aside and bolstered my voice with mana. ¡°I choose to serve the Legio Noctis of my own volition. If only so that I may walk under the silver light and bear witness to the change you¡¯ll bring to the realms.¡±


    Suddenly, Amun¡¯s smile turned from wicked to benevolent, and simultaneously, I found my hand reaching to accept his open palm as he said. ¡°Very well.¡±


    His agreement, his words- if they were even his- echoed from the furthest reaches of somewhere while my mind went elsewhere. High above and far away from my body I was swept and suspended in place for but a single moment, giving me an unparalleled view of an almost unending vista surrounded by a never-ending sea until suddenly, I was standing before a God once again. Stuck in place with a gaping wide mouth and an outstretched hand while Olga¡¯s voice pulled me from my stupor.


    ¡°I just want to live. I don¡¯t want to fight. I don¡¯t want to join the legions. I want to retire and live in peace. Do I have to sell my soul to do that?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Amun¡¯s head shook slowly, smiled, and looked out to the moon. ¡°This tower will be changing soon. You can live in what it¡¯s to become. Just give me a few hours to make it.

 218 - Scouting

    ¡®Pain.


    What is pain?


    Is it the torture of the flesh? Broken bones, lacerated skin, or punctured organs? The feeling that reminds us that we live, yet births a fearful obsession over death?


    Is it a matter of the heart? A lover who left one for another? A loved one dying? A friend turned enemy or vice versa? The intangible suffering that oftentimes drives us to throw our hands up and run away from the lifelong fight that is life?


    Is it the destruction of one''s mental foundation? The sudden epiphany that everything one believed in was a lie, thus creating a new foundation built on mental torture over the painful truth?


    To that end, what does it mean to have a tolerance for pain?


    Is it to have a mind and heart as callous as a warrior''s body? To feel nothing in the face of suffering, be it one''s own or another''s; tangible or intangible?


    Is it that, or is it to accept pain stoically, like an unwavering tree in an unyielding storm?


    Pain is existence itself, in my opinion.


    A twig snapping under the sole of one''s foot induces pain, albeit so little that it¡¯s hardly a thought. But it¡¯s there. And should its frequency spike, that is when we believe in it.


    Being aware of someone¡¯s little lie or even their honest mistake is pain. Pain masked as a disappointment. And should its frequency spike, that mask becomes a scowl of resentment.


    The injustices and incredulities we turn a blind eye to are pain. In our daily lives, it is seen. And through whatever means, it is justified or rendered invisible to our eyes. But should its frequency spike¡­


    To that end, to have a tolerance for pain means to embrace all forms of joy and hardship without bias. More so, it means to become neither callous to it nor resentful of it. Like fearlessness, to be without pain is akin to acceptance.


    I had long since been prepared for a lifetime of suffering. Yet, I was still intolerant of pain. And it would be some time before I could accept it without bias. But once my flesh had been rent through, my heart had been torn asunder, and my mental foundations were shattered, I truly became wise, for it was then that I found myself unwavering in the face of the unyielding storm of joyous pain we called life. And those who are unwavering in the face of such things are the most sagely of all.¡¯


    S.S.S. C1 V.3


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    ***


    1 year ago.


    ***


    ¡°You¡¯re my oldest friend, you know.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but give Amun an incredulous look. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t exactly say, friend.¡± I found myself laughing. ¡°I¡¯m your servant. Your vassal.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± Amun admitted. And strangely I felt a pang deep in my chest. Though I didn¡¯t show it. I waited with a face of ice for him to turn his dark eyes to mine. ¡°But.¡± He paused to stare. ¡°You are the ones I¡¯ve allowed to grow closest to me. Vassal or friend, the title doesn¡¯t matter much to me. You all are special to me all the same. That said.¡± He turned away to sigh, and it was then that I noticed a deep sadness in his eyes. Almost like¡­ regret.


    ¡°I have a job for you,¡± he said. ¡°One that is difficult and harsh, but one that I believe to be necessary for the future of Maru.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± I quickly asked.


    ¡°First.¡± He bared his palm. ¡°I need you to understand that you can deny this job if you wish.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± I nodded solemnly.


    ¡°I need you to go to the far south.¡± Amun pulled his map from his shadow and pointed to the base of a large peninsula. ¡°Any town that¡¯s not too big. Preferably a poor town, somewhere in the sticks- far away from the capital where the disenfranchised would be easy to find. I want you to become something akin to a folk hero.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°Defend the town against oppressors or heal the sick for no cost. It doesn¡¯t matter how. Just use your actions to bring change to the people of Maru. Instill in their minds the motivation to fight for a better reality. Give them the notion of there being organizations they can migrate to for a better life. Do that,¡± Amun said. ¡°And teach them how to survive. Teach them how to learn and fight for themselves. Teach them to depend on no one but themselves. And encourage them to spread those teachings elsewhere.¡±


    There was a few moments of silence before I spoke. In those few moments, much of everything began to make sense to me. The books. The orders to train, to study, to develop our minds and bodies day after day after day since we were five. It all made sense, but at the same time, it was completely illogical to believe. He planned for this. Possibly before we even met, Amun planned for this very day. And perhaps much more.


    ¡®But¡­ how?¡¯ I thought, but Amun¡¯s stare suggested he suspected an answer. So I first bowed at the neck. ¡°I understand, I think. But, if I may ask. For what reason are you having me do this?¡±


    Amun simply sighed heavily and looked out upon the western horizon. ¡°This peace is fleeting,¡± He eventually said. ¡°A facade made from a cage that keeps the monsters contained. If the barrier is to break, there needs to be a power that can oppose them. Otherwise, Maru as we know it will cease to exist. The Guild Association can only do so much. We can only do so much. More so, we¡¯ll need allies to accomplish what I have in mind. Citizens who are farmers and hunters and construction workers and politicians from every walk of life. I''ll need no less than twice as many of them as I''ll need indomitable warriors.


    ¡°I plan to free Maru from this inverted cage. Only then will I feel at ease about exploring the realms.¡± He turned back to stare deep into my eyes. ¡°That starts here. With your actions and ours.¡±


    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll do It.¡±


    ---


    I turned back from my past self, nodding her affirmations to Amun, and looked outward to the dank cave I claimed as my home. ¡®But how?¡¯ I wondered. It felt to be such an insurmountable task. A job that not even the two of us could carry out.


    ¡°We start with information,¡± my clone, my other best friend, my Doppelganger¡¯s voice spread through the soft glow of the cavern to embrace my mind in a cold peace. ¡°We start with the city of Colis.¡±

 219 - The Dark in the Light

    Two tendays passed after I arrived at the cave below Crag Lake. In that time, I melted my way ever deeper below ground and sealed the way behind me, leaving only the smallest passages to lead me to and from the entry chamber above. It was a cozy place. Plush with a sizable bed, plush carpets, dressers, and a toilet bathed in soft lantern light. And it was all mine, tucked away inside the burning bowels of the underground.


    I almost regretted having to leave, but I had a job to do. So, with my under-suit lining my body and Jone- my Doppelganger- hiding in my shadow, I pushed my ice wall aside and ascended ever so slowly to the surface of Crag Lake.


    As the dark mirror of the waters loomed into view, a memory of my arrival played through my mind, making me pause. I remembered the endless chorus of life. The birds and bugs and rodents scouring about. So loud they were when compared to the dead tundra of Odissi or the dank chasms of my new home. Without spells, it was overwhelming. But with them, I was shown another world entirely. Like sonar, the waves of sound bouncing all around created a mental map of the surrounding lake as I broke the surface.


    Turning to the island, I heard halting footsteps, a heart beating anxiously, and a shortened breath. ¡°Off you go.¡± Came a whisper. Someone- many people, lived there. In a church of some kind. And she, whoever the source of that voice was, sensed my mana.


    With the knowledge that magic was temporarily out of my arsenal, I returned to my little hole to reform my plans. After much debate, two months were spent melting out a maze of tunnels to connect the cities of Colis, Droria, and Oretta to my burning cave.


    It wasn¡¯t the act of tunneling that required such time. With thermal magic, all digging required of me was to heat my body past the melting point of rock and walk while a cold domain behind me froze the magma into solid floors and archways. Nay, it was snaking the caverns, looping them back, above, and over each other that demanded so much time. On top of that, I had to establish caches, listening posts, dugouts, or escape routes to the surface. Eventually, however, it was done, and after an extensive period of rest, I emerged from the depths of the underground near a vibrant forest hugging the base of the mountains.


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    Colis was my first destination, a small place, fifty kilometers to the south of my cave. A quarry to the west comprised the largest part of the village. Only a large inn or tavern and several ranches or warehouses were scattered randomly within a wide copse of ancient trees and rough stones. And looking down upon it gingerly were rows of comparatively larger estates and the large stone castle under construction.


    It was upon that plateau that I saw someone that made me turn back almost immediately. It was a human, dressed in the silks and jewels that denoted them as a noble. And beside them was a hulking figure dressed in armor, brandishing a sword. They were protected. Most likely by the crown. Though still, just below them stood a sight that kept my legs from moving away. Men and women, the elderly, and even children were under constant motion. Some were pounding the stone at a faster tempo than my racing heart. Others were groaning and spitting at the armed men and women as they pulled carts in and out of warehouses or hauled bricks up to the castle.


    I could hear their pleas. I could hear their chains. I could hear the condescending remarks of the noble and his guard. I wanted to silence all of it. But they were backed by the crown, and I wasn''t there to start a war.


    I didn¡¯t need Jone to tell me it was more trouble than it was worth, as horrible as that was to think. But the fact remained, I couldn¡¯t save them all. And the ones that would be saved would remain in mortal danger for years to come. So with a sour taste in my mouth and a heavy feeling in my heart, I retreated to my tunnel to embark on the eighty-kilometer trek to Oretta, making sure to collapse the tunnel leading to Colis behind me.

 220 - Consequences and Decisions

    Though the journey was less than a day away, the bile in my mouth caused me to turn away from Oretta shortly after my arrival.


    Even hours later, my heart panged louder than their pickaxes against the stone. My face blossomed hotter than the stone sloughing into pools below my feet. My mind felt sick. My gut felt frustrated. I turned my back on those people, understanding that helping them would only hurt them. That was more painful than anything I''ve had yet to endure.


    My response was to do as Amun would and carve a network for anyone I saved. Like an anthill of massive proportions, the chambers and rooms and pits and traps would keep anyone comfortable and safe for years to come.


    "And forever shrouded by the sun''s light." I openly lamented.


    As always, Jone was there to give her unwarranted opinion. "You know the solution." Came the frustrating answer. Frustrating only because I knew it to be true.


    The solution, the answer, was to keep digging. Keep carving and distancing ourselves until it became unfeasible to give chase. So I carved, melted, and froze mazes and labyrinths that tunneled hundreds of meters into the bedrock to converge in a central hub. An annex that soon became my new abode.


    The space became a ghost town made of stone that''d been shaped like metal or clay within a month. A pit stop was what it was intended to be, and so it contained nothing more than large barracks and inns surrounding the central platform housing rails that stretched to the far side of the mountain. It was an endeavor that required more than just mining. The effort required an abundance of iron. More than I had in my storage, which necessitated weeks of mining, scrapping, smelting, and casting. An easy task with my thermal magic, I felt before I started. But even then, it wasn''t until four months had passed that I returned to the light of the surface with my work done.


    The maze led me to the outskirts of Oretta, my initial destination before my months of construction began. The city was comparatively larger than Colis, though I''m sure that too had grown considerably since my last visit.


    Oretta stood some thirty kilometers to the northwest of Crag Lake as a rugged mining town with high walls of piled stone and many short, grizzled-looking guards, but nothing that resembled the presence of nobility like I saw in Colis; and thankfully, no slaves.


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    Still, I was reluctant to just waltz up to the gate at sundown. So I kept to the brush and skirted around the perimeter, withdrawing small puffs of sound magic to mimic the calls of the many creatures of the night as I went.


    It was a gamble, I knew, but I had a gut feeling that these people weren''t as sensitive to mana as the woman on Crag Island. Though she was still an enigma to me, I knew she was protecting someone or something. And with her ability to sense my presence from hundreds of meters away, I had little doubt she needed any assistance in accomplishing it.


    Thankfully, my gamble paid off. From what I heard and saw, none of them sensed me. The people of Oretta were simple folk who talked of exporting ores and hunting food when they weren''t discussing importing luxuries and exporting tools. There was little talk of injuries or healing, only complaints about a drought or the heat and a few ill words towards the distant crown, but I knew a mining town like this would have more than a few accidents regularly.


    With the sun deep on the horizon, I felt it safe to distance myself from the city and pull my paraglider out of storage. That and my glasses, which enabled me to peer through the impregnable darkness and witness the landscape in a million shades of gray.


    As I saw on my way in, some six months ago, the landscape was but an endless forest of rolling hills and stone outcroppings mingled with the occasional lake or rift or sinkhole. Given the choices, it was the sinkhole that wound up my destination. It was but a kilometer east of the city, near the main road that led out to the heartland. Two hundred meters was its width, and its depth was but forty meters. Just voluminous enough for me to fill with ice and turn into my witch hut. Better yet, there were no grumbling sounds of a slumbering beast looming from the pit, so I felt at ease as I slipped from my chair and fell.


    Down and down into the pit, I fell and eventually slowed under silent torches beneath my feet. When rock touched my soles I canceled all my spells and couched into the darkness to listen. For one minute unto five, and then ten, I waited, listening in on the chorus of bugs and rodents above and the soft drips and trickles below.


    There was water below this sinkhole. A considerable volume, trapped in a chasm that rhythmically grew and fell in temperature, but only to such a point that the scalding water reached into the cracks spreading adjacent to the pool. It needed more heat energy if it wanted to breach the hole as it was so desperately trying to. And heat was something I had in excess.


    Heat, and water.


    Uncaring of the steam rising around me, I swam through the earth until I breached the water-soaked stone and pulled the viscous magma shut behind me. Then, with ice flowing from my body, I fell into the waters, quickly sank to the depths, and let the wave of crawling ice spreading in my wake encompass me and spread into every nook and cranny to exist in this hole.


    And then came the heat.

 221 - Big Folk

    ¡°I hate how the big folk treat us! They¡¯re no different than the dwarves!¡± I looked up to the balding head of Pragsturosa and prayed to the gods that he heard me.


    But my father wheeled about to nearly whip me with the reins. ¡°They¡¯re very different!¡± He loudly insisted. ¡°They''re caring people with hearts ten times larger than their frames! Like us.¡± He nudged me on the bow, then tapped his pudgy finger on his graying temples. ¡°But they¡¯re gruff and dense in the skull so they think kindness is weakness. But if anything, DeBoynton, be wary of the big folk,¡± Pa warned. ¡°Even those with good intentions will tower over you as they would to their child. It¡¯s demeaning. Especially when it''s not intended.¡±


    The deep sadness in his eyes rang truer than words ever could. It was one of the few times I seen the life in his eyes and face drain completely. As far as I was aware, only on four occasions did the rich brown of his features fade into the pale grays of dead wood. When he spoke of my uncle and his death in the mines. When the dwarves called him weak and spineless. When the big folk treated us unfairly.


    And when I spoke of adventuring.


    I hated seeing it. But I hated my inability to cheer him up even more. ¡°Oh, I hear ya, Pa.¡± I gave him a pat on the shoulder. But he turned on me.


    ¡°You ought to!¡± He snapped the reins at me again. ¡°You¡¯re a few years out from bein¡¯ old enough to go out on your own. And-¡±


    ¡°Shut yer traps!¡± A grizzled shout came from ahead.


    His words sent Father reeling around, scowling, but his demeanor suddenly changed after seeing Pragsturosa dismount his carriage and palm his meaty hand to the ground.


    ¡°Sum¡¯ ain¡¯t right.¡± He growled just low enough for us to hear, then pulled his hammer from his carriage before waving to us.


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    ¡°Alright, Deboynton, remember.¡± Father turned his gray face and eyes to me. This was the fifth occasion. ¡°Do not attack until you know what it is we face. If it¡¯s out of our league, run to report to the town guard. Swear it to me!¡±


    ¡°I- I swear!¡± I swallowed hard and found myself hugging the short sword and shield my father shoved into my arms.


    ¡°Behind me.¡± He ordered after ensuring I was settled. Then, he faced about to step off the trail behind the rugged dwarf.


    ¡°Of all places.¡± The hammer-wielding brute muttered something obscene. And I nearly did as well. We were at the tail end of a three-day return trip from Colis, selling ingots and ores and the like. The gates of Oretta were just around this bend and a bit further inside a gorge that met the mountain on the backside. But it was this bend we were heading into. Where, just beyond the woodline, a wide sinkhole that fell when my pa was half my age sat.


    It was a dead land. A barren hole, hidden behind this thicket of brush and tree. And thus it remained unnamed by the mouths of us Orettans. Or it had been at least. Now, it held a sight that stole the air from our lungs. Billowing clouds of white steam rose high and high and higher into the sky. So high they met up with the clouds, I couldn¡¯t help but think. But Pa and the grungy dwarf were on edge with their beady eyes to the front.


    Suddenly, Pragsturosa threw his heavy hand before us. ¡°Hold!¡± he bellowed, then the ground began its rumble. Trees began to shake soundlessly, ripping leaves from their branches to coat the ground before us in a field of green. The rumbling then intensified, signaling the spews of hot steam to rise into the sky. Up and up like water ejected from the laughing ground''s lips, the water silently arced. Higher and higher it went while deeper and deeper the ground trembled. The trees shook. The ground quaked from under our feet to slam into our backsides, allowing us to feel the entirety of a blast that I was sure could break the realm in half.


    I saw only a flash of light before the ground left my body entirely. The world then spun all around me until I felt¡­ something hit my backside. Then, all I saw was darkness reaching from the edges of my vision. And at the center, at the end of that long dark tunnel, I saw¡­ snow. Falling ice. White clouds. And running through it all, skating through that snow and darkness, was a hooded figure approaching with outstretched arms.

 222 - Little People

    Jonet Fischer.


    ***


    Jone''s sharp sigh was taken with an involuntary wince. Her smirk told me all well before she said it. I came to the same conclusion after all. Sickening though it was to think. "Well, they''ll know you''re a hedge witch now."


    I was halfway to rolling my eyes at her when she began spasming. Seizing in place for a long, awkward second until she suddenly stopped and remained eerily still, her neck craned up and her eyes wide with surprise, even after she dropped them to me.


    "Hey." She amiably smirked, but her voice was unlike hers. Unlike mine. It was masculine yet smooth. Charming, even. Nostalgic. And... mystic.


    It could only have belonged to one person. But¡­ "That''s impossible."


    "Is it?" he said, and Jone''s head cocked in the same way his would.


    I found myself stepping towards her in the next moment, reaching out to her face and mine to confirm with my fingers what I saw with my eyes. "Amun?" I laughed in grotesque disbelief.


    "My spell mutated." Jone calmly nodded, a wide smile spread across her face.


    "Mmm?"


    "Ah!" I suddenly turned towards the murmur to spread a domain across the space. "Okay." I turned back to Jone. "Continue."


    Snickering softly, she peered over my shoulder and said in Amun''s voice. "I see you''ve been busy."


    "I had a bit of an accident." I smiled knowingly at the Jone inside. "But it works out for the better."


    "Happy accidents are the best accidents." He concurred with a simple shrug. "We''ve been busy as well. The majority of our class have pledged into our guild, the Legio Noctis."


    "Legio Noctis." I nodded slowly, committing the name to memory.


    "Indeed." He nodded back. "There are many changes that I''ll share with you when you''re less... occupied." He took another look over my shoulder and snickered. "In short, one of our allies is the Epethian Prince. So don''t get caught acting against the crown."


    ¡°A given." I chortled softly.


    "I figured." Jone snorted in the way Amun did, a strange sight to behold. "Let uh¡­ Jone, know when you''re free. We''ll talk later."


    "Okay. I look forward to it."


    "As do I." Jone returned my smile, then shuddered eerily as I assumed her consciousness returned to her otherworldly body. And after a deep sigh, her voice was hers once more. But she quickly grew wide-eyed and disappeared into my shadow a moment later.


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    I wheeled around just as another murmur spread through the silence. The boy was rising from his pelt and blinking his eyes open, making me quickly halt in place to not startle him. He had dark brown skin and eyes, with black hair that was beginning to grow into prominent sideburns along his cheek. And like the man next to him, he was small. A meter and change by my estimations, but dressed tall in suits and leather shoes that belied the trail on which they ventured. Unlike the rugged dwarf, who was covered in many layers of mail and leather and was grasping onto a large hammer when I found him- and even now in the depths of unconsciousness, he was still swearing and cursing and swinging his empty arms about.


    ***


    DeBoynton.


    ***


    I heard¡­ voices. Two of them. A woman''s. And then a man. Hers sounded¡­ surprised. Shaken almost. And his was strange and calm. He talked slowly. And he said something about a mutation or other. And then¡­ silence.


    I don''t know how much time passed before I stirred awake. The first thing I noticed was a fur pelt beneath me and a hard surface beneath that. Then a fresh¡­ almost freezing breeze. When I opened my eyes I saw an endless field of blue around me. As my vision came into focus, I realized the blue to be walls, ceilings, and floors made entirely of ice. I was even lying on a bed of ice. And so too were my father and Pragsturosa. I could hear them breathing. Snoring.


    "Are you injured?"


    "Ah!" I startled awake and reached for my sword that wasn''t there. And, having no choice, I turned to the owner of the voice, the same owner as the voice from before, and felt all my willpower leave my body at once.


    She seemed like a noble lady from where she sat. With high leather boots and black trousers that hugged her legs nicely. A blue shirt covered her top, draped by a black hood pulled down to reveal a dark-skinned face, dotted with the most vibrant pair of eyes I''ve ever set my sights on. They were blue-white like the walls surrounding us, and the way they stared into my soul left me speechless.


    "Injured?" Her lips curled into a friendly smile. "Hurt? Does anywhere ache?"


    "N- no." I turned away suddenly to shake away the warmth that found its way to my cheeks. "I''m fine."


    "Good." She leaned further into her seat. "That means they are as well."


    "What happened?"


    "A geyser erupted. From what I understand, you all were standing too close." She gestured to the three of us. "I froze the water before it could scald you and brought you all here."


    "Freeze?" I shook my head in disbelief. "How?"


    "I''m a Witch," she said.


    "Ugh! Not just a human. But a human witch!"


    I found myself turning to the witch''s defense, but it was unneeded. Pa was stirring awake alongside Pragsturosa, and she didn''t pay it any mind either. All she did was gesture to a side table with a hammer, two swords, and a small shield laid atop it.


    "You''re free to leave," she said, turning back to us with a soft smile. "Just head west through the tunnel. And take a pelt. It may be a bit cold."


    "I''m fine!" grumbled the dwarf as he waddled over to his weapon, then disappeared through an archway at the far end of¡­


    "Where are we?"


    "And who are you?" Pa added.


    "I''m Jay." She bowed. "A traveling Witch. And." She gestured to the blue walls surrounding us. "We are at the bottom of the lake."


    "No lake exists this close to Oretta," Father said.


    "One does now." She smiled, then stood twice, if not thrice my height. Then, she suddenly tensed and turned her gaze upward. That''s when I saw it. The imposing stature of the big folk that demeaned us even when they weren''t trying.


    I knew if I looked, I''d see the colorless grays spreading across Pa''s face at that moment. And if he looked, he''d see the same in mine.


    "Can I walk you up?"

 223 - Stone-head

    Lemarius Dewleaf.


    ***


    Damn it all.


    I could see my earlier words were getting to the boy. And while it was sound advice, it simply was not the halfling way. We were to be open-minded at all times. Look at the facts and never take things too seriously. Most things at least.


    As for this woman, Jay, she didn¡¯t seem malicious. Though she certainly seemed to be the cause of our injury. And despite her healing us, I was sure the brutish dwarf was moving as fast as his legs could carry him to rally his clan. She knew it too. Though she still smiled, she dropped her gaze from above to flick the jewels of ice in her sockets between us. ¡°Can I walk you up?¡± Came the question I knew would be uttered.


    For better or for worse, I nodded. ¡°Sure. My name is Lemarius Dewleaf and this is my son-¡±


    ¡°DeBoynton.¡± He flatly- surprisingly- said, and even waited for me to rise before he grabbed his sword. Then started the climb up a long, featureless tunnel of white.


    Damn it all.


    ¡°The brute you met earlier is Pragsturosa Fangchisel, a stone-headed simpleton like most dwarves. But they¡¯re good folk.¡± I lightheartedly chortled, attempting to brighten my son¡¯s mood to little avail. ¡°We of Oretta have a mutually beneficial relationship. The dwarves mine and forge below and provide us protection while we grow, hunt, and cook, or garner them higher profits at the market.¡±


    ¡°Are you an adventurer?¡± Deboynton then asked. And I couldn¡¯t help but add. ¡°If you are, there may not be much in the way of business.¡±


    ¡°I heal those that need healing. That¡¯s it.¡± Jay casually shrugged.


    ¡°And if no one needs healing?¡± I couldn¡¯t help but ask.


    But she only shrugged again. ¡°Then I¡¯ll go elsewhere to find those who do.¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡±


    ¡°Droria is my next stop.¡±


    DeBoynton stopped in his tracks and turned his wide eyes to her at once. And to be truthful, so did I.


    ¡°Droria is a bad place.¡± He grimly warned.


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    ¡°What makes it bad?¡± Jay asked with not a hint of hesitation in her step.


    ¡°Slavers. Trappers. Rogues and the like,¡± the boy continued. ¡°They pride themselves on not being a part of the empire. But they¡¯re not any better.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough!¡± I sternly said, noticing the fire in her blue-white eyes. ¡°I know that look,¡± I said to her. ¡°Don¡¯t go bringing us trouble, you hear?¡±


    ¡°You have my word that I¡¯ll do my best not to.¡± She bowed mid-step but continued stomping forward unimpeded. ¡°Should it happen, though, just know that I have the means to bring you all to safety.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t be leaving.¡±


    The words came out grim. Grimmer than I intended, but like many things, I came to learn, she accepted it with open arms.


    ¡°Under the wrong circumstances, you may have no choice.¡±


    It may have come off as a casual threat. But I could see that it wasn¡¯t. We were driven to make that choice once before. And while we swore it would never happen again, I knew such things weren¡¯t up for us to decide.


    ¡°Hold!¡±


    I could sense the dwarven formation long before we crested the mouth of the long tunnel. They were led, of course, by Pragsturosa, and undoubtedly listened with ferocious intensity to his tale of what transpired. Though honest, their stories were always heavily skewed towards their preconceived notions, I¡¯ve learned. They abhorred any type of magic born not from their Gods or their traditions, dubbing it as unnatural or something or other. And this- a castle at the base of a frozen lake, was surely unnatural.


    Barakgnogg Fusseldorne, clan leader of the dwarves, waded across the ice the moment we emerged. Paying no mind to me or my son, he stepped right up to Jay and looked deep into her soul with his beady gray eyes.


    ¡°So, ye be the witch, eh?¡± He grumbled something profusely. Even from here, I could smell the dwarven spirits burning through the frigid air. Yet, she paid no heed to the overbearing stench.


    ¡°Yes. My name is Jay.¡± She politely bowed.


    ¡°So what happened in ye here hole?¡±


    ¡°A geyser was due to blow in the near future,¡± Jay calmly said with a wave to the lake around us. ¡°The water was trapped below the sinkhole, you see, and heated by a hot spot in the ground.¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡± Chief Fusseldorne nodded approvingly, though his thumb jerked towards the ice at his feet. ¡°Felt it in the stones, we did. So ye went and blew it, eh?¡±


    ¡°I tried my best to contain it.¡± She meekly shrugged. ¡°But the blast knocked these three unconscious.¡±


    ¡°So ye healed¡¯m and took residence in the¡­ er, lake? Is that all yer after?¡± Fusseldorne eyed her suspiciously.


    I listened carefully as she recanted the story she told us. Of her being a traveling witch in want of no gold or payment, only people to heal. And then she¡¯ll be on her merry way to Droria.


    ¡°Mhmm,¡± Fusseldorne grunted after hearing the story, then turned his beady eyes up to fill his leathery lungs with the brisk air. ¡°Weather¡¯s nice.¡±


    Grumbling something or other under his breath, Chief Barakgnogg Fusseldorne took his leave without another word. Only after he and his dwarven troupe cleared the lake and waded past the woodline did his thunderous voice boom into our ears. ¡°We¡¯ll be keeping a sharp eye on ye, Jay, the Witch!¡±


    ¡°I think he likes you.¡± I chortled. Though in truth, I was speaking for myself. ¡°That¡¯s the closest you¡¯ll get for a thanks from him, by the by.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate you trusting me,¡± Jay told us softly.


    Though, somehow, I knew Fusseldorne heard her just as clearly.

 224 - Gray Wash

    DeBoynton Dewleaf.


    ***


    Like she said she would, Jay hung around for the next couple of tendays, healing folk and talking to me whenever Pa said I could. She was as nice as she was beautiful. And strong, I learned after joining her on a foraging trip. It was a strength unlike any I¡¯d seen before. A gentle one that turned beasts away rather than one that cut them into pieces. She was nothing like the humans I met in Colis.


    When the two tendays passed, Jay left with promises to teach me about medicine and needles and sneaking around even. I was as excited as ever, hearing the news, but I didn¡¯t tell Pa. Medicine would have been okay, and maybe even needles, but I could only imagine him finding out I was learning to be a crook.


    He noticed the pep in my step but said nothing. Maybe he imagined I was just excited to see Jay again, which I was, but when I saw her a little over a month later, my mirth was stolen entirely. She still taught me all about medicine. Of how our bodies worked and how being ill or injured harmed us. It was crazy to think of us being made of tiny little things. Cells, she called ¡®em. And I couldn¡¯t quite understand, but I surely listened.


    As she said, she taught me about needles too. She was so nice and gentle, it was crazy to think she was so deadly with little ole rods of steel. She was so swift, stabbing into beasts many a time in the blink of an eye, and she was as silent as she was deadly.


    Like Pa told me, some humans were born with magic. They weren¡¯t magic incarnate like sorcerers, but they could use powers other species couldn¡¯t. And Jay, in addition to ice, had power over sound. She didn¡¯t outright tell me but it was the only explanation. There were times when I saw patients screaming their hearts out, but not a peep left their mouths. We walked all the time through the forest, right past dangerous beasts while we idly chatted away and they had no idea we were even there. It was the only explanation. But she didn¡¯t tell me. She only made notice of how loud my steps were and taught me how to move quieter. She taught me to blend into the shadows and observe. Wait. Listen.


    She taught me a lot about everything but nothing about herself. But even then, I was happy for it. Still, though, a part of my mirth had been stolen throughout it all. There were times when she had the same grayed expression my Pa got sometimes. And seeing it made me get it too.


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    I noticed it again two months later. After she left and returned again, Jay seemed more rugged. More steeled like the hardened dwarves. Like Pragsturosa. They grew to respect her for it. Pa and the village had long respected her for her honesty and the rain that came whenever she¡¯d leave. But as she grew more grayed like the thunderclouds in the sky sometimes, I grew more worried for her.


    She was still healing then. She still taught me and even a few other kids how to sneak around. But she grew more silent. More distant, somehow. More gray.


    Her third departure marked a tradition in Oretta. A celebration on the day Jay Lake melted, where the halflings and dwarves would go out to swim and dine under the shining sun before the rain came. Her return some three months later marked the start of another tradition. One where halflings and dwarves would go out to the lake to throw provisions into the freezing ice or harvest the chunks for use in the city.


    By then, all of Oretta had grown to know her as the Silent Shamaness. A mysterious woman who came to heal folk and went off again to do... something, saying almost nothing the entire time she was here.


    I knew her as Jay. A once warm and welcoming woman who had grown as cold as the ice she commanded.


    I wanted to ask her what was wrong. To help her in any way I could, even if it was just a hug. But, for some reason, I could never find the strength to.


    That was until one day at the end of the year. At the end of our lessons, she sat me atop a rock and faced me to the south to watch the sunset. I don''t know how long we sat there, watching, waiting for the purples and reds and blues of the coming dusk to befall our eyes. But that was when her question came.


    ¡°Have you ever prayed for change, DeBoynton?¡±


    With my eyes still facing south, I shrugged. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve sure hoped for it. Never thought about praying for it though. To whom would you even pray for such a thing?¡±


    ¡°Your heart.¡± She said as if it were obvious. And, by the Gods, it was. ¡°If you pray from the heart it will be heard by whoever commands change. So, what kind of change would you pray for, DeBoynton?¡±


    ¡°If anything.¡± I leaned back, looked up to the featureless sky, and sighed deeply. ¡°I¡¯d pray for everyone to just be happy, ya know? Let the bad stuff exist somewhere else. The bandits that raid people; the slavers that take people from their homes; the nobles or royals who step on people¡¯s backs; let those guys live somewhere else. Somewhere far from the good folk. That way everybody wins.¡±


    ¡°Everybody wins. That¡¯s what I pray for too.¡± She sat next to me and said. And though I could see only her back, I could hear the smile in her voice. I could see the gray receding from her face as she continued. ¡°Let¡¯s pray for it. Both of us. When we¡¯re alone at night, let¡¯s look up to the sky and pray in our hearts for that change to come. We will be heard. I know it.¡±


    ¡°I never took you for the pious type.¡± I laughed heartily. ¡°But I will, Jay. I will.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± She chortled softly. ¡°Neither did I. But that¡¯s the thing about change. It comes unexpectedly. And when it does, we must decide if it''s worth fighting for.¡±

 225 - Evolution

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Now, bear the fruits of your labor!¡±


    With a final, ceremonious wave, Zorrenor led our teachers and the class instructors through an unassuming door, leaving the fifty-five of us reclined in our bramble thrones, staring at the writhing mass of arcane vines above.


    Like the writing tentacles of my Eldritch Abomination, the vines coiled and reached out, down towards the brow of every page in the room to nearly blind us with an arcane radiance. Like a liquid crystal ball, the excretion clung to the tip of the stalactite long enough for me to wonder how the eldritch creation was faring before the drop fell.


    Like a fat raindrop falling onto a pond, the sap, or whatever it was, splatted between my brows, sending a burning pulse through both bodies, material and spiritual. The energy, or whatever it was, intensified further with each drip. Each splat between my drow set the temperature of a heat I had no immunity to, to a higher and higher setting. And when it grew to an almost unbearable intensity, it suddenly waned.


    In an orgasmic second, the heat receded to the pinpoint of its origin and congealed into a drop of black and gold before rising to the stalactite. The dissipating heat soon brought on a shudder that rattled the throne below me. Simultaneously, the ceiling above writhed. The stalactites shriveled into stumps made of vines and then regressed further into cobalt-blue pits that spurred the fruit-bearing vines we were so desperate to see. And more.


    Crawling among those deep red-brown vines, teetering atop the thick blue veins that gave the wood its arcane vibrancy, were creatures that stole the air from my lungs. They glowed with the same radiance as the veins, appearing as insects with transparent carapaces formed into a rough diamond shape. And through that clear chitin, I saw what could only be described as circuitry; the arcane variety. It was in their very flesh, spread throughout their comparatively tiny bodies from head to toe.


    They, the Divine Aphids, made me curious, to say the least. But my curiosity soon turned into anxiousness once they burrowed into the object that occupied a large portion of my mind for the last fifteen years.


    The fruit of my labors was an oversized, hideless durian, though it still had the spikes that made the fruit instantly noticeable. And those spines emitted a golden radiance that was only seen from the quills lining the edge. Those on the face remained as black as the void, giving the surface a mangled, brainy texture in my night vision that was as unsettling as the aphid crawling around inside.


    As disgusting as it may have seemed, I felt almost compelled to taste it. I felt famished. I felt as if my efforts over the past year racked up a bill of exhaustion that was to be paid off with interest, time now. I felt as if I hadn¡¯t eaten in my entire life and had just now seen food for the first time. So, desperately, and yet calmly, I pulled the fruit towards my maw to sink my teeth into its flesh.


    It was¡­ tasteless, yet contained every taste and texture familiar to the tongue all the same. Salty and sweet and bitter and sour and savory. Chalky and chewy and creamy and crunchy. And it was filling. Like the ambrosia of legends, a single bite stated my endless hunger and enriched every aspect of my being. But only for an instant.


    I took another bite. And another. And soon I found myself taking another in my never-ending loop of satiation and hunger. Yet, I remained distracted by the ambient mana coalescing into tendrils of radiant-coated darkness before my eyes.


    [Blessing Awakened: Telin¡¯s Grace - As Telin¡¯s Champion, you are blessed as the most beloved by mana in this universe, making mana bend to your will more so than any other.]


    [Blessing Awakened: Telin¡¯s Sight - Your connection with Telin, the creator of all, enables you to peer down the many Evolutionary Paths available to those who meet your gaze. Or, your own.]


    [Blessing Awakened: Telin¡¯s Hand - By your standing under the Creator¡¯s wing, you passively grant a higher tier of affinity cores to those who stand under yours.]


    ¡°Holy shit!¡± I recoiled in unbridled surprise after the words began to fade. Along with the rest of the room. Though, I had to remind myself that the best was yet to come. And thankfully I did, as a sharp tingling began spreading throughout my entire body while new words began to form before me.


    [Prestige Class: Void Sorcerer of the Nox - The Path of Zefroth.]


    [Step 1: Hear Evil, See Evil, Speak Evil - [As one of the Darkest Devils of the Nox, you are able to walk the path that leads through to the end of the Abyss. Through Darkness, Death, and Void you will venture. From the other side, you will emerge before the legions of your devilkin to take the throne as their God. To take the first step, you must summon your first Devilchild to learn from them the language of your kin. Then, make your first deal in the tongue of your eldritch people.]


    ¡®And there it is.¡¯ I grinned in satisfaction. Then grinned harder and wider after reading further down the line. Not only did my blessing allow me to see what needed to be done to move forward at the higher levels, but I was also able to see the rewards as well. And oh, were they exciting.


    However¡­


    [Prestige Class: Cleric of Telin - The Eternal Path]


    [Step 1: Divine Profile - As Telin¡¯s Eternal Champion, you have inherited the Divine Domain of Mana from this universe''s creator, as well as the universe itself. But as an Unproven Eternal Seed, you were born a Divine Soul, stunted in divine maturation until the time of your evolution. Now that your divinity has awakened, you can take your first step down the Eternal Path to Godhood. This first step is to finalize your Divine Profile.]


    I could hardly think about the Class or look down on the rewards, as an intense pressure soon grew out of the sharp tingling I felt earlier. Though it was small and thus manageable, I couldn¡¯t help but look around to see if anyone else felt it before I was distracted by more words appearing before me.


    [Master Class: Artificer - Grandmaster Artificer]


    The feeling disappeared almost entirely as I smiled wider and leaned forward a bit to absorb the details of my most-awaited class.


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    [The path of the Grandmaster Artificer is open only to those who have an understanding of and experience in manipulating both the natural and arcane worlds to their ends. Those individuals, with the potential to master all forms of craft, must do just that if they are to call themselves a Grandmaster Artificer.]


    [Step 6: Grandmaster Industrialist.]


    ''Goddamn!'' I gasped again, then almost gasped in pain as ripples and waves churned within my spiritual body.


    The pain, mild though it was, was concentrated mostly around my brain and eyes, but also within my hands and seemed to burn intensely as yet more words formed before my eyes.


    [Step 1: Craft Master - Task Complete.]


    [Mutation: [Artificer¡¯s Cookbook.] - Your mastery of the basic aspects of crafting has granted you perfect recall of all the things you have learned to create, giving you precise knowledge of the materials and techniques needed for an item¡¯s creation.]


    [Active Skill: [Identify] - Your Mastery of Crafting has given you a keen eye in ascertaining the name and nature of any item you come across with but a bit of concentration.]


    [Step 2: Grandmaster Crafter - Task Complete.]


    [Passive Skill: [Audit] - Your grand mastery of crafting has granted you the means to quickly identify the quantity, quality, and material worth of all products or raw materials in your possession.]


    [Active Skill: [Prospect] - Your proficiency with utilizing a wide range of materials has given you the means to locate raw non-magical materials in your immediate surroundings with but a bit of concentration.]


    [Step 3: Master Artisan - Task Complete.]


    [Active Skill: [Appraisal] - Your mastery of the artisanal crafts has given you a keen eye in ascertaining the nature, monetary value, and quality of any non-living object with but a bit of concentration.]


    [Active Skill: [Material Extraction] - Your proficiency with utilizing a wide range of materials has given you the means to expedite the extraction of known, non-magical materials using a combination of mana molding and concentration.]


    [Step 4: Grandmaster Artisan - Task Complete.]


    [Active Skill: [Locate Possession] - The result of your grand mastery of the Artisinal Crafts is the permanent mark of your magical signature being bonded onto any object of your creation. By concentrating on this mark or the item in question, its whereabouts can be located across any distance, and on any non-divine plane of existence, so long as you have not sold the item to another already.]


    [Active Skill: [Raw Material Purification] Your grand mastery of the Artisinal Crafts and your proficiency with a wide range of materials have given you the means to use a combination of mana molding and intense focus to increase the quality of any non-magical raw material by one tier.]


    [Step 5: Grandmaster Manufacturer - Task Complete.]


    [Active Skill: [Material Handling] - Your grand mastery of Manufacturing has given you an innate understanding of the inner workings of raw materials. With one minute of focus on one hundred cubic centimeters of material, you can ascertain the properties and uses of any non-magical material you encounter.]


    [Active Skill: [Refined Material Purification] - By becoming a Grandmaster of Manufacturing, you have learned to make the most out of whatever material you find along your way, sparing nothing to bring your creations to reality. Because of this, you have gained the ability to combine concentration with mana molding to increase the quality of any non-magical refined material by one tier.]


    [Step 6: Grandmaster Industrialist - Task Complete.]


    [Active Skill: [Refine] - Your grand mastery of Industry has seen you amass, purify, and refine uncountable tons of raw materials, increasing your proficiency to the point where raw, non-magical materials can be refined with a combination of mana molding and intense concentration.


    [Passive Skill: [Dowsing] - Your grand mastery of Industry has seen you prospect, locate, and extract vast quantities of raw materials, hereby granting you the means to sense and search for known materials in the realm around you without concentrating.]


    ¡°Well, holy shit!¡± I gasped in satisfaction.


    While I didn¡¯t need the cookbook to know what I needed to create things, the other perks were far better than Zoop led on. I didn¡¯t even need a forge at this point. But even then, it would only get better down the line. With the tingling subsiding, however, I realized I couldn¡¯t let my thoughts linger for too much longer so I quickly scanned through the next rank until more words appeared.


    [Step 7: Grandmaster Alchemist - To become a Grandmaster of Alchemy, you must brew either 1,000,000 Common potions. 500,000 Greater Potions. 100,000 Superior potions. 10,000 Supreme potions. Or 1,000 Legendary Potions.]


    ¡®A grandmaster through and through, holy shit.¡¯ I chortled in mild despair. And chortled again after seeing the somewhat paltry rewards for the arduous task. Still, though, I had well over a few dozen liters of fresh unicorn blood in my umbral pocket, so my mirth wasn¡¯t stolen entirely. And even less so, considering the basics of enchanting is what followed and even continued until Step 15, Grandmaster Armorer. And then would I arrive at the stage the big gnome himself was stuck at.


    Runes.


    With such lucrative rewards, I couldn¡¯t wait to go out and give them a test run. But soon, the coveted darkness formed into more radiant words before my eyes, leaning me forward expectantly in my seat for this addictive experience.


    [Master Class: Monk - The Way to Death¡¯s Door.]


    [Step 0: Uninitiated - As a child of the Nox with the strongest ties to Death and His Underworld, you have grown accustomed to toeing the line with His door in a way unlike any other. By dancing with Death, the sorcerous energies of your spirit have learned to meld with those of the Underworld. By meditating under the Shadow of Death, your mind has familiarized itself with its embrace so as to remain unclouded. Yet, your body remains an unsuitable vessel for this energy. To begin the Way to Death¡¯s Door, your dying flesh must first be familiarized with the Monastic Arts.]


    I felt a soundless sigh of relief escape my lungs after reading through the words. Though I didn¡¯t want to admit it, a seed of doubt had germinated in my mind after months upon months of failing to circulate ki within my body. In hindsight, I realized the crafty drow never intended for us to circulate it at all. She only wanted us to grow accustomed to it by trying desperately to achieve what was impossible for the unevolved. Thus preparing us to obtain ki shortly after our arrival to her temple.


    Mind, body, spirit, and soul. It all made sense to me now.


    What didn¡¯t make sense was the ambient mana condensing before my eyes once again, compressing into wispy lines of glowing darkness that stole every bit of excitement and joy from my slow-beating heart.


    [Prestige Class]


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    [Rogue Devil.]


    ¡®I beg your pardon.''


    [Soul Mastermind.]


    ¡°W¡­ what?¡±


    [Level 1: Branded]


    ¡°No.¡± Not like this.


    [Your chaotic nature and disregard for any law but your own has led you to eschew the ways of your devilkin. You have gone Rogue. Yet, your talent for dealing with souls is unmatched by all but the most powerful of Archdevils; thus, when matched with your birthright, your standing within the caste remains uncontested. However, your relationship remains tenuous at best. Lest your kin turn their blades on you, you must forever bring glory to the Abyssal Underworld and keep your standing in the hierarchy by showcasing your prowess in dealing with souls evermore. To accomplish this, you must first become fluent in the Thieves Cant and create your Rogue Alias.]


    ¡®Rogue.¡¯


    The word repeated in my mind. Echoed like the haunting steps of a leviathan. Among others.


    Relationship. Tenuous. Hierarchy. Standing.


    ¡®I¡¯m to evolve into their fucking God, yet they¡¯d turn their blades on me?¡¯ The thought was laughable. But then, I felt a sudden tingling wrap around both wrists.


    For the first time in this life, the cold fingers of fear crept up my spine as I looked down to see seafoam green flames reaching across my wrists to form binding chains of eldritch text that seared me down to my bones.


    So it was, I was branded as a Rogue Devil.


    ¡°What the fuck!?!¡±

 226 - Shocker

    Rogue.


    I read it over and over again, feeling nothing less than utter shock. More shock than what came after, even.


    Based on everything I learned, a rogue was someone who either blatantly stole from others, was a recognized criminal, or had been banned from a city or state for nefarious deeds. Yet, as far as I was aware, the only things I¡¯d ever stolen were souls, vitality, and trinkets from the dead. And Humphrey, but I wasn¡¯t aware that amounted to me going rogue.


    Even if I¡¯ve eschewed the ways of the kin I¡¯ve never met, I didn¡¯t see how that warranted me becoming a rogue. And being one required far more than just dealing with souls. If I wanted to finish this path- and I had to if I wanted to remove this brand, I had to raise a devil army alongside my Legions, spread death and darkness across the Mortal Plane, and eventually war against the divine.


    Granted, I fully expected to do those things anyway. But being told I had to do it was a different story. It took all the fun out of it. Not only that, but I expected the Path of Zefroth to lead me down such a road. Instead, Zefroth¡¯s Path called for me to create warlocks, learn the ways of my devilkin, and retrace the steps of my distant ancestors; giving me quite exotic transformations and other abilities along the way.


    Being on the Eternal Path, I figured I¡¯d have to war with at least one God eventually, but being forced to do so left a sour taste in my mouth, to say the least. Regardless, I was interested to see many of the future rewards in action, though I was fully aware that moving up in the class depended entirely upon the actions of others, thus it would most likely be the last path I saw the end of. As it should have been. And my sorcerer and rogue paths wouldn¡¯t be too far behind them. On the contrary, however, I was confident that the Way of Death¡¯s Door would be the first I¡¯d see the end of. All it required of me was to spend an increasingly longer time roaming and fighting and meditating on death¡¯s door while I continued to develop the ki paths within my spirit to the point of Abbot Eiriol¡¯s.


    As I assumed, the monastic synergized nicely with both my strengths and weaknesses. I was half-drow, which gave me an innate resistance to magic on top of my elvish agility and dexterity. That, combined with the monk''s ability to parry projectiles made me virtually untouchable at long range and simultaneously heightened both my offensive and defensive capabilities at close range. Essentially, antimagic would be no issue for me with the perks of this class, yet it was the easiest of them all for me to venture.


    Considering that, I decided it best to place it at the far end of my priorities for the coming year and instead move down the path of the Soul Mastermind first. All I needed to do was to learn a language and make a nickname after all, so it made sense that it was where I would start. After that, I¡¯d have the ability to gain my first promotion or two in Sorcery before I took off to learn enchanting and toil away in a temporally dilated lab.


    Once every creation festering in my mind was brought into reality, that was when I¡¯d spend the few months with Abbot Eiriol to begin making my way towards Death¡¯s Door. Regrettably, however, all I could do until then was create my Divine Profile and crank out as many potions as I could, and for better or for worse, the former wouldn¡¯t take long and I had more than enough time and resources for the latter.


    ¡°Congratulations, newly awakened!¡±


    A voice as regal and smooth as silken strands boomed through the hall, stirring our minds and eyes away from the arcane scrips floating before our eyes and onto Abbot Eiriol, smoothly levitating in front of the approaching instructors with waving hands. Frantically waving, it seemed at a glance, but I recognized it as the sign language taught to me by my mother. ¡®Rendezvous with us in the court, Ascendant.¡¯ She signed while saying. ¡°As of this hour, you are Pages no more. You yearn for freedom, I am aware, thus I will keep my words sparse. Meet with us to learn when and where your studies are to begin and do your best to make this time of leisure worthwhile.¡±


    With a pompous huff, she pivoted and drifted off to an ambiguous corner of the room to wait. Soon enough, the instructors did much the same, and we newly awakened eagerly followed. I noticed a sour look in her eye as I turned away from her to speak with Zoop, though I put it out of my mind as I caught a glimpse of a sign telling the rogues where to be before the bubbling face of the gnome appeared before my eyes.


    ¡°Hey, hey! Nice to see ya!¡± She beamed.


    ¡°Likewise!¡± I couldn¡¯t help but beam back.


    ¡°Are you a Grandmaster Industrialist too?¡± She beamed, nudging Ed as she did so. ¡°Are ya? Are ya?¡±


    And of course, I beamed wider as he grinned. ¡°I am!¡±


    ¡°Good, good!¡± She bounced in place. ¡°And don¡¯t be daunted about alchemy! As long as you have the materials, you can brew as big a batch as you want!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to know.¡± Both I and Ed sighed in relief. Then we nearly coughed after a loose scroll was shoved into each of our guts.


    ¡°Here¡¯s your map! Classes begin on the first, but you can show up whenever you like! But keep in mind, once you come, you¡¯re expected to stay until you¡¯re certified. And then you¡¯re free to create all you want, yes you are!¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s not a problem.¡± I grinned knowingly.


    ¡°Good! And last thing!¡± She wagged a pudgy finger towards our brows. ¡°Two things I¡¯m obligated to tell you. Some classes allow you to have a Familiar. And some classes or magic types or even scrolls allow you to summon creatures from the other planes. Your evolution should give you the know-how for the first. And a course for the second one starts during the second semester.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s the instructor?¡± I quickly asked.


    She paused to give me a knowing wink. ¡°Why, the Necro King of course. But not as you know him, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± I dejectedly nodded. ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°Yep! Well, see ya soon!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine the Necro King coming here to teach.¡± Ed chortled after she left. ¡°Even for you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. But as she said, it''s not the Necro King we know.¡± I snorted. ¡°One clone could become two. But no more,¡± I muttered my great-grandfather''s now less cryptic words, then turned to Ed, grinning, to give him a brisk pat on the back. ¡°Anyway, congratulations! I need to talk to take care of a few things. We¡¯ll meet at the tower to do all the other things and celebrate, yeah?¡±


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    ¡°Yeah. Take your time.¡± He returned my pat and trotted off into the distance.


    Though there were still arcane words in my periphery to deal with, I turned just as the matronly drow turned away from the other monks. In ways she could only dream of, I kept to the darkness on the way to the courtyard and soon found Corym and Indra standing adjacent to each other in wait for her arrival.


    I waited a few moments after she stopped by their sides before revealing myself. If only to gain a bit of information. But alas, there wasn¡¯t as much as a sneer shared between them while they waited. Only when I stepped from the curtain of darkness clinging to the walls did they spur into action, reaching into dimensional storage pockets, pouches, and sleeves alike to offer me gifts in the form of magical items.


    <<What is this?>> I asked Abbot Eiriol as I took a set of garbs from her, then soon released them in a slow orbit. She, however, only lifted her pointed chin knowingly, and indeed, I did not need my perks to understand what they were or even did. I just... knew. So I instead asked. <<Why?>>


    <<Our tasks, given by the Eternal.>> She regally bowed, singing in my mother¡¯s tongue.


    <<Our?>> I flicked my eyes to the other two.


    <<Us three and one other.>> Corym said as he threw a pair of violet-hued leafy boots and a similar pair of gloves into my orbit. Those I did need my perks to identify.


    <<One who never comes down from their place in the between the planes. Not even for the Champion, it seems.>> Indra surprisingly sneered and threw a seemingly innocuous ring into the mix. <<My tasks aside, this belongs to your ancestor,>> She casually said. <<A ring of animal speaking.>>


    <<Oh?>> I beamed in amazement from her songful notes <<A most gracious gift indeed!>>


    <<A reaction I¡¯m most pleased with.>> She smiled knowingly. <<Though I have doubts you, in particular, will need it, I trust you will make good use of it. Should you have time, however,>> she quickly added, changing the subject, <<I would ask you to visit the groves in the Republic of Redagh when you are ready.>>


    <<For what purpose?>> I was almost afraid to ask.


    <<I am charged with showing you the way to the Faewoods,>> she said, though she seemed as if she wished to say more.


    <<I see.>> I nodded, not understanding the implications, and turned to the others. <<And you?>>


    <<I am to teach you our arcane machinations.>> Corym said, causing me to grin wide in excitement.


    But then Abbot Eiriol traced her slender finger over my hand. <<I am to teach you of this.>> She snickered. <<But only after you master the ways of your path.>>


    <<There is another, Young Champion.>> Corym added. <<A high-elf who is to teach you of Elven ritual magic. Though they are not here, we are told they will find you when you are ready.>>


    <<Very well.>> Impatient to get on with the night, I eagerly bowed whilst backpedaling away. <<And thank you for the gifts.>>


    They bowed their dismissal and departed without another word, giving me the solitude I needed to try out this Identify skill and get back to the others to finalize my portfolio.


    As the arcane words implied, using the skill required me to mold the ambient mana around the object and concentrate for about six to ten seconds. Concentrating, in this context, implied turning the object around before my eyes, feeling the fabrics, the stitching, and most importantly, the magic as deeply as I could before the ambient mana surrounding me coalesced into words.


    [The Fae Runner¡¯s Night Heels aids the wearer in acts that require stealth, speed, and agility, and mutes the wearer¡¯s movements at will while within dim light or darkness.]


    [The Elven Gloves of Floral Handling grants the wearer the means to imbue plant life with temporary sentience for the sake of conversation, and simultaneously gives the wearer limited control over plants.]


    [Raven¡¯s Ring of Animal Speaking is an accursed ring that requires the wearer''s life essence to speak with animals. If the wearer is a necromancer or undead, however, this is negated and instead, the wearer can speak with deceased fauna.]


    ¡°Fascinating!¡± I let the ring join the last few items swirling around me. It seemed to be a relatively unremarkable ring made of wood and perhaps ivory, carved with the likeness of many animals around its circumference. A ruse, I now realize; and began to assume that its true form- whatever that was- would show once it¡¯d been attuned with a new owner.


    Fascinating indeed, and rather uncanny, were the last few items, a drow-made tunic, bracers, and a Greater Piwiff- a gossamer and somehow Mithral-threaded magical cloak that¡¯d been improved upon with acid-resistant materials- all embroidered with the same markings spread across my stomach and chest.


    As great, and uncanny as it was, I had no use for anything other than the tunic and bracers and perhaps the ring. The boots had the added benefit of increasing my speed while the Piwiff worked as camouflage in the Darkworld as well as a shield from the sun. Things I had no real use for. The gloves were nice in the sense that they gave me control over plants like orcs, but I quickly saw how slippery a slope conversing with plants could be, so they were placed into storage along with the other items and the ring.


    My connection to it aside, the ring, I had a use for. Or perhaps not, if I were to believe Indra¡¯s teasing words. Either way, I wanted a druid in my squad and more, I intended to dissect each gift to figure out how they worked and, hopefully, improve upon them for my legions. Regardless, I slipped it on and attuned to it with a small burst of mana without delay and stepped off at once, eager to test it out. However, an accursed presence soon pulled my attention away from the sudden darkening of the ring, bringing my eyes around to see a hulking, horned figure slouching forward from the shadows.


    ¡°I assume you want to get this over with as soon as possible?¡± I mockingly laughed through the darkness, sending waves of haunting whispers rippling toward the ancient ears of Zorrenor Knagh. "The beginning of the year is always a bit hectic; am I right?¡±


    He halted mid-step, just before stepping into the gentle radiance of Mani, my moon, and took a deep sigh. Almost as if he needed to mentally prepare for the act, he took a final, great step forward, placing his overbearing, yet diminutive frame just within arms reach.


    ¡°What is this deal you proposed?¡± He resignedly sighed.


    ¡°First, I must say that I lack the time and the inclination to go through with this at the moment. But.¡± I gave him a pained smile. ¡°I¡¯m willing to meet in the middle. Beware, however, of the fact that this deal will in no way benefit you. Your only benefit is that I don''t curse you and will take no further actions against you.


    ¡°I would ask if that applies to your... subordinates, as well?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± I nodded.


    ¡°And your undead?¡±


    ¡°Naturally.¡± I nodded again.


    ¡°...I am listening.¡±


    ¡°There will be six clauses to our agreement,¡± I said, holding out my thumb to count. ¡°First, you will grant me sixty-six parcels of land from your territories, one hundred square kilometers each. Second, I will have the first right to recruit the next two classes of students to attend the Bodhi Tree. Third.¡± I grinned wickedly. ¡°I will harvest one branch of my choosing from the Bodhi Tree.¡±


    His face wrinkled with equal parts wrath and terror, but he could do nothing but resign his fate and listen, much to my glee, as my next demands would surely put him on edge.


    ¡°The fourth clause is a divine tree seed from the Bodhi Tree and the knowledge of how to cultivate it and use it to its fullest extent- all the knowledge you know of it. Including the aphids.¡± His grimace tightened while my grin widened. ¡°I¡¯ll be taking that tonight along with the branch. And the parcels will be taken by the end of the month. Once the Millennial Class completes their mid-year festival, I¡¯ll return for your dominant eye and your non-dominant hand, thus completing the fifth clause and finalizing our deal.


    ¡°The sixth won¡¯t go into effect until after your inevitable death,¡± I explained in response to his silent inquiry. ¡°Rather than your soul or your flesh, your spirit will belong to me in death. Your Mana Well and your affinity for Love.


    ¡°A small price to pay for a continued- if not fleeting- existence, is it not?¡±


    ¡°Begrudgingly so.¡± He growled through clenched teeth. ¡°But I must know, why the seed? You are guaranteed to get one in but two short years.¡±


    ¡°While I¡¯ll tell you that it¡¯s none of your business, I¡¯ll also tell you that it¡¯s for an experiment.¡± I smiled warmly. ¡°Let¡¯s hope you live long enough to see it. Though I and neither shall my subordinates, nor my undead, raise our hands against you.


    ¡°So, Zorrenor Knagh, do we have a deal?¡±

 227 - Divinely Profiled

    ¡°Apologies for the delay!¡± I announced my final return to Noctis Reach with a resounding shout, sending the newly christened Captains into a hastened frenzy of cheers and applause that morphed into shocked gasps and confirmatory jeers once I came to a halt with an illusory display of Telin¡¯s Blessings and the Eternal Path orbiting around me.


    ¡°I am a devil of my word.¡± I bowed in mid-air above the writhing mass of bodies before starting my slow descent to the central dais. ¡°And you all made of pact with me. Whether you all have realized the implications of this is something we¡¯ll soon find out. That aside, however, I am a God. I met the creator of this universe just before I was born in Maru and just now received his blessings. He is the source of mana and the reason behind the portals¡¯ appearance. His name is Telin. I, Amun, am his Champion.


    ¡°I am his Cleric, but a Cleric unlike any other. I walk the Eternal Path. The path to that leads beyond Godhood. Thus I do not pray to or worship him. But.¡± I dismissed the path in favor of making the blessings large enough for all of them to read. ¡°That¡¯s not the important part right now. These are.¡°


    ¡°So that¡¯s why we got so lucky with our affinities.¡± Jaimess laughed wryly from his place on my left. ¡°Though, I suppose it wasn¡¯t luck, but divine intervention.¡±


    ¡°Not quite. As I said, I just received this blessing. That was all you.¡± I grinned, then pointed first at the illusion before turning my finger towards Jaimess. ¡°The second blessing, however, Telin¡¯s Sight, is the most important. It allows me to see your paths to the end and the rewards you''ll receive for them. Or, in other words.¡± I smirked. ¡°I know that your game of tag set you down the path of a Prestige Ranger Class of legendary proportions. The Divine Beast Tamer.


    ¡°And you two.¡± I turned to face Roheisa¡¯s steel-hued eyes before turning to study the likeness of her knight. ¡°You, Roheisa, are on the path of the Vulcanox Berserker. But you can multi-class into a paladin as well, and, like her.¡± I gestured to her knight. ¡°You can become a Valkyrie. But, then again, she''s not only a Valkyrie."


    ¡°I- I can?¡± Roheisa¡¯s eyes faltered as she stammered. Down they fell, in confusion, before rising in sudden disbelief. ¡°You¡¯re a Valkyrie?¡± She asked her knight softly.


    In turn, Lucia nodded proudly. ¡°Queen Valkyrie.¡±


    Meanwhile, I turned to my knight. ¡°From what I can see, you have the most options, Toril. Depending on your oath, you can either go the undead servant monarch route or continue down the path of the Storm Thief. Or, you can mix them up and take up this¡­ Oath of the Undying Tempest. But, as always, it¡¯s up to you.


    ¡°And the same goes for the lot of you,¡± I shouted, turning to the waiting crowd. ¡°By the end of this night, I will share with you your paths, but I will not give you the knowledge of how to level up in them. That is already within your capabilities. Thus instead, I will guide you. Or rather, the class you have obtained by making a pact with me will show you the way down your paths.


    ¡°You are all Prestige Warlocks: Prime Noctis Legionaries. Or, you will be once I finalize the specifics of the path, as I did for Hogaz. But that comes later. First, we raise our towers. And after I take care of a few more things, we¡¯ll celebrate the month away. So, uh.¡± I turned my awkward gaze over the others. ¡°Just give me a minute.¡±


    Few, if any, understood what was truly in store for them. But all of them gained enough trust in me over the last six months to just go along with it no matter how crazy it sounded, giving me the peace I needed to peruse the immense database of knowledge that came with Godhood.


    It wasn¡¯t long into that endeavor when Mani spotted one of the items on my list of things to take care of, making its way to the tower. A pair of them, traveling in tandem under the light of the moon. Thus I split the task between my separate minds and waited patiently for Doyle and Olga to descend into the foyer.


    While Doyle declared his reasoning behind his appearance with the full zeal of a devoted cleric, Olga remained behind him, sunken into herself like a crab seeking solace within its shell. He, of course, intended to sell his soul for a truth he would have received anyway. So, while he scoured his mind for another dream, I scoured his spirit for any hidden paths. But alas, the only one to be seen was the one he told me about. Fighter, a Battle Mage of a relatively high level. However, his next words and a mention of something called a proxy gave me the perfect idea for his placement.


    He wanted to walk under the light of the moon for the rest of his days. And so, I decided he would and, agreeing to his terms, infused moonlight into my words as I uttered my compliance. Opening up new baths to him while I turned my attention to Olga.


    Still, she seemed apprehensive. I knew of what she dreamed of and I knew, for fear of the unlikely truth, that she was hesitant to say it. ¡°I just want to live." She muttered at last. "Do I have to sell my soul to do that?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I quickly shook my head and smiled as I gazed upon the moon, imagining what I would create from it. ¡°This tower will be changing soon,¡± I said, not moving my gaze. ¡°You can live in what it¡¯s to become. Just give me a few hours to make it.


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    ¡°As for you.¡± I turned, motioning silent details of Doyle¡¯s fate to my subordinates while I said to Doyle, ¡°I have a special job lined up.¡±


    ¡°I am in your care.¡± He bowed low, hardly concealing the great smile spread across his face.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be a while though,¡± I assured him with a low chortle. ¡°So consider the time until then as a vacation. Now, uh¡­. Just give me a minute.¡± I turned an awkward gaze over the others while I drifted into the air. ¡°I need to make my Divine Profile.¡±


    Not the wisest choice of words, in retrospect, as the crowd surged forward as I drifted out of reach. Each set of eyes, desperate to get the first glimpse of any changes brought to my body, fought over the next pair for the best view in the house. If there ever was one.


    Turning my attention away from them, I killed my relative velocity after drifting a few dozen meters above the crowd and turned my thoughts inwards to provoke the ever-present wall of energy before me into reforming into words and glyphs and symbols I could make sense of.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s interesting,¡± I muttered to myself after a few moments. Though I supposed the more apt word was amazing.


    It was¡­ complex to say the least. A deity''s very existence influenced everything in their profile, which was powered by faith. In this way, a deity couldn¡¯t alter their profile just by willing it so, but in return, they were able to affect mortals in ways that ranged from visions to blessings that touched entire species to class abilities and, as I saw with the Captains, create new subclasses altogether. As vast and complex as it was, however, there were five essential aspects to any Divine Profile: Alignment, Nature, Species, Aspects, and Domains.


    Alignment and Nature were the simplest, with the first stating I was chaotically neutral and the second being both the designators people most often used to describe me as a God and the divine classifications granted to me due to my lifestyle. Designators as in being called the God of Freedom, Duality, Change, and Devils. Classifications in the sense of me being one of many Gods of Nature, a Marulean God, and a God associated with Fae. In that way, they somewhat bled into the Species innately or otherwise associated with my entire being, not just a domain. Namely Devils; Umbra Draconis: Shadow Dragons; and¡­ Elven Devils.


    The implications of that aside, the other Species within my portfolio consisted of those that either revered me, as the devils would, were I not a rogue, creatures in the Menagerie, or my favorite creatures. Regardless of the type, they were now considered physical manifestations of my divine essence, either partially or wholly. Like Mygalomorphae to the Drow-Goddess Lilith, shadow dragons, wolves, orcas, owls, and a couple of other animals would be divided across my domains and exalted in my pantheon and thus were tagged to be tracked and ¡®recruited¡¯ at once.


    On the other hand, my Aspects directly influenced my Domains. I- and every other deity- could only have four, but those four could have four sub-domains and a potentially infinite number of Aspects associated with them, though they were limited to our interests, knowledge, skills, abilities, and, most importantly, the interpretations of those who had faith in me. In essence, the Aspects were ways my followers could worship me and were simultaneously actions that would become buffed with divine mana while I performed them. Naturally, the domains decided the powers granted to our clerics.


    My four wound up being the Moonlight, Twilight, Engineering, and- due to my connection with Telin- Mana; and each of those encompassed a wide range of things.


    Mani and its light, for instance, had been an object for people to gaze upon and dream since it was first woven. Shortly after, it began to affect animals and the tides. Many had grown to depend on it for nighttime navigation across the lands and seas and had begun to refer to the skies surrounding the First World as a great sea. thus Light merged with Darkness; Illusions or dreams; Creation via Destruction; and the ¡®Seas'' of the World were part of that domain; or simply World Seas. So too, however, did the Domain of Moonlight encompass aspects of freedom, change, exploration, darkness with light, gravity, and a few others. As for the Moon¡¯s creatures, it encompassed Cervidae, or true deer, as well as Canids, Cetaceans, Cephalopods, and Lepidoptera.


    Twilight, having been likened to Stars and fantasized about in the Darkworld below, grew to have both of those aspects on top of the sub-domains of Purity and Corruption; Life and Death; Curses and Deals; and Light and Darkness; with minor aspects of leisure, exploration, stealth, transitions, freedom, and other things. The creatures contained within, on the other hand, were crepuscular creatures of the Menagerie. Strigiformes, Felidae, Rodentia, Serpents, and Mustelids.


    Naturally, Engineering was the most exciting domain for me. The four sub-domains consisted of Civilizations, Militaries or Guilds, Industry, and Science. With those alone, I could take my MagiTech Military-Industrial Empire to heights even I couldn¡¯t have conceived. Yet the animals contained within were just as fascinating. Isoptera, Hymenoptera, Araneomorphae, Simians, and of course, Castor. The architects and engineers of the animal kingdom.


    And then there was Mana, the most overpowered domain of all, for its first sub-domain was the very Universe; the three fundamental forces I had as magical affinities along with space-time and mana itself. So too did it encompass Evolution. It encompassed affinity cores as well- with those even being incorporated into the path¡¯s rewards. Lastly, it encompassed Sorcery, which was fair, I supposed, considering Faenya was the Goddess of Wizardry on top of being the Goddess of Magic- my mirror, as my mother so eloquently put it.


    But then there were the creatures associated with the mana domain. If I could have even called them such. Wise Rocks and Divine Trees. Evolved Mystics; Magic or Divine Creatures- or anything born from or changed by mana, for that matter; and perhaps most interestingly of all, Paragons. With aspects of mana molding, mana wells, mana casting, classes, and more, I would be able to, in one sense or another, grant abilities that even I didn''t have to my followers. Or, in some cases, gain new abilities entirely. Abilities that my blessings gave me no hint of discerning. So, without waiting any longer, I gave everything a final look-through before I mentally finalized the options.


    Then, I started preparing for the return of that immense pressure I felt just a short while ago.


    It was time to become divine.

 228 - Renovations

    A sudden flash of the arcane web before my eyes triggered the evolution, releasing the excessive pressure I felt earlier and condensing it in a cylindrical space below my spiritual heart, where it boiled like a volcano waiting to blow.


    [Prestige Cleric: The Eternal Path - Step One. Complete.]


    [Evolution: [Divine Well] - The Divine Well compiles the faith generated from your followers inside your spiritual body and molds that faith into pure divine mana.]


    I could hardly read the words, as the immensely overbearing feeling soon exploded outwards in a conical shape while simultaneously bursting upwards to bury itself deep in my skull. One forced my back to arch in pain while the other compelled me to reel forward in the air, clutching my head as the pain only intensified, and the words continued.


    [Evolution: [Divine Pool] - This is the pool that leaks out into your Clerics, Paladins, Warlocks, or most devoted Clergy, granting them powers far beyond their station in exchange for their faith.]


    I forced myself to read on as the feeling bloomed, spreading out towards my eyes while the proverbial sun in the center of my brain burned ever-hotter.


    [Evolution: [Divine Sight] - The Eyes of the Divine enables you to see true, and grants you the means to see the faith of your followers as a visible aura hugging their flesh.]


    The pain grew almost intolerable just before it faded in a blinding flash not unlike the one that began this unpleasant process. Tentatively, I took a deep breath and felt hardly any difference in my body, yet there were still words lingering before my hungry eyes.


    [Evolution: [Credence Cortex] - This spiritual cortex gives you the means to interact with the cerebral cortex of your faithful and communicate with them by manipulating their emotions, senses, and memories. Thus enabling you to convey your word or guide your flock from afar.]


    [Level 2: [The Holy and Unholy Word] - Your path to perpetuity continues first by creating your divine realm, and second, by having your existing Clerics mold one of your faithful into a priest or priestess. They must then build a temple or church erected in your name and staff your clergies before holding the first service in your honor.]


    A seemingly arduous task for them, but I got what I wanted nonetheless. Divine mana was now in my arsenal and my two Clerics were made official. More so, they were to pray for the spells they wished to use, unlike Hogaz, who was the mercy of my choosing for not only his tasks but the perks he gained as well, which was a huge plus in my eye, as that would come to translate to every Legionary that would come to be.


    Speaking of Hogaz, I didn''t need to study him to see he was both Seeker of Mani and a Noctis Legionary. First, a sorcery of Lunacy and then one of my warlocks, a Prime Noctis Legionary. Thus he had two responsibilities merged into one. He was still to be an investigator of the arcane, obscure, and verboten. He was still the Seeker of the strange monoliths scattered across the southern lands by the ever-watching moon and a soon-to-be explorer of the World Seas. Now, for my Legions, he would command the greatest fleet of privateers, pirates, sailors, or whatever else could exist on the open waters. As such, there was little I had to do regarding his progress. Unlike the others.


    That wasn¡¯t to say it was all bad, however. On the contrary, the founding members being Prestige Warlocks was infinitely more auspicious than I could have imagined. There were 10 ranks in the Legions as of now, so it was all too easy to split the 20 steps of the warlock path among the ranks and have the tasks fall into line with the orders I¡¯d already planned to give them. Conversely, the same would apply to all the Master Class Legionaries who would come in the future.


    As for the rewards, the class made it all the easier to truly make the founders the deities of my pantheon. It allowed me to grant them ritual necromancy. It would allow for buffs and auras that would affect their civilian, military, scientific, or industrial roles. It would allow their followers to gain resistance or immunity to their magic, allow them to manipulate their magic, or even cast it as a warlock. Everyone in Toril¡¯s Legion, for example, could come to be immune or resistant to, be able to manipulate, and eventually possess analogs of his magic, allowing him to use his magic freely. On top of that, it would also align with my ambitions to turn them into the deities of my pantheon. Complete with domains that would affect everyone beneath them.


    The exceptions were, of course, Urshure and Bazzric. However, that wasn¡¯t to say they weren¡¯t my warlocks as well. On the contrary, their respective patrons, Tiamat and Sutark, essentially agreed to share so long as my ambitions continued to fall in line with theirs. Tiamat, it turned out, was quite happy about my deal with Cononthoth. Thus she changed Urshure¡¯s path to revolve around creating a clan of shadow dragonborne and, of course, finding more venerable dragons for me to corrupt with shadow. Sutark, on the other hand, altered Bazzric¡¯s path to have him learn how to create from me, in turn bringing his destructive potential to new heights.


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


    With all that said, I took as much time as was needed to fill out the prestige and master variants of the class, ensuring the founders and future Imperators would forever remain the pinnacle of this organization. Even then, however, I was still a bit chagrined about it. There was still much research and development to do before we obtained technological superiority, thus I wanted to wait. Not to mention, our final training regiment hadn¡¯t been established. However, their subordinates going through such a regiment in just six months was the cutoff for their rapid rise through the ranks. After that, the Legions would be fully realized.


    Off paper, at least.


    "Alright." I looked down and immediately recoiled at the small sea of gaping mouths below me. A few of them were in tears. Doyle was even on his knees. All of them were covered in auras of golden or pale light and stared at me as if they''d never seen anything like me, giving me nothing to do but stare uncomfortably as I landed and asked. "What?


    "Is there something on my face?" I spawned my Doppelganger in response to their silence and began picking at his face while he picked at mine. "I don''t look different. What about this?" I lifted his shirt just as he did mine, and just like his, my eyes grew wide. "Woah!"


    "Woah!"


    Our marks, a leafless tree set before a semicircle drawn over my ribcage, had one drastic change. The ring of what used to be darkness behind the tree growing from my navel was now glowing with a pale vibrancy like the moon just outside. And my Doppelganger''s mark glowed with the golden radiance of twilight.


    Although we felt no different, the change was there and worse, everyone couldn''t stop staring. So with an annoyed huff, we quickly covered our marks and went our separate ways, he into the surrounding lands and me into the air once more.


    "With that done, we can move on." I looked at Toril with a sigh and gave him a nod. "To the shores."


    "To the shores!" His arm raised towards the vast entryway, Toril turned to belay the words while Jaimess followed with a responding shout.


    "Paddy!"


    As one, the Captains shuffled into an east-facing formation after a flick of my arm spread a curtain-shaped domain in front of the arched entryway. And then came the fall of Toril''s hand.


    As one, the westernmost rank conjured torches, spiraled gusts of wind, and flapped wings alike to take to the air and soar above the rank in front of them, eagerly waiting for them to pass so that they too could take off. And in a cascading wave, the captains leaped, darted, skipped, or swung behind their peers while yet more took up position behind them. Forming a constant stream of bodies to pass through the purple-hued film, and with the hold of gravity released from their bodies, they coasted to the eastern shores in a conical formation until they eventually reformed into a terrace of bodies that reached from the muddy shores of the outer rings to the cloud deck overlooking the groves.


    Meanwhile, I was on the ''floating'' deck rimming the base of the tower. Standing at the center of an innocuous drainage hole near the edge, I looked upon the glory of the tower for the final time. "Just as we rehearsed." I grinned to myself. Then, after a deep breath to temper my thoughts, I leaped up and struck the plugged hole with a void-filled palm.


    The destructive energies of the Void Whip passed through the pre-established lines of the tower''s base unabated. Like a river running in reverse, it split at the base and spread to encircle the compound, eager to flow outwards to the other drainage canals as if in flight from the wall of gravitational mana chasing after it.


    With its rounds around the base complete, the platform buckled and soon stilled suddenly, yet the Whip of Void had yet to cease its rampage. It passed harmlessly through pre-bored canals and tunnels on its way up the tower, disregarding the floors in favor of chewing through the grooved or otherwise marked stone layered between the floors and wings to separate those too, sending them floating lazily within the growing cloud of stone.


    Only once the grove- the last piece of the dismantled tower- had been separated, did the flow reverse. As if gravity had suddenly returned, the entropic river flowed down those chasms, tunnels, and holes it bored to converge at a point on the surface of the lake to pause for a long second.


    Then, its reaching continued.


    Its downward spiral into the dark freed my attention from it, moving my concentration to the dancing boulders above and the still seas around me. With one hand, I agitated those still seas by spawning dozens of Artificial Wells to pull at the water and draw it towards the dancing boulders above. Simultaneously, those boulders were guided to their respective owners by my other hand. The majority of them at least. The chemical plant, workshops, library, and other industrial or social spaces were kept above with the remnants of my floor; but kept separate. Meanwhile, the waters kept being pulled and the pillar of void continued its downward spiral. The lake continued draining until the muddy basin was illuminated by the Moon''s gentle light for the first time in relative decades, giving all who looked upon it a clear view of the curtain of impenetrable darkness rising from the depths of the Mortal Plane.


    As if it were a representation of the closure of the tower''s short life, the curtain rose a few dozen meters above the ground before allowing a silvery blanket to encompass its open ceiling. And with a flick of my finger, it was gone. In its place was a reversed waterfall of dirt, stone, bedrock, magma, and eventually, towering mushrooms, columns of highly compressed metals, and exotic materials born from the Mortal Plane¡¯s depths, all falling upwards into a silvery mirror of arcane radiance that disappeared it from this plane of existence.


    On and on it flowed into that silver mirror, disappearing uncountable tons of matter while tiny pebbles of an arcane nature were thrown and hurled at the planetoids above by the Captains, reforming their pie-shaped wings into shards and platforms and spheres before they compressed once more into bracelets and rings and buttons.


    When all that remained of the once grandiose Noctis Reach was a chasm that led to the deepest bowels of the Mortal Plane, I cast one final spell before turning my gaze to the full moon above. Then I took to the northern skies with my comrades in tow, leaving the distant sounds of cascading rocks fading behind me.

 229 - Into the Moonlight

    Olga Godzuik.


    ***


    ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it!¡±


    ¡°Hopefully not.¡± I turned away from Doyle with a dejected sigh. Though I had to admit, the view was spectacular.


    We hadn¡¯t been in the air for a full five minutes before I started to get overwhelmed. The wind was tolerable at first, if not loud. Then it grew unbearable. Bugs started smacking me in the face. The wind began pressing into my skin. And I was too enamored with the scrolling landscape to look towards the others for the remedy. Seeing my plight, Doyle took it upon himself to bring me into his cone of displaced air. A meager feat for him, considering he was a Nimbuan with Cloud Magic. Though looking around, everyone else found some means to adapt. Even the ones who couldn¡¯t manipulate the elements displayed no discomfort about being dragged through the skies at speeds that could compete with the fastest-flying creatures in existence. Some wore conical hats or flew ass-first, allowing their limbs to dangle loosely behind them. Others, like the barbarians, goliaths, or the Amazonian Warriors, simply accepted the challenge and endured.


    My time for enjoying such things was long gone. As it was for Doyle and Zeff, I assumed, yet the former still wanted to fight and the latter still wanted to teach, even though we all hung up our cowls years and years ago. Even though we hung up our cowls, I was the only one to find myself in the sweet embrace of retirement.


    As I gazed upon the so-called Captains of the Legio Noctis, spread apart in a conical formation behind their leader, they seemed much different from what they seemed to be just a year ago. They were disciplined. Bonded. United. Fearless. Wise. Much different from any graduate of the Bodhi Tree thus far. I wasn¡¯t capable of teaching them to such a degree. I learned that months ago. I wasn¡¯t able or willing to fight alongside them either. Nor was I capable of continuing to teach at that overbearing structure in the far distance. The Bodhi Tree- that God''s forsaken place was no different from everywhere else people dwelled. Corrupted by politics and ill manners. It wasn¡¯t where I belonged. However¡­ it was what brought me here.


    Fate, as the silver-haired man next to me so strongly believed, was what brought me to the Bodhi Tree and led me to meet the strange being ahead of me. He too seemed much different from what he was just a year ago. He was still unnervingly handsome as elves were, and also charismatic, wise, intelligent, and powerful. For a time, he seemed exceedingly dangerous. Now, however, I felt he was extraordinarily benevolent.


    I couldn¡¯t say that I believed him when he first claimed to be a God. Nor did a disbelieve him, though. If anyone had the power and knowledge to be one, as many have stated, it would be him. But what I- what we witnessed back there was unmistakable. What I felt made me realize his words were the absolute truth. But like many others, there was more that I needed to know. And since I now lived under his wing, by his rules, I was subject to the truth.


    ¡°What was that?¡± I scrambled through the air toward him just after we stopped above a mountain range, paying no heed to Doyle or his inquiring gazes.


    Yet Amun, ever aloof and amiable, simply smiled and waited for the rest of his companions to huddle around him. ¡°As per The Rules of Death, I¡¯m obligated to curse, kill, or make a deal with anyone who found a way to cheat death,¡± Amun explained to both myself and the others. ¡°There are exceptions of course.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But Headmaster Zorrenor Knagh is not one of them.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± I instinctively backpedaled, feeling the danger once again.


    ¡°I do not wish to kill or harm him.¡± Amun continued unabated. ¡°And he¡¯s been cursed so much that I don¡¯t have the patience to find a new way to condemn him. So, I made a deal with him. Part of that deal involves sixty-six parcels of land.¡± He waved to the rocky lands below. ¡°One hundred square kilometers each. As you''ve just witnessed, however.¡± Amun paused, turning a wicked grin over the crowd. ¡°That includes everything above and below it as well. The tower and the land before us make a total of ten parcels, for me and my future party. A parcel for each of you leaves just ten. Or eight if I count you two.¡± He pointed his chin at Doyle and me in a crude gesture.


    ¡°I invite you to find your favorite locations in the wilds and mark them. They¡¯ll be used to weave your worlds. That,¡± he emphasized with a raised finger, ¡°is the one task I have for you this month.¡±


    The Captains voiced their affirmations at once, giving me the moment needed to invoke an intense wave of foolishness in myself by raising my hand. ¡°Uhm. What makes this place so special?¡±


    ¡°My Doppelganger has been exploring the Darkworld for the last six months.¡± Amun casually explained, forcing me to recoil in shock. Although I recanted my actions a moment later.


    ¡°Not against the rules, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°He came upon a gray dwarf stronghold while he was down here.¡± Amun continued. ¡°He, Lana, and Zaraxus killed them all, raised them as undead, and freed their slaves. Some of them will be subordinates for you Captains, I imagine.¡± He motioned to the others. ¡°But the rest who choose not to join will remain as the first citizens of my divine realm.


    "And they¡¯re directly below us.¡± Doyle needlessly concluded as he so often did.


    ¡°Not for long.¡± Amun grinned, then in a blinding motion, released another pillar of that absurdly dark sorcery into the bowels of the mountain.


    What ensued was a similar display of what used to be the tower, so far away, minus the silver mirror that transported it somewhere else. Instead, my eyes bore witness to an invisible drill withdrawing a pristine cubical core of dirt, water, rock, and magma from the Mortal Plane and erecting it high above the lands. Higher than the White Wall, it seemed, for its peak long since disappeared before the first minute of rising stone passed. Yet it ascended for several more before it slowly ground to a halt.


    Gradually, my eyes mimicked everyone else''s and fell the long way down to the ambiguous section of moist, fungal-infested stone just before us to stare expectantly at a dank cave housing a slim figure.


    It was¡­ Amun. Or rather, his Doppelganger, waving at the original while he grasped the hand of a figure just behind him. And with a gentle pull, he sent them drifting out towards us.


    Another soon came. Then another. And then ten more and ten more after that until eventually, hundreds and hundreds more shockingly well-mannered individuals of a half-dozen species were seen drifting among us, exchanging tentative pleasantries whenever they weren¡¯t marveling at the almost infinite landscape spread out below us. But still, the cavern belched out hundreds and hundreds more.


    Of them all, I only spotted around a dozen or so dwarves unsurprisingly crowded around Thordrohilda and her compatriots. But what was more shocking was the orcs engaged in intense but well-intentioned conversation with them. Hundreds of deep gnomes were seen floating all about. Short as a halfling like all gnomes, with elvish ears and the same optimism found in their surface cousins, they weren¡¯t as uncommon on the surface as gray dwarves, drow, or the ever-elusive dark halfling, but their reactions to the light found in the realms above were just the same as the others. On this night, however, they stared up at the Moon with glistening eyes and quivering mouths. All but one, who clambered as hard as she could towards one of the vampires who had yet to stop her prayers.


    Hundreds of orcs and hundreds more goblins dominated the cloud of bodies around the indomitable pillar. Most were fawning over the moon with somewhat less intensity than the deep gnomes. More were having surprisingly intellectual conversations with the new humans before them. And yet, a minority of them were pointing out dales and copses along the mountain range and whispering words about erecting new strongholds.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Of the thousands of bodies present, though, only two were even remotely surprised by the situation. Me and Doyle. Though deep in my mind, I knew we weren¡¯t the only ones. Further to the north and deeper to the south, hundreds of billions of individuals were repeating our current actions. Innumerous eyes spread across Nonus were looking above just as we were. Engrossed at the pillar that seemed to stretch onto infinity, yet unknowing of the thousands of bodies spawned from its bowels.


    Emptied now, those bowels were, thus the pillar of matter surged once more and began accelerating upward. Slowly, at first. But with a pace that hastened with each passing second. Up and up and up it went, while more ground spat out and out from below.


    For minutes and minutes, dense rock and magma and rare metals rocketed past until the dense foundations came racing past, releasing a haunting wail of stifling air into the otherwise quiet night, and after what felt like an eternity of existence, the pillar disappeared in an instant. So too did Amun. In their place was a chasm filled with an almost inviting darkness. It seemed to pull at me as we descended ever so slowly towards the surface- towards the Amun of Twilight, the Doppelganger, waiting patiently for us to land.


    Once my feet met the ground, I did as before and approached him with full haste, thirsting for a glimpse of the future that I chose. ¡°So, what happens next?¡±


    He turned halfway to me and smiled softly as he whispered low, uttering words I heard at least once before, thus bringing me to look down just my shadow formed into an exact copy of myself.


    ¡°Now we wait!¡± My clone gave me a lighthearted shove. ¡°Get to know people. Or, go out and pick your territory. Amun¡¯s creating our home now.¡± She turned her gaze to the pale orb floating high above. ¡°It won¡¯t be long.¡±


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    Under the relentless tug of gravity, I was pulled high above the atmosphere toward the surface of the hollow moon, yet, it too was being pulled away from me.


    Higher and higher I fell, and at a faster and faster rate until, at last, I crested the summit of the ever-present White Wall, some 15 light minutes to the north. Yet, it wasn¡¯t until I was some 400,000 klicks above the Mortal Plane that I landed and looked up from the surface of the moon to see the 1400 megameter-long pillar racing to catch up to me.


    Ignoring it entirely, I focused instead on splitting my concentration between the living brace around my left arm, the acorn orbiting me, the dusty surface of the world below my feet, and the new organ in my spiritual body. While tiny in comparison to my Mana Well, the energy within my Divine Well was far more potent and was fed by a healthy stream of faith from the uncountable set of eyes that gazed upon the moon every night.


    This action would serve as the first time I truly used the stuff and would indeed be one of the rare occasions I''d be able to use it freely. Thus I released every restriction imaginable on both my mind and the pores before I split the flow of divine mana and arcane affinities between the three objects of my concentration.


    Within seconds, rather than minutes, a subtle scratching notion began to claw at the back of my mind. Giving me the notion, or rather, a compulsion to find a nice piece of land to call home. My wise rock had matured, yet I continued the flow until my divine seed germinated.


    Much like the Bodhi Tree, it was a seed of massive proportions. Akin to the size of a beach ball, but with the irregular shape of a nut that¡¯d been broken apart to reveal an exposed rib of arcane flesh. Like my arcana, that flesh glowed with a seafoam green radiance while the wood-like coat of the seed grew ever-darker, revealing rows upon rows of strange glyphs, symbols, and markings that soon started to glow with the same arcane light.


    For seconds and then upwards of a minute, the flow continued until suddenly, the radicle swung away from the seed. Yet, the acorn had yet to germinate. It continued to inhale my divine mana, but its hunger morphed into avarice. With invisible hands, it reached into my spirit to latch onto my Mana Well and withdraw from it every ounce of my arcana. Through every affinity core in my body, the energy passed on its path to absorption by the embryonic root until the seed, satisfied with my emptied Well, glowed in spirited arcane radiance.


    Eager to sink its flesh into the first bit of material it could find, the solitary root reached out every which way. But like the Wise Rock, it would have to wait. My ambitions were much higher than some tower or a great tree, after all. So, with my astral ambitions in mind, I entered the vast rift on the surface to look upon the nigh-infinite darkness of Mani¡¯s interior, using the blissful silence to imagine what the place would become until the horns of the oncoming train sounded.


    With a wave, I merged those mental images with an abundance of Moonlight, Twilight, Engineering Essence, and Divine Mana, plus a touch of Death, Darkness, and Void before mixing them with excessive concentrations of Space-Time, Electromagnetism, Gravity, and Nuclear magics; and finally spread the amalgamated energy, not just to the interior of Mani, but to the freight train of solid matter crashing into it.


    Naturally, the billowing invisible clouds of an atmosphere came first. Followed then by an uncountable volume of plants, animals, dirt, rocks, water, ore, gems, and magma that broke apart upon entry to form asteroid clusters, vast nebulae, and planetoids in the seemingly endless expanse of my divine realm. Simultaneously, the remnants of the tower and what sat below it were sent drifting indiscriminately throughout the space. And so too was nearly every rock, stick, metal shard, water drop, corpse, animal, or even a fragment of a seed I had stored in my combined magical dimensions. Even Karu and the Menagerie were released into the realm to feed on the divine energies while I carefully stacked, layered, and organized the material within.


    I took the most care with the metals. Roughly 75% of them were separated by melting point and layered like a spherical cake that''d been baked by dual streams of electromagnetic and nuclear magic to create a miniature metal star. Named Ilium, it was placed within a region suffused with my Engineering Essence, along with several other planetoids.


    What used to be the King¡¯s throne room in the former gray dwarf stronghold- the Shadeforge, served as the core for the second, larger body, and what used to be the Tower¡¯s storage room had been wrapped around that like a blanket. My old lab, observatory, and quarters followed and in turn were blanketed by the library, rec wing, and other areas of the tower along with patches of the forest and mountains far below. Thus completing the second body- my planetary ¡®star¡¯ and the center of this new universe.


    It was, by all rights, a pocket universe within the moon. The Twilight Domain realized into a divine realm befitting of the World Weaver. And its center, an onion of a white barren world that held biomes and estates and forests within its eleven layers.


    It was vast. It was grand. But still, it wasn¡¯t yet done.


    With a final burst of divine mana for good measure, I turned my attention inward to imagine a truly fantastical place. A home. Not just for myself. But for the Menagerie, the animals in my profile, and the party I would soon form before I hurled the pebble at the onion world.


    The release of the potent energy in my Divine Well brought about an immediate change in the form of a flash of gentle light that bathed the entire realm in a Twilight-esque glow. The moon within the moon swelled, brightened, and paled all at once as it repositioned itself in the newly formed cosmos while the remaining clouds of air, water, and land diffused, spread apart, or converged into abstract shapes or new worlds entirely.


    With the finish line close, I hurriedly released my thousands of undead workers before I spread my arms wide to watch the decades pass in seconds.


    As was quickly becoming the norm, cities were erected in the relative blink of an eye. Art galleries of legendary proportions were carved, drawn, or painted and released upon the worlds to be uncovered. New materials were discovered and researched; and, more importantly, the diverse range of flora and captured fauna lived and died and evolved under my divine energies without end. The most important of them was the quasi-sentient body floating high above. As the creatures within it matured, so too did the ¡®tower¡¯ until, sooner rather than later, hundreds of boulder-like growths began sprouting across its barren surface before they self-ejected into space.


    Naturally, every last one of them was captured gravitationally and amassed into a small asteroid that remained floating off to my left, leaving me with just one more thing to do. That said, the seed was germinated and the realm was complete. There was no need to spoil the surprise of seeing the final product. So, without thinking about it further, I sent the divine seed flying and watched it soar and land on the north pole with a silent thump.


    With a final round of time dilation, I watched the arcane roots bury themselves in the surface of my world and breach through the south pole while the stem reached out into the void above, fading in and out of existence as the leafless branches radiated the various arcane and divine attributes imbued within them; and as the divine tree matured, so too did the quasi-sentience of the vibrant body it grew from until the second legion of boulder-like growths self-ejected from the surface and were amassed into an asteroid that floated off to my right.


    With those asteroids orbiting me, I allowed the years to tick by with each passing second and left the realm entirely. Leaving the divine realm to grow and evolve and change until I returned with my followers to look upon the land for the first time.


    Just as a God of Exploration should.

 230 - New World

    Doyle Wolfgang.


    ***


    ¡°I wonder when I¡¯ll get my Doppelganger,¡± I thought aloud. And it wasn¡¯t the first time since we landed in these quiet woods that such a thought came to mind. Although quiet was a relative term. As a result of a chunk of the Mortal Plane being pulled into the sky, there were no sounds of animals breaking the stillness of the night. Only a cacophony of voices that ranged from shrill or serene to brutish and scholarly. And, of course, my dumb comments.


    ¡°What will I look for, in my new subordinates?¡± I wondered next. And it was a good question. from what I¡¯ve observed, the Captains were focused on forming parties- companies of over three hundred troops, which meant in time, I would too.


    My party consisted of Zeff and Olga back in the day, among several others. But that was a lost cause now. I was a bit too old to go searching for young blood, and it was difficult to teach old dogs new tricks. Not to mention the others. But regardless, I would remain undeterred.


    More so, I''d keep dreaming.


    ¡°I wonder what my training will be like.¡±


    ¡°Hell.¡± Came a deep, brooding voice cutting through the crowd.


    I turned towards it to see Toril pushing his way through to me with the rest of the Captains in tow, their eager faces and glistening eyes shouted louder than their boisterous greetings, putting me in quite an awkward position as I rose with my hands clasped before my chest.


    ¡°No need. No need.¡± Toril gently pulled my hand down before the crowd made their way around him. ¡°Your training hasn¡¯t started yet. You¡¯re on vacation. Enjoy it! It''s rare.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a little hard.¡± I chuckled dismally, dismayed by the strange amiability of the otherwise placid paladin and the absurdity of the strength behind his playful shove. ¡°My mind can¡¯t help but wonder about what¡¯s in store for me.¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re one of us now.¡± Toril carelessly shrugged. ¡°Ask away.¡±


    ¡°So¡­¡± I stuttered, unsure of where to even begin. ¡°We¡¯re a legion of explorers? And¡­ you¡¯re aiming to form parties? I guess my question is, what exactly does a Captain do?¡±


    ¡°Yes and yes, for the first two,¡± Jaimess explained with a short sigh. ¡°As for the last question, the short answer is, whatever you chose.¡±


    ¡°We have specialties.¡± Toril explicated. ¡°Mine is combat. War. His is diplomacy,¡± he then jerked his thumb at Jaimess, who quickly stepped in to clarify.


    ¡°I oversee diplomacy.¡± He glared at Toril sternly. ¡°I intend to find individuals suited to the more... demanding aspects of the job.¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure.¡± Ed calmed him with raised palms before saying, ¡°My focus is on the industry, including alchemy and enchanting. Me, and everyone under my command, including two more back in Maru, will focus on making toys for the legionaries and little else. However, We''ll be just as capable as any other Legion.¡±


    "Most." Toril snickered.


    ¡°As a result of my class, I¡¯ve decided to oversee rescue and recovery operations on the battlefield. Plus witchcraft, I suppose.¡± Lucia meekly stated before gesturing to her master. ¡°And Lady Roheisa has chosen to operate as a nomad, overseeing civil affairs.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s surprising.¡± I recoiled in place.¡°I¡¯m good at relating to people.¡± The volcanic princess shrugged, seemingly uncaring of the conversation as a whole.


    ¡°Well, I look forward to seeing your work.¡± I awkwardly sighed, then turned away from her still composure to look upon the rest of the Captains. ¡°And what of you all?¡±


    ¡°I create!¡± Elsgril crudely spat. ¡°Blades. Shields. Fortresses. Strongholds. Roads an'' bridges. I¡¯ll create anything fer anyone! But mostly fer me an'' mine! Hidden deep away from the thieving scum.¡± He gave a final sneer at the closest band of goblins and many of the other dwarves concurred with growls and low cheers, save Bazzric, who loudly declared his wish to make one stronghold so that he could create vehicles of mass destruction freely.


    The Goliaths, on the other hand, were intent on mixing their traditional nomadic raiding ways with the knowledge and technology given to them by Amun to form a new breed of nomadic tribes. The Amazonian Warriors wanted a wide range of historians, architects, and anthropologists and they were all too excited to train them into fighting shape. And of course, many of the others simply wished for artisans, courtesans, and other skillful types to live in their lands.


    ¡°And what of your classes?¡± I couldn¡¯t help but ask once my curiosity took a turn. ¡°Did anyone get anything special?¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah!¡± Toril snickered as he glanced at Jaimess, yet it was Mary who stepped forward first.


    ¡°I formed a new druidic sphere!¡± She beamed. And beamed further when she continued. ¡°The World Sphere!¡±


    The implications nearly brought me to my knees. ¡°Unbelievable,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°I¡¯m a Master Fighter, Scaled Battle Mage,¡± Winston said after her, driving the air further away from my lungs. Yet he pointed to the trio of monks. ¡°And they¡¯ve all received Master Classes as well.¡±


    ¡°The Merciful Way,¡± Rua Nun said.


    Then Peter. ¡°The Omni-Elemental Way.


    Followed by Veil of Shadows. ¡°The Way of Twilight.¡±


    ¡°W- how?¡± I muttered, fully knowing the answer.


    ¡°I am a Twilight Hunter.¡± Curious Twig declared as she stepped in, followed by the other rangers, Rebbecca, Smeal, and Toni.


    ¡°Plasma Stalker.¡±


    ¡°Settler.¡±


    ¡°Bog Warden.¡±


    ¡°The rogues are somewhere.¡± Zarzok chortled knowingly. ¡°But the Weasel is a¡­ well, a Phantom Weasel, the masked one is a Blizzard Shinobi, and the rich boy is a Grenadier. I, of course, am an Executioner.¡± He splayed his clawed fingers across his chest as he bowed, then rose to point an accusing finger at the male vampire.


    ¡°And Elijah here has some truly special paths open to him. Though, I don¡¯t want to spoil the surprise. And.¡± He condescendingly shrugged. ¡°He may not even take them.¡±


    ¡°Oh no, I will!¡± Elijah stepped forward quickly. ¡°The choice is obvious to me now. But, it¡¯s like you say.¡± He paused to face me and expose his sharp fangs in a knowing grin. ¡°Let¡¯s not spoil the surprise.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Toril stepped in, snorting, then stood by my side to look up to the Moon and whisper. ¡°We¡¯re all Prestige Warlocks too. Prime Noctis Legionaries. Although, Amun has yet to finalize the path, so we¡¯re stuck at step zed.¡±


    ¡°I-¡± I stammered, unable to find the words to respond to such a mind-breaking reveal. However¡­ ¡°I suppose that makes sense.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. You should speak with Amun when he¡¯s done. There may be a new path open to you now."


    ¡°You think so-¡±


    A sudden weight in the air pushed the words from my lungs, yet somehow pulled my widened eyes above. Even before my eyes landed on the object of nearly everyone¡¯s mind, I recognized the pressure for what it was immediately.


    It was unlike the overbearing, unrelenting pull of gravity, but a benevolent mist that lingered in the air. It was Amun¡¯s divine energy spreading from the brilliance of the moon, which now seemed much closer and far more voluminous than ever before.


    It swelled with each passing moment, pouring a gentle blue-white light into the darkness that charmed the creatures of the night into a harmonic symphony. The hooting of owls merged with the howls of wolves, and a strange harmonic clicking percussed along nicely throughout it all to create a song of longing, one that beckoned my soul to a home I never knew. As their song met its crescendo, so too did the luminosity of the moon. It grew and grew in brightness until it was almost as if dawn had come early. Yet, I refused to shield my eyes. I looked upon its glory without shame or hesitation until looking upon it became impossible.


    The light disappeared in a flash, leaving a sight never before seen to my eyes and a vista all too familiar to my mind.


    My eyes- still craned to my zenith- gazed upon a crescent bay filled with the deepest of blue waters. And within that bay, in a region almost twice as fat and long as my thumb, sat the assumedly infinite expanse of the Bodhi Tree.


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    How ridiculous it seemed, to think it to be such an endless expanse when I could look to the south and see a cloud-covered disk hiding the light of a curiously bright bulb. From that bulb- the sun- I could see the hazy cloud of rock gas spreading outwards until the surface itself turned to a band of red. And somewhere among that mass was a shining coin that represented the vastest city in the Mortal Plane. The Metallic Metropolis of Vagua.


    I could also see the Steam Line. Across the bay and far to the south across Polaris, it appeared as an almost impenetrable cloud wall. Yet, like the wall of white to the north, like Youtera on the far side of the sun, and Betrarth across the World Sea to the east, the moon was above it all.


    We were standing in an entirely new world, I realized upon removing my eyes from the Mortal Plane- an act I never thought possible. The skies were as black and bland as the realm in which we were born, yet the land was alien to us all. More desolate than any badland could ever be. Quieter than the Shadow Realm. Drier than both the Elemental Planes of Fire and Air combined. It was a land of building-sized stone outcroppings, chasms of perpetual darkness, and veins of opalescent or sometimes pale, blue-white metal atop a silver-dusted surface. An eerily spectacular, yet benevolently welcoming place. An expanse that felt as serene as it seemed deadly.


    Just like its creator.


    This was Mani. My new home.


    ¡°I increased the radius and altitude. So, it¡¯s the same size in the night sky.¡±


    While his words created a surge in the vast crowd, they sparked an epiphany to form in my mind. Even in this airless realm, we could breathe. And more, we could speak. Yet no one seemed to notice. Even Olga, who I realized stood beside me, surged towards Amun with the hunger for answers burning in her eyes. And Amun took it stoically by turning on his heels.


    Though his pace was slow, he somehow outpaced the mob- which now included me- on his way to a curious mound with a cliff face that hung over the land like a gaping maw. Because of the gathering of Captains before me, I couldn¡¯t quite see what or where he was leading us. I could only make note of the steady decline in our path and begin to panic once it turned near and eventually past ninety degrees.


    With my slowing pace, many goblins, deep gnomes, humans, and other creatures overtook me. Yet, when I stepped over the edge to view our destination, I quickly saw there was more than enough room for thrice our numbers.


    ¡°Oho!¡± I bellowed, wide-eyed in disbelief as I tapped the floating stone below my foot to ensure its security. ¡°Zeff has to see this!¡±


    There was nothing that the platform was attached to. Or so it seemed until I skirted the entryway to see the other¡­ citizens, entering through the same type of arcane portal seen at the Bodhi Tree. Only, nothing stood behind it, save a curb of stone and a thick branch holding it aloft above an endless sea of midnight-blue clouds. Both the platform and the black, glowing grains of the divine tree seemed to be the only objects of material for leagues. But out there in the distance, I saw land.


    Not a horizon, but shards or platforms or solid chunks of the Mortal Plane adorned with buildings and structures that shouldn¡¯t have been able to stand. Many of them towered higher than cathedrals or wider than sports arenas, yet stood on a post just wide enough to fit a door. Others were inverted entirely, with interior courtyards suspended above main roads and avenues.


    Vast though they were, the conglomeration of bodies served as the only landmasses within the realm. Or that section of it at least. The swirling sea of dark blue clouds extending into the infinite distance would serve as real estate for the worlds Amun advertised to the Captains, I was sure. Yet, the skies above us contained an entirely different prospect.


    Above the sleeping tempest was a skyscape that contained more stars than I ever thought possible to exist in one sky. They came in a full range of colors and sizes, from white bodies so bright they left streaks in my vision after looking away to tiny red dots nearly indistinguishable from the gaseous clouds they sat within. And at the center of it all, was the object of my affection.


    It appeared as it did from the surface of the Mortal Plane. The moon- Mani, dominated the zenith with its glory and splendor, bathing the floating land below in its gentle light in a way that was just¡­ ¡°Beautiful.¡±


    Mary said it before I could. Yet, it was but one variation of many outbursts from the crowd of thousands.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Amun bowed, though I couldn¡¯t see him from my position within the crowd. ¡°And welcome my divine realm, a region of deep space hosting many worlds, Eotrom.¡±


    ¡°Eotrom, huh?¡± I muttered to myself. ¡°Rolls of the tongue quite nicely.¡±


    ¡°The full name is Eotromenia.¡±


    ¡°Eotromenia.¡± I somewhat struggled to repeat.


    ¡°By living under my wing- in my Empire of Empires, you are now Eomen. And though this is not your birthplace, Eotrom is your home.¡± Amun continued, rising above the crowd. ¡°Eotrom and thus the Legio Noctis is, above all, a meritocracy. A society in which you are free to live your lives as you see fit. You can become a merchant, an inventor, join the Legions, or do nothing if you care not for social status, prowess, or wealth. You are free to do anything you wish. But take care to remember.¡± He raised his finger. ¡°Actions have consequences. You are free to rob and steal, for example, but so too are your victims free to seek retribution as they see fit. To that end, the only taboo is to unjustly take another¡¯s freedom. Do so, and I will come for you.


    ¡°You citizens may live anywhere in this world before you, Bithisarea, and may travel as you please between this realm and the realms of the Material Plane that we have explored.¡± He threw his arm out to the sea of clouds spread out before us and a veritable mob of the new citizens followed, uncaring of the words to come. ¡°Although it is without solid ground, this world, the first of many, is considered the mainland of my legion. Should you raise your social standing or become an Imperator- a Legion Commander- you will gain the right to weave a world of your own like mine. A planetary star, of sorts, orbited by the worlds of your subordinates.¡±


    Pausing, Amun reached his left hand to the moon above and torqued his wrist in a clockwise direction, and the moon followed by shifting slowly through the sky, at first, then faster and faster, transitioning through the phases as it fell towards the east until it was but a crescent shape lingering above the clouds. And it stayed. For seconds, and then on to nearly a minute, the moon hugged the eastern skies, brightening slowly from blue to white to gold until suddenly, it budged once again. And, as quickly as it set, the moon ascended across the sky, perpetually eclipsing the light of a radiant sun rising in tandem behind it.


    ¡°As you can see.¡± Amun lowered his hand and turned to face us. ¡°There is no day here. Only night. Only Moonlight and Twilight. That moon is the same as the one outside. Mani. My home. While frankly speaking, the vast majority of you are unwelcome there, the officers and the exalted will join me for a tour. Thank you for your time. And thank you for having faith in me. It will be rewarded.¡±


    With a bow, the citizens, the sea of clouds, and the sea of stars disappeared from my view entirely. As did the moon, I first thought, and then thought we¡¯d been transported to the exterior before I looked out to see a banded and ringed eye staring back at me.


    It was colossal. Veins of arcane lightning flashed into light and faded out of existence quietly within clouds of blues, greens, whites, and purples. It was¡­ Bithisarea, a world of a much more difficult pronunciation than that of Eotrom or Mani, but a world that was no less vast than either the realm, the moon, or the Mortal Plane when viewed from above.


    Aside from the land with strange buildings, there was another placed just above it, frosted and covered in ice unlike the plateau sitting behind the mainland- a small patch of dirt and water that I recognized instantly as the Cove; or what became of it.


    ¡°Honestly.¡± Amun sputtered out a sudden raspberry, pulling our eyes to drow-devil, flicking his eyes back and forth. ¡°It¡¯s too much to explain. Here. Or ask your Doppelgangers. Now follow me. We¡¯ll begin the tour.¡±


    A silver mirror appeared before my eyes just as he turned to float away, replacing the swaying grass around my feet with the dusty surface of Mani in an instant. I was left in place for a while, wondering what happened, but eventually, I followed the now-thinned herd down another vertically inclined road while perusing the surprisingly accessible grimoire-like map before me. Through it, I was able to track my position as we traversed the massive structure and bent my head around the fact that we were walking down a sheer wall to enter the various levels of the moon. More so, I read about the fascinating features of the realm as a whole.


    The ¡®sun,¡¯ for instance, was a layered ball of adamantine, mithral, and other metals heated past their melting point. It was explained to be done for the industry rather than for heat or light, however, and thus was always behind Mani when viewed from Bithisarea. Mani itself was layered like an onion, with eleven sub-realms that loomed above the nondescript core, accessed by the same vertical road on which we traveled. Though it was dozens of meters wide and kilometers longer, the road seemed as tiny as a vein in a leaf in comparison to the trees I gazed upon within the wondrous interior of the first level.


    The widening of the luminescent cave signaled our arrival, opening the space around us to reveal an expansive wall of water to our backs and a vibrant forest to our front, beset by a gleaming city of floating pale stones in the center. Like our home, it was called Eotrom and thus labeled as the realm''s capital city. Yet, it wasn¡¯t our destination. We continued to the second level. The Silverstream Forest. A dreamy, almost ethereal expanse of multi-colored plants spread below a ceiling of silver waters, filled with creatures that could have only been described as divine.


    One animal in particular was the reason behind our pit stop. Just before entering the next tunnel, we halted to step onto carriages led by beautiful elks with snow-white coats, velveted silver horns, and eyes of the most mysterious pale blue. Under a quickened pace, we raced through the Duskwoods on the third level, relegating me to focus to the best of my ability on my senses and view as much of the purple, amber, and blue flowers blooming within the perpetual dusk as possible. But alas, the most I retained were the strange, almost noxious mixes of spices congesting the air and the tiny motes of light that seemed to blink in and out of existence along the cavernous ceiling.


    The fourth level was our assumed destination. Like the first, it was a vast city of pale stones sandwiched between dissimilar expanses of rapidly changing biomes. Yet, we continued onward to observe the floating studies and formless universities on the fifth floor. And past that too, to view the recreation facilities, where parties would be held in the future for all the Legions, Amun was sure to tell us. But my eyes were focused on the expansive amphitheater featuring silver screens or illusions of the many encounters seen throughout the Captains¡¯ last six months of training. Of course, a huge outdoor bar could be seen in the distance as well. And beyond that sat a curious pink-lit alcove that beckoned many of the young men as much as the bar did the dwarves and Toril. The Pink Crater, Amun teased them, where the brothels were soon to be.


    Still, though, we continued to the seventh level to be met with the training room, Amun¡¯s monastery, and several hot springs, shrines, camping sites, and hiking trails stretching on for as far as the curved horizon allowed. The eighth room, however, was an undeveloped land bathed in twilight much like the surface above, and nondescript as to what it would become. But the ninth room was Amun¡¯s true domain. And after realizing we were to enter it, I found myself eager to see how he lived.


    It was much more ascetic than I ever expected, yet grandiose all the same. Like the floors above, expansive forests, tundras, swamps, and other environments stretched along the ambiguous surfaces that could both be called floors and ceilings, but with forges, workshops, labs, observatories, and everything besides a house or home on the squat platforms, conical rocks, or hollowed boulders floating between them.


    The only thing that could have even resembled a home was a comparatively tiny platform that housed a bench and a pillow, shaded from the moonlight and dusk by a squat, winding tree. Yet, Amun looked upon the place as if it were perfection before he turned his beaming eyes to us. ¡°Let¡¯s eat!¡±

 231 - A Bright Future

    Olga Godzuik.


    ***


    They¡¯d been talking and eating, for over an hour. Here, in this alabaster courtyard floating between dissimilar forests. I¡¯d been eating too. Though there had been few words to fall from my lips other than incredulous comments aimed at no one other than myself. For good reasons, though.


    First, we weren¡¯t the only creatures here. Massive orcas and dolphins with skin as rich as silver and eyes as deep as onyx swam peacefully throughout the space around us. Uncaring of how close their calves came to the colossal squids, octopuses, cuttlefish, or the tentacled shells drifting among them. Or even the wolves pouncing from platform to platform to playfully nip at their fins. Second, there was a lot Amun was asking of them, his Captains of the Legio Noctis.


    They were already tasked with devoting the next year to power-leveling their classes. And next year, they¡¯d go abroad to learn the inner workings of the guild they¡¯ve already created. On top of that, Amun wanted them to form not just parties, but companies numbering in the hundreds. He wanted them to create retirement and vacation worlds here, inside his realm, for them and their subordinates and citizens to dwell safely in. And more, he wanted them to raise guild towers that would float above the surface. The Woven Worlds of the Empire, he called them. All of that, Amun wanted them to do. And Mani knew what else.


    Still, though, they loved every bit of it. They looked forward to it with the zeal seen in all young adventures and then some. They listened intently to his words and openly made plans to bring them to fruition once they¡¯d been spoken. Then quickly shut their mouths to listen to the next set of orders intently. It was as admirable as it was terrifying, seeing the devotion Amun was able to instill in them in such a short time. Not just by appealing to their material wants and needs, though that had been done in excess, I could see it was much more than anything words could make sense of that drove these people into following him. And I could see that same devotion burning in Doyle¡¯s eyes.


    Not a hard feat, though, considering I sat right beside him. But even if I were sitting across the table or, dare I say, across the space, I would have noticed the steaming plate sitting before him, still filled to the brim with food.


    ¡°As promised.¡± Amun then said, pulling my eyes to him just as he released a school of wise rock pebbles to befall us, even Doyle and I. ¡°These are for the worlds you will weave above the Mortal Plane. Like Mani, they will be hollow and thus serve as the entrance to your divine world while your civilians dwell on the surface.And.¡± He waved again, releasing another school of darker, yet more radiant pebbles. ¡°These are for your headquarters.


    ¡°And that, finally, is the last of our business.¡± He sighed deflatedly in his seat. ¡°You are hereby free to stay in the realm for one month. However, only one week would have passed outside by then. After that, it¡¯s down to the surface with few, if any, trips back until next year. Eotrom will be for vacation only. We¡¯ve got a lot of work ahead of us.¡±


    ¡°A month!?¡± Elsgril spat with a thrust of his hand up the vertical bridge. ¡°How¡¯m I ¡®posed to scour the world out there for a fine orc chef ¡®n just a month?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll find a way.¡± Amun smiled.


    ¡°By praying,¡± Zakira added.


    ¡°Bah!¡± Elsgril thrust his arms upwards and returned to his mug, grumbling something or other under his breath.


    Finding my opportunity, I then leaned over the table and stared right into Amun¡¯s eerily dark eyes. ¡°And what of us?¡± I asked, gesturing to me and Doyle.


    ¡°Whatever you please.¡± He both shrugged and motioned at my hand with an ivory pipe he promptly began stuffing with burnbud. ¡°You, Olga, can take that pebble and create a world for yourself, or raise a tower on the fourth level. Though, it may be lonely in there for a while.¡±


    Looking around, I couldn¡¯t exactly see myself living inside the world, divine and grandiose though it was. So, with respect, I bowed in my seat. ¡°I- I think I¡¯ll create a... world. Thanks.¡±


    ¡°And thank you for all that you¡¯ve done.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to thank me for doing my job.¡± I playfully scoffed. And he only smirked wide.


    ¡°Likewise. Regardless!¡± he then stood from the table, pulling everyone¡¯s eyes from my embarrassment. ¡°I have a Menagerie to speak to and several undead to promote, so I¡¯ll see you on the sixth level. After that, Ed and I have several hundred thousand potions to brew. So¡­ see-¡±


    ¡°WAIT!¡±


    At once, everyone turned to face Ritrix, standing tall atop the table with an accusatory finger pointed at Amun. ¡°That can¡¯t be it!¡±


    ¡°I mean¡­ it kinda is.¡± Amun shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re going to celebrate soon.¡±


    ¡°But, shouldn¡¯t the people be here? Shouldn¡¯t there be like¡­ a dance or something?¡± She thrashed her arms about in frustration.


    ¡°Well, I wanted to give everyone time to get settled in. But I get your point. So¡­¡± he turned his gaze up to tap at his chin for a few seconds before lowering his eyes to her once more with a wide smile. ¡°How about this? I¡¯ve seen mentions of Sinestro¡¯s Quartet hosting a concert at the end of the month, at a famous tavern in Nevstan.¡±


    ¡°The Purple Leopard?¡± Doyle and I simultaneously guessed.


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    Ritrix spun on her heels to face us immediately. ¡°You¡¯ve been?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit of a right of passage for second-years. Leaving the Southern Peninsula without trying their roasted leopard and hot rum is a crime.¡± Doyle chuckled in nostalgia.


    ¡°And the dried snake served at the Purple Wyrm too!¡± I added.


    ¡°True.¡± Doyle nodded. ¡°But the nights in Rhar are pale in comparison to the Leopard. Or Nevstan as a whole.¡±


    ¡°And there you go.¡± Amun clapped. ¡°We¡¯ll meet in the city of Chor, Kurnak province of the Nevstan Principality for the concert. And after, we¡¯ll have a dance of our own. Here, with all the citizens. Agreed?¡±


    ¡°Works for me.¡± Ritrix plopped into her seat with a wide smile. But Amun was gone before she even turned.


    ¡°Well.¡± Toril rose from his seat with a long sigh. ¡°I¡¯m going to explore.¡±


    ¡°Me too.¡± Lucia stood a second after Toril took the form of a lightning bolt and streaked away, leaving clapping thunder and a woman encased in bronze wings following in his wake. Naturally, the others followed either in groups or as individuals; flying, falling, or riding in variations of the divine chariots we arrived in, leaving Doyle and I as the last ones standing in Amun¡¯s private realm.


    ¡°It¡¯s out into space to weave our worlds, I guess.¡± I finally rose from my seat with a dreary sigh. ¡°It¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve seen my tower.¡±


    ¡°Me too.¡± Doyle chortled softly. Then seemed to hold in the same words I was thinking.


    I wish Zeff were here.


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°I do not own you, I¡¯m aware. I consider myself a friend to you all and nothing more, even if I haven¡¯t treated you as such. You¡¯ve helped me considerably over the years, if even by your company alone. Yet, I¡¯ve kept you all cooped up within my shadow. And now, you¡¯ve remained in this realm without me for decades. For that.¡± I humbly bowed. ¡°I apologize.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Kit bobbed up and down from his perch atop my shoulder. ¡°The darkness was our home. Now, you have given us a new one. We are grateful.¡±


    ¡°The fox''ss wordss hold true.¡± Jake hissed. ¡°You made uss sspecial. Our young iss sspecial. Asss is their young. They grow ssstrong in this placce, thankss to you.¡±


    ¡°Some more special than others.¡± Chako, the Silverstream Orca matriarch, giggled as the younger calves in her clan swam daringly closer to the floating platform on which the dusk or lunar or, in one case, seasonal animals were gathered around me.


    The truth of her words was more inaccurate than she believed them to be, however, for all of the Menagerie were as special as her immense clan.


    And more.


    They were with me when I evolved. Moreover, they and every other creature within the realm spent upwards of six decades inside the moon before our entry. Building habitats, hunting, foraging, reproducing, and drinking the potent divinity around them, and thus many of them- my favorite creatures and the Menagerie- had mutated to reflect the divine energies of the realm and become immortalized in my Pantheon.


    Divine Trees notwithstanding, The only specific creatures in the Natural section of my profile were still Elven Devils, Shadow Dragons, and Devils- though my relationship with the latter was said to be tenuous. That essentially translated to them being exalted in the eyes of my pantheon and me being exalted in their eyes. But they did not become the ridiculously powered creatures the others did. Such as the Cervidae Family Tree. On the contrary, those things affected materials. Faerie Flax, water, or in many cases, Wise Rocks.


    The presence of one bladehorn stag in the Menagerie made true deer- elk, deer, moose, reindeer, and other similar creatures, part of the World Weavers domain. Since coming here, they¡¯d been roaming through the Silverstream Forest among the others, absorbing divine mana. Like the elks that carried us here, that influx of energy granted them powers that set them above the other creatures roaming the world. They could walk through the air as if it were solid ground, cast illusions, affect water and stone with their magic, cast illusions, and more.


    So too was the case with the Menagerie after bonding with either moonlight or twilight. More than their immortalization in my pantheons, however, the most intriguing reward of those creatures- and nature itself- being a part of my profile was that I could converse with animals without the use of Corvus'' ring. And, so long as I was either within my realm or speaking to one of the creatures in my profile, I could do so without divine mana.


    As great as their situation was, however, I didn¡¯t want to leave them trapped here any longer. For that reason, I gave them wise rock pebbles too. One to form worlds for themselves in the space outside and another to create a lair in the peninsula far below. A forward base for them to explore and grow as I intended to.


    ¡°I do not own you," I repeated. "I never have. Thus you are free to roam the worlds in this realm or explore the surface below. If you don¡¯t have to means to return here on your own.¡± I paused to scratch the two, not-quite-divine horse-sized wolves curled up beneath me, ¡°I will give you the means to do so in due time.¡±


    ¡°No need.¡± Skoll and Hati both growled. ¡°We are old. The whelps lead packs of their own now,¡± the former said, followed by the latter barking. ¡°They have changed. This is their home.¡±


    ¡°Ours is here, with you, where we will remain until we die.¡± Skoll proudly huffed.


    ¡°And in death, we will begin anew,¡± Hati concluded with a gentle nuzzle before Pora Bora fluttered down to a perch on my knee.


    ¡°I will remain with the other, darker, you,¡± she screeched. ¡°My child and her mate will accompany you.¡±


    ¡°I will go with whom I chose to fight beside.¡± Tao leaped off the edge after a solemn look back. Then one by one, the troops left to lead their lives as they saw fit. Thus ending the legacy of the Tenebrous Menagerie and marking the start of something new.


    ¡°And that leaves you a lot.¡± I turned just as Lana, Zaraxus, and their respective squads stepped from the shadows of a nearby platform, a tiny dais in comparison to the fields of undead standing tall at their backs.


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t weird at all.¡± Lana unceremoniously snorted.


    ¡°You¡¯ve never talked to animals?¡± I snickered. Then full-on laughed at her sheepish reaction to the question. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s time to reorganize you all.¡±


    ¡°Simion and Carbury will remain here, where they will take up new roles. The shadows partnering with the Captains will remain as they are. As will the 20 skeleton labor captains remain in my underworld to teach the new generations of undead. Their former assistants and the small gray dwarven companies beneath them will be distributed to the Legions as their foremen and labor force. That leaves roughly sixteen skeletons, forty zombies, fifteen hundred gray dwarves, and all the other types to spread across forty-six people.


    ¡°Lana, Zaraxus. You, your squads, and Rocky will remain with me as always. And I¡¯ll take thirty dwarves as my labor force.¡± I paused as Lana organized the troops on an inverted platform held in place above her and the Death Jarl, then paused again to chortle at the undead stone giant lumbering above them all.


    ¡°Thirty more will go to each of the Noctis Captains.¡± I continued. ¡°As well as at least one Derru, Durzgon, and Orig each. The remaining skeletons and zombies are to prioritize joining those in combative roles and divide yourselves evenly upon dismissal.¡±


    ¡°Here.¡± I threw Lana and Zaraxus pebbles as well. ¡°Lana, you hold on to that. Zaraxus, go down to the location I''ve marked to make your lair and await my summons. Make sure you make it as inviting as possible. We''ll be needing more troops. As for the rest of you.¡± I turned to the remaining members of Zaraxus¡¯ squad and the other, lesser undead. ¡°It¡¯s time for your promotions.¡±

 232 - Congregation

    Lady Nyella Lichenstone.


    Core Priestess of the Order of Worlds.


    ***


    ¡°Man, this is hard!¡±


    I looked at the Silverskin Lady, the young vampire cleric of Mani, incredulously- as I have so many times throughout the past few days.


    Vampires could be clerics. I never thought that possible. Nor did I think Mani¡¯s first chosen would be this¡­ eccentric. But in this particular instance, I could not blame her.


    ¡°But, Lady Zakira, these animals are Mani,¡± I assured her with a gesture across the Silverstream Forest. In particular, the fabulous creatures of onyx and silver-hued flesh or fur swimming lazily about our floating stone.


    ¡°Duh!¡± She rolled her eyes, playfully or not, I couldn''t tell. ¡°It¡¯s not the animals.¡±


    ¡°Prayer is hard then?¡± I looked at her again, fearing for the answer. As she¡¯d done every night, from the moon rising to the moon setting on Bithisarea''s horizon, the young cleric drafted, revised, and eventually perfected her prayers to Mani. And once twilight appeared on the horizon, she¡¯d go out and practice the bounties our God blessed her with.


    The power of Mani was that of unified light and darkness. The solid and fluid seas of the Woven Worlds; sand, air, water, magma, and more. It was dreams and illusions. Creation through the act of destruction. Gravity. Change. Freedom. Nature.


    This was the power of Mani¡¯s clerics. Like any cleric, Lady Zakira¡¯s spells, cantrips, and rituals came from her prayer and worship. This was the power of a priestess as well. But there was a long road ahead of us.


    And a longer one ahead of me.


    ¡°No!¡± She shook her head with a loud groan. ¡°Being a cleric is, like, super easy.¡±


    ¡°Then, dare I ask, what is it that is hard?¡±


    ¡°Being a Legionary.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± I recoiled at the sudden shift in conversation, though dawn was just around the corner, so I supposed it was appropriate. ¡°I know not much about the Legions,¡± I paused, attempting to recount the tales I regularly allowed to flow through my ears. ¡°You are¡­ militant explorers if I understand correctly?¡±


    ¡°Well, like, overall. Yeah. But I need, like, a job, you know? Like, Peter wants to build a monastery to protect nature and free slaves. And I need to form a party and create a city and¡­¡± she took a great sigh and turned her bulbous, pained eyes to me. ¡°It¡¯s a lot.¡±


    ¡°Well, My Lady, Mani guides you. You will find your way.¡±


    Though she didn¡¯t roll her eyes or even groan, it was clear that my words weren¡¯t what she needed to hear at the moment, devoted though she was. Or rather, it was something she fully knew. So I attempted to save the conversation with a belated step forward. ¡°If I may offer some advice, however, I would say that acting as a missionary would make the most sense for your¡­ job. And, mind you, there are many good folks down in Bithisarea who were more than willing to join up with your friends.


    ¡°And.¡± I took another step forward, remembering my free days in the Darkworld, days that now seemed like ancient history. ¡°Mani¡¯s church was quite popular before we came to the surface.¡± She spun her eyes back to me at once, now full of life and vigor. ¡°Not as popular as the Twilight Sanctuary, mind you. But popular nonetheless.¡±


    ¡°Oh, man! That reminds me!¡± She suddenly slapped both hands against her head. ¡°I need to see Opal! Let¡¯s go!¡±


    Though I could fly just as freely as her in this realm, she led me down the vertical bridge under her absurd vampiric strength to the realm I found myself hardly visiting. The Duskwoods, it was called. A forest, no different from that of the Silverstream. Other than it being shrouded in twilight. It was here that owls and snakes and rats and weasels and the gracefully ferocious beasts known as cats resided. It was an eerie world, with violet leaves and star-filled skies, brisk breezes carrying hints of spices, and a haunting chorus of calls, hoots, and hisses that rang through the world without pause.


    Being a God of Duality, it was here in the Duskwoods- with Twilight- where Amun¡¯s malevolent side was realized, represented no better by the cathedral of onyx and brass- or perhaps gold, floating below the twinkling skies. The Twilight Sanctuary. The house of worship for the Black Plume.


    Thank Mani we didn¡¯t have to enter, for Madames Opal and Syele drifted over to us shortly after our arrival. Eager to show our symbol, Lady Zakira pulled me halfway to them to show off the glorious stitchings spread across my silken-covered back. The symbol of our Order of Worlds was a semicircle- a half-broken world- with the ruptured half facing down towards an expanding cone of silvery stones and boulders. Contrary to the horned owl spreading its wings around a golden-rimmed orb of darkness, it seemed far more quaint and much less unnerving. But Madames Opal and Syele loved it nonetheless.


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    She seemed so regal, Madame Opal, that I found myself lost as she turned to compress the vast cathedral into an onyx ring that fit neatly around her finger. The polar opposite of Lady Zakira, she was. Elegant and refined, but no less wise than the eccentric vampire. And yet, far colder than the Lady could ever dream of being.


    ¡°Are you to make her into a vampire?¡±


    The casualness of her question and the gesture at my small frame sent a chill down my spine that I hadn¡¯t felt in decades. And following it, came a sense of relief I felt just one time in all my years of living.


    ¡°No!¡± Lady Zakira rushed to my defense with a sharp turn. ¡°Why do you keep asking me that, Opal?¡± She fumed, took a deep breath, and turned. ¡°Besides, it¡¯d be going against the tenant of freedom if I did.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± I proudly added, prompting Madame Opal to inquire about my name.


    ¡°Lady Nyella Lichenstone.¡± I bowed. ¡°What Madame Syele is to you, I am to Lady Zakira.¡±


    ¡°I never took you to be one of faith.¡± The former chortled dryly, then muttered. ¡°Though I¡¯m not one to talk.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I- I used to be a woman of faith. Long ago. But I... I have since lost it.¡± I meekly chortled. ¡°Gone shortly after I was forced into slavery. But, that is fine! For I have found the gloriousness of the World Weaver!¡±


    ¡°One side of the being we devote ourselves to.¡± Madame Opal bowed in turn. ¡°As such, we too abide by freedom, thus I am to free Elijah from his blood bond when this next period of change is upon us.¡± She glanced a smile at me before turning to her high priestess, or whatever she called her. ¡°And soon, Syele as well.¡±


    ¡°Y- you¡¯re to become a vampire?¡± I incredulously asked. But she eagerly, and proudly nodded.


    ¡°I advise you to as well, Nyella, for our God is a sovereign of death. We need to be the strongest if we are to carry on his will. There is no higher testament to our faith than to allow him to guide us through Death¡¯s Door.¡±


    ¡°But as our God so often says.¡± Madame Opal promptly added with a hard look to Lady Zakira. ¡°The decision is yours to make.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t deny that I thought about it intensely during our trip to Bithisarea, the main world, instantaneous thought it was. We waltzed to the highest floor of our God¡¯s home and stared up at the glass ceiling, imagining our destination, only to find ourselves looking across the cities floating in the sea of clouds a moment later. I thought about it still as we followed motes of light and glowing walkways to the central island rather than to the inverted docks and industrial yards floating just above it. Even when we came to the renovated church and sanctuary that existed in the Darkworld and saw the hundreds of faithful swirling around did I think about it. Never would I have thought I had the choice to become a vampire. A holy vampire like Madame Opal and Lady Zakira. Able to carry on God¡¯s will for centuries, perhaps millennia, without fear of growing frail and weary.


    I thought about it. Up until Lady Zakira leaped onto a table and shouted to the crowd. ¡°Hey! So, if you, like, really love Mani, follow me!¡±


    That was it. That was her speech to rile the crowd into following her down her path. Those were her revolutionary words to declare herself as God¡¯s chosen to the many faithful before us. And that, I couldn¡¯t take.


    I promptly pulled her aside and down to my level, away from the many prying eyes. ¡°This is serious, Lady Zakira!¡± I whispered as low as I could. ¡°You may be Mani¡¯s bride-to-be, but you are his representative still! It is you who explores the realms, performing miracles to those who have yet to see his glory!¡±


    I meant to go on, but Madame Opal stepped closer with a dangerous eye and more, The Lady visibly deflated, making me feel horrible about it all.


    ¡°I ask not that you be different,¡± I hurriedly said. ¡°Never would I! For that would be against the tenant of freedom. I ask only that you put yourself in another¡¯s shoes whenever you speak of our God and think of how they may perceive him. You are a Cleric, I a High Priestess. One of his first two, mind you.¡± I shifted my eyes between the two Madams. ¡°Our words hold divine power. We must learn to be impeccable with them.¡±


    Thankfully, my words served to toss aside whatever grievances they had and Madame Syele, in particular, stepped forward to pull me before the church while she moved to the sanctuary. And together, we declared our mission: To journey across the land and build our houses of worship. Like our God, we left nothing unsaid. We detailed precisely the goals of our denominations and more, made it clear that our clergies would be staffed by not only those deserving of the roles but those who were best suited for them. And only then did we tell them of the benefits. Of which, there were many differences. Many similarities.


    But only one blessing was truly shared between the faithful of Moonlight and Twilight.


    ¡°The afterlife!¡± Madame Syele shouted, and I nearly along with her, but then she continued. ¡°The Black Plume offers you- no matter how saintly or sinful you may be, a second chance at life! Either as a noble vampire, a Devil, or an Undying Shadow.¡±


    ¡°And-¡± I hurriedly stepped in, aiming to renege the offering of becoming an undead shadow from the Order, only to stop at the sight of a miracle. Or rather, a feeling. Both, in fact, as I first looked upon the golden and silver radiance of Madame Opal and Lady Zakira¡¯s bulbous eyes before the light of the divine bloomed inside Syele. And then me.


    Suddenly, I was where I stood before: on the exterior of this grandiose realm, staring up at the never-ending expanse of the Mortal Plane. And falling. I fell faster than was possible, down into the ring of greens and blues the surface dwellers called Paradise, to find a tiny sliver of land within a bay of colossal proportions. I fell further and learned the true vastness of the Bodhi Peninsula, however small it was from here, as I fell faster- sideways this time. Wide rivers of rushing white waters and thick expanses of thin-leafed trees reeled by like a scroll, making way for white-powdered grasslands that went on for leagues and leagues until the base of a great mountain loomed before me. And then I fell upward.


    Up the mountain and into the clouds I fell and eventually stopped at a peak that overlooked the sea of clouds, where I envisioned a great temple. A monastery, more than a church. An observatory, more than a cathedral. One where we could gaze upon the woven worlds with zero inhibitions.


    As I looked down from that monastery or observatory- or home- I saw the path I¡¯d traveled as a line of silver mist stretching to the horizon. And then, I saw Lady Zakira standing before me with tears in her crimson eyes, showing a silver streak in them that may or may not have been a play of the light. Regardless of what it was, I tossed the notion aside and stepped into her embrace, smiling with the least amount of smugness I could muster.


    ¡°As I said. Mani guides you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± She drew out the words, dreariness apparent in her breath as she gazed upon the wood crowds. ¡°We¡¯re gonna need a lot of carriages.¡±

 233 - Living Weapon, Weaponized

    Madame Syele, the Dusk Maiden.


    Remex of the Black Plume.


    ***


    ¡°Well, that was easier than expected.¡± I giggled.


    ¡°Indeed.¡± Opal nodded at the horde of devoted, standing in a mob before us. It didn¡¯t matter that they were mostly goblins and orcs. We all wanted the same thing. But most of us wanted more.


    Like the warrior goddess, Lana, I looked at Madame Opal, Lady Zakira, and Sir Elijah with both awe and envy. They were forever in a state of perfection. Nonfluctuating as a result of too much or too little food, sleep, or whatever other needs of the flesh that made us mortals suffer in life. Nay, they had no need for such things at all. They never hungered. Never tired. Never feared. They could devote every ounce of their energy toward their goals without rest, something that, after just over two decades of slavery, I yearned for.


    Many of the orcs and goblins and humans before us felt the same way. They saw Amun as a terrorist who just so happened to help them, rather than a savior. Or indeed, we all saw him as both but to varying degrees, for that was one of the core scriptures in the Black Plume. ''We are all heroes and villains to someone.''


    But he was different. Amun was the Elven Devil. A powerful one at that. And like all powerful devils, there would be many who would sell their souls for a taste of power. Far more than those who would worship him as the Weaver of Worlds. We who worshiped the Elven Devil- we of the Black Plume numbered in the thousands. Within a year, it was easy to imagine us with thousands more. And tens to hundreds of thousands more in the years and decades to come


    ¡°There¡¯s enough for my company as well. Or rather, my Legion.¡± Opal smirked, then closed her eyes to clutch her pendant to her chest before opening them again, revealing a soft golden glow encompassing her bulbous orbs. ¡°May the shadows of dusk obscure falsehoods. May the light of dawn reveal the truth. May the Owl''s eyes guide me.¡±


    The soft muttering of her prayer sent the powers imparted onto her by our God into her fingertips, which then turned about to dance across Opal¡¯s face, leaving tiny motes of twilight to sink into her brow and eyes. With direction pointed out from on high, she reached a pale finger towards the crowd to pick out several humans, a few orcs, and a goblin to name them as the officers of our organization.


    ¡°Adda.¡± She then turned to the first orc woman who stepped forward, with dull gray skin, flowing black hair, and menacing tusks to mutter the prayer of guidance and pass the wisdom along to her. "You are the Black Plume''s Calamus Commander, the military leader of the flock behind you. Find those who will hunt and cook for our journey. And later, those who will build or farm or do whatever else needs to be done once we arrive at our destination. Then send them to procure equipment and materials.¡±


    With an elegant bow, Adda turned to mimic Opal and her picking and choosing the best of the crowd until she turned back to us, eager to complete her next task. But Opal had already faced about and turned her gaze to the light-rimmed sphere of darkness above. To Amun¡¯s home.


    After a nauseating instant, we found ourselves within the multi-layered sphere. Within the core. A round and dark expanse of towering stalagmites and looming stalactites, deep ravines, dank caverns, and collapsed pillars or walls that strongly resembled the architecture of the Shadeforge stronghold.


    ¡°How do you feel?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t yet see where he stood- God. But I felt in my heart his words were aimed at me. The words rang against my soul like a gong. Soothing my mind and spirit enough to bring a wave of relaxation across my body.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never felt so¡­" alive. Powerful. Wise. Knowing. There were many changes I had yet to even acknowledge since we left the sanctuary. I knew little, if nothing, of the divine power granted to me. Other than that it was... ¡°amazing. Thank you.¡±


    He bowed at the neck in response, giving me a smaller sense of gratitude before a larger feeling came from him looking upon Opal¡¯s chosen with proud eyes. ¡°To the Black Plume¡¯s devoted," he said. "I introduce, Elijah.¡±


    Opal¡¯s thrall appeared as regal as always, dressed in a suit of crimson and black silks and leathers that belied his upbringing as a knight. He looked every bit the royal that Opal was as he silently bowed with the utmost grace. Yet another benefit to vampirism.


    ¡°Due to our classes and other things, I¡¯ve decided to move the Plume in a different direction,¡± Amun said as he stared absently at the center of the gloomy room. ¡°But, as always, the final decision will be yours to make.¡±


    While the others looked to us for support, Opal and I- having the utmost trust in our God- nodded for him to continue, already knowing we would agree with the changes no matter what they were.


    ¡°The Black Plume will remain as a cult that worships both Twilight and me as the Elven Devil. But the overall purpose of the cult would be to have them answer the Call of the Void- to damn souls. The reason is this.¡± He waved, and my senses lit up all at once, spawning memories that my mind and body never experienced.


    It didn¡¯t take long to realize I was looking at life through God¡¯s eyes. Numbers and dials and words littered his field of view from top to bottom, detailing the temperature, the directions he was facing, and other things. The room around him, a round hall of reclined chairs, shifted from the normal colors associated with light to a strange field of vibrant arcane colors before shifting back to the seemingly pale browns and blues of the hall. I felt waves cascading against my flesh that I knew, somehow, to be variations in mass or energy. I could¡­ feel how immensely distant those things were, and anything else I gazed upon. I could sense everything in what I perceived to be the entirety of the universe. But demanding the focus of my senses were glowing words that appeared just before me- or rather, before God. They told of him being a Rogue Devil. A Soul Mastermind who was branded and charged with bargaining with an ever-increasing number of souls and increasing the ranks of his devil kin.


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    Naturally, that mattered not to us. It only gave the faithful one more thing to devote ourselves to. However, I was surprised to see how fast Opal made amendments to what was already decided.


    I and many others learned about the sanctuary from Amun¡¯s dark twin months ago, though I was one of the few dozen humans to accept the teachings from the start. As such, the goblins and orcs never found a system they could agree on and the deep gnomes could never muster up the courage to impose their fantastic ideas on either of them. And then Opal came along. She appeared with the vast majority of the Plume''s inner workings laid out, making us devoted to following her simply by telling us of the vast underground sanctuaries we were to build and connect across vast distances through the use of shadow portals and high-speed rails. Everything from the slow and haunting music to the dreary or gothic art and architecture and any other rituals, sacrifices, or events had been organized by Opal and laid out to us shortly after our meeting.


    I, of course, felt it to be a perfect display of divine intervention and felt utter satisfaction by the fact that now, few things needed revising. Yet, as before, Opal came up with fantastic solutions for the things that did almost immediately. Solutions, so great, that I couldn¡¯t help but agree to them the moment they left her fanged mouth.


    ¡°We will undoubtedly be considered evil,¡± she said with an uncaring wave. ¡°Thus a military force will be necessary. I-¡±


    ¡°Put a pin in that for later,¡± Amun quickly said. ¡°And add on the need for inquisitors.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± Opal calmly bowed, completely unbothered by the interruption.


    She went on to name how the organization would be run in accordance with the new goal. Stepping into the void was still the final goal for us. Sacrificing oneself and being born anew as a vampire, a blessed shadow, or now, as a devil. Thus, unsurprisingly, our hierarchy would resemble that which the devils lived by, with Amun at the top followed by Opal, the first cleric, and me, in an equal but dissimilar position as the Remex of the Black Plume.


    Two of the humans chosen by Opal- Perry, and Rita- would be trained to recruit acolytes and show them the glory of Twilight. Grotto, a hulking orc, and Mika, a human, were in charge of ritual sacrifices. The human, Limy, and Grooshk the goblin were to take care of all other rituals. Leaving the last two humans, Art and Kele, to stand near Elijah. Then Amun went on to the next order of business.


    Dozens of pale blue and golden motes appeared throughout the space, opening portals that gave views of fiery lands, vast jungles, and snowy expanses. From them, out stepped the renowned Captains of the Legio Noctis. Eccentric though they were, coming from many species, realms, and backgrounds, they were as regal and powerful as the God they followed.


    We of the Darkworld heard tales of them all and saw in the many taverns within this realm their numerous encounters and hardships in the land below. Like Nyella, those tales, and illusory moving pictures- and the visions from God- led me to seek Opal out. But they- the other Captains of the Noctis, were not a part of our clergy, though they had still been blessed by Moonlight, Twilight, Engineering Essence, and the Eternal''s Mana. That knowledge made the apprehension on their visages apparent. For they knew, like I, that God was letting our anxiety rise until he revealed something that had the potential to flip the Mortal Plane upside down.


    ¡°This looks like a dragon¡¯s lair.¡± Zarzok, the regal strifling who fueled himself on pride, chortled dryly.


    Amun only smiled knowingly before chortling back. ¡°Ever perceptive are you, Zarzok.¡±


    ¡°So... you didn¡¯t banish it?¡± Scarlett Bombyx, the innocent-looking druid of silk and moths asked with pain hidden in her voice.


    ¡°That was a partial truth,¡± Amun softly reassured her. ¡°The truth is. The venerable red Wrymling, Cononthoth, agreed to a deal. We struck a bargain.¡±


    A roar of incredulous gasps came from the Captains and those of the Plume behind me. But Opal and I silently offered a prayer to our God to exclaim our humility in the face of such a revelation.


    ¡°The deal was that first, I would invest in her hoard in exchange for historical or arcane knowledge. Second,¡± Amun raised two fingers, ¡°that I would accelerate her growth whenever she decides to travel with me until she is at the ancient stage, wherein she will remain in perpetuity. And third.¡± Amun grinned evilly. ¡°That I would give her the power of darkness and grant her dominion over the Darkworld. As such, with her agreement, our souls are linked; and with my ascension, she is now divine.


    ¡°Oh, yeah. And she can try and eat me whenever she wants. But she is strictly forbidden from touching any of you.¡± Amun declared with a careless wave, and then those behind Opal and I erupted in zealous praise. ¡°Though her transformation is complete, she is currently exploring the Shadow Realm, honing the changes brought to her body. This.¡± Amun swept his arm across the room. ¡°Is the core of her lair. A hub meant to link the domains she¡¯s to create across the Mortal Plane.


    ¡°She is now the Venerable Shadowfire Dragon, Cononthoth, the Exalted Gloom!¡± Amun declared with a dramatic wave and a wicked grin. Then gestured to the vampire standing off to his side. ¡°She and her followers will be a denomination of The Black Plume. And you, Elijah.¡± Amun appeared by his side in an instant, his comparatively small hand grasped tightly around the vampire¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You, are her first knight.¡± He shook him gently; or, tried to, winding up shaking himself more. ¡°You will be one of the few without complete wickedness to stand under the Exalted Gloom''s wing, as her envoy to the surface. And simultaneously.¡± He turned to Opal and me. ¡°You will be the Plume¡¯s link to the surface.¡±


    After giving Elijah a final shake, Amun suddenly turned on the Captains. ¡°I summoned you here to declare this. Anyone who wishes to meet the Exalted Gloom is openly invited. I¡¯ll send word when the time comes. But I warn you.¡± He turned his cold eyes over the crowd. ¡°I do not control her. Per our deal, she is unable to attack my subordinates. But that rule does not apply to me. I don''t need her terrorizing the peninsula because she got slighted. So, please, be on your best behavior in her presence.¡±


    ¡°I knew you did something crazy. But to make a shadow dragon.¡± Roheisa, the barbarian princess capable of ruling the underground- the stretch of magma and rock between the surface and the Darkworld, shook her head in disbelief. ¡°The Necro King will be furious.¡±


    ¡°What he doesn¡¯t know won¡¯t hurt me.¡± Amun carelessly shrugged, and I couldn¡¯t help but laugh at the thought of anyone hurting my God. No matter how legendary they were.


    ¡°Anyway.¡± Amun waved dismissively, conjuring another field of motes and globules of light in the same motion. Far bigger ones than before. Ones that released massive constructs of wood and steel to float before us in unbridled glory. ¡°Here are your vehicles. Expect bigger and better ones later.¡±

 234 - Manis Eye

    Amun.


    ***


    I dodged a bullet, I¡¯ve come to learn.


    Or perhaps not, remembering Telin¡¯s assurances that this universe was tailored to my liking. Guaranteed to be a realm I¡¯d never want to leave. He was right. That said, divinity was my birthright. And now that I obtained it, there were a few things I learned about the realms in which we dwelled. Most notably the fact that it was highly frowned upon for deities to leave their divine realms. The mere presence of even a demigod could change reality on the Mortal Plane in real time. Most deities didn¡¯t see that as a good thing. Thankfully, however, exploration was part of my portfolio. As such, I could travel the Mortal Plane freely. So too, however, was change a part of my portfolio, thus my influence on the Mortal Plane would be greatly exacerbated.


    Especially after the next couple of steps.


    That aside, I could safely reason why the Gods never left their realms. Assuming they even could. As I could use the moon, Mani, to look down on the surrounding areas of the Bodhi Peninsula and in Maru with shocking detail, so too could I gaze upon the free space within the moon, now filled with many ¡®planetary stars¡¯ and worlds drifting precariously close to the astral sea creatures living around them.


    While much time was spent weaving and creating new worlds by those who called Eotrom home, more time was spent exploring the ones in existence already.


    From the surface of my home, the other worlds appeared as a distant set of marbles, arranged in the form of a three-dimensional, six-pointed star. Bithisarea, sitting directly ahead, was the mainland without solid land. A gas giant with rings composed of liquid water. As a result, it became a hotspot for everyone to fly around in, either under the convoluted laws of gravity or via the relatively low-tech but well-made aircraft being made in the world far above. It was a place of artisanal craft and commerce, above all else. Fueled by the stream of raw materials and goods from the world above mine.


    Ilium was still placed behind my world from Bithisarea¡¯s perspective. Or to put it another way, in the Mani-Bithisarea system, Ilium sat in the 3rd Lagrange Point. Naturally, it became the industrial center for the realm, birthing a plethora of exotic magical materials that would take our technology to divine heights. Due to that and its design, an orbital ring was constructed around it and made to feel like Odissi and Deapou: an unforgiving tundra encircling a hot core of layered molten metals acting as a heat source to drive the relocated forges of the Shadeforge and the glorious factories I made below the tower.


    Here- the ring- was where measured portions of the perpetually molten metals that composed the ''sun'' were delivered to be tampered with endlessly for the sake of creating the most pristine equipment for the Legions and other no less-quality items for those below. Larger portions from the sun were, of course, sold at horrendously low prices for the many smiths and metalworkers in the kingdom below. But even more was sent to the Artificers, for it was also to Ilium that the artificers went to form their worlds. Or rather, around Ilium.


    Many of them were chiseled strongholds. Pillars of carved stone, illuminated with flaring braziers and burning hearths. But one, in particular, was familiar to my old eyes. It was slim and curved truss much like the ring around Ilium, yet it was broken apart by platforms with vast domes on each side that were vast enough to contain Ed¡¯s chemical plants, dockyards, factories, and other such structures, all connected to the central hub via massive conduits like the spokes on a wheel.


    It, however, was empty for now, as its owner was with me, toiling away in my alchemical lab. Thus the main attraction around the world of Ilium was the gang of dwarves, orcs, and goblins shuffling about a deep pit of burning embers and billowing smoke. Roasted legs and smoked ribs or barrels of mead and ale were shuffled all about, seemingly to the benefit of one stern-faced dwarven man.


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    Sitting atop the greatest seat in his outdoor court was Elsgril Silverforge among his dwarven kin. Forgruna, Darekhil, Thordrohilda, and the dwarves from the compound who stayed remained silent for once as they ate and drank. Intently, they studied and debated about who was the best butcher, brew, and grill master among the crowd. Despite his bickering, it was the last of many such events held not only by the dwarven artificers but by the Captains across all the worlds. They, in particular, were voracious in acquiring the best and brightest citizens to trudge down the rugged path toward technologically militant superiority.


    [Step 2: The Holy and Unholy Word - Task Complete.]


    [Evolution: Piety Nave - The nave transforms your divine mana into an energy that will increase your physical and mental abilities while performing actions related to your portfolio.]


    To the right of Bithisarea when looking from above was a world of perpetual song and dance. A world where Ritrix and the other bards hosted festivities throughout the endless twilight. A place where, like many other worlds, whispers, and praises lingered, trailing through the void between worlds to befall my evolved ears.


    [Evolution: Orison Vestibule - This otic implant of the divine is a receiver for prayer, enabling you to answer or ignore the pleas of your followers to greater effect.]


    Louder than their prayers, though, was the world on the opposing side of the recreational world. A flat-topped shard or chunk of stone surrounded by air. A domain of knowledge and engineering, with primary schools, universities, and trade schools trapped in a temporally dilated dome. A place where countless prayers were whispered to the Divine Engineer. And in return, they received divine inspiration or spiritual aid. Motes of twilight or tiny moons assisted their weary eyes in reading just one more line of text. Words of assurance were whispered in their ears, giving them the perspective needed to understand a difficult concept or equation. Or, in some cases, some received guidance on who to seek out for the sake of their goals.


    [Active Skill: Metaphysical Form - Through creating a divine facsimile of your essence out of matter and energy, you can perform miracles, inspire, or otherwise interact with your followers without revealing yourself or even being present.]


    Sitting on the far side of my home was the second-to-last major world of my ¡®star¡¯ system. Carbury¡¯s Grove and the larger variations of the Silverstream forest and Duskwoods. It was there that the majority of the materials unique to the domains outside of Engineering were birthed. Hides or leathers and feathers or scales acquired from scavenging the remnants of nature¡¯s cycle, rather than hunting; and an arrangement of ores, stones, liquids, and other divine materials born from this realm.


    Last but not least was the Transfer Station. A small platform that served as the entrance to the realm, overlooking a core that would one day become the last of the main worlds. The Headquarters for the Legio Noctis.


    Still, though, there were countless other worlds. As many as there were Captains of the Nox, ranging from formless labyrinths or clusters of floating stone to immense globules of water with but a single patch of land. Some, like the two lunar and two dusk worlds orbiting my home, were hollowed and barren rocks, yet they poured sermons and prayers into the astral sea without pause. Others were more¡­ quaint. Festering lands of magma and ash orbited near the sun. Worlds of dust and sand sat before that, overlooked by jungles, forests, grasslands, or floating oceans with frozen shards, chunks, and pillars of ice and snow looming behind them.


    I could see it all from here in my timeless alchemical lab. I could watch it intently. That and I could do a hundred other things while I used a fraction of my stores of unicorn blood to brew and brew and brew. I could guide them. Not only down their paths. But towards finding those best suited to journey beside them. I could hear everything- their wants and needs. So, like any benevolent god, I placed them at the height of my priorities as I listened. And brewed and brewed and brewed.


    [The Eternal Path: Step 3 - Mission.]


    [With your realm formed and your pantheons created, you must send your faithful out into the mortal realms to build your first houses of worship and fill the hierarchies of your clergy across all denominations. Then, their first group of acolytes must be recruited or converted and indoctrinated fully into the clergy.]

 235 - Ingenium

    Orbiting near the poles of Ilium was a small moon of metal and volatile materials. It was a barren world, save the many undead gray dwarves operating the excavators below the surface and the anti-gravity ferries sitting atop it. It was around that world that the artificers chose to call home, creating worlds of stone and metal before they dove down to that industrial ring to explore the depths of their crafts. It was within that ring where my chief engineer and I relocated after brewing a hundred thousand superior healing potions and receiving the paltry rewards that came with the title of Grandmaster Alchemist.


    Well, one perk was paltry. Relatively so.


    The Alchemist''s Eye was much like the Appraisal skill. With focus, I could ascertain the ingredients that went into making the potion as well as the quality and the effects it yielded. I supposed it would have been useful if someone tried to cheat me out of a brew. The Alchemists Cookbook, however, was a different story. Of course, it was like my apps and the Artificer¡¯s Cookbook, but for potions, and that made it invaluable. I had learned to make a quite respectable number of brews from the book Zoop gave me, and it would only get thicker in time. The Artificer¡¯s Cookbook, on the other hand, contained everything I¡¯ve ever created. Which, after living through three technological eras and spending nearly a century and a half learning and making all manner of things in my past life, was a lot, but nothing new. Not to mention, I had the Starfarer¡¯s Archives as well. The digital library shared by all in the Solar System and beyond contained knowledge of how to do everything from making stone tools, making clothes out of pelts, and setting up mud huts to creating cybernetic implants, building megastructures, and terraforming worlds.


    Like many on the outside, the Archives had been downloaded into the servers and databases embedded in my neural interface and streamed through my sensory implants in more or less the same way as the Eternal Eye. The same couldn¡¯t be said for alchemy and potions, however, so the Artificer¡¯s Cookbook was relatively worthless. But only to me. It would be Ed, Forgruna, Els, and Matthew who would benefit most from it. With their Cookbooks and the powers embedded in this realm, they too had a sense of augmented reality. And with one of my domains being engineering, they too had access to those vast Archives. And much, much more.


    Capitalizing on that knowledge, I created a sub-world of my own. A place like my home- formed with a high concentration of divine mana, but attuned almost exclusively with my engineering domain. Thus it was a cube rather than a sphere. A cube filled with spatially and temporally distorted boxes or modules in which anyone could design and create whatever came to mind.


    Capitalizing on the powers granted by my divinity, the artificers and the undead craftsmen took their blessings of tireless inspiration and worked without pause throughout the month, surveying the many components and materials born from my divine realm and using them to create things that utterly blew me away.


    As far as they were concerned, the most notable of them were the materials that absorbed the divine essence of moonlight or twilight, including adamantine and mithral. Though their names had yet to be agreed upon, the woods, metals, liquids, and stones more or less held the same properties on both ends. Albeit with varying intensities. Depending on how they were refined, Twilight materials could be crafted into items with illusory or charming attributes, if not umbral or radiant, or even life paired with necrotic effects. Either way, it had the potential to both heal and corrupt, as well as utilize light and darkness. Conversely, only materials imbued with Moonlight had a connection to the ¡®Worldly Seas,¡¯ creating not only materials that were nearly frictionless in water and able to withstand the tremendous pressures of the ocean deep, it created materials that could swim freely through the sands, magma, and of course, the air.


    As far as I was concerned, however, the most remarkable materials were imbued with neither of my lights. They were the materials born from the Engineering domain. Exotic materials that would make any engineer froth at the mouth at the chance to get their hands on them. Magic-infusing nanites; 4-dimensional metals; temperature-independent superconductors; metals that acted as batteries, capable of absorbing many types of energy and transforming them into electrical potential energy. Super fuel. Hyper-magnets. Even a new type of wise rock. At the pinnacle of all of these materials was a trio of yet-to-be-named crystals. One was amethyst that became strongly attuned to gravitational energy; one was a computing diamond; and the other was a quasi-RTG in the form of topaz. An immensely powerful one at that.


    With the latter, my clone, the undead, and the citizens were able to leap past the jet and atomic ages and even push past the realm of information. Enabling us to build and test an array of complex vehicles for the Captains'' subordinates. Although, most of the designs would be hard to use without the proper training. And harder to use still without the proper infrastructure. And even then, they would be improved upon with enchantments at a later time. Regardless, however, the array of new materials afforded to us meant that in some cases, there was no need for enchantments. And with my studies of the art on the horizon, I found the perfect excuse to create as many prototypes as possible in the meantime.


    [Grandmaster Artificer, Step 7: Grandmaster Alchemist - Task Complete.]


    [To continue the path towards becoming a Grandmaster Artificer, you must learn the Basics of Enchanting by mastering the use of the Mana Scalpel and Mana Chisel, then learn enough of the art to carve your first ten Sigils.]


    It was a long road with a lot to learn along the way, and few things excited me more than such prospects. Coincidentally or not, one of those things was the very act I delved into after I bottled my last potion. Designing and creating technologies of fantastical proportions. Technologies that had no hope of existing on the outside.


    ¡°So, everyone has their vehicles?¡± I asked my fellow artificers.


    ¡°Damn right!¡± Els ran a polishing rag across his pony-sized chopper for the umpteenth time- a beast of metal that ran on alcohol and would keep running so long as it was maintained. For a dwarf, there wasn¡¯t a greater treasure in the world.


    ¡°Though some of the ungrateful bastards didn¡¯t want them,¡± Matthew grumbled under his breath, eyeing the many barbarians multiple worlds away.


    ¡°They will when they have to ferry hundreds of people across the continent.¡± Ed laughed, exchanging knowing glances with me before he gestured around us. ¡°What¡¯s all this then?¡±


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    As was customary in the space around Ilium, bolts, screws, or bubbles of lubricants and curved panels remained suspended in space around a trio of magical crystals. Aligned precisely with a holographic blueprint, each component was painstakingly inspected by the undead gray dwarf craftsmen while their ebon lips twitched in ritualistic prayer.


    ¡°It¡¯s Zakira¡¯s new bike,¡± I finally said with a chuckle upon remembering her immediate love for beach cruisers. As of a few days ago, that love moved on to one for motorcycles- bikes she somehow wasn¡¯t surprised to see and knew to ride innately. Her world was filled with racetracks and open roads at once. And now, she was praying- yearning for the opportunity to ride across the lands below. And so, to answer her prayers, I sent the array of components into motion.


    Though still, she would have to earn it.


    Their fascination never fading, Ed and the others watched intently as the silvery-blue plates and black pipes and white conduits fell into place, followed by an army of screws and washers and bolts, spinning into their homes to tighten it all down. Even with my backs to them, even with the Piety Nave turning my actions into a dizzying blur of motion, even with the undead chanting prayers into the room, I could see their eyes darting this way and that as they tried to form the final product in their minds.


    Els and the other dwarves noticed it first. The two purple crystals attached to either side of the yellow-orange crystal at the center of the squat chassis, keeping it floating upright as the pieces kept falling into place to hide the crystals behind elongated fenders of silvery-blue metal. ¡°It¡¯s to fly!¡± Came his exclamation just as the vehicle hummed to life and poured a purple ambiance around the wheels. But the pieces kept falling, making handlebars and foot pedals and storage compartments while I moved from front to end with paints and decals at the ready.


    ¡°It shall be called, the Moon Runner!¡± I declared as they marveled over the first anti-gravity bike in creation. But it was just one of many marvels being created at that very moment. One of many marvels that wouldn¡¯t make it to their respective owners for quite some time. For the most part at least.


    In workshops like this, to our front and rear, to either side, both above and below, and dozens more beyond them, more lattices of components, lubricants, coolants, and magical materials were cascading into each other under the divine guidance granted to me by the Piety Nave. Using it, I could see something similar to Zakira¡¯s bike being brought into creation in the module above us. A long and squat, purple-glowing carriage of divine wood and the unnamed bluish-silver metal that came from mithral infused with moonlight. In another, the various components were cascading into a 392-meter-long, nuclear crystal-powered submersible battleship called the Moonsliver. A monstrous beast compared to the 41-meter-long, hydrogen-powered fast attack ship, soon to be received by my investigator and taken away shortly thereafter. And in yet another module, hellfire-infused mithral plates were being formed into a pair of winged suits of armor that weren''t of my design- although various other types of armor were.- and many expedition trucks or vans, long-range planes, subsurface trains, and other fantastical vehicles formed still in others.


    But one module in particular contained no screws, bolts, or washers; or few pieces of metal, for that matter. Only four: a pointed cap of death-infused mithral; a strange, twilight-infused mithral plate, engraved into the likeness of a certain raptor; and a pair of twilight-infused, taloned leg prosthetics. The only other material floating in the space was a hand-sized piece of unicorn bone, carved and stuffed with more marrow than necessary before being infused with Twilight. Two fat globules, one of dusky feathers and another of nightly quills, orbited the drow-made tunic and cloak gifted to me by Abbot Eiriol sat off in another ambiguous corner of the module; and a beam of divine wood from Zorrenor¡¯s tree orbited around another beam cut from mine sat in another corner.


    More so, the entire module was bathed in twilight, creating an almost infinite expanse inside what was already a vast workstation. And at the center of that realm, floated a dark-skinned shadow of a man with pointed ears and long, flowing locks. His clothes were shed, revealing a blacker-than-black mark sprawling across his chest- the light of twilight looming behind a great tree. There was a solemn look on his face, for he knew that today would be his last day living as he always had.


    He knew that he was no longer just Numa, my Doppelganger. He was to become Numa, the darker, often more malevolent twin of Amun. Made of shadowstuff and spirit still, but born anew as a result of the divine flowing within him. He wasn¡¯t alive, per se. Rather, undying. The other side of the coin that was Amun- me. Like me, he was the God of Mana, Engineering, and most of all, Twilight. But not Moonlight.


    Only the one of true flesh and blood- only I held the power of all four domains. But that mattered not for the Doppelganger-no-more. He was an engineer and an artificer still, the God of Mana still, and thus he could see the same sigils glowing before his eyes as I. He could trace them out with mana-bolstered fingers just as easily as I and could mutter the arcane words just as fluently. He used whatever amalgamation of Mana and Divine Wells he possessed to bring out the powers of the Material Purification Skill and watch the magic unfold alongside me. The result was no less potent than mine.


    Still, it was curious. Using the skill required molding a field of mana over the material. Yet it used our mana to purify it. Using everything in my Arcane Well of the Eighteenth Grade, I could purify up to eighteen tons of material, compared to the two tons Ed¡¯s Eighth Grade Ice Well afforded him. But my Doppelganger-no-more could refine just as many grams as I could. The bone and marrow had been purified the day before and promptly infused with divine twilight. And the mithral the day before that, just before it was infused with the appropriate energies and formed into a pointed tip. The twilight-adamantine and feathers and quills were plucked before that, even. Leaving the wood as the only target. An impossibility without my divinity.


    Like a sunbeam through a magnifying glass, the surrounding energies of the realm- both magical and divine- cascaded into the grains and burst out the other side in the form of a dusty mist comprised entirely of impurities. Enshrouding the two meter-long beams in a veil that forced the various knots to unfurl, voids to fill, and the grains to straighten into the most beautiful patterns wood could ever create. And then came the blur. For the Piety Nave worked on him too, here, in the divine realm of Eotrom.


    Using the same power, I saw the drow-made cloak and the globules of dark fluff turn into a feathered robe that contained the power to make use of both sides of my heritage. The beams, on the other hand, were gnarled together to form a doctor¡¯s cane tipped with the mithral point and handled with the carved unicorn bone.


    It was then that I appeared in the Metaphysical. As a visage of my true self with all of my powers to boot, despite my incorporeal form. But after a quick pulse of purple energy, I was gone. Meanwhile, the Doppelganger-no-more was busy slipping on his robe, allowing the innate powers of the dusky feathers and nightly plumes to turn his body into amorphous darkness. His form shrank to the size of a halfling as his arms pulled through the sleeves, forming wings with barbed fingers that stretched out wide with pleasure.


    With those fingered wings, he brought himself up to full size by slipping his mechanical taloned legs over those stubby nubs of darkness. Then donned his metal mask of dark shades and gilded highlights, and thus turned his starry eyes to see his gravity and death and twilight-infused cane floating before him expectantly. Tentatively, he reached for it. Muttering words that would one day be written and retold in the Sanctuary for eons to come.


    ¡°The Light of Dawn brings a sense of peace to the lands seen as dreary in the Shade of Dusk.¡± Taking his cane, he thrust it down mightily, releasing a wave of horrid screams across the otherwise empty workshop. ¡°Neither shall stymie the Gloom that stalks the horizon, for the Owl flies through both Dusk and Dawn.


    "Long may his feathers rain.¡±

 236 - Lunacy

    Hogaz, Seeker of Mani.


    ***


    I had trouble sleeping.


    Ever since I made my pact- ever since I sold my soul with The Man Inside The Moon, I found sleeping to be the most arduous task. But on the last night of my first leave of absence inside the moon, I slept like a log, and when I awoke, I felt a biting cold against my skin, heard the gentle lapping of waves and the perpetual rush of water around me, smelled the salt in the air and the many flowers sprawled across the ground. And¡­ I saw the half-lidded eye of Mani floating high in the sky, staring down at me expectantly through a web of boreal leaves and frost-crusted branches.


    ¡°Where?¡± I shot up at once, hoping to see the worlds of the other Captain¡¯s trailing through the distant skies. Instead, I saw a well-dressed half-orc with deep blue-green skin and silver strands in his inky hair, peering over the ledge of the clearing I apparently bedded down in.


    ¡°As we¡¯ve been told,¡± he- my Doppelganger, said, pausing to turn his gaze up toward the deep blue skies. ¡°One week has passed since we took our leave. Two remains until the rendezvous.¡±


    ¡°Two tendays to travel through nearly sixteen hundred klicks of inland waterways and blue waters.¡± Neil, the shadow undead hydro-mage and thief, stepped out of my shadow to say. Then trailed over to my clone¡¯s side to peer over the edge as well. ¡°In that.¡±


    Silent, smiling, they waited until I stepped between them and looked down upon the sinkhole of floating stones and the deep lake at its basin.


    The stones, shrouded in a perpetual mist rather than floating in midair, acted as anchor points for the many trees, glistening flowers, and other plants poking their leaves through the uncountable volumes of water and ice pouring from an unknown, omnidirectional source above. As it cascaded down into the basin, the water turned from a roaring rush to a soft ripple that meandered its way toward the silvery eye at the center of the vast mountain lake.


    This was the wondrous Eshthesian Waterfall, I somehow knew. The object of Neil and my clone¡¯s interest, however, was the glint of silver far below.


    Like a distant lantern in a foggy night, it loomed through the mist, compelling me to jump from the edge while simultaneously reaching into my pack for my trusted feather.


    The mana imparted onto me reacted instantly, flowing into the feather and back out in the form of a pulse that grasped onto the surrounding mana, pulling it into my spirit in an instant to make my flesh as light as the object in my grasp. And gently, I floated down and down into the lake, watching the mist part ever more below me and reform above my head until I was utterly alone.


    Trapped in this void of icy mist, I could only feel the energy of my patron looking down on me from above and simultaneously focusing on the glowing object far below. It glowed with the same silvery-blue hue as Mani, the moon. Making me yearn more and more for it to come into sight with each passing second. Yet, it seemed to not grow any closer. Or rather, it wasn¡¯t until I got close enough, that the illusion faded to reveal a silvery-blue teardrop floating on its side in the water.


    With that revelation came a mind-searing burst of knowledge, memories, smells, sounds, and sights concerning the creation of this ship. But not how to use it. The Moondrop was a hydrogen-powered luxury fast attack craft, built to be an astounding 41 meters in length with a beam of 14 at the stern. Two decks sat above the main and another level was found below. In order, being a small deck with an outdoor helm and saloon, followed by my quarters and the bridge.


    The mostly enclosed main deck contained plush sofas and silver screens, an open kitchen, and a crystal dining table sitting below a moon-shaped chandelier; though, the deck was open to the bow and stern to permit space for a three-pronged moonbeam cannon at the bow, and storage space for a powered tender at the stern. But the lower deck was where the fascinations were. There were luxurious quarters for the crew I had yet to recruit of course. But so too did it house the technology that kept the ship running smoothly.


    Some devices could purify river water or turn salt water into fresh water, and then that water could be split into oxygen and hydrogen, giving us the means to fill metal tanks with air with the former and power the ship with the latter. Strange spinning things on the sail-less mast could pass along or retrieve information and entertainment from Eotrom. Or, they could render the surrounding environment in vivid detail. There was a... system, that would control everything on the ship from the comfort of my cabin. Everything from lights to the speed and heading- and even the cannon. But beyond even that were the materials comprising the Moondrop. Metals and woods imbued with the power of moonlight, the same sorcery that I now possessed; albeit to a limited extent.


    The Moondrop, however, possessed the full breadth of the eldritch Lunacy. It could shroud itself in illusions or turn nearby rain into a cloud of mist. It could glide seamlessly through the water and even call to nearby animals. And with a hyrdomage at the helm, our potential path lay in all directions. Even the cascading outlet of the waterfall basin proved to be a paltry challenge. We were down and out within seconds of raising anchor and sailed smoothly under the canopy of a sprawling temperate forest bathed in snow, looking occasionally to the towering mountain at our backs from the choppy reflections of this broad river.


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    The frigid winds yielded a fear of the river icing over among the locals, I assumed. Regardless, we made good time, sailing unseen past a human settlement of ten thousand within the hour and continued at half speed throughout the night.


    With Neil at the helm and the small undead dwarven creature navigating, I spent hours learning about the land I woke up in. And more importantly, toying with the ship. I listened intently to my clone while I practiced using and maintaining the almost endless array of equipment, learning in the process that I was close to the northern edge of the Vrurian Empire, heading west, down the Lirwin River, towards the coast.


    While being the largest and most peaceful empire in the south- allied or friendly or more with everyone but Nevstan, they were the only nation in the peninsula to not host a sub-guild of the Bodhi Tree. Making it the unsaid haven for Clerics and Warlocks to step further down their paths. Being a high-elven nation of largely populated settlements widely separated by dark forests, there was more than enough real estate for foul beasts and strange, exotic, or even divine creatures to dwell in excess. And even more real estate in which the gifted could release their power safely. But I was here on specific business. Business that took me another fourteen hours down the river, to a small cove just past a town of sixty thousand called Anabel. From there, I took to land and flew by manipulated torches over a hundred kilometers above the dense, but hardly giant forest to the first object of Mani¡¯s interest.


    The first sign of my arrival was a sudden disappearance in the surrounding foliage. It was almost as if something told the trees or any other plant to never grow beyond a radius of thirteen meters, leaving a circle of polished stone as black as night acting as a dais for a white marble monolith.


    It seemed to tower over me ever more as I approached, turning from a pillar that could compete with trees to the tombstone of an ancient giant or magnificent beast, memorialized by scripts and glyphs that seemed to come from half a dozen cultures lost to history. A cipher of curved lines and geometrically arranged circles mixed with picturesque characters and maze-like scribbles.


    Acting on curiosity more than the pictures and whispers lingering on the edge of my senses, I reached out to rub my hand across the unerringly smooth surface.


    Acting on my actions, Mani¡¯s radiance increased tenfold and shone gloriously down on the monolith, which seemed to drink the pale light greedily. Yet, no new knowledge or memories found their way into my mind. Instead, the grogginess and fatigue that had accumulated in my body over the last six months slowly weaned. Then disappeared entirely.


    Words of the arcane appeared before me soon after, while the monolith brightened still, stealing my attention away from the details of my class to pull my eyes towards a glistening pile at the base of the now-dull monolith. I reached for them immediately, finding a sleekly gleaming set of light silver-blue scale mail and a matching sword- a falchion, set beside a strange mask that glowed with the silver radiance of the moon like the other pieces. But the mask, undoubtedly made of wood, seemed almost insubstantial. Ghostly. Showing countless visages carved into its grains more than the fine curves of the mask itself.


    Just as I began to slip it on, I found the cool touch of the grains released from my fingers and jumped to my face to start burrowing, pulling my skin away from the underlying muscle and cartilage to make room for the Mask of a Million Faces to reside. Yet the pain was as incorporeal as the mask itself. Ghostly. Distant enough for me to focus instead on the Seeker¡¯s Scales.


    Then came the whispers to tell me how the pieces were created and made and even how to care for them. But, like my ship, not how to use them. For that was the curse of lunacy I was granted in return for power. A taste of the truth. A glimpse, long enough to come to an understanding, nearly- to nearly see the entire picture. And then be turned away from it. It was knowing ninety-nine percent of the answer and focusing on that last percent. Focusing. Unhealthily. Compulsively. Obsessively.


    Maddeningly.


    From the greatest fighters to the mightiest mages, that was madness. But it wasn''t that way for Mani. Nor the man who lived inside it. He- Amun, sought such things not for a legendary status or more power, he loved seeking out the unknown for the simple joy of learning. It was what he dedicated his life to. Both of them. It was what I dedicated my life to. After selling my soul twice over. That was the reason I found myself unsurprised upon realizing I was sitting- had been sitting for two hours, feeling the essence of the moonlight-infused mithral armor in the same way as the sword before it.


    When that was done, I spent hours more before an easel, standing before a large and particularly long piece of parchment throughout the day and night while I sketched, drew, and painted everything I saw before me with more skill than I ever thought myself capable of. The feeling of the place itself was embedded in the parchment. The otherworldly feeling brought on by the forest¡¯s sudden end by this ring of stone. The half-lidded eye of the moon above shone brightly on the ancient stone as if it sought to learn as I learned. Even the motions of the moon throughout the days and the rising and dipping of the distant sun were portrayed. And when that was done, I spent days more scribbling on another parchment, copying the symbols and glyphs after I¡¯d arranged them by likeness. Making notes and guesses about the origin of the structure and its makeup, its position on the land and its orientation to the horizon, and what was hidden in the stone below or unseen in the air above.


    I spent a tenday studying the thing. Learning until arcane words appeared in my vision to both reward me for my actions and give me another goal to strive towards. And most of all, signaling the whispers to scratch at the back of my mind- deeper this time, enough to make me collapse hard on the nightly stone and scream in agony as knowledge and orders and magic were implanted in my mind and body until, as before, I realized I was sitting- had been sitting for nearly an hour, chanting words that didn¡¯t exist within a circle of silvery-glowing glyphs.


    My body was acting on its own, and I let it do its dance. I listened to the incantations rise in tune with the building moonlight within the structure and watched the monolith shroud the parchments in the pale light, changing them from a handful of merely painted sheets to a silver rod, floating in place, fanning its endless, silvery pages around it in a circle.


    Changing them into the Seeker¡¯s Scroll of Secrets.

 237 - Lunate

    So many spells.


    There were so many spells given to me by Amun to aid in my investigative quest. Many- most of them only required arcane words or eclectic gestures of the hands to cast. Others used the Moonsliver, my lunar mithral falchion, as a focus. But a few required components like my feather and the petrified eye of a newt. Things like diamond dust and, strangely, an eyelash encased in acacia gum.


    Things I decided I needed at once.


    Yet, other things occupied my mind. Notions and scratches lingered within my conscious stream of thought, telling me- unlike my comrades experienced- how to move further down my path.


    Whispering to me in the voice of my patron.


    ¡°The first- and easiest point has been found. But it only gets harder from here. Even you, blessed immensely as you are, cannot do it alone.


    ¡°Find your crew.¡± The Man inside the Moon continued after an eerie pause. ¡°Find the future captains and commanders of your fleet. For you have your job in the Legions still.¡±


    The searing pain of imparted knowledge punctuated his words, bringing me to my knees while my mind burned from blinding visions of colossal ships- magnificent vessels capable of soaring through the skies and ocean depths alike. Fleets of them, some kilometers long, housing cannons that could eclipse buildings. And commanding them all was me.


    ¡°Pirate or privateer. Naval hero or nautical explorer- your aim is your own. So long as you become the Chief of Admirals of our naval legion, I care not how else you are labeled. So find your crew, and hurry. A surprise awaits you.¡±


    ¡°How fortunate am I, to have such a benevolent patron.¡± I bowed lowly to the monolith, both a gesture to Amun and a goodbye to the otherworldly construct. And then I was off, walking dutifully through the woods under the mid-morning sun towards the city of Anabel, pausing only to envision a form in my mind and send it through the phantom mask embedded under my flesh.


    I knew not how they would react to a half-orc walking in their midst. But with the barbaric lands of the Mazi Council just to the north- a land teeming with orcs- I could only assume it to be adverse. With sun-tanned skin pocked with red insect bites and hair just as messy as the locals, though, I found it easy to walk through town with nary a glance my way.


    It was a strange feeling, walking down roads and avenues so akin to the ones from home and experiencing the very treatment I always longed for: indifference. I grew up the same as many of the urchins running through the streets. Begging, stealing, or doing whatever else necessary to simply survive. Fighting or being bullied- or feared, because of my blue-green skin and tusked jaw. Unlike most of them, I found my way out through the sea. On a merchant ship as a cabin boy. And I was happy. Happy, until I saw just how terrifyingly powerful the sea could be. Happy, until that Kraken saw me develop an obsession with finding a way to fight such immeasurable power.


    I honed my strength and skill as best as I could have and more. Yet, I continued to despair over how weak I was in the face of those monsters. I proved myself skilled enough to make it to the Bodhi Tree. And then I despaired more. I met a Devil and a God combined and agreed to his tantalizing offer. I received immense power. Enough to give me the confidence to sail fearlessly. Enough to rid my mind of the obsession that plagued me and caused the problems from before that time to resurface.


    I knew still, that these people- my people by half my blood- would only see my skin and jaw the moment I dropped my disguise. So I purchased my bit of acacia gum and waddled my way back to my ship, knowing- and denying- where and how I would find my crew.


    Sailing out of the inland waterways was as simple as any part of the journey thus far. Our meandering pace put us at the coast within a day, giving me ample time to sort through my thoughts until the opening waters ahead demanded my attention; for it was a sunny day with calm seas, and a ship like this cared not for the winds heading. More so, I saw exactly what I hoped not to see ahead. A pair of hardly settled islands some 300 klicks off the southern coast of the Horn of Mazi. Uninhabited rocky jungles with a few smoke stacks rising into the skies, and large cannons jutting out from the hills.


    A pirate stronghold.


    Two of several, according to Amun¡¯s map, and the smallest of the unclaimed islands dotting the seas around the Bodhi Peninsula. In all, it was easy to see why the shipping lanes hugged the coastline all the way around. Even then, though, they were subjected to becoming pirate prey. I had no intention of being their prey. I wanted their undivided attention.


    ¡°You, on the scope. And you.¡± I tossed the shadow durzgon my weapon once the little derru went running up the radar mast. ¡°Man the cannon. I want the dwarves ready to deploy the tender and capture anyone drowning. The oroug and the skeleton are to board with me.


    ¡°Neil.¡± I turned to the human shadow. ¡°Put us between the islands at dusk.¡±


    ¡°Hell yeah! I¡¯ve always wanted to be a pirate!¡± The undead pumped his fist overhead. "Let¡¯s make Darkblood proud and see what this thing can do!¡±


    I meant to inquire more of this, Darkblood, but I was suddenly caught by a deep, throaty growl before I was pushed back in my seat. Then the growl roared into a whining scream and the coast suddenly jumped to our backs. I started to feel as if we were floating- gliding as the whine evened out and soon remembered that we more or less were as a result of the lunar steel the ship was made from.


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    With water being one of the many affinities granted from the lunar materials and the jet propulsion technologies inside the ship, her maximum cruising speed was an astounding 26 meters per second. Even at such high speeds, however, she took around six hours to travel across the open seas and lull to a crawl between the islands. The sun had long since dipped below the Plane and the sky had taken on its midnight hue, darkened by the sparse light of the crescent moon. As a result, the ship hardly glowed in the sparse light, being covered by an illusory veil that glowed just enough to make us stand out as a silver sliver atop the wrinkled inky blanket of the sea.


    It didn¡¯t take long to see the first sign of sails in the distance. And it didn¡¯t take much longer for us to be fired upon from shoreline emplacements on the port and starboard side. Their large cannons and ballista rang like war drums in the night. Their shells and bolts shrieked madly as they sailed true, yet a purple veil spread around the ship caused them to veer away and harmlessly crash into a great cloud of mist.


    I leaned my head out of the bridge at once. ¡°Aim at the starboard emplacement and wait on my mark!¡± The undead dwarf-devil complied at once, wheeling the cannon around to face the right while I turned to Neil. ¡°Bring us in line with both islands.¡±


    ¡°Say no more!¡± He raised his thumb.


    Trusting him to know my intentions, I went out onto the deck with my Doppelganger and, after bracing myself, waited for the telltale signs to pierce through the fog.


    I knew not if my Doppelganger noticed it first or if I did. But when he gave the command, it was utter chaos. Having fired first, the fog off to the port side dispersed, and the fortification fired immediately. Trusting the ship to veer it off course, we kept our eyes trained on the further, larger island until a ribbon of lights blinked across its dark features. The ship lurched beneath me the moment I saw it, nearly pulling my feet from under me. After fighting to regain my balance, I faced about towards the stern to try to spot the madly screaming projectiles before a sudden push on the boat faced me towards a ray of pale light.


    Blindingly, the Moonbeam soared to the far island to bathe the emplacement in a ray of frigid light. Then the ship lurched again. The cranking of the cannon racked through the suddenly still night and it burst to life again, streaking silver fire across the port side island.


    I took off across the deck, catching glimpses of a few ships abandoning the chaos ensuing at both islands before I arrived to rip my sword from the cannon''s mount and point its tip to the furthest island.


    ¡°Fire!¡±


    The shadow devil-dwarf complied immediately by aiming the three-pronged barrel up and out across the waters. But instead of a cold line of pale light, a misty arc of the darkest darkness splashed across the water like an airy ink, filling the waters between us and the unmissable flagship in an undying night. Meanwhile, I thrust my sword back into the mount while the durzgon turned and lowered and fired off to the port side.


    Once, twice; flashes of pale light and silver fire ripped through their hulls entirely, vaporizing the wooden beams just at the waterline before a subtler throaty growl shrieked through the chaos. Then came more shrieking- human-like, as the undead dwarves corralled the drifting survivors.


    Under the cover of magical darkness, we coasted up to the flagship''s port side just seconds later, hearing confused and panicked shouts echoing through the peerless night. But with my blessings from Amun, I could see them as clear as day. More importantly, I could see they¡¯d managed to withdraw almost half the ship from the dark cloud and were engaged in attempting the impossible- fighting hard to get away from my ship. But the Moontear was unlike anything these realms have ever seen.


    With the press of a lever in his plush helm, Neil sent the vessel into a sideways motion, bringing us ever closer to the fleeing ship while our nose- and cannon, steadily pointed to the island. Meanwhile, I prepared myself with a surge of mana through my moon Mail Armor. Then gave a final look to my undead companions.


    ¡°Kill the officers. Let the cabin boys and young ones live. And save the Captain for me.¡±


    With my orders given, I looked inward to the eldritch lunacy implanted in my spirit to feel the cold, silver fire flowing through my armor, harnessed it, and found myself muttering as I stared at the flagship¡¯s deck.


    ¡°Saliet sicut argentum caligo!¡±


    My body turned incorporeal at the last syllable, then I found myself floating as a mass of silver mist. Drifting across the open waters to land at the point of my focus- behind a poor sod aiming a heavy crossbow at the shining beacon that was my armor.


    I swept down at once, slicing easily through his padded armor, and noticed for the first time, the lightness of the mithral blade as I casually reversed the motion. The ease at which the pointed tip slipped into his back astounded me, giving enough time for the young deckhands to lung forward with sabers, knives, and rapiers bared. But I was faster.


    Fluidly, I spun about while reaching into my components pouch to hold a cricket out at arm''s length, then flicked my eyes between the three deckhands whilst whispering. ¡°Somnus sanitatis in lunae lumen.¡±


    A surge of mana preceded a quaking chirp of the cricket, and then the three deckhands comically twirled to the ground as one, snoring loudly among the shouts and cries of their dying officers.


    Before turning on my heels towards the stern, I focused once more on the silver energy in my suit and muttered yet more eldritch words. "Vide in speculo argenteo."


    Another surge of mana, and out came four shimmering copies of myself that promptly shuffled between me and my Doppelganger. Then, with two behind me and two behind my clone, mimicking my movements precisely, we climbed the twin stairs leading up to the helm. And together, we bored holes into the paling captain while the skeleton and the undead dwarves pocketed the dead and rounded up the slumbering living.


    Of which there were many; and many more who clambered onto the deck, leaving puddles below their raised hands while they looked about the bloodied and corpse-less deck in horrified confusion before their eyes settled on their jumpy captain and the six objects of his focus- the six identical half-orcs surrounding him, all standing with outstretched hands, aiming bolts of crackling silver and black energy at the Captain¡¯s heart.


    ¡°Surrender.¡± I calmly ordered.


    ¡°Or, attack us. And become like them.¡± My clone gestured to the undead dwarf waiting impatiently. "Either way, you work for us now."


    After taking a solemn look at his crew, the Captain surrendered to his knees and unbuckled his belt, allowing his jeweled saber to clatter loudly to the deck. ¡°No need for threats,¡± he said grimly. ¡°We are at your mercy.


    ¡°Or, pardon my tongue, but you, young pirate, are at the mercy of the other Six Eyes.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a good thing you surrendered then.¡± I sheathed my sword with a smile and sent the mirror images off into nothingness. Then approached the Captain to kneel beside him. ¡°You can introduce me.¡±

 238 - Lunation

    Captain Riptide.


    ***


    Utter chaos.


    We Seven of the Green Eyes saw yet another significant loss that night. We of the Seven saw utter chaos.


    If I had known it would have come to this, I wouldn¡¯t have volunteered to lead the attack. Though, being the rookie of the Seven, I wouldn¡¯t have had a choice. It appeared on the horizon as the perfect target. A magnificent vessel, as curved as a raindrop and white like a pearl. Multiple decks. Plush. Luxuriant. And faster than anything I¡¯d ever seen. It had to be owned by some rich noble out to see the open seas for perhaps the first time- A rich noble out for a rude awakening, we thought. But what we met was utter chaos.


    In hindsight, our loss was obvious. In a way, it was no different from our actions across the mountain. In a way, it was the reckoning from that chaotic day. That was what I assumed after seeing that bolt of light blast through our ordnance with ease. Most of the guns were thrown into the mountain. Buried dozens of meters into the dirt and stone. Anything that wasn''t was shrouded in a silvery fire that burned cold.


    Even after a lifetime of piracy, I''ve never heard so much screaming- horrific howling through the night. I suddenly found myself glad to be sent out to sea. But my mirth didn¡¯t last long.


    Like the emplacements, the cannon of silver light plowed right through the ships sent from the sister island. And then that fearsome cannon aimed our way to spew a mist of dreadful darkness. It was a darkness that few creatures were able to conjure. And that particular darkness was able to conjure more dwarves and humans and other beings made from shadow and arcane light- beings of death who bowed to a single family across all the realms.


    One family tree. One with no half-orcs ever recorded to be hanging from its branches. Yet, those very branches were seen on his clothes. On his belt and cowl, the dark leafless tree we saw months ago, standing as tall as the Bodhi Tree.


    The horror of my dead officers aside, that fact made it far too easy for me to surrender. And not just my arms, but my coat as well. My coat, and more.


    I pondered it deeply once we took to shore- once I witnessed what became of my officers and saw, even in death, that they remained themselves. I thought about it deeply as I limped inland, staring under the light of the second sun at this half-orc springing with power and youth.


    He had to have stood a solid 195 centimeters. The thick bands of his muscles writhed under his glowing mail, implying that he wasn¡¯t just trained or experienced- or deadly- but that he was either wealthy or had the backing of someone who was. And the flowing black cloak clasped onto his shoulders gave me a good idea as to who. Yet, strangely, he didn¡¯t have the swagger of a pirate. He had a nice sword, glowing tattoos above his eyes and on his hands, silver-tipped tusks, and salted hair. But he seemed to have a naive sense of honor about him.


    Or, perhaps that wasn¡¯t it.


    I¡¯m not sure what it was, but it drove him to hardly listen to me explain the lifestyle and code of what he brought himself into. And worse, he looked upon the other Six Eyes as if they were random passersby. After the events of late, though, we of the Seven Eyes were.


    With that grim thought in mind, I looked each of the remaining Six hard in the eye. ¡°I, Captain Riptide of the Seven Green Eyes, stand before my usurper, surrendered and humbled. Taking my place at this council of greats is¡­ er- Captain Silvertusk.¡±


    He gave me a side eye but said nothing as the six introduced themselves in ascending order. The second-youngest of the Seven, Captain Rickety Woodgrain, the manic halfling known for setting entire fleets ablaze instead of plundering them. The savage and fearsome orcish Captain Sinoshk. The ruthless and charming Captain Bella ¡®Seadog¡¯ Hampton. The aged dwarven Captain Ragnuron Stronghull. Captain Lu-Lu Stubbs, the sixty-year-old goblin legend known for her trickery and cunning. And at the head of the round, broken table was the illustrious Captain Vexx. Even in this dire situation, she composed herself gracefully- as only a half-elf could.


    ¡°We are Six of the Green Eyes of Lonora. You, Captain Silvertusk, having brought Captain Riptide to his knees, make the seventh. Alone, that would be fine. However, we find ourselves in a... predicament.¡±


    ¡°Do you know where you stand, whelp?¡± Captain Sinoshk growled.


    ¡°I assume your pirate stronghold?¡± Silvertusk carelessly shrugged.


    ¡°Henmouth Island. The largest and left eye of our territory. Batnosya Island, the other eye, is in no better shape than this place.¡± Captain Vexx waved to the strangely charred but chilled rubble around us. ¡°Clithamia Island, further to the south, hosts the Red Fin Alliance. And every other uninhabited island around the continent boasts an additional pirate faction.¡±


    ¡°And now you¡¯re at risk of an attack,¡± Silvertusk said, and none present missed the distinction of his words. He didn¡¯t think himself a part of us. ¡°Assuming they learn of your current state.¡± He added.


    ¡°They know.¡± Captain Vexx assured him. ¡°If not now then soon they will. Word travels fast on these waters. And¡­¡± She flicked her gaze to the other six to wait for their respective nods. ¡°We were involved in a bit of a... folly.¡± She then sighed. ¡°Hubris or sheer stupidity, I know not what drove our actions. But we carried out a raid in the north. Beyond the mountain.¡±


    ¡°Polaris territory?¡± he incredulously asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Captain Vexx nodded. ¡°My crew alone was reduced from over one hundred fifty to just below fifty. Forty-seven, including me to be exact. And then you arrived. Though, we do not blame you for defending yourself.¡±


    ¡°And now, in defeat, you assume I¡¯ll join you?¡± he stoically asked.


    ¡°Therein lies the problem.¡± Captain Vexx smiled, pointing a slender finger out at Silvertusk. ¡°You don¡¯t look the part of a pirate. And your¡­ insignia gives me the notion that you belong to another already. Tell me.¡± She smiled wider. ¡°How does a half-orc come to wield the power of the second sun and darkness? What are you, exactly?¡±


    ¡°Half-orc.¡± Silvertusk absent-mindedly said. But Vexx paid his sarcasm no mind.


    ¡°A half-orc possessing eldritch magic," she said. "One who captains a magical ship and who proudly wears the mark of the darkest devils.¡±


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    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    He stared at her for a long moment. Trying to see something, I guessed, before he muttered four words that stole my breath from my lungs.


    ¡°I sold my soul.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± She laughed heartily. ¡°Shadows- the mark I understand. But to whom would you sell your soul to wield the light of the second sun?¡±


    Captain Silvertusk laughed this time. Long and hard for an uncomfortable- and disrespectful- moment. ¡°What you call the second sun is, in truth, called Mani.¡± He gestured to the nearly closed eye above. And then to the stars representing Tiamat and Bahamut and Viltramas and all the other deities. ¡°Other than the proximity, Mani is no different from the other stars in the sky. I sold my soul to the God who dwells inside it. And now, I live as his Seeker. His Investigator.¡±


    The amusement faded further from her face with each passing word and when they were spent, she found herself staring just as intently as the other six- just as intently as me, until she finally asked. "The investigator of what?¡±


    ¡°The unknown, illegal, and the arcane.¡± Silvertusk flatly said. ¡°Whatever Mani spies in the lands and seas from above, I seek. Faithfully.¡±


    ¡°So then, what did you come here to investigate?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± He quickly shook his head. ¡°I came here to recruit.¡±


    The other six erupted in laughter this time. Admittedly, I did too. But his next words cut through the noise just as easily as his ship¡¯s cannon through our hulls. ¡°My patron walks among us. He¡¯s here, in these lands. And he has a guild.


    ¡°I am a captain of his Legions.¡± He continued. ¡°Tasked with forming a fleet. Join me- you and your crews. Join my fleet as captains and you¡¯ll have my word that whatever treasure we find along the way is yours to split evenly. He pays me enough as is.¡±


    ¡°If I understand, you¡¯re a warlock.¡± Lu-Lu leaned over the table, a maddened humor glistening in her yellow eyes. ¡°Your patron pays you in power and gold?¡±


    ¡°And knowledge and more. He is generous.¡± He patted his mail with a nod, much to the interest of me and many of the Seven. But¡­


    ¡°Pirates?¡± Captain Seadog clarified with a rambunctious laugh. ¡°You wanna recruit pirates?¡±


    ¡°Who else would be willing to sail under such an eldritch a half-orc?¡±


    She sunk into her seat immediately. ¡°Fair point.¡±


    ¡°Besides.¡± Silvertusk continued. ¡°He has far worse labels and cares not what we are. To that end, we are what the situation calls for. We are pirates, nautical explorers, and a military force all in one. The Grand Noctis Fleets.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Captain Vexx slowly tapped her chin. But Captain Stronghull broke the pontificating silence with a resounding snort.


    ¡°You want us? Not a navigator or quartermaster? Us?¡±


    Silvertusk didn¡¯t even turn to him. Another one of those twins of his appeared from nowhere and waddled over to answer the rugged dwarf. ¡°Already fulfilled.¡± He quickly said, pointing to the man of darkness who appeared across the table. ¡°Niel, there, is the navigator until we kill another hydromage. And I¡¯m the quartermaster.¡± He stabbed himself with his thumb. ¡°We have other little minions for the other jobs. Meaning you.¡± He pointed a finger over all of us. ¡°Will have specialized positions.¡±


    ¡°This power¡­¡± I heard Captain Vex mutter. But Woodgrain¡¯s next statement pulled my eyes away from her at once.


    ¡°How are ye payin''?¡±


    ¡°Starting?¡± the copy shrugged carelessly. ¡°Ten gold a week.¡±


    ¡°Thirty a month?¡± I incredulously asked, uncaring who heard.


    ¡°As I said. My patron is generous.¡±


    ¡°Can we meet him?¡± Captain Vexx asked. But before Silvertusk could begin to reply, the crescent shape of the second sun brightened to blinding proportions to carry the most soothing voice imaginable to our ears.


    ¡°You can.¡±


    All but Captain Silvertusk fought to peer through the light until it faded enough to reveal a dark shape overhead. Then faded further just as my eyes began to water, blurring the sight of an aberrant creature of many hides and furs and many textures and colors. Curious more than panicked, I rubbed my eyes and looked closer. Finding not an aberrant creature, but two massive direwolves and a pair of owls curled around and perched atop a man¡¯s shoulders. An elven man, perhaps a drow, with the black hair and rounded facial structure of a human lineage.


    ¡°A monk?¡± Captain Seadog muttered in surprise, drawing me to his fashionable robe of black silks and silver inlays curved into the same emblem Silvertusk sported- an emblem that suited him perfectly.


    ¡°And a cute one.¡± Seadog giggled, and with her comments said, turned to Captain Vex for some insight but nearly lost her jaw from what she saw.


    Wide-eyed and pale, the esteemed Captain Vexx stared at the elven monk with equal parts awe and fear, whispering incoherent somethings to herself while he absently shifted his gaze between us. ¡°Emeric?¡± She eventually gasped. But he looked at her with the same amiability as before. Then shook his head.


    ¡°My name is Amun.¡± He palmed his chest. ¡°Son of Eved and Emeric Cole.¡±


    ¡°So, it¡¯s true.¡± She slumped back into her throne and slowly shifted her eyes between the dark humans and Silvertusk¡¯s clone. ¡°The black tree... it was you. The House of Cole- The Nox has returned.¡±


    ¡°That it has. And I created not just the dark tree, but the object you wrongly call the second sun.¡± Amun nodded cheerfully, darkening the visages of Lu-Lu, Stronghull, and Vexx alike. ¡°Luckily for you, however.¡± He gestured to Silvertusk. ¡°My subordinate has opened the door for you to walk under Mani¡¯s light. And so I ask you¡­


    ¡°Will you cross the threshold?¡±


    ¡°Those in favor of joining the Noctis Fleet, declare yourselves.¡± Captain Vexx said after a few moments of silence, then slowly raised her slender hand. Followed by Sinoshk. And Lu-Lu. And Woodgrain. And Seadog. And begrudgingly, Stronghull. Even I raised my hand, declaring my five surviving crew and myself as Captains- hopefully- in the fleet. It¡¯s not as if we had a choice in the matter. Or rather, we did, but the other option was to sit on the island and starve until someone came to wipe us out. That said¡­


    ¡°May I be so bold as to make a request?¡± I stepped forward, then turned my gaze to Lu-Lu. She would understand. ¡°I-¡± I paused to look at the many shadow dwarves standing about.


    ¡°Your body is old and weak so you want to become an undead shadow?¡± Amun guessed before I could even speak, disgust evident in his tone. ¡°Do not rush to your death. There are things that can only be enjoyed by the living. And, greater things await the seven of you still. Wealth and boons. power and prominence. Knowledge and wisdom and unbounded freedom across the World Seas. So make your pledge to your new Commander, Captain John Ripley.¡± He smiled, sending a cold shiver down my spine. ¡°And if you want what your heart desires, form a pact with me.


    ¡°Or not.¡±


    Unless otherwise stated, it was customary for Captain Vexx to be the first to do anything. This was no different. With power booming in her voice, she pledged her fealty and that of her forty-six crewmates to Captain Silvertusk, binding their very spirits together in an everlasting contract before she did the same to Amun, requesting a taste of that silver power for herself.


    Silvertusk listened stoically, accepting her pledge while his patron clasped his hands before him in meditative prayer and chanted ever so softly. Seemingly beckoning the light of the second sun- of Mani, to pour into her slender frame. And when her last syllable was spent, her eyes bloomed with a silver light, and her back arched in evident pain. But when she recovered, her face was serene and her eyes were tearful, filled with a visible mix of a dozen emotions.


    The same sight was repeated five times over, with five different requests placed on top of that radiant energy. Lu-Lu pleaded for the return of the agility she had in her youth and- if it wasn''t too presumptuous, to become unaging. In typical orcish and dwarven fashion, Captains Sinoshk and Stronghull wanted strength, though the former wanted metals too. Seadog wanted agility and grace in the water, and Woodgrain wished for the same in the air.


    When my turn came and went, I no longer found myself longing for undeath. Instead, like Lu-Lu, I was all too eager to sell my soul and rid myself of old age and the weaknesses of the flesh. Moreover, I was all too eager to become a warlock.


    What I saw when that light hit me made me realize how utterly vast this Mortal Plane was. More importantly, it made me understand what kind of ship we all signed up for. This voyage was to take us from the depths of the World Seas to the top of the skies, around the Mortal Plane, back again, and across many lifetimes, I suddenly realized; and I couldn''t have been more excited.


    ¡°Congratulations on your promotion, Commander¡­ Silvertusk.¡± Amun chortled softly at the half-orc writing in pain that far outweighed ours. ¡°Though your numbers are small, you are the first in the Legions to have more than one company. As such.¡± He turned an amused smile towards the coast. ¡°I¡¯m taking your ship for a refit.


    ¡°Your new one will be here soon enough.¡±

 239 - Lunatic

    "I wonder what it''ll be like."


    "Very big. And nice enough to please an emperor."


    I looked at my clone- my Doppelganger incredulously as I have so many times throughout the past seven or so days.


    I knew not if should have called him John or Rip or Tide or any other version of my title. He appeared just like me. His skin was the same sun-kissed tan as mine, wrinkled by the sun and the sea as much as it was scarred from battle. His green eyes held the same silvered touch as mine and his clothes showed the same luster of a rambunctious young pirate heading towards the end of his youth. And we acted the same. But also not. He knew the same things I knew. He retained my preferences and habits and ensured they''d be reflected in the ship. But he also knew things I didn''t. He taught me extraordinary things.


    Or, he tried to.


    Some concepts were easy to learn. Our blessings for example. Like Captain Silvertusk- Hogaz, we made pacts with the Man Inside the Moon as followers, not servants. In turn, we were blessed not with spells but with the ability to see through magical darkness and cursed with no longer needing sleep; instead, we required eight hours of light activity such as reading or, as I intended, napping.


    Aside from that, Amun was the most recent child of the Nox. That became obvious after seeing his shadow undead and then seeing him. He was born into that family of abyssal devils. Infamous sorcerers, known for bringing the darkest plagues to the southern peninsula for centuries on end. A pedigree that boasted names like the Necro King, the Raven Reaper, the Shadow Puppeteer, the Skull Kid, the Mad Void Monk, and most famously in our eyes, Captain Darkblood.


    On top of that, he was a God. A new God, yet one who''s granted power to clerics and druids and rangers alike. A God of the Moonlight, of Twilight, of Engineering- making creations like that deadly ship- and¡­ Mana. Not magic but mana itself.


    His being a God of such things meant the powers and creations and knowledge he would grant us would far outweigh those most warlocks received, and it all was independent of faith. But, he was a Guildmaster on top of that. A commander of what was to become no less than 11 legions of militant explorers by the next year. Warrior nomads on an eternal mission to traverse the lands, seas, and skies of the Mortal Plane without end. And Commander Silvertusk was to command everything that touched the seas.


    We, in turn, were to command specialized fleets. Captain Vexx was to form an elite force of warriors capable of fighting anywhere from the ocean deep to the open skies and even on land, far from the support of the fleet. Captains Stubbs and Stronghull would command ships designed to swim below the surface and would respectively conduct reconnaissance or launch surprise attacks. On the other hand, Captain Seadog was to command a fleet of fast attack craft and train her sailors to board other ships. Captain Sinoshk would command hulking vessels adorned with massive cannons meant to bombard lands or other ships from afar. Woodgrain and his halfling crew would learn to operate flying ships to wreak havoc from above. And then there was me. In charge of surveying and mapping out the sea floor.


    That was where I started struggling to understand Rip''s words.


    He spoke of strange things. He tried to teach me about the strange devices I''d find inside the ship. Glass tablets that contained all the realms'' information, small enough to fit in a pouch. Windows that would let us view the actions of the Legionaries from across the peninsula. Machines capable of creating machines that could create machines that could create nearly anything, and for what the machines couldn''t do, the undead could.


    The shadow undead and our clones, we all assumed, would make our lives easy. They cleaned out the rubble and began reconstruction on the island, cooked our food and more while we lounged and recovered and made plans for the future. And once we healed, our days and sleepless nights were filled with education and training.


    For every lesson we learned, we spent quadruple the time fighting our clones and the immortal undead. Triple the time was spent learning how to bend the elements properly. Double the time was used to learn how to fly. And on the seventh sundown, the night Mani''s eye closed, the training halted suddenly.


    Wordlessly, the Seven gathered on the outcropping of cracked stone and peered down the hill towards the coast to watch, to wait for a glimpse of that shimmering hull. But instead, the only shimmering light came from the sharp tusks and mail armor of a young half-orc.


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    He nodded to each of us while unfurling a large and highly detailed map of the peninsula onto the table, appearing as a standing cigar pinched in the middle before the end piece was blasted off. From the island off the top right corner, a dotted line looped around the Horn of Mazi before stopping at a silver bead above the city of Chor. It continued, but with Hogaz''s finger covering the route, we all looked at him expectantly.


    At least until Vexx spoke up. "Sinestro''s concert."


    "The journey will take us a day at full speed." Hogaz flatly confirmed, making us howl and yelp and scoff in anticipation or disbelief. Except for Vexx.


    "You will meet the other Legionary Captains there." Hogaz continued with little concern. "Worry not about acquiring provisions for the journey. The Legion provides, and I will cover the admission. Enjoy the vacation and enjoy yourselves. Just try not to get into too much trouble.


    "I know not what Amun has planned for you during that time." He paused, then revealed his hand to show the rest of the meandering course making its way around the entirety of the peninsula. "But after, we''re to sail around the peninsula to attend to my two other investigations. And along the way." He turned an unsettling smile over each of us. "We''ll be looting ancient ruins and meeting those pirate alliances you spoke of.


    "I envision us returning to this island with a proper fleet behind us in nine or so months. By then, we can turn this island into a proper stronghold and begin your initiation into the Legio Noctis if it hasn''t already begun. Any questions?" He darted his eyes between us a final time before standing tall, rolling up the map, and tossing a glowing slip of parchment on the table. "Write your names on this."


    Many of us- everyone except Vexx and Lu-Lu, looked at him curiously but otherwise did as instructed and signed the thing. Noting only the vibrancy of the paper and how it seemed to turn over to a blank page after being signed until it returned to its rightful owner. But he too spent seconds writing on the individual slips before stowing the thing away and turning without a word or gesture.


    Instead, I heard his voice ringing in my head. And by the looks of everyone else, they heard it too. "Come. We''ll go over your roles and the ship rules on our way to the docks."


    With the prospects of Chor on the horizon, I could hardly listen. But I''d been a pirate since I could stand and plagued the seas for over fifty years. My ears caught everything.


    Until we once again commanded our own ships, Vexx was to be second in command as the quartermaster, and I was the navigator. Stronghull was the chief engineer, Lu-Lu was in charge of surveillance and reconnaissance, Seadog was in command of the boarding force, Sinoshk was the gunner, and Woodgrain was to work in whatever the hangers were. The other jobs like overwatch, cleaning, and cooking would be done by our clones and, unsettlingly, the undead, freeing our schedules up for more education and training.


    As far as ship rules went, it was the usual stuff. No gambling- on or off the ship. Bringing men on women on the ship to bed was forbidden. Fighting amongst the crew was to be done on land, with blades or spells. No lights or open flames after dark. Vexx was to receive her share and the Captain''s share of the loot, considering he denied it indefinitely. Lastly, there was to be no rape or slavery. In addition, we were obligated to keep ourselves clean and presentable at all times. To that end, were given a catalog of clothes, weapons, and gear to choose from, compliments of the Legions. A compliment that we, as pirates, took seriously, walking away with clothes made of the finest materials, with many rings and gems, and even adamantine or mithral cutlasses, knives, and rapiers.


    As the Captain said, his- our patron was generous. Even more so, considering stealing, robbing, and killing was fine as long as we assumed responsibility for our actions. And if we found ourselves without orders, we were free to do as we pleased.


    Lastly, three things were to be sent up the chain immediately. Wild undead being spotted, ancient ruins being found, or an encounter with an extremely powerful creature.


    "If I may, Commander." I approached the half-orc once we arrived at the shockingly well-made docks. "When are we to embark?"


    "At sundown tomorrow," he said, not removing his eyes from the faint glimmer of silver in the southern skies. "We''ll take a day to grow accustomed to the ship. And our arrival will give us a day in Chor before the event."


    "Aye." I nodded, and, fully satisfied with the answer, lowered my eyes to the object of our affection.


    It was just moving into the position that rendered it dark in the night sky. A monthly event the Commander called the new moon.


    We all stared and watched it creep into that position, fading slowly into a thin sliver of pale light that waved over us and remained at the shores, even as the eye far above fell into its slumber. And then my eyes fell too.


    Or- they tried to.


    Instead, they remained locked on the ambiguously dark point of the sky while a searing cold began creeping into my mind, forcing a pulsing growth to burrow into my gray matter so it could conjure visions of a field of bolts and panels and constructs flowing together into a cohesive shape. The silver tendrils writhed deep into my skull, implanting knowledge about the thousand intricacies of the sliver that fell from the moon. Its specifications, amenities, capabilities, and so on and so on until the endless moment passed and we were standing before something glorious.

 240 - Lunarian

    When I came to, I saw not a sliver of light. Or perhaps I saw just that, given how massive I imagined Mani to be. The sliver- The Moonsliver, was a Pearlsteel-hulled behemoth of a ship that stretched a jaw-dropping 392 meters out into the frigid waters and towered 78 meters above the waterline.


    The crew of almost three hundred scrambled for it immediately. As if it were under the threat of disappearing, they darted across the pale-stone of the docks and raced up the towering stairs to be the first on deck and remembered at the last second that such a right was reserved for the commander first, and then the officers. And so, we tentatively stepped- the Commander included, up the stairs to stand on the largest deck I ever placed my feet on.


    41.7 meters was the full beam of the deck and besides the sail-less mast, it was dominated by three, triple-barreled cannons tucked - somehow - neatly inside mounts as large as a merchant''s home. Or perhaps a noble''s, I thought after seeing the many chairs and couches and tables and other bits of furniture spread elegantly across the space. No lines or sails cluttered the place either. Nor was anything attached to the towering fin-like mast, only terraces and balconies jutted out the aft-end, akin to a shark''s fin, capped with strange domes or spinning bits that somehow scanned the surrounding area better than our eyes and ears ever could.


    Six floors, it housed, and it was vast. Holding enough space for our quarters, workstations, offices, and much more. Most of us, at least, for Captains Stronghull, Sinoshk, and Seadog¡¯s quarters were below the main deck, close to their workstations but in quarters I assumed to be no less elegant than ours.


    Besides the glass doors sliding open on our approach, the first thing I noticed upon entering was the pleasant warmth of the air. It hit me like a wall as I entered, making me stop and turn my eyes about the posh couches, potted plants, and illusory mirrors arranged atop polished marble floors set below hanging chandeliers. There was more to the floor besides an officer¡¯s mess and galley, I presumed, but my clone of darkness- Rip- shoved me onto a broom closet before I could begin exploring.


    It sealed shut on its own like the glass door, leaving me in a box of wood grains, potted plants, and sourceless music while my clone calmly pressed a switch in the wall.


    ¡°It¡¯s a lift,¡± he said once a noticeable force pushed against my feet. ¡°This one¡¯s yours. Leads straight to your workstation and quarters.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± I nodded. Then almost stumbled once a wave of vertigo came over me, but the doors pulled apart to reveal something miraculous.


    It was just what I envisioned I¡¯d have after a long life of piracy. A room- a home that felt like a part of nature. Like my quarters on the island stronghold that once was. Open to the air and rain. Flowering plants and reaching vines covered the illuminated walls, sending a dozen shadows across the live moss and porous stones making up the floor of the circular landing. And one of those glowing mirrors encompassed the entire ceiling, giving me clear views of the night sky despite there being tons of metal above my head.


    In an alcove off to the side of the circular landing was a bed wide enough for me and three others to lay on either side of me, filled with a material softer than clouds. And I had a head with a bath and a shower that poured a rainfall of the purest, steaming water. Back inside the landing, I had a cooling box, a hot plate, an oven to store and cook my food or brew my coffee, and a dumb waiter to bring food to my crystalline table from below the main deck. And for my beloved wine, I had an entire closet that could make chill to the touch in mere hours.


    But still, there was more.


    I had not quarters or a home, even, but a wing. A study sat in an alcove next to my room. And across from them both was access to my terrace. My private balcony, complete with chairs, tables, and even a small pool to relax and soak in the views afforded by this magnificent ship.


    Even on the mast¡¯s third deck, the crew appeared as ants as they scurried about the aft, belting things down, or going over the many air and watercraft stored inside the hull. The hangar, that area was. A deck of interconnected platforms capable of lowering into the hull and raising those flying machinations- planes, onto the deck so they could take flight. Judging from Amun¡¯s foresight in building the devices to fit halflings and the zeal shown in Captain Woodgrain ordering his crew around, it seemed a role the manic captain was destined for.


    The same could have been said for each of us.


    According to my visions and the illusory mirrors, Captain Stronghull¡¯s domain was on the lowest deck, just below Woodgrain¡¯s and entirely below the waterline. Yet, Stronghull¡¯s territory encompassed the length of the ship, for he had the most demanding job out of all of us, maintaining constructs around the terrifyingly powerful crystals that provided us with heat and light and these information-granting devices. On top of that, he was to use what we salvaged or looted in the sprawling workshops found below to replace, repair, or remake anything on the ship that needed maintenance. But like all true dwarves, he and his crew took on the burden proudly.


    Deck three was almost entirely Seadog¡¯s realm. Her quarters sat at the heart, with easy access to the skiffs and other boats clamped down tightly in the warehouse-like spaces on the port and starboard sides. Her crew was not far away either, shortening the time it¡¯d take for them to scramble to the boats, unfurl the massive ramp designed into the hull, and race off toward enemy ships or shores.


    Although the aft end was occupied by the indoor farms and fish hatcheries, the forward end contained similar structures for the goblin-helmed swimming boats- squid or shell-shaped constructs of Pearlsteel, capable of swimming below the surface as easily as a fish. For the crew, there were the mid and forward portions of deck two and the majority of deck one. The former was their space of leisure while the latter boasted their elegant quarters, save the munitions store and Captain Sinoshk¡¯s quarters.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Through some link I had yet to comprehend, I could watch his crew toil about from the comfort of my room. From my bed, I could stare up and watch them ferry hulking munitions that appeared more like crimped pipes than cannonballs. They were mostly formed of brass or perhaps even gold. Saved the crimped portion, which had the undeniable sheen of adamantine. And they were large. As large as the hulking Sinoshk¡¯s torso and perhaps more.


    The look on his face told me he was just as eager as I was to see what they could do to an enemy encampment. But the wistfulness of my heart tugged me off of my bed and into my lift. Down I went, to the second level of the mast to gaze in wonder on the many games and bars and other features and amenities of the officer¡¯s lounge before I turned tail, stopping at the fourth level to catch glimpses of the brig and the quartermaster¡¯s vast level before Vexx hounded me back into the lift to see a singular room of blinking lights and screens on the fifth level. My workplace.


    Rather than leaving through the door I entered from, I took the door next to it and stepped into a corridor following the length of the ship. A similar set of doors sat before me, Lu-Lu''s quarters, no less extensive and far more exuberant than mine. Picking a random direction, I went aft and was met with a windowed lounge that opened up to a bare-bones terrace. Forward, however, was a plush room of silvery furniture bathed in red light. A large glass table sat on top of a thick pedestal straddled by plush thrones that dominated the room. One throne sat to port and the other sat on the starboard side. Both were surrounded by a comfortable array of those obsession-inducing illusory mirrors that- as my clone tried to tell me- contained all the knowledge in the realms and then some.


    With a mere touch of them, I could read everything there was to know about the surrounding waters. The depth of the water below the ship: 3.12 kilometers. Wind direction and speed, northeast at 2.3 meters per second. Our current heading and speed, due south and zero meters per second. As I could in my room, I could observe the goings on in any important part of the ship. The hangar, the munitions bay, the tender garage, the torpedo bay. Even my room, after I made a password for myself.


    Swordfish.


    The glass table between my seat and Lu-Lu¡¯s could do more, however. A touch of it enabled us to see the cigar shape of the peninsula from Mani¡¯s perspective. With another gesture, I could focus on any point in the region, bringing the streets of a city two kingdoms away into fine view and more, bringing little windows into view to read about the goings on of that place. There was even a voice to read it to us in case we were otherwise preoccupied.


    As the navigator- as a pirate, it was an invaluable tool I quickly became lost in. Throughout the night I performed my job as a navigator diligently and made marks of the many challenges and interests open to us along the course of our journey. I wrote down and did my best to memorize the meaning behind the various blips and motes of light that seemed to float above or below the glass. The latter wound up being a simpler task. A hollow box was any unidentified and moving thing. A solid circle represented large creatures, be they of the sea or air. Triangles marked other vessels. If any of the three were red they were an enemy marked for judicious extermination. Blue was friendly, silver was unknown, and gold was non-hostile. Aside from that, their positions above or below the glass represented their position above or below the water''s surface.


    As for the latter, I learned many interesting things that only God¡¯s perspective could offer. I saw evidence of conspiracies against the Vrurian Empire along the Mazian border and another against the Chaulort Kingdom near the Kingdom of Rhar¡¯s borders. I saw mana-fueled fault lines ripping the hearts of Vruria and Ligin apart. I saw epidemics in the likes of Knighilia, Rhar, Chaulort, and the Kasian Empire taking root. I saw intense areas plagued with regular earthquakes, tsunamis, cyclones, and blizzards. I saw hints of ancient ruins. I saw signs of pirate rookies. I read tales of dangerous lake beasts and sea monsters and used these amazing devices to make suggestions for our course and send them up to the Captain without having to disturb him with a visit. And when the sun rose, I did as everyone else did and began training and learning how to make the most of the Moonsliver.


    This magnificent ship was faster and more maneuverable than any ship in existence. Just as fast as the ship the Commander defeated us with, despite its absurdly larger size. It had no sails or propellers to push it forward, instead using the tremendous power of the arcane crystal to shoot jets of water from the aft end to push the ship forward, backward, or even sideways. Though we had yet to fire the cannons, the sheer size and count of them made me certain of it being deadly enough to stand against a Kraken, not to mention a nation. Each housing boasted a three-pronged cannon similar to the one we saw in action. Only these were much larger and were straddled by two slightly smaller cannons with spiraling grooves down the interiors of the barrels.


    It was so elegant that I¡¯ve rarely seen anything that could compare to it. And it was more luxurious than anything I assumed I¡¯d ever live in. Even the lowest-ranking crewmen had private and spacious rooms. Even though they were destined to work with massive cannons or fight inside sinkable ships or scrap within flying boxes, they¡¯d been given pools and spas and elegant dining halls for them to have their fun in during their off time.


    The Moonsliver was¡­ invincible. Capable of traveling on the open seas indefinitely. Water- pure and fresh, could be extracted from the seas on which we sat. Fruits and vegetables of all kinds could be grown year-round in the blindingly bright halls below deck and fish from both the salty sea and from fresh lakes could be bred in vast tanks by the hundreds. It was, by all rights, a mobile fortress. One that, we learned during the voyage, would make the famous city of Chor look like the slums of Brybs in comparison. Thus, when the City of Bards finally appeared on the horizon, few were seen hanging from the rails to witness the sight. Instead, they were in their rooms or the common areas, their eyes glued to the many data slates, terminals, and looking glasses.


    Perhaps they were weary from their long hours of training and learning the intricacies of their new jobs, and so chose to spend their time of leisure- the current time- watching the humans and Felipians and goliaths and striflings- the Captains of the Legio Noctis, using different types of technology to make their way to Chor.


    Regardless of the reason why, only a few of us saw the Commander and Quartermaster step from his balcony and use flames and mana to launch themselves out of the illusory camouflage and over the open waters toward the City of Bards, silently kicking off our period of leave.


    ¡°I can¡¯t wait until I can do that.¡±

 241 - Wrong Number

    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Ugh.¡± The umbral form of my ancestor''s hands- Henry Cole, lifted his ghostly hat to swipe his spectral hand over his incorporeal hair. ¡°I never knew my head could hurt in death.¡±


    ¡°Let''s start from the bottom, shall we?¡± Telman Cole, father to the Necro King and son to the great pirate captain, swept his slender hands across my underworld in a suggestive manner, turning to and fro my other ancestors before his long-dead eyes fell on me. ¡°You are a monk following the Way to Death¡¯s Door?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I confirmed for not the first time from atop my necrotic throne. ¡°If I understand things correctly, my necrotic Ki is inversely proportional to my health. The closer I come to dying, the stronger my Ki will be, keeping me at death¡¯s door when I should have stepped through.¡±


    ¡°Cole was said to be a monk,¡± Corvus muttered. More to herself than to me, it seemed. ¡°The Way of Void.¡±


    ¡°So I¡¯ve heard.¡±


    ¡°In his day, he was called the Mad Void Monk.¡± She turned her gaze to me and paused, leaving the rest of her words unsaid for us to ponder. At least until Telman broke the silence.


    ¡°And you are a¡­ Grandmaster Artificer?¡± Telman asked.


    ¡°At the seventh step.¡±I nodded. ¡°Grandmaster Alchemist. My next few¡­ tasks are to learn the art of enchanting before I scour the realms for evidence of runes.¡±


    ¡°The language of time immemorial.¡± Telman explicated immediately. ¡°From a time long before the portals. Before even the dragons and giants warred, some believe. When gods and our first ancestor, Zefroth roamed the Mortal Plane. According to my son, the evidence you seek is somewhere in Betrarth.¡±


    ¡°Such direction is as aimless as he is.¡± Corvus snorted. ¡°But the Path of Zefroth? That intrigues me. This, I presume, has been the object of your dream. Do they continue?¡±


    ¡°I assume so as well, and yes.¡± I nodded again. ¡°Every day. The path tasks me with learning how to live as a devil, creating warlocks, and learning about our history. And eventually, connecting with our ancestors.¡±


    ¡°As only you could. A being of the Void, you are.¡± She cryptically assured me before her eyes darted swiftly to my wrists. ¡°There is your other class, however. Rogue Devil. Soul Mastermind. It appears you received what you asked for." She smiled cutely. "Your specialty is now deals and curses.¡±


    ¡°And being a rogue will be easy for you. There¡¯s two of you after all!¡± Azrael, my grandfather and the creator of the first spell I ever learned, knowingly winked.


    I gave him a wink back. Noticed by Henry alone. ¡°Are you to be a pirate?¡± He smiled wickedly.


    ¡°Not me, but one of my subordinates is forming a fleet as we speak. Although.¡± I chortled dryly. ¡°His ship may be overkill.¡±


    ¡°Overkill is the best kill.¡± He smiled wider. ¡°More meat for the grinder, as they say! Or, maybe it does matter.¡± His smile suddenly flattened. ¡°You¡¯re all¡­ holy now." Darkblood''s hands waved dramatically. "It¡¯s weird."


    ¡°You didn¡¯t believe me before?¡±


    ¡°Seeing is believing.¡± He shrugged. ¡°And then¡­ you know, there are evil deities.¡±


    ¡°Touche.¡± I heartily laughed.


    ¡°Moonlight and Twilight, I¡¯ve come to understand.¡± Telman scratched his great beard. ¡°But¡­ Mana? You are the God of Mana?¡±


    ¡°Yes. And I¡¯ll eventually be able to give or take mana away from people, places, or things; not to mention affinity cores. On top of that, I¡¯m the God of Engineering. Merging magic and science to create things like this.¡±


    ¡°Wow!¡± Henry whistled low in response to the dozens of silver screens floating about them, showing them videos of the Moonsliver and the other, much smaller vehicles owned by the Captains. ¡°That is overkill.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± I shrugged. ¡°But the seas are a part of my Moonlight; and with exploration also being within my divine profile, I intend to have my fleets explore all of the World Seas.


    ¡°So, Captain Darkblood.¡± I turned the youngest of my fanged ancestors. ¡°Tell me all about a pirate¡¯s life.¡±


    ---


    After a quite lengthy conversation, I stepped out of my necrotic world and emerged in a land not unlike it. The skies above me were plain and featureless. But blue instead of black, with a blazing orb positioned low enough in the sky to cast eerie shapes from the dense field of flowers and trees- a one-hundred-shaded web of verdant greens hidden beneath white pillows, rather than the endless shades of gray I saw below.


    There was a chill in the air, biting distantly at my skin. They were birthed from the gelid winds that traveled undisturbed over the Nonus-Betrarth World Sea until they barreled into the Jovian-sized bay that housed the Bodhi Peninsula. Being kilometers lower than the tree and the wilds it accompanied, those winds rolled over the southern lands almost indefinitely, halted only by the arid gusts that periodically came in from Nonus to the far west. Thus the southern end of the Bodhi Peninsula was on the cusp of winter. Yet, as I gazed across Crater Lake from these eroded shores, I saw a sheet of ice in the far distance, broken apart by the eroded edge of the crater peering out above the everlasting white.


    Winter was here, brought on by an unnatural occurrence in the outskirts of Crater Lake, where, in a place called Shujen Bay, a Death Jarl saw fit to form his lair. Which was fine. I pointed him there after noticing some things, after all. Yet, it inadvertently made my current task all the more difficult.


    My curiosity- and impatience- got to me. After finishing my alchemical endeavor and smelling the roses between the borders of Mazi and Nevstan, I found myself unable to wait to move further down the rogue path. For it was then that I¡¯d be able to summon my closest devilkin. That said, I had a scroll from the Shadeforge stronghold Though I was guaranteed to gain a ''familiar'' further down the rogue path, I simply couldn¡¯t wait that long. More so, the booty I received from that raid had yet to be utilized.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Besides the golem summoning talismans and the enchanted items, my interest lay with the fiend-summoning tome. It had the true name of one such entity. And, though it said not whether it was a demon or devil, I felt as if an introduction was long overdue. So, with a fairly large diamond in hand, I scoured the coast in search of a break from the winds pouring away from Zaraxus'' lair.


    I found it after not too much meandering. Some thickets that¡¯d been hollowed out by some creature and subsequently abandoned, leaving a thorny shell just tall enough for me to stand in. More importantly, it was just wide enough for me to carve an intricate circle of sigils into the dirt and to stand at the entrance after placing the diamond at the center. Then, I started chanting. Singing in a guttural and nefarious language while the diamond raised and glowed with the light of blackened blood until it widened, forming a wide portal that gave views of a fiery realm, wherein I called. ¡°Lily!¡±


    A heeled foot stepped out at once. Attached to a leg with rich tan skin, naked and smooth until the wide hips met a leotard-covered waist, and out swung a bulging bust suffocated in tight leathers. Then came the other leg, followed by a set of clawed, almost leathery hands that grasped the edge of the gate and gracefully pulled to reveal a stunningly alluring woman with crimson red hair, hiding a set of plump lips, peeled back into a smile while her piercing eyes sized me up and down. And then she approached under the gust of bat-like wings, her pointed tail swaying lazily behind her until she stopped close enough for her ram-like horns to nearly brush against me as she unnervingly took a whiff of me.


    ¡°Mhmm.¡± She tantalizingly licked her lips. ¡°Fancy being called by a God!¡±


    ¡°Fancy a gray dwarf king holding the true name of a succubus.¡± I heartily snorted.


    ¡°Oh! King Maso?¡± She bounced forward. Then reclined back suddenly with airy eyes. ¡°Yeah. He was a good one to keep alive. Loved pain.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I smiled at my shadow and the bashful response of the gray dwarf king hiding within.


    ¡°What about you, though?¡± Lily brushed against me entirely and started not-so-subtly shifting her weight between her feet. ¡°Up for a little fun? Or would you let a gal like me tag along on your little adventure? I¡¯d love to say I¡¯ve been with the Rogue God of Devils. Everyone¡¯s been talkin¡¯ about you.¡±


    ¡°Maybe later.¡± I brushed away her whispers immediately. Though I had full intentions to let her tag along. Not as a part of my squad, of course, but somewhere within my Legion. After all, succubi had ways of gathering information like no one else.


    That said, she was annoying as fuck.


    ¡°Well?¡± She brushed against me a second time.


    ¡°Sure.¡± I groaned. ¡°You can tag along."


    ¡°Sweet!¡± She beamed in place, only to instantly sober up and look around to see the dome of thorns. ¡°So, we¡¯re in Paradise? Where?¡±


    ¡°Nonus. The southern half of the Bodhi Peninsula, on the northern coast.¡± I explained while leading her to the beach and then faced about. ¡°The land continues for some fifteen thousand kilometers to the south and is ruled by twelve kingdoms. Approximately seventy-seven million souls call this place home. And for the next year, it¡¯s our playground.¡±


    The prospect made her fly a loop overhead, screaming ¡°Lucky me!¡±


    ¡°Yes. Lucky you.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Now sit here with me. Are you hungry?¡±


    ¡°Ooh, a romantic?¡± She plopped down with a giggle.


    I rolled my eyes again. ¡°Hardly. I¡¯m hungry, and we¡¯re waiting for someone to arrive.¡±


    ¡°Who-¡±


    I sensed it long before she spun to the west. But, considering it hardly a threat, I let it pass until the human pushed through the brush and immediately threw his fishing pole onto the ground.


    ¡°Ah! Fiends!¡± He shouted. And I just couldn¡¯t help myself.


    ¡°Ah! Human!¡± I cried as I spun about to eye a not-so-harmless young man with feigned fear.


    He brandished a short sword and waved it threateningly between us, shouting. ¡°Stay back!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid.¡± I snorted. ¡°I haven¡¯t even moved.¡±


    ¡°No, no.¡± Lily waved to me. ¡°I''ve got this.¡±


    Shrugging, I turned away to watch the coast as the sun, to my back, dipped to its nightly hiding place. The newfound silence was like rewatching a show as an adult that you¡¯ve seen as a child, making me dread her inevitable return and be thankful that her action served to make her less¡­ excitable.


    ¡°Is he dead?¡± I asked over my shoulder.


    ¡°No.¡± I heard her shrug. ¡°But he will be soon. Poor guy. Didn¡¯t even last long.¡±


    ¡°Nice.¡±


    I rose without another word. And when I returned, I had a fresh shadow undead soldier trailing behind me.


    ¡°Liam Stone works for you now,¡± I said to them both, then turned a cold gaze to the succubus. ¡°And you, Lily, work for me.¡±


    She eagerly and somewhat lethargically nodded her compliance.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you about your job later. For now, just¡­ enjoy the sights I guess.¡±


    Again, she nodded her compliance. But my attention was on the two pinpoints of light in the sky. One, a streak of silver, and the other, a pulsing bowl of mana.


    Watching Hogaz and his quartermaster fly into shore was one of the few moments I found myself bursting with pride. And from what I could see, they were as well. Even in the gloom of dusk, his moon mail armor sparkled brilliantly beneath his Noctis cloak. In a rare instance, Hogaz removed his palm from its comfortable position on the hilt of his weapon, the Wave Razer, to greet me in typical Noctis fashion- leading to a moment of confusion between Lily and the quartermaster.


    ¡°Another cutie.¡± The former giggled.


    I turned to glare at her immediately. ¡°I will fucking void you if you suck a drop from my subordinates.¡±


    She took the warning almost in a panic, flapping her wings to push her several meters away and in turn, giving me and the pirates a bit of privacy.


    ¡°Vexx. Captain¡­ Silvertusk.¡± I fought back a laugh while nodding to them both. ¡°How do you fancy the ship?¡±


    Hogaz gave her a subtle nod, then she stepped forward with an expression full of enough zeal to scare even me. ¡°With confidence, I can say I speak for the entirety of the crew when I tell you the ship is beyond belief or comparison. Even the dwarves are impressed with the hardiness of its construction. I am surely impressed with its elegance. Its speed. Its power! I daresay, we are invincible on these waters.¡±


    ¡°Not so.¡± I flatly said. Then recanted with a shrug a few seconds later. ¡°Well, the ship is. But with its current crew, it is not. As such, Captain, I¡¯m giving you and your crew between six months and one year to train.¡± I paused for consideration, then gestured to the copper-skinned half-elf before I continued. ¡°Obviously, you have a say in this as well.¡±


    Being a seasoned pirate- and a classmate of my dad, apparently- Vexx didn¡¯t hesitate to address our concerns. ¡°I share the same thought. However, the other pirates in these waters will seek us out once they learn of our abandoned island. They may be intimidated by our ship, and rightly so, but some foolhardy pirates will fire upon us without thinking. I¡¯m afraid we have neither the time nor real estate to train.¡±


    I left it to her Commander to explain.


    ¡°We work for the Eternal God, Vex. Time is meaningless to the Legions.¡±


    ¡°What he means to say is, you¡¯ll be training in a realm of distorted time. Whether it''s six months or one year you spend inside, only one day will have passed when you emerge. You will then take your leave to enjoy Sinestro¡¯s concert before setting off on your journey around the peninsula.¡±


    ¡°H- how?¡± Lily and Vexx both stammered.


    ¡°Whatever you decide, training begins upon your return to the ship,¡± I said to Hogaz before turning to the still wide-mouthed Lily. ¡°And after the concert, you''ll remain in Chor to open a brothel.


    ¡°Now, let¡¯s go.¡± I turned, spawning a small globule of purple energy above us all, plucking us from the ground simultaneously. ¡°It''s almost time for Gloom to fall.¡±

 242 - The Exalted Gloom

    Never would I have thought it would be so easy to transport so many people across such a vast distance at once. Then again, the power of godhood was... incredible. I could see through the eyes of my followers in more than just the literal sense. And one more so than anyone else in all the Legions. A fact that would make my plans proceed flawlessly. For the most part.


    The founders of my guild- the Primes were sent far and wide across the peninsula- and not by themselves. For the most part. The largest group saw over fifteen hundred souls and three undead transported to a single location. The land of Rauven in the Rhar Kingdom. Specifically, at the junction where Salisterley Creek broke off from the Towceshambe River, which themselves sat between the slum town of Gribredth, to the west, and the bustling wood-elven city of Cryshandohl.


    Though there was an endless supply of towering evergreens around us, the vampires weren''t as comfortable with traversing a rope bridge over a running stream as their followers so hoped. Instead, they spent days riding- caravaning just over a hundred fifty kilometers to the northwest at a crawl. At least until the forest cleared out to a frost-encrusted grassland that dominated the two hundred kilometers to the mountain''s base. It was there that they met the river''s mouth- a goblin-sized hole in the stone, gushing water out by the ton- and sidestepped it. Turning due west to the place my silver eye guided them to. Our current destination.


    112 kilometers. That was what it took to put the tundra behind them. Another 80 so put them at our destination. Even with untiring feet, they gave thanks to see the journey''s end. Or, at least one of them saw their journey''s end. The other two would disperse in opposing directions. Zakira and the hundreds of acolytes to her Order of Worlds would climb nearly three kilometers of mountain passes in order to build Mani''s temple, my first on the Mortal Plane. An arduous journey compared to the uncountable tons of rock that stood between the surface and the site of Opal''s Nest of the Black Plume in the deepest depths of the Darkworld.


    Meanwhile, Elijah would remain on the surface; at the place I held my gaze upon. The origin of Gloom''s rise; preceded by the birth of something more... obscure.


    Through the dissimilar traces of twilight within them, I felt the anxiousness of Opal''s sigh just as much as my thoughts were pulled to Opal''s alongside Elijah''s.


    "Well." She huffed, birthing hints of solemnity in Elijah''s visage. "I suppose this is where we part ways."


    "Not so, Madame." Elijah teased, then moved down the left fork of the tail to find the object of his visions- an obscure cave that widened into a hidden grove large enough to fit a small village.


    It had, at one point in time. Bathed in the golden radiance and long shadows of dusk were the remnants of a small community tucked within and covered by a lip of moss-covered stone. No road or path was visible below the field of flowers and weeds and few buildings remained either. Only a cluster of semi-broken walls survived in the middle of the area- the largest of them being an old chapel or perhaps a castle standing alone at the northern end. A particularly overgrown patch of thickets sat to the west. A former garden perhaps. And off to the east was a fenced-off area that could''ve only been a cemetery, though the stench of death was missing from it entirely.


    Raised by my ancestors, Elijah guessed.


    After that came his presence opening up on the networks. His mind went to work after the initial survey immediately, forming a map of what the place was to be. The former cemetery would dug out to form the barracks. The dilapidated buildings would be reconstructed to be quarters for his subordinates. The overgrown garden would become the Twilight Sanctuary''s access chute. The rugged stone on the northern wall opposing the entrance would become caves and caverns for the sake of the class he was meant to debut.


    The church would become the first surface lair for the Exalted Gloom.


    For my assistance, he gave thanks and then relayed his designs using the same method rather than the default method through the networks. An action that saw Opal approach him with a wide smile. "I''m overjoyed to see your faith is strong."


    "I am a devoted feather of the Plume as well, Madame." He curtly bowed, and she smiled softly as she nodded.


    "Precisely the reasoning for our talk," she said, beckoning Elijah to one of the least broken-down buildings in the grove.


    Of course, he knew the true nature of their ''talk.'' Yet, I could feel his anxiety grow more and more as he followed her instructions to sit. And yet more as he watched her bite the inside of her wrist and dripped her rich, dark blood into a porcelain cup.


    She said nothing as she poured and mixed a crimson liquid with a silvery hue into the mix. Or even as she handed Elijah the cup. She stared, almost somberly, with her crimson orbs until he grasped the warm cup in both hands.


    With a final nod of approval from Madame Opal, she scratched his thumb and withdrew a thin strand of blood that thickened with each passing second, merged with her and Carbury''s blood, and returned to his body through a cut in his opposing thumb.


    The power of the divine was incredible.


    I could feel that blood flowing through Elijah''s body as if it were my own. It was like silken honey from a candy spider, flooding the mouth with a rich sweetness and filling the heart with potent heat that smacked an intangible weight- shackles from the body, replacing it with a surging strength and a bounty of knowledge never thought possible to exist in the mind.


    With that small but not insignificant experience, Elijah no longer saw Opal in a light- nearly the same light in which I saw me. Although there would always be a radiance to her he would recognize.


    "There was no malice in my heart when I killed you. When I turned you," she finally said. "Though it is no excuse, I raised you out of pure necessity. I needed your help to save my dearest friend."


    "I blame you not, Madame." Elijah quickly shook my head. Though, he wasn''t compelled to. "I was the one who attacked you. More so, I would have done the same, were I had one so close to me. Although." He chortled dryly. "I suppose I do now. Many, many of them. And more soon enough. But out of everyone in the Legions; past and future- out of every soul in Eotrom. Minus our God. You, Madame Opal, have my utmost respect."


    "You are free now," She said after a short pause, accepting Elijah''s words with a regal bow. "More so, you are now Elijah of the Blackblood. An honorary Vampyr, with a ''Y'' and no ''E.'' You and one other will be given the power of the Blackblood. All for the glory of the Elven Devil."


    He began to offer his thanks but alas, the wailings of those behind me fell to his ears as a subtle shriek that pierced the night, bringing his eyes to the half-lidded eye of the moon in ways that drowned my senses in the waters of vertigo.


    I used this newfound link to linger in Elijah''s senses long enough to sense him discern two feminine voices coming from the four points of silver above before I returned my scattered consciousness back to my body and bled Hogaz, Vexx, and Lily to a halt above the mountains of Rhar, where many zealous eyes remained on us for several moments.


    Lily aside, Vexx was a half-elf who wore her profession on her sleeve. She wore black, thigh-high boots and tan trousers held up by a pair of belts holding flintlocks and cutlasses alike. A proud, plumed coat was placed upon her shoulders, and a similar hat- of blue and white- was placed atop her curled locks of rusted hair. Vibrant eyes that seemed as blue as the sea peered from behind her matted hair, intently ignoring the bemused gazes in favor of watching me guide everyone out of the grove and spread my temporal domain over the expanse.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "I''m doing this a lot these days." I snorted once the undead got to work with Elijah''s creation. "Not that I''m complaining."


    "So, who''s your friend?"


    I held back an amused snicker at Elijah''s response to Zakira''s accusatory tone after the thought. While he wasn''t the only one, his reaction was the loudest to my ears and was exacerbated by him turning to me and the succubus as we both shrugged. "Lily."


    "Why is she here?" She asked, seemingly annoyed by Lily''s very presence.


    Seemingly.


    "The former King of the Shadeforge had a scroll. It summoned her." I shrugged again. "She''ll be making brothels."


    "Oh? Zakira rolled her eyes mockingly. "Fancy."


    "Yeah." I nodded, motioning to the half-elven pirate. "And this is Captain Vexx. Hogaz''s quartermaster. She knows my dad, apparently."


    "We were classmates." She said. "Us and Stronghull."


    "Quartermaster?" Elijah asked the half-orc, who seemed well better off than he had before.


    "I am to be the Fleet Admiral of the Legions."


    "The naval Fleet Admiral." Elijah corrected him with a sly smile.


    "Until then, she''s Hogaz''s lieutenant. Or she will be after tomorrow." I knowingly laughed, then paused to allow Pora Bora''s daughter and mate to perch on my shoulders. "Anyway." I waved, scattering my thoughts to the auras scattered across the Peninsula. "Let''s issue the recall."


    As was the norm, the Commanders appeared in flashes of silver and golden light, opening the floodgates to praises from the followers of my cloth for giving them a glimpse of my power. Curiously enough, those same whispers came from many of my classmates. They spoke of glimpses. That was all they''d ever seen. Glimpses. Fractions of the seemingly limitless power I contained. It was why so many chose to be in the Plume. It was why Elijah chose his path. To see a glimpse of that power in battle. To see me, a sovereign of death, the Elven Devil, stay true to my titles. And while he was the subject of today, he wasn''t the only one.


    "Do you mind if I indulge your peers a bit?"


    Elijah turned to the winged Dragonborne with surprise shortly after I asked, bringing Urshure into sight just as he responded with a low growl and a subtle nod.


    "Having wings, Urshure is a paragon of his kind," I explained while leading those gathered to the still decrepit but elegant cathedral. "Despite that, he was shunned by his clan and exiled for not just revering dragons but for making a pact with Tiamat. Clan is everything to Dragoneborne, thus it was a severe blow to him. Now, however, he has a new clan. And, a new dragon to revere. And Elijah," I grasped him by the shoulder after halting by the gloomy entrance, "is her envoy to the surface. The Rider- not of her, of her unconceived hatchling.


    "Elijah of the Blackblood is the first Gloom Knight."


    Shockingly or not, there were more cheers of support from the crowd than there were jeers of disbelief. Everyone that I could see was either awed, proud, or anxious to see what came next. Including, of course, Elijah.


    "Before you go in." I turned to him. "I want to make sure this is the path you wish to take."


    He responded with a silent prayer, thanking me for the boundless freedom I granted them, and accompanied the gesture with a stoic nod. Smiling, I stretched his arm to his side, gesturing for him to walk deeper into the Exalted Gloom. "Remember what I taught you."


    He disappeared through the shadows, leaving me to peer through either this three-way link or the shadows to see him disappear with only a few steps inside the suddenly vast place. Through one eye, the doorless entry replaced any ambiance with a haunting darkness that seemed to reach behind him threateningly. Through the other, Vampiric, eye, the room was still bathed in color while the glowing visions of beating hearts and coursing blood floated in the far distance behind him. Through these combined sights, I saw rows upon rows of terraced pews made from blackened wood arranged in an octagonal arrangement around a golden dais- much like the one in my home.


    Before it, on a smaller dais of stone, sat a diminished pile of blackened blood and carrion. Remnants of a feast, Elijah remembered from Amun''s teachings and subsequently began scanning. Even with his vampiric sight, he couldn''t see it, however. But he could see around it. He could feel her. Snaking and climbing and jumping around and between the heaping piles of coin and the gilded terraces and platforms and broken pillars of her new environment. And then, a thunderous roar caused the stone all around him to rumble tremendously.


    "YOU CALL THIS A LAIR!?"


    An intense wave of wicked pressure accompanied the haunting demand, yet Elijah remained undeterred and on his feet, bowing at the waist. "I call this a satellite lair, Exalted One. The first a thousand thrones spread across the Mortal Plane. One of a thousand hoards. One of a thousand lairs for the Exalted Gloom!"


    From the shadows behind Elijah, I withdrew a pile of rotting meat. The surrounding gloom descended on it immediately. Both me and Elijah watched her voraciousness in morbid awe, staring, open-mouthed at the magnificent sight of the rapidly shrinking carrion mountain until, suddenly, the chomping ceased. A deep growl reverberated through the room and soon, a pair of draconic eyes suddenly lifted above the mound.


    Starry orbs of pure malice, they were. The deepest and most cunningly vile embodiment of hatred I''ve ever witnessed. And it bored right into Elijah. Stared at his suddenly fragile being with pure contempt; and roared. "YOU CALL THIS MY ENVOY!?!"


    A great crash of wind signaled the dragon''s ascent to a nearby pillar and Elijah spun to face her, seeing instead a cone of black flames spreading from her jagged maw.


    Remembering again my words, Elijah stood firm with his arms held up, cupping a massive bowl filled with mithral while the waves of black fire dissimilar to the Flames of Moil rolled over him, enveloping him in the comforting gloom of shadow-powered fire. Yet, knowing fully well the nature of her breath, he couldn''t help but feel as if he were walking into the deepest pit of despair and thus called to me for strength, opening up a proverbial window that allowed me to meld with his senses more.


    As he could, I could feel the breath of Shadowfire fall over me in a whirlwind of haunting screams, torrid whispers, and a deathly cold that was like the heat of a campfire and the jovial song of a bard to his once-human body. While I danced to it, he fought against getting lost in that song and thus failed to see the curved talons reaching through the impenetrable night to lance his chest through. The world tipped and he soon found himself clamped between the unyielding stone of the ground and the impenetrable scales of a great claw.


    Wincing only from phantom pain, he peered stoically through the fading darkness to see the mightiest and most graceful creature he and in turn I had ever laid eyes on. Cononthoth, The Exalted Gloom, was larger than an overgrown warhorse, with great wings of billowing darkness and nightly scales that melded into the abyss behind her. Great horns spiraled out the back of her head, swiping threateningly toward the ceiling as she reeled back as if preparing to bite.


    Instead, however, her claws dug deeper into Elijah''s chest and bit further into the stone below him. Then the mountain atop his flesh heaved, sending him hurtling on an intercept course with a blacker-than-black trunk of scales and spines.


    Elijah crossed his arms to block at once. But being in midair, he could only allow her tail to swipe him clear across the room.


    One of the many pillars within the space turned into a vertical cloud of dust and rubble as he passed through it. So too did most of the pews and even the stone wall beyond. But Elijah came up running, spinning to heave a chest thrown to him by me. He was almost done.


    Cononthoth cared not for the chest, however, she came forward in a snaking rush of darkness to attack with claws, tail, and maw alike. And, following my instructions, Elijah used every bit of his newfound Vampyric freedom and the potent unicorn blood within him to dodge and block as best as he could, keeping intense care to show no fear and, more importantly, to never outshine his master.


    The game continued for many moments until, suddenly, Cononthoth reeled back, somehow exuding a look of curiosity more than outrage or even amusement. On that cue, Elijah ripped the top of a cheap rucksack and chucked it near the first chest he threw.


    It sailed true through the air, yet Elijah kept my eyes trained on the gilded irises of the Exalted Gloom while hers remained on him until the moment the chest crashed open, spreading a not-so-paltry sum of onyx, black opals, and other dark gems before her.


    "The Tiny Devil has educated you greatly." An eerily smooth and feminine voice suddenly spread through the darkness, though the dragon''s mouth didn''t move. Only the gloom surrounding her did. It crept and crawled steadily towards Elijah as if it were alive, reaching his feet to then crawl up his knees, thighs, and torso like maddened serpents. "You shall serve nicely as my envoy, young rider."


    The dark tendrils reached his shoulders finally. And from then, turned sour. One became three, then three multiplied into clusters of the snaking forms of darkness that reached for the eyes nose, and mouth, causing the arcane words to coalesce into words shared only between him, his master, and me, the one to which her soul was linked.


    [Prestige Fighter: Exalted Gloom''s Knight. Step 1: Complete.]


    [Evolution: [Draconic Pheromone Gland] - With this gland, you excrete a pheromone that marks you as the first Knight of the Exalted Gloom, acting to attract all draconic creatures outside of the designation {True Dragon} and make them act in a friendly manner towards you.]


    [Mutation: [Draconian Vestige] - This sliver of draconic power serves as your reward for your devotion to the Exalted Gloom. With it, your draconic master may pass knowledge into your mind, and  draconic power into your body and spirit.]


    "Now go, young rider. Hatch your mount." Gloom''s voice echoed in my mind while she erupted in a mighty roar that strode like silk in the night, whispering her presence into the ears of the peninsula herself.

 243 - Chor After Chor

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go.¡±


    Mostly everyone was more than happy to follow me after witnessing the Exalted Gloom in all her glory. Mostly because of the prospects of the night ahead, but also to get far, far away from her. Only those of the Black Plume and the Order stayed, choosing to embark on their journey without the presence of their clerics and priestesses; and only those associated with either pantheon showed any eagerness to see her again, offering wistful looks behind them as we fell at ludicrous speeds over the mountains and across the rolling hills of the Ligin Kingdom, over the dark woods of the Vrurian Empire, and past the walled border of Nevstan to slow above a bustling city of wide avenues and districts of towering buildings and vast courtyards.


    The City of Bards, as it was called, sat inside a roughly diamond-shaped wall centered atop the main road. Yet, its gates were open to any passersby, opening their endless street carts and stalls to the many travelers making their way to Mazi from the port city of Whamebon further up the road to the northeast.


    We came to a landing a few ways away from the city just before dawn. Many of the Commanders ran off to the city at once and I left them to their whims. Except, of course, Hogaz and Captain Vexx, who took to the skies after me.


    Our feet came to a rest on the upper deck of the Moonsliver naught minutes later. Specifically, the second deck of the conning tower, where we promptly entered the officer¡¯s lounge to see their amiable breakfast interrupted by Vexx¡¯s shrill command.


    ¡°ATTENTION ON DECK!¡±


    They shot up at once, flinging scraps of eggs and potatoes and fresh fruits about the table while they flicked their eyes nervously between themselves and us.


    ¡°As you were.¡± I waved midway to my seat and sent some mental commands to the nearby undead to fix me a plate, then turned to them with a gesture to Vexx. ¡°Just listen as you eat.¡±


    ¡°This ship is magnificent, we all agree.¡± Vexx began. ¡°Too magnificent, I daresay. Too complex for us to utilize properly. If we were to use this ship, we would first need to train. And train more in order to understand our roles within this vast organization.¡±


    ¡°Because of that,¡± Hogaz began. ¡°The training will be split into two parts, one year in length each. The first is to learn the inner workings of the ship. And the second will be done later when you will formally be inducted into the Legio Noctis. What the latter will consist of is up to him.¡± He gestured to me. ¡°But the former will consist of us battling against illusions and ships helmed by the undead.¡±


    ¡°Once you graduate from the former, the lot of you will become Captains and you Captains will become Commanders," I said, looking Vexx, Riptide, and the others in the eye before continuing. "Hogaz will then become an Admiral. Once you finish your Legion training in the middle of the year, you will have gained two promotions. Hogaz will then become the Imperator of the Noctis Fleets. You Captains will be Fleet Admirals, and the best of you lot will be their distinguished Commanders, Captains, and Admirals.


    ¡°For now, however, you¡¯ll join us for a night of relaxation in Chor, and then you¡¯ll go on to parley with the other pirate factions around the peninsula. What you do after making contact is up to you, but only after you¡¯ve met the lot of them and recruited many sailors, pirates, and dockworkers along the way will you create your stronghold.¡±


    ¡°All agreed?¡± Vex then turned her eyes over the rest of the nodding crew and then turned back to me expectantly. ¡°When do we begin?¡±


    I met her glistening eyes with a devious smirk before I suffused the entirety of the ship in pale light. ¡°Right now.¡± I Chortled, then full-on laughed once the light faded and they simultaneously turned to the nearest window to gaze upon a curved horizon of choppy waters.


    A solitary island dotted the perpetual of Hogaz¡¯s water world in Eotrom, Oceania. A volcanic isle, it was, with many coves and fjords of varying widths, depths, and altitudes lining the coast. The oceans, deep enough to have a floor comprised of ice VII, were filled with fleets of state-of-the-art cruisers, destroyers, and submarines helmed by undead crews, toiling away to aim the guns and cannons toward the Moonsliver.


    ¡°Have fun.¡± I chuckled. And with a final wave, I Bamfed Hogaz to the outskirts of Chor, leaving his Doppelganger to train with his troops.


    We appeared just within the woodline overlooking the city, far enough so the guards and travelers couldn¡¯t hear Hogaz¡¯s agonized screams or see his eyes glow in a pale light.


    He screamed and writhed for seconds onto minutes after the tattoos, knowledge, and visions burned into his body and mind, then lay in the grass for minutes more, staring absently to the skies until I gave him a swift kick to the ankle.


    ¡°Stop daydreaming!¡±


    He shook himself awake and shot to his feet at once, dumbfounded by the sudden realization that he regularly lost time and was mentally broken by the immense deposit of naval and maritime knowledge he just received.


    Giving him time to peruse his thoughts, I guided him away from the southern gate and several armored guards conversing or waving to those who approached and passed.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± He eventually asked as we approached the northern wall.


    ¡°Posh cities with no apparent slums always have a darker side,¡± I smirked. ¡°Not just a criminal underworld or black market, but beggars and the homeless kept away from the main avenues. In this case.¡± I turned towards a small annex raised between the east-heading road and the city wall. ¡°They have a segregated gate for them.¡±


    ¡°Welcome to Chor, City of Bards!¡± a halfling kid, maybe a few years younger than myself but half as tall, bounded up to us within moments. Dressed in rags, with tan skin, green eyes, and a ponytail of brown hair, she acted dissimilar to her appearance by leaps and bounds. Almost as if she was unaware of the small reaper clawing away at her feet. ¡°Care for a joke?¡± She skipped around us, thumbing a lute as she did so.


    ¡°Or.¡± She stopped suddenly to lean forward on one leg. ¡°I can show you inside for a small fee.¡±


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Sure.¡± I flicked her a gold coin with a careless shrug. ¡°The rest comes later.¡±


    She tried hard not to beam wide after catching it, succeeding only when she read the words minted into its surface.


    ¡°Eotrom?¡± She muttered, glancing me up and down for a few moments before taking a hard, incredulous look at Hogaz. Then, with a shrug, she led us through a crawlspace.


    Hogaz seemed surprised at me entering it willingly and seemed embarrassed at doing it himself, looking around this way and that once he came to his feet on the other side.


    ¡°Welcome to the Shadowed Gate!¡± The kid said, gesturing to the many dirty alleys and small courts filled with people of all ages having jam sessions. ¡°This is where all great bards of Chor come from, whether they like it or not. The famous Glazar Strip is just ahead. It runs north from Smith Gate to the Central Square. If you¡¯re here for the concert or just want some food, that¡¯s the place to go.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m looking for an auction. Or otherwise, somewhere I can buy something¡­ interesting. Who knows.¡± I smirked. ¡°I may buy you something as well.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to it!¡± she winked, then followed us down several aisles, stopping at a seemingly closed storefront to knock twice, then once.


    An old man opened and frowned immediately after seeing her, then stopped closing the stall after seeing my raised brows and Hogaz¡¯s curious gaze.


    ¡°Upgraded from shite jokes and window shoppin¡¯ eh, Rick?¡± He chortled and turned back to the halfling, smiling greedily.


    ¡°Yeah, something like that.¡± She said, pausing to cough. ¡°You gonna let us in or what?¡±


    He didn¡¯t answer. Only squinted at Hogaz and I for an awkward moment until I flicked a gold coin his way. Then, he disappeared and opened a side door a moment later. Shouting. ¡°Come right in! We¡¯ve got an excellent selection, mind you. But our prices aren¡¯t cheap!¡±


    ¡°Quality items never are,¡± I assured his doubts with a smile before ducking through a bead curtain.


    ¡°Indeed.¡± He chortled behind me. ¡°And I give you a fair welcome to Buke¡¯s Bizarre Bazaar! One-stop shop for all your exotic needs! Please!¡± He gestured around to what appeared to be a hundred display cases in this room alone. ¡°Peruse our stock. And feel free to ask if there¡¯s any¡­ particular interests you have.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be certain to.¡±


    He shadowed Hogaz, who shadowed me and the kid as I browsed the store- a five-chambered complex carved below the city block above. Four rooms were placed around the central, smallest cube in which we entered. Within it was the general stock. Mostly musical instruments, but also a few decorative weapons or armor sets and a wide range of gems, goblets, baubles, and trinkets for your average horde collector or hasty spender.


    The module directly ahead, labeled ¡®Arcane,¡¯ was a fine selection of enchanted weapons, potions, scrolls, and other items that I took the time to appraise, gaining insight for enchantments to make in a few short weeks until the merchant grew visibly frustrated. ¡°I¡¯m interested in the finest burnbud, tobacco, and drugs you have; as well as seeds of every type of crop.¡± I turned to him before he could voice his concerns. ¡°In bulk.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± He recoiled in place before turning on his heels. ¡°Right this way.¡±


    I followed him to the adjacent module, labeled ¡®Apothecary,¡¯ to first peruse and sample a wide variety of blends and strains before buying several few kilos of everything sampled. Then, I went on to pick out as many potion ingredients as I could while Buke gathered an impressive stock of seeds for agricultural and industrial crops.


    ¡°I must say.¡± He gestured to my pipe after penciling in the numbers. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen one sample so my strains with naught a cough! I daresay, it must be the result of that fine piece in your grasp. May I ask where you procured it?¡±


    ¡°I made it,¡± I casually said, focusing instead on the ghostly assistant packaging my wares into neat bundles.


    ¡°A fine make.¡± The girl suddenly said. ¡°What¡¯s it made from, unicorn horn?¡±


    The merchant rolled his eyes at her hushed giggles. ¡°A terrible joke, as always, Rickley.¡±


    ¡°Practice makes perfect.¡± She sneered.


    ¡°A comedian?¡± I turned to her.


    ¡°A struggling one.¡± The merchant muttered.


    ¡°In practice!¡± she sternly corrected, then placed her small hands on her proud hips to shout. ¡°Rickley Ravenbrook, at your service!"


    ¡°Quite the interesting name.¡± I smiled. ¡°Well met. I am Amun.¡±


    The merchant dropped his smile immediately. ¡°From the Bodhi Tree? Yes.¡± He quickly answered himself before turning to my companion. ¡°Yes. And you¡¯re¡­ Hogaz! I thought you both looked familiar!¡±


    ¡°You know of us?¡± the half-orc asked.


    ¡°Everyone in the peninsula does,¡± Rickley said. ¡°And probably Polaris too. The mid-year events are shown to every major city in the Peninsula. And everyone beyond hears the tales about it if they didn''t see it as well. I''d be more surprised if people didn''t know about you.¡±


    ¡°But we didn¡¯t get to see your event,¡± Buke said to me. ¡°How strange.¡±


    ¡°Very.¡± I absently nodded.


    ¡°Incredibly.¡± He nodded back and squinted harder. ¡°More so, when considering the dark tree that appeared when your encounter was to take place.¡±


    ¡°Inconceivably mysterious indeed.¡± I smiled. ¡°Perhaps I¡¯ll tell you if the conditions are right. That aside, I¡¯ll certainly pay a premium price in exchange for exotic and rare creatures.¡±


    His eyes widened twice their size. ¡°Oh! Right this way!¡± Again, he led me across the complex, where the two remaining modules were connected to make a large superstructure. An acrid smell and the perpetual noise of many creatures barraged my senses the moment we stepped inside, held back by some magical barrier in the doorframe. ¡°We have an array of exotic pets and beasts of burden in our stock. Many of them require someone of high animal handling skill, mind you, but I¡¯m sure a man of your talents can manage.¡±


    ¡°Your reputation precedes you.¡± Hogaz chuckled in disbelief.


    ¡°It precedes you both,¡± Buke assured him. Then turned to lead me to a large curtained cell that leaked an all-too familiar smell. ¡°Here, we have the most demanding of such creatures-¡±


    ¡°A browl,¡± I growled before he could even approach the curtain. ¡°If I lay eyes on that abomination it will be destroyed.¡±


    ¡°Say no more! Say no more!¡± He hurriedly backpedaled. ¡°We have other creatures! Riding beasts! Horses and lizards, both fast and strong. Magnificent felines. Powerful canines. Ferocious reptiles and-¡±


    ¡°Anything that can fly?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± His hands curled inwards to his chest. ¡°We do have in our possession, a griffon egg. ¡°


    My eyebrows raised immediately.


    ¡°But!¡± he quickly flashed his palms. ¡°It was procured by our allies in the Ligin Kingdom. This one was for a contact in Vruria, who claims it will help stave threats from the Mazi Council. It is one of many spread throughout the land, kept in secret before they are hatched.


    ¡°Not so much of a secret anymore.¡± Hogaz chortled under his breath.


    ¡°However.¡± He let the word trail on. ¡°Such fragile things are commonly damaged during incubation. I¡¯m sure it would be of no surprise if this egg was found to be¡­ inert, come hatching time.¡±


    ¡°One million gold.¡± I casually and quickly offered. ¡°Including any related tomes or instructions on rearing them that you may or may not have.¡±


    Of course, Mani could see and learn from the griffin riders of Ligin from its position above, but there was always the risk of them doing something wrong or failing to do something entirely. Human- or rather, humanoid error still existed. And every bit of knowledge counted for something.


    ¡°Of course.¡± He bowed, trying hard to hide his budding excitement while he sent an unseen assistant to prepare the item. ¡°Anything else?¡± he greedily asked.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I gestured to the halfling. ¡°Whatever Rickley wants.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to say it.¡± The merchant happily smiled.


    After his assistant returned with a pair of magical drums, I paid the man and walked Rickley to her shoddy accommodations and gave her a gold bar for her help, then emerged on the Strip moments later with my wares stowed safely away in a temporal dimension.


    ¡°Do you always just¡­ throw gold at people?¡± Hogaz asked with a flair of his hand. "A thousand gold for walking you around the city?"


    "What else am I supposed to do with it?¡± I snorted. ¡°Now let¡¯s go. We¡¯ve got a concert to catch.¡±

 244 - Dead Love

    Sinestro.


    ***


    I expected some of them to be present. But nearly every student of the Bodhi Tree was here, in the Purple Leopard.


    The ones who cared not for society had left to wherever they came from- the kobold and lizardfolk. Lance Morningstar returned to Polaris. Zeke Silva left for Maru.


    A pity, for all of them.


    But, truth be told, they weren¡¯t in the limelight.


    No one was when the Nox was around.


    Not even Sinestro¡¯s Quartet.


    It was my hope that after this concert, our name would become Sinestro¡¯s Quintet, or if my ambitions were higher, Sinestro¡¯s Sextet. But who would join us, when a famed child of the Nox was present, I both rhetorically ask the reader of this journal and answer within its pages.


    No one.


    Some of those devils were praised as the greats of their times for their accomplishments across the realms, both explored and not. Others were infamous- feared as plague-spreading tyrants.


    Rightfully so, in either case.


    No matter if they were great or horrific, every member of the Nox Clan- the House of Cole- deserved every bit of their fame and infamy and then some.


    Cole Nox was infamous for forming Crater Lake, wreaking so much havoc on this side of the peninsula that it was reduced in altitude to near-sea level. That was after he mortally wounded, then cursed the Headmaster.


    Not a graduate of the Bodhi Tree, Betelle Cole traveled here nonetheless to spread her merchant guild to Nonus. Being 39th in the Optimus Regni to date, it went without saying that Betelle Mercantile prospered to this day, with members operating in Maru, Nonus, and perhaps beyond.


    Of course, none but those with the most obscure connections knew such things. Indeed, I doubted even Corvus Cole knew of her great-great grandmother''s exploits. The Raven Reaper was another tyrant. A necrotic druid who protected nature as fiercely as she sought those who cheated death.


    Those like the headmaster.


    But cursing Zorrenor Knagh wasn¡¯t enough. The Raven Reaper went on to spread blights wherever she went. And her marks on the land remained for centuries after her departure.


    Her son was no different- another Cole who didn¡¯t attend the Bodhi Tree, but whose life of piracy brought him to these very waters. And every stretch of water in the World Sea, some claimed, for the entirety of the ocean deep was the domain of Captain Henry ''Darkblood'' Cole.


    And then there was the infamous Necro King. Razer of nations in more ways than one. King in more ways than one. An emperor who left a scar of death on the Mortal Plane. Then absolved his sins by blessing us Nonusian peasants with the elven gifts of yore.


    Azrael Cole was another tyrant. A plague that spread his dark beasts across the Peninsula. Yet, his son remained in obscurity. Hidden in the shadows, where he stayed in a good light amongst all who knew him.


    Including me.


    Perhaps that was why I was shocked once I learned that the humble Emeric Cole sired a child with a drow- one of the fiercely cold and incredibly dangerous dark elves. Perhaps that was why I was horrified upon seeing the Elven Devil in the grandiose halls of the Purple Leopard, dressed in the very robes described to be worn by the Mad Void Monk.


    They were here with him- if not for him, I realized. The students and hundreds more readily surged toward the entrance to greet him- him and the half-orc he arrived with, giving a few bystanders enough courage to wave from a distance or outright approach him, despite them seeing the horrors he invoked just six months prior.


    ¡°Get on his good side so he doesn¡¯t ruin the realm, huh?¡± I chortled weakly. Regretfully, it came out weaker than expected. Never, in all my years of performance, have I ever seen the Purple Leopard filled to maximum capacity. Beyond, even. Packed with dwarves, orcs, goblins, and¡­ pirates.


    I saw the half-drow exchange words with a beautiful half-elf woman and chortled dryly. ¡°Even the infamous Captain Vexx is here.¡±


    ¡°Maybe he¡¯s just a nice guy.¡± Morkai shrugged, nearly impaling his shoulders on his horns in the process. ¡°Everyone seems to like him.¡±


    ¡°You say that only because of your blood.¡± I huffed knowingly. ¡°You saw how he treated the Emperor. And Titus.¡±


    ¡°Both individuals just named are assholes though.¡± Radis countered with a sort of condescending kindness that only an elf could produce. ¡° I saw your smile, Sin. It was coming to them.¡±


    ¡°And now, Titus has gone off the deep end.¡± Robin sighed heavily. ¡°You think he can take him?¡±


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    She caught herself immediately and started to look around for any eavesdroppers.


    ¡°Lucky you we¡¯re not in the empire," I warned her sternly. ¡°Now, let¡¯s start the show.¡±


    A nod sent the host into a tirade, capturing the audience''s attention within seconds and building the hype, only to lose it with the final words. ¡°Starting with. Rickley Ravenbrook.¡±


    A roar of exacerbation erupted in the halls as she took the stage with the confidence of the greatest bards. Though, she at least looked the part, somehow coming to acquire some stylish attire from somewhere.


    Or someone, most likely.


    ¡°I knew a guy who could talk to plants once.¡± She began, spreading a tentative silence through the crowd. ¡°He told me of a time when he befriended a grape that had a liking for pain. A masochist, the grape called itself. He said it asked him to step on it. And he did. Readily. Expecting a dying groan or, I daresay a pleasurable moan beneath his boot. But all he was given for his efforts was a little whine.¡±


    Predictably, a roar of groans, jeers, and curses descended on her from all angles.


    Unpredictably, though, a mad cackling laugh persisted long after she left the stage.


    I needn¡¯t even look to see that the sole pair of lungs heaving in raucous laughter belonged to Amun of the Nox. Even at the Bodhi Tree, he was perpetually higher than the Second Sun he raised above the land. And so, he was said to be affable, magnanimous, and facetious unless provoked. Thus it was almost no surprise that he found Rickley¡¯s terrible puns humorous- though the halfling in his company held a noticeable glare at Rickley as she took a seat not too far from them.


    ¡°On the bright side, with a soured mood, I¡¯ll appreciate good music all the more.¡± I sighed, attempting to turn my thoughts away from the implications of their camaraderie.


    The performances continued with no noteworthy performances, save the halfling and a human from the Bodhi Tree who, together, preluded their performance with an ear-catching and humorous description of the newest guild to be found in these lands. The Legio Noctis, commanded by the infamous Elven Devil himself. Now open for recruiting.


    Then came their performance. A simple act wherein the human male, Willard Rowe, stroked an odd harpsichord whilst the halfling, Ritrix Mildbluff, told a grimly humorous tale of an angry gray dwarf collapsing a tunnel onto himself.


    ¡°They¡¯re good.¡± Morkai grinned. But I had little mirth.


    ¡°And taken, sadly,¡± I remarked. ¡°Which means we have competition. So, let¡¯s give them a proper show, shall we?¡±


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    ¡°Man, I fell flat again. I¡¯m a total failure.¡±


    After almost an hour and a half of performances, including an enchantingly soothing set from Sinestro¡¯s Quartet that made the perfect environment for dinner, those were the first words said by the likes of Rickley Ravenbrook.


    Even after I treated her to the best meal of her life.


    There was sorrow in her words, I could hear, simple and short though they were. Such sorrow, signifying a recognition of the truth she shut her eyes away from for years. And therein lied beauty.


    ¡°There is no such thing.¡±


    Pale-faced, she jumped in place as if she was as unknowing of my presence as the Shadow of Death at her feet.


    "Failure, I mean.¡± I quickly raised my palm in a calming gesture. ¡°There is no such thing. There are only lessons. Even in victory, there are lessons. But more so in defeat. The lessons of life never cease. Not even when we take our last breath.


    ¡°Take heart to these lessons, Rickley Ravenbrook. Never turn a blind eye to them. Learn from them. That is how one becomes wise.¡±


    ¡°Lessons.¡± She tutted. ¡°How about advice?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid to try a different style.¡± I smiled. ¡°And don¡¯t be afraid to keep trying until you find what works best for you. Everyone has their niche.¡±


    A stubborn grumble was her only response. But that was preferable.


    ¡°Welp. I have school tomorrow. I¡¯ll see you later. Good luck!¡± In a flash of light that probably blinded the Purple Leopard, me and mine returned to Eotrom to promptly scatter in preparation for the after-party.


    The Commanders- some with their subordinates in tow, made pit stops to their worlds before they made their way to mine. But I was heading to the Jovian-sized world of violent tempests and floating islands with my knight in tow.


    We landed on the largest of those islands. Toril¡¯s home. A cabin of wood and stone floating within the eye of the storm, surrounded by an electrically charged mist and a whirlwind of metallic boulders.


    ¡°I was surprised to see you take blessings from all my domains,¡± I said after a few moments of admiration. ¡°Though, I should have expected nothing less from my knight.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s as you say.¡± Toril planted himself atop a stump and chortled. ¡°I am your knight, who wields the Storm Thief. Have been since a child. Now, I am your paladin. The wielder of the Storm Thief still, oathed to the Undying Tempest.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s as you say!¡± I laughed boisterously. ¡°You are my paladin. Thus you are deserving of a companion that befits your station. One that can keep up with you in both strength and speed.¡± Saying nothing more, I spawned the egg and held it out in both hands. An arduous task, as the thing was as large as a grown corgi.


    ¡°Twilight claims both owls and felines. Now,¡± I snorted, shaking my head. ¡°I¡¯d normally have reservations about mixing owls with anything else. But for you, Toril, an exception will be made. The common eagle¡¯s head and lion¡¯s body isn¡¯t the only configuration griffons claim.¡± I attempted to hide my smile at his widening eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve learned that griffons with the head of an owl exist. And it¡¯s my hope that this war griffon becomes much the same. Only, imbued with the power of the undying tempest. A Tempest Griffon."


    With the egg floating between us, I held out my hand beneath it, palm up, and instructed him to hold his hand above mine.


    Mostly raw divine energy was added to my arcane electromagnetism and mixed with a bit of twilight before it swirled with Toril¡¯s potent lightning, gas, weight, and combustion magics.


    ¡°Are you sure this will work?¡± He tentatively asked, despite the energy flowing smoothly into the shell.


    ¡°I have faith,¡± I said. ¡°And should it not, I¡¯m sure I can get another one.¡±


    A nod was his only response. With that, he remained silent and intently watched the egg shift from an off-white color to a cobalt-blue hue. Then he lifted his similarly colored eyes to me.


    ¡°You¡¯ll return to see it hatch. Otherwise, your Doppelganger will be staying here to raise it until it matures. Once you take your oath at the third step of your path, you¡¯ll learn the ritual to summon a divine familiar. When you do that, this griffon will appear on the Mortal Plane and your bond will be made whole. You will then be able to summon it as you please. And should it die, it will return here.¡±


    Upon Toril¡¯s affirmatory nod, he handed the egg of too his clone, then I Bamfed us to my world to be immediately taken aback by the most alluring voice rippling from the stage.


    I followed the words of a song I knew not towards the source and found myself half-surprised to see Zakira bathed in a violet light that accented her features divinely. Despite my immunity to being charmed, I became enamored with her... everything. I found myself staring like a dumb high schooler. Infatuated by her appearance and our memories of the past year together.


    Unlike a dumb high schooler, I soon found myself leading her by the hand to the deeper parts of Mani.


    Into my domain. Our home.

 245 - First of the Year.

    Amun.


    1st of Ianua, 1492.


    ***


    I watched the last bits of ink flow onto the last pieces of paper and with a little gust of wind, the intangible sealed itself into reality. Off into the neat stacks of tomes it went before I turned to the pale face nestled between my shoulder and the pillows. ¡°It¡¯s time to get up.¡±


    ¡°Five more minutes.¡± Came a dramatic groan.


    ¡°Right.¡± I snorted. ¡°You¡¯re not even sleeping.¡±


    ¡°Mmm.¡± She groaned. ¡°Five more minutes.¡±


    ¡®Ah well.¡¯ I shrugged, holding her tight before attempting some conversation. ¡°So, can you really not eat? I¡¯d like some breakfast.¡±


    ¡°I can eat bloody meat. Or food from home.¡± She muttered. ¡°Other food just sits in my stomach and I get bloated.¡±


    ¡°Would you be opposed to some raw steak?¡±


    Her head shook in my chest.


    ¡°Great!¡± I shot up. ¡°It¡¯s on the way.¡±


    Kira let out a groan once I got up and started getting dressed and spoke only when I gripped a feathered cloak and gave it a swift shake.


    ¡°Oh, wow.¡± She cooed in response to my lab coat, black with gold trim and a feathered collar. ¡°So sophisticated.¡±


    ¡°You know it,¡± I smirked. And smirked wider once she got up and donned some light blue pants and a silver-hued tunic.


    ¡°I imagine we won¡¯t be able to spend much time together for quite a while,¡± I said halfway through the meal. ¡°The middle of the year, most likely. But not for long.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s earlier than I thought.¡± She plainly stated as she began to take a bite of her steak. Then noticed me staring deep into her crimson orbs. Then she stopped. Stared back long enough for bloody streaks to run down her chin.


    ¡°After this year, though.¡± I finally said, smiling. ¡°That¡¯s when the fun begins.¡±


    She paused to bite the remainder of her steak from her fork and wiped the blood from her mouth. Then looked at me with a million emotions burning in her eyes. Determination. Hope. Eagerness. As well as their opposites. And more. ¡°Sounds like you¡¯ll be as busy as the rest of us.


    ¡°Busier.¡± She added after a sip of blood wine.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I sighed. ¡°I have a lot planned. For both here and back home.¡±


    ¡°Well then.¡± She stood, the fire still burning in her eyes but a childish smile spread across her face that mimicked mine. ¡°I suppose we should get to it.¡±


    ¡°I suppose so.¡±


    With the last few bites wolfed down and the dishes Bamfed to the kitchen, we floated gently up through the floors of my world, stopping midway to hand over a chest of gold to Lily, with instructions to procure some land and staff to start franchising in the Peninsula below.


    ¡°I hate succubi.¡± Zakira rolled her eyes after we left. ¡°Incubi too!¡± She shouted over her shoulder. ¡°Always charming people and shit. They can¡¯t do anything without it.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t disagree, and yet, I didn¡¯t have to agree either, for we came upon the transfer station in the next moment, pulling Zakira¡¯s attention to Nyella and the rest of their gathered members while my attention scanned over the Legionary Captains and their subordinates.


    ¡°Good morning, everyone.¡± I nodded to them. ¡°A few things before we depart.¡±


    I waited for their praise or conversations to die as I began pacing. Then took another moment to look upon the gathered crowd.


    Eotrom was vast, but its population was tiny. Only holding the roughly three thousand souls freed from the Darkworld and their descendants.


    2,127 of them were split between Opal and Zakira. And yet, nearly each Captain had gathered at least 15 individuals- a squad¡¯s worth- from around Bithisarea. Though still, there were a few anomalies. The only one left without a crew was Urshure, but his crew wasn¡¯t going to be beings of this plane anyway.


    ¡°Well.¡± I chortled. ¡°I supposed this means you¡¯ve all completed your orders. Good work. You have your parties; your staff officers. As such, you are all hereby promoted to the rank of L-6. Battalion Commanders. Your pay will increase to a thousand gold per week.¡±


    There were a few whoops and celebratory remarks from that, but the silence soon returned.


    ¡°Your new orders are to have your subordinates fill out their ranks while you move further down your paths.¡± I continued. ¡°The deadline is the middle of the year when the first-year students have their matches. By then, our training regiment will be established and you will enter it along with them. Whoever holds a sizable, trained force, a supporting industry, a civilian populous, and a culture will be named as one of the eleven Imperators. Everyone else will become a General of a corps within one of those legions.


    ¡°The next training period will be at the end of the third quarter. Those who train at that time will be commissioned as low-ranking officers. Those who train at the end of the year will enter the Legions as non-commissioned officers. With that.¡± I paused, turned, and looked into as many eyes as I could. ¡°I should tell you that the pay for Imperators is two thousand gold per week. In addition to a number of benefits and boons.


    ¡°Now then.¡± I reached out and took back the undead shadows I gave to them, but not the ones their doppelgangers fell and had raised. In turn, I distributed the tomes and career paths I updated for them. ¡°Second item. Death and Undead. You''ll be receiving perks and items that will allow you to take the strength or constitution from your opponent as a trophy. Adding it to your own. Through this, you can obtain super-powered levels of strength and constitution as recognized by the Guild Association. If your morals do not allow for such things, you should know that the martial classes can receive boosts to their physical attributes by training them harshly between certain levels. These tomes will detail how you can efficiently train those attributes and they describe the effects of obtaining such levels of dexterity, agility, strength, or constitution.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fuckin¡¯ dumb!¡± Ed pouted in a way that was decidedly more dwarvish than normal. ¡°Now, I gotta take a fighter class.¡±


    ¡°There are some unique ones available to you, among others,¡± I noted as he began flipping through his book. ¡°You¡¯ll find more about that as well in your tomes. But aside from that, I require you all to raise two undead. One, to be killed by your doppelganger and raised as a shadow if it hasn¡¯t happened already. The other should be killed by your magic if you have any, or otherwise your class abilities. They¡¯ll become unique types of undead. And will eventually become what Zaraxus is to me. Only¡­ better.¡±


    ¡°Do we have to?¡± Scarlett groaned.


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    ¡°If you want to command a Legion.¡± I nodded. ¡°But even if you don¡¯t, you¡¯ll have something similar working with you.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± She slumped.


    ¡°It won¡¯t be that bad, I promise,¡± I reassured her with a playful laugh. ¡°They¡¯ll be holy undead.¡±


    ¡°O- oh!¡± Her eyes went wide. ¡°Uhm. O-okay then. What else?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± I cheekily smiled. ¡°Remember to use your doppelgangers to look over any civilians you have under your wing. Or to accomplish any other task if you¡¯re too busy training. And most importantly, have fun.¡±


    With departing nods, smiles, and a peck on the lips from Zakira, the Commanders and their staff stepped into the gilded shadows or glistening silver archways and emerged in various places across the Bodhi Peninsula, so far below. Leaving me, two humans, and several massive animals standing at the edge of the transfer station, looking down at the magnificent plane beyond.


    I wasn¡¯t surprised to see them here. However, I was surprised to see the divine beasts huddled so close to them.


    Skoll and Hati clung to me always. Though they denied being touched by moonlight or twilight, the energies of the realm flowed into them still. Albeit far less than the other creatures. Their offspring, Lycaon and Lupa, were born as colossal, divine direwolves and inherited the Silverstream Forest¡¯s surrounding areas. In turn, their offspring began following Doyle wherever he went. Indeed, they even went to live on his moon, in orbit of my world. Fenrir and Garmr were their names. Of a white and blue and black and gold hide like their progenitors.


    Conversely, many of Pora Bora¡¯s owlets and some of Karu¡¯s chicks evolved into divine owls and aves of twilight: Dusk Owls and Nebulous Aves, they were, and again the other way around. Once Olga weaved her world and put it in an orbit along the terminator of my home, the soundless raptors and flightless birds could be heard competing with the calls ringing from Opal¡¯s world across the void.


    More than that, however, being exalted citizens, my former teachers learned the truth of my past.


    Naturally, they had many questions.


    ¡°So, no magic?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I shook my head. ¡°And no dragons. No elves. No orcs. No dwarves. Halflings. Gnomes. Dragonborne. Goliaths. Beast-kin. Striflings. No giants. No goblins. No divine beasts, mythical creatures, or fantastical animals. No demons and no devils. No gods. Only Homo Sapiens Sapiens. Humans and our abstract beliefs, our technology, and our endless justifications for hate.¡±


    ¡°That¡­ must have been horrible.¡± Olga lamented.


    ¡°H- how¡­ did... you die?¡± Doyle asked.


    I paused, if only for a split second to find the right words, then turned to meet his silver eyes. ¡°Assisted suicide,¡± I said dryly.


    His head hung. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°It must have been hard.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± I shrugged. ¡°But it was that hardship that made me into who I am today. Or rather, it made me into who I was when I was born into this fantastical universe. Those experiences, plus the life I have lived thus far, made me who I am today.¡±


    ¡°And what is that, if I may ask?¡± Olga leaned forward.


    ¡°A selfish explorer who loves to learn and make things. And sometimes fight.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°And Telin gave you just that.¡± Olga chuckled dryly. ¡°The entire Mortal Plane is your playground. At least, that¡¯s how I see it.¡±


    ¡®Yeah. Just like the Milky Way to the Starfarer.¡¯ I silently lamented During that silence, though, I looked out on the lands. And through Mani¡¯s eye, I saw the Commanders- those I gave the power to be players in this virtually endless ground- going about their tasks diligently.


    Through those silver streams of light, I could look down to Chor and spill through the windows to see Ritrix and Willard speaking with Sinestro about me and the musical instruments I brought into this world. And so too could I see a winged woman luring people into nearby alleys. A greedy merchant, and a hopeful tycoon.


    I could look a bit to the west and see a grand city of spires and abstract buildings that virtually poured magic into the sky. One of which held two dwarves and two humans speaking to an excitable gnome. In another, a desperate alchemist reluctantly gazed my way, hoping for what mortals longed for the most.


    In an alley of some nearby, much less impressive city, another pair of pleading eyes darted between me and a rotund kid with red hair and emerald eyes before she pulled a glob of water over his head and held it until only her gaze remained. Nearby, I could see her opposite, a small and frail thing imprisoned in her own body. Someone who was truly worthy.


    Further east I could see Roheisa, arguing with an orc about her not caring about some damned mushroom. She needed to be near a volcano, she declared before storming off. A half-orc with red-tinted skin trailing behind her. A half-high orc, who also screamed that she didn¡¯t need a mushroom to rage either. Only grace.


    I could see two vampires leading caravans above and below the mountains of Rhar, trudging dutifully toward the beacons of light their various faiths showed them. East of that, I could see Mary, standing within a vast and verdant grove filled with mana that could only have been described as wild or primal. But only in some places. In others, the mana somehow pushed birds and beasts into becoming gigantic or in others, intelligent. And in one other place, the mana itself seemed¡­ Blighted. But still, there was life found within the Blighted Woods. Within, there was a life that seemed intent on living.


    That was hardly the most interesting sight, however, for I could see the rangers in Rhar, standing within a grove dissimilar to the ones the druids inhabited. One with far fewer plants and far more animals that had a sort of¡­ industrial purpose. And no Jaimess. He was high up the mountains pursuing the path I wrote out for him, rather than the one Corym thought he knew. Relatively close by, I saw Scarlett and Phelia standing before a clearly disgruntled Archie and a blindingly eager Ferris.


    A few ways away, in the Kasian Empire, the many fighters weren¡¯t fighting at all but were drilling their recruits in endless combat against their undead just as they had done in Noctis Reach. Among them, separated by a few counties, was dear ole Borrowed Time, held captive by a band of goblins that were probing their young into torturing him. And mostly succeeding.


    Deep in the heartlands of the Ligin Kingdom were Toril and the other paladins, standing before a face I¡¯d never before seen with no Titus in sight. What was in sight though, albeit a fair distance away, was a certain politician I once made a deal with, growing madder and madder as the days passed by.


    Even more curious than that was Rua, Peter, and Veil of Shadows, standing before a perturbed Abbot Eiriol and several other drow who, like the Abbot, seemed uncannily familiar. They were so curious and so uncannily familiar that I remained with the moonlight splayed across the cold floor of that hut to listen to her seemingly ridiculous claim of my heritage. And then I looked elsewhere, to the largest city within that war-torn land to see something vile and sad; a drunken and enraged king throwing his daughter out into the snow for not the first time while his son was again taken to the dungeons at the behest of his wicked queen.


    It was then I moved to a cold bog in the southeastern end of the peninsula and rode the lines of silver light down into a drainage ditch, where I saw a masked man turn to a young boy the moment he entered the hidden room.


    ¡°No faces!¡±


    ¡°Wha-¡± They looked around panicked and seemed to notice the many disguises worn within for the first time. Then turned tail and left with haste, shuddering as a gust of snow poured in through the door as he passed through.


    The masked man then turned back to his business before the door swung wide again and jumped as he saw a masked figure in stark white clothes walking past him, an almost formless weasel perched atop his shoulder, and another masked man in leathers following close behind, all swaying their heads and subtly adjusting their gaits as they passed without a word. All seemed well until the man straightened his posture as if he sensed something¡­ uncanny.


    Looking up, he saw an owl perched in the rafters. The Owl. Black as night, his feathers were. His eyes were like a dark night filled with a million twinkling stars that stared into the soul. How easy it was for him to get lost in those eyes. So like the eyes of the original dusk owl, Pora Bora, perched nearby Brybs County.


    Seeing all I needed to for now, I pulled my senses back to my body and turned to face Doyle. ¡°I have three jobs for you. And though you said you¡¯d like to retire and live.¡± I turned to Olga. ¡°I would like to offer you a job still.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± She slowly nodded. ¡°I¡¯m all ears.¡±


    ¡°If you are willing. And only if you are willing.¡± I assured her. ¡°I¡¯d like you to continue teaching as you¡¯ve taught me. Both my Legions and the civilians.¡±


    ¡°I-¡± she sighed in relief. ¡°Yeah. I can do that. I will do that.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I smiled. Then turned to Doyle. ¡°You truly live up to your name now, Wolfgang.¡± I gestured at the massive wolves and chuckled. ¡°Doyle, I¡¯d like you to defend this realm and its people from those who would seek to do it harm. Not that many will be able to for quite some time. As such, I also ask that you do the same as Olga and teach my beloved explorers. My Legionaries. Educate them. Train them better than any have ever been trained before. Pass on the skills that made you pursued by the guilds of Polaris. Take these vestiges of my divinity.¡± I held out my hand and poured the energy within. ¡°Take this power, become my first proxies.¡±


    They both hesitated before grabbing hold of my hand, glowing with divine light. Olga looked expectantly at Doyle. And he at me.


    ¡°What else would you have me do?¡± He finally asked.


    ¡°I want you to keep a close eye on someone for me. I''m sure you can guess who.¡±

 246 - The Owl

    The Owl.


    1 day of Ianua(1st month), 1492.


    Courch Crossing, Gasinx City East. Brybs County.


    ***


    Wrapped in a hooded robe of nightly quills and dusky feathers, the pale-faced Owl perched in the rafters of this dank complex, feeling utterly bemused. Its head turned its star-filled eyes this way and that as it bobbed up and down, watching the masked humans practice picking transparent locks or attempt to sneak around this decrepit place with varying degrees of success.


    The Owl watched them as The Owl had watched so many others throughout Brybs County make the same strange gestures or take sidelong glances at the obscure makings hidden in plain sight to learn the wordless Cant known to rogues across the realms.


    This was Brybs County. The coastal land to the southeast where cities sat atop wooden stilts, keeping them hovering above the fetid streams of a cold bog that persisted for as far as the eye could see.


    Brybs. The land of goblins, orcs, and every other creature shunned, killed, or enslaved by the so-called civilized species.


    Brybs County. Rogue territory.


    Specifically, this was the City of Gasinx. Degenerate central. An incoherent blot on the land made of a dozen architectural designs smashed together in an effort to be called a city. The crude planks and bone bars of goblin abodes sat horrendously close to the rugged hide tents orcs called home. Even towering above them in some places and puncturing them in many more. Even those, however, were towered over evermore by the spires or townhouses built by the slightly more successful humans around them.


    Whether it was the farms to the east, the Cloud Field district, the Applewell Center, High Ferry, or the Honey Dew District, killing, stealing, kidnappings, and robberies were the norm.


    It was here, beneath the very ¡®guard post¡¯ overlooking the two sets of bridges in the city, that the Bodhi Tree¡¯s Rogues Guild was located. Aptly and disgustingly named Green Water. It was here that they learned without being taught the language of thieves- a forbidden, wordless tongue of body language and environmental cues that spoke to all who remembered the Cant. Random carvings on a line of buildings could make up a spined horseshoe when seen from the correct perspective- a safe house. Other carvings depicting rats or snakes denoted hidden tunnels or caches, depending on whether the creature was fleeing or attacking. With subtle hand gestures and body language, thieves could plot scores with each other whilst engaging in conversation with a friendly neighborhood guard.


    Though unevolved rogues often knew the cant, only the evolved could see it without effort; and once the young rogues below could, they followed the hidden script to enter and escape from trapped rooms, attempt to steal props without detection, and land stealthy attacks on unsuspecting magical dummies. Again, to varying degrees of success. Such paltry exercises were beneath The Owl. The ambitions hidden beneath these divine feathers ran far deeper than the Darkworld. Or rather, they ran as deep as the Underworld. To the land of death and devils. So, with the paltry but sure-to-be-needed perks of his class, The Owl took flight towards the north, flying high and low through the ethereal layer of dusk spread across the beautiful land below.


    But, The Owl¡¯s eyes remained ahead, its mind transfixed on a certain politician it hadn¡¯t seen for quite some time.


    He was found leagues upon leagues upon leagues from where we first met. In a brilliant chateau, set within the finest district of Anabel. A city of the Vrurian Empire. Inside was just him, his wife, his many maids and servants¡­ and, The Owl, slipping silently through the dusk to take a dip into his shadow and observe the wickedness within him.


    ¡ª¡ª


    [Rogue Devil, Soul Mastermind: Step 2 - The Language. Task: Complete.]


    [Reward: Passive Skill - [Thieves Cant.] Mana will react to the Cant in your presence, automatically translating it into written words or highlighting it for easier detection.]


    [Reward: Passive Skill - [Cunning Reaction.] The paranoia of living as a rogue has heightened your perception to unyielding degrees, thus opening your nerves to a surge of mana upon the moment of detection, in turn drastically improving your reflexes and agility for the split second needed for decisive action.]


    [Step 3 - The Soul Mastermind: To continue your journey to becoming unbranded, you must find one you¡¯ve made previous dealings with and masterfully guide them towards their death. In turn, pulling their soul to your abyss, where they will be reborn into your first devil.]


    ¡ª¡ª


    ¡®They¡¯re out there¡­ HIDING!¡¯


    The whispers made him flinch. Always, they always made him flinch. But his feet refused to move from before the window regardless. Not until his saving grace pulled him from that horrid trance, did his feet even budge.


    Budge.


    Not move.


    ¡°Raymond, dear, you¡¯ve been there for hours. Come, I¡¯ve warmed your food.¡±


    ¡®She understands not.¡¯


    ¡°No.¡± The wickedness born from the deal he signed made his head shake, and he felt it. Distantly. He heard its grating whisper just as he heard its scream in his voice.


    ¡®And how could she? She wasn¡¯t the one called to our unruly nation of Mazi for court. She wasn¡¯t the one who was poisoned by supposed allies. She wasn¡¯t the one who had to put on a brave face as she walked among her potential conspirators in her own damn city! She wasn¡¯t the one with a county at risk of being overrun by barbarians, at risk of being the reason Mazi declared its independence!''


    No.


    She didn¡¯t understand. But when Bakewia seceded and they lost out on the enchantments coming from the Protectorate, that¡¯s when she would care.


    ¡°Ungrateful-¡±


    ¡°Dear¡­¡±


    A soft touch brushed his shoulder and the wickedness ingrained in him saw every fiber of his being pulled taught. As if he¡¯d been grasped by a hag, he lashed out. As if pulled by an unknown force, he spun hard enough to overshoot the sight of his saving grace and twisted back to see her sprawled on the ground, a slender hand caressing her reddened cheek. A look of utter fear on her face as she stared¡­ at him, in horror!


    A pleasurable sight to the Owl; and thus a sight Raymond could witness through the watery mirrors of his wife¡¯s eyes. From it, Raymond vividly felt that unknowing force, that wicked raincloud above his head, pulling his face into a taught, wicked scowl aimed at his victim. Raymond could sense the malevolence that haunted him sealing his mouth closed; keeping any words of apology from filling the air. Allowing only the sobs of his beloved to ripple across the floor until he could take no more.


    He ran.


    He left. To where he knew not, but he rode and rode through the blistering cold until he faced a familiar sight. A line of glistening spears and reddened armor.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    What a welcome sight it was.


    Before he knew it, his sword was out of its sheath, and standing tall among the glistening weapons pointed skyward, racing back and forth across the line as he whispered as loudly as the Owl¡¯s gilded night would allow.


    ¡°Move! Forward! Move forward!¡± He screamed. ¡°You cannot hope to spot the enemy this far from the boundary! Move!¡±


    Anytime a noble appeared spouting orders, troops were confused. This time was no different. Except, he had an ally. A captain who, as zealously as he, realized the danger that loomed over their heads and so joined in belaying orders. If needed, he pushed people closer to the border, shouting and then yelling and then screaming for them to stay vigilant until the buzzing war drums sounded on the horizon.


    And then they needed no such probing.


    But still, the wickedness scratched and whispered.


    ¡®They¡¯re coming. For US!¡¯


    ¡°Here they come!¡± Raymond shouted. ¡°Form a line!¡±


    ¡®WE must strike first if WE are to survive!¡±


    ¡°Stay vigilant!¡± Raymond banged the shield of a nearby soldier with his sword, charging the weapon with energy. Then moved on to the next. ¡°If any barbarian crosses this border, they shall meet a swift end! Stay vigilant, Protectors of Anabel! For the Glory of Vruria! Stand strong against these conspirators!¡±


    ¡®Kill them ALL.¡¯


    ¡°Stay-¡±


    A sudden gust from behind stole the air from his lungs and forced him about. But nothing was there to be found. Nothing but darkness. Darkness, and fear.


    ¡°Stay vigilant.¡±


    ---


    The Owl had many children. Not in the sense of raptors or even serpents, Mustelids, rodents, or felines. We shared things, the Owl and the other. Even the creatures of our most private domains. And so, anyone who revered our creatures was our children. Therein was the subject of the buzzing drums echoing from Mazi¡¯s border. Buzzing not for war but for revelry, the drums thrummed with a sting-induced rage by the hands of children the Owl could only admire. Barbaric children. Naive children. But good children nonetheless.


    Even good children died, however.


    It was something they¡¯d done many times, the sacred battle brothers, Gruna and Thorotna. Then again, it was something they¡¯d rarely done, for the circumstances had changed. The warmongering civilized folk kept attacking. And they would not forsake their ways. And so, they stalked through the woods in the dawn of light, reminding each other to keep their eyes on the swivel as they neared the Vrurian border.


    ¡°The cowards probably have wizards. Many of them. Probably.¡± Gruna whispered low.


    ¡°No probably.¡± Thorotna laughed grimly. ¡°So let us be quick.¡±


    Saying no more, Gruna turned to lean into a nearby tree and gave it a knock to allow the snow to fall over him; blending him into the environment to permit him a hide in which to provide overwatch. Thorotna had no such luxuries, only a moment to look around Gruna¡¯s blind spot before turning his attention to the tree. However, instead of a cluster of bees in the hole of a tree, there was only wood that splintered once an arrow hit home where his head had once been.


    Oh, how he wished the hive was present at that moment. For, even while cold, their Path- their rage would liven the bees- the Owl and the Other''s children. It would enrage them. Their stings would act to strengthen their own. But alas, there were none. And so, Thorotna turned his attention to the coward who struck from the shadows. For them, there was plenty of rage in reserves. Enough to get them through without any poisonous stings, he assumed.


    Weapons drawn, they put themselves back to back and spun slowly, scanning the white-topped forest for their opponents. Equal parts eager and desperate they were to see them, for the darkness grew deeper with each passing moment, and if they truly possessed wizards, the battle brothers were at a disadvantage.


    Instead of magic, however, arrows sailed through the night and from opposing directions to sink their tips deep into their hides. Groaning angrily, Thorotna broke the arrow shaft at once, leaving the tip embedded in his thigh. Beginning a grumbling song to Viltramas to give him strength, he then turned to Gruna and faltered as he saw his sacred battle brother leaning against the tree, his fist clenched before his neck where it held an arrow shaft. A shaft impaled deeply into the tree behind him.


    Thorotna knew then that it was a battle of time. Their wrath would keep them from bleeding out. But not entirely. So, with unbridled fury, his song to Viltramas rose to a rippling wave of heat. Gruna began gurgling, singing as he unimpaled himself from the tree before he took up a stance beside his brother, searching and scanning the forest in hopes of finding something to hurl their weapons into.


    They were good children.


    Two more arrows came from the left. Then from the right a second later. Easily they were dodged or blocked. Harder were the frustrations they carried.


    ¡°Cowards!¡± They screamed in unison. But only Thorotna edged further. ¡°Show yourself! Have you no honor?¡±


    A condescending laugh was the only reply. One that seemed to fall from all directions, echoed through the forest as if it were alive and filled with malice.


    ¡°There is no honor in war.¡±


    The Owl appeared to their front without warning, freezing them in place from the sight of the small exotic bird. It was small. Black as the night itself but with a white, heart-shaped face and black legs that seemed to be made of metal. And those eyes, like a sea of stars contained in an infinite pit of despair, made their legs freeze.


    The Owl hopped forward and grew twice larger. The darkness that had been growing deepened tenfold, making the endless trees and the brightened snow seem distant and dim.


    The Owl stepped forward and grew larger still. Man-sized but with long, winged arms held out before the body to pin an elaborate cane to the ground; supporting its stature as it leaned ever-forward to tower its neck impossibly high over their frames.


    ¡°Sorcerous beast!¡± Gruna lashed out. And Thorotna, behind him.


    The last thing they saw was a feathered hand waving, pitting everything around them in darkness. Leaving, in the end, only their rage to sing in the eternal dusk.


    They were good children. The best in a hive full of them. Thus it was not long before more came. Another pair of less sacred battle brothers. Dorn and Viktor.


    ¡°We have to tell the Chieftain at once.¡±


    Perhaps it was the round of stings they¡¯d been subjected to before venturing here. If one could ever look back on that day, they would say those fresh faces saw the tracks heading toward the encampment and simply came to a logical conclusion. But they were aware of the folly that saw them ruined. It was seeing two great battle brothers, Gruna and Thorotna, covered in arrows and frozen blood, that did it. Their weapons were dry and cold from the lack of battle. Yet their faces were contorted in equal parts fear and rage. An undeserving death for ones as mighty as they.


    It could not stand. And so, they knew it was time to ensure Vruria knew to stray from our lands.


    Their fury was such that they remembered not the journey to the hall of mead. Nor did they remember their arrival or telling of what was found. Their minds only registered the familiar contortion of rage on every barbarian present. It was greater than even the Owl had ever seen. The rage of over 900 barbarians was verily tangible. Vibrating the mead hall with such an intensity that it threatened its structural stability, buzzing the air so loud as if it demanded to be heard by all of the Mazi Council. But of course, the Owl would ensure not a soul would hear a whisper of this conspiracy.


    The swarms were released in droves, but still, they honored the traditions. Scorpions flew from their cages first, plummeting their curled barbs into the flesh of the heartiest of men. Then came those from the tribes of the Ant, Bee, and Wasp, injecting their wrath-inducing cocktails before the songs to Viltramas, the marching of boots, and the clanging of metal on metal melded with the buzzing seamlessly.


    They marched through that cold night without fear as an unstoppable force. Even as the dozen or so Vrurian ballistae and cannons pierced or blew apart the ground before the standard bearer, they marched. Even as hundreds of arrows rained from the skies, they stormed. Even as hundreds of calvary flanked and hundreds more infantry formed a line, they charged.


    Stupidly so, at first glance.


    Even though they were outnumbered almost three to one, they sang gloriously to the Gods of Conquest and War throughout the battle.


    Dorn felt a surge of fiery blood rush through his body as he made contact with a man in pretentious armor. So afraid of a deadly blow he was, and so angered by the fact of his brothers being felled by such cowardly beings was Dorn that the veil of red threatened to consume all around him. However, he mastered the wrath within him long ago. Thus his great sword was dropped upon the head of that hated Vrurian with all of his fury, crumpling them under their precious armor; and with a scream that morphed into a heated buzzing noise, he brought his great sword down again, implanting Vrurians into the dirt by the half-dozen before he turned, swinging, felling Vrurians with his brothers until the field of white grew more and more littered with the reddened bodies of the dead and dying.


    Dorn cut down another and caught his gaze on the ballistae and cannons destroyed and in flames. Such a lapse in concentration cost him a gash across the back and he swung without hesitation, throwing a woman dressed in armor into the brush before he attempted to reel his sword in.


    Too late, was it, for he retrieved the blade from the newly formed crevasse with a sickening crunch and a vengeful curse to the Vrurians for subjecting women to battle.


    His discriminatory weakness cost him a cold prick from behind.


    Again, he spun at once, finding purchase on nothing- seeing nothing, feeling only another piece of cold metal wedge between his ribs before his throat ran hot.


    He tried to shout and only heard the splatters of liquid. He looked down and only saw blood gushing onto his chest. He was... confused. Empty. Dying. And yet, he could feel his distant body laying in the cold fields, falling into the most pervasive darkness one could imagine while the Owl witnessed his dying moments in passive contempt.

 247 - A Familiarly Unfamiliar Face

    Withdrawing the Shade Splitters from the ghostly impression of Dorn, the Owl looked around the dark mirror of the battlefield and echoed a hoot into the endless night. If only for show. There were no bodies to be raised in the Realm of Shadows. Not as there was on the outside. Only mounds of sludge resembling corpses existed, with some being capable of spawning creatures of the night that seemed to take off in aimless directions.


    Seemed.


    A ghostly flash pulled the Owl''s attention to first the barbarian felled by a woman on horseback who shuddered as she fled with three other riders to the hills. Using just as much energy as it took to lean forward in a chair, the Owl arrived before the fleeing victims with a flurry of dimensional slices that left them in pieces. The Owl¡¯s cleanup left no survivors. Or rather, it left 2,509 Vrurian cadavers and another 909 Mazian corpses to be claimed. With many of them being undying shadows.


    With the arcane focus that was the Owl''s perching staff, the Owl slammed the mithral tip into the ground thrice, sending subsequent waves of death energy throughout the battlefield that first prevented most of the dead from decomposing; then second, raised the newest army to face the Owl with their heads lowered and their hands clasped before their hearts, wherein they remained until the third and final wave cleared the land of gore and negative energy, leaving next to no trace of what transpired on this field.


    With a wave, the undead began scrambling to retrieve weapons, repair the battlefield to its prior state, and recover objects deemed worthy of inspection. Meanwhile, the Owl gazed over the new undead phenotypes to be born from the battle.


    The majority of the barbarians that died whilst seething became the seething version of draugr. Revenants; made whole with searing flames. And since their limitless wrath couldn¡¯t be projected towards the one that killed them, it was aimed towards literally everything else that lived.


    Although they were still controllable, their volatility led to them being stored inside the Shadow Pocket after only a few minutes of babysitting. Leaving roughly 2,560 undead to distribute among the Legions and elsewhere.


    Setting the remaining barbarians aside, the remaining Vrurians were divided as they¡¯d been before the battle. 749 archers. Roughly 900 infantry. 800 cavalry. Plus 10 ballistae and 5 cannon batteries, each with a five-man crew.


    First came the archers, who were promptly rotted into skeletal archers before being sent off to the Shade Room for billeting and training. From the Bob''s, they would learn every field of craft and graduate as Undead Captains, ready to be split between the Legions and Silas. The same was done for the 900 or so zombie infantry. The caveat was that half of them went through the transition to become skeletal undead maneuvering units. The cannon batteries, on the other hand, were given to Hogaz, Bazzric Baal, Els, Forgruna, and Ed to reverse engineer and improve. Two of the ballistae went off to Ed and Matthew Reid for the same reason, leaving the remaining eight to be shipped off to Maru to see what the concept of simultaneous invention would produce.


    As for the cavalry, they were reserved solely for the Legions to be promoted as they saw fit; a given, seeing as the mountainous terrain surrounding Hill Base would do the mounted troops little good. Thus, when they were sent off, the Owl was once again by his lonesome, staring at the grimoire opened to the boons of the Owl''s latest promotion.


    [Rogue Devil: Step 3, Soul Mastermind - Complete]


    [Reward. Active Skill: [Devil¡¯s Mimicry] - After closely studying an individual for a cumulative total of one hour, you can perfectly mimic their voice, habits, mannerisms, and accent, provided you know their language.]


    Perhaps because the Owl was who the Owl was. Perhaps it was because the skill was something the Owl could more or less already do. In either case, no changes coincided with the evolution. Thus the Owl was surprised to learn of its existence.


    [Reward. Passive Skill: [Devil¡¯s Intrigue] - Your mana, so wicked and corrupted, works to augment the quality of your disguises, forged documents, planted evidence, or other illicit creations.]


    Again, no change. There was, however, a cunning smile felt spreading beneath the Owl¡¯s mask as thoughts of new possibilities associated with this skill came to mind.


    [Reward. Ritual: [Fiendish Familiar] - Through braziers, incantations, and flames of dark; you can call from your pit, a soul you have marked. Through this ritual, your devils come to be; the only type of fiend, obliged to let you be free.]


    And there it was.


    It appeared in the grimoire much like the scroll taken from the Shade Forge¡¯s treasure room. It detailed an elaborate sigil meant to be carved into the ground and filled with a liter of blood from a recently killed humanoid.


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    For that, the Owl didn¡¯t even need to do anything, only spread a cloud of darkness to conceal the act before carving the thing into the ground. Then, as the blood began seeping, the Owl began scanning the sigils and lines spread across the script. Only, the Owl couldn¡¯t read them. It was some strange eldritch text that peered off the formless page as the eyes passed over them. Like water going down a funnel, the text flowed into the mind, forming words that found themselves being pushed out the throat in an abyssal and gothic chant.


    Within ten minutes, the blood unnaturally pooled from the surrounding environment, filling each nook and cranny of the sigil before it began darkening. Within five minutes it began darkening to a deep black, and over the course of fifteen minutes, it began pooling up and over the lines gouged into the earth. A cold, blue-violet flame spontaneously appeared from the inky tar some five minutes later. Five minutes after that, and every five minutes thereafter, another Flame of Moil sprouted to pour its cold umbral clouds into the already midnight skies above.


    The entire time, the chanting continued. Only now, as the last line was read, did the strange energy flow into the Owl''s mind. Forcing from it words that remained echoing in the mind, probing the Owl to call out the name of this new devil.


    And so, the Owl shouted the first name that came to mind. ¡°Diamante!¡±


    With a muffled boom, the Flames of Moil thinned into streaks and rose in fantastic arcs that slammed into the center of the sigil, forming a smooth sphere that was soon breached by a clawed foot covered in a shoe of darkness. The night erupted in equal parts cackling and gasping as the figure continued pushing its leg through. Covered in the same darkness, it was, all the way up the leg and onto the torso to form the likeness of an umbral suit; unbuttoned in the front and torn up the sleeves and trousers to make way for the cruelly sharp spines running up the sides of its arms and legs.


    As its trailing arm remained in the portal, its other shoulder pushed through, allowing a leathery umbral wing to drape gently over the snow before it flapped in accordance with the tug of its other arm. That tug produced a trident made of a purplish-black material that soon hung lazily before its head, pointed like that of a reptile.


    A moment was taken to study it further. Though it had the smooth skin of a human, its head seemed like it truly was blended with the likeness of a reptile. There was no nose like that found on a human. And I could clearly see the distinctive membrane that served as its ears sitting behind its white, slitted eyes. Not to mention the rows upon rows of jagged teeth protruding from its thin lips.


    ¡°Diamante!¡± The Owl spread its wings, smiling as he approached the portal the new devil was stepping through. ¡°We will travel the Underworld. And you will teach the Owl Deep Abyssal.¡± The Owl said. And before he could reply, the devilish raptor pushed him in.


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡± Came his eventual hiss of a reply, but the Owl''s mind was on a version of the Underworld that had never been seen before. It wasn¡¯t the home-like realm of the Necro Throne. Nor was it the cold, endless plain of the greater Underworld. This was, in effect, like the Bodhi Tree. There was a city, but one with a sky of darkness that boasted white grains and veins that looked uncannily similar to the arcane roots of the Bodhi Tree. And there was so. Many. Devils.


    No longer did they cower from the void within the Owl. And yet, neither did they look at the Owl with more than a passing glance- even when The Owl¡¯s vestiges came off and I showed them my true form.


    I may have been their God. But I was still a Rogue Devil.


    With no real sense of time, it was hard to tell how long I remained there, learning Deep Abyssal and the nature of curses from Diamante, the devil who would be writing my contracts from now on.


    As I already knew, the bread and butter of devilhood was making deals with mortals. Souls increased a devil¡¯s station, vitality, power, health, and virtually everything else. It was our life force. It was how we evolved or grew into greater devils. But most of all, it was our social standing. And we were always aiming to increase our station.


    However, deals, like many things, came in different forms.


    By themselves, Deals served as the highest form of a curse in all the realms of existence. One only we were privy to. But even then, all but the Archdevils could only make deals in a language the agreeing party knew despite the contract being written out in Abyssal. Those deals were, in effect, used to grant wishes that ranged from wealth or power to longevity or revenge. No matter what was exchanged, the devil would gain ownership of the soul. Life was then leeched from the soul while it lived and in turn was replaced with cursed mana, driving that soul into a deeper state of depravity and madness whilst simultaneously keeping them alive and thus suffering longer until their inevitable death. The more deranged they became, the greater devil they were reborn as; and thus more capable of serving the devil they made a deal with.


    Just like Diamante with me.


    Only the Archdevils, despite all devils of a high enough station knowing Deep Abyssal, only the Archdevils could make deals in the primordial language. Those were the deals that could most famously grant ''immortality.'' But it was through this that the Archdevils imbued power into mortals to create warlocks, clerics, and anti-paladins.


    From what I understood about my future boons, my claimed souls would work similarly; as a source of power for my warlocks, a catalyst for evolutionary growth, and a boost to my physical attributes; but only whilst in my transformed state. Only, my warlocks would be better. They would have castes. Specializations. Jobs. Industries. Domains.


    That, I assumed, besides my divinity, was what separated me from the other devils.


    Or at least, that was what we- Amun and I- assumed until I returned to the Mortal Plane.


    ¡ª¡ª


    [Rogue Devil, Soul Mastermind - Step 4: The Pact. To continue your path towards removing your brands, you must perform the Pact Insidious or the Pact Certain on a mortal soul and guide them and many others to your Underworld without any becoming the wiser to your vile deeds.]

 248 - Speak the Language

    Rather than Mazi, Vruria, or even Brybs, the Owl returned to the Mortal Plane and looked about to see a rolling plain of herbs and flowers peering above a blanket of snow. In the far, far distance was the beacon of steel and glass that served as the pride and joy of Chaulort. But alas, the Owl was just beyond the Chaulort border. Perched in the Kasian Empire to pick up an old friend before the Owl took flight.


    Within a few minutes, the rendezvous was complete and the Owl was perched atop that domed ceiling, looking down into an office of red-stained wood and plush carpet surrounded by books and busts and boisterous paintings of great witches from across the ages.


    Sitting wearily behind a desk was the man the Owl came here to see. Meanwhile, the package that was retrieved from the next country over was at the main entrance, handing over a letter recently forged using Devil''s Intrigue, if only to test the limits of the perk.


    It took not long for Borrowed Time to be escorted through the building and arrive in front of the door of that grimy man. With a groan, he was up. And then his face contorted in a wide smile once he saw the man who shouldn¡¯t have been living smiling sheepishly at him. Of course, Archie brought him inside to inquire what he¡¯d been through since leaving.


    ¡°Torture,¡± said Borrowed Time. And he continued to say that it¡¯d been horrible. That he kept dying and waking up alive and well every week. Sometimes he¡¯d die early and remain dead until the week''s end. Others, he¡¯d be tortured for the whole week and wake up the next day to be tortured by orcs and goblins again and again.


    It was then that Archie asked him about his affairs. The ones he pleaded to Amun about. The ones that needed completing before he died. However, Archie soon became astonished when Borrowed Time, traumatized and mentally broken beyond belief, had no clue what he was talking about. Nor did Borrowed Time care. He simply continued explaining that he was saved by a fighter who became intrigued by his plight. This fighter then brought Borrowed Time to their associate, a prodigal old man from Bakewia with immense wealth and grandiose ideas that, if they were realized, could revolutionize the world of witchcraft. But, he had no practical experience in the craft. Instead, his prowess sat in artificing.


    That confused Archie, which, in turn, birthed a seed of curiosity that grew as Borrowed Time handed off the second letter, composed and sealed by this supposed benefactor who heard of Archie¡¯s prowess in Witchcraft and the limits imposed upon him by his employer.


    In short, it was an offering. A deal that required Archie to quit immediately, gathering any of his staff to accompany him if possible. This benefactor would then drown him in wealth, going as far as building a facility for him in a place that would permit as many patients of as many species as possible. He was to heal those patients, of course. But secretly, he was to study the theories and designs sent to him from this benefactor and work on bringing them into creation. And under no condition was he to share this knowledge with anyone but three entities: Borrowed Time; what Borrowed Time described as his benefactor''s summoned creature; and, in the unlikely event of him visiting, the Benefactor himself.


    ¡°Summon?¡± Archie asked and was grasped tighter by morbid curiosity once he learned that an exotic being often assisted this Benefactor. And it was then that Archie showed the greed found in all mortals. ¡°I want to be known across the lands- and longevity on top of that! Can your Benefactor¡¯s summon give me that?¡±


    Borrowed Time, under the influence of divine and wicked magic that his broken will couldn¡¯t hope to fight back against, nodded confidently. ¡°Signing the paper will summon it here temporarily. Tell it your demands then. His words were, ¡®There is no budget.¡¯ Nothing is off the table.¡±


    Of course, such confidence was spewed vicariously, simply because it was the truth. Archie would have what he desired. Just not in the way he suspected.


    He would have fame through infamy.


    He would have longevity, as a devil.


    But that wasn¡¯t even a possibility for a greedy healthcare professional with a crooked moral compass. He made plans to put in his resignation immediately, only signing the contract once he was midway through the act. Cueing the time for theatrics.


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    Using a petty illusion, the Owl sent a cascade of feathers from the ceiling. Down they fell, with a slight deflection that pulled them to the edge of his desk to amass in the form of the Owl, staring its star-filled eyes into the awed orbs of Archie. He reiterated his demands to me. And in Deep Abyssal, I gave him boons and curses alike to aid him in his task. Boons such as strength and knowledge. Curses such as the inability to eat or sleep coupled with an obsession with his work. Blessings such as an unaging and biologically immortal body. Banes such as a lack of morals and emotions. Benefits like every battlefield in the region knowing of his clinic and seeking it out above others. Hexes to be unable to show or tell anyone how they were treated. Only that they were.


    It was a gamble, assuming he wouldn¡¯t understand the words as they formed into a visible eldritch text of wicked energy. But then again, it wasn¡¯t as if it mattered. Archie undoubtedly saw his curses as boons, given by the widening eyes and satisfactory gaze as the words became bound to his soul. And then came a cascade of motion and energy trapped in a bubble of shattered perception, triggered by Borrowed Time stepping off to leave.


    A blast of light blew the door apart as he turned, forcing the world to a crawl. The Owl turned to see a shockwave plowing into Borrowed Time, knocking him off of his feet and throwing him through the air at a comically slow pace while Archie shot up from his desk, his lips contorting in preparations to deal a barrage of swears towards the one and only Ferris Licht. And then time resumed at its normal pace with the Witch of Light¡¯s shouting rebuttal coming to a grinding halt as she heard a groan from Borrowed Time and bent low to help him up.


    Meanwhile, Archie suddenly stopped and looked to where the Owl had been with a shocked expression, bringing the eyes of Ferris, and eventually Borrowed Time to turn to where he was looking. In turn, the Owl looked at the amorphous frames standing in a decrepit office of rotted wood and warped art. If only for a second until the vestiges were tucked away and my eyes turned to the arcane words inscribing themselves onto the fetid airs of the Shadow Realm; words that were promptly ignored by the painful aches and pains blooming within both my physical body and my spiritual one.


    [The Path of Zefroth - Step 1: See Evil, Hear Evil, Speak Evil. Task: Complete.]


    Within my spirit, I could see a black mass surrounded by golden light aggregate and settle in place beneath my Mana Well. So small it was in comparison. Yet the discomfort it produced was immense.


    [Reward: Mutation - [Cursed Well.] Within this Well of Wicked Energy- found both within your Spirit and your Underworld- rests the souls you¡¯ve cursed or dealt with. On its own, this Cursed Mana is used for your evolution into the Void Devil. However, it can and will be used to give power to your Cursed Warlocks; and so too can it be used for necrotic healing at your discretion.]


    Another pain soon came from my spirit, forcing more space between my three Wells of Arcana, Divine, and Cursed Mana before it was quelled.


    [Reward: Mutation - [Ovatorium.] This small spiritual organ contains the blueprints of your future Void Devil evolutions.]


    The pain- pain I had long since grown used to, became intolerable once it spread to my eyes. I thrashed in the muck of the Shadowfell, clutching and clawing at my eyes that felt like they¡¯d melted into blobs of searing metal that remained in my sockets to cool and reform into new optical organs.


    [Reward: Evolution - [Void Devil¡¯s Eyes.] With the Eyes of the Void Devil, you can look through the windows to the soul and shop for the desires of any mortal.]


    Then came a searing pain in my ears. They felt as if they were on fire. Melting and sloughing off my skull to be replaced by a cold fiery chill that spread from the depths of my ear canal until it finally reached the tips of my elven ears.


    [Reward: Evolution - [Void Devil¡¯s Ears.] This physical evolution enables you to hear the pleas of mortals within 10,000 kilometers of your location; facilitating your ability to seek them out and curse or make deals with them. Or not.]


    I couldn¡¯t even celebrate or think of how far I¡¯d take the perk, as a greater pain soon spread through my mouth. It was as if I''d eaten the hottest pepper in existence- nay, as if a cereal of the hottest peppers in existence was poured into a slurry of white phosphorous and pure sodium and forced down my throat.


    It was a type of torture that made my years with Grandpa Lich seem like a playfight. But, like all things, it passed, leaving me staring at the arcane words hanging mockingly over my head.


    [Reward: Evolution - [Void Devil¡¯s Tongue.] With the Tongue of the Void Devil, your Cursed Spells, Curses, and Deals are made an order of magnitude stronger than that of your devil-kin. Regardless of what language they¡¯ve been spoken in, only a wish can revert your Curses, but never your Deals. When the Tongue of Void speaks Deep Abyssal, however, the words have the power to transcend space-time and even your demise. Able to be reversed only by yourself.]


    [The Path of Zefroth: Step Two - The Flesh: To take the Second Step toward your fiendish throne, you must gather one thousand souls and trigger your first transformation.]

 249 - Hunted

    ''When did I begin to love the fight?


    It sure as hell wasn¡¯t on Earth. Or anywhere in the Sol System, for that matter. Where, regardless of the reason, two groups of humans- mostly young, were enthralled in the deadly dance of war started by those creeping towards their deathbeds in some faraway land of wealth and squalor. But at the same time, it was a game where only skill, wit, determination, and sometimes luck resulted in the victorious nectar that was life.


    There eventually came a time when there was no hostility toward those at the end of my sight. There existed an entirely different reason for my prowess in battle than mere survival, however. Sure, the opposition wanted to kill me, but I hated them not for it; for I wanted to kill them equally. I wanted to live. Despite the harsh realities I¡¯d been forced to witness thus far. The curses of a still primitive mind, I suppose, forced such a desire upon me.


    There was more to it than a mere willingness to live, however. I faced Marie Antoinette''s levels of trauma during war. My hair even went white. And like some who experienced such things, I had a veritable death wish. As such, I was just as I am in this life: a walking contradiction.


    And so I killed. And so I lived. But there was always respect for those I faced in combat. I was the victor in those conflicts, only because I was slightly better than them. Yet any number of variables could¡¯ve changed the outcome of each and every engagement.


    No. It couldn¡¯t have been in my past life; when I began to love the fight.


    There was nothing to love about seeing a seven-year-old kill your best friend, after all. But when I see a demon shatter a city block with but a stomp of its foot? I can''t help but feel exhilarated. When I see a dragon engulf an entire country in flames with a single breath? I can''t help but be astonished. When Legions of the living and the dead eclipse the sun and shatter the ground with their march? I can''t help but be inspired.


    Somewhere along the line after my rebirth, an obsession formed. A drive to witness fantastic abilities developed. From that, a lust to be challenged was birthed. Yet, I knew not the consequence of what such a desire would cost.


    Nor, however, did I give a fuck.¡¯


    A.A. Vol. ?. Ch ?.


    ***


    I departed from Eotrom shortly after my talk with Doyle and Olga. Like the astronauts of the Apollo Missions, I spent three days in the void of space, diving- accelerating towards the vibrant world under the influence of gravity. The only difference was the dilated time. It took three days from the perspective of those on the Mortal Plane, assuming they even could see me. From my perspective, however, the trip was only a few hours.


    In either case, it was enough time for the Owl to move down the Rogue and Sorcery Paths, granting many painful changes to my body that I was still coming to terms with, even though the Owl had far more time to contemplate it with him overseeing Archie¡¯s work.


    While he was bored enough to look for wicked souls, I was eager to finally begin learning how to create enchantments. And so, after those long and contemplative hours in the void, I landed near the border of Vrur and Bakewia with a wide and excitable grin plastered across my face. At least until I heard the sounds of unsheathing swords and readying bows behind me.


    ¡°Hail!¡±


    ***


    Lord Maurice Garchid.


    ***


    ¡°Ahh.¡±


    It was about time I took a rest. Traveling from Shujen to Bakewia was a lucrative endeavor in terms of data. But oh, was it dangerous. Orcs and goblins and barbaric humans ran abound. The Walking Monks and, rarely, drow. The Wizarding Republic of Knighilia was somehow just as bad, as it was as if the barbarians of Shujen held the prowess of wizards. In comparison, the fields of western Vrur were tame. That was not to say they weren¡¯t dangerous, however, for they often held a far more dangerous entity. Divine beasts. Regardless of that fact, here I was just outside the border of Bakewia, resting the weary legs of my horses so that I could make the last leg by nightfall.


    Of course, my cloud-watching session was cut short.


    ¡°Well met, traveler.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, Gods.¡± I groaned, resisting the urge to turn, only to see an elven woman in a proud set of brown and green armor; the likeness of a unicorn carved into a holy pendant hanging from her neck. Another woman and a man stood to either side of her, dressed in the leafed tunics and brambled headdresses of a ranger and a druid respectively. ¡®Fucking adventurers.¡¯ I mentally spat. ¡°I am a Lord of the Garchid House of Bakewia and a Licensed Artificer. No.¡± I sighed heartily. ¡°I don¡¯t need an escort.¡±


    ¡°By Caelarin¡¯s grace, none do.¡± The cleric spoke in a Rharian accent thicker than frozen molasses. I studied her curiously, groaning in distaste as she bowed in greeting. ¡°Unfortunately, your Lordship, I must inform you that a battle is to take place here. It is paramount to your safety that you leave at once.¡±


    I began to protest until I looked off to the side to see a seasoned fighter and an armored paladin with many scars talking amongst themselves while pointing to various regions of the featureless plains.


    ¡°Fucking adventurers.¡± I physically spat. ¡°You think you can do whatever you please? That¡¯s a main road!¡± I pointed just a few dozen meters away. ¡°Take your bloody battle to Shujen like everyone else for fuck¡¯s sake! Or better yet, go back to Rhar where you came from!¡±


    ¡°I am afraid such a decision isn¡¯t ours to make. And¡­¡± The Cleric calmly said, then paused, looking down with a guilty eye. ¡°We cannot."


    ¡°No.¡± I stood my ground.


    ¡°We¡¯ll pay you for your troubles.¡± The Ranger approached, offering a clumpy bag.


    I nearly swatted her hand aside. ¡°I don¡¯t want your blood money! I want you to fuck off!¡±


    ¡°Calm, Sir!¡± The druid stepped forward this time. ¡°Our intentions are well and just. Someone dangerous is coming and we mean to intercept them.¡±


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    ¡°Incoming!¡± The paladin from afar yelled, cutting their words to silence immediately. As one, they turned to him and after following his gaze, turned their widened eyes up in horror.


    ¡°Hah!¡± I laughed. ¡°If you¡¯re really a bunch a¡¯ doer wells, let¡¯s see you protect me from this big bad thing you¡¯re all so scared off.¡± Steadily chuckling to myself, I looked up to try and spot the object of their fear. Instead, I saw only a black streak conjure a powerful gale that lasted for but a moment. When I looked down, no longer was I laughing or smiling. My eyes widened just as much, if not more so than the seasoned warriors around me.


    Equal parts confusion and primal fear swirled through my body and mind, for I first saw a pair of feet spaced apart at eye level. Finely crafted boots, they were. As thin as a second layer of skin that reached above the ankles. Smoke-gray pants, stitched with a fine quilted pattern tucked into those boots cleanly, permitting the trousers to be free and flowing over the thin frame of an elf. A gilded sash separated the trousers from the bottom seam of a similarly quilted tunic; of a smoky gray color with white stitchings. In and of itself, the tunic seemed to be imbued with machinery or, at the very least, metal plates around the yoke and stand collar. Otherwise, the only design seen was the impossibly black tree spread across the front; a trim of gold surrounding every leafless branch.


    But the thing that was most peculiar to my eyes was the long coat trailing upwards as if the ground was the sky. So similar it was, to the standard garb worn by the professionals who so often handled corrosive and dangerous substances- like mine. It held the same color pattern as the rest of his clothes- his artificer¡¯s cloak- but it boasted a collar of gilded feathers that hugged his neck tightly.


    But¡­ the thing that was most terrifying to my eyes was the visage of the being who wore such finely made apparel. A dark elf. But the iris of his eyes were as white as snow while what was normally the whites of the eyes were impossibly black. And at the center of those indifferent orbs were pupils not unlike those read about in many texts throughout the lands. Almost exactly. They appeared almost exactly like the eyes of a dragon. But, no dragon with eyes of such color was ever recorded. And certainly, no drow held such eyes. At least, not before today.


    I was glad I stayed.


    Using some unknown magic, the strange, black-haired drow used some strange magic to flip himself right side up and place his feet gently on the ground. Prompting the cleric to usher me behind them while the ranger stomped his way.


    ¡°Hail!¡±


    ¡°Hey.¡± The under-elf said nonchalantly.


    ¡°Are you the one they call Amun?¡±


    ¡°Amun?¡± I muttered, noting the resemblance for the first time. ¡°From the Bodhi Tree?¡±


    ¡°We care not where he is from.¡± The ranger grimly stated. By this time, the paladin had approached while the others continued distancing themselves as much as possible. Ensuring I came along with them.


    ¡°And if I am?¡± the strange drow- Amun, calmly asked.


    ¡°Then, in the name of Caelarin, you will perish for your crime, Unicorn Slayer!¡± The paladin seethed.


    A snort of a laugh came through his nose, though his expression didn¡¯t change as he flicked his eyes between the seasoned warriors; and then, to me. ¡°If I may ask a question,¡± he said, turning back to the party, ¡°why, presuming I¡¯m this¡­ Unicorn Slayer, would I waste my time fighting the likes of you?¡±


    ¡°Do not assume we will let you leave!¡± The paladin growled.


    ¡°Do not assume you could stop me from leaving.¡± Amun laughed. Then looked around at the party.


    ¡°Yes, my name is Amun. Amun, of the Nox.¡± He nodded proudly after several anxious moments. ¡°And, not that it matters to you, but I killed Carbury only in self-defense. If that''s enough reason to come for my life then so be it. But, like I said.¡± He said heavily, draining the humor from his visage in a single breath. ¡°I don¡¯t have much time to waste fighting weaklings.


    ¡°I do, however, have a lot of energy to burn. So.¡± He smiled manically and with an open mouth, allowing a disturbingly long and thin tongue to unfurl from his mouth and hang loosely below his chin as he growled. ¡°Dig your graves.¡±


    His words continued, but in a hauntingly fiendish tongue that warped the world around me, slowing the party''s actions down to a crawl while my eyes absorbed every detail before me. Though I still couldn¡¯t move and though I felt as if I¡¯d been taken leagues away, I could perceive their movements with the greatest acuity imaginable.


    The drow- Amun acted first, stomping with a shout from the heavens that bellowed, "Susanoo. Release!"


    A blast of blue encompassed his frame with those words and dissipated to reveal a dark elf with lightning-fueled scars carved through his skin and hair, bright white and standing on end. He pushed forward lightly, darting a few meters forward and up into the air in the blink of an eye before he returned to the ground in a crash of lightning and singed earth. While most of the party scattered with the winds, a second lunge put him across a dozen meters and left him sliding to a halt before the paladin with a leg cocked and primed to kick into the armored knee.


    Though his own leg was smashed to hell, Amun persisted with a one-two-three thunder kick to the paladin''s hips, ribs, and head, halting his momentum and leaving him suspended in midair before he spun into a final kick, blasting the paladin toward the ranger.


    Another flash of lightning and scattering rocks came before the paladin even landed in a mess of gore and crackling blue energy. By then, Amun had appeared above the ranger, his leg poised overhead while he somersaulted at a furious pace, inching ever closer to the ranger¡¯s unknowing head.


    Even with my perception slowed as such, I could hardly keep track of the heel as it made contact. It only appeared as a spinning wheel of lightning that caused the panicked face to simply vanish on contact. Only then, did I turn my eyes away to see large bolts arcing through the air as slowly as if they were being carried by the hand of a running child. From the point of their origin, I could see the fighter suffering from the recoil of his heavy crossbow. Meanwhile, the distorted prayers of the cleric, now behind me, came crawling into my ear as they attempted to cross the seemingly impossible distance to aid the mangled paladin.


    That was when the magic bloomed.


    Arcana. The potent energy that made elves among the most powerful beings in existence poured through the environment like wildfire. But I saw no effect until a blot of red and silver streaked past me.


    The paladin¡¯s mangled body, accelerating under some unknown force, smacked loudly against the fighter and his heavy crossbow before continuing through the trees, showering the fields with a spray of wood and red mist. Like with the ranger, I saw the crash in vivid detail. Like with the ranger, it was as if the fighter wasn¡¯t even there to begin with. As if they had blinked and reappeared a dozen meters away in a mangled mess of glowing energy.


    A splash of blood pulled my eyes towards the cleric, the last remaining assailant.


    Her body was bowed from the impact of a thunderous kick that smashed her arm into her ribs, shattering them both. Blood gushed from her mouth like a crimson waterfall, spewing forth from her ribs like a geyser as she flew away from the recoil. And the drow, ever agile, lunged forward to cross the distance in the blink of an eye.


    In the span of another blink, they were meters higher in the air. He, floating with his arms crossed defiantly, and her, floating; her arms and legs impaled unnaturally into her torso by some unknown crushing force. His lips moved with words I couldn¡¯t hope to hear. And then¡­


    Gone, she was. Disappeared by the brightest flash to befall my eyes accompanied by the largest bolt of lightning I had ever seen. Then all was calm. All was quiet.


    The wind once again blew softly on the pink-stained snow and the drow remained in the blue and white sky, staring blankly at the now-empty space before him as he slowly raised his hand from his side.


    One by one, what remained of the bodies lifted from the ground and surrounded him. He muttered again. And then came a brighter flash, one that remained in the sky like a lantern or a smaller, third sun until it suddenly blinked out of existence.


    There were no bodies when time resumed its pace. None except Amun, floating above several craters that hadn¡¯t been there before, a bemused expression across his face until, strangely, he smiled at me. And with a salute, he flew off into the distance.


    Only then did I breathe. Only then did I smell the hot stench in the air and feel the warmth in my trousers. But I remained there for minutes all the same. I remained there for hours trying to process what I just saw. I remained for hours more to muster the courage to get up and go home. And yet, it took seconds to decide on the most important fact of the day.


    I saw nothing of this battle. I heard nothing of this battle. And, by the gods, I would say nothing of this battle for as long as I drew breath into my lungs.

 250 - Sigils and Chisels

    3rd of Ianua, 1491.


    Eldereach County, Protectorate of Bakewia.


    8:12 AM.


    [Grandmaster Artificer, Step 7 - Grandmaster Alchemist.]


    [To continue the path towards becoming a Grandmaster Artificer, you must learn the Basics of Enchanting by mastering the use of the Mana Scalpel and Mana Chisel, then learn enough of the art to carve your first ten Sigils.]


    ***


    Though I wasn¡¯t stressed or traumatized, that little exercise served as both a catharsis and a warm-up to prepare me for the most-anticipated day of my second life. Not to mention, it gave me some surprise tools that would come in handy later.


    I was across the border and nearly to Bakewia¡¯s capital within five minutes, streaking above the main road and over three cities of magnificent spires and wide winding roads. But all of them were tame in comparison to the city of Shavew.


    Sitting atop a delta that fed into a bay that opened up into the Western World Sea, Shavew was a port city that blended the aesthetics of multiple fictional genres. There were, of course, the horses, carriages, spires, and castles of any fantasy setting. But with so many magical creations it blurred the lines of science fiction. Stoneless aqueducts trailed through the city, the water flowing on enchanted ley lines that flowed into domiciles from chimney-like points to settle into unseen cisterns. Many more of them boasted boats and ferries that carried people to and from the various districts.


    There were no sidewalks or pedestrian walkways, I came to learn after crossing into the airspace proper. Only plates and platforms were found at the end of the city blocks. Enchantments meant to imbue civilians with a number of magical effects that all gave them the same ability. Flight.


    Already possessing such an ability, I meandered along with the crowds of drifting humans, gnomes, dwarves, and other species to soak in the view with my divinely wicked eyes. Like any port city, docks were hugging the waters to the northwest. Of all places, however, the Harbor Districts were the least impressive. They seemed to focus heavily on riverboats. Not a surprise when remembering the pirates operating around the Peninsula''s shores. It would only make sense that the magical trinkets pouring in and out of Bakewia and its northern neighbor, Knighilia, would be prime targets.


    Across the bridge to the northeast, however, was the region I entered from. Priest Bridge. Named after the rows of chapels, temples, and churches that stretched past the great arched entrance and the magnificent bridge at its end, granting clear views of the semi-frozen waters in the far distance. The Dawn Bowl was behind these grand buildings, where the nobility dwelled. Shielded from the hustle and bustle of the streets by the temples on the northeastern side and the river leading inland on the opposing side. Like most nobles, they even had a private gate facing directly south. Aptly named the Sunrise Gate.


    Regardless, I had nothing to see here. And so, I continued over the bridge, arriving at a fork with a market wedged between. To my right was the Harbor District while the left led south down Sunset Bank. An extension of the market, I soon realized after making my way down the lane. The stalls, stores, and stands increased in intensity with each step while the residences piled up on the rising hills leading to the west, giving them a great view over the frozen waters of the bay and an even greater view over the town.


    It struck me as odd that the nobles would forsake such prime real estate. But after seeing the stables and barracks of the military around the bend, I began smiling under the assumption that the ruling party, or at least the military commander, wasn¡¯t an idiot. My assumption was only doubled when I spotted my destination sitting adjacent to it. If the craft was as dangerous as it¡¯s been implied, they did well to have the up-and-coming artificers under close supervision of the military.


    Within seconds, I was stopped before the strangest building in the strangest city I¡¯ve ever found myself in. It was the sole structure in the city composed entirely of wood. And not only that but it looked like a miniature Bodhi Tree. Not to say it was small. Only, in comparison to the actual tree, it was.


    When I entered, the gnomish assistant either didn¡¯t notice my new eyes or didn¡¯t particularly care. He mostly paid attention to something behind his desk I didn¡¯t care to see and ordered another gnome to show me to my quarters after verifying my Identity with the Bodhi brooch. This gnome was a bit more talkative. But only because she had to tell me the house rule. Essentially, we could not leave until we received our license. Though we would still be given passes to go about the town and procure equipment. So, if we had any other classes to pursue, it was best we worked quickly.


    I assured her it would be no issue and she handed off a pair of tomes with the instructions to read and understand the material. Then she was off.


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    The room granted to me was a quaint bedroom with a partitioned section that doubled as a lab. Other than that, there was a door sitting opposite the bathroom. One that I assumed to be a storage area until the gnarled surface of the door peeled apart to reveal a familiar face.


    ¡°Is this how it¡¯s been for you this whole time?¡± Ed waved his book in the air with a despaired laugh. ¡°One glance and you remember everything?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much.¡± I shrugged, then laughed as he fell into further despair over the side effects of one little blessing. ¡°That said,¡± I smirked as I plopped myself down with my tomes. ¡°I still like to take my time and read now and again.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± He turned away, chortling as he waved over his shoulder. ¡°Well, I¡¯m gonna check up on the others. Let ''em know you¡¯re here. Oh.¡± He turned with a childish grin. ¡°Nice eyes. Real scary.¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡± I laughed, shaking my head, and once he was truly gone, I released my animal companions from my shadow and lit up my pipe to begin reading.


    After opening a few windows, of course.


    Of course, I was enthralled with the findings. It was as I suspected when I was younger. The art involved imbuing a finely tuned spell into an object via crafting sigils onto the crystal. The sigils, intricate though they were, represented simple facets of the enchantment- or ways the spell was to function. These were called the Six Aspects of Enchanting.


    The first was the Base, which determined whether the power source was to ''ebb'' or ''flow.'' In other words, if the enchantment was to use a measured portion of mana until it ran dry or outright stream mana from the environment in a constant fashion. Of course, each had its pros and cons. The former was the enchantment¡¯s power being limited by the wielder¡¯s Mana Well and density and the latter being limited by the ambient mana of the region. Here in Bakewia, that was somewhere in the Slush region. The added con, however, was that in a denser region, the ambient energies could affect the other aspects.


    The second Aspect was the Scale while the third was the Intensity. In terms of an illumination enchantment, which commonly used fire, Scale was the size of the fireball, correlating to its luminosity, while Intensity correlated to the heat output. One was cranked up high while the other was tuned low to create the equivalent of a light bulb.


    Following those were the effective Range and Rate of Operation. That was to say, the Range was the distance, direction, and duration of the enchantment in terms of the spatial-temporal coordinates of x, y, z, and t. Meanwhile, the latter determined if the enchantment¡¯s operation was to be instantaneous, periodic, timed, or constant.


    Lastly was the Trigger and, though not an Aspect, the Quarrel was just as important. With the former being self-explanatory, the latter was the architecture or object that was to be enchanted. Much like a bolt for a crossbow, the Quarrel was the most important aspect to consider, as its design had to account for the enchantment from the start. Likewise, the enchantment had to be made to such a size as to fit the object in the first place. It was, in short, where the energy was to be sent after all.


    That was only the beginning, however. Each aspect was essentially a unique language. Each had its own ¡®Standard,¡¯ or base designs, but there were hundreds of characters among the aspects to learn and use to fine-tune enchantments to unfathomable degrees. Rather than just learn, I decided to update my blueprints and opened my mental app with glee.


    With the added knowledge, I went through every file in BluLine, creating sigil arrays for the many enchanted items I''d already designed, and used my inspiration to create hundreds more. When that was done, I moved on to the other apps to design more and used those designs to come up with more enchantments that could facilitate the creation of those designs. Designs for terraforming. Enchantments for designing weapons and gear and habitats and magical technology. Enchantments for entertainment and of course, logistics.


    By lunch, I had a completely updated database in my second mind and after wolfing down a fine meal, I followed the signs and lines to the study room to meet the excitable gnome. After- what was by now- a customary double take, she resumed her normal, boisterous greeting and pulled me aside from a concentrating Ed to give me a short lecture on the tools and medium of the trade.


    Aptly so, the tools were likened to a blend of clay and stone sculpting tools. A chisel, hammer, and scalpel, all made of mana in a way dissimilar to the mana forging known to be used by elves. On the contrary, it was similar to the Mana Hand technique used by wizards and sorcerers or anyone else with a strong grasp of mana molding. If there was any difference, Zoop told me, it was the shape of the tools I molded out of mana that mattered. A skill that required fine control. Doubly so once I began carving crystals.


    After she digressed, she went on to reiterate that, unlike a magically imbued weapon, enchantment crystals acted as a self-contained spell that was meant to be cast on or through an object. The sigils influenced how the spell behaved, essentially making it a custom spell. While effective, the con was that enchantments had one specific use in comparison to the broad or generalized effect of a magical weapon.


    Though it was agreed upon to be a crystal, the medium was said to be a homogeneous mix of metal, stone, and energy that would congeal to form a raw crystal. Thus the hammer and chisel was the preferred tool to shape and carve into it. As such, our task was to master this technique and use it on a mountain of inert crystals to create ten sigils as quickly as possible. But, being not only half-drow but the walking God of Mana, it took me literal seconds to master the technique and begin carving away. And Ed, after a subtle blessing, only minutes more.


    Seconds, it could¡¯ve been, but he preferred to play as if he caught on to my actions. Not that Zoop was paying attention. Still, though, I didn¡¯t let the accomplishment get to me. Instead, I tinkered and experimented and created as many different types of chisels, hammers, scalpels, and other instruments as possible. Then went to work on the test medium to compare them all and find the most efficient model. And when that was done, I went to work practicing every sigil found in the book. Lost in the joy of fulfilling my lifelong goals until Zoop came to tap on my shoulder.

 251 - Roses of Industry

    [Grandmaster Artificer. Step 7, Grandmaster Alchemist - Task Complete.]


    [Reward - [Sigil Scroll] - In a new section of your Grimoire lies a scroll detailing the specifics of every sigil you have ever studied or carved.]


    [Reward - Active Skill: [Repair.] Using mana, any inanimate, non-magical object can be cleaned, maintained, or repaired using a combination of focus and mana molding, so long as the original pieces are within range.]


    [Grandmaster Artificer. Step 8, Basic Enchanter]


    [To continue down the path of the Grandmaster Artificer, you must gain proficiency in enchanting by imbuing 100 crystals with enchantments.]


    ----


    For whatever reason, I¡¯d been rereading the perks in my grimoire ever since Zoop tapped on my shoulder to confirm I¡¯d been promoted. Her pride nearly exceeded mine. A part of me believed it did, based on her nearly forgetting to give me further instructions. They came in the form of two lists. One was a shopping list of components that were already found in excess within my shadow. The other was a to-do list of places and things that needed repairing around the district to get me acquainted with the new perk.


    Indeed, it was the first and perhaps the only time I would be permitted outside the grounds. Not just for these lists, she made sure to remind us. We were meant to do a little recreational shopping and enjoy some downtime as well. We had the whole day. And she highly advised us to use the entirety of it.


    ¡°After you get some sleep that is.¡± She wagged her finger at me as she turned away with a laugh. ¡°Not that we need much. Children of the Fae, we are.¡±


    With that, I gathered Skoll and Hati and walked through the night, using the light of the moon to check up on the Legion¡¯s members from afar and otherwise fiddle with the apps until Ed woke from his slumber. By dawn, I was back at the building and leaving once again with Ed, Els, Forgruna, and Matthew plus an entourage of house cats trailing behind us.


    ¡°Uh, is this gonna happen often?¡± Els groaned with discomfort.


    ¡°They¡¯ll leave once the sun fully rises.¡± I offered.


    ¡°And then the dogs will come,¡± Forgruna muttered, prompting a short growl of a retort from Skoll.


    Deciding to live it up a little, I pointed towards a building nearby to if anyone wanted breakfast. With no protest, we took a boat over, crossing the floating river in a quick minute that caused the dwarves immense uneasiness until the fresh aromas I sensed earlier wafted into their noses.


    The restaurant was placed on a corner lot and fashioned comically to look like a chef¡¯s hat. It was two restaurants, to be precise. A bakery and an artisanal grill house complete with an angry old man of a regular customer in front of the counter having a casual conversation with the baker while he threw disapproving gazes at the crowd.


    ¡°See ya, Wilson.¡± The baker, an elvish man with skin as gold as his bread, waved as the man with salt and paprika hair trailed off. Only for us to approach moments later, capturing his interest.


    We ordered quickly and received our breakfast within moments. Steak and eggs for Matthew and the same for Els and Forgruna, plus a few heaping servings of dwarven ale each. Ed and I, on the other hand, opted for a light breakfast of grilled fish with the finest bread I¡¯d ever tasted paired with the juice of unnamed summer fruits that gave us just as much warmth as the dwarven ale. Our conversations were amiable and varied, if unspecific and, not to be crass, but pointless. Of course, we discussed what creations we would soon design. However, seeming to wordlessly agree to smell the roses, there was no talk about the Legions or subordinates or- other than our projects- our classes.


    Instead, we discussed the city.


    It gave me great ideas for the future that I couldn¡¯t wait to begin testing and creating prototypes for. Much the same was true for Ed. Although he refused to elaborate on what abstract creations were brewing in his mind as much as I did. Of course, the dwarves hated it. Everything about the place was unnatural, they said. Streets where people flew. Roads where boats trudged along in the skies. It was unnatural. And they insisted on believing as much no matter how much we reminded them that they claimed entire planets in Eotrom.


    Matthew, however, was on the fence. It was a grandiose place, he assured us. But it seemed¡­ cramped. Congested. Despite being several dozen kilometers long. He couldn¡¯t quite place it. And so, he likened it to being spoiled by the scale of Epethia and then Eotrom. Notions I could only agree with.


    Therein brought along a new subject, however. Eotromenian Materials. Specifically, the materials infused with the essence of the Divine Engineer. Given the nature of the subject, however, it wasn¡¯t much of a conversation more than a quiet breakfast filled with groans and grimaces and excited gasps. At least on the outside. On the inside, the Credence Cortex allowed each of them to see illusory renderings of the various materials, plants, and most importantly, the animals; all matched with my descriptions being drowned out by a cacophony of voices wowing at the otherworldly materials and arguing on about nomenclature.


    That said, we did come to agree on one thing. That the animals of Ilium would be used sparingly by the highest-ranking legionaries and their domains, including our comrades in Maru. The reason was that they were responsible for bringing the vast majority of the exotic materials into existence. Ilium¡¯s tree of life was, in effect, bionic. There existed an entire food chain of reptiles, mammals, birds, insects, bottom feeders, and every other creature one could imagine. An ecosystem of anti-entropic creatures, aside from the decomposers who broke down structures and machines molecule by molecule to return the elements to nature with a bionic twist.


    From the waste of those bottom-feeding Recycling Drones came elemental flora. Fields of grasses imbued with oils and water. Trees made of ores and minerals. Flowers that bore gaseous crops. All feasted upon by the primary consumers- the augmented herbivores and insects- to develop their systems with molecular manufacturing akin to a developing body diving its cells. It was the primary consumers'' need for safety that gave them their namesake, however. With their preference to take up a residence in or around machines and feast on the bionic flora created by Recycling Drones, they developed a symbiotic relationship with machines in the same way small fish would spend their lives trailing whales and sharks. And though the materials they feasted on were relatively valuable, they were of such small portions that with even a large swarm, it would have made no impact.


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    Of course, they were preyed upon by the secondary consumers. The smallest predators, the non-predatory omnivores, and the scavengers. But only as a supplement. In all cases, the Processing Drones were the only creatures that actively consumed natural resources. Albeit the inorganic or inedible parts such as wood, dirt, and stone. With the materials ingested, they not only developed themselves but formed simple habitats using what we would consider waste materials. In turn shitting out ingots of augmented metal, sharting semi-sentient sand, or pissing exotic fluids that quite unsettlingly amassed in rivers and lakes over time.


    Quite amusingly, some of the ¡®waste¡¯ generated by the Processing Drones and the tertiary consumers themselves was used to construct complex structures that doubled as their habitats. Such as the augmented eagle, shown to have built radar dishes around its territory to observe its prey from the safety of its nest; in turn, making a haven for the many creatures beyond its dietary range.


    For those the Construction Drones did consume or to the unfortunate specimens who ventured into the territory of the aggressive types, their bodies were cannibalized to grow and install more capabilities within and around themselves; in turn excreting everything from concrete paddies to ¡®pellets¡¯ of magnetic nuts, bolts, or screws.


    The apex predators were much the same, constructing vast lairs for themselves using materials we could never use. But their greatest merit came from the rarity of their waste. Being so efficient, they rarely shat or urinated. But when they did, what came out was often sentient. Or at the very least, exceptionally divine.


    Just as we agreed to keep the animals within our domains, we agreed not to indiscriminately spread the materials of the realm across the Planes. Many of them were either too volatile, dangerous, or mind-breaking. Or, there simply wasn¡¯t enough to throw to waste. In either case, they would only be distributed to the Legion''s Imperators and their sworn allies. A few, however, had the potential to bring great change to this realm and the many we would visit beyond. More so, they were found in gross abundance and thus were deemed fit for controlled distribution.


    One material in particular, I fought tooth and nail to name Vehsipane, or the Variable Engine High Specific Impulse Propellant. It only made sense, after all. And the other names offered were genuinely barbaric. Nevertheless, the super fuel excited Ed to no end. And, of course, me.


    One of the most prominent species of fungus was another example. A phosphorescent species that could emit digital light rather than visible light and thus was dubbed the Digishroom. With a simple circuit, anything from a clock, to an image, or a video could be emitted like a screen or projected onto a surface. And their ability to grow in any indoor space made them quite versatile indeed.


    Of all the other materials, only three fit the bill of wholesale distribution. The first of them was the Repair Vines. Reaching plants that preferred to grow inside of abandoned structures to feed off of entropy itself, it seemed. Thus repairing whatever hut or shack it claimed before it dissolved into pores to be carried away to the next structure. The second was what seemed to be marble coated in hydrophobic dust. Upon closer inspection, however, the marble was revealed to have antibacterial properties and more, the dust was revealed to be composed of cleaning nanites that would not just sterilize, but physically clean whatever room they were laid in. Last and perhaps most fascinating was the Silver Screen; or augmented silver. Even a small piece could emit or project a digital screen of varying size; something I intended to use heartily.


    As did the others, it seemed, as the mental conversations died down soon after the materials had been sorted through. Soon after, breakfast was finished, and the roses had been sniffed, so I distributed blessings to them before we went about the town or back to the guild to continue moving down our paths.


    As Zoop instructed, that implied going to the Priests Gate to approach broken fences, shattered windows, cracked pavement, and other such sites to focus the ambient mana around. Strangely enough, it required us to use a portion of energy from our wells, which was where the focus part came in, as it required us to resist the natural tendency for the energy to flow into our affinity cores and allow it to pour from our bodies instead. Over the wood, glass, and stone the energy went, infused with the abstract visions of our mind that willed the grains and glass and gravel to reform unnaturally before our eyes.


    Or rather, that¡¯s what Ed had to do. Over and over, until it became second nature.


    I, on the other hand, couldn¡¯t help but radiate divine mana every time I attempted to try. Not only fixing the object of my focus but cleaning and straightening everything within a few dozen meters as well. Even then, we spent half the day cleaning up town just because. So after a detour through the Sunset Bank for more of that mind-shattering bread, Ed and I meandered to the guild hall in the West District, stopping in and out of stores or shop fronts while we broke out in business talk for the first time for the day.


    Using a bit of moonlight, I sent him a vision of a quaint town of only nine thousand souls not too far away. Specifically of a large church-like building overlooking the town of Winwell. ¡°My next object of interest,¡± I answered Ed¡¯s inquisitive gaze. But it only intensified.


    ¡°An orphanage?¡± He asked skeptically.


    ¡°The father, or whatever he is, is struggling in more than one way. First, he has a child he can hardly care for plus a few delinquents.¡±


    ¡°You want them in your party?¡± He squinted as if he had me all figured out.


    I shrugged with my hands and laughed. Because of course, he had. ¡°You know me so well.¡± I chuckled. ¡°But the other problem is one of finances.¡±


    ¡°So, they need a sponsor?¡± Ed scratched his chin, and a dubious grin spread across his face a moment later. ¡°I would imagine a nice school to teach the kids how to be engineers will do them some good.¡±


    By the time we returned, a solid plan was formulated and we got some shopping done to boot. I wound up using all my points from last year on as many crystals as I could purchase. Even if most of them were of low quality, they would undoubtedly serve me well as prototypes until I learned to make them for myself. Aside from that, I purchased a slew of fabrics, textiles, seeds, tools, and ingredients or materials that ranged from feathers and hides to magical ores and tomes and of course, drugs. I also managed to visit a few libraries and spent a few minutes scanning through as many interesting books as I could find. Books on local history, magical theories, strange beasts, points of interest, myths, and legends. And, not to mention, pantheons.


    Once we stepped back into the wooden halls of magic, however, it was back to the grind. Our next task was to imbue 100 crystals with enchantments. Yet, I was aiming for ten times that number. That said, the subguild provided us with orders for over a hundred basic enchantments and provided 120 crystals for our testing. Not that it mattered. The two of us dove into work like a starving predator would to a fresh carcass.


    Suddenly, I felt nostalgic and remembered the times with Grandpa Lich when we¡¯d spend hours priming enchantments with death and darkness. Only, it was Ed sitting across from me; and our conversations varied from the notable events of the past year to what was going on in Hill Base and even the prospects of the far future.


    Eventually, the sun went to sleep and he followed soon after. Yet I continued throughout the night, sleeping only after I carved the last sigil on my 1,120th enchantment and saw the arcane words of my grimoire floating beside me in wait.

 252 - The Art of the Craft

    Amun.


    [Grandmaster Artificer: Step 8, Basic Enchanter - Task Complete.]


    [Reward - Skill: [Enchanter¡¯s Intuition] - By gazing upon the sigils of any enchantment, you can see the quality of its carving as a colored aura. Shoddy = Red. Adequate = Orange. Fine = Yellow. Exceptional = Green. Pristine = Blue. Immaculate = Purple.]


    [Reward - Active Skill: [Disassemble.] Using the mana coaxed from your well, any inanimate, non-magical item or object can be deconstructed into its constituent components.]


    [Grandmaster Artificer: Step 9, Intermediate Enchanter: To continue down the path of mastering the art of enchanting, you must create 100 Fine-Grade Crystals.]


    ***


    By the time I awoke from my meditation, completed my daily training, and had my morning smoke after breakfast, Ed was throwing another crystal into a hefty pile and teased that I had a lot of catching up to do.


    With no grounds on which to argue, I entered the workshop to sit through another of Zoop¡¯s excitable lectures and found myself thankful to have a teacher as interested in the craft as I was. More interested than I was. For even I wouldn¡¯t want to repeat the same lecture for a single student.


    But I digress.


    The lesson revolved around a simple fact that I had hypothesized but still couldn¡¯t wrap my head around. Enchantment crystals were not found or even produced by natural processes. They were creations; and the recipe was volatile indeed, making it far too easy to understand why one needed a grand mastery of alchemy before even attempting to enchant something.


    ¡°One half of the recipe is as follows.¡± Zoop cheekily began with a wave of the hand, conjuring illusions that displayed approximate measurements and renderings of the named materials. ¡°Measured in a ratio of one part each is Gold Dust, powdered Alchemical Silver, and Dusted Diamond. Measured in a ratio of two parts each is Infused Quartz, as well as pulverized Dark Crystals mixed with the standard ratios of Sulfur, Carbon, and Saltpeter used in the manufacture of Boom Powder. These materials are to be mixed with two parts Distilled Water.


    "The second half of the recipe is to be prepared in a separate container. It consists of dissolving five parts of Faerie Flax Seeds into one portion of Royal Water; or nitrohydrochloric acid. Once both mixtures are prepared, both are to be grasped with mana." She emphasized by rising onto her tip-toes. "With mana, both solutions are to be mixed until homogeneous. At this time, it will become like a stringy dough with bulbous points that you must then spread and knead into the desired shape of your crystal before you compress it. Finalizing its shape.


    ¡°That,¡± Zoop spread her arms wide and smiled ever wider, ¡°is the art behind the craft, for there is no truly agreed-upon form for which the crystal should take shape. However, some are inherently more stable than others. You may find one shape can hold more or less power or range than another. The variations are potentially limitless. And that,¡± she pointed. ¡°Is what makes this all so exciting.


    ¡°So.¡± She waved her little arms in a dismissive motion. ¡°Go on. See what shape suits you best.¡±


    She didn¡¯t have to slap me in the face with a wet mop to get me to leave, for I was nearly out the door before her gesture was complete. I was practically skipping down the hall while any and everything I knew of geometry was pulled from the Eternal Eye and brought to the forefront of my mind.


    A stringy dough with bulbous points. For whatever reason, geometry was the first thing my mind drifted to upon hearing those words; the second being baking. That said, her lecture seemed... off to me. It was almost as if it was incomplete or, dare I say, a lie. Knowing elves, I knew, at the very least, there was more to the process than what they told the humans.


    Or, in this case, the gnomes.


    After considering the divine aphids and the core annexes, it became clear to me that the elves had some sort of magical technology that most likely blurred the line with biotech. Either that or whatever they used hijacked life entirely. But I considered that to be unlikely. Regardless, Ed¡¯s inquiry upon my return led me to realize I¡¯d been inadvertently thinking ''aloud'' through the Credence Cortex, which in turn spurred a tangent filled with me describing biotech.


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    Being the nerd he was, Ed became engrossed in the words that poured from my mouth. He wanted to see it for himself, and truth be told, so did I, as the biotech I envisioned the elves had could only have been held by aliens on the outside- and not the kind that evolved from humans. If they even existed, those other kinds of aliens. The humans of Nonus, on the other hand, were taint-deep into the industrial revolution. Maru was lower. When anyone would move up the ladder of technological progression was up for debate. But it was that thought that brought me back to the fundamental building blocks of the universe.


    I had doubts that they had a grasp of even molecular theories. So, with the data packets of geometry, bio-engineering, and particle physics hovering in the forefront of my mind, I began producing holograms of different molecular arrangements and geometrical structures for the solution and spent hours upon hours upon hours experimenting.


    Silly, though it seemed, my experiments revealed that the consensus between the two of us was true. The most stable crystals in all regards were those with polyhedral shapes. Specifically, the Platonic Solids.


    In other words, they looked like dice.


    Four, six, eight, twelve, and twenty-faced solids were the most stable form of crystals among all those tested thus far. From our experiments thus far, it was safe to theorize that these solids had a baseline Exceptional Grade; at least when graded by Zoop''s scanning contraption. But still, our experiments continued.


    Even after the coveted words of black and gold appeared to cloud my vision, I dismissed them immediately and continued experimenting. As did Ed. We already knew what they had in store for us and more, he was curious about this game I mentioned after the epiphany regarding the dice.


    In the end, we found that the most stable arrangement wasn¡¯t to mold the doughy mixture into a Catalan or Archimedean, or even a Platonic solid- although those other two did have a baseline Pristine-Grade. On the contrary, the best method was to mold the ''dough'' into a tessellation. A lattice or, more aptly, a honeycomb of solids.


    The solids within were Catalan solids with angles of 70.529 degrees and 109.471 degrees, making 12-sided solids with rhombic faces rather than the pentagonal ones seen on a 12-sided die. In layman''s terms, the only crystal shape to have a baseline immaculate grade was a rhombic dodecahedral honeycomb. The result was a lumpy aggregation of crystals that could be separated by creating a fault along the edges. And by simply making the honeycomb larger or smaller, the crystals could range from planet-sized to nanoscale.


    That eureka moment served as the catalyst that made moving down the path far too easy. So much so that I hardly paid attention to the evolutions as I made the dice revelation to Ed.


    ¡°Many things in this universe are based on an immensely popular game. One of the most popular games of all time, in the later parts of history.¡± I told him. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if Telin used it as a template for this universe. He''s a nerd like you and me, after all.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Ed scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°I dunno what to think about that. To know that the universe is based on... a game.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn''t say it''s based on it." I tossed my head in contemplation. "More... ''inspired by.'' The creatures, I mean. I¡¯ve played it a few times. Though, not enough to call myself an expert. I can say, though, there are many, many similarities; yet twice as many differences. The way magic is used, for example. Manipulation and mana molding. Affinity cores. And the fact that, thankfully, ambiguous things like mana or health aren¡¯t quantified.¡±


    Ed turned his gaze up and squinted for several moments. ¡°How would that even work?¡± He scoffed. ¡°I understand within a game. But, in real life, you just¡­ lose one point and you¡¯re dead?¡±


    ¡°Or unconscious.¡± I snickered, shrugging.


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯d be a fan of that.¡± He laughed. ¡°But I¡¯m interested in the game. You should make it.¡±


    ¡°Eh.¡± I reluctantly shrugged. ¡°I mean, it would be kinda boring. Who would want to play a game about everyday¡­ life?¡± I trailed off as the blinding light of an idea burst forth. ¡°Or.¡± I leaned closer to Ed, grinning madly. ¡°I could make it about this universe''s version of fantasy. The fantastical reality you all see my former life as. A role-playing game, with characters possessing no magic or power, other than the technology created by humans.


    ¡°I¡¯ll call it, Spaceships and AI.¡±


    ***


    [Grandmaster Artificer: Step 9, Basic Enchanter - Task Complete.]


    [Reward: Passive Skill - [Enchanters Eye.] By gazing upon an enchantment Crystal, you can see the quality of its make represented as a colorful aura. Shoddy = Red. Adequate = Orange. Fine = Yellow. Exceptional = Green. Pristine = Blue. Immaculate = Purple.]


    [Reward: Active Skill: [Dismantle.] Using the mana coaxed from your well, large structures like bridges, vehicles, or buildings can be dismantled or deconstructed into easily recyclable parts.]


    [Grandmaster Artificer: Step 10 - Enchantment Crafter - To continue down the path of becoming a Grandmaster Artificer, you must create 1,000 enchantments of an Exceptional Grade or higher. 646/1,000]

 253 - The ArcaTech

    Zoop Zeelba.


    ***


    Never in all my years have I been so proud to hand out endorsements as I have with these two. Prodigies, they were! Touched by some God of Creation, they had to be. They had to be!


    They had to be¡­


    That was the only explanation for the abundance of divine magic flowing through the halls of this once-calm place. Calm for artificers, at least. Explosions and bursts of magic ticked like clocks in places like these. But nothing could so much as hold a candle to this prowess. And the other students didn¡¯t seem to mind, for they had it too. That strange and beautiful blue glow.


    I almost felt trepidation, moving through the guild for my daily passes. Why, I did not know. A gut feeling, perhaps it was. Something that told me that today would knock me off my feet for sure. And so, as eager as I was anxious, I moved through the compound to the forges and workshops.


    Within were the dwarves. Heralding from a legendary clan, Elsgril Silverforge was as dwarfy as a dwarf could get. He was a Grandmaster Weaponsmith like countless dwarves before him but the speed at which he churned weapons from his forge was unparalleled. Even the other dwarves were amazed by his seemingly limitless stamina. And they were the dwarves he arrived with. Indeed, the same was true for the Grandmaster Armorsmith, Forgruna Drakehorne.


    They became the talk of all dwarves in Shavew within days. Lured from afar by both the mountain of crafted items strewn about them and the strange songs they sang from lungs as powerful as their bellows, they came in droves. Like the vast majority of dwarves, however, they didn¡¯t allow anyone other than those they absolutely trusted to look at their creations. They guarded them furiously, much to my dismay.


    Luckily for me, they had no endorsements to receive. They only tested and passed a few trials that ensured they knew how enchantments were to fit inside their creations and that was that. So I happily trotted over to the wreckage yard instead, and that was a marvel. The machinations made by Matthew Reid, a Demolitionist, could blow through any defense, I was sure. He had everything. rock-sized balls of steel that could detonate in fantastic explosions. Wires that could detonate other things in fantastic explosions. A block of mud that could detonate in a fantastic explosion. And not to mention an assortment of cannons, barrels, and weird metal wands that could pack a mean punch from a distance.


    Naturally, it took a while to dodge the deafening shock waves to give him his endorsement; which he happily accepted and continued blowing any and everything he saw to smithereens as he laughed maniacally. And then¡­ it was onto the most anxiety-inducing room. The Halls of Enchantment.


    As I fully expected, that was where the true marvels were seen. The true wonders.


    The room was starkly empty when I entered. Only serving to add to the suspense while I put my limited investigative skills to use. The only sign of anyone being present was a single crystallization chamber closed and in use.


    It¡­ wasn¡¯t hard to miss. It looked like the pissing booths you see in rural areas. A trough with waist-high- to humans at least- walls that made for some privacy while the log leaked away. Modified in the sense that the trough was actually an enchanted table with a collapsible shield that allowed only Mana Hands to be used once closed. Explosion, corrosion, and all the other ¡®ion¡¯ proofs one could think of, it was the safest way to create enchantment crystals known to the realm. And, while they could be used without supervision, it was ill-advised.


    Fearful I¡¯d have to engage in a scolding session, I approached the glass and nearly fainted in place once I saw the impossible. Two tiny figures, both humanoid, were standing behind the enchanted glass before a massive blob of fluid.


    Mana- made visible due to one of the various enchantments in the chamber- was elongated in some places and compressed in others to form a lattice of lines and points that was spread all around them. Into those lines, the semi-amorphous fluid of volatile materials flowed and filled the lines and points before the energy suddenly ebbed, filling in the gaps entirely. It was compressed still, but only hardly. ¡®Stiffened,¡¯ would¡¯ve been the proper word to describe the process. Or better yet, coaxed into cooling into a solid shape by stilling the semi-solid fluid to rest.


    In the end, they stood before a lumpy sphere of sorts. But that was hardly worth noting. The astonishing part was that, comparatively, the crystal stood around five times their height. Like two men standing before a recovered object of legend, they stared with eyes of pride, accomplishment, wonder, and imagination as deeply as I stared at the purple glow pouring off the crystal. But then, Ed formed his mana scalpel, nicked a corner, and rested the head of his chisel in the groove. Then gave one powerful strike with his hammer.


    As if that legendary item had been made of glass, a thousand cracks rippled across the crystal¡¯s surface and it broke apart in a tremendous crash. Invoking a tidal wave of pale blue crystals to scatter across the vast floor of the otherwise small chamber until they crashed into the glass with a subtle vibration of the structure.


    Not being able to help it, I leaned forward to take a closer look at the sea of jewels and saw hundreds if not thousands of uniformly shaped crystals, each of them with twelve, neatly cut diamondoid faces shrouded in a purple aura. But the miraculousness continued still.


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    The chamber opened, spilling a few palm-sized- human palm-sized crystals onto the ground whilst simultaneously enabling Amun and Edward to step out of the spatially distorted box and grow to their proper forms in a mind-numbing scene.


    ¡°Spatial magic.¡± Amun cheekily explained in response to my shock.


    Of course, as a Grandmaster Artificer, I could also make pristine crystals. But not nearly as easily or even remotely as fast. Though I wanted to desperately ask, I dared not inquire about the trick to his trade, knowing full well the ferocity at which some artificers defended their secrets. So instead, I congratulated them both immensely on their work and gave them all the luck for their work to come. And with tears in my eyes, I held out my hand.


    ¡°These were due to you once you became Enchantment Creationists, they were!¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry! I am. I am! Forgive me, but you two had such drive in your eyes when you stepped through these doors and it never died, not once. Felt bad interrupting you, I did, yes I did!¡±


    With a pulse of energy, I summoned my sprite, the green leaf of the Bodhi Tree with the hammer, cauldron, tongs, and chisels of the trades. Catching along, the two lads before me did the same, spawning nightly spheres limned in lights of gold, silver, blue, and a beautiful oceanic green.


    ¡°Ah!¡± I beamed at the eccentric half-drow. ¡°You¡¯ve got your own sprite? You do! Yes, you do! How fantastic! A true guild, eh?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have a core annex yet.¡± Amun turned away from Edward¡¯s surprise with a charming shrug. "But yeah."


    ¡°Only a matter of time. Only a matter of time!" I waved it off and sent the mental command through.


    ¡°Is this like a business card?¡± Amun squinted at his sprite, now engraved with the same four symbols beside his name, endorsed with my credentials. A subtle but loud thing that declared him across all the realms as an approved entity to create and distribute enchantment crystals.


    ¡°It is, it is!¡± I beamed. ¡°Good to know! And I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve both blasted past the eleventh step and have gone on to be Master Enchanters! Ya have to be! All these immaculate crystals you made. Flawless! They¡¯re absolutely flawless!¡±


    ¡°That we are.¡± Amun calmly nodded amidst my antics.


    ¡°Then I¡¯m sure you know that to gain the title you¡¯re looking for, you have to create a name brand of unique enchantments, you do. Yes, you do! Any idea what you¡¯ll be making if I might be asking?¡±


    ¡°Several.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah.¡±


    Their snickers came as one. And mine followed soon after.


    ¡°Well, don¡¯t let me hold ya.¡± I waved. ¡°Just show me the perks of your last two levels for me by making something new. Then you¡¯ll be on your way. I¡¯ll be watching from here. Good luck!¡±


    With that, I turned to give them some privacy and elected to return in an hour or so. All they had to do was coax their mana onto the duds in the corner to Recycle the contents; then coax more mana from their wells to activate the Fabrication perk and make something new. An effort that could take hours if one didn''t account for the design aspect. Yet, they surprised me again.


    The crystallization chamber slamming shut made me jump in place and wheel around in the same motion. I was in front of it before I could breathe and immediately jumped back once that absurdly divine magic radiated from Amun like heat from the sun. Strange veins of the purest blue light spread across Amun¡¯s skin first, forming angular vein-like marks on his hands and around his eyes before the same thing was seen in Ed.


    The Recycling was already complete. Thus I leaned ever forward to see them Fabricate.


    Fabrication alone was the reason many decided to become Grandmaster Artificers in the first place, for the perk allowed one to create any non-magical thing from their knowledge base out of raw materials. A single Master Enchanter with a specialization in architecture could process boulders or trees and build a bridge in a mere hour. Or, if they had arcana, they could carve a city from a mountain in under a day. That was only the beginning, though. A place I knew they had yet to reach. And yet, I couldn¡¯t help but believe they had access to some perk I had yet to obtain. Of course, there were perks such as those. But none recorded to be as grandiose and fantastical as a web of screws and plates and other bits and bobs arranged in a fine lattice that stayed suspended in the air.


    It was almost like a blueprint was realized in three dimensions and then put into motion. Some components were welded together. Some were wound into strange shapes. Others were heated and sprayed or dipped into various chemicals and fluids. Meanwhile, almost simultaneously, those perfect crystals were etched and inscribed and blinked out of existence in what felt to be the blink of an eye and returned just as fast, primed with various types of energies. Fire. Lightning. All of the elements, it seemed. And energies that I¡¯d never seen before.


    The lattice began to shrink when those were put into place within the field. And then I saw something I recognized. The strange pipes were fashioned into housings while others became conduits. Screws threaded themselves into metal plates filled with strange green boards that, I realized, boasted the same angular veins seen on their flesh.


    I was completely enamored with the process and remained stuck in awe, even as entirely mundane objects were realized before me.


    Mundane, they were, but so too were they amazing.


    Ed¡¯s creation was a chair. A fine chair that looked more like a padded chair dyed a smoky gray with a fiery red trim had been placed inside a massive egg. By those metrics, it was a strange but undoubtedly beautiful chair. By the other metrics, however, it was anything but.


    Firstly, it was entirely missing its legs, choosing instead to float through some unknown force. Then there were the antennae-like protrusions drooping down from the arched top. I knew not their function, nor could I ponder them as Edward settled his bottom in the chair and attuned his magic to it, prompting two metal arms to sprout from seamless housings in the shell''s sides.


    ¡°Incredible!¡± I gasped, turning to Amun with expectations of something equally amazing.


    What I saw, though, was a relatively large bell of oiled brass that hung from a handle of wood clenched tightly in his hand. Many concentric rings and dials and circles of sea-green mithral spanned the face of the object, giving me the strong impulse to spin and fidget with the mechanical pieces before my eyes fell to the eldritch markings that glowed with malice around a golden skull.


    It was a Dead Bell, I realized. One made into its namesake by virtue of two enchantments primed with unknown magic and the pure essence of death imbued into something as magically conductive as mithral.


    I hurriedly purged the foul thoughts of its effects from my mind with the aid of Amun putting the blasted thing away; and after a deep breath, I congratulated them profusely for the candy they showed these aged eyes of mine and remembered to tell them of the Artificer¡¯s Market before I saw myself out.


    I needed a drink stiff enough to turn a dwarven face sour.

 254 - VoidNet

    Amun.


    7th of Ianua, 1491.


    Eldereach County, Protectorate of Bakewia. Bright Bridge District, Shavew City.


    6:12 AM.


    [Grandmaster Artificer: Step 12, Master Enchanter - To continue down the path of the Grandmaster Artificer, you must become renowned as a Master Enchanter by creating a name brand of one-of-a-kind enchantments.]


    ***


    Despite us being licensed and free to create whenever and wherever we pleased, Ed and I remained in the sub-guild¡¯s halls for another night, coming to terms with our perks while we finalized and created many of the creations in our heads using the exotic materials of Ilium.


    Fabrication was just the most recent of those perks. Behind that and after the Dismantling perk was the ability to Recycle crafted products into neat portions of their constituent materials. Swords became steel ingots. Wooden shields became blocks and planks. All in a matter of seconds or minutes, depending on the density of mana one used. Still, though, there was more to come and much to do. So Ed and I emerged bright and early and took to the skies at once. And though we made plans to head to that quaint city nearby, we had other priorities at the moment. Namely, to procure some land by flaunting around the temples with the flair of a rich artificer.


    That made it simple to bait a noble¡¯s servant to greet us. A few hours and several thousand gold coins later, we were afforded a plot in a small neighborhood just outside of the gate at the end of Sunset Bank. A quiet area called Heather Brook.


    With a platoon of undead and some dilated time, a workshop was erected before the light of dawn splayed across the land, complete with an enchanted threshold. Likewise, Ed had much the same structure across the road. Only his boasted a spatially enchanted barn door that led to an inter-dimensional workshop on the left and a vast show floor on the right. Both basked in inspiration-giving violet moonlight. Yet, more enchantments were found within, providing electricity, ventilation, water, air, and, most importantly, heat to anything being made inside as well as an array of other amenities to aid in the engineering processes.


    The barn door, though, was the true marvel. They could be formed into any opening, granting entry to a world-sized interior space on a flat plane that could easily be temporally dilated and filled with some type of environment via additional enchantments. I left the naming rights up to Ed and he replied with mutterings about their use as workshops. Not just for us but for our subordinates and vassals as well. Stations that would allow them to create anywhere.


    Creation Stations, he thus decided to call them, much to my dismay.


    Regardless, we went inside our respective units to fabricate copies unceasingly, sending the first several Creation Stations off to Letta and Giorno and the council in Maru before nearly fifty more were sent out to the Legion Commanders. Still, thousands more were sent to Maru after that. They had a mountain of work to do and, according to the reports leaking through their Doppelgangers, the timeline to accomplish them was shrinking fast. However, the powers at my disposal allowed us to move past redesigning the basic issued equipment with Ilium materials far before Letta and Giorno received and made use of their stations. Thus enabling us to build some more than necessary infrastructure and distribute them before we moved forward.


    With that done, I dove into carving and sending clusters of crystals around the Peninsula and beyond to be primed with various types of mana before being returned to me in the station. Or, in many cases, to be kept and worked into a few designs on the home front. By then, Giorno and Letta were in such a position to allow Ed and I to spend hours communicating with their Doppelgangers while they made prototypes and alterations to our suggestions in real time until we finally, after many, many years of work, settled on a final design for our formal uniforms.


    With the deliberations done, we paired up in our respective teams and broke contact for the time being. However, rather than turning to textiles and metals to make gear and arms, Ed and I turned to piles of wood and stone to make our long-awaited Legionary infrastructure and equipment.


    With little help from the undead, our first project was communications equipment. And for that, I had a stellar idea.


    With Polaris holding the power of light, I explained to Ed, they used all types of light-based communication and transportation-based enchantments across their lands. That much was verified by the Legionaries born in Polaris. They had everything from Lidar to radios and more at their disposal. It was, above all else, amusing to me; for I intended to use the very same methods of communication and transportation.


    Light.


    Light, tainted with Death, Darkness, and Void. Then made whole with the essence of the Divine Engineer- or rather, the ArcaTech.


    Dark Radiation.


    We determined it would have no restrictions in terms of access. At least within the Empire. Anyone member or entity affiliated with Eotrom would be able to use Dark Radiation and its accompanying technology, as that would be what our electronics-based communication would be sensitive to. But also to standard electromagnetic radiation in order to permit communications with whatever networks may exist outside the Empire.


    In turn, that would give rise to the monstrous cesspool of anonymous degeneracy that was the internet. Something I debated long and hard about bringing into this universe or not. But, alas, the benefits couldn¡¯t be ignored. As such, I took the time to establish and connect the VoidNet to all existing hardware and software within the Empire.


    That said, it was decided that it would be necessary to create a separate and highly secure network for the Legions. To be governed by a digital undead intelligence housed within a void somewhere within the labyrinth of my home world. Infused with all of my domains, the project was to be called NoxNet, VoidNet¡¯s sheltered, smaller but infinitely more capable little brother. It would have the same capabilities as VoidNet plus the mental apps I¡¯ve been using for years with the Eternal Eye; along with several more applications tailor-made for those less proficient with technology. Made accessible only to the soul-bound Legionary recruits and their superiors to assist them in their endeavors.


    That required us to create devices that all classes, namely druids, could use. Thus experiments were needed. And in time, they would be done. But first, another task was at hand.


    Together, we sorted through and named the nigh-endless materials born from Eotrom and across all four domains, finding with surprise the materials born from the mana domain were severely lacking in terms of variety and usability. Each type of material only had an average of four variants. But oh, were they powerful. Especially the divine wise rocks.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    That aside, we continued designing and testing the field equipment and class-specific uniforms before the materials were distributed and the final seal of approval was given. While the designs varied by class, unit, and occupation, each piece of equipment was fabricated with the same materials and each individual received a variation of the same article of equipment. Some kind of headpiece and eyewear. The obligatory trousers, top wear, and boots, as well as gauntlets or gloves and their enchanted belt with the attached tool buckle. Aside from that, each piece of cloth was comprised of Noxweave. Which itself was composed of a layer of Faerie Fiend Flax sandwiched between sheets of Netweave, stitched together by Attosilk.


    Attosilk was carbon nanotube fibers strewn from the biomechanical silkworms and spiders of Ilium, giving the already durable material the properties of a true lightspeed fiber optic fused with high voltage wire. Netweave, on the other hand, was the result of Faerie Flax seeds being eaten and passed through the bionic birds of Ilium, giving rise to a fiber with innate networking capabilities. Or in other words, a smart fabric. Last and most importantly was the Faerie Flax that took energy from the domain and power tied closest to the fiber of my being. Mana, Darkness, Death, and Void. It seemed no different from Faerie Flax at a glance. However, it was a fabric that was tied to the soul once attuned and thus would remain attached to the soul past death.


    No matter the class, Noxweave would allow the commanders to monitor every aspect of their subordinates in real time akin to a blue force tracker that worked across the borders of time and space. As far as the rest of the equipment, however, only the rucks, helmets, and eyewear held any material from Ilium. The rucks were, of course, spatially distorted, yet contained many pockets still to divide rations and equipment accordingly.


    The shoulder straps featured nipple-like protrusions at mouth level that were connected to two such pockets within the ruck. One for water and the other for their drink of choice, of course. Unless one was a dwarf, Els made certain of assuring me. In which case it would be ale and liquor to increase the stores of their camel humps. Something that required us to make a variant that went without the inborn water distiller.


    The two radial pockets contained storage spaces for fast-action items such as weapons and potions sat on one side while the slow-action items such as tools and equipment composed the other. Two progressively smaller pockets on the front, stacked one atop the other, were intended for provisions and emergency supplies. Thus the more extensive main pocket was reserved for anything from raw materials to loot gathered during travels.


    The camping set was enchanted just the same. Externally, it detached from the base of the ruck and unfurled into a one-person tent. But of course, it was spatially enchanted to step down into something comparable to a studio apartment with minimal furniture. Only a table made of Demowood- a nanite-infused table capable of intaking resources to build hardware within itself to accommodate a number of needs, be they residential or industrial.


    The boots, whatever design they happened to be, were enchanted with darkness to allow for silent movements at will, along with gravity enchantments for wall walking. So too were the gloves enchanted with gravity as well as electromagnetism to allow for spider-like climbing and grip strength. Then they were reinforced along the knuckles and backhand for extra protection before we completed the bill with clawed or webbed variants.


    Few enchantments were found in the trousers. Besides the pockets and some camouflage, there wasn¡¯t much of anything needed. The belt and in particular, the buckles, however, contained many exotic augmented metals.


    The buckle¡¯s core was primarily composed of Volterum; or Voltaged Electrum. Its property was to absorb many types of energy and store it within the metal itself as electrical potential energy. Taking that into consideration, it was used to power the devices implanted within the uniforms as well as any equipment a legionary had on their person. Shielding the buckle was a shell of Dimensionite- adamantine given 4-D properties through augmentation. With this ability to change at will, the buckle''s slingshot winch could be configured in an almost infinite number of ways. Spider arms could be used to lower the line gently just as easily as a winch could be used to lift something easily. Not to mention the many ways it could be shaped to plug into external devices. If that wasn¡¯t enough, the buckle was imbued with a pair of gravity enchantments to allow for weightlessness and in turn, redirect the pull of gravity for ''flight.'' As for the small but powerful grappling hook, it was made of Vicesteel with Arcsteel tips; a hyper-magnet, and a variable welding electrode respectively. All connected to a shadow-infused line of Attosilk.


    Like the trousers, the tunics weren¡¯t enchanted much. Only enchantments for camouflage and protection from the elements. They did, however, hold traces of Holosilver to display digital holographic nametapes, unit patches, medals, and the like. As did they hold Biogold, or gold that had been augmented to be as psionically conductive with the body and mind as regular gold was with electricity; in turn, granting the wearer thought-based control of their gear akin to a neural net.


    Yet still, there was more.


    Specifically, there were four more. The cowl. The helm. The eyes. And the watch.


    Given how, in a sense, everyone would be blessed by my mana domain, the cowl held only three variants for those blessed by the twilight, moonlight, and engineering domains. Like the Owl, those graced by twilight received greater dark elven cloaks made with Dusk Owl feathers and Night Ave quills while those blessed by the moon received pelts made from the wolves and deer of the Silverstream Forest. As for the builders, crafters, engineers, and artificers, there was a heavily enchanted silken lab coat with a feathered collar like mine. But, like the others, so too was it imbued with Dark Space to allow the wearer to Bamf to safety or meld into the shadows.


    Whether it be a leaf crown or a helmet, the headpieces were all made with Dimensionite and Biogold coupled with adamantine and mithral, allowing the adamantine headdresses to stow away to a smaller size when not in wear while retaining the protective barriers emitted by their space, gravity, and force enchantments.


    Naturally, the eyewear contained the same materials in addition to Holosilver and a cluster of near-microscopic enchantments attuned to the ambient sound, EM radiation, light, darkness, death, mana, and other energies. Passively, the cluster sensed the wearer¡¯s ambient surroundings and funneled the data into a central processor- a data shard. Even a small fraction of the augmented diamond was capable of storing a few petabytes of data. Giving each Legionary what essentially amounted to augmented senses, complete with augmented reality.


    Those features only increased tenfold once the wearer was connected to NoxNet. Done by the easy act of putting on a watch.


    The base functions were the same ones Letta perfected so long ago. Dual time zones, adjusted automatically between the local time and Eotrom time. Or between mortal time and the time spent within a spatially distorted chamber. It contained a sun tracker, timers, stopwatches, and a silent alarm. The bezel could even unfold to reveal a compass rose. Or to activate the hidden feature.


    Such a feature was birthed from a microscopic set of devices housed deep within the piece. It started with an enchantment that mapped the area outside the immediate environment using dark lidar pulses and transmitted the data to the same aforementioned processor. A Data Shard. The information gathered through the pulses, the cluster, and data received from beyond was then fed to some Holosilver to project a holographic map of the local area; or augment the map to their eyewear, depending on the wearer¡¯s discretion.


    It was perhaps an overpowered loadout for my beloved Legionaries. But what I was sure they were to face in the distant future made it more than justifiable. It made it necessary. And what I expected of them demanded it.


    Only once the gear was tested and packaged for later distribution, did I notice the arcane words lingering before me and frowned. It wasn¡¯t how I expected to make a brand of enchantments but I wasn¡¯t one to throw away a free meal in favor of making some bread. I readily dismissed the words and went on to modify the gear for the Commanders¡¯ liking while Ed went to make their larger equipment. Likely creating his brand of products in the process.


    Albeit without his doppelganger.


    ¡°There¡¯s something else you and I need to make, Edward," I told the clone after pulling him from Ed''s shadow. ¡°It''s going to be something incredible.¡±

 255 - NoxNet

    ¡°Hmm. Yes, I see. Okay, and¡­ very well. And- oh, Gods! Noted. Moving on! And¡­¡±


    I exchanged weary glances with Edward, Ed¡¯s Doppelganger, and shook my head as the animated skull paced across the line for the third time.


    ¡°Forty-six skulls. Several fucking tons of mithral and several more tons of other metals. The meat and muscle of a unicorn as well as most of its skeleton; only missing the legs and the head. A bunch o'' fuckin¡¯ wood from a divine tree and a bunch o¡¯ fuckin¡¯ stone from the realm. How many times do you need to look at it, Sim?¡± Edward seethed.


    Somehow displaying a horrified expression through a slacked jaw of gold-lined teeth, the animated skull, Simion Lumbarde, dipped and bobbed through the air to place his fiery sockets directly before Edward¡¯s eyes as if he wished to burn the sea-green essence of his sentience into his soul.


    ¡°Why, I do not appreciate such a filthy attitude! Hmphf!¡± he spun away, somehow side-eying me without eyes.


    ¡°If you¡¯re finished taking inventory, Simion, we can begin. Or, are you nervous?¡± I squinted at him accusingly. ¡°You¡¯ve been excited about this since I told you about it all those months ago.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I am! It¡¯s just¡­ I¡¯ve grown used to my skull. I¡¯ve had it all my life!¡± he pleaded, then added. ¡°My un-life too!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll still have it.¡± I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯ll just be¡­ different.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes. I know.¡± He bobbed over and placed himself in my open palm. ¡°Very well.¡± He sighed. ¡°Let¡¯s begin.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°So, what¡¯s the idea here?¡± Edward asked in a sudden shift of tone. ¡°I¡¯m assuming it¡¯s already upgraded, duplicated, and all that mess?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded, then turned a smirk towards him. ¡°So, the internet, right?¡±


    ¡°That digital library thing that people used to talk to each other? Cesspool of toxicity borne from anonymity? The VoidNet?¡±


    ¡°A crass summary, my good Sir!¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I snorted in response to Simion¡¯s two cents. ¡°NoxNet will essentially be that mixed with undying intelligence, and more. It is first a hive mind composed of this.¡± I gestured to both Simion and the materials before us. ¡°Like Zaraxus, Simeon¡¯s skull will be upgraded. Fabricated, really, into a living Matrioska Brain that can sense Mana Rays and Dark Radiation. Then, he¡¯ll be fused with a wise rock.¡±


    ¡°A highly simplified explanation!¡± Simion chirped.


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Edward nodded slowly. ¡°My question is, why?¡±


    Simion flew from my hand. ¡°Because, good Sir, I am a soul inside of a skull! Dark Radiation is infused with death! Thus it can be directly transmitted to souls! Mana Rays are made of mana. Mana itself is an energy of the spirit. Thus I, a soul with a physical body of flesh and machine, am the link that allows the metal and flesh to commune with the spirit and the soul! Think, boy!" He butted Edward''s head roughly. "Are you daft?¡±


    ¡°What he means is that this fusion will allow for a sort of soul transmission that is more or less like a telepathic or empathic bond with your subordinates.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± Edward suddenly backpedaled, shaking his head. ¡°So, we¡¯ll be able to talk to each other. In our heads? Without implants?¡±


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded. ¡°Anyone whose soul is tied to mine. So, all of the Legions.¡±


    ¡°Without implants?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded again. ¡°And the infusion of the Void allows it to bypass the light delay, and even cross realms.¡±


    ¡°Ah- yes.¡± Simion dipped low, answering in but a whisper. ¡°Although, some sort of device will still be necessary. An earring or some other piece of jewelry will suffice. Or, if Liege¡¯s research continues without any hiccups, a tattoo.¡±


    Ed¡¯s eyes widened impossibly from that revelation, picking Simion up a bit.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to steal your thunder,¡± I said to him as a form of apology. ¡°You can explain the final version of NoxNet.¡±


    ¡°Ah- yes!¡± he dipped high towards the mass of material. ¡°The database of information the Liege has painstakingly inscribed for us will be housed within my new brain!¡± he emphatically shouted. ¡°A brain made of flesh and metal! And so too will all that the Legions learn be added to this grand, living library and then made accessible through the Noctis Network!


    ¡°Haha! But that is just the first function!¡± He growled excitedly. ¡°For the second is what the Liege calls a ¡®streaming service.¡¯ Monitoring devices dubbed Satellites are to be distributed across the Legions, truth be told, for the sake of accountability. But so too will they perform as your extra eyes; and mine. Any and all actions from the throes of battle to the gentle lulls of one¡¯s sleep can be recorded and broadcast throughout Eotrom, building each of you unparalleled fame.


    ¡°To assist in that endeavor, skulls, subordinate to me, will be distributed to you first officers of the Legions and your subordinates!¡± he declared, making a swooping pass over the gathered skulls. "They are the Lore Skulls! Though, you are free to call them as the Liege calls them, Lore Keepers. They, with the help of the Lore Master, Sir Willard Rowe, will create dossiers for each member of the Legions. Files that detail each feat, accomplishment, battle, award, and victory. And so too, each tragedy or loss.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s only fair.¡± Edward shrugged, clearly eager to hear more about the project.


    ¡°Halfway through, mind you!¡± Simion bobbed. ¡°Though, the third function has thus been explained. A soul-based communications network. The Liege shall have a channel linking himself to you Primes of the Legio Noctis. And each of you shall be linked to your squads and subordinate units, down to the individual.


    ¡°Paltry, I know.¡± He somehow smirked. ¡°But the last function is certainly not the most boorish. Every Legion, down to every company, will have its own industry. That much is common knowledge, yes?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Edward impatiently nodded.


    ¡°And in turn, such industrial facilities, be they mining outposts or city-spanning factories, will one day be spread far and wide across the realms?¡± He paused, waiting for Edward to nod, and nearly went into a contest of who would crack first.


    Simion caved.


    ¡°And thus is the fourth function!¡± Simion groaned in frustration. ¡°You, Good Sir, and the other esteemed Legionaries will have the capability to remotely supervise and operate every piece of infrastructure you own. Everything, Sir Edward, down to the doors and consoles within the vessels you create to the defensive network of an entire city two realms away.


    ¡°Instantaneously.¡± He grounded with absolute finality.


    ¡°Okay.¡± Edward slowly nodded, completely ignoring Simion¡¯s burning intensity. ¡°I just have one question. Why use flesh and bone as a material? You have metals and divine materials at your disposal. Are you going to be walking around in a new body or something?¡±


    ¡°Yes and no. Living, but stationary in his own subspace. And,¡± I chuckled, ¡°it¡¯s for an offshoot or a new branch of technology. Flesh tech.¡±


    ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± Edward blinked rapidly.


    ¡°Oh, think about it, lad!¡± Simion headbutted his chest. ¡°Many undead are zombies with tattered limbs and torsos. How able are they to wield a weapon? Hardly!¡± Ed jumped back a bit at the shout muffled by his sternum. ¡°But what if the standard zombie had an organic sword of, say, nacre imbued into their very rotted flesh, eh? Ah, that would be much more efficient, would it not?¡±


    ¡°And disturbing.¡± He chortled helplessly. ¡°But yes.¡±


    ¡°Exactly the point my boy! Besides.¡± Simion brushed against him, gentler this time. ¡°If this is to happen and I¡¯m to become of flesh again, much less a machine, I¡¯m going to need someone to perform maintenance on me. And to add to that, the Legions will one day reach a critical mass of undead. The choice will then be to let the Legions become oversaturated with undead or leave bodies to decay and spread negative energy across the realms.


    ¡°We would rather do neither.¡± Simion proudly stated after a short contemplative silence. ¡°Thus we have decided to gather up these unwanted corpses. And with this¡­ er, FleshTech, their biomass will be processed and used to defend, maintain, or even improve both me and the undead- and in turn, the NoxNet.¡±


    ¡°So, gentlemen.¡± I clapped loudly and shifted my eyes between them. ¡°Shall we get started.?¡±

 256 - Satellites and Probes

    With NoxNet online, Edward returned to the original, and it was back to the Creation Station for me to craft the Commanders¡¯ equipment. And for them, a different approach was taken.


    First and foremost, their backgrounds, lifestyles, personalities, and classes were taken into account, and, with their help, a base design for their unit or organization was established as a template and color palate. Then came the tedious task of making variations of uniforms and equipment for each Commander based on their class and occupation.


    For the Witches, Scarlett and Phelia, and any other who would come about, I altered the eyewear to make them sensitive to life and death energies in addition to being able to see mana. Scarlett, however, was one of the few with multiple classes, surprisingly so. Being a Druid also, she received a staff made from my divine tree as well as a set of light armor made from lunar silk and Silverwood; Unlike Mary¡¯s, whose armor was made of the same lunar wood in addition to a crown made from the antlers of a Silverhorn Stag.


    By themselves, they held illusory and radiant powers, but with the many elemental enchantments imbued within the headpieces, they gave the wielder the power to terraform the environment around them as they saw fit.


    With Jonet¡¯s magic, the Bards were given instruments capable of playing as loudly or quietly as they pleased and more, they were capable of playing holographic recordings streamed across the various networks. Most intriguing of all, however, was the prize toy sent out to the Bards. It was composed of an enchanted electronic core imbued with a neutral soul and encased by various metals and ceramics. In turn, the sentient core was surrounded by a shell of Demowood that sandwiched a film of Bio-Glass between a casing of Dimensionite. All combined, this created a sentient drone that could reform into any desired shape at will. And with enchantments of gravity, Moonlight, and Twilight, it was given superior maneuverability, divine protection, and perfect invisibility.


    In other words, it was a Satellite.


    Such a fantastic creation, it was, that the Owl sent the souls of failed experiments over to be imbued into Satellites for Legionaries currently in service to record their adventures and stream them across both networks.


    With that short distraction gone, I moved on to the sparingly few items dedicated to the monks. For us, there were only weapons. Enchanted war fans for Peter, twilit chakrams for Veil of Shadows, and an adamantine skin for Rua¡¯s sentient weapon. The other classes necessitated more obscure or specific enchantments. The rogues received enchantments that could Bamf their thrown weapons back, gain a facsimile of the Wraith Form, and allow them to disappear into a snowy mist or rig silent explosives.


    Paladins required enchantments imbued with the power of their affinities and aligned with their oaths. The rest were even more varied and depended largely on demand. For a few, there were necklaces. Ash, Roheisa, and Urshure, to name a few. Some were meant to temper magics, to teach them to use their powers in a certain way. Others, for shifting between realms. More received rings, bracelets, or weapons, many of the Rangers and fighters and all of the Barbarians being examples; giving them abilities that varied from allowing the wearer to speak with animals or breathe underwater and at high altitudes. All received¡­ something that would enable them to absorb the constitution or strength of those they defeated and raise them as undead. Shadows and otherwise. But the greatest creations were, naturally, for my clerics.


    That, however, had to wait; as I had a bunch of toys to make for a certain witch in a faraway country. And after that, I was to make my official debut as a Grandmaster Artificer.


    ***


    The Owl.


    ***


    At this point, it didn¡¯t matter if Archie linked Borrowed Time with Amun. The deal was done, and Archie would soon be overcome by a zealous greed so strong that he¡¯d damn every soul who dared enter his domain.


    That wasn¡¯t to say the Owl wasn¡¯t busy, for the Owl had been just as busy as Amun, watching Archie from afar; whispering in the ear of those who were just as wicked as he to guide them towards his office- his domain. Giving him and nearly everyone in the upper echelon of his former workplace and the hundreds below them the cover of darkness while they walked and walked and walked northeast. Ripping souls from those who strayed too far from the group. Overseeing the undead construct his castle. And so on.


    And so on.


    By the time Amun began toying in his labs, they made it to the Tri-Point and persuaded many more to join them in their endeavor. The hilly region claimed the borders of the Rhar Kingdoms to the northwest, the Principality of Chaulort to the southwest, and the Kasian Empire, stretching along the entirety of the peninsula¡¯s eastern half on this side of the mountains. In turn, smothering Brybs on the eastern coast.


    Other than the hot springs that made these lands well-traveled, there were no towns or municipalities found here. There were, however, many encampments, bases, and fortresses for the perpetually warring orcs, humans, dwarves, and goblins that claimed the hills and the underground of the Kasian Empire- hence the lands being so well traveled.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    That said, the Owl was intrigued all the same as the strange customs found on this side of the southern peninsula became apparent. Every society in Kasia could have easily been considered warmongers. That was true from every species from humans, elves, and dwarves to, of course, goblins and orcs. It was the land of Fighters, after all. However, every species in Kasia treated Witches and their Witch Huts- the common term for hospitals- as neutral zones. They did not attack the Witches of Chaulort. Nor did they attack each other whilst under their care or even after leaving the clinic. Only until they safely returned to their parties and slept through the night did they return to waging war.


    Those from Rhar were different, however. Being mostly rangers, they cared not for witchcraft. By and large, that was true on a cultural basis as well. They used natural remedies including potions or, in some rare cases, preferred to let nature take its course. But still, they respected the witches and their huts so as to not bring conflicts their way.


    In either case, that yielded plenty of souls for the Owl to claim and mark for Archie¡¯s witches to rescue. Not to mention several species for Archie to perform ¡®miracles¡¯ on. Humans. Dwarves. Orcs. Goblins. Hobgoblins. Bugbears. Ogres. Even a few elves. But also some ¡®exotic¡¯ species. Felipians, Striflings, and lastly, a Goliath.


    Before today, those marked had been walking aimlessly toward the hills. They¡¯d been following some scratching impulse or sign or signal that led them to a place they couldn¡¯t see. Now, however, they could see it. The only structure in the region besides the hot springs, and this one was far from it. Far closer to them, who walked faster and faster as the moments passed, for the building was grand. Far larger than any found at the springs and with a sign that displayed the name to the heavens themselves.


    Only hours before they arrived, Archie entered like an old king waltzing to his throne. He looked around the place, not with the absorbent eyes of one seeing an architectural marvel for the first time, but with orderly eyes that imagined patients filling the place with pleading cries and desperate groans.


    Directly to his office, he went, where he found Borrowed Time waiting for him with boxes and cages and containers filled with the holy grail of his career. However, a crystal decanter was his destination. He filled his glass with spirits and took several minutes to sip and look across his new domain. And after gazing upon his subjects for the first time, approaching his castle en masse, he got to work.


    We got to work.


    It was necessary to say that the place operated and was indeed a true hospital. Or as they called it, a Witch Hut. Pora Bora would survey the land, marking the wounded for retrieval. The Owl would then relay where the injured were to be found and Archie would send his witches out to find them. A simple, foolproof process.


    True to the stories, the witches flew on brooms to accomplish such an arduous task. What was fascinating, however, was that it was one of the many tools of Witchcraft. It was an arcane focus that not only enabled them to dowse, locate, and retrieve patients quickly but also worked to sanitize any environment they were to operate in by simply¡­ sweeping.


    Similarly, other ordinary objects were employed for nursing or surgical tasks. String and bowls were used as a focus to recreate the function of a catheter or to contain bodily fluids. Pots were somehow made into colostomy bags. Sticks and bones were used as scalpels. No matter whether they be tubes or pipes or rods or shells, all the devices were the same and yet varied according to the witch¡¯s taste.


    As such, those with the Shadow of Death at their feet had whatever ailment other than a disease or lost limbs treated in a matter of hours or sometimes days and emerged eager to return to their village or tribe to spread the word about this amazing hut at the base of the mountain. And amazing it was. It was plush. It was grandiose. It was filled with amenities that made the patients feel like royalty. Three custom meals a day. The most amazing views. Musical devices played soothing music and a plethora of plants and herbs kept an odor in the air that held minor euphoric properties.


    It was fascinating to the Owl. All of it. The clinic, the staff, the process, and the land itself. The witches. And, of course, the number of patients who returned with the Shadow of Death looming over their heads.


    By and large, the damned would have done anything to live just a bit longer. They became almost desperate for it when Archie pitched the deal, telling them they¡¯d revolutionize medical history and exceed the limitations of their flesh in one fell swoop.


    Indeed, they were cursed and given deals much like Borrowed Time. But much worse.


    They couldn¡¯t leave their underground complex. After each interaction, they would forget whatever they discussed with Archie, the Owl, or Borrowed time; as well as the operation itself. And so too would they forget everything about their former lives. Their sole purpose was to be implanted and augmented with artificial limbs and organs with varying degrees of success. Then, they¡¯d die. And the process would repeat until Archie found his Eureka moment.


    Indeed, it didn¡¯t take long to hear the shouts echoing through the complex. Archie and his witches became intrigued with the power granted by augmentations. They grew enthralled by the process of testing and retesting these designs on others. So much so that they eventually started working on themselves.


    They worked and worked, testing stranger and more exotic designs as the days passed, employing and using whatever was sent to them without a second thought. Meanwhile, every byte of data was being transmitted to Amun to be analyzed and integrated into new hardware before the new toys- and new orders- were sent back.


    Above all others, one order in particular made Archie burn with excitement at the possibilities. A single material- a single field of study, opened up a realm of experiments he¡¯d never thought to employ in all his years.


    That order was to study potions and alchemical toxicity in different life forms, starting with mana sensitivity potions. By the time he relayed it to his staff, four empty bottles were already strewn before his desk while beneath it, hidden in the shadows, the Owl screeched silently.

 257 - ManaNet

    Amun.


    11th of Ianua, 1491.


    Eldereach County, Bakewia. Shavew, Heather Brook District.


    6:12 AM.


    [Grandmaster Artificer, Step 12: Master Enchanter - To continue down the path of the Grandmaster Artificer, you must become renowned as an Enchanter by creating a name brand of one-of-a-kind enchantments.]


    ***


    It took several days but eventually, my drive slowed to a reasonable enough pace to continue down the path of the Grandmaster Artificer. Still, though, there was much to do. Thus the noticeable pep in my step setting Skoll and Hati into a trot as I stepped into the moonlight to meet Ed.


    Our plot of land outside the gate was a curious sight to the many passersby. Although a few were walking around at this hour, the same couldn¡¯t be said inside the city proper; where, even as far as the Military District, I was sure they could see the giant sign floating above Ed¡¯s shop.


    It was an analog of neon lighting imbued with both lights, moonlight, and twilight set against a three-dimensional backdrop of darkness. It was the typical image of a car driving into the setting sun with the words cutting through them, canted so that the ¡®C¡¯ in Pascal made up the sun. Cliche, but¡­ ¡°It looks nice.¡± I frowned in approval.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± He yawned and motioned at my building in the same motion. ¡°See you¡¯ve made some changes as well.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I turned, looking at the curiously thick but low wall of black marble surrounding the structure. The structure was an oiled bronze fence that sat just inside the wall but wasn¡¯t connected to it, boasting many gates that didn¡¯t align with any openings on the stone in front of it. The building itself was octagonal, matching the same tones as the wall, save the white walls of the square hut on the second story. What was more impressive, however, was the main gate. Tall, arched, and radiating magic from the many enchantments imbued within.


    ¡°What¡¯s it called?¡± he asked after noticing the lack of a sign.


    ¡°Eh.¡± I waved dismissively, ¡°I don¡¯t really care for a name. So, uh¡­ the Divine Engineer¡¯s Emporium. I guess we¡¯ll call it Dee.¡±


    ¡°Dee?¡±


    ¡°These nuts.¡±


    Ed rocked back on his heels, breaking out in a cackling laugh. ¡°That¡¯ll bring the customers in!¡±


    ¡°You know it.¡± I snickered. ¡°Nah, but seriously, it¡¯s ArcaTech Industries; or AI. I''m the ArcaTech, by the by.¡±


    ¡°AI, huh? Not ATI?¡± He asked after a bit more wooing laughter. ¡°What¡¯s your specialty?¡±


    "You first,¡± I smirked, eager to hear his answer. Which, shame on me, for I should¡¯ve known that, like myself, there were things Ed had been desperate to make since he was a kid. Namely, the very things that put him in my employ in the first place.


    Just like back then, he lifted the veil and promptly planted me on my ass, my head shaking in disbelief while my widened eyes remained on his astonishing creations, no matter how much my head shook. Of course, Ed¡¯s name brand would involve vehicles. And they came in all types, for all biomes, and all environments. There were models of the same carriages I had in my Shade Pocket. Some had rubber wheels, more had tracks, and others had wheels of wood banded with steel. More of them, however, held shards of the Grav Crystals found throughout my divine realm, turning them, essentially, into flying cars and hoverbikes.


    But that was only the start. They too held the electronics we¡¯d been working on to this day and even had many of the highly advanced tech Ed had been obsessing over since he¡¯d learned of it. But so too did some models have magical and divine materials or enchantments to handle everything from power and communications to camouflage, armor, and armaments.


    Of course, the same could be said for the cars, motorcycles, trucks, trains, and tanks he made. But even then, he made planes, ships, submersibles, and more, Omni-wheels, gliders, rockets, airships, crawlers, and tunnelers. Any vehicle one could imagine was on proud display in his spatially distorted showroom. Dune buggies and dirt bikes were organized neatly atop a faux beach, overlooking the scaled-down ocean where submarines breached the waters and ships meandered calmly next to jetskis.


    Most importantly, there was a range of makes and models that could be afforded by everyone from the extremely wealthy to the veritably wealthless. Makes and models that used everything from bestial power or alcohol to magic and Vehsipane.


    Alas, however, my question had been answered. Thus it was my turn. That, however, was a bit more complicated for me, for my products were things that were best shown rather than explained. Or rather, only one of them was.


    With the sun beginning to rise, I figured it best to go ahead and show him before the mob of cats came to swarm around me, so I approached the outer gate with a raised hand and calmly said, ¡°One hundred meters.¡±


    A hardly perceptible rumble answered me before a flash of silver light splayed over the land for a fraction of a second. When it faded, the hut and much of the perimeter were simply¡­ gone. All that remained was that low wall of black marble overlooking a pathed park with a small pond and fruit trees, raised planters, and even berry bushes. The gate also remained. Its arch, studded with enchantments, glowed subtly with a silvery light that seemed to pour down with the likeness of a misty waterfall, showing us glimpses of an octagonal building just beyond its threshold.


    ¡°Not exactly a singular enchantment.¡± I shrugged, backing away. ¡°But I call them¡­ er, Shard¡¯s of Mani.¡±


    ¡°Oh, now you care about names.¡± Ed rolled his eyes and nearly rolled them out of his skull once I stepped five meters away from the gate, causing it to collapse into a pile of rubble.


    ¡°Safety feature.¡± I grinned at his agape expression. Then took a seat to smoke and discuss the other products I was to sell.


    ¡°I¡¯m reluctant to give the vast majority of these things away. To sell them, even. At least to them.¡± I waved across the fantastical skies of Shavew and let my hand collapse weakly. ¡°It¡¯s like¡­ after Hill Base, many of the places I¡¯ve seen are the same. All across the Peninsula, millions of people are scared to leave the walls of their cities. They''re illiterate. Impoverished. Oppressed. Living mundane lives while they dream of more.


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    ¡°I want to help them,¡± I said, looking into Ed¡¯s smoky-gray eyes. ¡°Not out of any sense of altruism but simply because I am able to. Simply because I have the knowledge, wealth, and power to fight anyone who would keep me from making these people¡¯s lives better; if only to make the realm a more interesting place. Imagining seeing the same things in every realm across the Mortal Plane is... disheartening. But if I explore and subsequently change those places, and then leave, the Legions can explore those changed places in my wake sometime later. Allowing me to vicariously explore those places.


    ¡°Like in Hill Base.¡± I turned away, looking to the skies. ¡°How many people in that place discovered talents and skills they never realized because of what we did? How many of them will go on to make some profound discovery, invent some new thing, or otherwise make Maru a more interesting place? Simply because they no longer have to struggle to simply survive.


    ¡°But that in itself is the problem.¡± I warily sighed. ¡°What would I be, if not a conquerer, if I go about demanding people swear fealty to me to claim my knowledge and technology for themselves? What would I be, if I kill some monarch or emperor who refuses to let me help their people? More so, what kind of God of Freedom would I be if I refused to let my knowledge spread freely across the Mortal Plane? What kind of God of Freedom would I be if I kept the creatures and materials of Eotrom locked away from all but the Empire?¡±


    ¡°You may not be looking for an answer.¡± Ed began after a long pause. And he was correct, I wasn¡¯t. But that didn¡¯t mean I was opposed to one, and so, I nodded him forward. ¡°I think you¡¯re overthinking it. For as long as I¡¯ve known you, you¡¯ve never demanded anyone to do something they wouldn¡¯t already do or otherwise agreed to. No matter how selfish your intent is, you¡¯re a leader we want to follow. And you give us the freedom to. So." He shrugged. "If they don''t want to swear fealty in exchange for your knowledge and technology, they don''t get it.


    ¡°As for your second question. You taught me that a ruler is nothing without their people. So a monarch or emperor who refuses to help their people is no ruler to begin with. The morality of killing them would be dependent on the situation. But letting the empire or kingdom rot from a lack of leadership would be the true crime in my opinion. Well.¡± He retracted his words a moment later. ¡°Not if the people were rotten to begin with.


    ¡°As for the third question.¡± He leaned back with a great sigh and stared upwards. ¡°I see it the same way you see us. We¡¯re explorers. More importantly, we¡¯re your explorers. Obtaining that title can¡¯t be achieved through hopes and dreams alone. We had to be trained and educated to the point of exhaustion for years before we gained your secrets. And by your hand. We had to earn much more than your trust and loyalty before we were worthy of being granted your knowledge, wisdom, and strength. Why should anyone else be different?


    ¡°In fact, I¡¯d be pissed if it was different.¡± He nudged me with a hearty laugh.


    ¡°I hate how much sense you make sometimes.¡± I shook my head in mock despair. Then looked at him anxiously. ¡°And the last question, Pascal the Sage?¡±


    ¡°Eh- aha!¡± He shrugged midway before a chortle interrupted him. ¡°Well.¡± He began. ¡°I understand why you¡¯re reluctant. You¡¯re a God of Nature and many of these creatures will throw things out of whack for a time. Not to mention the people who would hunt the creatures in hopes of obtaining crazy materials. However.¡± He paused to punctuate the return of the infamous shit-eating grin. ¡°You seem to be forgetting two things. First, you''re also the God of Change. Second, you have us.¡± He proudly thumped the tree showing beneath his coat with both hands. ¡°There¡¯s no way my legionaries will let the creatures of our home be poached.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡± I nodded after a couple of moments. ¡°That said, the Legions aren¡¯t fully formed, so I¡¯ll tell you what. After the first class is trained, I''ll have finalized this warlock path for you all. When that happens, we¡¯ll introduce the creatures of the realm across the peninsula. But that means we¡¯ll need a unit to take up a permanent station here.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already planned for that.¡± Ed beamed with a slap against my shoulder. Then turned my gaze over to my workshop with a wave. ¡°Now quit stalling and tell me about your lineup."


    ¡°Three things.¡± I raised my fingers. ¡°Security. Communications. Bulk Storage. I assume the latter would be the most accessible.¡± I explained, dropping my fingers. ¡°Spatially and, or temporally distorted flasks, barrels, chests, or water skins. Cupboards, closets, pallets, entire buildings even. Communications tech, on the other hand, will be the easiest to distribute. VoidNet is already up and running and more hardware and software are being pumped out by the day. Plus, now we have the Satellites. That said.¡± I smirked. ¡°I don''t just want to throw anyone onto our networks. VoidNet is for Eotrom and NoxNet is for the Legions, after all. Thus I made a third internet for the greater realms to use. The ManaNet.


    "It''s made the same way as dark radiation,¡± I explained. ¡°Only, it¡¯s infused with energy from my Mana Domain as well. As such, it can still communicate with the soul and can be transmitted to the dead, and through the void for instantaneous communication, but it uses a mana-based type of electromagnetic radiation I call Mana Rays. These will be the majority of my sales, I assume. But I also have the Shards of Mani for the wealthier clients- the security aspect.


    ¡°The gate itself is the shard. It¡¯s not only soul-bound but soul-infused as well. With it, the owner can treat their property like a magical tower, control who or what is allowed entry, and determine the altitude, rotation, and orbit around their plot on the surface; which can be made into whatever they wish. And, as you just saw, the gate will collapse after an approved entity distances itself by a few meters, using a temporal enchantment to revert to its prior state on approach.


    ¡°The gates in the fence above, however, can be linked to any point on the ground that was marked with another enchantment. Or.¡± I grinned, nudging Ed with my elbow. ¡°To any garages for any vehicles they may or may not buy.¡±


    Ed¡¯s grin widened as he looked past me, imagining the possibilities.


    Turning, I saw a sight that made me grin just as wide. A familiar face among a band of nobles, more curious than they were angry, were marching with an entourage of halberd-clutching guards while their eyes darted between the two demanding structures and the strange men standing before them.


    "Hail!"


    ***


    Lily.


    ***


    ¡°Now this is nice.¡± The cool air. And the views! Paradise was beyond nice, it was entirely befitting of my station. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right, Frank?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± The little human barked happily. So eager he was for even a hint of attention. Still, though, he served me well. Beyond well. The Pink Moon was the finest brothel in Chor thanks to his incessant yammering to the public. With a city as hedonistic as this, he didn¡¯t even need to. I could thrive off the sheer lust in the air.


    Not to say I didn¡¯t eat my fill every night.


    Still, though, the place served me well. He got me this plot of land completely for free. Others got me furniture, jewelry, clothes, and money plus honey boys and serving girls of all types. I was smothered by success. I had been, at least.


    Now, I was drowning in it.


    I was looking down for a change, seeing the entirety of Chor from the comfort of the outer courtyard. It was by Munny¡¯s order, of course. I was in the middle of having a snack when the enchantments, Mani¡¯s Shards, appeared along with a letter telling me to begin selling them under the name of the ArcaTech. Weird, but they pulled this Pink Moon into the sky all the same. One of Frank¡¯s girls went out at once. Soon after, estates, townhouses, and crude shacks alike began looking this fine estate in the eyes. I drew the building as high as it would allow at that point. Now, Chor was hardly a spot on the land below. Making my next job all the more difficult.


    With unbridled reluctance, I lowered the Pink Moon¡¯s altitude; though not nearly enough to be below those ramshackle huts. There, I sent a group of playthings out through the gate, emerging in the streets of Chor not a moment later to begin advertising for the Pink Moon.


    We had our boys and girls. Now, we needed receptionists, bodyguards, and most importantly, bards; and the interviews were to be held immediately.


    Just as they did with Frank selling those Shards, the crowds came running. Only this time, there was one soul near the end of the thousands-strong line that I was not allowed to charm.


    Devil-God''s Order.

 258 - The Stuff of Myths

    Amun.


    16th of Ianua, 1491.


    Eldereach County, Bakewia. Shavew, Heather Brook District.


    11:42 PM.


    [Grandmaster Artificer: Step 12, Master Enchanter - Task Complete.]


    [Reward - Active Skill: [Enchantment Duplication.] By imbuing mana into an enchantment of your creation, you can duplicate multiple enchantments per instance; with the duplicated number being dependent on mana density.]


    [Reward - Active Skill: [Sigil Stamp.] The Sigils in your [Sigil Scroll] can now be stamped onto enchantments using this new tool, greatly facilitating the act of mass producing your craft.]


    [Reward - Active Skill: [Duplication.] Using mana, you can duplicate raw materials at the same rate as the [Refined Material Purification] Skill.]


    [Grandmaster Artificer: Step 13, Grandmaster Enchanter. To continue down the path of the Grandmaster Artificer, you must put your knowledge of craftsmanship to the ultimate test by creating a weapon of legendary proportions.]


    ***


    Five days. Even as the God of Engineering, it took five days.


    The party of nobles and guards turned out to be from a singular family; the man who witnessed my ambush being the chief among them. House Garchid stood closest to the wall from our location; a veritable village of relatively small buildings surrounded by a wall and lush fields. Though they weren¡¯t the first to see it, they were the first to arrive and receive a formal explanation of how the Shards worked.


    To little surprise, they seemed impressed to learn their prices varied according to the total area of the land lifted, with the smaller shards being limited in terms of altitude. In effect, nearly anyone could afford a shard or, at the very least could save up for one. However, they had questions, namely about someone attempting to ambush their entrance whenever they arrived or left.


    Of course, for that, I pointed them over to my dear acquaintance, Ed, who allowed their eyes to feast on the many mind-blowing vehicles their family, friends, and guards could use to travel anywhere in the peninsula with guaranteed safety and reliability.


    After, of course, I explained the Lunar Roads that naturally linked all Gates together. Roads of moonlight, capable of linking to other shards via a simple connection. In turn, those same roads could be used to bring shards closer or even have them orbit around each other. Almost like Leylines.


    Naturally, those words nearly flew over the heads of the nobles and their cohort, but they purchased one for each of them, electing to subdivide their lands amongst themselves and have them float in a cluster together. Strangely, however, there was no mention of what Lord Garchid witnessed.


    Regardless, in the passing hours after, every noble estate lifted into the sky one after the other, increasing the murmur and chatter in town to almost palpable levels; even from the Brook. It was nearly deafening went we went into town for breakfast. By then, the rumors had spread. But with the workday unfinished, all the citizens could do was gossip or approach for a quick word. At least until we began wandering around after our meal. Then, it was deal after business deal until the city began to sleep, wherein the real work began.


    While we were essentially famous due to our mid-year event several months ago, recognition as renowned artificers wouldn¡¯t come for a few more days yet- for five more days. And every waking moment of those days was spent working.


    Ed placed his Doppelganger in charge of sales after the first day. Soon after, I promoted a skeleton, dressed him up, and named him Sid, then put him in charge of sales in my stead. Every moment further was spent in our Creation Stations, toiling in the workshops like coked-out addicts feening to create whatever toys would turn us into Grandmaster Weaponsmiths. But that came only after we fulfilled our duties to the home front by sending mountains of undead and infrastructure and enchantments and construction orders to Silas and the others in Maru.


    With the relatively few skeletons and shadows they¡¯d received until now and the mountains they¡¯d receive later, they were given blueprints that showed a vast complex of tunnels, caverns, pipelines, and peaks that blew even Ed¡¯s mind. And indeed it still blew mine, as such a thing could never exist in the outside universe. The same was true for Silas, to an extent. Despite him already knowing about the grand design and fully expecting such a task, he was hesitant to believe it could even be accomplished. And he used the perfect word to describe the primary objective.


    Excavation.


    Hesitant or not, Silas and the Council agree and go to work immediately. As such, so did we. Through the simple act of creating, divine energy poured from my spiritual body, accelerating my actions to the point that I could perform several tasks simultaneously, and at times, instantaneously from an outsider''s perspective.


    It wasn''t as if I was moving from place to place at speeds that made me seem as if I was standing in many places at once. Enough energy poured off of me to form a not quite avatar, but something to befit the task. The energy would create faux eyes suited to analyze something or manipulators suited to grasp the infinitesimally small. All things that revolved around craftsmanship and Artificing, using pure energy.


    Such things were natural reactions to my actions. But so too was the effect seen with Ed. Although not to as high a degree as seen in me, the speed of his actions was greatly increased. More importantly, his mental horizons were expanded greatly. He could know more. Learn more. See more. Become inspired more.


    With those effects combined with the sheer abundance of material wealth pulled from the Deep Darkworld and the industries of Ilium, Hill Base, and these Stations here, we finally built up the infrastructure to realize the end of our technological road map and eventually, push past it entirely.


    Miniaturization continued at an almost exponential rate until we successfully created machines and computers on the nano-scale. In turn, that created a positive feedback loop that made every other industry exponentially better. Nanotech improved automation, in turn improving nanotech, robotics, and other fields, which in turn improved upon each other. Leading to, in the end, far better infrastructure, industries, tools, and technologies than anywhere in any plane of this universe.


    That sparked a creative frenzy in the two of us that was split down the middle. While Ed created infrastructure, tools, and massive fucking vehicles for Eotrom and her Legions, I worked on sorting through Archie¡¯s data and using the findings to create armor and weapons and more, augmentations and implants that were guaranteed to work on the many creatures found in these realms.


    That said, there was still much research to be done concerning their compatibility with different species, classes, and magical abilities. But I digress. The work was done; and I had the perfect candidate to be the first transhuman in this universe.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    The best part was, she was only a city away. The problem, however, was that the implants weren¡¯t designed for prepubescents; or if they were, multiple surgeries and follow-ups were necessary to have the implants refitted as they grew. Or rather, that would have been a problem. A simple blessing from the ArcaTech would solve that. But I wanted her to become more. And as my protege, she would be far, far more than a mere transhuman.


    So, in effect, she only needed to be educated enough to understand what would be implanted into her and, of course, to agree to my terms. Most importantly, though, she needed to learn more about herself and the realms around us and figure out who she was and what she wanted to be in this life.


    Because I sure as shit wouldn¡¯t do it for her.


    What I did do, however, was spend what felt like days designing the pact that would grant her the perfect augmented body. And when that was done, I started on the stuff of myths.


    I dove into the workshops to craft tools of war for first me and then my Legions, starting with an arm-length, hexagonal adamantine pole. After lacing the rod with mithral and infusing it with the electrical half of my EM Affinity, I capped it with gold and inlaid the head with a pair of enchantments infused with my Darkness and Ed''s Smoke. From them came an incorporeal chain that connected themselves to their twin enchantments fastened on the base of the gold-lined adamantine cups sitting nearby, drawing them to dangle in the air and allow the Tungsten-infused enchantment within to grow the missing poles of my new 3-section staff.


    It was crucial for me to enchant the main rod with Toril''s Weight and my Gravitational Magic, as the three rods were 65 centimeters long with a diameter of 30 millimeters each. When applied to the high density of the tungsten within the outer two, that equated to a weight of a little over 3.5 metric tons each.


    I took my time detailing the weapon of mass destruction I created with no detail; instead infusing it with a little pizazz that would etch the battles it warred in on the weapon itself. The Pillars of Eotrom.


    Poe.


    I couldn¡¯t wait to give her a try. But, I wasn¡¯t done.


    My evil twin needed a weapon as well. So I took a standard repeating hand crossbow and Dismantled it beneath a cloud of mana, then took the time to Fabricate a scaled-down version of the Jaeger Bow and fit it inside the skeletonized crossbow frame, laid in an array around the 3-D blueprint spread about my workspace.


    From there, the drum was replaced with a spring-loaded magazine, enchanted to have infinite storage and engineered to click into place along the ventral side, inside the pistol grip like... well, a pistol. And so too were the bolts enchanted to Bamf back into the cartridge after several seconds had expired post-impact. Normally, that would have completed the design, and indeed it became the upgraded or modernized version of the repeating hand crossbow for the Legions. The Owl¡¯s version, however, would be far more capable.


    To that end, I created a thin disk of mithral with a pie of twenty enchanted slices etched into its face before imbuing each slice with a different flavor of energy, and to the radial side, the disk went. Finally, a small, dome-like capsule fastened to the top completed the base design of the weapon.


    It was the central point, that small dome. A tiny fixture that had a dual function as a rear peep sight. Primarily, it was built to contain a small, twenty-sided die held aloft by a gravitational enchantment. Naturally, those twelve sides coincided with the pies of the disk just below it.


    The result was a rolled die every time the weapon was fired. A rolled die resulted in the disk spinning to align the corresponding pie with the bolt, imbuing it with the energy of whatever was rolled.


    From a natural 1 to a nat 20, there was no such thing as a bad roll. Not for the Zodiac Crossbow.


    A bit misleading, but that was how it was sometimes.


    The arcane words flashed to life the moment I sent it to the Owl. But I was in the zone. I kept working, this time taking staffs and sticks made from divine wood and imbuing them with enchantments or materials infused with Ash¡¯s fire, then imbuing half with my darkness to create staffs and wands that burned with the Flames of Moil; and fire.


    I then took a boomerang and infused it with gravity and Toril¡¯s Combustion Magic to make a Bomberang that would always come back.


    I took the standard issue daggers, infused them with Darkspace to enable them to teleport back to the user after being thrown, called them the Night Crawler Talons, and sent them off to the rogues.


    Just for the hell of it, I took kegs and infused them with spatial magic to allow them to be filled with an unlimited quantity of acids, poison, booze, or whatever else anyone fancied. Of course, those were being sold to the civilians outside, but these could also flow with the force of Ed¡¯s magic, creating recoilless geysers that could spew any fluid known to sentients across the realms.


    I made lunar swords and whips that could split into multiple octopus-like arms, then did the same with serpentine armaments fueled by twilight.


    I made another toy for myself when I came back from a smoke break. A popular item for Saturnian Knights fighting on Saturn''s low-gravity moons. The Lagrange Spear; or a spear with mini thrusters installed within, controlled by a neural mesh. In that way, it was like the Shadowsteel Reaper. But Lagrange Spears had slings attached to the pommel, allowing them to do a lot of damage in airless environments. This one, however, was imbued with gravity magic so that it could pick up, catch, launch, and accelerate projectiles at insanely lethal velocities.


    When that was done, though, I turned back the dial and made enchanted versions of all the basic issue or industrial equipment.


    Mithral and adamantine chains were given umbral and gravitational properties, making them weightless and able to stretch indefinitely. So too were ropes enchanted. And, really, anything imaginable. Everything was enchanted in some way until, using the last bit of weapon-based inspiration I cared to give myself, I chose the simplest thing of all to try and make legendary.


    A butterfly net.


    Made of mithral, the ring was imbued with Darkspace, turning into a planar wormhole tucked inside a net of carbon nanotube fabrics. To make things better, the ring was then enchanted in many ways, with one of them giving it the ability to expand far beyond its means like the maw of a great cosmic serpent. Inside the interdimensional maw, however, was an ordinary region of cosmic space, filled with just one celestial body.


    A Supermassive Black Hole. A gravitational singularity with a pull strong enough to put the galactic core of the Milky Way, Sagittarius A *, to shame.


    At least, it was for now.


    Through the wormhole on the edge of the system, light years away from the event horizon, matter would enter and fall under the relentless pull of gravity. Faster and faster with each passing second, the matter will accelerate and fall into an orbit around the black hole, forming an accretion disk of material that would begin to heat and glow and change phase as its decaying orbit pulled it to relativistic speeds and eventually beyond the event horizon.


    Not all of that matter would meet such a fate, however. Kilotons upon kilotons of superheated matter, a mere fraction of the disk''s mass, would be ionized and ejected along the axis of rotation as jets of radiation traveling just under the speed of light.


    Using absurdly strong magnetic fields, those radioactive jets would converge and flow right into a second wormhole just like they flowed into me during my exercise with Lance last year. By flipping the net inside out, the ring would shrink down to the size of a barrel and that wormhole would be opened, releasing that concentrated jet of relativistic particles on the realms to devastating effect.


    It, the Star Mitt was completely overkill and yet entirely necessary. For, if the history of humanity and warfare told me anything, I knew I was guaranteed to use it eventually. And thus, after five days, my steam finally condensed to form tepid water and I eagerly looked at the perks of becoming a Grandmaster Weaponsmith.


    [Grandmaster Enchanter: Step 13, Grandmaster Enchanter - Task Complete.]


    [Rewards - Active Skill: [Upgrade/Downgrade.] Using Mana, you can upgrade or downgrade the quality of any crafted object by one tier.]


    [Reward - Passive Skill: [Forgers Eye.] Your time in the forge has yielded great knowledge of your craft, enabling you to spot weak points and discrepancies in armaments with little effort and granting you the means to know the most obscure details of any weapon you focus on.]


    [Reward: Passive Skill - [Blessing of the Forge.] Through your tenure in the forge, your proficiency has grown such that tools and materials become a part of you, enabling you to work metals and materials with much greater efficiency. Even with limited tools.]


    They were all things that would come in hand, I was sure. Even the latter two, as they so nicely synergized with my Engineering Domain, working to amplify the perks beyond comparison. And, as Zoop''s father did in my first year at the Bodhi, I could properly identify the name and specs of any weapon I laid my eyes on. Not to mention, upgrading things made it all the more easier to promote the Legionaries.


    That said, the next perks were even better. So, after another self-blessing to inspire me to create, I was out of the forge and into the workshops.


    It was time to create the stuff of legends.

 259 - The Stuff of Legends

    My journey to becoming a Grandmaster Armorer didn¡¯t last long. After all, there were only two sets I intended on making. And of course, they were intended for my beloved clerics.


    For the Twilight Empress, I designed a suit inspired by the Polish Winged Hussar Armor. With her consultation, of course. And obviously made from the twilight-infused variants of mithral and adamantine, Stargrave, and Starscale.


    A solid cuirass shielded her torso in two pieces that were to be magnetically sealed together and enchanted among the breasts to contain her bust in a static field. Being undead, no further enchantments were needed for the sake of comfort, so instead, miniature conduits akin to a circulatory system were bored through the metal alongside many additional enchantments. The spaulders, bevors, and bracers were much the same, only being enchanted to have magnetic clasps and be connected with the same artificial nerves, veins, and arteries. And while the same was present in the rest of the armor, only the Faulds, or plates of armor that covered the hips were made of unveined Stargrave.


    The rest of her frame was covered in a front-split, knee-high skirt made of Dust Mink coats paired with low-heeled, WWII-style cavalry boots made with Dusk Leather and brass buckles. As for the helmet, it was a Burgonet-style helm, with a magnetically attachable face-plate filled with electronics and enchantments to give her a full field of vision, augmented reality, and several other capabilities; not to mention being enchanted to ¡®collapse¡¯ inside the bevors for ease of removal. The wings that cemented the design in the annals of history were similarly enchanted, not to mention being made from Stargrave, Dusk Owl feathers, and Night Ave Quills. Yet they were also enchanted with Lucia¡¯s fused affinities, Blade-Wing magic, giving them full functionality.


    Being a soulless vampire, however, a workaround was needed for the final soul-binding enchantments. And for that, she offered to use her vampyric blood. And so too did she offer to use her blood for the suit¡¯s central feature.


    That feature was a cybernetic heart born from Starscale and Gloomstone, a twilight-infused igneous rock. After mixing unholy water from the pools of the Duskwoods with her Vampyric blood and the arcane catalyst that was unicorn blood, the now-biomechanical heart started to beat with Unholy Water, making the suit a veritable extension of herself. No longer did she have to flow mana into her enchantments to activate the features of her armor. Like making the unconscious decision to move an arm, the suit; from the boots to the wings or helmet, would obey her thoughts.


    Divine Power Armor, essentially.


    However, I was not done. More enchantments and divine materials were imbued within the set to give her everything from camouflage to the ability to fly, depending on the sun¡¯s position at least.


    As if that wasn¡¯t enough, I took more unholy water and created two more legendary weapons for her, making a spear much like mine and a thin, needle-like sword known as a Koncerz before I topped off her set with a final present and a small message.


    ¡®Take good care of Karu.¡¯


    Indeed, the Night Ave that I neglected for all these years was in better hands. With him combined with the legendary armor, Brightest Night, I was certain Opal- or rather, the Mistress of the Brightest Night became an order of magnitude more lethal. And yet still, not as lethal as Zakira, I dare claim. She had pacifistic tendencies, sure. She was a lover and not a fighter, sure. But those were often the most fearsome ones when push came to shove. And after seeing her prowess without being pushed, I was sure my bubbly vampyric girlfriend was an agent of destruction.


    Perhaps most fittingly, Zakira- the Silverskin Lady¡¯s armor was inspired by the famous suit of ¡®White Armor¡¯ worn by none other than Jeanne d¡¯Arc. As such, it wasn¡¯t nearly as decorated as Opal¡¯s. Rather, its beauty was beheld by the innate shine of the lunar-imbued versions of adamantine and mithral that comprised the suit.


    The Moonscale, Moontear Metal, Silverstone, and Lunar Holy Water gave the armor properties that, by and large, were highly reactive with fluids. They gave her more control over air and water than that found in a manipulation master and would allow her to altogether bypass the limits of her biology, making her untouchable to water in its entirety. Like Opal¡¯s armor, however, Zakira¡¯s armor beat with the drum of a cybernetic heart, pumping a mix of lunar holy water, her blood, and that of Carbury¡¯s around her frame at all times. And so too was it enchanted in every way imaginable.


    Unlike Opal, though, Zakira received a garb to wear in her daily life: a simple doublet with breeches and a mantle. Just like Jeanne was said to wear.


    She was happy with that. She wasn¡¯t happy with me trying to make her a new weapon though. No matter what, she didn¡¯t want to give up her mace, Bloodstain, and it took a visit to her temple and a night of ¡®persuading¡¯ her to even Upgrade it. Although it took quite some time, it was worth it, for the power of her mace skyrocketed after being imbued with the blessings of the Blood Moon. With that, and the Moon Maiden¡¯s Mail, I was confident that Zakira was nigh undefeatable. I just wish she named it better.


    I mean, it didn¡¯t even have mail.


    But alas, that brought me to the end, of my path- for now- giving me a bittersweet feeling as I gazed upon my newest perks.


    [Grandmaster Artificer: Step 15, Grandmaster Armorer.]


    [Reward: Active Skill - [Replicate.] Using Mana, you can replicate a crafted item that was not of your creation. However, even if upgraded, it will always be slightly different than the original, having adopted your unique style.]


    [Reward: Passive Skill - [Armorers Eye.] You gain an understanding of the material you¡¯re working with when creating armor or protective wear. Weak points and discrepancies are highlighted with mana. And so too can you know the name of any clothing article you focus on.]


    [Reward: Passive Skill - [Blessing of the Shop.] Your time mastering the crafts has yielded immense knowledge of your arcane craft, enabling you to work at a much greater efficiency than would otherwise be possible, no matter the working conditions.]


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    [To continue down the path to becoming a Grandmaster Artificer, you must become familiar with the most powerful- and dangerous- craft known across all the realms. Runes. The Language of power itself. To become a Rune Decipherer, You must copy five runes and decipher their meaning.]


    And therein sat my plateau.


    Unless I was to scour Nonus or get lucky in Maru with the Silva Clan, I was certain that I wouldn¡¯t see even a single rune for quite some time. But that was fine. I had plenty of things to create in the meantime and plenty more paths to venture down. However, my work here was still not done. There were a few things left to do here in the Land of Artificers. So, without delay, I withdrew and Disassembled the magnificent ship I gave to my first warlock. When it was refabricated, it appeared almost exactly as it did before. It still appeared as a teardrop laid on its side. Only, hardly perceptible seams now stretched across the aft, just above the waterline and, on command, a soft purple glow could be seen from below the water.


    Aside from that design change and the installation of a few other crystal shards, the only modification to the Moontear was a spatial enchantment that would allow it to shrink its apparent size to fit snugly inside the Moonsliver, or even Hogaz¡¯s pocket.


    After the rest of the half-orc¡¯s upgraded gear was loaded on board, it was Bamfed over to him along with the packages and parcels meant for the other captains in his crew. And with that, our obligations were finally done.


    Finally, we could begin tinkering to our heart''s content. Thus met in the courtyards of my shop to talk over lunch. However, little eating was done.


    ¡°I¡¯ll show you mine if you show me yours.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but laugh at Ed¡¯s shit-eating grin. ¡°I already put them in place for their owners to find.¡±


    ¡°Damn.¡± He tutted after sinking into his seat. ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Opal and Zakira. But Opal first.¡± I grinned wider. ¡°So, unless you want to go to the Darkworld, guess you¡¯ll have to wait and see.¡±


    ¡°Guess you¡¯ll have to wait and see then.¡± He echoed, chortling. Then surprised me by taking out a joint and sparking it. ¡°What?¡± he looked at me just as incredulously as I looked at him. Until I raised my hands in mock surrender.


    ¡°I said nothing.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been smelling this shit for over a year now." He began. "You think I wouldn¡¯t try it eventually?¡±


    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re your own man.¡± I raised my hands a degree higher. But he just squinted at me, fired the joint back up, and took a few tokes. Then, erupted in a fit of coughing.


    As did I, in a fit of laughter.


    ¡°Alright.¡± I took out my pipe after we both calmed down. ¡°Let¡¯s talk tech.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He dreamily sighed and stared at the joint with even dreamier eyes. ¡°This shit is amazing.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but not everyone can use it. Like Mary.¡± That got his attention. ¡°And Scarlett. And every other druid who¡¯ll join us in the future.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He sighed again, less airily this time. ¡°You¡¯ve got a point. She refused to even wear any type of metal. She damned sure wouldn¡¯t use this.¡± He gestured to the motorbike parked just across the way.


    ¡°That¡¯s why I intend to create different types of technology. For the druids, we¡¯ll call it ArborTech. Although it¡¯s based on plants and stones too, not just trees.¡±


    ¡°Interesting.¡± He slowly nodded, then began tapping his chin.


    ¡°That said, druids can already transform into animals and goad plants into doing more or less whatever they want,¡± I said. ¡°More so, they can mold the earth and use the aforementioned abilities to create nigh-impenetrable groves. So, in the end, all they need is communications technology.¡±


    ¡°Or so you think!¡± he assured me with that shit-eating grin.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± I admitted. ¡°Regardless there¡¯s also the MagiTech we created here, be it enchanted or powered by magical materials. And while there are things like gravity cranes or hyperspace transit tubes being implemented here and abroad.¡± I gestured across the realm. ¡°So too could there enchanted or divine implants and augmentations for those with¡­ unique physiologies.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± He nodded faster. Tapped his chin faster, prompting me to add more fuel to the fire.


    ¡°On top of that, though, there¡¯s Undead Tech- NecroTech. Weapons and armor meant to be used by the undead. But it shouldn¡¯t, and won¡¯t stop there, for there is another way for the souls of Eotrom to persist after death.¡±


    He only squinted at me curiously.


    ¡°The Underworld,¡± I explained. ¡°It demands something at the time of one¡¯s death. The default is the soul, but truth be told, the Under can¡¯t do anything with souls. It''s the devils that need souls. And many souls that go simply roam the fields to be tortured by devils ad infinitum. When I give the command to report, the shadow on the body that once belonged to the soul opens like a window and radiates like a star, beckoning them. The soul ascends through that window to drag their body into the Under, allowing their soul to return to the Mortal Plane, where my sorcery gives it a new form through their shadow.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s the whole story, huh?¡± he rocked back in awe. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve never really thought about it. What happens to the body then?¡±


    ¡°It becomes a devil. A minor one. But a devil nonetheless. And that.¡± I pointed my pipe at him. ¡°That is something the Under can do something with. As long as the mortal dies and the Under receives something to acknowledge the death, be it a body, a major portion of the body, a soul, or even a trinket that contains a portion of one¡¯s soul- like a monarch¡¯s crown, the Underworld is satisfied.¡±


    ¡°I suppose that explains ghosts.¡± He half laughed-half coughed as he exhaled deeply. ¡°In that case, what happens to the crown?¡±


    ¡°It becomes a cursed object. And it just may find its way back to the mortal plane, given enough time.¡± He reeled back at that. His eyes soon began to wonder about the implications. ¡°Regardless,¡± I pulled him back, ¡°we can use this to our advantage. Those marked for death, be they in Eotrom or beyond, can live on by having their bodies or a large portion of their bodies taken to the Underworld, allowing their souls to be infused into¡­ something.¡±


    ¡°Like¡­ a sentient weapon?¡±


    ¡°Or a bust above the mantle if someone¡¯s grandma wants to watch over the house.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Whatever people can think of. But therein lies an opportunity for another type of industry. One you¡¯d be greatly interested in.¡±


    ¡°Do tell!¡±


    ¡°My Great-Grandfather''s Grandfather, Henry Cole, was a pirate in his day. Captain Darkblood.¡±


    ¡°I''ve heard the name.¡± He eagerly nodded.


    ¡°He told me of the ship he used during his life. An undead or undying sea creature that would crawl along the ocean floor. According to him, parts of it had portals leading to the Shadow Realm, allowing his crew to breathe safely. Even if the air was¡­ noisome.¡±


    His eyes trailed away as a scattered school of birds passed and held his gaze at a lingering, possibly wounded bird at the end of the formation for a moment, his finger tapping against his knee while his mind turned. Then he turned to face me. ¡°I think I see where you¡¯re going with this.¡±


    ¡°From the perspective of the creatures within my world, centuries have passed since the realm was created. Many of those that I first brought there have died. Some of them were Troops of the Menagerie. Most were not. More are due to die soon, though. Or rather, creatures are always dying so long as the cycle of nature continues. But, being from Mani, none of them will decay.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been harvesting a fraction of them for materials,¡± I said solemnly. ¡°But I¡¯d prefer to give them new lives. I prefer to change them into undying vehicles. Living, mobile cities for the Legions. But I also want to experiment with these.¡± I held up a jar of wise rock pebbles. Divine infused, but not deeply rooted. And returned his shit-eating grin in kind. ¡°Remember the second pebbles I gave you all?¡±


    ¡°The rooted ones we¡¯d use for our headquarters?¡± He took the jar from my hand and beamed wide, yelling over his shoulder. ¡°I graciously accept this challenge!¡±

 260 - Payday

    Samson Framer.


    20th of Ianua, 1491.


    Upper Ward, Froipuinx. Bluszil¡¯s Land, Kasian Empire.


    0722.


    [Master Fighter Class: Raining War Mage.]


    ***


    ¡°Gather ¡®round, lads. This is what you have to look forward to once you finish training.¡±


    I felt pride swell within me as the young lads jumped from their beds to see what was up. Mostly because getting them to join was easy. This was the land of fighters. Mostly because that was what people needed to be to survive. There were no crowns here in Kasia. Only generals, soldiers, and a bunch of unruly creatures locked behind a wall with an abundance of ale and weapons. That was a recipe that led many to begin training young. And nearly all of those young lads and lasses wanted someone to train and guide them to greatness. That was where the Legions came in. We went to the back streets to raise our towers in a row along the north wall. Then opened them to the public under the guise of tournaments and fight clubs. After that, it was first come first served.


    Less than a month later, my lads numbered just over 200; and we were among the smaller groups of the Legion¡¯s fighters. All were sworn in and enthralled in their daily training with a zeal that would have been frightening, were it not so motivating.


    They grew more excited as I let the anticipation build. So much that I almost began happy stepping before the coveted trunks spewed from my shadow the moment the clock turned 7:30, along with many other bags, boxes, and massive fucking carts.


    ¡°Holy shit, mate.¡± Kurt, the oldest of the first group of Kasian lads gasped in amazement. A dozen or so others, however, were from Eotrom and had seen much greater things. So instead they were waiting for me to open the other parcels and receive their pay.


    Of course, I went for the gold first and let the boys feast their eyes. ¡°That, lads, is what a thousand gold looks like. A bar, not coins. One kilo in weight. But don¡¯t expect that much until you finish your training. You, lads, will become my first officers. Keep in mind the devotion you must have to obtain that crown. And keep in mind.¡± I paused and watched the box fade into my shadow then returned a boyish grin to the lads. ¡°That your gold is not so easily stolen.¡±


    By then, they couldn¡¯t wait for me to open the other parcels. Truth be told neither could I. Although it was one parcel in particular- a wheeled wardrobe that contained my splint mail, designed exactly as I wanted.


    While my Doppelganger distributed their pay, I picked up the breastplate and admired it for a long while. Then admired the awed gasps of the crowd for a while longer before explaining its make of mag-treated adamantine with an underlying tunic enchanted to give immunities to the heat and cold. Mithral splints infused with my magics were bound to leather straps and stitched to a thick belt to make a loincloth, giving me the means to conjure weapons and use my abilities with ease. The sandals seemed standard too. But the absurdly light material was also absurdly strong and impossible to get wet. And its enchantments allowed me to walk on walls and skate across the water just as easily.


    ¡°But this.¡± I held up a smooth object that appeared like an egg until I let it go and it remained in midair, looking at the lads through a mechanical eye. ¡°This Satellite is the holy grail. Come, let me show you what I mean.¡±


    ***


    Teofila.


    [Prestige Class Fighter: Warrior of Amazonia.]


    ***


    ¡°Hey! My crew already swore in, so give ¡®em bracelets too!¡±


    ¡°Um, Teo, who are you screaming at?¡±


    I ignored Rochell, the first addition to my Sisterhood from the land of Kasia. Instead, I waited for the flash of bright night to blind the room. Then let out a small giggle as the sound of metal hitting stone clanged throughout the barracks. ¡°The Emperor.¡± I smiled, handing her the bracelets to hand to the others. ¡°I want everyone here in two minutes. We¡¯re going into the ring.¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± She nodded firmly and trotted off at once.


    Not even a minute later, 425 would-be-warriors were standing before me. And nearly the same number stood before Ale and Orsola both. They would do nicely for the Amazonian Corps. But only 20 would be in the command staff for the Divisions. Only 100 would be regiment-level officers. The rest would be ranked according to merit. And one other metric. ¡°From now until you begin your training, you have one goal, depending on your blood. For those who have Amazonia''s strength but not her culture, you are to learn it. For those who live by Amazonia''s culture but possess not her strength, you are to obtain it.¡±


    A hand raised suddenly. A half-Amazonian with culture. Franklin Dunn was the name. With a body as large as Ale¡¯s it was clear to me that Dunn thought herself close in strength to us. I almost mouthed along the question as she asked.*


    ¡°Um, exactly how strong is that?¡±


    Saying nothing, I stepped over to embrace Ale in a side hug and lifted her off the ground by doing no more than tilting to the side. ¡°This strong,¡± I smirked, then pointed one of my new gladius'' through the doorless entry to the mob of bloodthirsty fighters looming around the fight pit beyond.


    I pointed, but I was the first to stand in the sandy pit and meet an orc in a glorious battle. The swords and greaves, both infused with lightning, performed excellently. As did Ale¡¯s knuckle dusters, enchanted with her Jade magic to turn anything she punched into something beautiful by effectively petrifying them like the mythical Gorgon. Not to leave out my last Sworn Sister and her spined shield. But in truth, the enchanted weapons hardly held our attention. Instead, our eyes were focused on our young Warriors fighting with all their strength until their opponents were at death¡¯s door, awaiting the final blow.


    As per our demands, those blows were dealt by chokes, holds, or touches that sent a paralyzing wave through their foes before they were healed and subsequently drained of their vitality; sending the warriors writhing in agonizing pain as their muscles contorted, tore, and regrew stronger a dozen times over in seconds. And then, they got up ready to fight again, aided by the strength of the vanquished.


    Just as the God-Emperor decreed.


    ***


    Willard Rowe.


    [Master Class Bard: Lore Master.]


    ***


    ¡°Is Sin still out there?¡±


    I turned to Ritrix with a look as dour as the vibrant skulls before us. ¡°Of course he is. I almost sold him a piano just so he¡¯d fuck off for a day.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Because.¡± I sighed. ¡°Then he¡¯d ask for lessons. That, and I got lucky. A thief broke into that Rickley girl¡¯s suite. They took everything and she¡¯s been threatening to kill anyone she thinks was involved ever since. Sin apparently went to calm her down, so.¡± I picked up my brush with a shrug and returned to painting the last Lore Skull.


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    Outlines. That¡¯s what I was painting. Using notes and details given by the Legions'' Commanders, I spent hours in my¡­ Creation Station, painting while my pay, rewards, and boons sat waiting in the room outside. I spent hours designing those inert skulls to make them as unique as their owners. It was tedious.


    At least Ritrix- not her clone, Trixie- was kind enough to keep me company with her wisecracks. At least until the work came to a close and she bore the same concern as I. But, here in my theater, we were covered. Sin couldn¡¯t enter if his life depended on it. And so, after sending the partially completed skulls back to Amun, we left the Creation Station with glee; entering a keep that appeared similar to my wing back home in Epethia. If only to cringe in remembrance of the boy I¡¯d once been.


    Like everyone else, I received a thousand coins melted down into a gold bar alongside a rolling wardrobe full of newly enchanted uniforms, weapons, and equipment. But that wasn¡¯t my concern at the moment. Nor were the two animated, enchanted, and metal-plated Lore Skulls that came to loom above our shoulders in the following moments. No, our attention was held on the most mundane things. A small decorated box that contained a watch. An exquisite watch. But a watch nonetheless.


    Through that miraculous thing, we connected to NoxNet and were given new orders, positions, and duties. As Lore Master, my orders were to create lore profiles for the Commanders and their organizations, listing everything about them and their accomplishments and setting up broadcasting channels for their satellites.


    Ritrix, as the Keeper of Joy, had orders to delve deeper into the Commanders¡¯ personalities to figure out what type of recreational activities they preferred so they could be implemented in their units. And also to create comedy clubs.


    After sorting through our gear, we debated starting at the top, with Amun. But¡­ that was too easy. Everyone knew of Amun¡¯s accomplishments and morbid, deadpan, or sarcastic sense of humor. At least the ones he wanted to see that side of him.


    So, with that, we decided to pick someone at random.


    ***


    Elsgril Silverforge.


    [Prestige Class Artificer: Grandmaster Dwarven Weaponsmith.]


    ***


    I was glad to leave this place. Bakewia, what a stupid fuckin¡¯ name! And the place was strange. Unnatural, it was. Rivers flowin¡¯ through the damn skies and only dwarven feet thumpin¡¯ through the streets. It was unnatural. And the longer we stayed the more I knew HE would be getting ideas.


    I should¡¯ve known.


    I should¡¯ve known not to wait until payday to leave that blasted place. We would¡¯ve been better walking. But no! We just had to create one more blasted thing. We just had to drink and party to celebrate leavin'' the place once and for all. We just had to get our new toys.


    ¡°I blame Him and His damned blessings! Cunning devil!¡± I shook my hands at the sky in frustration, swearing I could hear a snickering laugh rolling like thunder in the distance.


    ¡°I dunno, Chief.¡± Tuk, the orc I hired as my chef, muttered.


    ¡°Out with it!¡± I screamed.


    ¡°They¡¯re like, metal horses!¡±


    I hated seeing the other dwarves agree. Many, if not all o¡¯ the half-dozen of ''em were liberated from the gray dwarf stronghold and lived in the realm before coming down, so they knew. And Tuk was one of ''em. But there were a few others I found lying around this blasted place who dreamed of leaving since they stepped foot here and didn¡¯t leave cause the money was good, the food was decent, and the mountains were far. Of course, our money was better. Our food was divine. And our mountains were worlds. So now they were here, drooling over these blasted metal ponies with the rest of ''em.


    Mo-tor cycles, He called ''em. Metal ponies, we called ''em. For their skeletons were made of metal. Their flesh was made of rubber, ceramics, and leather. They drank the oils of the earth and charged on wheels faithfully, so long as they were maintained. We loved ''em. Until¡­


    ¡°He went an¡¯ poured all his damn... essence over it!¡± I threw my arms at the thing in disgust. And then there was the other thing.


    ¡°No enchantments, though.¡± The damned skull floated towards me. Although I had to admit, Willard Rowe did a good job designing it with a great beard and two small horns rising from its brow. He even topped it off with a gray dwarven accent to make me really hate the thing.


    ¡°Only a blessin¡¯ from the ArcaTech, Boss. Tit¡¯ builds a road fore the wheels an¡¯ tears it down behind it. Like ghost hands buildin'' somethin'' fast.¡±


    ¡°And now it can drive on water and ride in the sky. Two places dwarves don¡¯t belong!¡± I bellowed. And it retorted in a small whisper that deflated me immediately.


    ¡°Well, how else will we get home, Chief?¡±


    The bastard planned this from the start, putting cities in the damned sky. ¡°Cunnin¡¯ bastard, I tell ye.


    ¡°Well ain¡¯t no use complaining.¡± I sidled up to the metal pony with a groan and started her up with a chuckle drowned out by the roar of the waking engine. I had to admit, she was a righteous beast.


    ¡°Mount up!¡±


    ***


    Elurial.


    [Master Class Barbarian: Path of Twilit Zeal.]


    ***


    ¡°You really are a Valkyrie.¡±


    It was a gasp of astonishment, more than anything. But with Ro being Ro, she took it dreadfully seriously.


    ¡°If I take an oath." She nodded. "Amun is many things. Honest to a fault is one of them. At least to his friends.¡±


    ¡®I didn¡¯t call him a liar.¡¯ I wanted to say, but my eyes remained on hers, transfixed on a winged suit of crystal, steel, and magma that seemed to flow through the layers of fabric and steel as if the armor itself was alive. It looked exactly like the tales of legend. A winged suit made entirely of metal, built for a female paladin- a deliverer of worthy souls. Said to be agents of the gods aligned with some aspect of war. I couldn¡¯t help but laugh at the irony. At the tension that arose from any deity other than Amun being mentioned in the presence of the Vulcan Valkyrie.


    Thankfully, though, I saved the moment. ¡°What?¡± I started, pointing out her hesitance. ¡°Isn¡¯t that what you wanted?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± She quickly shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s exactly what I wanted. It¡¯s just¡­¡± She stepped forward, reaching out to rub her fingers gently across the underlying tunic. ¡°This is Vulcan Ox leather. This is from my¡­ from our home.¡±


    ¡°The Iron Mountain?¡± I asked.


    ¡°An iron volcano.¡± She corrected. ¡°One of many volcanoes of metal. Wherein the Vulcan Ox dwells.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing you need to find one?¡± I asked, then chuckled dryly. ¡°Tall order, that is. Pretty sure I¡¯d remember if I saw a volcano of iron.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Ro huffed and looked off into the distance. ¡°Let me guess. A volcano spewing molten iron into the sky or a mountain of solid black is what you imagine?¡±


    I felt my lips twitch as her words hit home. But she continued. ¡°Is that what happens to iron when left to the elements?¡±


    ¡°N- no,¡± I admitted, then found my eyes turning to where she was still looking- at a mountain that, curiously, was missing the swaths of evergreen trees peering above the blanket of snow.


    ¡°Ahah!¡± I turned back to her with a grin. ¡°You want a ride?¡±


    ***


    Roheisa Deapou.


    [Prestige Class Barbarian: Vulcanox Berserker.]


    ***


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to wear it?¡±


    I debated ignoring her and instead secured my armor in my shadow for later before looking around this lumbering self-driving carriage. This¡­ truck.


    I answered instead. ¡°After I handle my business in the volcano.¡± Then she ignored me.


    Rolling my eyes, I followed Elurial on another lap around the interior of this- I liked Ed¡¯s name better, this Land Ship, for that was truly what it was. It had wheels of rubber that looked mostly like the wheels of a carriage, only a lot thicker, and the hub was secured by quite large adamantine bolts. That said, those wheels couldn¡¯t just turn but could flip and disappear inside the carriage to reveal enchantments that made the thing float above the land. As for the interior, though, it was like a house. Our fingers traced over posh cabinets, tables, and chairs as elegant as the ones back home. Couches and a low sitting table sat before a large window that currently displayed not the environment around us, but Peter fighting a mob of robed drow in some vast cavern. There was a kitchen. A bathroom. A space for equipment maintenance and of course, a bed. But the strangest part was the ''cockpit.'' It was two comfortable seats set before a massive window. A wheel controlled the vessel, rather than reins as we¡¯d experienced in Noctis Reach, and an array of buttons, knobs, lights, and tiny windows dominated nearly every surface between us.


    ¡°Ed¡¯s work never ceases to amaze me.¡± I gasped.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Elurial admitted with a sigh. ¡°It''s impressive. But, I fear we¡¯re becoming less¡­ barbaric by the day.¡±


    ¡°The times are changing. That¡¯s all it is.¡±


    ¡°A new age, huh?¡± she snorted.


    ¡°I¡¯m serious.¡± I sat in the seat next to her but stared out the front window. ¡°My ancestors are from Phaegrath. My father was born in the north of that continent, where the snow is constant and the nights are long. He told me of the distant past when our ancestors would follow the herd of Vulcanox around the iron volcano on foot. Then, later generations learned to train the native wolves to pull their sleds. In turn, they expanded their territory across the entire volcano, creating separate tribes. Then, moose and caribou pulled larger sleds, and those tribes grew across the mountain ranges. When my father''s father came around, they learned how to use their iron and heat to drive trains, allowing them to find lands to raise new volcanoes.


    ¡°Now.¡± I gestured around us. ¡°We have these land ships- volcanoes that pull themselves. Our tribes can grow large enough to cross the realms if needed. The methods have changed, sure. But the lifestyle is still the same. The only difference between our ancestors and us is¡­ well, we get to decide what type of tribe we¡¯ll make.


    ¡°You, me, and everyone else,¡± I assured her. ¡° So, Elurial, what will your tribe be like?¡±

 261 - First Mates

    Amun.


    20th of Ianua, 1492.


    Protectorate of Bakewia, Atford Province. 5km north of Winwell.


    8:26 AM.


    ***


    "Having fun, are we?" I snickered at Ed skipping along the walls of this Land Ship.


    "Fuck yeah!" he chimed. "Now I see why you do it so much!"


    "Yeah." I snorted as I approached the airlock. "Just try not to freak these people out too much. They aren''t used to the eccentricities of Shavew."


    Possibly a needless warning, but I believed it to be true. We''d traveled nearly 350 kilometers in a straight line through the forest to the dreary province. From the Protectorate''s capital of Winwell, near the shores, the province stretched 2,074 kilometers until it met the borders of the Republic of Knighilia to the north, then continued east before the borders of Shujen appeared for the final 250 kilometers of the border. At which point it turned south to run through the Vrurian Empire until it halted at the southeastern border of Eldereach County.


    Being so far from Shavew and stuck amongst temperate forests trapped beneath an unnatural layer of snow, the natives of Winwell had to travel east through two cities before they reached the main road, wherein three of the counties'' main cities were scattered to the north. Going southward, one only crossed roads until they entered Eldereach County. And then they''d travel on through four more cities and several hundred kilometers before finally reaching Shavew and its wondrous enchantments. As such, the only wealth came from the pirate-infested sea, just a few kilometers over the hills. And though the thick coastal forest supplied them with wood and forageable food, the same couldn''t be said for arable land. Especially in this climate.


    Throw all that together, and you had a quaint, relatively poor province with a land area of 542,000 square kilometers, but only nine towns in which to hold the roughly 890,000 souls who called this place home. Among them, Winwell was the least populated and the most isolated with a population of only 10,000.


    A single road ran through the city from the east towards the coast on the western side. Following it into town led past the obligatory inns and taverns one would expect to see in any roadside town, growing larger in density and variety until one reached the well at the city center. There, we could see many merchants and the like setting up their stalls for a day of what I assumed to be slow trade. One other road meandered south of the trade district but eventually ended in a dead end of dilapidated buildings and ramshackle huts, in turn creating a border to the district labeled West Ward. As for everything on the hills north of the main road, that was the High Mile. The only section of the city protected by walls. Our destination.


    Thankfully, we had Grandmaster Artificer Endorsements with which to pay our way inside so we had little worries of them turning us away. On the contrary, our only worry was putting them into a state of shock. As such¡­


    "You two stay here," I told Skoll and Hati as we dismounted the vehicle and waved Pora Bora''s children, Muginn and Huninn, to their perches. Rather than their dimensional homes set within my earrings, they remained on my shoulders, looking upon the result of farms and ranches and taverns and inns being battered by the coastal elements for generations.


    There was a dinginess to the place that persisted everywhere we looked. Wood was stained a deep brown and riddled with frosted moss that insisted on bleeding earthy tones into the salty air. The roads, once cobblestone, were caked in the permafrost of mud pulled in from the roads beyond and packed down tightly by the near-constant snowfall.


    In short, it sucked.


    We got through the gate with little more than a glance at our endorsements and a double take at my eyes before entering a peaceful courtyard that was just as shitty as the rest of the town. Only three buildings were held within. The central and smallest one had signs of it continuing deep underground, giving me the impression of it being the village''s storage cellar or dungeon or both. The building on the right, Ed''s destination, used to be a grand building of carved wood and wide windows with a flat-topped second floor shielded from the elements by raised tarps; permitting the governor or town equivalent to look upon their city from the safety of their walls. My destination, however, looked like a mix between a cathedral, an inn, and a primary school. And unlike the others, people were standing outside.


    "Well, here goes nothing." Ed sighed before trailing behind me.


    "You are Mani, yes?" the older man stopped halfway as he asked. His skin was a deep tan and heavily wrinkled by both the elements and his gentle smile. Judging by the unmarked robe beneath his overcoat, he appeared to be a priest. According to his eyes, however, he was not.


    At least not yet.


    "The children have spoken your name from time to time. And then." His cobalt eyes turned south, towards the rocks and pebbles floating above Shavew.


    "We heard of two prodigal Grandmaster Artificers." A younger woman whose tired eyes betrayed the bubbling energy in her voice stepped in, her fiery hair tucked gently around her face from the efforts of her hood. "You," she nodded at me. "The drow with black hair and strange eyes who puts islands in the sky. And you." She nodded towards Ed. "The man who revolutionized transportation overnight and kept us from starvation."


    Ed raised his brow in confusion. But his lips widened with pride.


    "The traders can come here much more quickly because of you," the man said. "And with a lot more goods as well! For that, we thank you. But, er..." He turned to face me. "Why are you here?"


    "Where are your manners!" the woman whacked him with her glove and turned an outstretched hand to me. "My name is Lois Gibbs. Are you hungry?" She began moving towards the door even while she asked, then the man began to move behind her, yet looked over his shoulder as if he wanted to speak.


    Nodding graciously, I stepped behind them and moved halfway into the threshold, removing any doubts of me being a vampire from their minds, much to my amusement. "If it is no trouble, I could go for some bread. If not, tea or any non-alcoholic beverage is fine."


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    "Water is fine, thanks." Ed smiled, then looked to the man as he slung his coat over one arm and outstretched the other.


    "Horace Flynn, at your service." He shook our hands gratefully with liquid shimmering in his eyes. But through those eyes, my Eyes of the Void Devil looked and saw more. I saw a dream of a city- of this city becoming a place as grand as Shavew. Not to deepen his pockets or to fatten his belly, or even the pockets or bellies of anyone else in this building. What he wanted was a grand city where kids just like the ones already here could come to learn, grow, and develop into the next prodigal beings mumbled about throughout the lands. It was the same thing seen in Lois. And, of course, the same things seen in Ed and I.


    "How can we be of service?" Horace asked after we gave them our names and were given tea in exchange before being escorted to a private office upstairs. "You are looking for requests? Contracts?"


    "Not exactly." I choked back a laugh and smiled instead.


    "Then, you''re here to help?" Lois accurately surmised.


    "We are." I nodded. "If possible, I''m looking to adopt those who need help the most," I said. "The trouble makers. Those most overlooked. Those deemed by others as¡­ lost causes."


    "It is our biggest hope to give all these children new homes. Better homes." The priest turned his eyes about the walls, looking past them with deep trembles. "More so to such renowned Grandmaster Artificers such as yourselves!" He laughed in disbelief. Then sighed heavily. "As for the ones who need the most help, there are four that, I''m sorry to say, are too much for us. Three are troublemakers. And the other¡­ well." He stepped aside to open a window.


    Inside was a room just as relatively posh as his office. A toasty blaze roared in the fireplace, giving an amber tone to the childish drawings on the walls and the toys and books neatly arranged around the room.


    Through my eyes, I saw a child''s room. But, unless she had a maid, it was too neat. There were no scuff marks on the floors, no walls dulled by feet being put where they shouldn''t be. And¡­ there was a rocking chair fit for an old person. Heavily padded, set a perfect distance away from the fire, and aimed right towards Mani, shining through the window. From the perspective of the moonlight shining within, I saw a frail young girl sitting silently in the dark room. Unmoving. Yet staring right at me with the most pleading blue eyes. From the perspective of my Divine Sight and the Orison Vestibule, however, she radiated like the moon itself and cried louder than Cononthoth''s roar for someone to take her away from this prison of a room and free her from the life she''d been dealt.


    "She and her family were attacked on the road. She was¡­ the only one to survive. Found in a ditch, she was, by a merchant. They thought her as dead as the parents. Went to bury them, only to find she was still alive but unable to do anything but move her head and speak. Him bringing her here was¡­ what, two years and some months ago?"


    "Can she be healed?" Ed asked. To me, but Horace grimly shook his head.


    "It would be risky." He whispered low and bitterly. "Too risky for what seems to be every witch we can find. Her name is Iris. She is seven."


    "That''s no way to live," I said. Then reached down to withdraw a couple of items from my shadow and asked to step inside. Their eyes went wide after seeing what I pulled out and how, but after a firm nod, they tapped on the door and gently stepped inside.


    "Iris?" Lois gently called as what I assumed to be a permanent nurse strode forward to wheel the girl around to me. "Mani is here to see you."


    A young girl with skin as tan as Saharan sands and eyes bluer than the waters of the Pacific soon turned to face me with a deluge of tears streaming down her face. They were happy tears. Hopeful tears. Tears that made wet sniffles and coughs echo through the room as she sobbed, "I- I told them- you- were real."


    "I know." I chortled low as I knelt down, pulling a copy of Ed''s chair close for her to see.


    "This is for you," I told her, and she replied with the most surprising answer.


    "Why?" it was a question of despair, and immediately I heard prayers and pleas banging against the drum that was my mind. ''No! Don''t leave! Please!'' And so, I used the Credence Cortex to communicate the entirety of my intent through illusions, emotions, and false memories of what she was to become should she agree to be adopted. She would regain the ability to walk as she so dreamed. And much, much more.


    To make things even easier, I translated a less-detailed version to Horas and Lois, making them come to understand that I''d educate and train her so that this would never happen again and more, make her my protege.


    They were ecstatic and of course, so was Iris. She zoomed around and around the room in her floating chair while we sorted through the paperwork of the other three, wherein Horace and Lois'' demeanor shifted ever closer towards distress. They didn''t explain it on the way to meet them either. And only after Ed left to make some deals with the mayor did they explain what they got in trouble for. Namely, for taking apprenticeships or jobs from whoever or whatever they could; cooks, construction workers, financial workers, merchants, beauticians, diplomats; all fields, it seemed. Eventually, though, the trio would steal, sabotage, and even blackmail their employers for material gain. Then they would lay low for a while and repeat until their infamy saw them be hated wherever they went.


    Curiously enough, they then used the skills they got from working in such a wide variety of fields to make themselves a private shelter a fair bit to the north, near the coast. That shelter wound up being a decently made Onsen dug into a stony hillside. Undecorated and crude, but functional and clean.


    A harsh knock signaled Horace''s entrance and he guided us to a central pool to find, wrapped in towels with their backs facing us, the three delinquents.


    At the center, was the rotund girl I saw drowning a man through Mani''s eye. A curly mane of red hair strewn across the shoulders and back stared at us in response to the knock, covering more scars than one her age should have.


    "Congratulations, Blude," Horace signed with equal parts impatience and gratefulness. "You have been adopted."


    I almost laughed when she turned her head to look at us. She couldn''t have been older than ten. And yet, dangling from her lips was a burning cigarette.


    Her skin was deep brown with hints of green, almost like a real olive. Jewels and pins that didn''t belong to any particular style I was familiar with dotted her hardly pointed ears from tip to lobe. Angular brows contorted inward towards a sharp avian nose centered between a pair of verdantly green and round, almost beady eyes that were far too cold in intensity for one her age. Mixed with a tall and rotund build of what seemed to be mostly muscle, she held an appearance similar to a heavyweight boxer in their youth.


    That, or truer to her gaze, a Mob Boss.


    "My name is Amun. If it is your wish, I will take you under my care from this day onward."


    "I''m not going anywhere without my girls." She spat immediately, though there was a little emotion to her words that radiated with me.


    Looking behind her, I saw two more girls with wildly different looks. Redd and Sam, Horace told me before we entered. Sam was slim and lanky. Not awkwardly so, but in a way that suggested she''d be either tall and lithe or of average height with a lean build as she grew older. She had an acorn-shaped face with deep-set, almond-shaped eyes and hair with white roots that seemed to naturally gray into black as it lengthened; and in her spirit was a mist well of the eleventh grade, with no affinities to speak of.


    Like Blude, Redd also had a large mist well and no affinities and was around the same height as Sam, but with more weight. Though not as much as Blude. She had the same jet black hair, round face, and deep brown skin known to the Inuits of Earth, making her and by extension, the rest of them stand out amongst any humans I''ve seen thus far in this life.


    More than their appearances and the lack of magic, however, I saw their potential paths, and more, I saw their desires for, strangely or not, the same ambition; yet different dreams. And so, I connected to NoxNet to put in a few orders. Then I smiled wide at the three of them as I spread my arms. "Congratulations, they can come too."

 262 - We Lucky Few

    Blude.


    20th of Ianua, 1492.


    11:37 AM.


    ***


    I felt sick when he smiled and I saw those dreadful eyes staring into me. I could almost feel them looking deep into my being to read everything there was to know. Every secret and every lie. Ever regret and proud moment. Every shameful thing one could imagine was laid bare to him as easily as opening a book. Then, he said the thing I was dreading the most.


    ¡°Congratulations, they can come too.¡±


    The warmth of hope and a sigh of relief that betrayed my mind almost put me over the edge. But the excitement of Sam and Redd turned it into anger. And then, calm once the strange man spoke again.


    ¡°If you want to, that is. I won¡¯t force you to come with me. But if you do, put on the clothes I¡¯ll leave for you and meet me at the orphanage. Or, if you want to stay here, leave them where they sit and forget this ever happened. They¡¯ll disappear after a few hours.¡±


    With all the questions running through my mind, I could only nod. And he smiled as if he enjoyed it before dipping his head and walking behind Horace.


    I raised my finger, silencing the rest of them while I counted to a minute. Then turned to their dumbly expectant faces.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan, Blude?¡±


    ¡°What plan, Redd? He¡¯s a rich artificer! The plan is to live it up!¡±


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t talking to you, Sam,¡± Redd growled. ¡°Blude?¡±


    ¡°Are you two dense?¡± I looked at the two of them. ¡°Do you know what he is?¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± Sam scoffed. ¡°The artificer who put those castles in the sky!¡±


    ¡°We all prefer the water and you know it.¡± Redd quipped for no reason.


    ¡°Shut up, Redd.¡±


    ¡°Both of you shut up.¡± I sneered. ¡°You saw his ears. He¡¯s a drow. And those eyes? He ain¡¯t normal.¡±


    ¡°But... drow have white hair. And their skin is almost never brown. And they have red eyes.¡± Sam talked back, pointing to her eyes to prove her point.


    ¡°That¡¯s why he ain¡¯t normal!¡± I growled.


    ¡°Aw, come on, Blude! You¡¯re overreacting! He don¡¯t seem dangerous. Strong. But not dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Yet!¡± I snapped off of my bench. ¡°You two should know. What you see ain¡¯t what is. So.¡± I sighed. Took a deep breath. ¡°So, we see what is. And if we don¡¯t like what we see. We find a way to leave. He seems reasonable enough to let us, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing we won¡¯t need to,¡± Sam giggled.


    Rolling my eyes, I stood and put on the clothes I came here in and told Sam and Redd to do the same. Then stepped out to see the paper-wrapped parcels sitting before the door with our names on them.


    Following my orders, we scooped them up under our arms and turned towards the town to see no buildings peering over the hills. Everything was just¡­ gone.


    I panicked for a bit before something told me to look up, where I saw what seemed like the entire town floating high above. But the other two were already running towards the lot it used to stand on. Towards two huge fur-lined tents raised next to a strange carriage, where Amun reclined, staring up at the second sun.


    My eyes rose to it without thinking. And, as I looked at the floating boulders that held the orphanage and every other structure in town above in the sky, it clicked.


    ¡°Did you¡­ make that?¡± I pointed to the second sun like a child and quickly put my hand down.


    ¡°I did,¡± he said calmly. ¡°About six or so months ago. Everyone calls it the second sun. But it is not a sun. It is a world- er, like a realm. My first world, Mani.¡±


    ¡°Mani.¡± I heard someone whisper. Not Redd or Sam, but a recognizable voice all the same.


    ¡°It¡¯s the gate to my home. But it¡¯s also my eyes and ears in the sky. By looking through it, I saw and heard your wishes to be taken away from here. So.¡± He turned to us with a weak smile, ¡°I am here."


    I gave him a closer look over. He wore robes like a monk¡¯s with a black tree on the front, lined in gold. But it was mostly covered by an artificer¡¯s coat with a feathered collar that seemed to have been plucked from the black, starry-eyed owls perched on his shoulders, bouncing and bobbing as they stared at us. But of course, his eyes were even stranger. Pure white where there should be color and pure black where it should be white, with pupils that looked like a cat¡¯s eye. Or, perhaps even worse, a dragon¡¯s.


    He radiated danger but¡­ for some reason, he didn¡¯t seem dangerous. So, I would trust him for now. However¡­


    ¡°I¡¯m not calling you dad.¡±


    He nearly fell over in laughter. ¡°Good!¡± he bellowed. ¡°I surely don¡¯t expect you to! That¡¯s not the type of relationship we have.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I crossed my arms defiantly. ¡°What is it then?¡±


    ¡°You three can think of me as your¡­ older cousin.¡± He pointed at me and quickly retracted his finger with a smile. ¡°An older cousin you didn¡¯t know you had. Now that we¡¯ve met, you¡¯ll join me as party members on my adventures.¡± He smiled wider.


    I recoiled. ¡°We¡¯re children! I¡¯m nine!¡± I slapped my chest.


    ¡°Yet you smoke like you¡¯re twenty-nine.¡± He snorted again. ¡°And anyway, that¡¯s irrelevant. You¡¯ll grow.¡±


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    ¡°What-¡±


    ¡°As your caretaker,¡± he continued. ¡°I¡¯ll provide for you and keep anyone from killing you for the rest of your lives. And over the next few years, I¡¯ll educate and train you to protect yourselves, I¡¯ll give you sorcery and other powers and other things before you¡¯re ready to become my adventuring companions. And when you¡¯re finished we¡¯ll all be the same age.¡±


    I stayed silent for a few moments in an attempt to make it all make sense. But there was no way it could have. And there was no way he was going to wipe that dumb smile off of his face to explain. And, it was cold. So... ¡°What am I supposed to do?¡±


    ¡°Put on your new clothes to warm up.¡± He snorted out a laugh. ¡°And then, whatever you want. Whatever you¡¯ve always wanted to do. Whatever your dream is, I¡¯ll help you achieve it. What I won''t do is control your lives. For now, though,¡± he jerked towards the pile of rocks. ¡°We¡¯ll eat and tie up some loose ends before we get out of here.¡±


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± Sam asked.


    ¡°Shujen.¡±


    ¡°Sh- Shujen?!?¡± I shouted. ¡°I heard that place is dangerous.¡±


    ¡°I gave you my word you won¡¯t be killed, Blude.¡±


    "We won¡¯t be killed." I squinted at him. ¡°But we¡¯ll be harmed?¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± He proudly nodded. ¡°How else will you get better at fighting?¡±


    ¡°I know how to fight,¡± I growled.


    ¡°But you can always be better at it.¡± he smiled more. ¡°For now, however, I want to introduce you to a few more of our companions.¡± He gestured at the tents and they seemed to¡­ growl in response, forcing the three of us back a step from the muggy gust that blew over us.


    Slowly, the two tents lurched and rolled and stood. Then, the black one opened its eyes to reveal blazing jewels of orange that flicked between the three of us quickly; as did the other pair of ice-blue eyes as groans and yips boomed against our ears.


    Then, they pounced at us.


    I fell onto my ass and felt scalding a cyclone of wet breath whip around me as the black beast sniffed me. And somewhere in the mix, I heard Amun¡¯s voice. ¡°That¡¯s Skoll.¡±


    With the winds gone, I opened my eyes thinking the beast had distanced itself, and found the three of us had been herded into an alley. Except, the buildings breathed and were made out of fur. The one to our left looked at us through burning orange eyes that seemed to reflect off of the golden streaks of fur breaking up its black body.


    ¡°H- hi, Skoll.¡± I heard Sam whisper, and it responded with a bassy woof before it turned to look forward so the other, blue and white one could look at us.


    ¡°And that is Hati.¡±


    I thought about responding this time, but another voice suddenly cut me short. ¡°What about the owls?¡±


    I spun at once after that innocent voice rang through my ears a second time and I soon found my heart dipping and rising in elation and fear after seeing a young girl sitting in a¡­ floating egg.


    ¡°Iris!¡± I ran towards her and she gasped upon seeing me, then looked to Amun.


    ¡°Are they coming too?¡±


    ¡°They are.¡± Amun smiled at her warmly. Then pointed to the owls on his shoulders. ¡°And these are Dusk Owls. This is one is a girl, her name is Muginn.¡± He pointed to the larger one. Then the smaller one. ¡°And this one is Huninn, a boy.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like human!¡± Iris giggled.


    ¡°It does!¡± Another voice giggled behind her. And I nearly fell on my ass again.


    It was a woman. A human woman. But with inky black skin and glowing green marks scarring her face. Yet she smiled so gently as she reached her cold hand out to me. ¡°I¡¯m Lana,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m going to make you four into strong women.¡±


    I grabbed her hand with hesitation, and with much less certainty in my voice than before, I said. ¡°I¡¯m already strong.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± She recoiled, a playful smile spread across her face. ¡°In that case, I¡¯ll make you one of the strongest women in all the realms, how about that?¡±


    ¡°O- okay.¡± I stammered, unsure of what to say as she tugged on my arm.


    ¡°Come. Go change. We¡¯ve got a lot of work to do.¡±


    I studied the horseless carriage before I was ushered inside and noticed it was much bigger on the within than I expected. A lot bigger. It was wide enough to make me feel as if I was standing in a royal courtyard. There was a path lined with stones cutting through the verdant space, a central pond, and several benches with tables strewn throughout the wide rectangular space. Instead of buildings, five mounds that looked like oversized cabinets covered with dirt and grass lined each side of the interior, making what felt like balconies with grasses and flowers positioned before wide windows. A second later, I noticed a similar structure in the upper corners of the ceiling. Only, they were separated by ladders pinned into the wall, making a total of ten on each side with another three in the rear.


    Four of those ladders were labeled with our names, and we all promptly began stepping toward them before Lana stopped us. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about going to your rooms just yet. We¡¯re going right back out.¡±


    Nodding, I went behind a plant and ripped my package open to find above all things, a note attached to a slender box with a pull handle on the top.


    Following the instructions, I set the box on the floor and pulled on the handle. In turn, the slender box grew taller and taller right before my eyes, ending just above my height to display ten or so neatly labeled pullout drawers.


    Desperate to cover myself, I ripped the first drawer open and slipped on the underwear, shirt, trousers, and belt without thinking and audibly sighed in relief as a wave of warmth came over me. And then I looked it over.


    It was a fine three-piece suit that seemed to be made of some type of exotic silk. But it was oddly warm for being so thin. Not wanting to keep Lana waiting, though, I continued slipping on some very nice and shiny black leather shoes from the 2nd drawer and opened the 3rd to find a feathered cowl stuffed inside the 4th drawer, containing fine leather gloves and a gilded headdress.


    Each drawer was somehow larger than would seem otherwise and they all contained something better than the last. The 5th held an adventuring pack filled with all sorts of equipment and the sixth, most surprisingly of all, had a huge bar of gold alongside a note that claimed it to be my weekly allowance.


    According to the whooping hollers of Sam and Redd, they received allowances too. But that was hardly the best of it, for the 7th drawer held the most amazing thing I had ever seen. It was a clock that I wore on my wrist. And it was filled with magic.


    There was also a golden necklace, several rings, and a hairpin to secure my headdress, but the watch was the most amazing thing. Or, so I believed.


    There were two drawers left, and they both contained something amazing. The first nearly knocked me off my feet as soon as I saw it. A weapon. More like a triple-pronged knife or broken pitchfork and a handle just long enough to grip it with one hand. When I picked it up and lifted it, however, the handle suddenly grew long and smacked against the ground with a dull thud. And that was when I realized, it was a trident.


    I felt¡­ something, pulse from the weapon or me or both. Then it¡­ disappeared. Leaving behind a note that said I could recall the weapon whenever I was in trouble. And yet... there was more than that. I felt as if something lingered within and more, that something was now missing from that grand gift.


    Even as I pondered those things and came to terms with the conditions, I still couldn¡¯t believe it. That was why I became utterly confused once I opened up the final drawer to see a box similar to the one the small clock- the watch, came in. But this one was a piercing of some sort. I didn¡¯t know where it was to go, but it looked like a tiny skull.


    Although it wasn¡¯t my style, and though I had many earrings already, something told me to put it on. Further adding to my confusion. But it wasn¡¯t until I went to remove one earring to replace it with the new one was I knocked off my feet again.


    The thing just¡­ vanished from between my fingers. But it wasn¡¯t on my ear, I could feel that clearly. Wiping my head in frustration, I began to look around at my feet. And that was when I felt it. Somehow, without me feeling it, the little jewel pierced my eyebrow. And, no longer was it a tiny skull. But a ring.


    I couldn¡¯t even begin to think how or why before lights began to flash before my eyes, condensing into tendrils of energy that formed words I assumed only I could read; conjuring a voice I assumed only I could hear.


    {¡°User verified. Designation, Chako Blude.¡±}


    That was it for the voice. But the lights soon formed what looked like windows with letters written inside of them that grew to fill my vision before they shrunk into thin shards that remained at my peripherals. Yet, perhaps due to shock, all I could focus on was the central message that remained as a sort of greeting.


    {Welcome to NoxNet.}

 263 - Divine Pacts

    "You can play with the Net later! Leave your wardrobes and let''s go! It''s time for Iris'' treatment."


    "Treatment?" I wondered but did as the lady of darkness demanded and shuffled outside.


    It was weird, to leave a place that felt like the outdoors and enter the true outdoors. But there were differences. More sounds, more smells. A mix of heat and cold and dry and moist that struck against the skin as... natural, highlighting the unnatural parts of the place I''d just been.


    "What kind of treatment are you getting, Iris?" Sam asked.


    "It''s rude to ask such things, Sam," Lana said patiently. But Iris answered anyway.


    "I''m gonna walk again!" She announced with a passing zoom overhead in her chair. And that upset me.


    I remained quiet throughout the walk to town, even as she attempted to explain how it would work. Though it was easy enough to distract myself with the clothes alone. Not only did they warm me perfectly, but they didn''t get wet. Even after the snow melted, the water formed neat beads and dripped smoothly off. Other than that, I was astonished by how different our clothes were. All Iris had was a blanket draped over her seat. But she seemed more than content with that.


    Redd wore what looked to be an absurdly soft white shirt made from something that couldn''t have been wool or silk with some overalls covering them. A hat with a shape I couldn''t quite place sat atop her head and her boots were made of polished leather, with rounded toes instead of pointed or flat ones. Sam, on the other hand, had some sort of suit with the buttons off to one side and a large hat that reminded me of air pockets in bread dough. It was black with white like the rest of her clothes and floppy on the top from the weight of her hair being stuffed inside. But, like Redd''s clothes, it fit as if she was born in them.


    Like mine.


    Before I could pay attention to the lights in my vision, I heard Amun''s voice in the distance and saw the changes in what remained of the uplifted village for the first time. All there was were huge warehouses and construction yards in what seemed like every plot of land as well as a few parks and still empty spaces, save the small hut of a building we were headed to.


    Inside, was Amun and another guy standing next to Horas and Lois, looking around a bunch of¡­ stuff like it was the greatest thing in the world. It was metal mostly. And also metal that radiated with a strange energy, like a strange type of vibration or something I''ve never felt before. Whatever was gathered was all arranged inside a room that had a bed with a metal slab hanging over it. Seeing it spawned a single image in my mind that related to Iris being crushed, and I leaped forward.


    "What are you going you do to her!?!"


    Amun reached his hand out before I even made it halfway and let a burst of multi-colored light release from his hands. I watched in horror as a deep blue light flowed into Horace and Lois while a silvery-blue light flowed into Sam, Redd, and me.


    Suddenly, I was in the middle of a vast, seemingly endless ocean. Not floating, but standing on the still waters. Staring at the pale sphere floating high above, Mani, reflected off the still surface before me. And then, I fell.


    Below the water, I sank until the light was but a dull blue glow. Down until my feet touched the summit of an undersea mountain, where the impact of a great hammer forced air from my chest, allowing a deluge of water to fill my lungs.


    It was water. Yet the water flooded my lungs with the coolness of a spring meadow, giving me¡­ life. Power, focus, and energy along the likes of which I''ve never thought possible. I breathed and the dull glow brightened to a crystal-blue sea. I breathed again and a sea of magnificent creatures came to life around me. Coral. Crabs. Turtles. Squid. Octopuses. A legion of fish and an army of sharks. Whales. Dolphins.


    Orcas.


    Dominating them all were orcas of tremendous proportions. They glowed with heavenly light as they charged toward the mountain. Towards me. Towards Sam. Towards Redd. Jaws open wide, they screeched and charged until all turned black. Leaving a strangely familiar name echoing in the darkness of my mind.


    "Chako."


    I heard my voice as a longing whisper, calling out to the depths like a child answering her mother''s call. And then, I was standing before Amun again. Staring at an outstretched arm- my arm, quivering and quaking from the indomitable geyser of hope and awe and shame and gratitude that threatened to make me fall into a heaping mess on the ground.


    "W- what was that?" I gasped, looking around at the tearful faces of Horas and Lois and Sam and Redd. And even Iris. I asked. But¡­ somehow, I knew. Like the silent gray-eyed man next to Amun, I knew that now, I was¡­ possessed. Or¡­ blessed. Maybe cursed. Or perhaps¡­ all of them. And yet none. I knew, somehow, that I was many things now. Above all, I knew I was beloved by the sea. A Sorceress. All because Amun, the Man Inside the Moon, declared it so.


    All because¡­


    "You are¡­ a God!" Horas sobbed. "It''s true! Not a powerful cleric but a living God! In the flesh, standing before me! Oh!" he fell to his knees, pouring rolling sobs out into the room. "Oh! I am not worthy!"


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "No need for theatrics, Horas." Amun sighed as if he was embarrassed. And what a ridiculous thing to say that was. But neither he nor the guy beside him thought anything of it. He just looked at Iris and asked. "So, Iris, it''s time for you to decide."


    "Decide on what?" I couldn''t help but ask. Then pressed forward. "She said you told her she was going to walk again."


    "Oh, based on what she decides, she''ll be able to do more than just walk." He grinned with a certain unsettling excitement. "Above all, I am a man of my word. I do not make threats or promises I do not intend to keep. That includes the promise I made to Iris.


    "Now." He held up a jar of some off-white cream between him and Iris. "As I said before, the quickest method is to grant you control of machines, giving you magic and mobility without the need for an operation. Like you controlling this chair. Or." He wiggled the jar. "I can use this. It was made from the core of a unicorn''s horn. It will instantly heal your spine and give you the ability to walk again. However, much work would be needed for you to regain your former strength. Much less to become as powerful as I imagine you''ll be.


    "As such, I suggest you become my warlock."


    Horas'' face paled. "A warlock? You can''t be serious."


    "But I am." Amun grinned wide. "Gods can have warlocks just as well as they can have clerics and paladins, you know. And, though Iris can become both, they won''t give her what she desires. Making a pact with the ArcaTech can. And the condition of joining me in my adventures as my protege is something she''ll already be doing since I adopted her. It''s no different than joining the Legions, in a way."


    "What about us?" I blurted. And Amun turned to us, speaking without delay.


    "You three have been blessed by Mani. And Mani, Moonlight, is a domain that holds power over the sky and seas. Now, you have the same power. And you two." Amun turned to Lois and Horus, "Have been blessed by the ArcaTech to help you teach these kids. You can become a Tech Priest and Priestess if you want. But there''s no religion for that one yet, so you won''t have to do anything differently. So." He eagerly clasped his hands and turned his smile about the lot of us. "What do you say?"


    "Yes." Iris, for once, calmly gasped. And after a glance between Redd and Sam, I gave a firm nod.


    "Deal."


    "I would be honored."


    "Of course!"


    "Outstanding!" Amun burst out in¡­ laughter. Then held a hand out toward Iris. "Are you ready?"


    She floated towards him in agreement, prompting Lana to round me and the girls up while the other guy led Horas and Lois outside with excited mumbles.


    "Come, girls. I have much to tell you," Lana said. "And something to show you."


    ***


    Iris


    ***


    That blue light. That beautiful light of the ArcaTech awoke something within me. Like a switch flipped in my brain, I was suddenly much more aware of¡­ everything. Sensually aware of not just my surroundings, but¡­ aware of certain items. This chair and the many things hidden within it. Almost like it had senses that connected to my mind.


    My mind. That alone switched into something far greater than anything I could have ever imagined. In an instant, I learned how this technology- my body worked and how they could meld together to make something incredible. I saw tiny devices- machines made of the ArcaTech''s mithral, so small that light couldn''t even reflect their images into our eyes properly. And so, machines were needed just to see them. Machines. Or magic.


    Or magic machines.


    Such were the machines that went into my body. Arcanites, Amun called them. Mithral infused with his divinity. Making each molecule a machine that could manufacture molecules out of atoms and imbue those molecules with various magical energies.


    The energies that went into my body were those of Space-Time and Nuclear Magic, Electromagnetism, and more, with Mana Rays and Dark Radiation sprinkled in as well; all fused with the synthetic fibers of my bones, muscles, and organs. And it didn''t hurt either. It happened in the blink of an eye. All because Amun spoke in some weird and really old language while blue lights flashed around me, turning me into something he called an Augmented Human.


    Those tiny machines lived in my body forevermore. And they gave me powers. Not the type of powers that kept me like this for years. Powers born from the blessed machine. Or, no. Powers born from my God. A God of many things. Intelligence. Knowledge. Research. Learning. Logistics. Militaries and Industries and Empires. Change. Freedom. Exploration. Nature. Dying. And thus Living.


    Even in the Engineering Domain, all of these aspects of his divinity were present. The devices he either already knew of or learned to create through exploration and research largely mimicked nature in some way. And those devices largely gave others like me newfound freedoms in life, allowing us to learn and explore nature and bring change to empires.


    With those same boons, I became more intelligent than any human could be. And soon, I would become even more. I would soon become an arcane biological machine- a human computer that was free to explore the realms and change my body as I deemed fit. A mutable being, reborn with a frame that could change to befit any environment. The cost was to have my limbs severed, my spine deconstructed, and my bones liquefied before they were all refabricated into fantastical limbs, organs, and bones made of divine metals and ceramics. But that wasn''t the issue.


    I felt like he knew something about that issue as he took me in his arms and laid me on a bed. He looked at me expectantly as I looked at the strange coffin hanging above me. It had a crease running down the middle, with a small window hanging from an arm that positioned it directly in front of my eyes.


    "I''ll remind you again. The research for this is incomplete, so I''m unsure if you''ll be able to obtain an affinity core after this."


    "I am." I smiled weakly. "I believe in you. You can do anything!"


    He bounced in place, laughing silently, but he still stared at me like he was worried. "Are you okay?" he eventually asked.


    "Uhm." I turned my eyes to the screen, not wanting him to see me tear up. "I don''t want to be your cousin. I- I want to be adopted. Please." I turned my eyes back to him, sobbing.


    He approached with what I thought were tears in his eyes to rub my head gently, a deflated but warm smile spread across his face. But then again, his eyes were so strange that I was unsure if he could even cry at all.


    "Of course," Amun whispered. "But that means you''ll have to meet my girlfriend, Zakira. The woman who is now your adoptive mother."


    "Mom." I corrected with a sob.


    "Mom. He agreed. "But your mom is a busy woman. Just as busy as your Dad. So, it may be some time before you meet her. Not only that." He leaned forward, smiling differently somehow. "But this means your name from this day forward is Iris Cole! And that has its benefits." He said, tapping at my brown in a way that made me understand many new things. Amazing things. "Is that alright with you?"


    I found myself trying to copy his charming smile and looking into the reflection of that screen to see nothing like it, but the fires in my eyes were far brighter than his could have ever been.


    "Let''s do it!"

 264 - Reboot

    Iris Cole.


    ***


    {ICE V2.0¡­ Boot Up Sequence Initiated.}


    {TG BIOS¡­ Initializing POST.}


    {Running Diagnostic¡­ 15%¡­ 27%¡­ 56%¡­ 98%¡­ 100% }


    {POST Complete.}


    {Establishing Mana Web Connection¡­ Connection Established¡­ Encrypting¡­ Encryption Complete.}


    {Establishing VoidNet Connection¡­ User Access Verified¡­ Connection Established¡­ Encrypting¡­ Encryption Complete}


    {Establishing NoxNet Connections¡­ User Access Verified¡­ Supreme Administrator-Level Access: Granted¡­. Connection Established¡­. Encrypting¡­ Encryption Complete.}


    {Loading Profile: Supreme Administrator Iris Cole¡­ Load Complete.}


    {Downloading NoxNet Archives¡­ 1%¡­ 3%¡­ 5%¡­}


    {Transferring download to background.}


    {Transfer complete. Download Speed: 60 EB/s. Estimated Time to Completion: 9,333.3 seconds.}


    {Running TechGoddess.Exe.}


    ¡ª¡ª


    When I awoke, I felt¡­ alive.


    For the first time in ages, I could¡­ move. I could¡­ feel. The fabric against my skin, the coolness of the air. Everything. And not in the way that the blessings made me sense the devices in my chair before. I could¡­ feel more, better, further than I could ever feel before.


    I could taste and smell the cleanliness in the air. And I could move! My arms! I could move them! Although they felt different compared to my torso, I could move them. And that in itself was enough to make me weep in bed, if only so that I could wipe my face with my own hands. And though I did, I soon looked down to see a body that appeared to be made of skin and in fact, still was skin. But mutable skin, made ready to change to adopt whatever properties I fancied, so long as the energy and materials were available.


    It was different, but it looked the same. I felt the same. Both inside and out. At least my torso did. My arms and legs felt different. They looked different.


    What was left of them at least.


    Though I wiped my eyes, my arms ended just below my shoulders and my legs ended midway down my thighs. The nubs of both were capped in thick rings of light-blue metal infused with glowing markings that appeared both like veins and lines of circuitry that mixed with something on the head of the cap to make a deep-purple color.


    "How do you feel?"


    Turning, I saw Amun resting his head on the edge of my bed, looking up at me with eyes that poured a million emotions through my heart. "I. I- I."


    I wailed. I fell into Amun- my Dad''s embrace and cried and wept and babbled and thanked him for what felt like hours on end. And with the patience of one who''d done this a hundred times, he spoke calmly and soothingly in my ear, telling me everything would be alright.


    Eventually, I regained my composure, permitting my Dad to tell me of the many changes to my new body.


    "Before we start with the things you''re most curious about, we need to go over what your new body is made of and what it now contains."


    My eyes burst alight with his words, displaying an image of a blue skeleton on the wall in bright light, next to smaller pictures of metal creatures that looked like spiders.


    "The Arcanites used to reconstruct your body did so with materials born from the engineering world of Ilium, in my divine realm. Your birthright." He smiled, booping my snoot. "With their ability to infuse magic into the molecules they make, they gave you a skeleton of mithral infused with energy from my mana and engineering domains, as well as a few other affinities. But more on that later.


    "In your marrow, are different machines." Father continued as the holographic skeleton disappeared. "They come from tiny biomechanical factories within your marrow that are infused with a bit of my bone marrow and upgraded to produce a different model of Arcanites infused with my divine mana and Biogold, Demowood, and a few other divine materials. Since these new nanites don''t have names yet, who better to name them than you?"


    "Really?" My eyes went wide. Then I felt warm and fuzzy when he smiled and reached to pat my head. "Of course." He said. So I thought long and hard about what to name them and noticed his face seemed to unfreeze once I turned back to him.


    "I''ll call them Irites!" I beamed.


    "Very well!" He beamed back. "Now go on and learn about your new body. After, I''ll tell you about your abilities. All you have to do is think about it."


    "Okay." I nodded, finding the digital augmentations to my vision returning with hardly a thought.


    I found that the Arcanites reformed my brain with Data Crystals and Biogold, then connected it to a nervous system made from Attosilk; which was probably why his face seemed to freeze whenever was thinking earlier. Regardless, I could store a virtually endless amount of information in my head. And that was after the 556 Zettabytes of the Noctis Archives finished downloading.


    My stomach was made of Demowood and Dimensionite, allowing me to eat anything and reprocess it into anything else and even store the materials in my upper intestine for later use. Some of them, of course, would have to pass through my lower intestine to be refined into Vehsipane, which would then be sent through some fuel lines grown through my body. Those were like a third set of veins that looped through my lower intestines and heart, which was now like an engine and a battery in one thanks to it being reconstructed with Volterum.


    To distribute the energy from my heart, my real veins had been remade with Tiscer, the Temperature-Independent Superconductive Copper, and to cool my internal systems, my arteries were filled with hyper-coolant and looped through my lungs. I could sweat a bit of the stuff too, if I ever needed to. But I doubted I ever would. Anyway, I got more types of nanites as well. Some were artificial red blood cells Dad called Respirocytes. They swam within my now-divine blood and even had a home between my lungs, which were fabricated to refine Vac-Gas out of ordinary air. It was a magical gas that mimicked a vacuum no matter how much or little the gas was contained within. With it, I could hold vast quantities of air in my lungs. Even while they felt empty.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The other nanites came from my kidneys and liver, which were both made of a type of marble that seemed dusty at a glance- Sterile Stone. The stone''s dust, however, was composed of cleaning nanites that normally sanitized whatever area the stone was found in. Only, these were altered to perform maintenance on my internal systems.


    All of the nanites, no matter how big or small or what their function was, were synchronized with my enhanced senses and connected to my eyes, which were cameras that could sense virtually everything, made out of Biogold and Holosilver so they could cast holograms or projections at will. Finally, all of that was encased in a body of synthetic flesh made of carbon nanotube fibers and metallic threads wrapped in a skin of Noxweave, offsetting the strength, agility, and speed I lost while giving me the ability to control and share energy with machines or the three networks freely. Not to mention, it made all of this a part of my soul.


    "Woah!" I swooned, overwhelmed by the many things I could now do. But of course, my Dad helped me regain my bearings. And when he did, he finished telling me about my arms and the space they lived in.


    "Are you alright?"


    I couldn''t help hugging him. He felt so cold. Like I needed to share my warmth with him. "Yeah." I nodded. Feeling the slow beat of his heart.


    "Here." He held out his hand for a few moments, inviting me to grab it.


    I felt silly doing it. But I did it anyway and gasped once I felt my fingers wrap around his, despite there being nothing more than a faint blue line woven between his fingers.


    "You still have your original arms and legs. They atrophied due to sitting in that chair for so long, so the core of your body was given new muscles to make you as strong as you otherwise would be. Meanwhile, your arms and legs were amputated and then remade into biomechanical limbs that could reattach to these rings." He tapped at the nub on my arm. "They lock in place magnetically using locks made with Vicesteel; as will any other limbs you create in the future. Right now, they''re in another dimension. Your personal pocket realm. I made it myself. All for you." He squeezed me tighter. "You can use them from here to tinker with whatever you keep in there. Or, you can use them from there to interact with things here.


    "So that''s how I wiped my eyes?" I gasped.


    "It''s from a spell I developed from my knives." He nodded. "Dimensional Splitter. But that''s only the beginning. These are the amazing parts."


    My eyes followed his gaze to the nubs on my arms and legs. Things I forgot about completely after learning about everything else. Something I swore he did on purpose. Making me get excited before he finally explained the nubs. ''Cause he knew how amazing they were.


    His grin proved it.


    "One of the effects of my marrow existing in your bones is that you are now beloved by mana. Like a Drow!" he beamed. "You''re resistant to magic. You can sense and see mana. You can even cast with mana. And through this." He pointed to the deep blue core of the nubs. "You can create additional arms and legs made of mana to use when your other limbs are too busy, functioning the same as your dimensional hands.


    "These, on the other hand, are enchantments," he continued, pointing to concentric rings of purple, white, gray, and red lights. Then began giggling once the bed began tilting forward to roll me off. But I didn''t fall. I just¡­ floated there on my hands and knees.


    "That''s the purple one." He explained, giggling more as I struggled to get my balance. "It''s a gravity enchantment that will allow you to become weightless or change the direction you fall, allowing you to walk on walls or ceilings. The white one holds Toril''s weight magic. It''ll allow you to make your body heavier or lighter to account for whatever you build on or in your body.


    "Woah!" I gasped, wondering about the possibilities. Only to be rewarded with embarrassment once I fell headfirst into the ground. But¡­ it didn''t hurt. At all. And so, I laughed.


    Still, though, Dad asked if I was alright and guided me to float upright before bringing my eyes to a wooden table in the corner. "Think about lifting that. But not with your hands. With your mind."


    Again, I felt silly. But that went out the window once I felt something envelop the table wholly. With a mental command, I pulled and the table ripped itself from the ground. But Dad only laughed when the table shattered into splinters. And so, I did too.


    "That''s from an enchantment imbued with Ed''s Force Magic. The white one." He told me once we wound down. "It gives you telekinesis. Whatever you do, however." He suddenly grew serious as he tapped at the red circle. "Do not use this one indoors until I say you can use it freely. It''s imbued with Ed''s Torch Magic so you can take advantage of your ability to change weight to fly at great speeds. Though you would survive, I''d prefer not to see you fly through the ceiling."


    I refused even to think about that, as he said, and so I hurriedly nodded so he''d move along.


    "Now for the interesting part." He smiled like he had a great secret. "Your blessings and the conditions of the Pact that made you an ArcaTech Augmented Human.


    "It comes in three parts." He held up his fingers just as my vision lit up with schematics of the Irites. "The first is your abilities. The mutability part comes from the Irites and your digestive system. Space-Time mana allows the Irites to work with haste while you sleep. They''re powered by the infusion of Nuclear Magic instead of your heart, so they''ll continue working even if your systems go offline. They can fabricate whatever you design to mutate your body and make repairs as well, but they''ll need materials. So you''ve been given a new digestive system, including indestructible teeth that could chew through and swallow anything from metal and stones to venomous spines. Even poop!" he beamed.


    "Eww!" I pushed away from him. "That''s gross! I''m not eating poo!"


    "Hahaha! Well, no matter what you eat or drink, your Dimensionite stomach will change shape to accommodate it while the Demowood within breaks down the contents to the atomic level. Then they''d be stored in your gut until you design an upgrade, wherein they''ll get to work using the Dimensionite within to reach different parts of your body.


    "Your powers aside, the effect of your pact and your status as my daughter makes you a Goddess. The Tech Goddess of Eotrom. That is made doubly true by the traditions of my family, the House of Cole. That is to share our blood with those who take on our name. My blood flows within you, Iris, my daughter." He said with a squeeze. "That means your blood is not only divine but beloved by the night as well. All combined, this gives you the means to meld into darkness and command the dead just as I do. You can even speak to and raise the dead. But because of your divinity, everything you do will, in some way, be related to technology. And, you are, of course, immortal. Although not in the way you would think." He teased and subsequently distracted me with a video of fantastic animals with synthetic furs and metallic hides.


    "This is the second part. These creatures of Ilium who are like you. They create the same materials found in you. As such, they see you as one of them. Moreover, because of your divinity, they see you as their Goddess- their Divine Mother. You hold the domain of Technology, Iris, and whatever else you later claim." He told me with gleaming eyes. "They are your children as you are my child. So you must cherish them and guide them and protect them once we bring them to the Mortal Plane."


    "I will." I squeezed him back.


    "Finally, the last part is related to your pocket dimension," he said. "You can think of it like a house. You can do whatever you like with it and can peer inside with your augmented eyes. But if you go outside, you''ll see two more houses. One of them is for one of our future companions. But the other one is a place me and Mr. Ed will often travel to. In there, lives Simion Lumbarde. The biomechanical undying head that is NoxNet."


    He didn''t even need to tell me what my job was. I could take one look inside the room of blue and see the huge skull all decorated and tell immediately that he needed a lot more than maintenance and care. He needed a body. And friends.


    "Don''t worry, Daddy. I''ll take care of Sim-Sim."


    "I know you will." He smiled. "But being the Supreme Administrator of the networks is not the end all be all. There are certain things I will require of my troupe, including you. Being highly educated and trained in martial combat is foremost among them. Aside from that, however, I require everyone to start a business or create an industry, build a self-sufficient kingdom, learn the ways of artificing and witchcraft, and have a specialized role in my guild, the Legio Noctis.


    "I will guide you along the way, and the Lessons tab in VoidNet will teach you all you need to know. Okay?" He gave me a warm smile as he held out his hand.


    "Okay."


    "Now let''s go meet the others."


    I hardly nodded, for my mind was consumed with a dozen windows and folders spawned from the aforementioned tab of things I was interested in and things I needed to learn, and at the center was a checklist of twenty things I needed to do as I grew older. In return, Dad would grant me more abilities. Starting with something that made me both worried and eager to start.


    Physical therapy.


    But there was a lot more beneath it that made me a lot more excited. Lessons in science, technology, research, engineering, art, alchemy, math, and enchanting; as well as lessons on survival, nature, ballistics, magic, tactics, military science, communications, and music. Wizardry. Witchcraft.


    The Bardic School of Generals.

 265 - Connected

    Blude.


    A few hours earlier.


    ***


    "Come, girls. I have much to tell you. And something to show you to boot."


    Although I wanted to see what was to become of Iris, I followed along behind Lana. Though her appearance unsettled me, I couldn''t deny that she struck me as an exceptionally strong and wise woman. Moreover, I couldn''t help but see her as an aunt if not a motherly figure. Even after one little interaction.


    "What did you have to tell us, Madame?" I cautiously asked once we followed her outside. But she kept walking towards the hills, so we followed; even though our hearts began to drop.


    "Don''t worry." Lana calmed us with a gentle tone once we crested the hills. "You''re not in trouble. And you''ll never be in trouble with Amun."


    "Really?" I asked in disbelief.


    "He''s a tolerable man. But even he has a rule," she said, turning a stern gaze over the three of us. "Only one. So it is not to be taken lightly. It''s taboo to take another person''s freedom without a just cause. Enslaving people. Taking a person''s innocence. Imprisoning someone. etcetera. However," she added with a pointed finger. "Amun is the God of Freedom, so we are free to do such things if we truly please. But actions have consequences. Should you test the waters, even I don''t know what he''ll do." She said that with a grave finality that made for a long moment of silence as we ventured beyond our hot springs.


    "That was the story of my life," Lana said as we began to approach the rocky outcroppings that signaled the approaching coast. "In life, I was from a land in Maru called Odissi. Amun is the heir to the royal family of that land. The Grand Duke."


    "I knew it!" Sam whispered to herself.


    "Now, I don''t know if you''ve heard of the House of Cole or the Nox Clan, but that is Amun''s family."


    "Cole sounds familiar," I admitted. But that''s all it was. A familiar name.


    "The House of Cole is the opposite side of the Lux families."


    "The ones of light?" Redd asked.


    "Yes." Lana nodded. "Amun comes from an ancient line of dark sorcerers. They- he is a man of darkness, death, and void. A shadow necromancer. Among other things.


    "Honestly." Lana threw her face into her palm after a long moment of silence. "They don''t tell these stories anymore?"


    "We were never ones to listen to stories." I laughed.


    "Fair enough." Lana shrugged. "Anyway. Although it''s always covered in snow, Odissi is a land without want. There''s food and shelter and free education for everyone. But, for whatever reason, I thought it was boring. So, I decided to cause trouble. I grew worse and worse until I was eventually killing people who didn''t deserve it. That stopped when the Necro King''s shadows got me.


    "The Necro King." I echoed.


    "Yeah." She nodded. "Amun''s great grandfather. You recognize that but not anything else?" She shook her head and laughed, and I couldn''t help but laugh with her. "Jeez." She finished with a huff. "Yeah. I was caught by the Necro King''s undead and sentenced to death for my crimes; the executioner was none other than Amun. I watched him break his arm to splinters against stone without flinching. Then he carved open my face with the bones of said mangled arm, and everything went dark." She pointed to the web of glowing skin marking her face. "He was a little older than you are now when that happened. But I wasn''t made to report to the land of the living until last year.


    "The reason I''m telling you this," she continued past our agape expressions, "is because you''re Amun''s dearest cousins. Which means we undead respect you greatly and will listen to your commands. So." She motioned her chin forward, looking at my rings. "Touch your ring to the man you drowned and raise him as your first undead."


    My clothes didn''t get wet, but it was very unsettling, reaching my hand into the cold bog to touch and grasp for a bloated corpse. It wasn''t unsettling, it was disgusting. So bad I nearly threw up after turning to listen to Lana''s instructions to send some energy through the ring.


    I did throw up once the corpse kicked to life, spewing that disgusting water right into my mouth. Thankfully, I missed it crawling to its feet and turned to see the filthy rat had grown twice his size from the water he took on.


    "Normally, that would be your shock troop and labor force," Lana said. "He and those like him will do any leg work you don''t want to do. Under normal circumstances, you''d also get a clone. Your Doppelganger from the Shadow Realm. But, uh, you three and Iris are special, so you''ll have to make your own."


    I could hardly focus on her words, as the things persisting on the edge of my vision bobbed and blinked as if they were desperate for my attention.


    "What you see is NoxNet, and it works by thought." She explained as she began guiding us back. "The {Channels} tab will allow you to watch the actions of the other Legionaries in the guild as if they were bards on a grand stage. The {Contacts} tab will allow us to communicate telepathically. Go ahead and try it.


    I didn''t need to, as Redd soon echoed in my mind with a dumb sounding, {''Hello?''}


    ''Followed by Sam''s echoing gasp. ''Woah!''


    "The {Units} tab details your living subordinates, undead, and Doppelgangers to keep track of their locations, orders, and pending promotions. You''ll see your new Zombie flagged for training in the Shade Palace, which you''ll learn about later. The {Cartographic Records} is the map, and you can worry about {Infrastructure} later. For now," she glanced at us as the carriage came into view, "focus on the {Archives} and {Lessons} tabs to learn anything you want to learn and to go over everything Amun requires you to know. Other than that." She shrugged. "Browse the {Store} or {Apps} tabs or sit back and relax until Iris is done. It should only be a couple of hours."


    Rather than look through the Net, we took the first moment of downtime we had since Amun first appeared to explore this strange carriage and claim what Lana described as our rooms.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The first things I investigated were the strange mounds hugging the lower walls. They had what looked like rolling doors in various places that, when I opened one of them, contained a den that massive white wolf from before. It only looked at me when I opened it but I closed it immediately and was almost fearful of my room being directly above it. Regardless, I climbed the ladder and was reminded of a tree house when I entered a trap door and found the nicest bedroom I''ve ever stepped in.


    A bed large enough for three of me sat in the corner beneath a large white wood headboard, carved with the image of a beautiful orca. To the right, leading into the corner closest to the window, were bookshelves, benches, sconces, and tables nestled around a corner fireplace that made for a pleasant sitting area.


    Opposite the window was a bar filled with¡­ juice. But I had a nice sitting area that allowed me to look down on the park-like space below, leaving the rest of the room open for whatever I wanted to place inside.


    After moving around a bit, I learned the other upper rooms on the longer sides of the interior were for Redd, Sam, and Iris, with those on the opposite side being unmarked. The three rooms on the ceiling to the rear held a large kitchen on the right that made Sam drool, and a large workshop on the left that similarly made Redd start breathing heavily. Sadly, the center room didn''t make me excited. It just had a large table at the center with many plush seats arranged around it and what felt like hundreds of paintings, tapestries, busts, and other art pieces arranged within. A door at the far end of the room was marked as Amun''s chamber, though. But we didn''t enter. Instead, we looked inside the rooms below it and were led down a hall ending in two doors. One on the left, below the workshop, was filled with mountains of both plain and exotic wood, stone, and metal while the other was as cold as the winter air outside and piled high with food.


    Our tour ended in the front of our new home, where a room similar to the one before Amun''s was found. The only difference was the slanted windowed wall and the many seats facing it; some with strange wheels positioned before them. Nevertheless, the hour had passed, yet Iris'' procedure wasn''t done so we went our separate ways. Redd to the workshop, Sam to the kitchen, and me to plop down on my bed and look through the NoxNet to my heart''s content.


    I was drawn to the {Lessons tab} first and was met with a checklist that seemed to be projected onto the ceiling. As if it could read my mind, it contained everything I''d ever dreamed of learning and more. Business. Finance. Politics. Logistics. Distribution. Beauty. Leisure. Yet it also had a number of written, spoken, and non-verbal languages, fighting, warfare, and criminal science. As well as something of great interest called psychiatry.


    Thinking of Iris brought me to add something else to the list and thankfully, there was not just an option to add it, but hundreds of courses involving the subject. Even then, though, I only picked three. Witchcraft, REST, and Wellness. Then, I moved on to the other tabs.


    As Lana said, there was nothing in the {Infrastructure} tab just yet, and the {Units} tab displayed my zombie as an {Unnamed Bloated Zombie} undergoing several phases of training in the Shade Palace to become an Unc.


    Whatever that was.


    Again, as Lana said, the {Cartographic Records} was the map, but calling it that was a huge disservice, for it was realized in ways I never thought possible. Opening it made lines of silver light spread all around me to form streets, buildings, plants, and people that moved as if I was looking down on the city. People moved about on the streets, fading into nothing whenever they entered their homes or removed themselves from the sight of Mani high above. In one building, however, I could see highlighted shapes that pointed out Amun and Iris as blue lights placed next to each other.


    Amazing, that was. yet it was nothing compared to the {Archives} tab, for it held knowledge and blueprints for¡­ everything. All of Amun''s knowledge of how to create and master everything from mathematics to magic was able to be searched instantly and studied for hours and hours more, with interactive lessons that had me experimenting with my ambient environment.


    I would have thought I was dreaming were it not for me getting a little shopping done- mostly for the aid of my lessons. Having something tangible appearing from a bright light made it all too real, if unbelievable. But it wasn''t until I moved over to the {Apps} tab that my mind was truly blown.


    It had¡­ games. That was the only way I could describe them. Games that assisted in doing things, mostly. The first I chose at random didn''t, however. {Peek Pocket}. I picked it because of the name, but all it had was a readout of my mind-numbing two thousand gold coins and a description that said the app would keep track of anything held in my traveling pack or any other storage device I held. Another, {Sic Script}, wasn''t a game either. It was a bit like the {Lessons} tab, but it explained¡­ classes. Everything about them from perks to subclasses, including the classes of legend I could obtain and what was needed to obtain them.


    I thought long and hard about what I wanted to be and what I wanted to do and added the appropriate lessons to my schedule before skimming through the other game-like apps. All of them involved the same field of lines as seen on the map but were made to design or build something. One was meant to design enchantments. Another was meant to design new spells. There was one to design things like this carriage, another to design weapons or armor, and yet another to design homes for creatures like those giant wolves.


    But one- the last one, was an App I got lost in.


    It was called {RadWorld}. And, like the Channels app, I spent what felt like days watching people do all sorts of things.


    There was a lot of fighting on the {Channels app}. Battles, they were. Grand battles that were worthy of being written in the history books. But, were it not for these devices, they would''ve never seen the light of day. Now, they were seen by countless eyes from the comforts of their bed. Like me. {RadWorld}, however, had more. Among other things, it showed people across the Empire cooking, gardening, training, driving different versions of these horseless carriages... everything. I was so lost in watching them I didn''t even hear Amun and Iris return. Only his voice echoed in my head, telling me it was time for dinner, followed by cries and whoops and praises of celebration.


    The guy with weird clothes from earlier was here. As were Horace and Lois, and of course, Iris, walking- running around on legs that didn''t stop moving, even as her arms wrapped around my body in a back-popping squeeze.


    There were questions, obviously. But they came with answers. Only, the answers hardly made sense until more visions flashed in our minds to explain it all. Then they became unbelievable. More unbelievable than the net. Even hours after our guests left, I could hardly wrap my head around it all.


    Through our wishes and actions, we garnered the attention of a God- Amun. A new deity capable of walking the Mortal Plane freely. And so he sought me and my girls, and Iris, to become his first companions. His Champions. And so, a mere half a day later, we were made richer than we believed we''d ever be. Rich in gold. Rich in knowledge and wisdom. In resources and land. Rich in care and support. And so...


    "I know what I want to do." I looked him square in those weird eyes of his, and like before, they seemed to stare into the depths of my being as he leaned across the table.


    "Oh?" His brow rose. "Do tell."


    " Me and my girls. We''ll become dignified, professional rogues. Organized to the highest order. Matriarchs of the greatest criminal organization the realms have ever seen, like your Legions. To aid your Legions, our focus will be this... industry of Recreation, Entertainment, Sports, and Tourism; of leisure and hospitality. They will be made by our hands."


    If there was any indication of anything other than pride and acceptance in his eyes, I could not see it. All I saw was his excited smile before images, visions, and memories of domes and bubbles spread across the sea floor appeared in my vision.


    "Alright." Amun leaned back, nodding slowly as if he were imagining it spread out before his eyes.


    "Yeah." I mimicked his motions, not of my own accord. "On the sea floor."


    "So, uhm. My Apps said I can become, like, a magical chef. So¡­ can I use the kitchen whenever?" Sam asked.


    "Of course." Amun turned his smile to her. "That''s why I made it. Your lessons will teach you how to cook everything in the land, air, and seas."


    "Then the workshops are for me?" Redd shot up, slamming her fist into the table. "I can build ships?"


    "Well, I''ll be using it too, but of course. You can make whatever you like." Amun smiled at her. "You all know the rule, right? Other than that, you all can do whatever you want." He paused to turn to me. "Even smoke."


    "So, I can swear?" Iris beamed.


    Amun shrugged. "If you want."


    "Fuck yeah!"

 266 - Glass and Water

    Iris Cole.


    23rd of Ianua.


    ***


    ¡°Compliments to the chef.¡±


    I looked at my dad, raising his fork between himself and Sam with a smile. Then to Sam, rolling her eyes. ¡°You say that every time.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s true.¡± Dad and I said at the same time, making him laugh while I giggled.


    Sam just made a face before she leaned over her plate to rub my head. ¡°Thanks, Iris.¡±


    ¡°No thanks for me?¡± Dad laughed, but Blude answered with a groan.


    ¡°When are we leaving? We¡¯ve been here for days.¡±


    Dad took another bite and shrugged. ¡°Well, that depends. You¡¯ve gotten used to everything?¡± he asked me, and I nodded super hard. ¡°You¡¯ve grown used to¡­ all of this.¡± He gestured around the dining area. ¡°So, we¡¯ll do a bit of training tomorrow. Get you used to your power, and-¡±


    Redd shot out of her seat. ¡°We have magic?¡±


    ¡°I believe the correct term would be Sorcery.¡± Dad nodded. ¡°But, yes. You all have magic. I¡¯ll teach you how to use it tomorrow. Then, we¡¯ll leave.¡±


    ¡°What are we doing in Shujen?¡± I asked with a mouthful of food, making Sam rush over to clean my face and remind me about manners.


    ¡°I must train there for my Monk class,¡± he said with a soft chuckle. But he didn¡¯t help me push Sam away.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna learn how to fight?¡± I asked after succeeding in pushing her away.


    ¡°Like a monk, yes.¡± He nodded, smiling.


    ¡°I wanna learn too!¡±


    ¡°Iris¡­¡± Blude began. But I already made my decision.


    With a blink, my eyes produced a schematic of my body on the table and split the main systems to lay them out side by side- my augmented circulatory and respiratory systems, my augmented brain, and my fancy new skeleton. I focused on what was untouched, sending the other outlines away to magnify my integumentary and muscular systems.


    I wanted my skin to be as strong as my bones and for my muscles to be even stronger. But I also wanted speed. I wanted to be able to move as fast as my dad. So I designed what felt like the perfect augmentations and blinked the schematic away.


    I suddenly got really hungry after that. But not for food. Looking at my cup made my mouth begin watering. And when my eyes fell to my bowl, my stomach growled. So, quietly, I drank the rest of my juice and pulled my cup below the table. Whenever someone spoke loud or coughed or something, I broke a piece off as quickly as I could and waited, doing it again and again until I had a big pile of glass in my lap. Then, I threw in a few coins and took a deep breath.


    It was time for the hard part.


    Piece by piece. I started eating my snacks and chewing as slowly as I could while I watched the others talk.


    ¡°-go there!¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Dad asked Blude with innocent eyes.


    ¡°It¡¯s dangerous!¡± I ate a chip as she slammed the table. ¡°Drow and barbarians live there!¡±


    Dad cocked his head like a puppy, his brow raised. ¡°I¡¯m Drow, though.¡±


    Blude crossed her arms and leaned back to look him up and down. ¡°Are you?¡±


    ¡°Half.¡± Dad shrugged. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t matter. You¡¯re all strong now, and it¡¯ll be good training.¡±


    ¡°You want us to come too!?¡± She screamed while I chewed.


    ¡°Of course!¡± Dad laughed and I ate again. ¡°I¡¯m not going to abandon you four just to train. And it¡¯ll only be for about two months. It¡¯ll be good for you! And after, we¡¯ll go and explore and make some new friends, and then grow and train up above before we return.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going back to Shujen?¡± Blude groaned.


    ¡°Until the middle of the year.¡± Dad nodded. ¡°Then, we¡¯ll watch the mid-year tournaments at the Bodhi Tree and spend some time with the Legions. But I¡¯m getting ahead of myself. Training comes first- for all four of us. So,¡± he shrugged, ¡°you can either stay on the surface with Lana and my clone. Or you can go underground with me to learn how to fight from monastic drow.¡±


    I dared not chew through the short pause; I did think about it.


    "Think about it,¡± Dad then said, and so I chewed while giggling. ¡°You said it yourself. Drow are dangerous. Who better to teach you to be dangerous than the dangerous ones?¡±


    ¡°Hmm... Fine.¡± Blude grumbled, and I thought it was loud enough for my last chip, but¡­


    ¡°What are you eating?¡±


    All eyes snapped to me. But it was Sam to ask.


    ¡°Uhm.¡± I looked around nervously. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, no!¡± she shot up, seeing the shards in my lap. ¡°I- is that¡­ glass?¡±


    Panicked, I stuffed the rest in my mouth and chewed before Sam could get to me.


    ¡°Iris, what the fuck!?¡± Blue screamed but Amun waved her down.


    ¡°It¡¯s for her upgrades. She¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Fine!?¡± Blude seethed, but Dad only smiled at me.


    ¡°What are you getting?¡±


    ¡°Um.¡± I swallowed the shards. ¡°Subdermal armor, Reinforced Bird Bones, And Bundled Synth Muscles.¡±


    ¡°Oh, wow!¡± Dad beamed. ¡°Someone wants to be fast and strong!¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± I slammed the table and giggled after it cracked. ¡°Cause I¡¯m gonna learn how to fight as good as you!¡±


    ¡°Well alright, now it¡¯s a party!¡± Dad slid his empty plate over with a smile. ¡°But you might want to make some more coolant so you don¡¯t overheat.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡±


    ¡°Well, if Iris is going, we¡¯re going too.¡± Blude got up with a sigh.


    I waved after her. ¡°Goodnight!¡±


    I wound up eating my dad¡¯s plate, a piece of the table, and some utensils before I left the table, making sure to eat grass and leaves on the way to give Skoll and Hati goodnight hugs before I climbed up to my room and powered down my systems.


    ***


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Blude.


    ***


    I looked in the corner of my vision, where a little picture of Sam appeared to bob along as she spoke. {¡®Hey, Blude. Breakfast is ready. We¡¯re all here. ¡®Cept you and Iris.¡¯}


    Replying to her was strange. Almost like a mix of speaking in my head and humming so quietly that it wasn''t humming at all. {¡®What¡¯s on the menu?¡¯}


    {¡®Eggs, bacon, and waffles.¡¯} Her voice echoed in my head a moment later.


    My face coiled. {¡®The fuck¡¯s a waffle?¡¯}


    {¡®Good good.¡¯} She laughed. {¡®Get Iris and come try it.¡¯}


    {¡®Right.¡¯}


    I gathered the rest of my things and started going downstairs but hesitated once I saw those massive wolves staring right at me, growling and making strange sounds that somehow translated into words.


    ¡°Chako is afraid of us,¡± Skoll said to Hati, replacing my anxiety with sheer curiosity and a need for answers.


    ¡°Ch-¡± I jumped downstairs to run up to them. ¡°Who is that? I keep hearing- seeing that name.¡±


    ¡°Having dreams?¡± Hati asked, nudging a massive nose toward me.


    I reached out cautiously. ¡°Uh, yeah.¡±


    ¡°Dreams of yourself.¡±


    ¡°Is... that a question?¡± I tilted my head in confusion, but the wolves seemed to laugh and walk away.


    ¡°You will learn soon.¡±


    "Soon, you will see."


    ¡°Tch! Whatever.¡± I rolled my eyes and turned away, only for my heart to drop to my feet upon seeing a black shroud towering over me. ¡°Fuck!¡± I swung wide, hitting what felt like a stone wall before the floating¡­ clothes went flying into the wall with a deep wood-shattering bang.


    ¡°Ow!¡±


    ¡°Iris!?!¡± I ran to her, rambling apologies. ¡°I- I¡­ I thought you were a¡­ a ghost or something! Are- are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Why would you punch a ghost?¡± She asked innocently, rubbing her unmarked head.


    ¡°W- well,¡± I stammered, shrugging. ¡°I guess you can¡¯t really punch a-¡±


    ¡°Ghosts are friends!¡±


    ¡°Uhhh... right. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay! It didn¡¯t hurt! But you''re really strong!¡± She smiled in a way that made me feel... not good, then frowned as she gazed down to see the dangling sleeves of her robe. ¡°I guess this does look kinda weird.¡±


    I began to reply but was distracted by the shimmers forming in her eyes. She looked this way and that for a few moments until finally, a pile of clothes plopped down in her hand with a flash of light. She zipped up to her room to change before I could blink, returning moments later in a deep blue and white hooded tunic with sleeves seemingly stitched into her metallic nubs.


    I wanted to point out that it still looked a bit weird but was cut short by her raising her nubs skyward, creating swirling ribbons of beautiful blue energy that conjured fingers, hands, and booted feet; around and down until they screwed into her arms and thighs, releasing her sleeves to dangle as normal.


    ¡°Woah! That was amazing!¡± I gasped.


    ¡°Thanks, Blude!¡± Iris beamed, making me melt a little inside. ¡°They¡¯re my original arms, so I don¡¯t wanna change them. I¡¯ll make new ones instead.¡±


    ¡°I... I can¡¯t wait to see them.¡± I smiled, then held out my arm for her to grab. ¡°Breakfast?¡±


    She nodded wildly and took my arm to drag me towards the kitchen with strength that rivaled my own; all I could feel, however, was the intense warmth bleeding off of her hand. Beyond that, I could hardly enjoy the waffles due to guilt. They were stupidly delicious, I was able to learn that much, but I couldn¡¯t pay attention to Sam boasting about how she made it. Not after what happened earlier. Her being fine was beside the point, and at the same time, it wasn''t. Although I never knew my parents, I knew I was a lot stronger than other humans- so much that everyone thought I was Amazonian. The events of the last month taught me that much; it taught me about my anger as well. But¡­


    ¡°What happened to us?¡± my eyes shot up to Amun. Then to the empty plates scattered around the table, giving me a sigh of relief. ¡°To me.¡± I continued. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡­¡±


    ¡°You keep having strange dreams?¡± Amun rose from his seat with a knowing smile. ¡°Come. Let me show you.¡±


    Eager to learn and suddenly realizing it¡¯d been days since we left this hut, we nearly ran after him, paying little mind to the bustling atmosphere of the once dull town.


    ¡°Blude, Redd, Sam. Or, shall I say Chako, Orpheus, and Jima?¡± He smiled to himself as our faces undoubtedly grew more anxious. Then he gestured to the wolves. ¡°They¡¯re like Skoll and Hati. Formerly normal creatures that I changed into creatures of shadow when I was younger. Once my divinity awakened, they were changed again. Skoll and Hati shied away from the divine energies of my realm and became celestials. The others became my divine animals.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Well, just like Devils with the Abyss and some demons with the Infernal Plane, if a Celestial dies on the Mortal Plane they''ll go back to my divine realm. Additionally, Celestials can freely travel to and from my divine realm and have¡­ specific powers. Like these two," He gestured to the wolves. "They have powers of the seasons. Chako, Orpheus, and Jima, on the other hand, are divine Sky Orcas. And they¡¯ve chosen you as, for lack of a better term, their Champions. They¡¯ve linked their spirit and souls with you to give you their powers; granting you three Divine Souls.


    ¡°For example.¡± Amun paused to hop off the ground. But instead of returning to the ground, he fell into the sky at a slow pace. Rising and rising above the buildings to call back to me. ¡°Swim up here.¡±


    My face contorted angrily. ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Just try it,¡± he said in almost a pleading tone. ¡°Imagine you¡¯re in the ocean and swim up to me.¡±


    ¡°Ugh! Fine.¡± I groaned. ¡°But if I look stupid I¡¯ll throw something at you.¡±


    ¡°Your conditions are acceptable.¡±


    With a deep sigh, I did as instructed and began waving my arms around as if I were wading, and, feeling utterly ridiculous, I jumped, utterly confident that the ground would return to my feet a second later, but¡­ no. Something enveloped my body in a cloud of¡­ pressure. Not like air, but not like water either.


    ¡°See?¡± Amun snickered, much to my dismay. But, I did see.


    The ground. I saw the ground meters below my feet. Unmoving. I kicked and it receded a little. I waved my arms and the ground distanced itself a little more. I swam¡­ and thus I flew.


    ¡°You can swim through the air as if it were water.¡± Amun continued. ¡°And conversely, you can choose to treat the water as if it were air. You can breathe it and it won¡¯t get you wet. You can speak to marine life too. As well as any other creature beloved by moonlight.¡±


    "Like wolves." I gasped.


    ¡°Can I talk to animals too?¡± Iris buzzed around him like a bee without legs. Or wings.


    ¡°The animals of your birthright." He nodded with a charming smile, then looked at us as he began drifting away. ¡°But that¡¯s just the start. Follow me.¡±


    We struggled in swimming after Amun as he drifted towards the coast, and strangely so. It seemed more like he was being dragged through the air rather than flying or swimming like Iris or the rest of us. But at least she helped us deal with orienting ourselves and helped us when we grew nauseous. Instead, he told us to focus inside ourselves to feel for strength or power that wasn¡¯t there before. It didn¡¯t take long to find it. Not as long as it did to manifest it.


    ¡°Aim your palm at a tree and imagine shooting at it,¡± he said. ¡°Like a burst of eldritch power.¡± He even demonstrated with blasts of darkness and lightning. But it took us several minutes to fire anything. Well, it took me several minutes.


    Iris got it almost immediately, shooting out a beam of deep blue light from her hand that obliterated a small tree. ¡®But she''s¡­ her.¡¯ I thought. The three of us did not, as our skepticism- our inability to tell when Amun was joking or being serious kept us from realizing the truth. In a way, though, it was that skepticism that made me realize my power. I went without his instruction to look inside myself for strength or power and instead searched for a presence. Chako. I imagined, over and over, my first dream of her charging through the sea, then sent that very image through my arm.


    In return, my arm began to glow with a silvery-blue light and form a fall of water at my wrist, only to then disappear into my hand before a powerful geyser fired from my palm. It looked like a pillar of glass as it crossed the distance to a young tree. And like Iris'' display, it shattered into uncountable droplets and wood chunks.


    After sharing my findings, Sam went on to fire a powerful jet of steam followed by Redd firing a blast of ice shortly after, bringing about a proud look from Amun and some celebratory cheers from Iris. Then we went on to practice and practice some more until we could do it on command. Our training was not complete, though. We went on for the rest of the day, learning that the undead shadows couldn¡¯t die before we killed them over and over again with our enchanted tridents or spears, because that was Amun¡¯s favored weapon; as his chosen, we had to use them too.


    Like his, their handles could become longer or shorter, they could be controlled telepathically, though by different means; and their blades could be dulled or sharpened at will. And yet we also had other weapons. Iris got a strange bow with pulleys in it. Sam got a fancy pair of knives. Redd got a mace that was also a bunch of tools.


    I got my gloves.


    ¡°Huh?¡± I looked at the fine leather wrapped around my hands. They looked completely normal, dyed the same silvery blue as my magic, and made exceptionally well. But they weren''t weapons.


    ¡°Clench your fists and flex a bit of magic into them,¡± Amun instructed.


    I did and began laughing like a crazy person as four coral spikes grew out of my knuckles. ¡°That¡¯s bad!¡±


    Terrible, they were terrible. The things those gloves, our weapons, and our magic did to the undead shadows were terrible, and we terrorized them all day. Only pausing to take pointers, eat lunch, and use the bathroom until we returned to the hut for dinner.


    It was a dinner like any other until it came to an end and Amun suddenly got serious. He told us to never let anyone bully or step on us. Even to someone of royal standing or someone of immense power, we were to stand up for ourselves and our ideals, for we were of royal standing. We were of immense power. And so, we were to stand our ground against everything; doubly so when we went to Shujen.


    ¡°If anyone tries to do something to you that you don¡¯t like, something that makes you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, tell them so. If they continue, protect yourself at all costs. Even if you have to kill them. Do any and everything to defend yourselves from harm. Don¡¯t let anyone hurt you. And if they do, never let them get away with it. Understood?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s like music to my ears.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Amun grinned wickedly. ¡°We leave tomorrow.¡±

 267 - Divine Whips

    Amun.


    ***


    "I didn''t think I''d see something like this for another fifty years!" I heard a familiar laugh echo through our temporary abode just moments before the trademark shit-eating grin fell into view. But it wasn''t aimed at me.


    "Hello." A hand reached out to the child clinging to my hip. "We met before but haven''t been properly introduced." He smiled wider, bending low in a dramatic bow. "Edward Pascal, at your service."


    "Uncle Ed." She corrected with a mumble, triggering a raised eyebrow.


    "I adopted her. She''s my daughter." I explained with a shrug.


    The second brow raised. "Uncle¡­?"


    "I see you as my brother." I shrugged again. "You, Toril, Jaimess, and Gio. Jonet and Letta are my sisters. Roheisa and Lucia are... cousins."


    "I see." He looked away nodding, as if that would hide the sudden shine in his eyes. "Uncle Ed, it is then." He turned back a moment later with an outstretched hand.


    "Iris Cole." She finally beamed, taking his hand with surprising strength.


    "Blude." Came the calm call soon after Ed massaged the aches away from his hand.


    "How old are you?" he almost gasped once he took her hand and stared evenly into her emerald eyes.


    "Nine."


    "You''re tall for a nine-year-old." Ed chortled in awe. "And strong. Got some Amazonian in you?"


    "I dunno." Blude shrugged dryly. "Ask my parents."


    I couldn''t help but snicker, drawing a glare from Blude and a sheepish ''you''re not helping'' look from Ed that only made me laugh harder. Although, I did help.


    "Blude, Redd, and Sam have taken apprenticeships in many crafts," I said before bouncing Iris on my hip. "And Iris is my protege. We were just starting to browse through the many fantastic things you create."


    His brows rose at once, coinciding with a beaming smile that forced him into a backpedal toward the door. "Sounds like I''m just in time for a tour?"


    "That you are." I chortled, then paused once outside to awe the girls with a wise rock swallowing our cabin whole, leaving behind a patch of rough dirt that would soon be claimed by the snowfall. And thus the tour began.


    "Lord Atford was desperate to elevate the province up to the state of an esteemed county," Ed whispered behind his hand, though they heard him loud and clear across the Net. "His land is the only county in Bakewia stuck as a province, so he was almost begging for the same sponsorship as Horas, only for all of his cities. He saved up a lot of gold for it."


    "Is that why we''re poor?" Blude seethed from behind.


    "You''re not poor anymore and neither is anyone here." Ed pointed out before nodding. "But, yeah. Although a bit of politics goes into it as well. Anyway, the deal was the same across most of Bakewia. The region would be sponsored by an artificer. In this case Pascal Industries."


    He paused to lead us into the ground-based town from the western side. Where what before was a tattered mash of worn buildings and shacks was now a neat complex of curved stone roads, heated by a buried pipe network that kept the snow melted and feet toasty. The buildings and blocks, separated into oblong or free-flowing shapes, contained everything from parks or gardens to garages and workshops for the abodes floating high above. The plots across the former well, however, were a different story. Beyond that park of fruit trees and heated ponds sat a district of parking lots and taxi stands for Ed''s transportation revolution.


    "My plan to bring wealth to the city is threefold. First." He gestured across the way. "I''m setting up a driving school and a chartering business to open up some jobs and to increase travel between the counties and their cities. Second, I''m opening up a school of engineering, with free admission for everyone in the county. And, third."


    We followed his gaze to the High Mile, where the renovated inns and taverns that no longer supported private abodes stacked atop their main floors towered beautifully over the road. Now, they were elegant structures with winding staircases leading from the road to their vast porches, where salesmen stood at the ready to bring passersby inside their walls; and behind it, was the crown jewel.


    "The city of Winwell is now the site of my sales and distribution center." Ed declared as our eyes fell on a scaled-down arcology rising above the surrounding city like a giant redwood. Only, it was made in the likeness of a mushroom, with swings, bridges, and suspended platforms dangling from its domed cap. "Due to its structure, it works in reverse." He teased before leading us inside. But we soon saw what he meant.


    Pie-shaped modules were wrapped around the elevator shaft in the center. And while this one was an elegant foyer, the others were self-enclosed environments filled with an array of vehicles being packaged for distribution. There were bicycles, electric wheels, skateboards, hoverboards, cars, and motorcycles in a caged cityscape. Water toys, yachts, and boats floated atop an indoor ocean. Dune buggies, trucks, trains, and planes sat arranged neatly in a vast desert. And more.


    "The cheaper and more affordable models run off of ethanol," Ed explained. "Anyone with a hint of alchemical or brewing experience will be able to make and sell fuel on top of potions and ale." He snickered. Then quickly waved the comment away. "The more expensive ones are enchanted and, of course, only the Legions are privy to the divine ones. They aren''t even made here."


    "This is amazing!" Redd gasped in awe multiple times during our short journey to the lift.


    "I agree," I added shortly thereafter. Ed had truly outdone himself.


    Every vehicle we saw below was being tested on the floor above. Thoroughly. On the third floor, we saw enchantments being installed in many of the vessels before they joined the un-enchanted crafts for polishing and detailing. On and on, up and up, we passed by every vehicle imaginable as they fell through the floors like a vertical assembly line. On the top floor, however, was the truly amazing part.


    With one exception, the entirety of the mushroom''s domed cap was windowed in transparent aluminum. The sole exception was the outer rim. Wherein an automated interdimensional storage and retrieval system was housed and linked to the rest of the tower below. In many cases, such as the docking bays suspended from the cap or the hangars above them, the windows were simply used for natural lighting. In Ed''s office, however, the window was akin to a transparent dry-erase smart board. Like everything else in the building, it was connected to NoxNet and thus controlled or, in this case, written on with Ed''s thoughts. And even with all of that area on which to write, it was nearly full.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    The smallest area imaginable was dedicated to the building itself, all neatly arranged with readouts of raw materials sitting in the bottom left corner, fluctuating continuously. Inventories and charts for supply and demand for various components sat next to it while designs or prototypes for new makes and models sat just above it. Everything else on the glassed ceiling contained plans. Plans to create a peninsula-wide chartering business. Plans to allow the orphans to take apprenticeships under him. Plans to train and pursue other paths once his work here was finished.


    Plans with redacted lines to censor them from unapproved eyes.


    Redacted plans that were revealed once we were seated in Ed''s office.


    "Alright." He eagerly rubbed his hands together. "I''ve organized every type of vehicle we have into tiers and integrated them with the ranks. I wanted to run it by you before making it official."


    "Very well."


    "Alright, so. Until they are promoted to Staff Sergeant or are commissioned as a Lieutenant, they will use the vehicles assigned to the Legion at the behest of their commander; dubbed Tier Zero for Normal Craft and Tier One for Magicraft. Once they achieve that rank, they''ll be granted a personalized craft in Tier Two. However, in special cases, other Legionaries will use Tier Two craft- or Fast Movers- as well."


    With a wave, five skeletons approached, one holding Iris'' old chair while three others led bicycles up to the other girls.


    "It''s just what I wanted, thank you." I smiled at the skeleton that approached me, receiving a gracious bow from the undead and a few odd stares from a few of the living in return. "And thank you." I nodded at Ed before taking my electric wheel into my shadow. "I''ll give it a proper ride later."


    "Of course." He waved dismissively.


    "Ooh! I want one like this!" Iris screamed behind a two-seater, then proceeded to make cooing sounds of awe as she ran through the trunk-mounted kitchen.


    "When you''re older," I told her.


    "Not if I make one first!" She mumbled.


    I laughed, making Ed pause before unveiling a land skiff. Or, in my language, a car. An enchanted car with a spatially enchanted interior much like my hut outside, which was indeed the template for the layout.


    "Tier Three are enchanted Mobile Campers for teams and squads in nomadic, expeditionary, research, or exploratory units. They are capable of remote operation and have all the essentials, with little more to bear." Ed''s Lore Skull explained through a PA system using a robotic tone that rang me with nostalgia.


    "We''re working on the personality." Ed shrugged meekly.


    "No, no." I quickly shook my head. "It fits the theme."


    "Right," Ed remarked unconvincingly. "They have the added benefit of a common storage unit and a space for small industry. But I''m sure you need something better?"


    "A correct assumption." I followed behind him with a snort.


    Through a seamless door, we entered a warehouse veritably filled with refined metals, magic or divine materials, and components neatly arranged around two familiar but unmoving faces. The first was the carriage Ed made for me all those years ago. The second was a divine fox. It wasn''t Kit, however. The crafty shadow-turned-Lunar Fox was among the few still thriving in Eotrom. But one of Kit''s offspring didn''t make the trials of nature that surely existed in my divine realm. And so¡­


    "It is possible," Ed said with a regrettable sigh. "If they are divine, it can work on the Mortal Plane without you being present. I only need a divine wise rock. But that''s the interesting part." He smiled weakly, then more when my brows rose in anticipation.


    "The divine pebble is what makes them, for lack of a better term, Undying. But not just that. They become closer to an undying creature with an interior structure ready to be claimed by a resident or rider. As such," he paused, allowing the shit-eating grin to return in full force. "Another wise rock can be merged with them. But only if the creature is large enough."


    A helpless shrug followed the masterfully placed downside. Besides, Ed undoubtedly had a solution. "Because of that, the Tier Four vehicles are the ones without an additional wise rock. As a Roving Village fit for a platoon, it has a shared barracks for every team, plus a garage for medium industry, a witch hut, and a garden center. They''re much like the tier two''s, only they navigate under their own volition."


    With a pleading gesture, he asked to demonstrate and I gave him the go-ahead with a nod, then watched the girls'' reactions upon seeing metal and components meld into flesh and fur to create a sports carriage-type design. A sleek body with a bushy tail and a fox-shaped cockpit featuring two eye-shaped windows and intake nostrils. Not to mention, four legs. It even had a facsimile of fur that faded to a blue-white near the legs. And the same fur was seen as grass on the interior courtyard, giving the impression of a shag carpet.


    I soon got a vicarious tour of the rib-embedded townhouses and the tail-mounted workshops once the girls took it upon themselves to explore within. But I wasn''t complaining. Nor did I go inside, though. Instead, I clicked my teeth and took a few steps around the warehouse; hearing in response a deep growl before the vessel began stalking forward to heel.


    "Fascinating!" I looked at Ed with a dumbfounded expression. "What of the others?"


    "Tier Five are Mobile Cities for the companies." He explained, pulling a holographic display from the roof that depicted¡­ well, a city. "They''ll have cultural halls, witch cabins, agricultural centers with stables, guest lodges, apartment buildings, heavy industry. Everything except staff-level assets and civilian populations. I, erm- I designed this for Hatchi. I hope, through this, he''ll live on."


    "Thank you." I bowed. "It means a lot."


    He gave a subtle nod to quickly move past the subject, then gestured to the window above. Ed was never overtly sentimental- a trait I could appreciate. "Tier Six is a Battalion Cruising County. With all the aforementioned amenities, plus advanced industry, hangars, shipyards, and domiciles for contractors, allies, and support or garrison units. Through this, those in the rear can remain in the realm. Whether that be in the sky, at sea, or underground.


    "And then Tiers Seven, Eight, Nine, and Ten, are Mani''s Shards, Asteroid Stations, Matrioska Moons, and the Woven Worlds of the Empire."


    "I have an idea for my tier six. But it won''t come until later. For now," I sighed, conjuring an abundance of lunar materials and components to be placed beside Hati''s colossal cadaver and a divine wise rock.


    Withdrawing my divine essence alongside a mix of dissimilar magics, I kneaded it over the fifteen-meter length of Hatchi''s corpse as well as the materials, components, and enchantments, imagining the result of my creation before the perk took hold of the moonlight-infused metals, wood, and stone and merged them with the Undying essence of the ArcaTech to [Fabricate] a living city of baroque elegance.


    When all was said and done, the least interesting part was Hatchi''s eight arms. Reinforced with metals, stone, and wood, they were, and yet they retained their fluidity of movement despite the new rigidity of the now hollowed flesh.


    Or, mostly hollowed.


    Said arms had been filled with infrastructure and furniture to make eight districts for my future companions, leaving me and my current companions to take up residence in and around the brain. Every other system or organ, however, had been augmented in some way. Including said brain.


    Hatchi''s reinforced beak became an intake and sorting center for any resources ''consumed'' and subsequently sorted in the Buccal Mass. From there, materials would be distributed to one of two refinement centers formed within the anterior or posterior salivary glands before they continued down the industrialized esophagus for refinement. As biology dictated, much of the refined goods were stored in the crop while a fraction of it continued to the light industrial centers in the stomach or the spaces of medium industry in the cecum. Either way, they wound up in the distribution center, which was fabricated out of the former digestive gland.


    As for the rectum. Well, that had more or less the same function as normal. It was the shuttle launching bay. But the same concept continued throughout. The heart was made into the equivalent of a nuclear fusion reactor. The veins and arteries were lined with cables before they were pumped with coolant. The gonad was turned into a grand palace of relaxation and luxury. The kidneys were made into a waste processing plant and the brain became the operations center, surrounded by kitchens, offices, workshops, server rooms, and estates.


    But that wasn''t the best part. The gravity crystals weren''t even the best part. Nor was the best part the successful infusion of a deeply rooted divine wise rock.


    "Land," I commanded, and the house-sized octopus obliged by tucking its arms in a line below its body while the texture and color of its arms shifted, eventually forming four wheels of chrome and rubber straddling an elegant frame.


    "Woah!" Ed and Iris chimed.


    "Sea," I commanded. And again, the car obliged by fanning out its arms to form a bow shape, textured with the likeness of steel engraved with clouds of blue silver.


    "Air," I commanded. And this time, the arms coiled up beside themselves, forming a flat disk atop a bulbous cabin that bobbed gently in the air. Then I looked at the fox. "Sleep.


    "Dock," I then said to the floating vessel, probing it to lift the curled-up fox in a tractor beam and guide it into the siphon. "Land," I commanded a final time, then turned my gaze to the girls. "Let''s go. We''re off to Shujen."

 268 - Is This... Fame?

    That night, after we departed for Shujen, Doyle notified me of a storm brewing in the far north, beyond the Bodhi Tree. So, while Blude, Iris, Redd, and Sam slept soundly through the night, I looked through Mani''s Eye. Though, not to gaze down on my friends or subordinates or to find the wicked or the hopeful. I scanned the Peninsula, if only to see the reaction from those who watched Mani''s shards rise skyward. And not the reaction from all, but from those who, for whatever reason, thought heavily about Amun, the Eternal Champion.


    The first was a bearded man of brown skin who stood tall and proud in the fields of the Vrurian Empire. The land was just south of Bakewia, but being the second-largest country in the land, there was no hope he''d notice me on my journey. And I wouldn''t care to detour to him.


    Not yet.


    So I watched him. I listened to him mumble about the familiar magic in the air as he looked south towards an unmoving lightning storm rising to the sky''s edge to embrace the pale rock in a blanket of midnight clouds; then mumbled to himself once more. "What have you become, Storm Thief?"


    Similarly, what appeared to be a child could be seen deep in the bogs of Brybs. That child of bones wasn''t looking up at the woven world, however, they were bending low to pick up a strange, blacker-than-black feather. Then, their faceless visage turned southward to watch the setting sun in silence.


    On the contrary, I saw what appeared to be an elf of bronze skin admiring the sunset without even gazing upon it, instead gazing upon the violets and oranges and blues that added to the beauty of Mani from on high and feeling. Feeling and becoming one with the potent but contradictory energies swirling in a land called Bakewia far below. They saw it in the houses and huts floating above the ground, and again even higher. High, where the once-lonely eye had new friends orbiting about it. A storm. A small sun, dimmed by a cloud of smoke. Balls of water and frost and other newly woven worlds. And then they smiled, closed their eyes, and almost sang in a whisper. "I cannot wait until we meet, Devil of the Fae."


    I wished I could say the same but it seemed many others wished the same as well. Zeff Yurich, for example. He stared longingly at the distant points on the horizon and the larger ones high above. So much so that I could remember and imagine him giving lectures about how those fantastic worlds took shape and what could be found in them. So much so that I could feel his regret for not taking the chance with Doyle and Olga. Thus I gave him some assurance- a sign that it wasn''t too late. But only after he surprised me with a mumble. "Why couldn''t 999 have been the last?"


    I had no answer to his question. Not to say it was aimed at me. Nor were the inquires of an uncannily familiar drow female looking over the shoulder of a younger male to see into the night.


    How familiar she looked, and how similar the male dressed in ascetic rags looked to her. But that was the only similarity. He held a stoic gaze, though his eyes sent pleading words out into the night. In turn, she sneered and hissed almost constantly, and darted her eyes around the dimming woods until she finally spat venom in his ear. "Is he of our House?"


    It wasn''t the drow male to respond, but Abbot Eiriol. "I am uncertain, Matron Etyl. But his likeness to Her cannot be mistaken."


    "I am certain he is." The woman, Etyl, nodded regally as she mused. "Why would he not be? It would only make sense for the Champion to be born from the two eldest Houses to walk these realms, would it not?"


    The two others bowed low. "I can only agree."


    I couldn''t say for certain that I could. But I was certain of my preference not to deal with games of intrigue and deception. Thankfully, however, it seemed I would only have to do so on one front, for the second potential front of intrigue was missing from the Kingdoms of Ligin. In the place of the supposed King of Storms was an interesting face. A young man who bore the same colors as dear Titus. Now, in Titus'' absence, he was the Bodhi Tree''s paladin instructor; and I could feel his anger, his frustration at being in the position every time he thrust his hands towards the southern sky.


    "They tell you no, so you quit and do it anyway?" the man threw his arms up in defeat and turned away, only to face about a moment later, wagging his finger towards the dense clouds impossibly far away. "Do you truly believe what you say? Or does peace leave you restless that much?"


    "After next year," said the Storm, storming deeper into Nonus. But the look on the man''s face made it seem as if he perceived it as a question. "The target will be unprotected then. If you will not join me then-"


    "I will not be a part of your unjust quest! Or your death wish!" The man seethed. But the storm continued storming as if he hadn''t even been interrupted.


    "-I think it best we not see each other again."


    "Wow." I laughed after returning to my senses. "First Caelarin* and now Titus. Looks like I''m making a name for myself."


    ***


    The Owl.


    ***


    Names. Fame. Power of any kind.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Like mortals, these abstract things were living entities. Birthed into existence from bodily flesh, they grow from triumph and failure alike. Eventually, they too die, becoming legends and tales in the minds of mortals until they are but untitled tomes stored in the forgotten annals of fate. Immortalized until the entropic forces of old weather even those timeless things to dust.


    Such is the fate of all things.


    Archie''s Witch Hut was no different.


    Under the Owl''s gaze, however, the hands of entropy would be seen as great talons that left an inexplicable cloud of despair in its wake. And, with mortals being mortals; with the elves of Rhar, forever at odds with the fighting kingdoms of Kasia, the finger would be pointed at someone. And so, with glee, the Owl sat in its nest with Pora Bora, watching the groups of rangers limp into the complex with slings and bandages and leave naught hours later with spry steps and packs filled with potions.


    Special potions, the Owl made sure to make for the rangers of Rhar and the rangers only. For it was they who refused a Witches hand to treat them of their wounds, instead preferring potions and salves brewed from the bounties of nature.


    For 14 days, they''ve been coming and going in increasingly larger groups. So eager, were they to spill goblin and orcish blood for what seemed like no other reason than existing in their forest. Or, specifically, for another orc or goblin killing someone they cared about and doing so in their forest. So willing they would be to commit genocide on the entire species for the simple crime of thriving in their niche.


    Orcs were not the natural druids as Olga so wrongly claimed in her classroom. Orcs were the natural Berserkers. Thriving in battle and war to the point of it being a necessity, they were natural warmongers. Fighters. Cleansers of the Culture that would push civilization towards a spread that saw no end. The Owl did not believe that made them a scourge of the Mortal Plane. Rather, it was the Owl''s theory that they existed to prevent such culture-born genocides from being enacted by the so-called ''good'' species.


    The Owl saw it firsthand across the Tri-Point. Everywhere, groups of orcs, humans, goblins, dwarves, and elves could be seen marching. Turning to charge each other the moment a group who wore different colors was caught in their line of sight. Sentencing them to fight to their dying breaths.


    All, in the end, for the Owl to mark them for rescue.


    All, in the end, for them to be offered a deal and taken below.


    All, in the end, for Archie to hurry the fuck up with my data.


    ¡­


    In the end, it took Archie two days to deliver the data to the still-unnamed benefactor.


    Of course, that benefactor was the Owl. But he still had a deadline to keep, for the potions were starting to kick in and fingers were beginning to point. And yet, more and more rangers limped in and skipped out holding loudly clinking bags. More creatures of all types pleaded and begged for longer lives. And, best of all, more greedy witches came from across the lands for work or, in many cases, pretended to work.


    In the tendays here, the nearly thousand witches Archie arrived with have doubled. When counting those being experimented on below, the number blew up to nearly ten thousand. Still an insignificant fraction of the greater population. But much more than the Owl needed all the same.


    It was getting crowded. But the only new construction being done was underground. Deep underground, far below the experimentation wing. So far even the dwarves couldn''t sense the tremors. So far, and yet shallow enough to soon show Caelarin that his gifts had been received. That, however, was for another time. On this day, Archie officially sent his data through. And though the Owl was the benefactor, the Owl had not been spending his time analyzing data.


    The Owl, or what had been the Owl, had been stuck on industry duties last year and it would be some time before they were resumed. That was Amun''s job now, and the ArcaTech worked flawlessly in turning the data around to make new tech for Archie to test. With the research on Class-Specific Implants and Augmentations complete, however, there was no need to send another shipment to Archie, giving the Owl some downtime to read through the findings while the cover-up spread across the lands.


    It was quite interesting, to say the least.


    In terms of classes, only artificers and bards could receive implants or augmentations from any of the various types of technology. Minus, of course, NecroTech. The same was true for most of the martial classes. The exception was monks, who were limited to using Divine Tech and Flesh Tech to augment their bodies. That said, no paladins were tested based on the account of them being uncommon in this region. And by the Owl''s orders, no warlocks or clerics were experimented on either.


    As expected, rangers and druids couldn''t have any type of implant other than those made from ArborTech. But rather unexpectedly, was that rogues, wizards, and witches could use all types of implants besides NecroTech like artificers and bards, but so too could they use certain prosthetics as spellcasting aids in the right situation. And if the theory held, the same was true for sorcerers.


    It was fascinating. But what was more fascinating was how the different species reacted to various tech.


    Goblinoids, for instance, could have no implants or augmentations to the flesh. Due to some uniqueness of their physiology, they always had a severe reaction to artificial organs and the like. The effect was severe necrosis- or flesh rot. The only thing that wouldn''t rot their flesh was, of course, Divine Tech. But even then it was described as ''unstable.'' What was stable, however, was any implant that replaced, augmented, or interacted with the skeletal structure of goblinoids alone.


    Conversely, orcs could only accept implants that were associated with the flesh. Although, they weren''t as remotely as prone to harsh rejections as the goblinoids, having a hearty genetic makeup. Their augments and implants of wood and stone could touch bone, but not replace it outright. Or, as Amun described it. ''Arbor implants readily connect to the skeletal structure through a process similar to cold welding. Yet, fusion or outright replacement of bone cells seems impossible without the divine touch.''


    It only got more interesting, for the few Goliaths were found to readily accept augments and implants made from metal or stone and in some cases, wood. No surprise there, but they also had a near-immunity to electricity, being stone-like beings. That, and their ability to absorb heat gave them an affinity with immensely powerful cybernetics, be they natural or magical.


    Felipians, interestingly but also boorishly, were open to all implants or augments from any technology other than NecroTech, much like humans, dwarves, and halflings. To no surprise, elves could only use MagiTech or Divine Tech. But Striflings, though they could use FleshTech and MagiTech, nearly needed a new subset of technology altogether. For, while they were carbon-based beings, their blood was described to be ''sulfuric in nature, with significant traces of electrum.''


    It was all so fascinating. It was also wonderful. For it allowed Amun to enhance his Legions beyond comparison.


    It allowed the Owl to corrupt mortals beyond belief.

 269 - Burns

    Captain Bella ''Seadog'' Hampton.


    22nd of Ianua, 1492.


    Off the coastal borders of Knighilia and Shujen.


    ***


    "Captain Burns."


    There was a certain pitch of joy to my voice as I said the words. A miracle in itself, for every other time the words had been uttered from my lips it was fueled by malice or arrogance or both. Now, things have changed. And so, my mind was somewhere far in the future while my body remained in the present, standing on a skiff while looking over the icy waters for leagues until they gave way to the simmering seas.


    "A half-dwarven menace known as the Smoldering Pirate. His abilities are¡­ volatile." I shrugged to no one in particular. I don''t have much use for ''em. But that ship runs tighter than most in these waters."


    It was still strange, hearing the Commander''s voice echoing through my soul. But it was nifty all the same. {"With a name like that, they should be near the Steam Line. Or in it."} Commander Hogaz chuckled, and I in return, for the irony wasn''t lost on me. {"What''s your call?"}


    "Burns is smart," I said a moment later. "Knows his way around a ship and has the trust of his crew. Not to mention, he shares our ideals. I''d like to recruit."


    {"Very well."} He said after a pause. {"This operation is yours, Captain."}


    ***


    Jackie Storm.


    Eldest Cabin Boy of the Teakettle.


    ***


    "Jack-Jackie! Whatcha think?"


    I responded more on instinct than anything else, focusing as much mana into my eyes as I could muster to see through the steam. "I''m lookin'' Cap, I''m- no fuckin'' shit!" I nearly leaned over the rails, trying to get a closer look at what I thought I saw. And, sure as shit, blonde hair, bright blue eyes. "It''s the Seadog! And she''s on a skiff! Let''s burn ''er, an burn ''er good, Cap!"


    "Now, now, Jack." Captain Burns growled, flicking his wrist to send his bird out. And in that small moment, I turned to the hundreds scattered on the deck below, eager and growling and simmering with hunger.


    "Well, I''ll be fucked sideways! It''s Captain Seadog in the flesh! And in a mighty fine skiff at that!" The Captain''s booming voice silenced the seas themselves, giving a long pause filled with his trademark rolling chortle while he waved a silent order to the lot of us.


    "Heard about your streak o'' luck!" he called, masking the sounds of loading charges and rolling cannons. "Ran from the Tall Shores with your tails ''tween your legs, y''all did! Then someone came an'' finished ya off dead, I heard!"


    It wasn''t but a second later when Seadog''s voice came rolling across the waters like a harpy''s song. Crisp and clear as the morning sun.


    Too bad it was sour on the inside.


    "Do I look dead to you, Captain Burns?" She almost laughed.


    Cap did. "Not yet!" He growled something dangerously. "But you coming to these waters means one of only a few things, Seadog! Now, you ain''t got no merit with which to parlay. And you ain''t got no cannons on that there skiff either. So you either come to bend the knee, to get bent over, or to be sunk."


    Again, the retort came not a second later. "I''m afraid it''s neither! We''ve come to parlay!"


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    "Bahaha!" Cap and the whole of the Teakettle roared. "Ain''t no we concerning you, Seadog! Or, shall I say that in past tense?


    "FIRE!"


    The blue sky lit up so bright it turned dark from the salvos of a dozen cannons arcing smoldering slag into the skies towards the Seadog, egged on by our ravenous cheers. However, a plume of water shot up too early, and the little sliver of white metal skated and skirted around our quarrels. All while she shouted hauntingly.


    "Times are changing, Burns! You either change like us or you get left behind! I''m offering you that chance! A ticket to ride the coming wave!"


    "Hold yer fire!" Cap shouted, silencing our frenzy as much as the cannons to hear Cap''s rolling growl. "I''m wantin'' to hear what she''s to say. But don''t let ''er outta yer sight. She''s a crafty one, she is."


    True to his word, Cap never let his eyes wander from that fast little boat. But his bird was looking at the silver eye in the sky. The one with a color not unlike that little boat, I realized.


    "Alright, Seadog! You got my attention!"


    I then took Cap''s advice and looked at her closely. That unyielding confident smile had never worn off, it seemed. She had not a shred of fear, despite the cannons still trained on her.


    "I''m assuming this we o'' yours has somethin'' to do with that?" Cap pointed to the flying boulders in the far distance. "I''m assumin'' it''s got something to do with this talk of sea trade dying down ''cause of some doer well artificer in Bakewia, Pascal?"


    "Yes and no!" She shouted, grinning wider than possible as a dark shadow grew beneath her little boat.


    There were murmurs but we said nothing. Not to Seadog and not to Cap. But when she surely couldn''t ignore the surging seas beneath her, we fell into an all-out manic laughter. She was to meet her doom and she didn''t even seem to care.


    Or so we thought.


    Her ship rose and rose until the silver-white fin of some colossal beast breached the surface a ways behind Bella''s skiff and rose meters higher. Higher than our ship and twice that more before the rounded body of a whale rose above the water, glistening in a thousand colors I couldn''t begin to name.


    It took what seemed like everyone a moment to realize the fin was not a fin, but a huge fuckin'' mast without sails. A moment later, the head of the metal beast appeared, boasting a massive barnacle on its head that pointed three massive cannons our way.


    "That''s a big fuckin'' ship." I heard someone murmur behind me.


    "How in the Seventeen Hells did they make that?"


    "A nice ship. Ripe for the takin'', that is."


    "Not with those big ass guns it ain''t."


    That forced a laugh out of me. A dry one. Indeed the guns seemed large enough for a dwarf to build a house inside with room to spare. That, and the ship itself was about twice as long as ours and immensely taller. Tall enough to make the cannons point down just to put us in their sights. And on top of them, posed proudly in her beached skiff, stood Captain Bella ''Seadog'' Hampton.


    "Don''t let ''er fool ya," Cap growled low. "Ain''t no way they''d fire them guns with her so close."


    As if the ship itself heard him, the middle barrel began vibrating ominously as a silver light within rose in strength.


    Cap nearly screamed. "I accept the parley!"


    Within the span of only a few minutes, several of our crew and several of theirs met on a block of floating ice out in the middle of the sea. Me included. Among them were several familiar faces, all dressed and armed as well as their ship. Including the one unfamiliar face.


    "So y''all weren''t dead after all," Cap said after a few silent nods, allowing the burning embers of his eyes to fall over the eight of them and remain on the silver-tusked half-orc. "And who might ye be, Greenie?"


    "Commander Hogaz of the Noctis Grand Fleet," he said, uncaring of the potential insult he''d just been given. But, having tact, Cap corrected his words in his own way.


    "A greenhorn like you, commandin'' a fleet of these ones?" Cap threw his arm around Captains Seadog, Vexx, and even Stronghull, all nodding subtly. "Color me impressed! But that don''t pardon you from sailin'' and prancin'' about in my waters, talkin'' of change and all this bullshit. Not without offerin'' up a good explanation. So, pray tell, Commander, what you wanna parley for?"


    "I have business around the shores." He said with a subtle pat to his fine mail. "I only hope that you''ll pay me no mind. Captain Seadog, on the other hand, hopes that you''ll join us." He motioned to her with a sense of finality, and in that moment I saw a wince strike Cap''s eye.


    "There''s nothing at the shores but warmongering barbarians, drow monks, an'' ancient ruins. Already pillaged, two outta three of ''em. An'' not by us."


    "That''s why I intend to go."


    "I doubt you''re to roam around town, so what''s it you hope to find in some old ruins, Commander?"


    "Vestiges of the past and a gift for the future."


    The energy seemed to drain from Cap''s face with those words, leaving enough for a nod that made him turn away, muttering. "Ah. One of those types.


    "So be it." He grunted a moment later, waving again to place a mass of black feathers and pink flesh atop my shoulder. "But you''ll you''re to drop anchor, time now. And you''re to be holdin'' one of mine in exchange for one of yers until you''re leavin''. Call it an act of faith."


    "Very well." The half-orc nodded without delay.


    Then Seadog stepped over to Cap''s side. "I volunteer to stay."


    "Jack-Jackie! You''re up."

 270 - Bossa Nova

    "Fucking Hells!"


    I cursed myself silently for breaking character. But I couldn''t not give myself some reprieve. I just saw the largest fucking anchor imaginable drop down on a phantom chain and neither Captain Vexx nor this Commander Hogaz seemed to care about it. Or my awe.


    Singe, on the other hand.


    "Ow!" I turned an angry eye to the smelly creature clutching my shoulder in a death grip. Why the fuck anyone would have a vulture as a familiar, I could only guess. But it was a smelly thing that was a dick to anyone but Cap, threatening to pull me overboard with powerful flaps of its wings.


    "Alright, let''s go." Captain Vexx silenced the beast, pulling my attention to a skiff like the one Seadog used, on a fast approach.


    Suddenly eager to get a firsthand look, I bolstered my eyes with mana. But alas, the ship was pulled close and Singe nearly dragged me onboard. More curses were prepared and quickly cut short by the softest seat in existence condensed below my ass. I nearly moaned in ecstasy instead but composed myself with a passable grunt of frustration. Then, in a burst of power, we were off.


    "Listen." Captain Vexx leaned close to me. It had only been seconds since we took off. But already, the two ships were in the far distance behind us while up ahead, the coast raced towards us. "Securing the area is the priority. After that, loot and explore or do as you please until the Commander finishes his business. You claim what you kill and you keep what you find. That''s our way."


    "Understood." I nodded quickly but looked around awkwardly. "It''s just us?"


    Captain Vexx let out a subtle laugh. "Not quite. More importantly," she paused, sizing me up. "I hope you have magic that can generate heat. It''s cold where we''re going."


    "I''ll be fine," I assured her with a confident sneer.


    But she just giggled. "We''ll see."


    Indeed, I saw. I saw us skate across the water like a bird through the air, bringing us around Shujen Peninsula to charge through Helston''s Brook, run upstream, and ram our skiff onto shore like madmen. I saw Commander Hogaz wave towards the waters, bringing me to watch heads breach the surface and rise into bodies both living and dead, striding and running forward into the forest to cover our flanks while we ambled through the snow.


    "Y- you command the dead?" I shuddered, staring at the half-orcs back. But Captain Vexx was the one to answer.


    "Our benefactor does. Among other things." She huffed. "Anyway, you need help keeping up?"


    "I know how to fortify as good as any pirate." I huffed, to which she shrugged in agreement and told me to try not to be seen. Then they took off flying.


    I struggled to keep up and silence wasn''t my forte, leaving me no choice but to fling fire at anything that crawled my way. Goblins. Orcs. What seemed like a hundred feral creatures crawled from the snowy forest to meet an end or at least be blasted away before I caught pace with those two and nearly stopped in my tracks.


    Before me was a dead forest, packed not in snow, but in ice. Trees and plants were encased in frost from root to canopy. Stones glimmered under thin sheets of blue. As I stepped deeper inside the strange landscape, ruins of ice began to appear before things suddenly got¡­ neater. The grasses and trees and dirt disappeared to make way for walkways and stairs of glistening ice, bordered by stone rails and braziers illuminated with purplish blue fire- a cold, deathly fire, I sensed, leading up to a circular arrangement of towering pillars supporting a domed roof.


    "What is this?" I muttered, looking around to reel back in horror upon seeing many undead creatures standing at their sides, and yet more waddling out of the woods.


    "Come." Captain Vexx gestured for me to follow her inside the ice mausoleum, and with hesitance, I followed.


    The building couldn''t have been more than thirty meters across, of that I was sure. But when I stepped inside it was like stepping into an entirely new realm. Grasses, flowers, vines, and trees made of frost or ice spread across almost every surface of the inside. In a few places were podiums, stands, mounts, or plaques that rested frosted corpses resting in weird poses. And at their center was a figure that positively radiated death. The master of this dungeon.


    "Zaraxus." Hogaz approached the thing with confidence to offer a generous bow.


    I took a step back in horror as the thing slowly opened its eyes, showing bright orbs that flickered between bright blue and sea green as they quickly turned to me and back to, "Commander Hogaz."


    The low, raspy drone sent a shiver down my spine that completely bypassed my scorch magic. Suddenly, I was frozen still, watching the creature- Zaraxus, gesture to a silver box sitting atop a podium beside him. With a nod, Commander Hogaz retrieved and opened the box, finding a silver bracelet within that he promptly pulled over his wrist; only for it to disappear in a flash of silver.


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    Turning his wrist over, Hogaz studied the new ink around his wrist before nodding to the frost-dead creature. "Until next time, Zaraxus."


    With a similar nod, the thing closed its eyes to resume its slumber before Hogaz turned and left, waving me down as he passed. "Let''s go."


    "What the fuck was that?" I whispered once outside, but Hogaz returned a dumb look to me and muttered, "Zaraxus."


    Singe squawked, but I couldn''t begin to ask, as I saw a line of undead and creatures of shadow approaching to add to the pile of singed corpses beside me.


    "You claim what you kill." Captain Vexx gave my shoulder a rough pat as she passed.


    After a moment of maniacal laughter to gather my wits, I went to looting and didn''t find much interesting. A bunch of shoddy weapons and food scraps Singe happily took, but nothing in the way of gold or trinkets. And so, I turned back to the other two and fell backward immediately.


    "Is¡­ that a¡­ a ship?" I pointed needlessly to a wedged shaped¡­ ship, sitting atop the ice walkway on metal feet. It had the same pearly color and gentle curves as that massive ship and the skiff we came on, so I knew. But¡­ "Why is it on land?"


    "Come aboard and find out!" Captain Vexx called to me in an almost irresistible way. Elven women would be the death of me one day, I knew. But not this day. This day was the start of something incredible, I realized upon boarding that ship. As comfortable as the skiff, it was, but ten times as luxurious.


    Alas, we sat on the stern with the creatures of shadow and went inside with purpose. Meanwhile, the other two kicked up their feet, tending to food and drinks that appeared from seemingly nowhere.


    "Hungry?" Commander Hogaz asked before biting into a piece of steak, but seeing the undead so close by, I passed and instead asked Captain Vexx if she could share a smoke.


    She happily agreed, even lighting it for me before she leaned back to intently watch the look of utter bliss cross my face- and the subsequent look of surprise once the ship surged beneath me.


    I shot up at once, thinking us under attack, only to see the snow-capped canopy of a forest disappear below the railing. "We''re-" I shot over the rails and laughed maniacally once I saw trees zipping below us at a furious pace. "The ship is flying! What the fuck?"


    I must''ve looked like a child from their point of view. But I didn''t give a shit. It was the most amazing thing I''d ever seen and it indeed made me feel like a kid again. But when the snowy banks gave way to open waters, I was suddenly reminded of who I was, Jack-Jackie of the Smoldering Pirates. Pirates who belonged at sea. And so, my amiable smile faded to a stoic look of contemplation in mere seconds.


    They had at least one ship that could fly. Another that could glide beneath the waves and surface at a moment''s notice like a whale. A whale with big ass guns that shot silver light. As such, this crew could not be defeated at sea or on land. Not by us or possibly anyone around the Peninsula, I was certain. The difference in power was just that great. That left us with only a few choices. We could form some form of partnership, agreement, or alliance. Or at the very least, get on their good side. But, I couldn''t see Cap joining anyone, even them. More than anything, I hoped his refusal didn''t place us on their bad side. But even that wasn''t what I feared.


    I feared giving my report to the Cap. Cause there was no way to give it without buttering them up something good. Not that I even had to, not with this damned bird.


    The sobering thoughts or the hateful presence of Singe did little to bring the child inside me down, though. Especially once we returned, not to our ship, but to the stern of that massive vessel to have our boat taken by a metal claw and secured within the hold. Then, the child inside me became lost in amazement as we walked through an outright fucking palace on the water. Plush carpets and marbled walls lined with gold and exuberant art were found in every corridor and indeed, every room. Private rooms for the crew! I couldn''t believe it. Nor could I believe the wondrous aromas and the pleasant music drifting through the place.


    Through and up and around the floating palace we went until we came to a dining hall fit for a king''s court, in which sat many of our crew. And Captain Burns.


    "Jack-Jackie!" He threw his arms out upon seeing me, recalling his damned bird. "I saw ya come in on that fine ship! And, Commander Hogaz." He hopped to his feet with a sweeping bow. "Seadog ''ere told me all about their plans to build fleets an'' conquer the World Seas. All of ''em. Followin'' that, they said their on a recruiting spree. Aimin'' to hire all the pirates in the Peninsula. They claim we''ll even get a ship like this ''ere as long as train and become... professionals.


    "What say you, Jack-Jackie?"


    ''Professionals.'' I huffed. While it made little sense then, it made perfect sense now. Buttering me up. Showing off a lavish lifestyle- the so-called rewards they gained from doing what all mortals knew not to do. "I say, I saw a ship emerge from the sea, ready to blow us outta the water." I sighed, looking Cap deep in his eyes. "I say I saw two people cross the land at speeds I struggled to keep up with, felling beast like it were nothing all the while. I say I saw¡­" I sighed, letting out a shudder. "I saw death at their beck and call and monsters talk to ''em as friends. I say, I came back here on a ship that started on land, flew through the fucking air, and splashed down in the water to dock with this ship. Halls of gold and smokes that made me feel like I was in heaven. I say, it wrote a script that said if we join them, we''d be unstoppable for damn sure. That if we say no, we''ll regret it and wonder what could''ve been for the rest of our days.


    "But..." I sighed again. "That''s the thing. They''re damn fine rewards Cap, don''t get me wrong, but it''s the icing on a cake o'' shite that''ll make us vomit our principles. What''s a professional pirate? A privateer who lies to himself. So we''re being asked to be privateers who joined up with our enemies to sail the World Seas, competing with the likes of dragon turtles and dragons, sea elves, the Mer-Mob, tritons, storm giants, Kraken, and the leviathans of the deep, and it comes at a cost? The greatest cost of all.


    "That ain''t a cost the crew will be willing to pay. And you ain''t the type to bend the knee, sell us out, or sell your soul."


    "Right..." Captain Burn''s grin grew wider than I''d ever seen as he spread his arms to Captain Vexx and this silver-toothed half-orc. "Guess that leaves us at an impasse."

 271 - Tengu Tamer

    Jaimess A. Corey.


    23rd of Ianua, 1492.


    Great Melbenzar Forest, NW. Rhar. The Rocks, Thaphos Village.


    12:03 PM.


    ***


    Corym. The days that passed after we greeted him were strange. He seemed¡­ agitated. On edge. Worried. Then, after five days, he grew angry. As did we. But unlike us, Corym then grew saddened. Then determined. Signs I''d been taught to look out for. Signs of grief. Signs that marked him as guilty of sending hunters after Amun. My Lord. My Emperor. My Guild Master. Their failure saw him take his ire out on us. Passively, of course. But he paid close attention to us, demanding and insisting and entreating us to heed his instruction regarding the life of a ranger, despite us knowing everything we''d need to know to move further down our paths. So, we took heed to his words; just not the ones he expected, and not in the ways he desired.


    While he spoke of tracking, we looked and learned of the strangely living, oddly industrial forest hidden beyond the veil of the grove. While he spoke of the druidic arts used in our class, we studied the ways of the wood elves watching us with mixed expressions from their tree houses and groves, observing how they moved, how they fed, who they trained, organized, and governed themselves. But when he spoke of favored enemies, he grew angry.


    There were eight rangers in this conclave, as it was called. Only two of them were not of the Legions. Zohnos Lagunath, the Triton who still seemed to be dour from his loss against Amun, judging by the way he glared at our insignia; and Zaos Torhorn, the wood elf who rarely said anything with his mouth and all but screamed hatred with his eyes. The two of them had immediate answers to Corym''s demand to choose a type of creature to focus our skills on. Undead and Fae respectively. Their ''natural'' enemies, they said. But Corym''s ire seemed to know no bounds when we told him of our enemies. Or rather, our lack thereof. Then, he seemed to become offended when we told him we only had creatures we like to study outside of our class.


    They were the same type of creatures the wood elves around us chose. Elementals. Undead. Celestials. Monsters. Beasts of all types, including the divine. I thought it strange that Corym, and by extension, the rest of the wood elves grew more offended when we told them we wished for all creatures to exist as nature intended, as we believed rangers should. They even went as far as to call it sacrilege, assuming we were attempting to absolve ourselves of the duty to protect the civilized lands from the foul beasts and abominations that threatened them. Even when we corrected them, stating we would do that just as we would indiscriminately fight those who wrongly poached or hunted creatures for simply existing, they looked at us with disgust. Worse, they began showing preferential treatment to Zaos and Zohnos. Coddling them, as we saw it- making them weak.


    Of course, we paid them little mind. We practiced our skills and martial prowess of our own volition, guided by the NoxNet rather than the pretentious elves who claimed to be rangers, despite rarely leaving their sacred forest. We showed them, silently and stoically, our skills with blade and bow and spell. Well, they did, for I decided to play by the rules of the Tengu, fighting unarmed in a winged suit of paper- yet another difference that caused an outpour of hatred from the elves. Yet another thing that left me... amused.


    By the time our enchantments came, their brimming hatred turned to seething rage. Filthy. Disrespectful. Unnatural. Uncultured. Offensive. Disgraceful. Every word in their Common vernacular was used in response to our walking up vertical surfaces, to our vehicles and machines, to the talking skulls hanging from our packs or hips, to our growing habit of taking the strength or lifespan of the creatures we felled. Perhaps they were justified in that, however, the end of the month marked the time for us to explore and accomplish whatever tasks we had for our subclasses. Yet Corym and his Kingdom of elves demanded we complete our tasks by picking a favored enemy before we departed, despite us stepping far past such things already.


    We weren''t angry, frustrated, or even impatient. By then, we were bored with the tight canopy of the Great Melbenzar Forest and were all too eager to leave. So, we did as adults did.


    We compromised.


    "Rangers must choose a favored foe." I nodded to him, more playfully than I otherwise would have. I was excited to find my friends, after all. "Any type of creature, such as an elemental. That''s what you told us." I playfully wagged my finger, singing joyously, ending in a grim note. "I bet you didn''t know we could put the sentient species of the realms on that list."


    Curious Twig, innately as playful as I had become, pounced from tree to tree, attempting to speak to as many elves as she could. "Two species, we can!"


    "So," Duke began with puffed feathers; among all of us, the noble Sapiavi was sicked by the elves'' ''unjust'' behavior the most, "we have made a compromise."


    "Our favored species," Rebecca Plassein sneered with indigence. "Our most favored enemy, as you put it, will be you."


    "Elves." Zeke Smeal corrected with a beaming grin. "Elves and humanoids will be our favored enemies."


    Corym''s vibrant eyes burned like the sun as they peered through ours to witness the cold conviction within our souls."You wouldn''t." He growled.


    "We did! Hehe!" I laughed. "We chose humanoids and elves of all kinds as our favored enemies. The chances of us fighting those like you are at least an order of magnitude higher, after all. And..." The amusement suddenly fell from my face- all of our faces. "Let us not forget the hunters you sent after Amun. Five of them, if I remember correctly. Although one of them- the fighter- might have been a mercenary, right?" I beamed, nodding at Corym. At least until he said nothing, then the amiability drained from my face as I looked the ancient elf in the eyes. "Consider this your first and last warning, King Corym Lichenwind. Come strike two, The Legions will be playing with Rhar."


    Those words, coupled with a final bow, were the last we hoped to see of Corym and their ''sacred'' forest. We relished in our new freedom. Not even using vehicles to travel north towards the Rharian mountains to make camp, laugh, play, and rest before we rested to rise and go our separate ways.


    I watched them all spread to the winds, feeling the same pride I was sure Amun felt while Toril, Jonet, and I were young. They weren''t even my subordinates, but I was proud of their rapid progress all the same. Naturally, more was said for my subordinates, close by. Hidden in a cave I carved after dropping down to the Plane, they''d been drinking mana sensitivity potions to obtain the same high I experienced last year, attempting to connect with divine creatures on their own.


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    I didn''t go to them, at first. I watched Duke take to the skies with his wing of men and women and other creatures adapted to the skies in awe. I watched Curious Twig fly off into the dawn with Tao, the celestial panther, bounding from boulder to boulder with the utmost glee. I saw Becca, fighting creatures with swords and other weapons made from her plasma, and Smeal, searching for new places for the homeless and downtrodden to settle into the Legions. Only when they were gone did I move, using paper wings and my memories to search the mountains for my old friends.


    I knew not how long I looked, for the journey was a sort of play in and of itself. Eventually, though, I returned to that otherworldly platform atop that isolated summit and looked upon the empty expanse around me, seeing no movement other than the creaking trees or the drifting mist; feeling nothing more than cold air blowing over my clothes. And so, I crossed my legs to sit atop those mosaic tiles. To meditate on that world throne as a monk would, clearing my mind to focus on the energies within and beyond until I attached to that feeling I felt just over half a year ago.


    Perhaps it was due to our sabbatical in Eotrom, or even my raised world within and without, but I felt it after what felt to be only seconds. Of course, the contrary was true, but I felt it all the same. The pushes and the pulls. The ebbing and flowing of mana, glowing in the grasses and trees like a light enchantment amidst the thick clouds shielding the sun overhead. Through that, I felt life itself. Insects and mycelium deep in the soil, breaking down detritus to give life to the green expanse around me. In which roamed rodents, reptiles, birds, and mammals amongst more fantastical creatures hidden beneath the veil.


    Just like last time, something else appeared from beyond that veil shortly thereafter. Another light, but a light akin to hot iron. Warm and bright and gentle. Bubbling with joyful energy. But, not from the three bobbing forms I was familiar with. It was a heat I could not describe. It came from¡­ below. From the ancient tiles beneath me, it readily flowed into my spirit.


    As that heat rose within me, I suddenly recalled that fateful day in a way that couldn''t be described. It wasn''t a dream, nor was it a memory. It was like I was¡­ there, reliving a variation of the experience. Like, as Amun called it, Deja Vu. I felt high on mana sensitivity potions. Yet its effect had been amplified due to this immensely gentle heat. I saw the tengu before me, eager to play. But they were different from the ones I remembered. Humanoid. As tall as me but with fantastic wings of crimson, blue, tan, and gold. Still, though, they were the same. Eager to play. And so play, we did. Gone were the gentle taps that pushed me back a step, however. Their blows sent me barreling into mountainsides and tumbling through forests; and there was pain, of course, but no malice. Only joy. Only¡­ play. And so, I tagged them back. I laughed and punched and kicked my way across the Ligin and Rharian mountains until the game came to an end. A... stalemate.


    The records compiled from the Bodhi Tree, spectators, and later, my memories, showed me in the center, a tengu to either side with the third below. With a split kick, the flanking tengu had their flames extinguished. But not the momentum of their attacks. Feathered legs arced inward to meet my head at the center, nearly extinguishing my flame. But just before my light dimmed, just before I fell, just before I lashed down, I was lashed back, and all went dark. Thus we tumbled. Off and down the mountain we fell. By the time I was found, I was dangling from my fist with the tengu huddled around me, healing me and then disappearing without a trace. Even Felicity Licht couldn''t sense their departure.


    I, however, experienced a different story.


    I remembered three embers systematically fading, returning, and multiplying. One left, leaving two, but then returned to double and make four. Another then left, leaving three, only to return with another to make five. And again with the third to make six.


    By this heat, however, I witnessed myself dangling over a cliff by my fist as I was when I was found. Three Tengu, appearing as fuzzy grapefruits with wings, latched onto my clothes, skin, and hair desperately, even while unconscious. Until¡­ one woke up and flew away.


    When it returned, it wrapped a straw and feathered cowl over my back and nestled into the crevasse of my shoulder. Then, the second one flew away.


    When it returned, it strapped a large fan to my hips and nestled into the crevasse of my other shoulder. Then the last one flew away.


    When it returned, it looped a sash around my dangling frame thrice, tying a gourd to my waist before it flew up to nestle atop my head.


    Then came the moment I assuredly felt. A burst of brilliant heat spread across the entirety of the mountain range. I felt its potency more than I ever had before. And yet, I still had not a name for the abundant and blissful heat that now swirled within me. I knew it was no divine energy, nor was it celestial magic. Thus I pondered and hypothesized until I felt something, heard a grunt, and proverbially opened my eyes to see the strange sky above me. Tan with bright clouds of sky blue, glowing under a red sun. Moreover, I opened my eyes to see a colossal, bearded, long-nosed humanoid covered in bright red furry feathers and a robe of equal color, squatting on the balls of his feet in a distant dale of mosaic tiles, making him appear as a red mountain with three smaller hills surrounding him.


    "We thought your play exceptional, human. But to think you could make your way here. Admirable, it is."


    ''Here.'' I thought, looking- feeling around this place that was not unlike the Faewoods were said to be, but also strangely different. The grasses were lush and golden, swaying majestically in a wind that seemed to flow in one direction always. The streams were crystal clear and yet oily, showing strangely colored rocks at their shores housing beautifully scaled fish, and many beings flocked within, other than tengu. Beings that ranged in all shapes and sizes. Incorporeal some. Large and massive, others. Almost like¡­ "The Spiritual Realm."


    "And wise beyond measure." The great Tengu nodded. "Tell me, human. Why do you seek us earnestly so?"


    "So that... I can learn from you, and you from me. So we could... play again. And together we''ll grow."


    "''Tis precisely why we seek companionship with mortals. Though our play often breaks them, thus they believe us to be malevolent." The Tengu chuckled, though his mouth didn''t move, not even as a great red finger thrust in my direction in the blink of an eye, blowing a severe gust over my suddenly minuscule body. "You are different! Your wisdom has impressed the tengu of Mount Sojobo. We accept and ask of you, Human Jaimess, to take our young Daitengu as companions on your travels. Learn from them, and they from you. Drink the waters of this mountain. Play. Grow. Build temples and spread the Art of Tengu across the realms."


    "It would be my honor." I bowed lowly, filled with as much humility as this heat- this spiritual energy flowing within me. And when I stood, I found myself standing atop a branch in the Bodhi Peninsula once more, feeling the distant bite of the wind on my body being protected by a feathered cowl dissimilar to the one issued by the Legions.


    I thought to the other items and before I could think further, the gourd appeared in my hand, in mid-swig. A new strength surged within me before I even realized the gourd was back in its place, my lips slick from its oily contents.


    With a simple push- a push meant to step further down this branch, a great shattering sounded beneath me. I soon found myself staring at my new companions in free fall. Three tengu in their familiar forms, the teardrops with long noses. One had a face of intrigue, bumping into me with its nose as it tried to get a closer look at my features. The next simply stared at me with a face of cold indifference, yet somehow retained its trademark scowl. The last had an aggressively anxious face that looked away whenever I gazed upon it, melting my heart a little.


    A noble artist, a warrior poet, and a spiritual artisan, they were. Masters of ancient arts they revered above all others.


    Arts that I would have to master as well.


    Me and my subordinates.


    "We''re going to teach our friends how to play." I looked up to see a silvery glow take shape over a nearby summit, then turned back to my friends with an apologetic smile. "But first, we have to find some new playgrounds."

 272 - Acolytes

    Nyella Lichenstone.


    23rd of Ianua.


    Rhar Mountain Range, Central.


    11:52 PM.


    ***


    We''ve been riding for days without stopping. Carried by these magnificent steeds of leather and steel, we moved continually forward, burning under the sun each day so that we could bathe in Mani''s light each night. Each passed meter gave us a wider picture of this grand realm we found ourselves in. Each step brought us a new perspective. Humbled us more. But no matter how far we traveled, no matter how high we ascended, we seemed to never get closer to the woven world above.


    From violent beasts to civilized folk who convinced themselves to be doing good in attacking us to the very air thinning with each step, we faced many trials on our climb to the summit. But so too have we seen many blessings. So too have we seen many miracles, in our being accompanied by wolves and carnivorous deer in our travels. In our being guided toward our destination by dozens of silvery moths. Now, after nearly a month, we faced our last hurdle. A thin pass between towering rocks. The perfect ambush spot, we all were sure, but also certain no such troubles were to find us here.


    No, the troubles came at the end of the pass, where a sheer climb to the summit would be endured before we took a final leap of faith.


    As it had been the way through, Lady Zakira went first. The roughly six hundred Eomen went next. I came last.


    One by one, I watched the devoted murmur and close their eyes in prayer as they walked through the narrow pass. Those murmurs rose to spoken words as they climbed the rock hand over hand and finally stood before their final trial with no fear, trusting in Mani to guide them to where they should be. And with a final shout to the woven world above, they dove off the mountain.


    The last to dive before me were the promising acolytes who proved themselves along the way. Chosen not by us but by the wolves and the Silver-Horned Stags that joined us of their own accord. They were better judges than we, for it took days for me to notice they were the ones who showed the most fervor in their commitments to helping those with us, just as they were helped- saved from a lifetime of slavery in the Shadeforge. They were the ones who showed an unbreakable conviction to defend this congregation and what it stood for. And so, they would be rewarded.


    "After all this time. Heh, I can''t believe how beautiful all of this is."


    A wide smile stole any hopes of me verbally agreeing. So instead, I turned to the young acolyte with an almost tearful smile. He was a young one, no older than our God. But he still held the scars of his bondage and more, he displayed them proudly. We all did, despite looking so different. He- Lawrence Griffin, was no longer emaciated or dirty. His eyes had the fire of life burning in him once again. But the scars left from an accident involving hot slag left two large spots on the side of his head, leaving significant gaps in his growing hair; shocked from color by stress and trauma. How at peace he seemed now. His face held a smile of contentment and his eyes contained a sparkle of a million emotions and convictions as he gazed upon the surface.


    Seeming to catch me staring, he gave his magnificent companion a firm pat and turned his eyes to me. "I''m still surprised to find a deep gnome adapting to the sun so well."


    "Hah!" I laughed heartily, remembering one of the greatest days of my life. "I had the same blessings and visions to acclimatize me to the surface as you did. Although, the sun still stings horribly." I chuckled. "Still, though, it is worth it. The surface is beautiful, and the Lord''s work is in full bloom, even during the day."


    Catching my meaning, he turned his gaze up to the woven worlds dancing above the peninsula. They were both big and small. Tiny specs of light and towering monoliths floating in the sky all the same.


    We continued admiring God''s work, even while we walked through that narrow pass. Even while we climbed the rock wall. And for some, even as they fell from it, losing their purchase.


    It was another acolyte. An older woman by the name of Grace Duffy. She was the first chosen by the wolves and worked with them furiously to protect us from harm. Now, a single misstep saw her plummet from whence we came. And so, with equal fury, I dove off the cliff after her, uttering a prayer to slow her from her fall. But before my words could form into power, I found myself shrunk down to the size of a doll, resting in Amun''s cupped hands.


    "That''s one way to do it." He smiled as if he wanted to laugh, spreading a similar sense of humerus joy through my spirit as I was lifted and placed back on the rock wall, just as I''d been. Only now, tears befell my face. Grace''s as well.


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    "Did you see him too, Grace?" I asked, assuming I half knew the answer.


    Assuming.


    "I did!" She smiled wide, still looking up as she climbed hand over hand. "And more. I was shown a grand future. A duty and an honor, bestowed upon me by Mani himself." She fell to her knee the moment she rounded the summit, embracing her wolf while they both looked to the sky with the fires of determination. "I will be the thread to the World Weaver''s needle, stitching freedom into the lands in his wake!"


    "And may those worlds dance beautifully!" I echoed along with the others, and together, we turned to see the end of our pilgrimage.


    We turned to see the summit from on high. The summit of the mountain we''d spent all this time climbing was down below, at a point that made us crane our heads up so as to see a once-buried hand surfacing and detaching from the realm''s tallest peak. The palm of that hand was like a floating dais that held no buildings, tents, or holes. Only a silver forest that spiraled around a monolith of white metal. Its fingers were forests, seas, grasslands, desert, and tundra; detached to orbit this platform- this Planetary Sanctum, in perpetuity. Within them were apartments, farms, and all the other things we needed to live sufficiently and see each denomination increase its service tenfold. But here, in the palm of God''s hand, was where we were served.


    Here, above the rolling white blanket spread around us, Mani''s uninhibited light poured into that spire, giving us a blanket of protection, light, and hope. Giving us wings, eyes, and legs. Ever devoted, were we, we approached that spire before all others, approaching with prayers and offerings before we joined Lady Zakira in acting as sentries next to the spire, watching the promising acolytes like Louise and Grace sort the hundreds of others into their denominations.


    "This is the first of the World Weaver''s Temples," she said after moments of admiration. "Like Mani and the worlds orbiting it, the worlds he will weave for his Legions will be unique. No matter where we go, a world will follow. As will we."


    There was no emotion to her words, only an absolute finality. The same finality one used when they mentioned going to the lavatory. It seemed blunt and insignificant, yet it was anything but.


    "Yes." I nodded. "It shall serve as a model to all other Temples."


    The Silverskin Lady shook her head. "Not just that." She paused, turning to me. "I am the first cleric. You are the first priestess. We''ll be leaving this place with Amun next year. Someone here will become the Core of this World, Nyella."


    "Then you shall have my word," I said, both to her and God. "I, Nyella Lichenstone, shall serve as the model for all others to follow!"


    Now she smiled. "Good." Then she turned to look over the various worlds, bringing me to remember the glorious feeling of satisfaction when we shared yet another change to the almost complete Order of Worlds.


    "Louis will lead them well." I nodded to the sphere of forests and ponds in the distance. "He has likened to calling them the Silverhorn Herd."


    "Yeah." Lady Zakira smiled wider. "The deer made him wiser. He''s been teaching people and helped a lot during the journey, making sure people were okay."


    "He has expressed great interest in reforming people as well. And liberating them." I added before turning to the Blood Moon of Wolves. "Grace is the same. She and her wolves have been fighting tooth and nail to protect everyone from wandering rangers. I''m sure, after some rest, she''ll need no convincing to join him."


    Our lighthearted talks continued in the same pattern as the Water World of dual purpose. Two creatures swam in the seas of that world. Cephalopods and Cetaceans. And yet, only the Dolphins and their chosen humans dwelled on or near the few islands on its surface. Patty Combs and her dolphins had shown fervor in venturing down and across the mountain in search of more acolytes, using their blessings of flight to make contact with as many people as possible and initiate them into the Order by way of a leap of faith. On the contrary, Nigel and the cephalopods were therapists and healers. In their bubbles beneath the sea, they chose to offer a soothing respite for those troubled and traumatized by the horrors of existence. Or anything else for that matter. Then there was the Eclipse Council. The most complete denomination as of yet was the World of Lunar Moths, led by Lula Livingston. Seers, they were, graced by the touch of divine moths to give guidance and counseling to others, be it spiritual, financial, or otherwise in nature. In that regard, Lady Zakira referred to them by another name.


    Oracles.


    I could only imagine their accomplishments over the coming weeks, but now was a time for rest. They knew it as well as I did, for the scattered lights that flicked on just moments before were blinking out faster and faster. But¡­


    "Is there a world for us?"


    She had grown so much over the last two tendays or so. But always, there would be a childish nature to Lady Zakira. It showed after my inquiry in full force. The Silverskin Lady grabbed my hand, only releasing me once we approached the edge and my momentum could only carry me forward. Yet, I dove all the same. Face-forward, I jumped and saw the world open up beneath me. But I did not fall. Not down at least. Upwards, I fell. Up and up and up until my feet landed on solid ground; wherein I turned my gaze upon a shattered bowl of white stone, silver grass, and a lake of holy water. A cirque. One with a cave opening up on the rising slope.


    Grabbing my hand once more, Lady Zakira led me into the cave, which became a sparkling annex of crystals and jewels that continued to a lawn of miniature trees set between two abodes. One was carved into the likeness of an estate with open rooms and the other a gothic castle, both carved out of the white rock itself. Between them, encased in the crystal wall, was a pristine set of armor that seemed as silver as the homes straddling it. Its metal plates seemed to be without seams, except the joints, of course, but even the helmet had a face that bore no holes or markings. Only a ponytail of blood-red strings protruded from the back of the head; on the chest, a tiny world, beating like a heart.


    No. Not just a world, and not like a heart.


    It was the beating heart of Mani itself, and, trapped in the crystal beside it, was a white robe that contained a similarly beating heart.


    My beating heart.

 273 - Devoted Depths

    Syele.


    24th of Ianua, 1492.


    Twilight Sanctuary, Bodhi Tree Darkworld.


    7:25 AM.


    ***


    I knew these realms were vast. Or, I thought I did when I was liberated, but never would I have believed the realms below the surface could stretch so deeply. I thought I did when I returned to the surface on a pilgrimage. The lands I saw, the things I''d seen. Snow. Open skies. Trees, animals, and insects. People and their winding cities. It was¡­ unbearable. Even with the grace and the visions and the therapy, I did not like the surface, but I could not deny its beauty. As the saying went, however, I did not know true beauty until I left it behind.


    The Underground. The Darkworld. In their unique ways, they were beautiful, yet they were doubly as dangerous as the surface, and so their beauty often went overlooked. From the comfort of the vehicles we received, we could admire that beauty, but there was an entirely different danger. Insanity. Madness born from confinement within a metal tube that rattled all hours of the day and night. The fearful insanity of being stuck close to hissing pipes and buzzing screens. If I was not a pious woman, I would have surely lost my mind, but instead, I prayed, and because my God was glorious, he answered. He graced me with silence and peace of mind while we tunneled deeper and deeper until finally, we came to a stop.


    We''d hardly made a dent in the Underground by then, but by the 11th of the month, we made it deep enough for magma channels to be common all around us. It was there that we found a small cavern and sent our undead out to claim an area. Or that''s what I thought.


    I was enraptured by many things. Prayer. Worship. Admiring the many enchanted items sent through the shadows and cheerfully imagining where the many new zombies and skeletons came from. It was due to that, that I did not notice what was being constructed until it was already complete; and with the Owl being the Owl, it was a form of worship to find joy in learning what it was.


    It was a¡­ platform. Two platforms standing above parallel rails of Darkspace-infused mithral. Lodges were attached to each of them, boasting fancy taverns and inns combined in a single building to offer us respite from those uncomfortable conditions. But that was not the main feature. The main feature was what sat atop those rails. A chain of cylindrical mine carts, completely sealed and linked together by the dozens. At the front sat two connected beasts of enchanted machinery. The second drove the entire chain- or as Madame Opal called it, the train forward. But the first head was the centerpiece.


    It was a drill made larger than any gray dwarf could even imagine- a house for some form of specter. The wraith''s job was to scout the area ahead of the drill and direct it away from caverns or occupied territories. In turn, some sort of mechanical system used a temporally displaced enchantment to install more Darkspace rails along the route using some strange and complex machinery.


    That alone increased our tunneling speed by leaps and bounds. However, the drill didn''t crush rock so much as it ate them, transporting the material into a timeless subspace just behind the drill head. There, machines and undead refined and fabricated the materials into the components of a tunnel that would emerge and be installed as the rest of the train went along. There was a catch, however. The Underground and the Darkworld both contained natural pockets that led to the Shadow Realm. Thus the Plane of Darkness was where the tunnels would stretch. Or rather, a quasi Plane of Darkness.


    The Darkspace Tunnel.


    There were no noisy vibrations in the tunnel of night; and, while there would normally be nothing to see outside the windows, the enchantments within the sealed carts afforded us the same views as if we were clinging to the outside of the train, and in a level of luxury on par with the worlds of Eotrom. The spaces were much bigger than they would seem on the outside. Wide halls seemed like streets overlooked by terraces of porches and windows above while markets and restaurants lay scattered across the ground level, tended to at all hours by the well-dressed and noticeably clean undead. And the best part of all, the entire train was temporally distorted.


    Of course, Madame Opal and I never had to leave our private carts, and with our seconds, Perry and Rita, we didn''t need to. So instead, we looked through false windows to gaze upon the passing landscape while I learned as much as I could about our new domain.


    As I stated before. Never would I have believed the realms below the surface could stretch so deeply.


    I thought myself so insignificant when I saw that line of golden light snaking through what appeared to be a plate. And then, the illusion was ''magnified.'' More and more the image blew up until I came to realize how deep and how far into the ground we were to go.


    In short, as deep as physically possible.


    From Elijah''s estate on the surface, at the base of the Rhar Mountains, we carved our way through 10,000 kilometers of rock and metal to reach the realm in which I spent my entire life. We made it to the Darkworld, but still, we plummeted deeper at a nonstop pace for days more, watching the landscape pass through the perspective of our spectral scout and preaching the Owl''s wicked word to the thousand-plus passengers in the carts behind us.


    According to the Owl''s teachings, that was the tip of the mountain.


    The unnamed, corruptive energy infamous to the realm was what marked the transition between the mound dwarf and rock gnome-occupied Underground and the Darkworld we were all familiar with. The border, however, was based on much more than that. 10,000 kilometers was said to be the average depth of the World Seas. At such depths, pressure saw water solidify into an exotic form of ice known as Ice VII. Additionally, it was at that depth that, below the ground surface, magma and molten metals were crushed under so much pressure that they no longer flowed as liquids, behaving more like solids whilst in liquid form. Everything above that was the Underground, where we left beacons for future undead to build refineries and chemical plants for the common metals and oil found in abundance up there.


    Everything between a depth of 10,000 to 200,000 kilometers was the upper reaches of the Darkworld, the land of bioluminescent fungus and mutated creatures corrupted by the foul energies of the place. A place those of the Nox and thus we of the Black Plume designated as the Dark Sky. It was here where I spent my life in bondage. Now, with the train a few carts shorter, it would be the lands that would welcome our new acolytes.


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    As we continued, passing through those furthest reaches, the Owl''s Feathers taught us that such depths were the transitional area of plate tectonics, where rock and magma no longer flowed to push mountains into the sky or rip landscapes apart. As such, the realm grew to be more exotic, with wildly fluctuating temperatures in various regions.


    We saw what he meant through the false windows displaying massive steaming tunnels and glowing walls of magma alike. Molten metals, Opal corrected me without fail. But I digress. Due to the geography above, we learned that ores containing metals with high melting points like tungsten, mithral, and adamantine often fell through less dense areas of rock or magma and heated metals above, clumping into large bodies until they gained enough mass to fall through to the next layer.


    Those chunks had enough heat to melt through rock and ice easily, forming vast caverns and tunnels that become exotic landscapes and hot spots as the, often city-sized deposits become insulated in stone and cooled slowly over time. That, I learned, was the reasoning behind flowing water being a common sight despite us descending further by the second. But so too did I learn that the vastness of those caverns made this the most populated region of the Darkworld, where caverns could bloom to the size of the counties and provinces far above. And though it took a fair detour to maneuver around civilized caverns or tunnels filled with life, we eventually found a vast and relatively dead cavern to leave a few carts behind in. Yet, we descended further.


    We tunneled beyond the 400,000-kilometer mark and continued down to 900,000 kilometers. Down to a place not even Opal, or any of us other than the Owl had seen. One that made us erupt in zealous prayer by witnessing its grandeur.


    "The True Darkworld." The Owl made his presence just to declare its name to us. It was a gelid expanse of almost nothing but ice and precious metals crushed to unbelievable densities. Called ''True'', because its caverns spanned tens of thousands of kilometers in all dimensions, in some cases equating to the realms found above. Many of them mirrored entire surface continents. This one, however, was not the case. It was still vast enough to give the illusion of being outdoors, however, with skies as high as the surface, curtained by mountainous pillars of dense metal and colossal bioluminescent roots.


    Even more grand was the abundance of material that passed by our eyes. The depth was so grand that it seemed rocks and gemstones had been forced out of the walls, leaving walls and pillars of dense and highly pure ore painted with a mural of exotic ice white, adamantine gray-green, and mithral gray-silver, standing between dust deserts, mushroom forests, mossy hills, slime swamps, and hard water seas.


    Rather than raise a world in the sky, the Owl explained, the worlds of the Black Plume would be here, in the True Darkworld, filled with hundreds of millions of individuals graced by twilight to thrive in the darkness. Indeed, many of the carts remained in that vast expanse. Yet, more continued down another 5,000 kilometers through the impossible-to-mine metal; but the interdimensional drill snaked on all the same, breaching through to an entirely new realm in just a few hours.


    That realm was the Deep Dark. A realm almost absent of rock and ice entirely.


    Set between 900,000 and 1.4 million kilometers underground, the metals were compressed to their maximum, a state the Owl called, ''Degenerate Matter.'' That compression- that pressure led to an ambient temperature high enough to melt any ambient ice in the area, in turn cooling down the caverns to a reasonable level. But the problem was the structure itself. Being in a Degenerate state, the Owl explained through the aid of a vision, made mining the already hard mithral and adamantine nearly impossible even for the heartiest gray dwarf. Instead, any creature, civilized or not, would find a naturally occurring chamber to occupy and use as a vault. Assuming they could descend this far in the first place.


    As our ride has shown us, however, we had no such problems. Indeed, the Deep Dark would be where the Exalted Gloom''s riders and the high clergy of the Plume would train. But still, it wasn''t the end of the line.


    Unbeknownst even to the undead Shadeforge King, there were four thousand kilometers of degenerate matter separating the Underdark from a corruption-less realm known only to those associated with the Nox.


    The Abyss.


    Like one of a thousand air bubbles in a pan of boiling water- or one of the trillions of support arches spread across the realms- pockets like the ones we arrived in were scattered across the Mortal Plane from rim to edge as if to act as supports for the uncountable tons of material above us. Or, that was the theory.


    Only five thousand kilometers of open caverns separated that ceiling from 1,000 kilometers of degenerate matter on the floor that, in itself, created a barrier between us and the Mortal Plane''s foundation: the indestructible material the Owl referred to as Telinite. Indeed, this was the closest one could physically get to the Underworld without approaching the gate in Hell. A perfectly square space with a perfectly smooth floor measuring 2,500 kilometers to each side, ending in sheer cliffs for walls that rounded up into fan-vaulted ceilings that seemed both natural and handmade.


    We erupted in praise as the Owl flapped down from the train and stood to take on the darker form of our God, appearing just like him as all our Doppelgangers would. He cradled a shade tree in his arms - a miniaturized one - and from his pit of darkness came a flood of stone, water, seeds, and other materials not native to this place. They spun about the air around him, at least until the Owl plucked an acorn off the shade tree to imbue it with twilight- a blessing to have it persist dually on many things. Light and darkness. Pestilence and Purity. Metal and Blood. Life and Death.


    As he would with a divine tree seed, the Owl sowed the Dusk Tree alongside a divine wise rock, buried atop the mountain of material he pulled from his darkness, and with a final burst of deep blue, sea green, and gilded black energy, the vast expanse around us changed in an instant.


    Our praises rose to a pitch that seemed to vibrate the walls around us, even as they bloomed and expanded to distances far beyond what they once were. The walls and ceiling seemed to be chased by the arcane veins of golds, purples, oranges, and blacks spreading in each cardinal direction and down into the abyssal sea as much as the ascending mountain, inverted on the ceiling to form a mound for the Dusk Tree, sown in the heart of the Bodhi Peninsula.


    Those burrowing roots uplifted the stalactites that had grown along the ceiling, creating floating hills or castles suspended above the abyssal expanse beneath the inverted tree, dusted with the same black, violet, gold, and orange flora as the verdant Duskwoods sprawled around the tree, filled already with felines both big and small, exploring their new territories from the trees to the hills. Minks, badgers, ferrets, and werewolves were digging through the fresh soil introduced to the dank cavern to begin mining the dense material above. Otters and beavers got to work exploring the abyssal waters to build waterways and dams. Dusk rodents and gloom serpents slithered through the eternal shade, hiding forever from the silent killers of the eternal twilight.


    All of those creatures were venerated, of course. But none so much as owls. Owls and Shadow Dragons. Thus it meant everything to us when our newly fledged dusk owls descended upon me and Opal, bestowing me a divine wise rock, and Madame Opal, a Divine Tree seed. Moreover, they spoke to us. Mine introduced itself as Dewie and told me to throw my rock at one of the floating boulders to make a nest while Madame Opal''s told her to wait until the Owl instructed her to plant the tree and instead, do as I did and raise her tower. And so, Madame Opal went to the alcoves at the southern wall to raise her blood-powered gothic tower of precious metals, gilded stone, and darkened gold. I followed to raise my tower in the alcove across from hers, creating my nest from the same materials.


    The other creatures of the night descended upon the undead, giving them tasks to turn this place into a true Sanctuary. Meanwhile, our seconds, Perry and Rita took their seconds, Daniella and Newton, and organized the other prospective members of the Body behind them. As did Grotto and Mika with the members of the Talon; as well as Limy and Grooshk from the Beak; and Kele and Art from the Nest.


    All of the groups were vastly different in terms of purpose and worship. But, as they stood before us as silently as the skeletons, I could hear their hearts screaming in tandem for the same thing as mine.


    And so, we began.

 274 - The Basilica of Shadows

    Elijah.


    24th of Ianua, 1492.


    Rhar Mountains, Surface Brooding Lair.


    7:36 PM.


    [Prestige Fighter. Gloom Knight, Step 2: Incubation.]


    [Step 1 Reward: Passive Skill - [Draconic Nursery Instinct] - The knowledge granted to you by the Exalted Gloom allows you to more easily bond with your draconic embryo, enabling you to know its needs, incubation progress, and comfort levels.]


    [Rewards: Evolution - [Draconic Nesting Aura] - The power granted to you by the Exalted Gloom enables you to form a suitable incubation environment for your chosen egg via nesting, allowing your future mount to adopt your attributes.]


    [Gloom Knight, Step 3: Hatchling - Now that you have tamed creatures of a draconic origin, you must goad them into laying a clutch of eggs, then claim one to incubate until hatching.]


    ***


    "It''s a shame I can''t do that."


    I hadn''t even realized I was playing with my food again. A bad habit I picked up shortly after being freed and elevated in standing with just one drink.


    Quickly, I pulled the blood into my thumb and turned to Art''s crimson eyes, staring apologetically into mine before they turned away.


    I began to speak but soon swallowed my words once the lanky human- or once human- effortlessly lifted a boulder overhead. "Never thought I''d be able to do this, though." He smiled weirdly, then tossed the rock aside in a loud crash that echoed down the cave, returning irritated growls and screeches mere moments later. "Never thought any o'' this would happen." Art planted himself in his throne next to mine with a soft chortle. "Being free of gray dwarves. Stealing strength from other creatures. Devoting myself to a God and a Dragon. Heh, much less these. It all happened so fast."


    My eyes followed his gesture below the strange seats made for us. It was your standard chair if one ignored the glass box contained within the legs. A temporal domain was placed within. Alongside a plush pillow and an oversized egg, now an inky black instead of their normal crimson hue.


    "Hey!" we both jumped from Kele''s scream and turned to see the dark gnome''s crimson orbs aimed at her five subordinates below. "One of you bring me something! I''m hungry."


    As if on cue, the box my chair was built around started to rattle. Art and Kele''s soon followed, so I waved my hand down towards the others. "All of you come up here! It''s time!"


    I listened to the fifteen beating hearts approach and take up posts around me with pride, refusing to acknowledge the thrashing seat beneath me until they arrived with eager eyes. They brought blood packs too, which Art and Kele tore down voraciously while I stored mine for later; then stood, turned, and took a deep breath.


    Focusing on my spirit, I unleashed a wave of draconic pheromones through the air before I pulled the chair off the nest and sat, focused and eager to see this miracle turn its course.


    The creatures I called to this place had been artificially impregnated with the Exalted Gloom''s draconic sorcery. Evidently, that was how dragons amassed armies to do their bidding, which made me all the more curious to see what traits they would have. Traits that, I was certain, synergized with our natural abilities perfectly.


    Over a half hour, the onyx boulder that had been protected and kept cool by my chair throne blasted apart, revealing a scaled hide that rippled with strength as it broke free from its cage. Yawning its beaked maw, it stretched leather wings out into the cavern, sending wisps of darkness trailing behind the strong gusts of its hapless flapping.


    It appeared much like a dragon, the Greater Drake. It was around the size of a large dog or a small wolf, suggesting it would grow to be strong and durable enough to carry my weight in flight, yet agile enough for areal combative maneuvers. Not to mention, from my imparted knowledge, I knew it would develop the ability to breathe an umbral fire dissimilar to the Flames of Moil. In short, it was perfect for the open skies of the surface.


    At night.


    As if it were waiting patiently for my drake to become familiar with me, Art''s shell soon broke free. From it, came a beast much like mine, but was longer from snout to tail and sat in a squat-like posture, giving it the appearance of a black Crocodilian with wings.


    The Greater Draco was the best of both worlds, I was soon informed through the Exalted Gloom''s influence. It still possessed a breath attack and was capable of rapid swimming and had a greater land speed and a higher endurance than greater drakes but were relatively weak fliers. As a result, they were perfect for the surface and underground operations of a Gloom Stalker.


    Finally, a lean and powerful creature broke from its shell to approach the dark gnome. Like a snake with long legs and slender wings, Dragines were faster than the two others combined, be it on land or underwater. Their streamlined bodies made them perfect for rapid, long-duration flights, swims, runs, or even climbs, especially underground. Though, naturally, they could carry less than the others. Rather than a breath attack, they had a powerful roar that could frighten anyone who heard it into a state of paralysis, making them perfect for the echoing caverns of the Darkworld. The domain of the Exalted Gloom''s Inquisitor: Kele.


    With haste, we corralled and herded our hatchlings down the twin staircases leading out of the cave to wheel about, entering the alcove just below. Inside was a grand castle of onyx and gold that almost seemed to grow out of the surrounding stone, and though the threshold was without a door, the three of us laid onyx, black opal, dark gems, and gold on the porch. Then stepped inside.


    In a rather bright mood, apparently, the Exalted Gloom took our offerings with little more than a purr in the night and led us inside to hear her glory, but not show it.


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    She took our mounts to prepare some draconic magic, giving us a wise rock pebble and instructions to form her lair in the Twilight Sanctuary whilst reminding us to make a wing for ourselves and, more importantly, a lair for her. To be used for her sacrifices.


    Bowing graciously, we left the alcove, taking an immediate right to face a platform of stone and metal set before a sloping tunnel. There, we climbed aboard a train and took the Shade Tunnel down, stopping along each nest of the Black Plume to pick up or drop off various members before we arrived in the Sanctuary after only minutes.


    Being many of our first time, we took stock of the place during the slow monorail transit. The route snaked us through the carved boulders and gothic castles suspended above the endless darkness below. They orbited the Divine Gloom Tree, inverted on a mound in the center, casting grandiose constellations around those standing on the surrounding mountain, gazing at the verdant forest spread across the ceiling.


    They, however, were tame in comparison to the castles of blood, Darkworld metals, and gold at the southern end. Madame''s Opal and Syele sat to the left and right, constructed into the likeness of great wings attached to the alcove at the center. My target.


    Dutifully, I placed the stone within and watched- prayed with the other devoted as the Exalted Gloom''s lair formed into the likeness of a devil-horned owl with a draconic beak. And again, Art, Kele, and myself laid out a mat of gold and onyx stones along with our praise. This time, Cononthoth appeared in all of her glory, and with gifts to exchange. Armor made from scales procured from her glorious scales; and our bonded hatchlings, sitting ready and eager to be named by way of a ritual.


    "Hodur!"


    "Slade!"


    "Calamus!


    The hour of ritualistic chanting and prayer ended with the declaration of those names, resulting in a deluge of energy flowing from us and the Divine Dragon of Darkness. Into our mounts they flowed, maturing them into three paragons of their former selves in a matter of moments whilst painful changes rippled through our bodies; and therein brought visions that brought an entirely new perspective.


    From the eyes of Hodur, I looked at myself as a beacon of light-rimmed darkness. I smelled¡­ sweet. I felt like¡­ home. But then, I felt the flow cease. Back in my body, I could see the words telling me what I already knew: that I could share senses with Hodur and call him from afar.


    "The Elven Devil has provided you with saddles and collars. You can ride throughout the day, my young knights. So go. Ride."


    Rather than elaborate further, the other lights and letters persisting in our vision wiggled and wobbled to pull our attention to the map function of NoxNet. Although it was similar to my grimoire, I still wasn''t used to it. I still couldn''t wrap my head around the idea that, outside of those sworn into the Legions, no one could see the lines of twilight spreading around my feet to form mountain ranges and frosted forests and open tundras. But those sworn to me, Art and Kele and the thirteen others, they could see.


    They could see the black box floating on the far side of the mountain, deep inside the territories of the Ligin Kingdom. More, they could see the plan that soon formed in my mind, being represented as a series of dissimilarly colored lines that ran above and through the mountain. However, I still explained to the Exalted Gloom while we prepped our undead and materials inside our saddlebags.


    "We will ride over the mountain to investigate the necrotic presence. Meanwhile, our undead shall construct a tunnel nearby. I imagine us venturing over the mountain frequently in the coming months. It should lead to more people venturing into these parts."


    "More meat." Cononthoth corrected, though I felt a strong hint that she was pleased with my decision.


    With many undead under my command utilizing enchanted drills and other machinery, the work was nearly completed by the time we arrived at some ruins that could have been a cathedral or building of government in its era. Now, it was nearly swallowed by the snow and forest.


    "I see why they named it the Basilica of Sorrows." Art hopped off his mount with a chuckle. "It-"


    "Please." Kele groaned. "Not another fucking joke."


    "Alright, alright." He raised his hands in surrender, but his face betrayed his thoughts to test the waters.


    "You two stay here," I told them. "Set up some mist burners and guard the perimeter."


    With a nod, they were off, and with a kick to the warped door, so was I, entering a vast hall of disheveled seats and piles of wood slowly being reclaimed by flowers, fungi, and vines. Going right, I entered an identical room. Smaller, yet holding nothing of note inside. Thus I went across the main chamber and into a room of many broken shelves and bookcases, wherein I found a rotted corpse.


    Using my ring, I palmed him, sending power through its bones that returned as arcane fire to illuminate its eyes and speak to me in wheezing breaths. He told of him being an adventurer from some three centuries ago, sent to investigate a strange beast that claimed the abandoned Basilica its lair. After asking how he found the place, he gestured to an odd breastplate nearby, stating he found it within a dungeon in Redagh and followed the clues here.


    After discussing what to do with Nigel, my Lore Skull, I stored the breastplate and moved left through the only other door room. Inside were many spoiled grains and ruptured barrels scattered before the remnants of a bookshelf that failed to conceal the strange hole in the wall; worn by time, but with noticeable grooves around the edges. It was almost as if someone climbed in and out regularly.


    Not someone. Something.


    Something that radiated death just as much as I did. And so, I tore down the wall to come face to face with a massive and vile mash-up of creatures. The underbelly was of decayed fur while the head was that of a scaled lion with ram-like horns, rotted claws were crossed over each other to the front while cloven hooves were pushed into the dirt to the rear, their hides occluded by large, draconic wings folded neatly over its scaled back.


    "Why that, is an undead chimera." Nigel surmised before floating about the room, shouting, "Hello, cousin!" as he passed.


    The creature paid us no mind. So I went right past it and down the staircase it guarded to find a chest loaded with gold along with tattered documents and a vial of holy water, of all things.


    Tentatively, I took the water and sent it through the darkness first, intending for Madame Opal to turn it unholy and get it away from this place as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, the gold went to me and the documents went to Amun to be salvaged. Just like that, my task was complete. But¡­ I felt as if I wasn''t done. I felt as if I had more to do still.


    "Hmm." I turned, spotting the chimera, wherein I was slapped by inspiration. I prayed and prayed to Amun. If only for seconds before it fell before me. A little stone that looked like a tiny cave.


    I threw to the undead chimera as I passed by and it jumped to life at once, snapping its head up to catch the rock and pin it down to be gnawed on or scratched at until the stone wrapped around a canine, and with that, I left, ensuring to stop to raise the skeleton and leave him with a few others to rebuild the place in my absence. Because, of course, the Exalted Gloom had more work for us to do.


    A pit of darkness opened nearby, leading me to guide Art, Kele, and their subordinates to a place unlike anything we''ve ever seen.


    Even to my eyes, the realm was colorless and dreary; darkened by a perpetual overcast that seemed to snuff out as much sound as it did light. Many foul creatures stalked about, even by my standards. Maggot-like things the size of cows churned in the mud beneath the uncaring soles of giant horned humanoids lumbering over the canopy of a fetid forest. This was the Shadow Realm, I knew. But so too was this the Exalted Gloom, I realized.


    This was Amun. This was Conontoth. In turn, this was me.


    Seemingly but unlikely spooked, our mounts took off just moments after they entered. Our connections had yet to grow strong, so it took a moment to connect and realize where, or rather, who they were running off to, and in realization, I followed at nearly double the pace, smiling like a child until I saw a familiar figure emerge from the gloom.


    "Of course!" I fell to my knees, laughing. "This is where you''ve been all this time! How different you look."

 275 - Becoming Darkness

    Urshure.


    [Prestige Warlock: Envoy of the Prismatic Queen, Step 3: Clan.]


    [Step 2 Reward: Evolution - [Tiamat''s Pheromones] - The touch of your patron has imbued you with her mark, making you known to all true dragons whilst simultaneously masking your ties with your fellow dragonborne.]


    [Step 2 Reward: Transformation - [Shadowfire Dragonborne] - Due to the time spent in the Realm of Shadows, the entropic energies have permanently corrupted you, transforming your flesh and the arcane fire within with the cold touch of darkness and death.]


    [Now that you have completed the Trial of Five Deaths, you emerge as a creature of the night, ready to build a clan of devoted cultists by having them undergo the same ritual.]


    ***


    "This is your duty, my child."


    I bowed, opening my eyes just enough to see the coveted talisman floating above the inky muck. Then they closed. "I follow eternally, my Queen."


    A series of approving clicks preceded the Queen''s departure, giving me reign to rise and clutch the talisman in both claws to look upon its glory. A claw-sized coin of gold, emblazoned with what used to be the heads of the Seven Venerated Chromatics; Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet, and now, Black. Darkness.


    Gloom.


    To make more dragonborne to serve the gloom was my duty for my Queen. But for the Exalted Gloom, I had a mission. The muck and the shades, the Trial of Five Deaths. That was my mission. Both for myself and others.


    A small, sacrilegious thought crossed my mind as I turned, seeing a giant of a humanoid with the curled horns of a ram lumbering through the decayed forest. A faceless creature. A nightmare. Many were fought over the past month. Many, and many more foul creatures of the Shadow Realm. But now, I was the night itself, and that blank face looked upon me not as an intruder but as a member of its clan.


    "Lost." A low, droning voice echoed for minutes on end as it bent impossibly low, reaching out a clawed hand for me to climb onto and be carried. Carried across the gloomy land of fetid trees, squirming bogs, and purple rains. My domain. The Realm of Shadows.


    I was carried back to my lair, where a dozen faces stood waiting for me, led by the creatures who favored blood. Creatures of the night, like me.


    "Of course! This is where you''ve been!" Came a laugh that, just a year ago, would have agitated me. Now, however, Elijah of the Blackblood was clan. Thus his words were welcomed with as much warmth as this realm could afford.


    "Yes." I clasped his arm tightly. "Becoming darkness. Your being here suggests you and yours must undergo the Trial of Five Deaths also."


    "Erm... yeah," he said with clear uncertainty. "That, and knowledge of the Venerated."


    "The original true dragons." I nodded, gesturing to the foyer for them to sit. "The Nonusian Tree of Life''s first offspring was the Platinum Dragon and the Prismatic Queen Tiamat. They reproduced on their own, creating the first metallic and chromatic dragons. Those who come from their bloodline are the Venerated, retaining the memories of the Draconic Deities through genetic inheritance. Yet, after they hatched, the Tree of Life birthed the same types of dragons. Lesser in the sense that mana does not react to their presence."


    "And the Exalted Gloom is from a venerated bloodline." Elijah wisely presumed.


    I nodded in accordance. "And now that she has become a divine dragon of shadow, allied with the Eternal Champion, the Prismatic Queen has an edge over the Platinum Dragon. Thus she wishes for this new draconic phenotype to grow in numbers, both by the Exalted Gloom mating and corrupting other venerable dragons.


    "There is no concern over there being a dragon of light," I added soon after. "Not unless Amun creates a dragon of twilight or moonlight with his essence. I assume a dragon created from his technology would come before that. Even if that were the case, however, they would still act according to his beliefs. The risks are acceptable to the Queen. Thus I shall make the same happen with dragonborne."


    "I guess that explains it." Elijah sheepishly smiled.


    "That it does." I shook his shoulder firmly before rising to head deeper into the lair. "Come. Let us begin your trials."


    "Five Deaths, right?" One of the human vampires behind us asked.


    "Yes." I nodded without looking their way. "A ritual that sacrifices pieces of one''s spirit and soul to the Shadow Realm, gifting you with longevity and strength under darkness. Now," I paused before the foolishly named room of temporal displacement and faced them. "Strip."


    The young vampire spawns exchanged weary glances with each other before turning to Elijah, already in the nude and halfway inside the chamber.


    "NoxNet will explain the process to you, then its function will temporarily cease, leaving you on your own." I gave a small nod to the lot of them in a display of confidence, then shut the door. "I will see you on the other side."


    True to my word, I remained outside the chamber for five nights in this place that only grew more gray. That was the least I could do to show my support, for their trials would last five months from their perspectives. Five months of hardships that I knew firsthand. Thus I would see through theirs until the end. Watching intently, night after night.


    The Death of Emotion proceeded smoothly, but being the first, it was the easiest, meant to invoke the object of one''s hatred and vanquish it forever from the mind, body, spirit, and soul; erasing it from their memory, for it was sacrificed to the shadows. Rarer was it to not have an object of hatred. Even Amun was not among those rare ones, for he had many things- abstract things, that he hated. Regardless, be they former oppressors, betrayers, or otherwise, they let their anger go and moved on to their second death.


    The Death of Body was the most troublesome for Elijah and his two senior subordinates. For the vampires, being on the brink of starvation while an ocean of blood sat forever out of reach was the greatest torture imaginable. The wails of the suffering spawned a song of inebriation within the soul, bringing a sense of torment and pain to all who heard it. Especially when the one singing was clan. But I endured, and so too did they, quieting their songs until it was but a whisper, encored by a ballad of throaty gulps and gasps of the potent darkness. Thus they continued proudly into the third death. A night all were used to.


    The Death of Persona was a month of pestilent loneliness that seemed like something we were all familiar with, yet struggled with. Perhaps that, I mused, was why we were both chosen and chose to live in Gloom. It was a night that pushed isolating thoughts on the mind in a way that a cold dark room couldn''t begin to mimic. It conjured visions of losing the clan to death, betrayal, lies, and ruined relationships. It forced thoughts of being forever alone for several lifetimes; cast out, and declared a pariah to all the realms and beyond. Any cry for help, any complaint or plea for company was seen as a coming of the dawn. A failure of the die and the means to do it again. Many of them repeated the night time after time after time after¡­


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    Only when they ventured through the night with naught a peep could they continue one to the fourth death.


    Like the first, the Death of Mind was that of a fearful night that involved conjuring one''s greatest fear and overcoming it. Not by vanquishing it or even facing it, but by accepting the object of one''s fear wholly. This meant letting those fearful things attack you and accepting the outcome. Accepting that and so much more. In turn, it dispersed the primitive ramblings of the mind that made those fearful things so troubling, bringing them to the fifth and final death. By far, the most troublesome one.


    Like the first and the fourth, something had to be conjured for the Death of Spirit. Not the object of one''s anger or the item of one''s terror, but their most valued moment of happiness. A memory of pure joy. Their strongest feeling of utter bliss. The thing that held the most of their spirit.


    For the spawn, Art and Kele, it was an almost insurmountable task, for it involved the day they were freed from their bondage in the Shadeforge. But eventually, like myself, they came to terms with them having experienced another day to venerate, the day they swore themselves to the Exalted Gloom, and so sacrificed their liberation to the shadows.


    For Elijah, it was different. His moment was significant, but already a lost part of him. Memories of a simplistically blissful life. The time before he died. Having long known he lived a new life now, Elijah held on to that memory as his last shred of humanity until now, when he sacrificed it to the night. Thus he was the first to emerge changed and the only to emerge with no visible changes. He was already a Vampyr. An undead creature of blood. Now, doubly so, he was a creature of the night.


    Although the same was true for Art and Kele, they were vampire spawns. Thus they were the ones to emerge as Vampiric Shades. Beings with eldritch markings of darkness imposed on their pale flesh. Beings of midnight hair, reinforced in stature by way of the same stuff of shadows found in the Doppelgangers and the shadow undead. With darkness at their command, they gracefully and effortlessly received my instruction in riding, maneuvering, and caring for their mounts, eventually gaining enough prowess to keep up with my maneuvers in midair. Which, in itself sparked an internal debate that nearly pulled me to the Material Plane behind Elijah and his Shades; especially when I heard the thunder rattling in those distant skies.


    "Who," I wondered, "would win between us winged commanders now?"


    ***


    Duke.


    [Master Ranger: Thunder Strider, Step 3: Supersonic.]


    ***


    "Faster!" I flapped, feeling the howling winds around my feathers as a wall of insurmountable force. "Faster!" With all my might, I flapped, attempting to push past that barrier and stride. "FASTER!" I knew I felt it, the silence, the peace, the clap. I felt it before I crossed the end of the line, just for a second, but then the sound and chaos came crashing back into the wind, eventually turning to snow and upturned chunks of frozen dirt.


    "Dammit!" I slammed my feathered fist down, ignoring the dull pains of the consequences shortly after.


    "I suppose I should stop being stubborn eventually," I told no one in particular, for my subordinates had gone elsewhere to learn how to fly using those metallic birds Amun and Edward created. And so, feeling a bit foolish for conversing with myself, I turned my eyes to the sky. "Amun, if you are there. I could use some... consultation."


    The final word hadn''t even left my beak by the time I heard the telltale voice behind me. Along with another.


    "I''m always here, Duke. It''s been too long since we''ve spoken."


    I turned with a sense of gratitude nearly overwhelming me and found my hand already outstretched towards Amun, in the flesh. "I understand completely." I waved the matter aside with my free hand. "As Guildmaster, you have far more work than the rest of us. Even more so now, it seems."


    He laughed through his nose as I gazed over the small child floating close by. And his wolves, lounging in the snow nearby. "Skoll, Hati." I bowed to them. "How radiant you two appear. No longer shadow wolves, are we?"


    They growled in disapproval- in disdain.


    "They rejected the divine energy of my realm and became celestial direwolves of the seasons instead." Amun laughed.


    "Hi!"


    I looked down to see the little girl with blue eyes reaching towards my feathers. "Hello." I bowed.


    "I''m Iris Cole. I''ve never met a bird person before. I''m gonna make arms like these. I can help you go faster!" I could hardly make sense of the rapid exchange of words. Truly, all I could do was look at Amun, who wore a proud smile on his face as he nodded in approval.


    "Okay, then." I nodded to the girl- Iris. "However, I must say that it is rude to call me a ''bird person.'' I am a proud Sapiavi! My name is Duccec. My friends, and thus you may call me Duke."


    "Okay, Duke. I apologize. I won''t call you that anymore."


    "Thank you." I bowed. "What do you suggest, Iris?"


    "Okay!" She leaped skyward, making her legs¡­ disappear. Up to the thighs. They simply¡­ unscrewed and vanished in blue light. Yet she floated there, and Amun just stood there as if it were completely normal. "It may sound a bit weird. But you need to put more power into beating your wings instead of displacing air. That will happen by itself. You need more thrust. Just keep diving and beating harder, not faster, and when it happens, just start kicking."


    Amun so childishly snickered at her advice.


    I had concerns.


    "I run the risk of smashing into the ground with each dive," I said in a tone that sounded more pleading than I admired. "I cannot count how many times I have, as my companions say, eaten dirt."


    "Amun will keep you safe." She so innocently smiled. "Just keep diving. Have faith."


    "I am normally not one of faith," I told her with a weak smile. "However, I trust Amun as a friend."


    With no hesitation, that innocent smile grew wider than otherwise possible. "Trust is a type of faith."


    With those few words, and with those eyes that screamed that they believed I could do anything, I was left with no choice. As I had done what felt like hundreds of times before, I climbed higher than the Shards of Mani, breaching the clouds until I came upon the sky''s edge. Only this time, I was accompanied by Iris. A human with amputated fire-spewing legs. A girl who believed I could achieve this.


    And so I would.


    I reached my apex and turned, as I had done before. Only this time, I took heed to Iris'' words.


    "Flap! Flap! Flap! Flap!" She chanted. Quieter and quieter each time as the rushing wind around my feathers returned that insurmountable force before my beak.


    "Stronger! Stronger! Harder! Harder!" She chanted, attempting to push me past that barrier, even as the ground rushed up to meet me.


    "FLAP!" She shouted as I crossed the end of the line. But this time, I did not pull up. I did not alter my course. I did not even close my eyes. I flapped. Hard.


    Into the suddenly bright light, I flapped, and once I was swallowed by an infinite darkness, I flapped again.


    "Flap!"


    The words were muffled into near silence as the light returned with an almost percussive force that threatened to send me hurtling out of control if I didn''t¡­


    "Kick!" I kicked out in equal parts instinct and trust, feeling a precarious platform beneath my feet beneath my talons that launched me through the silent barrier.


    "Flap!" Iris echoed in my mind from somewhere, but all I saw was blue skies and white clouds. Yet, I flapped all the same.


    "Kick!"


    I kicked.


    "Flap!"


    I flapped.


    "Stride on the thunderous beat of your wings!" Iris cheered.


    I strode in through skies in ways my wings would never allow before, zipping and flipping and darting through the air on those thunderous platforms until I came to a grinding halt before Amun and his protege child. Only then did I see it: the crackling electricity dancing off of my feathers and the arcane words detailing the new perks associated with my class.


    "An immunity to electricity and." I looked down at my talons and squawked happily. "Thunder Striders. I could not have done it without you."


    "Not so," Amun smirked, giving me a pat on the shoulder, and at that moment, I saw a deep ravine of green that, should I have dove into it, would have given me more than a few moments to spare. "You just had to find the right place and thread the needle."


    "In that case." I offered a dry laugh to the river of goblins seen within that ravine. "The statement stands."


    "Eh, I guess." Amun shrugged in disagreement while his eyes remained north. Where, over the mountain, an unnatural lightning storm was taking shape.


    ---


    [Step 3 Reward: Passive Skill [Atmospheric Senses] - Your prowess in the sky has increased such that your senses have opened to the very skies themselves, allowing you to read the flows of air and water almost subconsciously.]


    [Step 3 Reward: Transformation [Thunder Striding Talons] - The might of thunder imbued in your talons causes them to treat your sonic booms as stepping stones, enabling you to stride in the wake of your supersonic flight.]


    [Step 3 Reward: Transformation [Lightning Dust Feathers] - The touch of lightning imbued into your feathers grants you the means to control and ride lightning whilst simultaneously making you immune from it.]


    [To continue down the path of the Thunder Strider, you must make your way to the most turbulent skies and find your place within them.]

 276 - Undying Tempest

    Toril O''Connell.


    29th of Ianua, 1492.


    Ligin Kingdom, Wethion Reservation. City of Korlu, The Devoted Citadel.


    2:12 PM.


    [Paladin, Step 3: The Oath.]


    ***


    "So, today''s the big day, huh?"


    Not a second after she spoke those words, our instructor entered the pens with his usual boyish smile. "So, today''s the big day, huh?"


    "I swear Luce, you gotta stop doing that!"


    A charming, annoyance-placating giggle was all I got in response. As usual when dealing with one Lucia Pike. Regardless, I was less annoyed than I would be when asked the question because of this very day. For years, any and every time one learned of my skill set and prospects, it seemed to be the first question asked and the only question cared about.


    "What oath will you make?"


    I groaned as Mack asked the question for a final time. Or rather, for the final time before the question changed to, ''What oath did you make?''


    "It''s a question I''ll ask out of curiosity alone. Should you not want to," Mack said. "You don''t have to share."


    He was a man trapped in his youth, Mack. He appeared much younger than his experience suggested. Even then, he acted younger still. In that way, he was a bit like Amun. Or at least, I was reminded of Amun during his instructions. But, where Amun was a wise man in a child''s body, Mack was just a child with battle experience trapped in a man''s body. A potentially dangerous combination.


    "I''m taking the Oath of the Valkyrie," Lucia nonchalantly explained. "Kinda."


    "Wow!" Mack reeled on his heels. "I mean, we''ve all seen you dress the part. But truly being able to take the Oath is another thing altogether."


    "It''s sort of like a family tradition. Blade Magic." She shrugged. "Should we have a war deity to work for, that is."


    Mack followed her gaze up to the worlds floating high above but said nothing. At least until Issac Galliard stepped forth. "Likewise, I am to take the Oath of the Shield like my forefathers."


    "I''m sure you''ll make them proud." Mack smiled weakly. Weaker than his compliment, even.


    "I am the knight of a ranger." Quinn Leonhard muttered afterward. "A Settler, he is. As such, I''ve thought long and hard about it, and I''ve decided to take the Oath of Liberation."


    "An honorable choice." Mack nodded appropriately, then almost suddenly shifted his anxious eyes to me.


    In truth, I knew what oath I wanted to take since we first spoke to Amun about our classes. And yet, I read through as many oaths in the Bodhi Tree''s library as I could to try and get an idea of what the oath should even cover. And with it being a Prestige Class, one never before obtained, there was no way to just give him the name without it sounding misleading. So, I just explained it in the easiest way I could.


    "You''ll see." I smiled.


    "Very well." He sighed in disappointment. "You all may go. But, Toril. If I may have a word with you."


    "Sure." I sighed this time and sighed again once Luce walked away with a snickering grin.


    "Not to worry." Mack approached with raised hands shortly after. "I just wanted to give you some pointers on that weapon of yours. Do you know what it''s made of?"


    "Leiptr Steel." I nodded. "And gold. And adamantine."


    "The steel," he cut me short. "My homeland is a good source of it. What do you know of its properties?"


    "It''s heavy." I snorted. "Stores electricity well. Doesn''t break under combustion."


    "All true." He nodded. "That''s just the start of it, however. Cobalt dragons make it out of cobalt. That''s why people tend to call it by its more common name. Metallic Lightning. One with the power of lightning like yourself can control it like lightning."


    Eyeing him suspiciously, I pulled Storm Thief from its sheathe and withdrew a little bit of energy from the stolen tempests within. A small amount, it was, and yet a surge of energy leaped out to the surroundings, forcing me to tame it before I dared let the weapon go.


    "Huh." I laughed in dismay at my axe, zipping around at the behest of my whimsical finger. "I''ve had this weapon for years and I''ve never done more than swing or throw it." I laughed again, making a gesture with my finger to send it crashing into the snow, then back to my hand.


    "Even so." Mack waved his way through the smoke. "It shouldn''t be that powerful. You said its name was Storm Thief? How much energy is stored in there?"


    "Yeah." I sighed distantly. I always felt it was a paradox of my character. That a child of the tempest from a land of perpetual winter would have a love for open skies and sunny days. That such love led me to steal any and every thunderstorm I came across. That such a habit would yield such concentrated power. That such power would combine with affinity cores of Gas, Combustion, and Weight to form unyielding strength. That was something I never considered. I thought it to be a paradox. A flaw. A contradiction of my persona until I learned of the type of tempest I could become as Amun''s knight.


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    "I''m about to find out." I returned a grin to Mack as I gripped Storm Thief tightly. "And, as thanks for the advice, I''ll show you something interesting upon my return."


    If Mack answered, it was after my ascension to the cloudless sky above. It was after I released the energy of a thousand supercells stolen largely from the tempestuous storms of northern Maru, covering the Reservation in a whirlwind of violent winds and furious lightning.


    The storm bloomed and spread by the second, darkening the skies in twelve provinces scattered between four countries and a mountain range. Tundras and grasslands and forests alike bloomed in the light of a hundred simultaneous bolts, giving any present witnesses unbridled views of the tempestuous winds prying trees from the ground and upturning boulders to swarm around the city of Korlu, safe within the eye of the storm.


    I allowed myself a moment of awe before I spread my focus over the Storm of Storms. Like a force of nature, my will latched onto it, tempering it before a lethal of mana surge arced through every cloud, jet stream, water droplet, and electron. With that killing blow, the Storm of Storms ceased its circular motion, dissipating into a cloud of thick mist and flickering sparks that were slowly fading into nothingness. But a final force of will, paired with a surge of mana sustained the Storm of Storms, even in death.


    The lingering mist of that Storm of Storms obeyed the force of my will like a dog coming to its master, clearing the skies to allow the blue expanse to shine through once more; forming a country-spanning domain of sparking but still wind around my pebble of a body, floating with my proud weapon raised to the heavens to channel my words, fueled with power. "This Tempest lives, dies, and lives on to serve the Eternal God-Emperor, Amun, the Divine Realm of Eotrom, the Eotrom Empire, and the Legio Noctis. This Tempest will be relentless and unyielding in your pursuits. In your direction, this Tempest follows unyieldingly, forever leading your Legions to smite the heretics who give nutrients for the Culture you so hate, so they may become righteous in undeath. Forever, this Tempest shall stand before the worthy, living as a spear of our God''s wrath, using the valiant dead as an impenetrable shield.


    "With my mind, body, spirit, and soul, I, Toril O''Connell, Storm Thief, swear upon this oath: the Oath of the Undying Tempest!"


    I made my declaration with the voice of thunder itself, bringing about a second, immensely stronger will to take hold of the storm. Like a great hand of seafoam green sparks, it pulled everything from my mana well, leaving me weary and exhausted, subjected to watch the vast domain of sparking wind merge with my mana and condense into an infinitesimally small point on my axe before it imploded, ejecting a chained dagger of multicolored metals. Blue. Red. Seafoam green. Purple. Black. Silver and gold. The chain was like a fiendish serpentine centipede, the way it coiled about my arm, burrowing into the skin and muscle to encircle my heart thrice and rest its fangs atop the beating flesh, releasing a drip of venom that blasted the surroundings away at supersonic speeds, leaving only darkness. Darkness and the visage of an electrical reaper donned in the armor of a hooded knight.


    Then there was blue. Skies and clouds were all around me while the Storm Thief sparked with energy before me, and changed. A great leafless tree was now embroidered on its head, studded with many enchantments, and imbued with rich power. Foul, deathly power.


    Before or after I grasped onto that spike-handled axe, I felt cold for the first time in my life. My lightning. My spirit itself grew colder than the Plane of Shadows as those familiar words of mana formed in my field of view. Informing me of what I already knew. Of my new nature. Of my new abilities.


    Like Luce, I returned to Mack as a different being entirely. No longer a mortal was Lucia Pike, but a Celestial. The Eternal Champion''s Imperial Valkyrie. No longer was I, Toril O''Connell, a mortal, but an undying proxy of Amun. A Demigod in the making. The first of us future Imperators. A demigod only because of the divine power bestowed upon me by Amun. More power than would have been granted from my oath. Power that he willingly loaned to me and power that he could rescind at any time. A power that was already split between his clergy, his clerics, and the beginnings of his troupe. Yet, due to his connection with the creator, he had more to spare.


    If there were any changes to our appearance, it stole the words from his mouth. As did whatever power leaking from our frames left his lower jaw dangling. Even while the four of us entered the stables to carve magic circles into the stone tiles, he stared and only moved once the portals began opening.


    Issac. Quinn. Lucia. Me. Four portals opened before each of us, appearing one after another to bleed otherworldly energy into the crisp air, breaking the silence with echoing screeches and neighs. From Issac''s portal appeared a sharp talon that was nearly as large as he was. A plumed leg of vibrant blue and white feathers followed, trailed by another leg before a bowed chest of similarly covered feathers puffed out and compressed to belch powerful squawks through the rift. I began to look away just when the head appeared, giving me a late reaction to the deathly presence. It by all rights looked like a colorful bird. Except of course the animated deer skull that seemed to replace its face. It even had the massive fucking horns, entangled with equal parts brambles and flowers.


    A telltale screech came from Quinn''s portal came next, making him approach it anxiously and even beam wide once a pair of talons came stepping out. The sharp eyes and curved beak of an eagle followed, making me believe Amun got him a mount as well until I saw the hind quarters, hoofed like that of a horse.


    "A Hippogriff." Mack finally managed to say from his post in the riding pen. "And that there is a Peryton." He told Issac. "From the way it feels, both appear to be Fae, which summoned mounts usually are."


    Just like before, anxious eyes fell on me and my portal. But they soon began flickering towards Lucia''s. As did everyone else''s, including mine, for her portal was the only one to emit the neighs of a horse. And, being a Valkyrie, we all more or less hoped to see one creature in particular.


    Horns may as well have been playing when it stepped through, for it was that glorious. Its coat of fur and feathers seemed white but reflected silvery blue and gold as its ropy muscles shifted and bulged under the graceful sway of its motions. Like a savvy dog, it approached Lucia with reins clutched in its teeth. Almost as if were desperate for her to ride, it nudged into her awed being impatiently until she took the reigns and climbed upon her saddle.


    Watching that Pegasus take flight, I nearly forgot about my portal entirely. It remained in the back of my mind for moments until a telltale crack of electricity pulled at my ear. No talons or plumed legs were stepping from my portal, however. Only the perpetual tempest of my world in Eotrom sat beyond that threshold of energy. But somewhere out there, I knew my boy was watching. Alone and eagerly waiting for my call.


    I wouldn''t keep him waiting.


    "Thor!"


    He arrived with not a step or screech but with a crash of lightning and thunder that zipped across the stables, passing dangerously close to Quinn''s hippogriff before I called him to me in a flash of glory.


    A beak of cobalt blue opened and closed excitedly as I reached toward him to admire and scratch the snow-white feathers surrounding his head. "They are not food," I told him, receiving a scratch of a talon across the ground in response. In return, I growled, poking my finger into his hide as a warning. "You have plenty of horses to eat! If you are good¡­" I sighed. "I''ll¡­ I may find a way to get some hippogriffs for you to eat. In time."


    A crackling field of electrical energy danced across his midnight-blue feathers and fur in reluctant agreement.


    "Good boy." A firm pat sealed the deal, giving me leeway to check Thor''s saddle and mount him, and only then did I turn to Mack''s awed expression. "Ah, yes. This is Thor." I declared, rearing the great creature onto his hind legs to display his great wings before they came crashing down like thunder. "My Tempest Griffon."

 277 - Vulcanox

    Elurial.


    29th of Ianua, 1492.


    Southern Kasian Mountains.


    6:19 PM.


    ***


    I couldn''t help but think this was bullshit. My troops were out there in the snow among the beasts and mounted bandits, with my fucking truck, and here I was, in a cave, bundled up close to some hot rocks with a brooding giant of a woman. She looked up a few times in the¡­ however long we were here- I refused to look at the time and get even more pissed- but this time, the grim expression was missing from her face as she turned her eyes up to the stone again.


    "Finally." She stood with a sigh. "Toril''s done."


    That was it. That was all she said before she stepped deeper into the cave to use her crazy magic to barrel through the dead end.


    She didn''t even cool it down for me.


    "You''re lucky I''m half-human." I gasped through the smoke after blowing my way through with air, then silently thanked Amun for the lessons in elemental manipulation.


    "I''m surprised you''re with me and not Opal." Roheisa quipped.


    ''Finally, some words!'' I thought, uncaring if they were meant to poke fun at me.


    "Do you like her?" She asked.


    "Like is a strong word. Attracted is the one. I can''t help but be attracted to strong women." I shrugged. "I hear Amun shares the same trait."


    "You can add aloof Vampyr to that list."


    "Gyahahaha! Is that jealousy I hear?"


    "Hardly." Roheisa scoffed. "Just an observation."


    "My opinion..." I began and received a quick, ''no.'' But pressed on anyway. "Opposites attract and all that. But more importantly, she''s broken, just like he is. He has a soft spot for the downtrodden."


    Roheisa rolled her eyes. "What do you know?"


    "I know Amun saw some scary shit in his past life!" I stomped forward. "And, honestly, I don''t think he''s found a way to cope with it all. I think it''s contained under lock and key. Zakira has gone through some scary shit in this life. She''s been hunted like a monster for years. Alone, in the Nonusian Darkworld and on the surface for years. She definitely hasn''t found a way to cope with it all, so I can give her some slack if she wants to act aloof.


    "You, on the other hand." I scoffed. "What do you know?"


    She halted mid-step, leading me to believe she was actually going to respond in a meaningful way. But alas... "I know that it''s time for you to walk away."


    I felt my lips rise into a snarl as she began to strip. Roheisa was a literal woman of steel. But even if she were half-orc she would''ve been large for someone her age. Not that I gave a shit. I waltzed right up to her and looked up into her dead little eyes. "You''ve got a real shitty attitude, you know that?"


    Ignoring me entirely, the bitch sidestepped me to wade into the magma pool. "I won''t be responsible for what happens to you after," she murmured in passing.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "You never fucking were!" I spat back. "Amun is! And I won''t be dying without his permission!"


    "Your faith in him is strong."


    I recoiled at once and shook my head in disappointment. More, in pain. "Yours isn''t?"


    "I am not a pious person," she said, to some surprise. Then remained silent for a few curious moments. "But Amun is family. My trust in him is unbreakable, and trust is another form of faith."


    "Then you understand that I''m free to do as I please." I proudly huffed. "I''ll stay here and watch the iron volcano erupt as much as I damn well want!"


    "This isn''t just an iron volcano," she said flatly. Then turned and waded into the lava pool. "It''s a Vulcan Heart."


    I rolled my eyes in annoyance. By this point, I was done with names and nearly done with her. Although I still gave her some privacy by using the grace of twilight to slip into the shadows. When I turned back I saw her waist deep in magma, heating the dull-gray colorations of her magically infused skin to a bright orange. With a great heave, she blew a gust of air onto the bubbling surface, hardening a plate of igneous rock before she lifted an open palm and brought it down with a hard smack.


    "Come out!" She smacked the hardened surface once and then twice more. "I know you''re in there!"


    Over and over, she kept smacking until eventually, an earth-shattering growl responded with a threat to collapse the mountain around us. I believed it to be an earthquake until a pair of bright orange horns breached the surface. Then, I watched in morbid fascination as a beast covered in obsidian-like plates of matted fur rose from the glowing pool to take on the form of some type of weird water buffalo.


    A spitting noise pulled my eyes to Roheisa just as a chunk of hot steel pelted the creature''s side. Then it turned its red, beady, malice-fueled eyes towards the giant of a woman. Its curved horns dipped dangerously low, sinking into the cloud of volatile gasses streaming from its nostrils as it pawed its iron hooves into the pool.


    Undeterred, Roheisa did the same. Coupled with a few more globs of simmering magma for good measure. "This heart is mine!" She snarled.


    There were no signs to precede the charge. All I saw was a wave of hot magma rise to splatter against the ceiling before a shockwave blew the orange wall apart. I dipped behind cover and emerged a second later to see Roheisa''s arm hooked around the creature''s horn before it thrashed against the walls and into the magma, attempting to drown her, the volcanic princess.


    Up and down, Roheisa lifted her steel-imbued arms and pummeled them into the creature repeatedly, filling the cavern with the sounds of sloshing lava and feral screams that left me hot and on the verge of losing myself to my fury as the magnificent display of power reached its climax.


    With an animalistic roar, Roheisa punched through the beast''s thick hide and began fishing. With another scream, she withdrew an orange fleshy mass clenched tightly in her fist and screamed again, bringing a sharpened edge of a steel arm down on the creature''s neck. Thus ending the battle gloriously.


    Still growling with effort, Roheisa crouched, pulling her hands towards her mouth to begin gnawing and tearing at the heart like a feral beast until all that remained were crumbs to simmer atop her flesh. Then, she grabbed the head.


    Screams- feral, blood-curdling screams echoed through the cavern soon after she pulled the decapitated head on like a hood. She began thrashing, throwing lava and steel everywhere as the head solidified into a solid obsidian helm; and dissolved, burned away into a cloud of ashes and soot to reveal those same glowing orange horns, swept forward from a steel-gray helm streaked with veins of lava and crystalline hair, and hateful red eyes that stared embers into my soul


    In other words, it was my cue to rage. But not with my own.


    Not this time.


    "Amun." I began. "You share everything else. So, how about you unlock that tower and share a little rage?"


    Just as Roheisa''s horned helm bent low, a mote of darkness surrounded by golden light drifted from above. I reached out for it as if it were my lifeline and grasped it tightly; right before Roheisa rammed through me.


    Like a minotaur of molten rock, crystal, and steel, Roheisa charged through me and the stone I was standing in front of without a hint of her momentum stopping, using my body as a cave sweeper until she emerged in the snow to fling me off her horns, sending me tumbling down the mountain helplessly.


    It felt like I hit every part of my body by the time I landed. Breathing felt like being stabbed by a thousand rusty knives, and I was so¡­ cold. So¡­ unnervingly calm, lying there on that dreary mountain; feeling the warm embrace of the setting sun glide across my skin.


    "A...mun." I heard my words as a distant gurgle and somehow formed a single thought regarding my disbelief of him being able to fight in this state. "I... know y- ou... won''t... let- me... die."


    I heard myself say it, even as the darkness clouded my vision. But I never stopped believing, for a gilded horizon could be seen beyond that wall of black. And it beckoned to me.

 278 - Zeal

    Elurial.


    ***


    "I warn you, Elurial. My source of rage can break your spirit, for it is a creature without substance, and yet, it is a being of infinite faces. A parasite of mind and culture alike."


    With those words reverberating through my soul, I felt the presence of something special watching over me as I awoke in that realm of twilight, seeing strange visions within those vibrant clouds above. Or¡­ no. I felt as if I were watching over someone and yet looking through their eyes at the same time.


    I was experiencing, I realized after some time, a memory that wasn''t mine¡ªtrapped between myself and what I could only assume was Amun as I lived through that horrid experience, one filled with so much pain, hunger, fear, and trauma. One that birthed a furious rage that lasted for decades.


    Two dozen years passed in the blink of an eye. A million meals of crumbs and a hundred pairs of tattered, oversized clothes were eaten and worn in a million different ways, yielding the same frustrating taste for years upon years upon years in that destructive society I witnessed. A society in which there were little prospects other than a life of crime, military service, or labor until the day one dropped dead.


    It was a horrific place that I saw. A cramped place, far unlike the Mortal Plane, that contained no creatures other than humans, their livestock, and wild animals. It held no powers other than technology, knowledge, wisdom, wealth, and physical prowess, yet it contained all the injustices of the Mortal Plane, sometimes in excess.


    I saw pot-bellied world leaders, degenerate celebrities, and overpaid athletes living in secured palaces while others starved at their gates. Praised not were the¡­ scientists and engineers, they were called, nor the inventors and other people who devoted themselves to making their lives more livable, to increasing their quality of life, to making commoners live like the kings of our realms. They were nameless. Even worse were those on the far side of that small rock who had their forests burned and their houses destroyed by those employed by those in power. I saw people kept poor and deprived so people in places they''d never seen could live in squalor. I saw people subtly forced into a state of desperation, giving them no choice but to fuel the fires of their demise.


    I saw what Amun called the Culture, and it disgusted me. Of course, I''d seen such things here, on the Mortal Plane, but on a world so small, one would think any intelligent species would do their damnest to not starve the world out of existence, but no. The creatures in that world were like parasites, consuming, killing, pillaging, and destroying anything that existed just to claim the few remaining metal and oil deposits or corners of arable lands for themselves, and if they couldn''t claim them to make their fancy trinkets, build their palaces, or fatten their bellies, they employed their horrific bombs, explosive rocks, and booming clubs to leave the land uninhabitable and useless for decades to come. It was like no one wanted to find a solution to the problems they faced. Other than to slaughter each other.


    Despite being the same species as the humans I called friends, there was no sense of community in that world that we saw here. There were only tribes that seemed all too eager to slay one another for any reason they could imagine. Differences in skin tone, religious beliefs, or political doctrines. Even such frivolous things as preferred diets, place of birth, sexual orientation, titles, pronouns, or honorifics; seemingly everything was used as an agent for hate and destruction against their fellow humans. Worse, they often did those things and thought themselves to be superior to the so-called enemies, even after the fact.


    I felt sickened just being there. But my disgust grew tenfold when I realized, somewhere in that hellscape of a world, Amun had lived. He''d been trapped somewhere in the center of that spectrum. Nothing close to rich but not dirt poor either. Neither starving nor satiated. Worse, he had the intellect to understand what could have been. Thus when he saw what was and realized what little he could do to change it, he wanted to leave. He wanted to die, yet he couldn''t bring himself to, leaving nothing within him except resentment.


    Hate.


    He hated everything he saw for years upon years. He hated the fact that he had no choice but to become a part of the problem and to turn to a life of crime or military service if he even hoped to do anything for himself, let alone his people. He hated the fact that the only way out of the gravity prison of poverty he was born in was to become a monster that had the power to climb out on its own. And so, he did. But he hated it. And so, he hated himself.


    He joined the private military of the most powerful organization in his country- some... Corporate States- and was fed more, educated better, and trained to kill with the highest efficiency one could attain in that world without magic, just like us, albeit with magic. Unlike us, he was no longer free, and that was what he despised more than anything. He despised it more than he despised having to put his life on the line just to afford a comfortable life in the years to come, for he was now one of those dogs sent to the other side of that small rock on which they lived.


    It was there, where Amun faced the first worst day of his life. And so it was there, where I, living through the memories of my God, experienced a new way to rage.


    He was sent to some rainforest where it was muggy and thick to fight a battle that was surprisingly just. A group of terrorists, as they were called, bombed a city in an attempt to assassinate several important people. Thus Amun- I went to war. The war, not the battle, was the unjust part. The last mad dash for resources on their prison of gravity. There were years of it until I experienced the day that broke Amun.


    It happened on the outskirts of some city. Six men and women, including me, were cramped in a lumbering truck of armored steel. A relatively peaceful night, it was. Until it wasn''t. A titan of destruction shocked my senses away in a heartbeat, reducing my reality to scattered light, dust, and fire, then an opaque swathe of beige that almost seemed to be the source of the incessant ringing in my ears, muffling every sound except the amplified racing of my heart and the echoes of my breath.


    Fearful, dazed, and confused, I swayed along with Amun''s field of view as mangled bits of metal and flesh cleared through the smoke. I felt¡­ wet, but not with sweat, and that made me nearly panic. I looked around, forcing deep breaths through my lungs while I searched for the men and women who were just next to me. But alas, they were simply¡­ gone. Reduced to a smoldering pile of debris and bits. Others were ducking and running from the sound of loud cracks and large wasps buzzing nearby, but all that was seen were sparks and bits of metal or stone shattering before my eyes. Or, on one occasion, throwing one of my companions to the ground in a painful cry.


    I felt so many things at that moment. Fear. Helplessness. Denial. Sorrow. Despair.


    Rage.


    Through it all, Amun managed to compose himself, rise, and join them in their noble cause of pulling their wounded to safety. It was not unlike an orc''s berserker state, how he channeled those primal feelings into his adrenaline with a feral scream to surge forward. Despite a few of them being dead or dying, they dragged their fellow bodies and pulled the triggers on their booming clubs to cover their exit. They moved systematically from cover to cover, just as Amun taught us to evade incoming spells, darting from tree to rock to tree with the other fired at people they couldn''t see through the thick brush, and then they moved, trusting in their partners to cover them in turn.


    The fighting lowered in intensity as they gained their distance from the chaos. Still, though, another fell. And when yet another fell, Amun and the last remaining soldier had a choice to make.


    Noble or stupid, honorable or dishonorable, I had no right to say if their decision was either one. I could only say that I would''ve done the same. From what I saw of his memories, though, Amun never tried to distinguish which of the two his actions fell into. He simply weighed the options and made a choice, then accepted the outcome. That choice was to destroy their gear to prevent the enemy from getting their hands on it, should they be killed. Moreover, they decided to give their comrades a proper burial. But, being in a warzone, there was no time to dig holes.


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    I felt some sense of hope build within Amun as he and his partner took off their gear. It was heavy, so its weight was a relief in itself, giving him a beacon to set his sights on, a thought that he might survive this ordeal given enough maneuverability. But then, I felt sickened once the thought of living with these memories surfaced. Then, I felt like a hypocrite, for a thought that seemed ingrained into my mind crept forth, yet I acted vehemently against it.


    Amun wanted to die, I remembered. He was¡­ suicidal, but for some reason never tried. He wanted to die, desperately so. But hope- hope and a pipe dream and perhaps something more forced him to live on. It forced him to go back out into that hell to drag the corpses of his friends to their burial pyre, a mere mound of firewood and hay contained in the back of some farm.


    One by one, they went, trading places until the blood of the last man stained his clothes. Then his world shattered.


    "PUT IT DOWN!"


    "No..." I felt a weak mutter escape my lips as the cold grip of a thousand hands took hold of my heart and pulled. Losing all sense, I dropped the body and ran with my weapon raised high, desperate to get to my last best friend. Only for my heart to shatter once I cleared the brush.


    Comedy and tragedy. That''s what I came face to face with. My friend, wide-eyed and pale-faced, pointed his rifle down at a little girl who couldn''t have been older than eight. In the girl''s hands, a ''shotgun'' pulled from the dead pile, pointed right at my friend''s head, and¡­ she was... smiling. Laughing with tears streaming down her face, born from half amusement, half unbridled rage.


    It all happened so fast. A step. That was all it took for my friend''s head to balloon into a cloud of red mist. That was all it took for my mind to be painted with a permanent pink cloud and that fucking smile. To plague my ears with a concussive slap that would send my nerves awry. To leave the wet warmth of a ghost on my skin for the rest of my days.


    That was all it took for my body to twitch.


    It all happened so fast. A twitch. That was all it took for that child''s sternum to be thrown back and opened on the backside in a show of gore. That was all it took for my soul to be tainted, tormented, and plagued forevermore by a bout of silence that stretched infinitely as my eyes traveled an equal distance to gaze upon an unrecognizable form; a body without a head that could only be verified as my friend by a scrap of imprinted metal stuck between the laces of his boot, only ceasing at the behest of a haunting laugh that saw my mind snap to a girl of tan skin, brown hair, and vibrant blue eyes covered in blood, clutching at a sucking chest wound while she cursed my nameless visage with her dying breath.


    Years. For what felt like years, I was trapped in that moment. I keeled over - no, I collapsed, feeling as if every organ and bone in my body was erupting from my mouth like a great volcano of searing blades. I heaved and hurled bile and blood into the mud for what felt like hours as I sobbed. Cried in despair and anguish and sorrow until the tears turned to blood and the blood dried to dust. Burning, raging dust.


    There, on the cold ground of that distant jungle, just like Amun, I poured out nearly every emotion I had until only a few things remained. Hate was not among them. We- me or Amun, could not hate her, for, just like us, she was attacking her enemy. We were no different than the terrorists who attacked our country. We were all forced into being what this cruel deathworld required of us to thrive.


    Rage was among them, but it was paired with despair, at first. Despair birthed from the knowledge that, no matter what was done, the world would not change. Humanity would not change. The Culture that consumed ever more would not be defeated, and so, that knowledge was used as a temper for rage, to be stockpiled and reserved- contained under lock and key in a lightless dungeon of tungsten, only to be released for the inevitable or the uncertain.


    Only to be released for the Culture that drove us to our living deaths.


    There was no use thrashing about angrily as we gathered the corpses and gear into a pile. There was no use cursing names or even the Culture itself as we released a pin from a crimson canister and threw it on the pile. There was no use offering feral screams or songs of retribution to some fantasy warrior god as the great flame burned the bodies to ash and melted the equipment to slag. The Culture would not yield to such paltry offerings, and there were no gods of that world to care for the souls of mortals. The only thing we could do was what had already been done- to take our despair and use it as a temper for this rage, simmering deep within this mortal shell.


    That temper made for a level-headed berserker''s state, a silent rage, one that pushed me to look around my environment in search of answers rather than take off in an aimless search for blood. Ash and slag. A hand axe. A knife. Mud and blood. Drugs.


    Each sight served as fuel for the fires of rage, yet the temper yielded ideas, and those ideas yielded tools and tactics that would benefit this burning rage. Ash to conceal my scent from beasts. Slag rocks to make distractions or impromptu weapons. Blades to use in close quarters. Camouflage. Amphetamines. Coffee. Cocaine.


    We fought more beasts than men in that deathworld of divine violence. High off a cocktail of drugs and adrenaline and seething with rage, we sprinted through the dark jungle, uncaring if the big cats or water beasts sought to ambush or chase us, unseeing the short cliffs, ravines, and drop-offs until we were sprawled out across the ground, scrambling to return to our sprained feet. Never fearing while we evaded the bangs and flashing lights and shouts in the distance.


    I forgot who I was, up until the time we returned. I was Elurial, a half-high orc and founding member of the Legio Noctis, living through a memory that belonged to my Guild Master, Emperor, and God. I only realized that after being forced to feel through the similarities, if only to see the disparity between¡­ everything.


    Our bodies both shook from residual adrenalin, but mine shook from fear, awe, sorrow, and despair. Our hearts both murmured and fluttered, but where his was from the drugs, mine was from shock. I both worried about and yearned for the support of my distant peers as they approached from the base to give aid; Amun didn''t want to see them. I worried if I''d ever recover from the many lacerations, grazing shots, punctures, fractures, sprains, hyperextended joints, swollen wrists, broken ribs, bites, stings, and most importantly, mental trauma. Even the ears were mangled, the left being cut by¡­ something and a piece of the right being shot off by either a bullet or ricochet.


    The only thing Amun was worried about, he voiced in the form of a demand to his peers. "Give me a fucking smoke."


    The last solid memory I was given was through Amun''s eyes, who received a smoke from his peer. They wore black spectacles to counter the coming dawn, giving Amun a clear look at his crudely pointed ears, his tearful, reddened eyes, and the thick veins bulging from his blood and mud-caked neck and brow. How sad they looked, when Amun focused on their glasses. How horrible, Amun felt after what they said.


    "Damn, dude. You look like a fuckin'' devil."


    Many more years passed by after those words. All in the blink of an eye. Yet, the word was repeated a thousand times over in a fraction of the time.


    Devil.


    Devil.


    Devil.


    Devil.


    Devil.


    Devil.


    In one way or another, Amun looked like a devil when he came back. As drinking was detrimental to his depression and mental health, plus he didn''t like the feeling, he smoked almost constantly, giving him the same red eyes he returned to base with.


    In one way or another, Amun acted like a devil before he came back. Whatever the rumors surrounding the now-broken Amun, there seemed to be a common opinion among his peers. He died over there. Since then, he fought like a devil. He laughed in the face of death as only a devil could, leaping into its embrace in a furious state of desperation. Only to be shunned. He wanted to die. But¡­ he was a hypocrite. A contradiction. The pipe dream of ending the Culture remained, and so, he fought on until the devil went home and took up other things to occupy his time.


    For the rest of my days, it would serve to be the most heart-breaking, terrifying, gut-wrenching, and yet awe-inspiring account me and my subordinates would come to witness. Such trauma, helplessness, weakness, and despair were things I''ve rarely felt and would rarely feel in even a dozen lifetimes due to what He has done for Us, and yet never to such a degree as he, the one who lived for nearly a century in a half in that universe, so deadly and so without magic.


    More importantly, that memory catalyzed both my personal growth and my spiritual devotion. I had always wondered how Amun seemed so aloof and uncaring about nearly everything. Almost impossible to anger, I assumed he was. But in those bottled memories, I saw the heart of his ire, born in a universe outside of our own, and by seeing those memories, that ire- that tempered rage, had been passed on to me.


    He made himself vulnerable. And so, I felt him. All that Opal said about him, all I''d seen of him, I felt it develop throughout both of his lifetimes. The unmerciful malice paired with a good heart. His skill in battle and warfare coupled with his insistence on peace and prosperity. His love of exploration, discovery, creation, and partying- of life; his obsession with death that wound up not being a result of his sorcery after all. I understood how he came to master something he could hate so much. War. Most importantly, I understood his reluctance to protect people with his hands, no matter how strong he would become.


    Amun was a God, I truly believed that now. But it went far beyond that. He was my God. One that I knew on a personal level, and I was one of his blessed chosen. One who was untethered from the bonds of life and death.


    One whose fervid rage burned with silence.

 279 - Stories and Games

    The Owl.


    30th of Ianua, 1492.


    The Rharian, Kasian, Chaulort Tri-Point. Archie''s Hut, Basement Level.


    07:50.


    ***


    All stories must end. The realms over knew that as a cardinal rule. The unspoken rule, however, was that stories, to be great, must have lessons to learn.


    Robin Morgan stated, ''Knowledge is power. Information is power. The secreting or hoarding of knowledge or information may be an act of tyranny, camouflaged as humility.''


    Archibald Weisenheimer was no exception to either the rule or the quote. Hoarding, Archie was, keeping knowledge that could spur a medical revolution to himself. Hiding his data, Archie was, even from the Owl. But of course, it was to be expected, for one such as Archie, so¡­ entitled to greatness, could not stand being denied the chance to put his flair on his benefactor''s designs. And so, he did. In secret. And so, the Owl, after not so much time waiting, went to work.


    A human who''d made a bargain for his legs to be regrown soon found a few doors uncannily left ajar. That was the only prelude to the story. It began slow, with the fortunate man running out of the hut and running to the hills as far as his new legs could take him- which wound up being quite far indeed. Yet, he still stopped. Not for rest as one would normally need. But to throw warnings to the winds about the cruel witch in the tri-point, experimenting on people.


    He saw it! With his own eyes, he saw it! Orcs and goblins and humans and elves. Every creature one could think of, he saw them being tortured with strange contraptions, given strange potions, and experimented with daily. It was a sheer violation of all things just and moral within and far outside the boundaries of the Witch community. The only justifiable retaliation was the complete destruction of this abominable practice.


    Moreover, it warranted overkill.


    Recruiting a party for the cause was almost effortless. His wails rallied 3,309 soldiers, militia, and angry witches from Chaulort in only a couple of days. Soon after, word of the plagues trickling about Rhar came filtering back and days later, they were joined by 4,672 Rharian rangers, soldiers, and druids; and of course, that attracted war band after war band from the Kasian Empire that wound up totaling just under 7,000; all rushing Archie''s Witch Hut for the same product.


    Blood.


    Of course, with him being occupied with his experiments, Archie didn''t take heed to the Owl''s warnings until it was too late.


    As was above, so was below; as was below, so was above. That, everyone knew, but what often went ignored was the essence that lay between the two extremes. The rim. The border. The edge. The line set between all things of a dual nature.


    Orcs. Goblins. Elves. Gnomes. Dwarves. Halflings. Humans. Striflings. Those species and more attacked the hut and its witches on the surface with clubs, numbers, magic, ballistae, hammers, bolts, and blades beneath a heroic song while those below beckoned their experiments to fight in their stead.


    Deeper below, however, was Corym''s present to Amun. The party of devoted unicorn lovers who, in their sense of entitlement, saw fit to self-destruct like cowards rather than be killed and raised as undead like everyone else. They had been sprinkled with a few odds and ends to add a little razzle-dazzle to their suspended combustion before being transported here, where they were waiting for the coveted moment of their release.


    "What do we do?" Archie frantically paced and continued as such when the Owl appeared.


    "Alacrity unchecked has blinded you to the Owl''s words, Archibald." He paused as the words left the Owl''s beak to offer a face of betrayal. "You have not listened to my and your associate''s repeated mentions of the failsafe."


    "Ah!" He breathed in relief, shuffling about on his feet for his demise. "Where is it, again?"


    "The head-"


    "My bust! Got it!"


    I needn''t follow him as he rushed through the compound, not even seeing the many witches and patients rushing about as he made his way to his office in the underground quarters. I could see it just as clearly as if I were perched atop his shoulders. Archie slid on his knees to halt himself before his office. So eager was he, that he slid past the door and scrambled inside, nearly toppling the bust over so that he could stare into his likeness and suffer a dark laser reading the contents of his soul.


    As above, so below.


    From the perspective of those like Amun, on the far side of the mountains to the north, they would see only the rising sun blinking in and out of existence. Depending on their distance, they would feel anything from a deep groan of the earth to an ear-shattering shockwave. Those from Brybs, Chaulort, Kasia, and Rhar, however, were blinded by a real second sun, rising and growing to mirror the ball of fire peering above the Mortal Plane. Those attacking the Hut saw a bright light before they just¡­ vanished. Those further beyond saw a pillar of fire tear a blanket of earth from the bedrock before they too were reduced to scattered debris. Those as far away as the Chaulort Capital or the Sacred Forests of Rhar saw a great mushroom of fire and smoke rise above the land before the winds swept them off their feet and the sound deafened their ears; or, in some lucky cases, struck arcane barriers or other protective wards.


    Perhaps the most impressive view, however, came from the hot springs not too far away. Anyone there with a particularly keen eye would have witnessed two flashes of light. A burst of silver came before the fire to bless their structure, protecting it from damage. meanwhile, a flash of gold made everything seem less... tainted.


    The Owl, on the other hand, saw souls. 15,090 souls swarming around like water swirling down the drain that was the [Cursed Well.]


    Not even charred bits remained from the results of the pact insidious formed with Archie. No radiation, lingering death, or even a mana signature littered ground zero either. All that was left was a vastly wide and immensely deep pit that would first fill with snow and compact with ice before the same processes in the hot springs turned it into another tourist destination.


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    With the completion of this phase of the Owl''s work came the coveted moment. With a final look around to ensure all was well, the Owl departed to the Shadow Realm to sort through the souls before the arcane words appeared to detail the perks of the evolution.


    A twofer, as Amun would say.


    The souls, however, took precedence, as only a fraction of them- a few thousand at most, were bargained with and added to the Cursed Well. Thus leaving thousands to be infused into Lore Skulls and Satellites or some other thing.


    It took only seconds, indeed, but such volatile things shouldn''t be left to fester, and I finished just in time to see the gold-lined black letters write themselves into reality. Thus, after conducting the summing ritual to reunite with Archie, the spine devil, my immediate goals in this region were complete.


    ---


    [Rogue Devil, Soul Mastermind: Step 4, Devil''s Intrigue - Task Complete.]


    [Reward: Passive Skill - [Wicked Assist] From a distance of 30 meters, assisting a comrade in battle will force Cursed Mana into the target, making the assisted attack more effective.]


    [Reward: Passive Skill - [Wicked Mind] Cursed Mana has taken root in your mind, making it impossible for others to use magic to intrude upon your thoughts, charm you, compel you to tell the truth, or determine if you are lying; unless you allow it. Through a force of Cursed Mana, so too can you present nightmares or false images to the intruder''s thoughts.]


    [Reward: Active Skill - [Devil''s Disguise] With Cursed Mana, you can disguise yourself or any fiend into any humanoid or fiend that you''ve ever seen.]


    [Rogue Devil, Soul Mastermind: Step 5, The Network - To continue down the path to Unbranding yourself, you must build a fiendish intelligence network to facilitate the formation of your deals.]


    Three perks that yielded no pain and more or less useful abilities. By far, both the Owl and Amun coveted [WIcked Assist] above all. For, with the budding Troupe, it would surely come in good use. [Wicked Mind] would also prevent a worse version of last year''s mid-year encounters from arising. Although, the Owl couldn''t help but imagine giving the Seven Stars of Polaris nightmare fuel in return for spying. [Devil''s Disguise] on the other hand, was another skill that would be used more for the team than for the Owl or Amun. We did not hide ourselves unless the mission called for it, after all, no matter how much our appearance was to change.


    As we had come to learn, the evolutions were painful. The Owl experienced it just as Amun did. The Owl saw the words just as Amun did. The Owl''s body was shrouded in an egg of darkness, just as Amun''s was. For hours. Minutes. Days, it felt like. Changing. Morphing. Feeling our bodies be crushed and condensed into new forms; screaming from our teeth being pulled from our gums; bowling over from the pain in our bellies until¡­ it faded, and we were born anew.


    And so came the next task: Casting Fiendish Familiar over, and over, and over again. Only, now with assistance from our second devil, Archie.


    ***


    Amun.


    1st of Duotra (2nd month), 1492.


    El-Did Province, Shujen Kingdoms.


    8:25 AM.


    [Prestige Void Sorcerer, The Path of Zefroth: Step 2, The Flesh - Task Complete.]


    [Reward: Evolution - [Void Devil''s Stomach.] With the stomach of the Void Devil, you can eat and digest both souls and decaying flesh to restore your health and empower yourself, much like a demon does with emotional energy; with carrion having the greatest effect.]


    [Reward: Evolution - [Void Devil''s Jaws.] The Jaws of the Void Devil are made not for flesh but for souls, sinking into and ripping either a piece of or the entire soul from the host, allowing them to be ingested into the Void Devil''s Stomach or Cursed Well without the need for deals.]


    [Reward: Transformation - [Void Imp Consular.]


    [The Path of Zefroth: Step 3, The Mind - To continue down the Path of Zefroth, you must learn from your Fiendish Familiars, the innate art of infecting the minds of mortals with nightmares, then use your newfound knowledge to corrupt a devil''s dozen mortal souls.]


    ***


    "Why are you crying?"


    "Ah!" I looked away, hurriedly wiping my eyes. "Just remembering some old friends." I breathed heavily. Far too late.


    By the time I could turn, Iris had already walked forward to lean against my leg in the way that children often did, looking down as she fiddled with her hands. "You can''t bring them back like Auntie Lana?"


    ''Ah, kids.'' I sobbed internally, fighting back the memories that surged and surged since they were unveiled to Elurial and increased tenfold as I looked into Iris'' vibrant blue eyes. "Not these ones, I''m afraid." I smiled weakly at her.


    She wrapped her arms around me as tightly as she could, which was pretty up there, releasing the cap on my bottle of pain if only a little. "Don''t be sad. I''m sure it makes them sad too."


    "You''re right." I stifled a laugh and hugged her back. "Thank you, Iris." I smiled wide after she pulled away, then turned to grab a box from my shadow with renewed vigor. "We''ll be at our destination by nightfall," I said, placing the box between us. "So, how about we play a game?"


    She bounced up and down in agreement and sat cross-legged opposite from me. "Oh yeah." She suddenly said, pointing up. "What happened to your hair?"


    Stress and trauma, I wanted to say. But instead, I just leaned forward and smiled, allowing my snow-white locks to dangle over the table as I grinned. "I evolved. Sort of like you. See?" I took my fingers and hooked them in my mouth to force a clown smile, showing the pointed teeth that grew from the [Void Devil''s Jaws.]


    "Woah!" she gasped and quite possibly began designing new teeth for herself. But I stole her attention before she could speak on it further by placing a small snow-globe-like object on the table. A globe that produced a holographic 9x9x9 grid filled with many labeled shapes and icons.


    "It''s called Space Go," I told her excitedly, for it was indeed one of the most popular games in the Asian and Middle Eastern-influenced Saturnian Empire. But of course, this version had its differences. "As you can see, each player gets three sets of pieces. One for military units, one for civilian properties, and one for logistical assets. Each has its strengths and weaknesses and can interact with the others in various ways. Here are the rules."


    Her eyes lit up as the information traveled through the Net and within seconds, she was as eager as I was to play, going as far as to set up the board before I could.


    It was a lesson imposed upon her for the future, sure. But it was also a bonding experience that I cherished greatly. While I adopted them for selfish reasons, as the days went by, I truly began looking at Iris as my actual daughter; I gave her my blood, after all, but it was the same Blude, Sam, and Redd being like my fucked up little cousins. Thus I was quickly becoming proud of everything they accomplished, no matter how small the deed was. Every perfect punch in training. Every fine cooked meal. Every successful heal or crafted thing.


    Every board move.


    "Hey, are we gonna train or- what the fuck?"


    "I''m surprised it took you this long." I snorted at Blude and her girls, frozen at the entrance to the cockpit before my words caught up to her. Then she shifted on her feet while looking away sheepishly.


    "I was busy." She murmured, approaching to yank and pull on my lips to study my new teeth. "Is that gonna happen to us?"


    "No." I laughed, being careful not to bite her on accident. "But you three will be getting transformations."


    She hummed to herself and sat down near Sam and Redd, and for the next several hours, they watched and learned as Iris and I played, joined in for a bit, talked, ate, argued, and all the other things people did in such instances. It made me happy, knowing I was finally in a position- and in a world that allowed my morals to raise children. Albeit adopted children. But I would have children of my own someday in the far future as well. With Zakira, of course.


    Among¡­ others.


    However, this¡­ happiness also made me fearful. It made me paranoid about going through the pain of losing those I loved all over again. Necromancy or not. Eotrom or not. It was something I would not stand for. Thus, for better or for worse, on that night, as I sat around Iris, Blude, Sam, and Redd, I swore I would make them and everyone else who followed me- who loved me, just as unfuckwithable as I was.


    Including, depending on the circumstance, the one we were soon to meet.

 280 - Day D

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    My day of destiny was upon me.


    I was born in that foul pit of crimson webs for a sole reason: to be trained in the harsh light to fulfill this divine task; to be drilled in the Halls to become the finest head monk; to be instructed in the ancient tomes; to have centuries of knowledge and experience beaten into my being from the moment I was born up until these very moments for the sake of teaching him, Telin''s Champion.


    Days. Years. For a decade and more, I asked myself, ''Why? Why me, to live such a singular life? And what? What would happen come my destined day plus one?''


    They obsessed my mind, those questions. No matter how much I meditated, trained, and fought, I thought of them. I thought of Him, a being none of us had ever seen, and yet a being I''d been made to obsess over for every waking moment of my existence. Every feeling, every emotion was projected towards that faceless being, the Champion of Telin. Anger. Confusion. Sorrow. Joy. Even indifference. So much indifference. Then so much fear.


    It budded like a seed on the first of the year, sprouting concern. It pushed through the layers of snow and grew as the days turned to weeks, blooming frustration; and now, as¡­ signs began to appear, the petals of frustration wilted to fear. Then fell, utterly confused into that pit of emptiness that was enlightenment.


    The irony was not lost upon me, for enlightenment was something I found a year ago. Yet¡­


    "Nest."


    Such a simple word was spoken in the Common tongue but it may as well have been spoken by the forest itself. Predators and prey alike responded to the sound. Wolves trotted beside deer, tossing up a field of untouched snow with the enthusiasm of their steps. Rabbits thumped beneath swarms of moths, weaving between leafless trees and frosted brush. Even the silent masters of the night, the elegant owls, screeched and hooted as they flew deeper into the forest.


    Breathing, mantras, nothing worked to steady my heart. On the contrary, the drumming seemed to beat with more fervor as the songs of the forest died to a whisper. It boomed as the seconds went on until¡­ I saw movement.


    Deer. Ambling. Dipping their silvery antlers with each step. Steps made with such calmness I was forced to believe they were blind to the wolves trotting next to them; and the rabbits; and the moths; all escorting curiously larger- no, giant wolves, who in turn escorted¡­ children.


    Human... children.


    A million thoughts ran through my mind. The what, the how, and most importantly, the why in all the Hells were human children here. I thought them to be escaped slaves. Runaways far too lost. Polymorphed or disguised humans seeking a fight. Any and everything except for a drow walking among them.


    He walked in the middle of them, a curiosity in itself, but what was more curious was the amiable visage I saw after focusing on him. He was having¡­ small talk. With human children. Paying no mind to their endless annoyances.


    Looking at him closer made it clear that he was someone I had not met. Though he had a face to match one of ours, not that the same could have been said for his clothes. He wore sleeveless robes embroidered with a great leafless tree over the front. The Great Leafless Tree, I realized on closer inspection. Solid black with a radiance that shifted between silver and gold behind it. His greater piwa was feathered in its entirety, with the same Great Tree emblazoned on the brooch.


    Like any drow, his locks were white and again, adorned with a hairpin in the same shape as the mark on his chest. However, how it was wrapped gave me pause. More pause than his eyes or the two obviously celestial wolves lumbering closely by his sides or the two starry-eyed owls perched atop his shoulders.


    Luckily, he was quite a distance away, allowing me to regain my composure and speak out in our mother tongue. <<"Name and house.">>


    <<"Amun, Twenty-Fifth Child of the Nox. Or should I say Cole?">>


    I felt half of my frame relax while another half stiffened. Though his eyes were suspicious still... <<I was told you have black eyes and black hair. Not¡­>> I shamefully paused once I met those indifferently piercing eyes. <<"White hair and draconic eyes.">>


    He stepped before me, saying nothing but giving me a clear look at his features before his eyes rose to a point above my head, where they remained.


    He was undoubtedly of that sorcerous Clan. I could see it clearly- the constitution born from human blood. But, he was undoubtedly drow also. As frail as any of us, but with the thickly corded muscles that came only from days upon years upon a decade and more of harsh training. I wondered how strong he was. Moreover, I grew disturbed at the notion that, like many half-elves, he neglected using mana in his arsenal. Instead favoring the elements or whatever affinities he possessed.


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    Even more disturbing was his lack of a family name for his drow blood. That and the¡­ familiarity, of his visage.


    More even than that, though, I wondered aloud¡­ <<"What are you staring at?">>


    <<"The building.">> He said with monotonous finality. Like saying grass was green. Not a lie, it seemed, but not something that felt like the truth either.


    <<"Greetings, Champion, and welcome to Nydorden Monastery. I am Head Monk Etan Za''Darmondiel, destined to be your teacher in all things.>> I pressed my fists into a bow. <<The Abbot has been expecting you.">>


    <<"Very well.>> He nodded, subtly raising his brow before returning the gesture.


    A notion of uneasiness crawled up my spine as he stepped past me, leading the beasts to step behind him, growing smaller with each step until they were pups lying in the arms of those human children. Then they were inside.


    I was at least thankful that the other beasts followed not. But there were beasts of a different nature to face further in. If they would bark at me, or Amun, was the question.


    There is no shame when I write the truth of me hanging as far behind the group as possible. A cautious task, for Amun looked around with just as much wonder as the children. Likewise, I watched Abbot Eiriol incredulously. Specifically, the pride in her eyes when she looked upon him.


    <<"Welcome to Nydorden Monastery. I have waited for your arrival for some time, Destroyer.">> She bowed in the way she would to a Matron. Champion or not, I couldn''t believe my eyes. Abbot Eiriol, showing a half-breed- a male- levels of respect befitting a matriarch; it was unbelievable.


    <<"Thank you for your patience, Abbot.">> Amun bowed in turn. <<"I hope the wait was not too long.">>


    <<"Not too long.">> She quickly waved the matter aside, forcing more curious exchanges between the gathering crowds. <<"I am, however, curious about these... children. Human children. And this, the smallest one, standing without fear in the face of drow. Is she ignorant of where she stands?">>


    "Hi!"


    The room rocked backward as one. Not from the sheer volume of the small one, but from the uncanny timing. The Abbot wasn''t even looking at them. Yet the one in the blue hooded tunic waved the moment she was mentioned.


    "I''m Iris Cole!"


    "Hello." Abbot Eiriol feigned a smile, then looked to Amun for an explanation. But he only shrugged without a care.


    <<"She''s my daughter.">>


    The Abbot''s head shook like a snake''s rattle. A tame reaction compared to the rest of us. <<"You are supposed to be no older than sixteen.">>


    <<"Adopted.">> He corrected, gesturing to the other girls. <<"All of them. They''re here to train.">>


    The Abbot flicked a disgustedly cold gaze over the four humans. I was told a cunning smile would have followed such an event in years long past. But what I saw was something different. Something I could not place; although the smile was the same. <<"We will not coddle them. They will train as you do- as we do. By my hand.">>


    <<"Understood.">> Amun bowed. And the little one in blue mirrored him.


    Using the common tongue, Abbot Eiriol then waved to the surrounding monks, signaling them to bring out some friendly faces to the strangest drow of all time. Some laughed. Some sneered. Some were disgusted. Most were curious by the way Amun greeted the two humans and the cat. They laughed and shook hands, exchanging stories to catch Amun up on what he''d missed; unlocking their ki and being nearly complete with their first phase of brutal training. Strangely, there was no gloating. Not in the way we usually saw from those of the Bodhi Tree. They talked of their endless battles and their many kills in excess. But only in a matter-of-fact way. They spoke of their new skills, but in ways as to offer or request advice. Most curious of all, they spoke of countless subordinates and an unbelievable future. And then, they were shuttled away to get back to their training. Yet, many- almost every drow in the Halls remained to meet the last monk of the Bodhi Tree. The Half-Drow of the Nox. Telin''s Champion. Amun.


    As creatures of magic, we were eager to document his ki nature and explore his ability in earnest, sacrificing as many slaves as we needed to bring out his power. Thus their presence was no surprise. The pestilent curiosity spread throughout the caverns like toxic gas, infecting several thousand at least with a bug that forced them to rise from Zimysta to bear witness to this historical event. The eight High Matrons and their eight lessors, with their hundreds of High Priestesses, their thousands of Priestesses, their tens of thousands of soldiers, and their hundreds of thousands of slaves., it seemed like all were here to witness Telin''s long-awaited Champion with their own eyes. Or, perhaps it was because they heard of the prowess of the other monks and wished to compare them to the Champion. I knew not. I only knew that I hoped they grew bored and left as quickly as possible.


    The Halls were beginning to smell.


    "You have catching up to do, Elg-Horr." Abbot Eiriol snickered in the ways of old, despite her use of the common tongue. "You and your¡­ girls, are on the accelerated track, as the humans would say. These Halls hold knowledge of the arcane, compiled and retained in the Motherland since the Rending; and we are drow, pragmatic, unmerciful, and relentless in our endeavors. You will see this course is at the peak of efficiency. Like those who came before you and all the drow monks you see around you, I will ensure you leave this peninsula at the Nineteenth Step of your Path. That is a guarantee. If that takes the rest of the year depends on your tenacity and devotion.


    "Five hours of meditative rest and twenty hours of training will comprise your days in these Halls. Healing, eating, drinking, relieving oneself, bathing oneself; these are all to be done when you are able. If you are able."


    He accepted the challenge stoically. And, of course, the children, not knowing the weight of her words, took it excitedly or with determination. Even the celestial beasts remained stoic about the situation, distancing themselves from the children to move behind the scattering monks and lounge atop each other.


    "Now," Abbot Eiriol stood before the four and gestured them to her side. "I understand this class of Bodhi Tree monks are special cases in regards to their Paths. You all have Master Classes, if I understand correctly. So pray tell, what path do you walk?"


    The room itself seemed to lean forward in anticipation. Even the girls and the dogs seemed to expect an answer, and many were openly debating on the nature of his path using the silent language of our hands.


    Personally, I expected the Way of Shadows. Or, if he was like the cat, the Way of Twilight. Some, perhaps the Abbot herself, hoped to witness the Way of Void for a second time. But what Amun wound up saying made me morbidly excited for the near future.


    "My path is the Way to Death''s Door."

 281 - Brutal Days

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    These human children were oddly well-behaved. So too were they strangely without fear. Like Amun, they looked upon the Faerie Flame-limned walls of Nydorden''s Second Hall with more fascination than they did the first. They made cooing sounds at the vibrant pulses of the divine roots spread throughout the ceiling and floors. Worst of all, they discussed exploring the Sunken Ring as if it were a playground. And the small one. Iris. She smiled. She smiled and waved at almost every drow and slave she saw as if they were her friends.


    It was¡­ unsettling. At least to me.


    "Under normal circumstances," the Abbot said in the common tongue, bringing my attention back to the central pit. "We would start your training with meditation and conditioning before moving on with drills and weapons training with fighting in between. In your case." She smiled at the half-breed. "I''ve concluded it would be best to operate in reverse. You will fight until you can fight no more. If that means you are on the brink of death, so be it.


    "As for these." The Abbot looked to the girls. "They will join me in my Hall. If they are truly to be your... companions, they will learn more than just fighting from the likes of me."


    Amun said nothing. But he stared at the Abbot in a way that echoed a million warnings throughout the labyrinth. Then he ruffled the smallest one''s hair before saying, "Remember what I told you."


    They didn''t look back as they left. Due entirely to, I assumed, the white wolf and one of the owls accompanying them. I waited until they disappeared up the well leading towards the Abbot''s wing before turning to the Champion, the black wolf, and the remaining owl, holding back a sneer as I pointed to the shelves. "Strip."


    Those white, draconic eyes darted between the dozens of approaching monks before he turned to strip down to his trousers and hand wrappings, then faced about once more to show the Great Tree of darkness sprawled across his chest.


    Gasps and curious murmurs bounced off the cave walls like a steady dripping of water, but Amun paid them no mind. He paid our stares no mind. He only stared at us as we stared at the opalescent half-circle looping behind the Great Tree of Void, watching it shift from silver to gold. Then, his eyes began to wander, and I remembered. The many high priestesses and their lessors, hiding along the walls and ceilings. Waiting. Watching. Plotting, I could already imagine, to add him to the breeding stock. I shuddered at the thought. However, I also felt relief that such leering eyes were turned away from me.


    For the most part.


    <<"You will wear nothing more than that until you are told otherwise. You are to use no magic or sorcery in these halls. You will use no weapons other than the ones you are given. Breaking these rules warrants punishment.">>


    <<"Understood.">> He quickly sang, again in that all-too-familiar dialect.


    <<"As the Abbot told you, your brutal training will soon commence. But we will, as the humans say, fell two goblins with one spell. We will assess your weapons proficiency and physical attributes,">> I said calmly, motioning for the slaves to position themselves. <<"This and all training will be accomplished through mortal combat. As per your class, we will not stop until you are¡­ almost dead."


    <<"Understood,">> he said again whilst bowing, but in a tone I now recognized as anticipation. Eagerness.


    With a quick hand signal, his eagerness was put to the test. The slaves rushed him in a crazed frenzy and he reacted accordingly. I darted to the walls to watch his motions carefully while tossing the occasional weapon into the fray. As time went on, my deduction turned to a theory, and that theory soon bore the fruit of an undeniable truth. Amun had indeed trained hellishly throughout his childhood just as I had. Perhaps even more than I. And yet, there were suggestions that he was trained far beyond his years would suggest. His motions were un-telegraphed, precise, and, quite curiously, seemed to be a mix of various styles and forms, most of which were undocumented in our records. However, he had no ki and his movements were unrefined. Thus his attacks were severely lacking in power and his defense was rendered useless in the face of heavy blows. As such, he relied on speed and agility to deal as much damage as possible before dodging out of harm''s way.


    Satisfied with his aptitude, I moved over to the racks to begin the weapons training, wherein I was somewhat disappointed. Not by his ineptitude. Not entirely. As his physicality suggested, Amun¡¯s proficiency with the required weapons used by members of our class was¡­ acceptable. As mentioned before, his movements were unrefined in ways that suggested he''d received no proper instruction. A certain level of expertise was shown in both the traditional and the jointed variety of spears and staffs, however. Something that seemed to impress the priestesses above more than it did us monks. The spear was a powerful tool in the underground tunnels, after all. But that was not even remotely disappointing.


    The disappointment came from his reluctance to even hold a sword or scimitar, despite being capable of using them, if not horrendously untrained. It was almost sacrilege, to view the scimitar, the weapon of drow in such a way. It was blasphemy if one took the word of the high priestesses seriously, who even went as far as to assume he felt the same way about hand crossbows. Their silent whispers were cut short when I tossed a rapier into the fray, however. More even than scimitars, even the most uncoordinated drow were proficient with rapiers. Their silence turned to gasps when Amun snatched the weapon from the air and spun into a flourish, lashing around to take up a strange stance.


    With his trailing arm poised around his hip and the other raised to the shoulder, he pointed the slim blade at the nearest human slave and lunged, shouting strange words while attacking unceasingly, pedaling forward to thrust and whirl the thin blade in a dizzying motion that left the man scarred across his chest and face. However...


    <<"Hold!">> I commanded, ceasing all motion on the floor at once. Well, almost all of it. <<"One hour has elapsed.">> I answered Amun''s silent inquiry. <<"We will proceed with four hours of conditioning.">>


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    Again, he said little other than a mumble coupled with a bow. His face betrayed no emotion or feeling other than indifference. But¡­ something within me knew he was¡­ annoyed. He wanted to continue fighting until he was broken, I realized.


    I would not let him, I quickly decided. For there were many habits that needed beating out of him still. And so, I watched him run through the ring and listened to the priestesses speak praises of his high conditioning. I had no such praises to offer, however. Only an unbiased eye that I would use to ascertain his flaws and weaknesses and exploit them. As well as, of course, his inner strengths. Conditioning was indeed among them. I had to admit that to myself, at least. Such a thing was an anomaly for any elf; even a monk, but not for the Nox. He lasted the full four hours with hardly a lapse in focus or determination. But, like anyone, he eventually began to slow.


    The stair jumps exhausted him completely. A simple exercise, it was, where one had to crawl on hands and knees down a hundred steps- face first, and do squatting jumps to return to the top. Only, the incline was steep and the steps were many. However, the flexibility conditioning gave him some respite. An oddity in itself, for even I screamed and cried during the excruciating stretching sessions back then. Instead, many of us became morbidly fascinated by the echoes of pops and satisfied groans that came from the strange being as he stretched his joints and limbs beyond their limits. Not I. I only made a mental note of his spine and organs forcibly realigning from his stretches and breathing exercises while he ignored the excruciating pain I went through to see it finished. I watched stoically as his stamina drained throughout the second round of combat, and therein I witnessed the most impressive aspect of the Eternal Champion. Or perhaps a being of the Nox.


    Tenacity.


    It was a famed trait in humans in the eyes of drow. Their tenacity could be seen in all things from their arts to their cities, but not as clearly as it could be seen in combat. Lost limbs. Impalement. Utter decimation to their forces or bodies. Such things only birthed a righteous fury in humans that was unseen in any other species. A rage that could make the wrath of an orc seem like a dying ember. A rage that demanded they take as many down with them as they could, or keep fighting until death forced itself on them. This was a tenacity unlike any other, however. It was a relentlessness seen only in the undead. It was not a primal scream of righteous fury, it was a ghastly wail of silent malice. A wail that echoed the promise of ending.


    When Amun''s arms were too debilitated to move, the momentum of his body was used to swing them in the stead of his muscles. When his legs failed him, he fought on the ground. When blood poured from his mouth, he aimed the ichor at eyes and feet to blind and trip. No matter how much he was beaten or bruised, he crawled forward until the hour ended. Then crawled forward some more to struggle through four hours of drills. Then crawled forward some more for another hour of ''combat.'' Then crawled forward yet again for four hours of weapons training. Then¡­


    Then he lay there. Struggling against a downpour of fists and feet for every second of the hour while I watched, waiting for the signal from my brother, the Heart Keeper, to call the match.


    In the end, I was the one to call the match. When the crowd dispersed, he was almost unrecognizable. Just a bloated, rib-punctured body soiled in blood, urine, and feces. The only identifying cues were, of course, his mark, and the only open eye staring emptily into the distance.


    <<"You may use healing magic if you need.">> I found myself saying; after how long, I knew not, but I could not have a Bodhi Tree student, much less the Champion dying on his first night. To my surprise, however.


    "N...o."


    It was as if the words had been spoken by a zombie. For that was what my mind demanded I believe as I watched him push off the ground to come to a seated position; and, without being told, begin meditating.


    It had to be some sorcerous trick of the Nox, for he seemed¡­ better, once the four hours were up. He was still haggard. Still beaten and bloodied and bruised. But¡­ stable, somehow. Still, he was struck a lot more throughout the second day. Beaten more. Bruised and bloodied more. Then suffered more as he drilled in every known unarmed form and fighting style documented over the countless ages by our kind. Even then, however, he turned his eyes and ears closely to me whenever I instructed him on the principles of monastic defense and movement.


    He was debilitated more as he moved past becoming proficient with our simple weapons to gaining practice in the wide variety of martial weapons. He became emaciated and dirtied from finding ways to maneuver around the environment with broken limbs and battered organs. He ran himself far past Death''s Door from where I could see, conditioning his body to autonomously adapt to his injuries, if not ignore them. Day after day after day after day. Altering his martial forms, his mind, and his body to stand before that threshold with ease.


    When he awoke from his meditation and began fighting on the seventh day, I thought he used some sort of healing that went undetected. The labored movements and haggard breathing had ceased entirely, paving the way for the return of the graceful movements born from our blood. Then, I noticed the changes.


    There was no more flair or flashiness to his movements. Or rather, it diminished. Strikes were dodged, parried, and countered, but only some of them. Only the highly lethal ones. The rest were ignored yet were returned with a brutal source of power that was not there before. The strength limitations imposed by the brain since released, it was. A power that could crack skulls just as they did his fists, but not Ki. Thus his training continued.


    It was not until his intermediate conditioning began that I noticed two things. The first was the emptiness in his eyes. The emptiness and the burning green-blue fires within gave me a hint. But when I saw his training for his chosen unarmed style: the Adamantine Finger, it became obvious.


    He had been doing it for nearly three hours- stabbing his fingers into a bowl of adamantine shavings. After all that time and so many strikes, most of the flesh had been sheared or torn off of his hands in a rather unclean manner. The loss of so many nerves, muscles, tendons, and blood should have rendered his hand immobile. Yet I could clearly see the bony protrusions stiffening into the proper form before they plummeted into the bowls, then rising to repeat the action, guided by the black and blue-green sorcery formed around them of its own volition.


    It was amazing to see the limitations imposed on the body by the brain being removed in real time. After a few days, however, staring into those unblinking eyes grew eerie. Hearing the pops and cracks that came from his body performing leagues beyond its limits grew unsettling. Seeing him swing his weapons at unnatural angles, punch with bone-shattering strength, suffer blows that should have brought him to his knees, and yet remain standing for days on end grew to be sickening.


    On the ninth day, the drow monks began operating in other parts of the Hall. Thus endless waves of slaves were thrown to their deaths. That birthed a surge in attendance from the priestesses below. They watched the carnage with glee until the eleventh day, when they either grew bored or in some cases had witnessed enough death, leaving me to be the only one to look into those eldritch eyes for eight more days.


    As unsettling as it was, it was also a testament to his tenacity and devotion to the Way to Death''s Door. I still had no concrete idea as to what the Champion was- no one did, other than perhaps his drow parent, but I was certain that it had little to do with him being faced with the final initiation phase in a mere nineteen days. That was an accomplishment for us, who''d been practicing these arts for eons. If not anything else, it was a testament to the inherent tenacity of a sorcerous necromancer. A Living Lich of the Nox.


    I, however, could not help but think that even that was the wrong conclusion.

 282 - This is the Way

    <<"You may heal if you wish.">>


    I braced myself against those eldritch eyes to no avail. They opened from their meditations in a flash, peering into my soul to look around before they retreated to gaze at a point just above my head.


    <<"What, no training today?">> Amun playfully asked. The first words he had spoken in days; while still at death''s door.


    <<"No.">> I gestured to the end of the Hall, eliciting a nod from the strange half-breed, but he said nothing more, despite being taken aback once we entered the Hall of Meditation.


    ''We could not be more different.'' I mused once inside. The bioluminescent fungal garden was a common sight throughout the Mortal Plane''s Underground. The only difference was the abundant Ki concentrated within. Regardless, Amun seemed enamored by it all, exploring every surface, corner, and crevasse with his senses despite remaining by my side as we meandered to a vacant ring.


    <<I" must commend you,">> I began, gathering his wandering senses. <<"As does Abbot Eiriol. She says your human children are skilled. They have earned their yellow sashes already. Just as you have. More importantly, you have met my standards and have mastered the arts associated with obtaining your class, Monastic Defense and Monastic Movement. All while¡­ debilitated, and in nineteen days.">>


    <<"Thank you.>> He bowed. I was unsure if he was mocking me or if he was genuine. At least until he stood, laughing like a child. <<"I had fun!">>


    It was genuine all right, but my mind flew past that and latched onto the rows of sharp teeth filling his maw, cradling a disturbingly thin tongue.


    <<What in the Seventeen Hells are you?>> I blurted- in a murmur, but it may as well have been a scream. Still, Amun paid me little mind. He just rocked back and laughed harder until he wound down, stared at my gape expression until he grew bored, then went back to exploring the Hall with his senses after giving a careless shrug.


    A bit embarrassed, I cleared my throat, acting as if I said nothing. <<"You have reached the first step of your monastic way by refining your body into a vessel suitable for Ki. You have now awakened this power. Yet, your hold over it is wild and unrefined. Therein lies the purpose of this Hall.">> I gestured around us. <<"This monastery and those like it are chambers of concentrated Ki. Ki, being the radiative ''waste'' energy resulting from the cyclic absorption and emission of mana in all living things. Or, in your case, dead things. Meditation, practice, and experience. These are the tools needed to build your first Pond of Ki within your spirit. The end of your training will see to it that eight of such Ponds will have formed, opened, and been linked together to make an incomplete circuit. Half of them will be imbued with your Necrotic Ki. However, the first to form will be one of the remaining four Natural Ki Ponds.


    <<"It is Natural Ki that is used for the Monastic Arts I will teach you; the first being skills you shall practice within these halls until your first Pond has formed. Now, drink.>> I gestured to a nearby stand, wherein a large bowl waited patiently.


    Amun drank it without delay, and its taste elicited the first hint of emotion since his arrival.


    Curiosity and amusement.


    <<"It tastes like onions and bananas.">> He commented mildly.


    <<"Those are the main ingredients, yes.">> I nodded placidly, then slowly took to the center of the ring. <<"Now, watch closely.">>


    With a deep breath, I let the Ki within my Ponds and incomplete circuit flow and, once again, his eyes snapped up just as the incorporeal fists of my true self took up their positions by my sides. I pushed the sight out of my mind quickly, willing the Ki to realize my true self''s legs and lift me from the ground before I darted aside.


    <<Skip with the Wind.>> I shouted between footholds as I frolicked across the Hall, moving at speeds he struggled to keep up with. <<"Empowered movement through the use of Ki.">> A single, swift stride later, I was behind the Champion, my leg arcing dangerously towards his ear. The senses of a sorcerer, however, were sharp. With a quick movement, an elbow was placed in the path of my leg, blocking my kick, but not what came after.


    <<"Furious Blows!">> I chanted once the drumroll of my true fists ceased, and then I leaped back to take up a defensive posture with my back to him. The liquid fires of Ki within me, however, burned brighter than any light.


    From those fires, I sensed a shade approaching with the intent to kick low; a feint I did not react to. I held my ground even after he spun backward into a round kick. I waited until the fires began to burn to duck, pivot, and lunge my true knee into the chin of the wide-eyed half-breed.


    I felt a satisfying crunch radiate through my knee before the force sent him bouncing over the sand. But he only laughed while I began to continue my lesson, only for a billowing fire of blue to steal the air from my lungs.


    I found myself taking an unconscious step back as I looked upon the dragon-eyed drow covered in the ethereal blue flames of ki but then quickly steeled myself. He was only cycling Ki through his body, I reminded myself, which was not uncommon.


    "What the fuck was that?"


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    Confused, by the sudden shift in language paired with Amun''s amazed yet bemused expression, I could only shake my head for several moments before uttering. "Ki."


    "No." He moved his gaze to that point above my head again. "That stan- spirit of yours. The one shrouding you. It¡­ fused its knee with yours. I''ve never seen an astral projection do that. Much less one that looks like a¡­ sphinx-owl-man. That''s not your soul. What is it?"


    I was utterly frozen. Shocked. Nearly comatose. There was an answer, of course. After the Ki Ponds were linked, the traditional monastic skills blended with the aspects of the Monk''s tradition. But¡­ "I¡­ i- it. It is my True Self. I am a Monk of the Astral Way. But¡­ how can you see it? You saw it earlier, no? That is why you kept looking above my head."


    "I see all types of shit." He casually waved the matter aside. "Ghosts, spirits, souls. The list goes on."


    "Right¡­" I said, not convinced in the slightest. However¡­<<"We have no time for talk.">> I waved in the slaves with a sigh and stepped outside the ring. <<"You are to practice these skills, Skip with the Wind, Furious Blows, Ki Sense, which I just showed you, and the skill our¡­ distraction, prevented from being demonstrated, Quarrel Counter. So, allow us a test of your learning aptitude!">> I shouted through the cavern- if only to divert any unseen and unwanted eyes away from me. <<"You will use Ki Sense to either deflect or snatch projectiles from their flight. You may even send them back from whence they came, should you prove skillful enough.">>


    Although he bowed in earnest, he seemed reluctant to face off against the waves of slaves. That was another oddity. He always seemed reluctant to fight them. Not fearful. Almost¡­ remorseful. He would bow to them as well, and he would mutter some offering or prayer to them before they battled, yet he showed them no mercy. Orcs, goblins, humans, halflings, dwarves, elves. Any creature that met his eyes in that ring received two things from him, soft words and a gruesome death. Except for Minotaur, of course. Those always seemed to give him a run for his web; as they did everyone.


    However, there was another thing.


    Perhaps it was born from an ego, unyielding confidence, or something else, but he insisted they use magic, manipulation, or whatever other abilities they had. Even going as far as to offer the removal of the Negstone chips embedded under their skin. But even if the matrons agreed, he showed them no mercy.


    For two days, he meditated, drank his porridge, and fought against the endless waves until, at last, his Ki Pond formed. It did not come easy, however. He struggled and struggled, taking the punishment for failure in battle stoically, as such things only served to strengthen the Nox in him.


    ***


    Abbot Eiriol.


    ***


    I believed I was done with children. After raising the last one, I never wanted anything to do with them; at least the young ones. The older ones could be educated and raised to be better, all without the¡­ annoyances that came with the little ones. Of course, the young at the Bodhi Tree were hardly any older, but they at least had maturity. Most of them, anyway. But children. Young children. They were unruly, Disgusting, vile, rude, utterly lacking in discipline, and most of all, useless.


    It went without saying, but Amun of the Nox was none of those things. Nor was he anything like his peers, the Bodhi Tree''s young. He was Telin''s Champion; and among everyone in these caverns above and below, only five drow knew what that truly meant.


    Among them, only one had the pleasure of meeting him. So it was, the matrons and their priestesses were in my Halls to glean what I''d learned over six months ago. I knew Amun, Telin''s Champion, was more mature, intelligent, cunning, and wise than the High Matrons of Zimysta Falls, much less the young at the Tree. He was composed, disciplined. Enlightened beyond compare. Cordial unless provoked. Cunningly devious. Exceptionally elegant. He was anything but useless. But more than anything else, he was unpredictable. To come to my Monastery with four human children was certainly unexpected. To find them somewhat respectful, knowledgeable, and capable of unyielding focus was surely unexpected, so I took them under my wing, for I knew: to be under Amun''s care meant they were truly special.


    Special, they were.


    They took to fighting like vampires took to blood. They were agile. They were strong. They had endurance and strong constitutions. They had indomitable wills and sharp wits, hints of Amun''s intelligence and seeds of his power flowing within them. Especially the little stone-shattering monster, Iris Cole, an innocent-looking human child with brown skin and curly hair, dressed in a tunic that matched her sapphire eyes perfectly. She seemed to have boundless energy, being the first to approach me for lessons and being the last to leave, all but demanding to be taught of war and strategy, yet, she slept still. Only to wake up stronger, somehow.


    Then there was the Gerdian. Two years older than the little monster, she was, but her stature was that of someone twice her age. That alone was a hint of the divine ancestry that made her people formidable, but the crimson hair, emerald eyes, and orange-tanned skin all but shouted her lineage to the heavens. Unlike the Gerdian tales of old, though, she dressed in the formal slacks and jackets of humans, and her name was Blude. However, she still looked all the part of the arcane thieves of the seas native to Maru. Only, she was far from the desert.


    She was a quiet learner. An observer who wasn''t afraid to ask questions, mostly about how the monastery was structured and operated. About healing and business or finance. Quite interestingly, I learned she was a leader. Sam, the slender, tan-skinned human girl with black hair was a culinary artist who took a liking to drow cuisine to an almost obsessive degree. That, and short blades. Redd had slightly darker skin than Sam, with a build somewhere between her and Blude. Her obsession lay within the architecture and machinations within the monastery, and little else.


    Even as the Champion¡¯s chosen, even as humans, they exceeded my expectations by leaps and bounds on their initial session, thus I gave them no coddling during their training and raised my expectations higher. Day in and day out, I harnessed their abundant energy, infusing it with the centuries of teaching experience I''d accrued to perfect each movement, each step, each breath. I tempered their budding minds within the arcane libraries of the Halls, giving them knowledge no human other than the Necro King and the Iron Magus have set their eyes on. I planted the seeds of disciplined, militant pragmatism present in the minds of all drow by merging meditation with practical exercises, supplanting impetuousness with vigilance in the span of two and a half tendays.


    Conversely, I made sure not to dampen their childish joy and innocence no matter how vexing it was. Even without that glare Amun gave me, I would not have dared, for his decision to allow them to remain as children despite his temporal magic was all the reasoning I needed. I made certain no one, not a single drow from the Falls below made it into this Hall. I ensured I left nothing unsaid, unheard, or unknown from the basic practices of martial arts to Amun''s station as Telin''s Champion. I told them everything; for, no matter how selfish it may have been, I refused to allow anything but utter perfection to have such close ties to the Eternal Champion. Not if I had the power to do anything about it.


    After all, I did as much just seventeen years ago.

 283 - Deaths Door

    Amun.


    25th of Duotra, 1492


    El-Did Province, Shujen Kingdom. The Hall of Meditation, Nydorden Monastery.


    04:13.


    ***


    I finally understood.


    I truly understood what it meant to have a suitable vessel for Death''s energies. It meant more than mastering the Monastic Arts. It meant mastering them in a near-death state to allow my sorcery to infect the ki developing within me, corrupting the perks of my class. It didn''t mean learning how to shift one''s body to reduce the impact of an attack as Dextrous Defense dictated, it meant shifting the body toward the attack, slightly diverting or sometimes tanking it entirely awaken my Undying Defense. It meant redesigning my Martial Arts to fight past the limitations of a debilitated body, releasing the limiters on the mind to unlock the unyielding strength found in the undead. It meant putting every ounce of energy into movements to awaken my Undying Locomotion rather than conserving it as the Dextrous Maneuvering skill required.


    It was then when I completed my tasks and arrived at the 1st Step, that I truly became one with Death. That was to say, standing before Death''s Door birthed an eerie strength within me, yet the pain was still there. Regardless, then came Ki. Something like gasoline to the engine that was my body, an analogy I used throughout the last few days of meditation and training.


    Even now.


    I felt a sudden coldness race through the turbulent fires around me to brush against the back of my head and reacted immediately, using the potent fuel to snap my hand in the path of a somewhat blunt bolt just as it came into range; and after a surge of fuel, a quick snap sent it rushing back.


    <<"This marks the verification of your initiation.">> Etan entered the ring, waving the many, many slaves to discard the leftovers before gesturing for me to take another bowl of that strange porridge and follow him.


    Of course, I felt a particular way about the practice. But there was nothing more I could do for them than give them a sweet release of suffering through death. Besides, the dwindling fires within my Ki Pond reminded me of the poor state of my body. So I took the strange food greedily and grinned wide as the fires of ki were reignited within me.


    With the pain gone and Etan''s silence, I had a small moment to think about the state of this place. It went without saying, but it took a lot to hide my disgust. Slaves outnumbered the drow almost five to one, and there were thousands of drow in the Monastery alone. Most of them were monks, of course, but there were many religiously dressed drow ladies thinking they were hidden in the shadows. They did nothing but watch and talk amongst themselves the entire time, however, making every comment one could think of for days on end.


    I was at least content with Abbot Eiriol''s treatment of the girls. More than content, I was grateful for the devotion she showed in not just training them, but educating them. I even learned a few new things regarding Core Annexes and Divine Aphids, but my focus kept me away from the Net for now, thus I gave the old Abbot a small blessing to help her teach and left her to it.


    The only other saving grace came from the place''s historic beauty. A small hut on the surface of Shujen gave entry to a buried tower of inclined floors, or Halls that extended for kilometers, coiling around a central shaft to form a geometrical paradise of ingrained history. The air had a strangeness to it unlike any I smelled before. A smell, I knew, that came from the countless monks before me sinking the odors of their efforts into the stone itself. Every step within was like following a path led by a thousand generations of ghosts I couldn''t see, which was strange to think about now. Over the ages, their daily movements made groves on the stairs. The force of a trillion consecutive stomps created lattices of depressions on the parade grounds. Fungal trees stood with bowed stalks, making a testament to the resiliency of both nature and man- or in this case, drow.


    It was the third time I''d seen such a wondrous place. The first being on Earth and the second being the Arxis Hub. But this was structured more like the latter, for its layout guaranteed an acolyte passed the requirements for entering the next Hall before they even saw the end of the current one. As was the case here.


    We were nearly at the end of the Meditation Hall, although the exit was occluded by octahedral huts made almost entirely of divine tree roots and what appeared to be clay.


    Ignoring any coming explanations, I stepped inside to meet the same midnight purple glow as Etan''s¡­ stand. Only this light was cast by roots as thick as my body creeping up the walls, making footholds for subterranean bugs, lizards, and insects that added to the concentration of Ki within. Like fire dispersed in the air, the energy churned and coiled in on itself continuously, and yet it seemed to seep into yet another piece of familiar geometry, etched into the floor to shoot back out as linear flames.


    Crossing my legs, I sat at the center of that sacred pattern and focused on the swirling fires. Not of those within the room, but the ones swirling around my spiritual body, contained within a void near my Arcana Well- near my heart- like a heliosphere pushing back the interstellar medium. But unlike stellar radiation contained by a magnetic field, the fires of my first Ki Pond had a release- a network of conduits sprawling through my spirit-like veins and arteries, formed by mana to house this Ki.


    Therein lay the object of my newfound focus, a seemingly random ''vein'' within the network of the brain region was pinched to create a blockage while more focus went into forming a ''valve'' behind it, thus expanding the walls apart. Therein my focus split evenly. Half was split towards containing the churning flames in the growing Pond whilst simultaneously guiding and compressing the incoming Ki while the other half sought to continue where the energy left off in expanding the membrane into a sphere with a slightly smaller radius than my brain.


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    Carefully. Slowly, I worked, taking caution to not condense the ki too much and trigger an implosion; taking heed to not allow the incoming flames to burn the firmament dry; being patient to not spread the membrane so thin that it would tear.


    Icarus with balloons.


    With time, the effort required for the task began to wane. Sometime after, I began to relax into a meditative trance. Eventually, my thoughts began to drift into the comforting darkness of my mind, leaving me standing or... falling into an abyssal plane of nothingness. My breath sounded like the dying gasps of an eldritch being. My lungs rose and fell ever slowly, despite no air flowing through my nostrils. My eyes stared at a distant point in the far beyond, despite there being nothing to act as my focus. Until, that was, a point of sea green appeared in the great beyond and flashed in a big bang that birthed a line, pouring from that infinitely far point in the before to race between my feet and end equidistantly at some point in the beyond.


    My eyes fell, pushing my organs into my throat as my body plunged with them. Down and down and down and down, watching the line widen to a rod to a bar to a beam and to a¡­ road. A road with trees of black bone that was like wood but also not, and with fingered leaves that burned with the abyssal-violet Flames of Moil. An avenue that led to a lone abode- a necrotic manse of black bones, fossilized masonry, and sea green vines of ichor; segregated from the Abyss by a gate of solid sludge and landscaped with a lawn of grasping hands.


    It had never been so clear to me before; never had it been so far away, Death''s Door.


    I took my first step and felt my heart falter, for my eyes looked down, causing the road itself to break. The curbs crumbled, breaking down the road into a beam, and from a beam to a bar; a bar to a rod; and a rod, down a line of necrotic thread on which I balanced precariously. A tightrope of sea green energy that poured from an infinitely far point in the before to push against the soles of my feet, pulling it taut against the anchor point in the equidistantly far point in the beyond.


    There I was, suspended on a tightrope within the infinite Abyss, high above Death''s Realm, looking down at the sea-green tempest hurricane ascending with a roar of threats to blow me over the edge; hushing the promising whispers of greater strength.


    ¡ª-


    [Masterful Monastic Tradition: The Way to Death''s Door: Step 3, Death - Task Complete]


    [Reward: Mutation - [1st Deathly Ki Pond: Abyssal Avenue.] - The Avenue that leads to Death''s Door is an accursed path, for the whispers carried by the winds at its borders grants one the strength to traverse it, yet the roars that rise in intensity with each step come with threats to push you over. When you toe the line with death, your Necrotic Ki activates and beckons the fires of the dying to reignite your embers and keep you on your feet. But do not fall, for the use of your Ki will wear the Abyssal Avenue thin, and the plummet spells doom.]


    [Reward: Passive Skill - [Undying Ki] - The winds that blow over the Abyssal Avenue acts as a lifting agent to keep you dancing atop the ever-thinning Way to Death''s Door, enabling you to surpass the limitations of mortality in exchange for Necrotic Ki.]


    ***


    Head Monk Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    <<"Tell me what you know.">>


    ''Fuck!'' I internally exclaimed. How much I hated that voice. Hated more even than that most unpleasant face. So much like mine, it appeared, only adding to my ire. Not that I could show it. All I could do was take a deep breath and turn, kneeling as lowly as physically possible while I spoke her name with reverence. <<"High Matron Etyl.">>


    For almost 17 years, a sneer from High Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel was the nicest response she had the pleasure of gracing me with. I would have been a fool to think this coveted time would have been any different. She was the most powerful drow in all the Darkworld on this side of the World Seas. The most favored High Matron in the whole of Nonus by the Demon Queen of Spiders.


    She was my mother.


    Although she was as obsessed with Amun as any other elf, she was unlike Abbot Eiriol. High Matron Etyl of the Eldest House of Za''Darmondiel had all of the Demon Queen Spider''s favor while the Abbot had not a drop. And so, despite her being vastly older and more experienced, among other things, the Abbot held little to no power over the drow of Zimysta Falls. Not even the male monks she trained.


    Obviously, the same could not be said in reverse. High Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel held all the power any drow ever could hold. All but one. I was not that drow. Thus I had no choice but to comply.


    I began to explain that he met his marks. Only to be met with a prompt slap that left the taste of metal lingering in my mouth.


    ''Tell me of his magic!'' she snapped her hands furiously. ''Tell me of his oddities. I do not care for his martial arts!''


    ''Everything about him is strange, High Matron.'' I humbly signed back. ''Everything from his appearance to his personality and behavior, so much unlike ours or the Nox. The weave itself is strange around him.''


    That made her angry. Then again, priestesses and their higher counterparts were always angry. She was a Matron Mother. They were always seething. That, however, was not the problem.


    <<"Open the door.">>


    <<"I cannot, High Matron. The Abbot will- >> I spoke without thinking, and her hand reaching towards her waist corrected me on the spot. Yet she sneered still.


    <<"Your Abbot has deemed that you are to check in on him every twenty-five hours, no?">>


    <<"Correct, High Matron.">>


    <<"How long has it been since you''ve checked?">>


    <<"Almost twenty-five, High Matron.">>


    Again, a sneer was my only response, my only warning to push open the doors before she got violent. Lethally so.


    When I pushed open the doors, any fear I had towards the hateful drow vanished. In my face now, was a swirling vortex of blue-green fire that wailed with the screams of ten thousand tortured souls, and at its center sat the exceedingly strange half-breed.


    I stared in morbid awe for a full second before the vortex flowed into his form in a maddening torrent before peace returned to the Halls; only then did Amun stand, bringing me to notice the scars, dried blood, and oddly shaped limbs of his blue-green flame-wreathed visage. Or rather, the lack thereof. He turned, fully healed, to point those eldritch eyes into those of the hateful drow beside me.


    <<"What is this?">> The Matron gasped, mastering herself in mid-sentence to turn her expression of shock into a mask of reverence, but all Amun did was raise a brow of indifference.


    <<"Who are you?">>

 284 - The Walk

    Amun.


    ***


    The formation of my 1st Necrotic Ki Pond resulted in a surge of necrotic healing energy, resulting in the avenue thinning to the width of a cunt hair. Yet, when I opened my eyes, I saw neither reality nor the necrotic world but an inversed amalgamation of the two.


    Reality had been painted in the palette of the avenue, creating a field of sea-green fire solidified into the geometrical shapes designed onto the floor beneath me, the flowing roots around me, and the cavern beyond. The countless arachnids and critters of the underground were like cold blots of darkness against the sea-green backdrop of reality, almost like seeing Venus pass between the Earth and the Sun.


    It was within that field of sea-green fire that I noticed two humanoid figures standing close by the entrance and then approaching to interrupt my meditations. Rather than be annoyed, however, I was eager to move on to the next step. I opened my Pond, after all, and Etan would have come in to check on me sooner or later, so I turned, seeing two eerily similar androgynous faces of purple moon skin. Long locks of silver-white hair flowed from their webbed scalps, tied with a familiar elegance to prevent the strands from falling before their crimson, almost vampiric eyes as they stared and gasped with equal parts disdain and awe.


    <<"What is this?">> The female, dressed in a gossamer robe and tattooed with white webs throughout her body, was the one I assumed Etan called High Matron Etyl Za¡¯Darmondiel. How familiar she looked. How familiar they both looked. Their stout, pointed noses, slender jaws, and cat-shaped eyes, how they wore their hair, and most of all their brooches were all so much like Abbot Eiriol.


    So much like¡­


    <<"Who are you?">> I inquired, eliciting a curious twitch of the eye before her expression feigned amiability.


    "Bool," She said, a word for something both interesting and inexplicable in my mother''s tongue. Or, as Iris interpreted it, a weirdo. <<"Many are proud to learn the Destroyer is Drow. Your impurity was a concern, but if our blood is to be mixed with any, blood as ancient as the Nox would be the first pick of many. You being male is an unfortunate but acceptable fact. If hardly.">>


    <<"Why focus on but one half of my being?">> I snorted, mostly at Etan''s dour expression, but also at her reminding me of a certain emperor. <<"Destruction requires creation, does it not?">>


    Another twitch of the eye, but this one was followed by a wicked smile. <<"Show us your process of creation and destruction.">> A single snap followed her words, spurring Etan to meekly step between us with a blue sash held at arm''s reach.


    <<"Forming your second natural Ki Gate is accomplished by intaking Ki from nature through meditation, combat, and exposure to various sources of Ki. Therein lies the reason for the state of affairs above. Like the other rulers of these lands, the Bodhi Tree''s Headmaster rewarded High Matron Etyl with Shujen due to her and Abbot Eiriol''s assistance in founding the Bodhi Tree. Yet she allows the barbaric surface creatures to continue in their warmongering ways. Shujen is in a perpetual state of conflict as a result, making a prime environment in which to train.">>


    <<"I can''t argue with that.">> I admitted. It''s what the Galilean Powers did outside, after all. Others as well, but their Campaigns made them infamous overnight. <<"No utopia will keep mortals from turning to degeneracy, deviancy, and wickedness, so it''s best to sanction and regulate such things in an easily accessible place for the masses. I intend to do the same thing, more or less.>>


    <<Yes.>> Etan hesitantly nodded. <<However, we care not for the¡­ masses. There is a practical means to our ends. An agreement with the artificers of Bakewia to the south, the bards of Nevstan to the east, and the wizards of Knighilia to the west. A tax in exchange for using our testing grounds.:>>


    Etyl, seeming to grow impatient with our talk, pushed Etan aside rather forcefully and stepped to me. <<"You are to roam the surface, accompanied by Etan and myself. That is the fastest way to pursue your ends. A phase the monks like to call, the Walk.">>


    I couldn''t help but notice the confused and shocked gaze of Etan before he shielded it behind a mask of stoicism, and then turned to guide me to a strange portal. It looked like a giant, glowing, stump-high flower with petals of purples and reds laid across the floor, sitting alone inside of an alcove.


    Tentatively, I followed the other two onto the petals and watched in morbid awe as they lifted to close around us, and after a burst of spores or pollen, the petals unfurled to reveal the interior of the same unassuming hut in which I saw Etan, Abbot Eiriol, and Etyl at the beginning of the year.


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    <<"For this phase,">> The Head Monk turned at the door, <<"You may wear your personal attire as you wish, so long as it holds no magic or enchantments. We will wait for you outside.">>


    Changing was only a matter of unraveling the wrappings and pulling one of the hundreds of outfits made by Giorno straight onto my body from my shadow pocket. I elected for a hard summer version of my standard garb- black capris, and a sleeveless, hooded vest to cover my mark, eliciting curious gazes and subtle remarks from the drow as my sandaled feet stepped out into the bleak winter night. After checking up on the girls, of course, still training with Eiriol, under the careful eye of the Owl. Though, they would join me soon.


    I was, however, surprised to see Peter and the others waiting outside. Two drow, a male and female, stood closely by their sides; ever scowling, it seemed, except when their eyes turned meek upon meeting Etyl''s gaze. That, and the looks of reverence, confusion, and mild contempt they turned towards me. Not to mention the disdainful scorns given to Rua as he approached me.


    "They speak of showing us the way, yet they deny me mine," Rua said, meeting his calm eyes with mine. In turn, I shifted toward my¡­ supervisor. She had the most authority around here, after all.


    <<"I understand our weapons are prohibited, but Rua needs his weapon for the sake of his class.">>


    "Calm, Elg-Horr." She said in Common, waving to Etan to explain.


    "We understand Rua needs his weapon. He will be the only exception. The rest of you are to use only what you find during your Walk."


    I noticed a sudden glean arise in Etyl''s eye as Etan nodded to Rua''s instructor. <<"Bring it to me, I wish to observe it.">>


    There was no reaction from Rua, but a small rendering of his visage appeared in the corner of my vision, followed by his voice ringing through my head. {"I do not like this one."}


    {"Yeah, she''s crazy."} I internally sighed. {"Just hand it to him. We already know what''ll happen anyway."}


    With a deep groan, Rua disconnected from the Net and simultaneously released the sentient weapon into the drow''s hand.


    As if a titan tilted the Mortal Plane, the drow fell forward with a sickening crunch, releasing a stream of curses and howls once his hand was caught between the indignant weapon and the unyielding ground. The shouts of confusion and pain then turned to gasps of relief as Rua approached, retrieving his weapon and healing the lad''s hand with a few quick snaps and pops.


    "What does it mean to be worthy?" he looked up at Rua, rubbing his hand gingerly. But the young monk only turned, smiling.


    "Perhaps you will learn."


    "Enough wasting time!" Etyl randomly snapped, shocking the drow to a standstill. "Choose a direction and walk!"


    We, however, were equal parts bemused and amused, exchanging gazes between each other before I causally shrugged. "North." Then I started walking, hearing Peter say he''d take the south, followed by Rua taking the east, and Veil of Shadows taking the west while I watched them mark out their paths through NoxNet.


    ''I hear you are without a House name. Other than Nox, of course.''


    It hadn''t even been five minutes of walking before she cracked. However, the way she signed the words was what stood out to me. Not that I''ve seen another drow use our sign language other than my mother and those here, but my observations in the Halls coincided with my mother''s explanation of ''dialects'' in the unspoken language. That said, I knew not if those dialects varied by region or bloodline or both.


    Unlike our spoken word.


    <<"A custom. According to my mother.">> I flatly said, but the darkness of my spirit muted the words like a whisper.


    <<"A half-lie.">> She promptly said, and much louder than me at that. Then, after I gave her no response, she nearly shouted. <<"What is it? Do you not believe your mother could lie?">>


    <<"Unfortunately, I am not so naive.">> I snorted. <<On the contrary, I know there are many, many things sealed within my mother''s lips. Details about her homeland, for example.">>


    <<"Those who have lost the favor of our Goddess become pariahs. They must give up their family names.">> Etyl hissed with pride. <<That is the truth behind your Abbot Eiriol.">> She spat. <<"That is the truth behind your mother.">>


    <<"You sound certain.">> I snorted.


    She seethed. <<"I am certain! It is absolute!">>


    <<"Well I suppose that settles it then.">> I nodded indifferently, although a small part of me became a little more attuned to the waxing and waning voice in my head.


    Coincidentally, Etan took advantage of the silence, stepping close enough to whisper. <<"Why do you care about the human and his weapon?">>


    <<"Because I made Rua''s weapon. It is sentient, and Hinjaku is very picky about who touches him. That drow was lucky he was let off with a crushed hand. He could''ve been fried.>>


    I explained it as casually as I would anything else, and that seemed to make Etyl boil. <<"Why would you make such a weapon for a¡­ human!?!">>


    <<"Because I like making things. I made a sentient weapon and released it to choose someone worthy of wielding him. That someone was Rua. That is all there is to it.">> I shrugged again, giving them both pause as I stopped to look up at Mani. <<"I''ve been here over a month and all you''ve obsessed over is me being the so-called Destroyer, which I am.">> I turned my gaze to Etyl, giving her a nod before my eyes drifted to the illuminated rocks floating in the southwestern sky. <<"But so too am I a creator. A Grandmaster Artificer.


    <<"However.">> I playfully grinned. <<"I am here to train as a monk. So, testing out my toys- and all the other stuff, will have to wait.">>


    <<"Perhaps not.">> Etan motioned to the muffled cacophony in the distance. <<"A human settlement lies ahead. Barbaric warmongers. Knights, they call themselves. Haters of drow. Around four thousand of them dwell there. I would assume they heard our shouting. So, how will you proceed?">>


    I flicked my eyes between Etan''s stoic gaze and Etyl''s smug grin and snorted like the petulant child I was. <<"On foot.">>

 285 - Sovereign Monk: The Merciful Way

    Senior Monk Nijal Za''Darmondiel.


    Kariril Territory, Shujen Kingdoms.


    4:53 AM.


    ***


    "We will remain hidden in the shadows. Always close by. Worry not, human. We will not let you die."


    I heard a hardly perceptible laugh follow Ryda and I into the comforting veil of darkness. Then turned to watch the human sneer into the gloom before he took off at a meandering pace.


    Despite being human, Rua Nun showed no signs of being inhibited by the darkness. Indeed, he seemed aloof and unaware throughout the several hours of indiscriminate walking. His head constantly turned to gaze upon the infinite complex arrangements of trees and brushes as the grayscale skies gave way to the melded colors of the coming dawn. Even as he passed between the bustling county capital and the larger Wethinnoc Hold, even though he was noticed by both, he paid little mind to anything other than the natural world. Even as they approached him with spears held high, he outright ignored them.


    Or so it seemed.


    "My name is Rua Nun. I am simply passing through." He said before they could speak.


    I shook my head and laughed. Knowing the barbaric humans in these parts to be less than agreeable, I could almost mouth along with their reply. "You''re trespassing." One of the more brutish creatures sneered, showcasing several missing teeth. But the human monk''s response made me almost giddy.


    "If you attack me, I will show no mercy."


    With such potent words, there was only one way the situation could go. The closest barbarian reeled his weapon back. A great axe that did not even begin to swing forward before Rua snapped into motion, swinging his sentient weapon down across the barbarian''s knee.


    The slender rod passed through the knee as if it was not even there, spraying a mess of blood and bone onto the fresh snow while the howling of a pained human shattered the crisp air, eliciting a scream of rage from the sleeping cities in the distance. Forever undeterred, Rua whipped his arm up and across his jaw, smashing the barbarian''s head into a red mist.


    Another hulking creature came forward with a low sweep of his hammer and seamlessly, Rua jumped, flipping his body over the passing hammer while his momentum spun a powerful spin kick to the barbarian''s throat, grounding him in a prime position for his face to be caved in with an axe kick; and then came the roaring waves.


    Stoically, Rua stood between two raiding parties of nearly two dozen men with his weapon held out before him as he bowed in reverence, releasing a surge of snow-white Ki to shroud his body like Faerie Flames, then he disappeared into the fray, emerging between three barbarians to end them in a magnificent spin of kicks and devastating blows whilst deftly dodging, parrying, and tanking blows.


    Even Ryda was impressed, as were all the other priestesses who witnessed them below. For humans, Rua Nun, Peter Boyd, and even the cat were some of the sharpest weapons on the rack I had witnessed in the three centuries since I became a senior monk. They were able to bring our strongest slaves to their knees on their first day and could compete with some of our senior monks on equal terms, even in darkness.


    They were the finest humans we''d ever laid eyes on. That was an indisputable fact, no matter how many of us refused to admit it.


    ''I cannot help but be envious of Etan.'' I signed to my sister after the long battle that saw Rua scarred, bloodied, and bruised, yet grinning childishly. ''It is his damned life''s purpose. Yet he cannot even be proud about it.''


    A grunt signaled her agreement with my sentiment. The pride of a pious follower of the Queen Demon Spider would allow for nothing more. At least to a male. However, her pride did allow her to voice her observations and opinions.


    Or rather, her pride demanded it.


    ''You said the weapon was immovable, and that it spoke to you. That it claimed you were not worthy.''


    ''Yes.'' I signed, but then looked closer at the item in question, and almost spoke as she did.


    ''Made by the hands of drow, it appears.'' She commented. ''By the Destroyer.''


    There were no signals from my hands to affirm or refute her claim. I believed the same, after all, and there was no chance of her giving a fungal rat''s ass about my opinion anyway, so I gazed upon the field of bodies in silence. Then watched on in morbid pride as Rua finished off the survivors with a single, devastating blow, leaving not a single one alive.


    Even Ryda was impressed, but our interest soon turned to disbelief once Rua finished off the last man.


    It was not from his equipment. We ensured nothing other than his weapon had a magical signature. Nor was it his magic. He was recorded to have only a single affinity that could charge objects with various types of energy. Yet he mumbled to his shadow and watched an identical clone rise from the darkness, leading a small army of night-black gray dwarves, zombies, and skeletons to search the corpses at his command.


    Even their broken weapons and bloodied pelt coats were pulled into the darkness, leaving a field of blood and mangled bodies scattered in the snow. And then, Rua approached us.


    While we were still hidden in the shadows, Rua approached us. Smiling. "May I use my bell?"


    I looked to Ryda, who mirrored my slack jaw and widened eyes if only for a moment before she shrouded it behind a regal nod. Seeing it, I reached into my storage to toss him his bag- also made with the same flair as his weapon.


    "Do I even need to keep this?" I asked once he tossed the bag back, but I did not hear his answer- if any was even given- for in his hand was a bar of glowing roots supporting a relatively large bell of mithral with concentric rings and dials glowing a familiar shade of green.


    With his free hand, he fuddled with the dials running around on the face of the bell, then reared the instrument back to give it a great swing forward.


    A dull, deafening, horridly screeching ring pierced the air like the concentrated wail of a siren that knocked against my very soul. Suddenly, I was frozen in place, gasping for breath, skin crawling from head to toe while my eyes fought and kicked and screamed in protest to leave my skull. To turn away and shield my ears from that horrific toll.


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    As quickly as it came, however, it disappeared, and in its wake was not the cold, biting snow but cold, absent darkness. A field of night, blacker than black could ever be, poured from those mangled corpses, birthing abyssal hands to latch onto flesh and steel alike, and with a silent heave, they pulled as one. They stomped their flesh down into the Abyss while the Abyss pushed their spirits and souls into minds and bodies of darkness, allowing them to return to the land of the living.


    "How!?" Ryda pried herself from the shadows at once, rushing up to the nightly barbarians with me close behind her.


    So many shades of black and gray appeared from the folds of their clothes, skin, and hair as I approached, blending with the blue-green glow of Amun''s Arcana coming from scars, eyes, adornments in clothes, and some cases their hair. Even their weapons were made of the shadowy stuff, and they seemed so¡­ alive. So much like they were just moments before their deaths. They were still barbarians who scowled at us with all the hate one could muster. But they did not act. They would not act. Not unless their master, Rua Nun, willed it so.


    "How!?!" High Priestess Rida repeated, but the young monk just dropped the bell at his feet to let the hand of darkness reach from his shadow and take it away from this reality. Then he met our gaze, prompting, it seemed, the barbarians of shadow to clasp their fists before them as if they were monks.


    "That is the Nox''s sorcery!" She hissed with venom. "How?"


    "I work for Amun." Came Rua''s flat reply. "Me, Peter, and Veil of Shadows are Commanders of his Legio Noctis."


    "Ah." I blurted, suddenly coming to understand why he laughed at my earlier claim. "So," I continued; if only to save face, "he made all of your equipment then? Including him?" I pointed at the weapon.


    "He did." Rua nodded, turning on his heels. "Hinjaku was the one to find me, though."


    "Then he must be an Artificer. And a guildmaster at that. One without a divine tree." High Priestess Ryda quietly mused. But of course, this human was full of surprises.


    "Oh, but he does have a divine tree." Rua calmly said, turning his gaze skyward. And of course, we could not help but trace his gaze up and out to the pale rock taking up a good portion of the sky. The same pale rock that suddenly appeared several months ago, just after the great tree of darkness spread chaos through the lands.


    "Did he¡­ create that too?" I muttered, but my question was only met with a question.


    "If I may," the human said. "You treat Amun with reverence, despite having just met him. Why? What is he to you?"


    "Bool," I smirked.


    And so too did Rida, as she said. "Elg-Horr." But again, this human never ceased to amaze us.


    "Inexplicable indeed." He nodded. "And, you are not wrong. But only partially correct.


    "What?" he laughed at our incredulous stares a moment later. "Are you surprised one as versed as Amun would pass on his knowledge to his subordinates? I may not be able to speak your tongue. Yet." He made sure to add. "But I can assure you, I understand your languages well."


    A dangerous glare flared in Rida''s eyes. "What is your guess then, human? What do you think he is to us?"


    I took a step back in worry, for I have witnessed this prelude many times. But the human, Rua Nun, showed no fear. "To him." He gestured to me. "An eccentric half-drow who everyone seems to obsess over. To you, Telin''s Champion."


    I turned to the priestess, whose eyes were as narrow in disbelief as my own. But she did not act. Even as Rua ran his mouth further and flashed a pale, silvery-blue light through his eyes. "To me, he is my friend. He is my Guildmaster. Most importantly, he is my God."


    That revelation ceased any further conversations for the day. Rua continued his walk and we followed, my mind running a million meters a minute while Ryda glared holes through my skull.


    The path had become clear to us at once, for there was no other outcome once it became known.


    Since the days of the Rending, only the elven deities cared to act against the Queen Demon Spider, and their war was a subtle one. A war that saw little blood be poured despite all the backstabbing to ensue. The Queen Demon Spider had been uncontested since, for neither the high elves nor the wild elves were fond of traversing the world of dark; with no deity willing to take drow into their portfolio, her rule was indisputable.


    Through her webs, Drow society grew into a cultural amalgamation of wild spiders and those divine forces she commanded. It made a chaotic and unruly mess. A matriarchal and militant regime of zealots and pragmatists. Selective breeding saw drow females become larger, faster, and stronger than us. Yet we were still made to toil the slaves and fight without end while the females tortured us for pleasure and used us as breeding stock. It was a place of sadists, where males were regularly stepped on, spat at, beaten, tortured, raped, killed, and sacrificed for amusement. A place where males were relegated to becoming rogues on the fringes of society, rangers who decided to call the hostile tunnels their home, or fighters who submitted to their overlords. It was a place where only the best males of the Eight Eyes of Zimysta could become artificers, bards, monks, witches, or wizards. A place where their Legs were relegated to becoming warlocks or barbarians.


    There was only one way a drow male could be born lucky. That was to be born a Sorcerer- and there has not been one to live past their first birthday in eons. The spider queen did not want males to even worship her. No priests. No clerics. No paladin. And so, if there was another drow deity- a male drow deity- her pantheon was at risk of crumbling into the recesses of the Darkworld, thus she would have to tame him. However, that would involve introducing him to our culture.


    It was a culture we had to endure if we wished to live, set within a demonic pit in the Darkworld where horrendous creatures lie in wait at every corner. Far away from any Gods that would keep the Queen Demon Spider from ruling with an adamantine fist. All denizens of the world down under knew who truly ruled the Darkworld, though.


    All drow knew of the Clan of Death, Darkness, and Void that was old as time itself, and now, a Child of the Nox was divine. Now, that divine Child of the Nox was Drow. A divine Drow Nox, to be introduced to Lilith¡¯s culture.


    That would surely pave a dangerous web for us to tread in the near future.


    <<¡°Temper your mind, lest your thoughts be led astray. Else you may find yourself not returning from this trip, or worse, Nijal.¡±>>


    Although she could not peer into my mind, I took the warning in strides, purging all such thoughts from my mind for the time being, leaving room only for my duties as Rua''s proctor. An easy task, for Rua needed no overwatch in battle. He quickly tempered his ki from the environment, and he hardly needed instruction on how to use the sudden increase in ki to utilize the more adept monastic skills.


    Days, tendays, a month, and beyond, we walked with Rua, watching him decimate any creature that wished him harm. Never growing bored, but witnessing fewer surprises as time crept on. Until, eventually, he happened upon a non-hostile village in the middle of nowhere. A prime target for drow and barbarians alike. But Rua waltzed through the streets as he did everywhere else.


    We thought him to wander, as he so often did, only to see him enter a large room filled with the sick and, without asking, started tending to the patients. He healed many of them using the same strange method he used to heal my hand. But, for the ones who could not be healed, for those who pleaded for ¡®mercy,¡¯ he smashed their hearts beneath the immense weight of his sentient weapon with little words to spare for the dying.


    After witnessing such an impressive act, the humans asked for the same of their own volition. They pleaded to be shown ''mercy.'' Even as whatever poor excuse for guards was called on by the witches. Even as they threatened to arrest him, he healed. Even as they approached, he showed another dying man mercy, prompting the guards to charge.


    Rather than fighting, though, Rua ran. He Skipped with the Wind to the hills and turned to us with a wide grin once they stopped giving chase.


    "That''s an intriguing sense of mercy." I managed to laugh once we caught up to the strange monk. "I have never seen humans so eager to die. Is that something your God approves of?"


    "I gave them a painless death, freeing them from this life of suffering," Rua said softly as his gaze lifted to that pale rock. "Freedom. That is one of Amun''s core tenets. Freedom. Woe be unto those who take it without remorse, for I alone am merciful. He and many in his Legions, are not."


    All amusement drained from my face, both from his words and the discomforting glare from Rida.


    A glare aimed at the center of the young human monk''s back.

 286 - Stellar Night: The Way of Twilight

    Senior Monk Sid Za''Darmondiel.


    Hegus Territory, Shujen Kingdoms.


    ***


    ''Tell me what you know of this one.''


    I hesitated to move my eyes from where Priestess Shaenya''s hand lingered. Of all the Priestesses of House Za''Darmondiel, her hand was the swiftest, the boniest, the most conditioned- the most acquainted with my face.


    ''Veil of Shadows.'' I quickly signed back, keeping my eyes on those lithe fingers. ''He is the most exceptional of the three monks. His innate dexterity and agility make him perfect for the arts. He has trained greatly to build his strength. His conditioning is high. He has shown no fear, even in the face of drow.''


    ''He must have experience with us.'' Priestess Shaenya mused. ''Not counting the Destroyer, of course.''


    Speaking of. ''Do you think the rumors are true, P-"


    The sound of a snapping twig sealed my lips shut. The twig was my mouth, and the agent that snapped it was that hated hand of Priestess Shaenya Za''Darmondiel. My lovely older sister.


    Cursing indignantly within my mind, I thought back to when the Champion first arrived at the Halls. Human children were at his sides, the news of that spread like a cave flood and quickly died down once the Abbot took them into her wing. Then, for over a month, all talk regarded the Bool. Lecherous gazes lingered on him for every minute of the day. They openly declared him prime breeding stock while seeming to ignore the similarities in our features, and he did not seem to care. About anything. Except for the humans and this cat, of course. But then again, they were exceptional.


    The cat was a rarity in himself, being bald, ascetic, and introverted, unlike the typical members of their species. Not to mention, he was skilled and highly intelligent. So much that I hardly trained him at all. But it did not stop there.


    Indeed, Felipians were renowned for their agility. It was beyond comparison to anything other than elves, and there was none in all the realms more fluid and graceful than the Drow. None could even compete. Except for this one, it seemed.


    Even while Skipping with the Wind, I struggled to keep up with his bounds and leaps through the trees, relegating me to stare at the deeply corded muscles bulging through the pinkish-gray skin of the Twilight Monk. Yet another eccentricity. Unlike any other monk, his meditation was split in two. Two hours at dawn coupled with two hours at dusk; many of us were eager to see what such a routine would merit. That, however, would have to wait; for Veil of Shadows pounced into the midst of an orcish war camp and pressed on without hesitating. A flash of gold fire turned into flames of darkness that fell to envelop his form, leaving him unseen by the countless orcs as he skittered to the tallest tent in the camp.


    I, however, could see the cold fires of his ki swell and blossom into the same image adorned on his robes. A black, leafless tree sitting before a setting sun.


    It was like a slap in the face, both to me and to the orc chieftain, stomping out from his tent to see a lone cat-man crouch low before a set of claws ripped out his throat. That tree, worn by Veil of Shadows and the other humans, lessened the weight of Veil of Shadows'' slaughter. Their strength. That human''s weapon. Their fearlessness. It all made sense. To me, at least. Priestess Shaenya seemed impressed only by Veil of Shadow''s indiscriminate killing. Her lips quivered in delight when he pounced from the gloom. Her eyes widened further with glee as a body fell, followed by another, and another, until only the bald Felipian was left bleeding but standing- walking with nary a look back.


    Then she laughed.


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    Priestess Shaenya laughed and laughed until Veil of Shadows disappeared in the distance, then stopped so suddenly that a part of me believed a creature of the dark was stalking nearby, only for her to mutter out a prayer and usher me along with a single step of her own.


    ''Of all monks, his ability is the most beneficial to us.'' She signed. ''We must learn how to obtain it.''


    ''In time, we will, Priestess.'' I motioned back, risking another slap. ''The cat will leave here with the sole task of forming a monastery of his own. Our observers would have surely cracked the code by then.''


    I had no doubts that our minds revolved around differing ideas. Priestess Shaenya, as always, was concerned with obtaining power, unknowing and uncaring how or why this cat could wield both light and darkness. I believed with the utmost certainty that her scheming mind was attempting to figure out a way to recruit or perhaps even enslave Veil of Shadows. I, however, knew the truth. The cat had a master already. One that could grant power to others like a God.


    Like Telin''s Destroyer.


    Both her ideals and my truth were confirmed a few hours later. It was just before sunrise when an astral projection flew overhead, instructing me to relay a message to Priestess Shaenya.


    ''There is nothing here.''


    How I hated these High Priestesses. All powerful, they were, except when they needed to see ki or astral projections. Then they grew maddened by their inability to perceive, resulting in a bony hand tapping out a drum against my face. With a slap, Priestess Shaenya insisted that the light was playing tricks on them. The projection was adamant that it was no trick of the light, earning me another slap. Her stubbornness earned me many more until she bothered herself with a change of beliefs. But she did not even do that. She refused to believe something could have transported the bodies away, tore down all the tents, and cleared out any evidence of the camp''s existence in mere hours.


    I could not believe it. For I knew exactly what did it. But I did not tell Priestess Shaenya. I let her place the issue at the end of her priorities and sent the junior monks off. That, and I¡­ devoted myself to achieving her- and by extension my goal of learning about this Way of Twilight. So I led her to the grove in which the cat sat in meditation.


    Though I had schemes of my own, I admit that watching Veil of Shadows meditate was¡­ unremarkable. At first. But soon, a thick aura of magic began to seep into the air, breathing life into the forest. Rodents and other small critters came pushing through the snow. Owls flew down to perch nearby. Big cats strolled in and curled up near him to bathe in that amber glow until the sun crested the Mortal Plane to cast the burning blues of daylight overhead. Then he stood and began running once again. But when he stopped to fight again, no longer was his body wreathed in flames of darkness. His flesh burned within a golden conflagration of light, rendering him invisible in the daytime sun. Even as he strolled by common travelers and warred against feral orcs.


    It was the most amazing display to have befallen my eyes, still like that of a child''s. A month-long play of warfare, self-instruction, and survival. Through the Plains of Hegus and up to Kardor. Across the Tridanuiyrang River and past Fethondrarond, until we made it to the shores near Formazinferynd and skipped over to the border of Chaulort. Then we watched it in reverse.


    It was then that Priestess Shaenya began her play, put into motion by the utterance of a single word as we passed one of the many camps the cat decimated on the journey out. "Strange."


    She said nothing more. She only looked at the patches of dried blood and continued walking.


    Under normal circumstances, we would have remained silent to judge the mental backlash of taking a life. Many Bodhi Tree students already had, we knew, but some had not, and more were reluctant to kill still. It went without saying, but monks did not have such luxuries. We were taught to respect life equally. But we- like druids or witches, were not pacifists. We not only killed, but we refused to let the weight of killing pull our minds, bodies, and spirits down. For drow, that was as easy as breathing. But humans- and those raised alongside them, were the frequent exception. And so, we were to make a call for or against corrective training.


    It came as no surprise but Veil of Shadows needed no such corrections. He had no qualms about killing. Felipians were, above all, pragmatic survivalists. They were not, however, known for being particularly smart or cunning. But again, Veil of Shadows was the fearless exception.


    "Yes. It is as strange as the hour your incorporeal spies reported it in." He smirked, forcing both of us to stare at him with narrowed eyes.


    It was indeed the first time either of us heard him speak, and the gracefulness of his intellectual tone rocked both of us onto our heels. But he kept moving. Kept darting through the Plains of Hegus, forcing us to catch up.


    He did not slow until we returned and joined the two other two humans, Rua and Peter, in meditating. In waiting for the infamous drow to return. And perhaps listen in on our comparative tales of their prowess.

 287 - Primal Avatar: The Omni-Elemental Way

    Senior Monk Aldo Za''Darmondiel.


    21st of Duotra, 1492.


    Rith Tribe Territory, Shujen Kingdom.


    05:18 am.


    ***


    I had been uneasy about the entirety of this. Ever since that Bool appeared, I had been, and my little sister knew it.


    ''Stay focused.'' She motioned. But I knew the words were meant for her more than they were for me. Not that they failed to serve as a warning.


    Aufa Za''Darmondiel was said to be the nicest female in the House but I knew that to be utterly false. She simply knew a calm demeanor and sharp words were far more threatening than shrill screams and pointed dirks. What was worse, she knew these things whilst being on the brink of her second decade of living. Her words were her whips, and they cracked silently.


    The presence of High Matron Etyl of House Za''Darmondiel was even more unsettling. She only came to the surface for raids. Big raids. Against elves. And those were rare. The only exception was when the Queen Demon Spider demanded it. But I could not see her demanding such a thing for the likes of any male. Not even Telin''s Champion. It commanded my attention, much to my sister''s ire, but once the High Matron and the strange-eyed half-breed disappeared over the hills, my job became much easier. My thoughts became so much clearer. Or, at least clear enough to put them out of my mind.


    The reason being, that this human was remarkable. The other one and the cat were too, but this one impressed me even more. I saw only hints of trepidation when he first faced a drow in combat- far less fear seen by any of his kind, yet he adapted quickly, displaying a tenacious capability to think with haste and to seek perfection in learning. It was an utter anomaly. We were certain our brutal training regime would wear them down to their knees as it did every monastic acolyte of every species for the last millennium. But alas, it was as if they had been living under far worse conditions for the past year or perhaps more. Utterly stoic in the face of despair, they were.


    Utterly magnificent, their Ki was.


    Twilight. Mercy. Elements. Death.


    As creatures of magic, we could not have been more excited to witness his prowess. Proved by my sister eyeing him up like a cut of fine meat.


    "Peter," she said in awkward Common. "A Novice Monk of the Omni-Elemental Way. Exceptional in all marks. Able to hold his own against drow monks. Remarkable indeed."


    "I am humbled." He bowed.


    "And he is with manners." She smirked, then turned to point down the snow-packed road. "Let us see what you can do. Hold nothing back. We watch from afar, judging from the shadows."


    With another Aufa-pleasing bow, Peter started down the road at a wanderer''s pace, knowing nothing of the volatile nature of the rancid creatures that called this place home. Instead, he looked upon the land as if he could see through the waning darkness. Meandering as if there was not a problem in the world, even as burnt foliage began to peer from the snow to watch him pass by. Naught an hour later came the torches, drums, and watchtowers appearing through the brush and looming ever closer. Yet, Peter strode right past them, pausing only when an arrow landed at his feet.


    Then the Hells broke loose.


    He took on a firm stance and stomped, squeezing two boulders from the ground before he executed a double-palmed strike onto an imaginary target, propelling the massive rocks with the force of a stone giant''s throw. The crude wall of sharpened logs may as well have been a stack of crates before a charging minotaur. Snow and wood mixed with viscera and the shrill screams of the dying flew through the night, and through it all darted Peter.


    Covered in the ethereal fires of Ki, he skipped and leaped off of columns of air, sweeping his arms out all the while to gather the surrounding snow into twin whips of water to land in a spin and lash at the groups of small creatures running forth with rusted scimitars and axes.


    They met a swift end through the likes of water whips or ice swords until the last of this goblin party fell in a steaming heap of gore, leaving the horde behind them to rethink their actions for a second too long. A pillar of air shot Peter skyward, where he danced with the serpentine flames of his ki until he came to his zenith and fell like a broken stalactite atop the scrambling goblins.


    We entered the camp naught moments later to see it reduced to scattered piles of rubble, ash, and corpses that were either brutalized, severed, or charred, then left to hiss loudly in protest of the ambient snow attempting to steal their heat away. The only remaining combatant was a feral ogre attempting to charge Peter with a charred beam raised high. The young monk, on the other hand, adopted the snake style to project his Stunning Strike from afar.


    Hissing louder than the ruins around them, a serpent of pure blue fire lashed from Peter''s snapping hand, racing to sink its fangs into the grotesque flesh, brightening the ogre''s veins to a scorchingly azure hue as the blazing venom began to spread.


    By the next stride, the ogre toppled with a feral scream and managed to look down in time to see his leg charred to dust before the venom spread to his heart. Then the beast turned to see the cold eyes of the human who wrought such pain staring at some point in the distance. The last sight witnessed before the massive creature disintegrated into a steaming pile of ash.


    ''I like this one.'' Signed Aufa, but her slender words halted by a bell ringing in the distance, and by Peter turning towards the sound with a curious smirk.


    Skeptical and conniving, we watched him turn to his empty eyes upon his destruction before they fell to the ground, still empty, and yet in a way that made him seem... remorseful. A pity, I thought. If only for a second.


    "Scavenge what you can. Raise the rest of them. I''m sending the big one up the ladder."


    Our brows squinted in confusion, but then they spread and rose higher than possible once a little gray dwarf with blacker than black skin and blue-green eyes climbed from Peter''s shadow. Opening the gate, it seemed, for another and dozens more to follow. Leading the way, it appeared for several more zombies and skeletons to fan out behind them and search the dead, or in some cases, raise them as smoldering or bloated zombies and mutilated skeletons.


    ''They are of Clan Shaleheart, from across the Great Falls.'' Aufa remarked as she pointed to the dwarven creatures of shadow.


    I nodded in understanding. ''It all makes sense.'' Yet, for Aufa, it did not. Thus she demanded I astrally project to the Halls to drag a wizard across the frozen plains to have them study the young monk from afar.


    He watched for a tenday while I instructed Peter in the intermediate uses of ki and watched him spread chaos with glee. It never got old, seeing him raid camp after party after horde and walk away as if nothing happened, leaving his minions to pick the place clean until not even a good ranger could determine what transpired. Of course, with Aufa and this wizard''s ambitions going as far as obtaining Peter''s monastic tradition or this necrotic power to use as leverage against the priestesses, that left no room for my input. Likewise, it left no chance of showing any smugness once the wizard came to the only logical conclusion.


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    It was obvious that Peter''s monastic tradition would be passed on to his acolytes once he made the final step, along with Rua, the Cat, and Amun. That was the monastic way, after all, for the student to become the master. Likewise, it was obvious that Elg-Horr, being from that Clan, gave Peter the right to use necromancy. His immense power was his own, and yet there was something else. Something wicked.


    ''That human is damned. A devil owns his soul. He must have made a deal.''


    They seemed to drop the investigation after learning that the cat and the other humans were similarly damned, including the children. Although again, the answer as to who the devil in question was, was obvious, if unbelievable. Regardless, the wizard''s departure and Aufa''s brooding silence cleared my mind almost entirely, turning my focus to this young human and his fantastic Ki Ponds. Their formation was the most miraculous event. One I was all too eager to document, for not even the infamous drow of everyone''s interest could form a crude Meditation Chamber so easily.


    His ki burned a magic circle into the ground beneath him, clearing the snow and ice to show the very glyphs he was scheduled to learn upon his return to the Halls. As I witnessed in those halls, Ki-infused facsimiles of his affinity cores formed around him. Totems, they looked like. A blue-white pillar of fire sat to his front; a miniature twister was to his right; a small geyser was behind him; and finally, a squat pedestal of stone was to his right; all carved with the likeness of various creatures.


    Inferno. Tornado. Boulder. Flood. Elemental abilities of the second-highest order. Although the density of his mana was weak, Peter''s mana well was as large as a human''s could be. With those abilities alone, he had the power to reshape the realms as he saw fit, but with Ki, he would become one with the realms themselves. Such a claim became apparent when his meditations saw the earth totem split twice. Others split only once and fell upwards to collide, crash, and smash against the newly formed stone, pulverizing, soaking, and heating them into totems of dust and mud and lava left floating in a crescent arrangement above the monk.


    I congratulated him as thanks for the wondrous display but sent him to work immediately. We had much work to do in practicing the higher forms of the monastic arts. But Peter was a fast learner, learning to keep pace with my free running through the forest within days. Although, it took much practice for him to learn how to scale vertical surfaces with ease. Several days of chaotic battles later, the third natural Ki Pond was formed, bringing about the third miraculous event naught a tenday after.


    The four elements appeared around him as before, this time with the other three poised above him. This time, however, the fire totem surged and produced two copies of itself, allowing two of their reaching whiskers to flow into the bubbles of water and air while the remaining one slowed, fell back into itself, and imploded into an amorphous totem of... energy. Fiery and blazing in ways unlike fire, and dissimilar to the totems of steam and mist completing the hexagonal array.


    I openly surmised that opening his Ponds would square his base elements and expressed interest in seeing the results. That, however, would have to wait until our return. Not to say that was a bad thing, for Peter''s progress never declined. Human cities. Goblin hordes. Orc strongholds. No matter where he ventured, Peter waited until he was attacked first, then he endured the rusted scimitars, oversized axes, swords, and spells until every combatant in sight was decimated.


    I chalked it up to naivety at first. I assumed he did not want to be the first to shed blood; that he secretly hoped whatever conflict would arise could be settled with placating words rather than might and blood. A foolhardy assumption. In time, I learned that, like the elements. Peter was uncaring of motives, only actions, thus he was unbiased in his actions. Like a fire, he would burn anyone who toyed with him and destroyed indiscriminately. Like a river, he drowned those who tested him and continued his flow unabated. Like the earth, he was unyielding, both in stature and emotion. Like the wind, he was detached, yet carried a demanding presence. And yet, he was none of those things. He was playful in the sense that he experimented with his abilities. He was patient, never allowing his emotions to act for him. He was... tolerant, having a mind open to many outlooks, species, and cultures, and he was grounded to the Mortal Plane deeply.


    A strange state of mind for the likes of us, to say the least.


    As with the rest of us, his enlightenment brought about the long-awaited time to return to the Halls. Doubly so in the eyes of Aufa. She could count her surface ventures on one hand, and this one had been nearly two months. She was more than ready to be out of the sun, giving her a sense of indifference that ensured me the perfect opportunity to release the burden of my curiosity.


    "You are unlike any human I have ever met, Peter."


    "Drow." He said in that detached way of his. "I thought I knew about drow. I thought I knew about devils. And dwarves and halflings and humans. I thought I knew good from evil, order from chaos. Then I came here. I met Amun. A half-drow child of the Nox. Beings people sing songs about to warn children at the earliest age. Night Devils. From him, I learned about the importance of perspective, and how blinding it can be."


    That marked the beginning of a long and revealing conversation. I learned, among many other things, that Peter was a close friend of Amun. I learned that Peter was born a slave in Maru, and was freed after awakening his mana cores. I learned he sought revenge the moment he obtained his freedom; only to be deterred by witnessing Amun''s magic reach across the realm. Then, he met him after gaining admission to the Bodhi Tree.


    He was in his party at the Tree. There, he learned by spending time with and training under Amun, a new perspective. It was Amun who taught Peter everything he now knows. Arithmetic. Arts. Magic. Fighting. It was Amun who convinced Peter to become a monk. It was Amun who broke him from his shell. It was Amun who freed him from himself. It was Amun who brought out his potential. So, naturally, he answered Amun''s call.


    More than all, I learned that Peter was not simply a close friend of Amun. I learned that Peter was the first friend Amun made who wasn''t his vassal or royal equal, and Amun was Peter''s first-ever friend. Friendship was already alien to me. What was stranger was the fact that their relationship could never be extorted, for Amun ensured that anyone who would call him a ''friend'' would be as indomitable as he.


    That piqued Aufa''s interest, and Peter grew almost excited to describe Amun''s guild. The Legio Noctis, an¡­ eclectic band of explorers, who were currently on a recruiting spree as they prepared to scour the Mortal Plane in its entirety. He teased us with the knowledge held in Amun''s mind and told us of the trials they went through last year in grand detail to obtain it. In short, Telin''s Champion was as ambitious as any drow and then some. But unlike the rest of us, he had the power to realize his ambitions, and they were not for the sake of a cruel Goddess. For, according to Peter and the rest of the Legions- and perhaps the Matrons- Amun was a God. The God of Moonlight, Twilight, Engineering, And Mana.


    Mana.


    Such a revelation left us silent until our return, wherein we feigned politeness in offering the human the privacy to catch up with his friends. Meanwhile, we ventured to the far side of the entry hut to exchange information with the other monks and priestesses- our cousins.


    Ryda and Nijal told of Rua detailing Amun''s prowess as a Grandmaster Artificer but said nothing of the details. Not that it was needed, for we all remembered the fine gear they wore upon our arrival. Sid and Shaenya, however, spoke highly of Veil of Shadow''s fighting prowess, yet masterfully dodged any questions regarding his monastic tradition. When it came our turn, we divulged what they may or may not have already known. Peter and the others worked for Amun. That was it. Neither the name nor the purpose of their guild was disclosed, we certainly shared nothing about them selling their souls to Telin''s Champion, and of course, we disclosed nothing about his alleged divinity.


    In short, we had the advantage over the other sub-houses. Of course, that was without the High Matron in the picture. With her keen eyes personally watching the Destroyer, it was a certainty that her pool of information ran far deeper than all of ours combined. Such thoughts seemed to be punctuated by a burst of arcane energy to the far north. Such arcana was nothing special by our standards. Less than average, in fact, but to the standards of a human, it was nigh god-like. Then again, the arcana of Telin''s Destroyer had something ours did not. Affinities. And so, I felt even my bones shake as we felt the horrid sensation of arcane necromancy radiate from the Shujen capital, I felt trepidation when the sun seemed to rise on the northern horizon and outshine Tiatus to the south, and I heard the echoes of what was to come as the ear-shattering shockwaves rippled from that distant battlefield.


    <<It looks like the Destroyer is living up to his name.>>

 288 - Crowned Reaper: The Way to Deaths Door

    Head Monk Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    "How will you proceed?"


    "On foot." Amun snorted through his nose in a crude manner of laughter while keeping his meandering pace along the road.


    While his childishness was an annoyance for me, it was infuriating for the High Matron. She snarled as we melded into the shadows, glaring at Amun waddling up a small hill to come into the view of the steel gate, but he did not act. He kept to the far side of the road, waltzing by the watchtowers while the barbaric humans within growled and threw curses beneath their polished helms. Their growls grew to mutters as Amun passed. Utters that prompted one to retreat behind the walls with haste.


    Of course, there was no place in Shujen, or anywhere, for that matter, known to welcome drow openly. Amun''s eldritch eyes and fanged maw would only turn their unwelcome attitudes into open hostility; thus my ears were hardly surprised by the sharp click of a crossbow piercing the silence. In the grayscale of the early morning, I watched the quarrel sail true from the watchtower and miss as Amun feigned tripping on his own leg, causing the bolt to pass harmlessly behind his head.


    With the miss, the clicks rang like falling rain and Amun burst into action, dodging, ducking, dipping, and diving around their bolts with elven grace until he darted through the brush, breaking their line of sight. While cursed screams and toiling bells rang through the morning air, we trailed the blur in the darkness that was Amun on the far side of the city, skipping between stones and trees to launch himself over the walls and halt his pace with a graceful somersault.


    Chaos spread like fire, filling the air with the amber glow of torches and the thunderous rumble of three hundred boots mobilizing for battle. Yet, like water, the up-and-coming monk meandered through the alleys at a casual pace, turning this way and that to avoid the walls of rallying humans dipped inside a¡­ tavern.


    Melded in darkness, High Matron Etyl and I ascended to the rafters to look down on the dozens of humans within. The building was dank and crass. A rectangular structure of stone topped with straw, filled with tables and benches and large open pits of fire meant to warm both bodies and slabs of meat. They were reported to be blisteringly loud places filled with the most degenerate humans: a far cry from what we witnessed.


    It was filled with humans aged by labor, rather than time. Shriveled and dreary beings with leathery skin and sniveling noses upturned at the tree of darkness sprawled across the drow''s chest. Civilians, most humans called them, were not warriors or soldiers, distinctions Drow cared not to make. They were weak. Meant to die or be subjected by those greater than them. But to Amun, they were¡­ playthings. Toys. He smirked and grinned and nodded at those within as he meandered to the far end of the hall to take up a seat.


    "What''s a guy gotta do to get something to eat around here, huh?" Amun''s voice rippled through the darkness to reach every corner of the hall as his arm cast eerily long shadows over the tables, beckoning a barmaid to serve him.


    Rather strangely, the barmaid to sway forth was a man dressed in heavy armor of black metal and white fur robes like those rallying outside. Yet this one was here, reeking of honey and alcohol while brandishing an impractically long sword at the intruder. Naturally, such an idiotic display emboldened the other humans to gather behind him or run off to spread the word, thus emboldening the brute even further.


    He slammed the tip of his blade into the ground with a deep thud, ceasing the growl of murmurs in the room and giving him a bit of clout in the process. Enough, at least, to make his supporters turn a blind eye to him leaning on his weapon for support. "How''ed you get ''ere, darkie?" the brute swayed.


    Amun carelessly shrugged. "The door."


    "You lost then?" Someone behind him shouted, followed by the brute. "Must not be feelin'' quite as mighty. Bein'' out by yer lonesome, shroom sucker."


    "Not so." Amun shook his head, a cunning smirk spread across one side of his face. "I know exactly where I am. The Dryndrabethei Mead Hall. Alerus County, Shujen Kingdom." As the words fell from Amun''s lips, more and more eyes bore witness to the jagged shards of ivory set within his maw and promptly turned tail for the door, clearing the room for the squads of armored humans to take up their positions around his table.


    "And I assure you." He continued, flicking his eyes between the blades and bows trained on his frame. "I am never alo-"


    A metallic click sent the words trailing off into an incoherent mess of gargled breaths once a bolt ran through Amun''s neck. The heavy crossbow threw him over his chair, prompting crude laughs from the barbarians that were soon mixed with the clamor of scattering wood and the squelching crunch of quarries sinking into drow flesh. And then, silence. Or as silent as barbarians relishing in a fresh kill could be, anyway. They screamed and cheered and patted each other on the back while the assumed leaders huddled together to make plans of some sort. Others went to pour drinks for their comrades while one unfortunate human went to search the drow corpse.


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    Flipping the body over must have come easier than the brute expected, as an inquisitive grunt escaped his lips before a swift backhand split them against his teeth. Any grunt of pain was cut short by the claw-shaped hand thrusting into the brute''s throat, bypassing any air that would have left his mouth by virtue of the gaping hole in his neck.


    Amun overexerted in retracting his arm, using the added momentum to flip himself onto his hands and gracefully push off the ground with the unrestricted strength born from his necrotic ki. Now ascending with a slight spin, Amun reached for the quarrels embedded in his neck, torso, and legs and sent them hurtling towards the lead brute''s unsuspecting back with great force. As the quarries dug into the three leaders, Amun''s foot spun into the ear of yet another barbarian, slumping the brute against the table while Amun rolled to a landing, holding crossbow bolts in a backward grip as if they were daggers. Then he paused.


    The deadpan expression of his stare reached emptily into the room for an endless moment. So long, it felt, that I began to assume he was dead. But then the enraged screams of the barbarians began to shake the room. Their bodies began to glow and heat up from a fire dissimilar to ours as their veins bulged and their eyes clouded with rage. A fire that spread a wicked grin across Amun''s otherwise placid visage.


    A grin held on one side of the mouth like a stroke survivor. A toothless grin that was disturbingly similar to the one currently spread across High Matron Etyl''s face.


    Much like her, that smile was the prelude to the most gruesome display of violence I could have imagined. It was a losing battle, at first. Amun was strong. Abnormally so for a drow. But only slightly above average for a human of his size and certainly not strong enough to do significant damage against armored knights and barbarians. Much less sixteen of them. He was shot, hacked, disemboweled, and stabbed through. But through it all, he maintained his balance on Death''s Road, and so he never fell.


    Barbarian after barbarian fell to the undying monstrosity that was Amun until all that remained were five enraged barbarians swinging wildly within a crumbling building. A slash across the gut caused the fires around Amun to fade, but then a lethal blow to a barbarian''s throat rekindled the embers. Skipping with the Wind, Amun snatched the newly liberated hand axe from the air and flourished, slicing three throats in a frenzied spin that sent his loosened guts flying around him. Fully emblazoned with Ki, Amun gripped his intestines like a chain, sending the blue-green fires through the tissue to make them burn with the cold fires of death. They whipped around as Amun leaped over the final barbarian''s head, spinning as he ascended to entrap the brute''s neck in a visceral snare that sent him slamming head-first into the charred wall.


    With the mead hall filled with only the dead, Amun darted outside to continue the slaughter until morning. We happily followed in his wake, at times merging with the fleeing townsfolk to spread whispers and rumors about the fiendish culprit who decimated their armed force of three hundred.


    Our return bore us witness to an elven mummy standing atop a pile of frost-claimed cadavers. No more was Amun''s intestines, only a gaping hole remained where they had been. A cavity that grew larger as the sagging black organs within sloughed onto his lap. Similarly, his left eye was dislodged from the socket and smashed against his face, leaving a glowing ember of blue-green fire to burn within the dark orbit of his skull. His cheek and jaw had been shaved off of the right side of his face, casting a fiendish half-smile in our direction as we stared in mortified awe.


    "Are you¡­"


    A bony hand waved suddenly, forcing me and the High Matron back a step, and back another once a hoarse voice rattled the very air. "Yeah. Just¡­ thinking."


    "A- about?" I hesitantly asked.


    "What to do. With this place." The hoarse-voiced corpse mused. It was so different in both voice and appearance that it was hard to believe it was Amun. But then again... "Oh, fuck it." The corpse threw its arms up in frustration, then clapped twice. "Good morning, everyone!"


    The High Matron and I exchanged the most curious glances before a surge of energy forced us to look back at Amun. Or rather, just off to either side of him, where space itself tore to reveal a hot lightless sun and a cold but bright disk of darkness. Out of them trotted Amun''s celestial wolves, Skoll and Hati. Fantastic beasts that were reduced to mounts for Amun''s¡­ children.


    "Eww!" The small one screamed immediately. And yet, she rushed to the item at the end of her pointed finger to fall into its embrace. "You look like Zaraxus." She muttered while picking at Amun''s eye socket. "I don''t like it. Turn back."


    "Oh?" he laughed in that horrid tone, yet they didn''t mind the morbid sight in the slightest. They only turned their curious eyes over the corpses sitting beyond Amun''s pointed finger as he said. "Blame them."


    Curiously, the girl wrestled free from Amun''s embrace to scour the dead for¡­ something, paying no mind to the massive wolves or the flock of strange owls feasting on the surrounding corpses.


    "I''m due to train with Master Etan," Amun explained with a gesture to me. "After that, I''ll need to meditate like this for somewhere around a tenday. You can join us or-"


    "Nope. I''m calling Kit" The Gerdian threw up her hands and walked off with the other two girls trailing close behind. "I''ve got better things to do."


    "Same."


    "Ditto."


    Just when we thought only the small one would remain, she leaped from the watchtower and landed on her feet with no issue, then ran to catch up with them, clutching a severed skull in her little arms while she shouted something about ''needing a soul for Little Sim-Sim'' as she passed Amun. Then they were gone, leaving me and the High Matron staring at the living lich, two massive wolves, and a couple of divine owls.


    "Well." The corpse stood. "Shall we get started?"

 289 - The Touch of Death

    Amun.


    ***


    The thin strand of Death''s Road was a perilous bridge that connected the vast emptiness of the Underworld to the Curb of Death''s Manor. The Abyssal Ocean, far below, sent impertinent gusts over my wavering frame, lashing out to sever flesh from bone, threatening to throw me into the sea of darkness. So, having no choice, I silenced those winds and thus found myself pushed ahead by their dying breath.


    Down Death''s Road, the silenced winds fueled me to push further. Just as much, if not more so than the winds threatened to push me over the edge. Just as much as the humans threatened to silence my existence.


    Such a strange experience, it was. Seeing dissimilar things through the body and soul in the same instance. Watching the road wither and fall between my legs as my intestines spilled. I felt my soul leap down the thinning Road as my ki poured through my guts, creating a chain to entangle and whip him into a wall, broadening the road in turn.


    Like all things, the humans either fled to live or died, silencing the winds to the small crackles of cold embers that soon fell to the Abyss below, where they would heat the sea to a tepid degree and provide my soul with the strength to keep stepping to Death''s Door. It took considerable effort, concentrating that cold warmth into my solar plexus until I had enough strength to take one more step and repeat, time after time until I finally came upon it. A wall of ulna and radial bone that seemed to rise onto infinity.


    Without much thought, I grasped the first handhold and tugged myself up to a foothold before taking a look back at the Abyssal Avenue, now crumbling away beneath me and the wall I now dangled helplessly from.


    A wall that was not a wall at all, but Death''s Curb.


    ***


    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    I have rarely interacted with undead. All of those I have were hostile. None were sentient. As such, I was a bit disheveled, teaching a walking, joking corpse within a town of reeking death. However, I thought it to be a good thing, considering it allowed him to practice my teachings without end, it allowed me to increase the intensity of his training by the day. With my teachings coupled with his undying tenacity, it took him a bit longer than I took to be qualified in releasing ki in the wake of his movements to perform the contactless [Pantom Attack] and emit the energy from his feet to slow the rate of his falls, increase the distance of his leaps, or enhance the height of his jumps; [Ki Stream]. Soon after, the Second Ki Pond formed in its entirety, bringing about an evolution of his stunning Ki Flux: [Flux Necrosis.]


    Rather than explain the ability, he left me to muse it over on my own while he seated his desiccated self atop a focus circle of his own making to meditate. Therein brought my moment of lamentation. It was just the High Matron, me, and those strange creatures accompanying Amun. Guarding him while his girls occasionally dropped in from the skies or clambered out of a puddle to wander around before flying off again, uncaring of the maggots and other carrion-loving creatures feasting on their master just as much as they did the cadavers surrounding him. Or the necropolis as a whole.


    Capitalizing on his elven agility and making use of the many dropped or discarded weapons during the slaughter made for a city strewn with hundreds of mangled, sliced, and severed bodies; bringing a sense of deep despair to those who came here to investigate from afar. Rats, insects, vultures, and other carrion-loving creatures only made the sights more dreary. Especially after witnessing their¡­ fondness, of Amun.


    Within three days, reports of the battle made it to the coast and returned as a wave of hundreds. But, in the fashion of a true Nox Child, Amun did not budge when their torches appeared on the horizon. Nor did he move when they stalked the city of death. The darkness opened its eyes, snuffing out their flames, silencing their whispers, and dissipating their platoons through the abyssal madness.


    Within six days, the stench of death and the negative energy had become so great that the dead began to rise without the necromancer''s input. Zombies, mostly, but a fair amount of ghosts, revenants, and a few poltergeists as well. All kinds I have never before seen, and it seemed I was unseen to them. At least until they came too close and reacted unkindly to my unease. That served to turn my eyes away from Amun and onto his undead milling about the city. As such, it was quite a surprise to feel and hear the bellowing roars of a gelid inferno bloom from the town square on the tenth day.


    Me and High Matron Etyl both turned with weapons ready and nearly attacked in the same breath upon seeing a tornado of blue-green fire whirling around a robed zombie- Amun, rising to lick its incorporeal flames against the surrounding rooftops before the flow suddenly reversed, cascading down and into the decayed flesh and bone.


    I stood in morbid fascination, watching a scene I had witnessed countless times play out in reverse. Bones burning in arcane fire gave way to aqueous embers that flowed over the yellowed bone, leaving fresh nerves, dense muscle, and healthy skin in its wake; and when he was fully healed, the embers were smothered into nothingness.


    We seemed invisible as he stood, surveying the many dead standing around him. Possibly recalling, as I was, the many instances of him dealing death to the barbaric humans. Now, though, they seemed worthy of respect. Four stood at the front of about twenty-five. One was the first brute he killed, recognized by the sizable chunk missing from his throat. The rest were the assumed leaders, riddled with crossbow bolts along their rears.


    "Report."


    The word rattled against my soul like a door knocker, freezing me still while the rest of the city shook awake in the most violent manner, giving rise to a legion of zombies, not undead shadows, who turned, poised their hands over their chests, and lowered their heads in submission to Amun.


    <<"Should they not be shadows?">> I managed to ask after several silent minutes. <<"You do not seem surprised they are not.">>


    <<"No.">> He laughed through his nose in that crude way. <<"Ki is an energy based on life. My necrotic Ki is no different. It is simply the final breath of life, stolen away. Something the Underworld wants not. Undead, however, grow stronger from life energies. It''s why they kill.">>


    <<"You speak as if the Underworld has sentience.">> Matron Etyl spoke up. But Amun only stared at her with an unreadable face before turning to his few hundred zombies, approaching those first four he killed to release an absurd amount of necrotic arcana into each of them. Changing them from simple husks of decayed flesh into agents of death wreathed in elemental fire and lightning.


    After gifting them names, the newly sentient undead divided and directed the lesser undead around the city with the clear intent to rebuild the place in some fashion; paving the way for Iris to run through the streets, clutching the same skull from before. Only, it now looked¡­ regal. Fiendishly so. Two long horns protruded from its brow, just above the strangest set of eyes I had ever seen move within a skull. One was solid gold, the other, solid silver, and yet a third draconic eye of blue sat in the center of its forehead. Sharp teeth filled the maw like Amun''s, but they were black and lined with gold along the gums. The aquiline nose seemed to be made of marble or some other stone, making me think it was an actual beak. Strangely of all, its skin was charcoal-black like that of a drow but carved with strange markings and sigils throughout. And while its hair was white, it had the appearance and texture of feathers.


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    "I thank thee, my Liege, for this glorious rebirth. I, Sir Richor of Lumbarde''s Lore Legion, vow to uphold your standards and document all as your Skull of Lore. Or, as Lady Iris quoted, ''I am Little Sim-Sim."''


    "Well met, Sir Richor." Amun bowed to the skull. "Your first task is a status update."


    There was a pause before the thing started rambling. "Lainoara''s Splint sits a few hours into the distance. They boast a fighting force of six hundred thirty-five warriors aiming to avenge the deaths of the 268 present. I estimate a ninety percent chance of them attacking on sight."


    "Their funeral." Amun laughed, turning to me with a child-like grin. "Can I use some perks from my other class?"


    "Which class?" I asked.


    "Grandmaster Artificer."


    Hearing that, I let the curiosity get the best of me and tried my best not to show my interest as I moved away, waving over my shoulder. "Sure. So long as you do not use them to fight."


    From the shade of a nearby tree, I watched him take a hand axe and a dirk from the undead before he began coating mana over the weapons. Then came a flash of blue that dispersed to show much finer, sharper, and more elegant killing tools than he held just seconds before. It was undeniably the [Upgrade] perk, but that flash¡­ it was but a moment, but it released an absurd amount of energy that felt unlike anything I had sensed before, and yet was instantly recognizable. Made evident by the fact that the process was said to take much longer than a mere moment.


    Before I could ask, however, Amun leaped onto the rooftops and began darting off into the distance with his entourage of children and animals in tow. Hastily, I took flight with the High Matron trailing close behind me, a smile of wicked anticipation spread across her face.


    "I am certain of you having questions regarding the Liege''s perks. He has given me the liberty to disclose them."


    "What?" I faced front, coming eye to golden eye with that strange skull from earlier, effortlessly keeping pace with me as I flew over the snowy plains. Then, High Matron Etyl came ear to ear with me a second later, spitting at the thing over the roaring winds. "What are you?"


    "A Lore Skull, High Matron Etyl." It said. "A biological machination, operated in the same way a soul would a body. Much like Kit." The skull pointed its horns at the strange fox running alongside the now-gargantuan celestial wolves. "My purpose, now and forever more, is to observe and record the Liege''s unbiased history, so that it may be archived in an intangible space, accessed through various means."


    "So then, you are a speaking archive." I surmised.


    "A crass descriptor, but yes, Master Etan."


    "And the little one made you?"


    "Iris Cole, High Matron, correct." The Skull nodded. "The Liege''s protege in artificing and engineering."


    <<"Interesting.">> The High Matron muttered, distancing herself.


    For once, I had to agree. But I also had to wonder about the other three girls. Sadly, wondering was all I could do, as my duty was more prevalent.


    "Once he faced Death''s Curb, the Liege was granted the passive skill, [Touch of Death], to aid his climb to Death''s Door. Its use is twofold. The Touch can be used to strengthen his grip on the Curb, giving the Liege the means to climb faster. Or, the Touch can be used to rebuild broken footholds, giving him insurance should he lose his grip. And then there is the [Anti-Vital Pulse.]" The skull announced with resolute finality. "Similar to the Ki Pulse, it is activated during Furious Blows but is used to highlight ailments, weaknesses, and other such debilitations."


    While there were many questions I had for the skull, they were put on hold by the human settlement looming in the distance, prompting High Matron Etyl to rejoin the conversation. "What is the plan? Do you know, Head?"


    "Sir Richor, High Matron Etyl." The skull replied with all the patience but none of the respect. "The Liege aims to kill two goblins with one thrust by taking Lady Iris and Madames Blude, Redd, and Sam to the seas whilst he rendezvous with a few associates."


    ''Even the dead speak highly of them.'' I thought, looking at the girls in question. I looked even closer at the mana swirling around them as they moved. It was unlike any seen around humans. Almost... elven. Elegant. Graceful. They were adored by mana in ways that only we were. Like a lesser version of Amun, and a somewhat comparable version of me and the High Matron. So too did they have power. Magical organs in their spirits that were similar and dissimilar to mana cores. Silver spheres of scalding steam, hard ice, and swirling water. And¡­ something blue, cold, and hard like metal.


    They treated the air as if it were water, the older three. Swimming as fast as Amun sprinting and Iris barreling through the occasional tree or outcropping. Playing, all of them, just like Amun was, treating the rare but hostile passersby like angry but harmless animals. Uncaring, just like Amun was, going as far as to withdraw canvases to paint the landscape of a quaint town settled between the fork of a river while the others cooked dinner.


    I had none of that dinner, nor did Amun. We distanced ourselves from their camp, putting us on the far side of the river from the well-defensible city, shaped like a slice of pie with canals breaking up the walls in the distance. Naturally, neither a moat nor a wall would be an issue for monks who could walk on water and climb vertical surfaces with ease; skills Amun was here to master.


    In three days, the brutes behind the wall learned that very lesson through the act of observing an apparent drow train at paces only the heartiest of mystics could compete with. Amun toiled day in and day out, training his Ki to be gathered around his hands and feet to increase his climbing speed to an uncanny degree. His girls would seek me out when he fell into meditation, pleading with me to help them with their forms as Abbot Eiriol had done.


    The morning his third Ki Pond formed, four days later, a healthy Amun crossed the river with fits wreathed in ethereal blue fire, and the barbaric humans responded with a volley of arrows.


    The rest of us responded in turn. The girls took to the skies with me and High Matron Etyl while the celestial wolves took off in opposing directions to encircle the town in walls of icy flowers and fiery vines.


    While the beasts stood guard behind their self-imposed walls, the skull darted forward, spewing a mass of white from its maw that dispersed into a cloud of large spore-like bugs that clung to various surfaces across the city, and to Amun. They danced around him, focusing a small pupil on his frame as he dodged and deflected the shower of arrows as best he could. He managed to return some of them to their senders but got hit by many more still, although not quite enough to bring him to Death''s Door.


    As Amun Skipped With the Wind to close the distance, I quickly became engrossed in the battle. With the Ki-Empowered Strikes granted from the third Pond, Amun felled his foes much faster than before. But with his refusal to block many attacks, he was brought to the brink much faster as well. He was hacked, slashed, beaten, and stabbed ever more, eventually tainting the sky-blue fires of his fists with a shade of pestilent green.


    That was when the battle turned into a slaughter. As the nature of his Ki changed, I began to understand the Head''s archaic words from before. It happened quickly. A lightly armored fighter raised his sword, opening up his armpit for Amun''s arcing foot to meet. With the impact, foul fires ebbed into the reeling man before those same fires flowed back into Amun, glowing much brighter than before. His bones popped and cracked. His muscles bulged and spasmed. Then, he lashed out with a backhand as he turned to an approaching barbarian, shattering the fighter''s jaw. In turn making the fires ebb and flow again so that his bones would crack and his muscles would bulge and the barbarian before him would pale as the undying drow''s leg arced toward him, ultimately denting his chest plate.


    Each blow, I realized, each block, stole a little bit of life from his victims and turned it into raw strength; strengthening his handholds on Death''s Curb. With such an ability, he did not even need to fight. He could simply steal vitality as he was damaged, allowing his Ki to keep him standing far beyond the brink while the Touch of Death felled his enemies in his stead. As he was now, his fists were denting metal and cracking stone. I could not begin to imagine how much strength he would steal by the end of his walk. Imagining the end of his path was impossible. Let alone the end of this year.


    That was without considering the physical ability mutations of the martial classes.

 290 - Enlightenment

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    Hours of carnage. Then, silence.


    I had never witnessed such a surreal change in all my years. Granted, I was relatively sheltered and was still an infant by my people''s standards, but I had witnessed many battles and had taken part in many more. Never, in all those years, had the aftermath been so¡­ peaceful.


    The Splint was once a bustling domain of drunken peasants and yelling guards made of mud and brick and frozen manure. The humans were ill-tempered, a result of the harsh winters irregularly coming in from the World Sea to preserve their filth, only for the wet summer air sweeping in from the Nonusian mainland to thaw and spread the mess as far away as the rains would carry them. They were like many humans. Spiteful survivors who knew war and poverty and little else. Now, the Splint was a land of rubble and red snow that carried the echoing send-off of a thousand undead to the refugees in the distance, running from the ki-wreathed living lich until their legs drove themselves into the biting snow. Only for the zombie that to Amun pay them no mind.


    He raised the dead as he did before. As he did before, he imbued the first few to fall with a deposit of necrotic energy, then gave them a single order before sitting down in the town square to meditate.


    "Clean this shit up."


    Having nothing more to do, I found it an ample opportunity to annoy the High Matron and elected to join him, only to be distracted by the strange creatures lumbering up to us.


    ''First, they were giant. Now they are tiny.'' High Matron Etyl signed to me, her crimson eyes locked on the celestial wolves.


    While strange indeed, my eyes were locked on the fox, the one described by the head to be similar to itself. The High Matron''s eyes soon followed, sizing up the strange flesh of its paw pads before the silken fur of its legs concealed them. Then they moved to the nearly indistinguishable seams of its belly before the creature dropped down to lay flat.


    Just as I turned to study the eyes, the beast opened its maw wide to reveal a more or less standard mouth. At least when ignoring the gold-lined adamantine teeth, the holed ridges on the roof of its mouth, and the sheer wall in its throat. But then its not-so-fleshy tongue lifted, coming to a rest against the roof of the mouth to reveal a short staircase leading to an ornate door of onyx and gold. Having no handle, the door slid into the wall through some unseen device, allowing the girls and the head in question to walk or drift into the open.


    Seeing our widened eyes, the head drifted over to us while the girls ran through the streets, seemingly to explore the macabre city.


    "That creature is Kit." The Head turned to the fox and watched it yawn its mouth closed with us. Then turned back once its eyes lulled to sleep. "He is a Beta-Class Undying-Machine-Animal. Or, Uma."


    It took some time, but he eventually brought us to believe that Amun and an associate of his who went by the name of Ed, created a self-propelled magicless machine and somehow merged it with both a lair stone and a shadow fox raised from the dead to make this¡­ thing. A sentient roving village with the likeness of a fox.


    Even after the explanation and the changes brought to the splint throughout the ensuing three days there, I could not keep my eyes off of that fox. Not to say it did anything but wander around in search of a new place to rest. Something that happened frequently with the undead and their construction. Why they were rebuilding the city, I could not surmise, but the girls made the most use of it. They ran between frosted forges, cold kitchens, abandoned offices, and dusty workshops alike, working as hard as the undead were to create things I could only imagine until Amun stirred from his meditation, thus continuing the walk.


    We traveled at a relatively ambling pace, passing by a few camps and travelers along the way and more often than not, getting into some sort of altercation because the humans could not help but attack giant beasts, celestial or not, to feed their infectious populations. Occasionally, the girls would disembark from the fox to train or hunt, cook, or do whatever it was human children adopted by a fiendish drow did, and almost every time, High Matron Etyl dragged me along to pry whatever information she could from them while Amun''s beasts eyed her dangerously.


    While she questioned them and received oft unbelievable answers, I inquired with the head about the strange devices Amun created and received mostly cryptic answers in response. An annoyance, but not something I was ill-equipped to solve. I learned Amun was indeed at the fifteenth step of the artificing path, Grandmaster Armorer, but his renown as a Grandmaster Artificer came from the cities he raised into the sky as well as several devices that could use mana to communicate sound and images instantaneously across vast distances. Something that would allow bards to spread glory in ways one could only dream of.


    Considering the latter, such renown was well deserved. Everything and everyone deepened on communication. Drow were no different. To do so instantly and without spellcraft or perks while still using mana was beyond advantageous. It was only a shame that he released such bounties indiscriminately, for many were undeserving of such things.


    The exchange between the High Matron and the girls was not one-sided, strangely enough. The girls asked her and me many questions of various natures. They asked for training and guidance in stealth and thievery. They inquired about High Matron Etyl''s devotion and station; her way of life as an esteemed cleric and of the many different types of followers a deity could have. They asked about elven witchcraft and wizardry, then listened when we described how mages blended the two, and how a Magus blends mage craft with martial techniques. Battle tactics. History. Construction and refinement techniques.


    They asked about many things, and strangely, High Matron Etyl of House Za''Darmondiel spared no knowledge. Then again, it only made sense for her to lay it all out to bear, for it was the only way to verify the depth of their claim; and yet leave it unconfirmed.


    With such a revelation, our eyes turned back to the amiably wicked elf. Not that there was much to see. He simply plowed forward as he had been doing all along. Doing nothing besides maneuvering, training, and meditating with the dead until we came to the outskirts of Charrlagith and looked upon its sealed gates.


    A wall of stone, sconces, braziers, and torches made for a shining beacon in the plains. A rising sun in the night that sought to protect 25,644 citizens from the very primordial death and darkness that''d been plaguing the Mortal Plane for eons. Only a few keeps and castles stood above the height of the parapet, amounting to perhaps a few hundred pairs of pleading eyes to give supportive aid to the 1,700 humans mobilized beyond the gates.


    We idly watched Amun skirt the towns from afar, ignoring their scouts until they drew near enough to loosen their bowstrings and lower the pikes. Only to call for reinforcements with their dying screams naught moments later.


    As before, Amun spent the long night terrorizing the human forces while his dogs kept any survivors from escaping. He used every monastic skill to his advantage. Leaping up trees to drop ki-imbued heels onto soon-to-be shattered skulls, adding the power of another dead man to his blows before he went on to the next. Eventually, the slaughter began to look comical. Barbarians were kicked into trees, sent tumbling through the air, or bounced against the ground from the force of Amun''s blows. Heavy weapons were blocked and deflected with ease, albeit at the cost of loosed skin, torn muscle, and oft-broken bones. The smaller fighters were simply thrown into the larger ones, creating heaping piles of gore across the sleeping fields.


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    When it became too much to bear, the soundless call to retreat washed over the fighters, yet the barbarians roared out the name of their war gods. Both became meals for the two wolves, singed and frozen from afar by belched balls of fire and ice before they were amassed in a great pile to be devoured; leaving those trapped in their self-imposed siege without living guards to defend them.


    In what was becoming typical fashion, Amun paid them no mind. House after their panic died down, they gathered on the wall to watch him train and meditate among the cadavers of their friends and families for hours. Days as the undead constructed vast domes and boxes of glass and steel around their city. A tenday as roads inlaid with thin pipes were placed between the buildings. A tenday more as the negative energy rose a new army of zombies, who erected a towering eight-legged frame standing amidst those now-verdant domes and boxes to support what I assumed would be fatter and taller buildings higher above.


    As time went on, more and more people turned their eyes to the sights growing beyond the wall, amounting to tens of thousands of witnesses to the very event I saw in weeks past; albeit with a slight variation.


    From that lone zombie sitting between the walls and that strange construction, shadows poured. The abyssal night froze the fields of pink snow akin to tepid water spilling over the floor of a cooling box, deflecting the baleful souls from the Underworld to cascade towards that lone figure, Amun. The crash resulted in a great blaze of black smoke and ethereal blue-green fire, blasting the trees and sky away to have it replaced with an immense emptiness. A darkness that contained enough malevolence to strip my flesh away entirely, allowing only my senses to remain, grasping in the airless night as I clung desperately to a cold gate of black bone.


    My very soul was frozen. Damned to stare helplessly at the estate of flesh and bone and stone and muck sitting beyond that accursed gate. But what a fine abode it was, incomparable in elegance and stature. Much like the black-boned skeleton wreathed in a robe of blue-green fire, staring at me from the threshold. Beckoning me into his Yard.


    <<"NO!">> As quickly as the fear came upon me, Death''s Fence faded into a field of pink snow. The biting cold returned to my knees and the sting of the wind bit at me soon later. It was one of the few times in my life that I felt fear. True fear, from the most primitive and primal parts of my physiology. A terror so intense that I lost any concept of survival, of life or death, until it was too late. A terror intense enough for High Matron Etyl to cast a restorative spell on me.


    After she cast one on herself.


    Specifically, it was before, and then after she beat me, and the beating only stopped because of something peculiar. Another burst of ethereal fire, but blue this time around, and higher than the fires we just bore witness to; in the proportions that came only from the opening of the final natural Ki Pond.


    <<"That is- How?">>


    Another tooth-loosening smack was the reward for my outburst, preceding the hiss of venom. <<"Out with it!">> My dearest mother demanded. Thankfully, my experiences in the Halls were worse than most of her punishments. So long as she refrained from using her whip.


    <<"For all monks, the task of the Eighth Step is to form the final natural Ki Pond. To do so, one has to reach a state of enlightenment; or clarity about the nature of life. My enlightenment came after venturing through and meditating within the Astral Plane. But for the fourth Pond to open right after the third cultured Pond, one would have to have already been enlightened.">>


    I let the thoughts linger, for I dared not speak my doubts of his enlightenment coming from the Shadow Realm or the Underworld. On the contrary, I dared not voice my certainty of his enlightenment having everything to do with the Telin. For, if Amun was not just chosen, not just empowered, not just guided, but enlightened by Telin as well, that made him more than just the Eternal Creator''s Champion. Likewise, it made him more than a mere ascended deity, and if that was true, there was no need to voice my inquiry at all. Not when there was prayer. So, feigning as if I were meditating, I sat in the snow and pleaded with every fiber of my being.


    ''I... are- what are you, Champion? Nox. Drow. God. Devil. All of those and yet nothing, it seems. So... show me. Show me what you are.''


    <<¡°How?¡±>>


    It came not a second later and was definitively not from him. It came from my mother, approaching Amun with a cold sneer he seemed to not see. <<"Tell me how have you obtained this¡­ enlightenment.">>


    <<"Geometry, mostly. The sacred kind.">> He shrugged, releasing glowing motes that drifted around the air between us, inscribing a shape I¡¯d only seen once before and never forgot.


    <<"Where did you learn that?">> I demanded and wasn¡¯t punished for it.


    <<"A... facility of higher learning.">>


    <<"A facility of higher learning taught you arcane glyphs?>> I scoffed in disbelief. Yet his face recoiled in confusion.


    <<"Arcane glyphs?">>


    <<"You know not even know what that is, yet you form it so perfectly? Nonsense!">> High Matron Etyl sneered, stepping between him and me. <<"Do not lie, Destroyer! What did you learn at this facility?">>


    <<"Mostly maths, engineering, and science.">> He shrugged again, uncaring of the High Matron''s malice. <<"But also medicine, economics, philosophy, psychology, and virtually everything else. And then I learned how to do everything else.">>


    <<"That would take decades- a century, even, of continuous labor.">>


    <<"Yes.">>


    The amiable nod he gave her must have sent her over the edge, for High Matron Etyl''s sneer pulled her in a different direction from Amun''s meandering walk. I, however, could only try to discern the meaning behind his words while I brooded about my unanswered question. I assumed it was a result of his magic cores. The head informed me he had spatial and temporal magic in the same core; further proof of his connection to Telin. Such a thing would allow one to study for a lifetime in a day. Albeit at the cost of madness. I could not help but think I was wrong though. Thus, after our period of mediation, I prayed for the second time in my life.


    ''Show me! Prove to me I am not insane! And¡­ if you can hear my senseless, foolish, and selfish wish as a prayer, help me be free of the pain I cannot be conditioned to endure. Release me from this hell in which I was born. Me, and...''


    "Sounds good."


    It came not a second later, but undoubtedly from him. However, I had no means of discerning if it was a coincidence or a true response, for I opened my eyes to see him lying atop the edge of the warmed roads his undead constructed, staring at a small pile of dirt. "Hey," he said a few moments later.


    Curious, both the High Matron and I approached cautiously, attempting to keep whatever he was doing undisturbed.


    "Hello, Queen." He smiled a moment later. "I admire the nests made by your queendom. I make nests of my own, you know. Wanna collaborate?"


    "Who are you-"


    "I''ll give you a new home, of course." Amun cut the Matron off. "And I''ll make you smart. Big. Magical. Mechanical, even, so you won''t have to worry about the hunger."


    "Are those¡­ ants?" I asked shocked as a speck rose from the ground, revealing two fleshy bugs. The ant queen Amun was speaking to, standing next to a young queen.


    "Oh, you are most kind. I''ll take the greatest care of her." Amun smiled, plucking the insect from the ground with the gentlest care before a burst of deep blue light fell upon us, and when it faded, he was gone.


    We raced after him, finding him standing next to a tree with a mass of winged bugs clinging to both each other and the branch. There were so many of them that it looked like a drop of water ready to fall from a stalactite, but the things were black and yellow all over. We watched, utterly bemused as a variation of the same conversation played out, offering a collaboration and bodies that could adapt to different temperatures. Only this time, the mass of bugs buzzed loudly in response before the flash of blue came and both he and the bugs were once again gone.


    For a second time, we followed him to a column of hard dirt that stood over a meter high, where he spoke with the bugs inside to receive a termite queen, according to the Head, before the flash of blue light came and he disappeared once again. It was then that I remained to see what happened to the mound, leaving the HIgh Matron to chase after him. It was a fascinatingly bizarre thing I witnessed. The living eyeballs Amun created appeared with a few human undead shadows within moments. The latter used earth manipulation to form a ten-meter-wide mound of dirt and had it float before the bug tower using a small enchanted plate that emitted some type of purple and off-white magic. It was an odd shape, set somewhere between an egg and a pyramid, but with a wide tunnel bored straight through the center and many concentric rings tunneled along the base.


    As the device- the Satellite- observed, the termites went about deconstructing their mound and making a new one from the ''mountain'' in a dizzying blur. It was almost like time had been accelerated, the way the structure came to life in mere moments. But when all was said and done, the device, the stone, the bugs, and the undead disappeared, leaving just me and the Head, gobbling up the Satellite like a fine meal.


    During the return, the Head was kind enough to tell me of Amun repeating the same process at a nearby river, where he convinced a dozen or so beavers to collaborate with him in exchange for mechanical bodies. Then he went on to pocket a wasp queen, a few moths, and several small animals such as badgers, rabbits, and a wolverine before he arrived at his current locale.


    A spider''s web.

 291 - UnDead End

    With the unconfirmed revelation of Amun''s station as the God of Gods looming over my head, I found it difficult to do my duty as the Abbot dictated. Not to say Amun needed any training to use his newfound ki, I had him train to walk on water before he opened his last Ki Pond, after all, he''d long since developed the habit of reading Ki at increasingly further distances. To top it off, he was nearing the end of The Walk. We were returning to the Halls once he reached the 9th Step by forming his final Pond of Necrotic Ki. I knew not how he would accomplish that, other than meditating among the dead. I was certain, however, that it did not involve training and playing games with the human children, teleporting his cohort of animals elsewhere, or pampering his celestial wolves and owls. Creatures that growled and screeched whenever I or High Matron Etyl crept close.


    It had been three days since we left the walled city of Charrlagith. Three days of him coddling his companions. Three days of those beasts allowing me to train their master. Three days of militant humans stalking him from afar, watching his every move, calling for reinforcements, and organizing their numbers around the ever-shifting terrain.


    High Matron Etyl, a predator of the opportune, dragged me into her ploy the night they began organizing. Using a mixed bag of Amun''s amiability and her vast repertoire of divine and arcane spells, the High Matron cast a web of uncertainty around the humans, then stood in wait while her fear-inducing toxins drizzled down the strands. It went without saying, though. The Child of the Nox accomplished that on his own. And, not to mention, I was confident that the Elven Devil knew her ploy. Made evident by the fact that the girls could be seen sneaking through the resting human camps alongside us, stealing everything from maps and weapons to boots and rations. Harmless but effective trickery, meant to build skills in stealth more than anything.


    Such actions have since then ceased. Halted by the paranoia of anticipation once the city of Ullikis loomed into clear view. When it did, the theft, trickery, and manipulations ceased on all accounts. Even the beasts allowed us to approach their master freely, and the girls returned to their strange fox.


    The High Matron inquired of the plan the moment she faced him but Amun only smiled, saying his destination was some 350 kilometers to the coast. Alrafethinn was just beyond this city. Followed by Dretnat, and finally, the capital of both Alerus County and the human-governed Shujen Kingdoms, Bemarra. His destination was only a few kilometers past that, beneath the ice of Shujen Bay.


    <<"And what of the humans?">> The High Matron asked, to which Amun dismissively shrugged.


    <<"You are enjoying this, are you not?">> She smiled cruelly.


    <<"Their decision to attack on sight is no fault of mine.">> Amun shrugged again. <<"More meat for the maw, as they say.">>


    <<"No. You are drow. And they are warmongering humans.">>


    That marked the end of any conversations between us and him for what would amount to days. Amun and the fox-thing took point throughout the journey, allowing me and the High Matron to take up positions behind him, flanked by the wolves. He hardly even glanced at the city of Ullikis, paying no mind to the 97,000 inhabitants protected by a mere band of hardened stone and a regiment of nearly 7,000 humans who hoped the dangerous figure decided against making camp nearby.


    Much to their relief and more to the High Matron''s dismay, Amun did not. He continued walking north. Pausing only to meditate for four hours each day before continuing, his dogs ever close, his owls perched nearby, always; the strange fox forever lurking close by his side, the soldiers persistently trailing behind me and the High Matron, doing our best to remain hidden throughout the hated day and the blissful night.


    The same scene played out in the much less-populated city of Alrafethinn. Only with much more intrigue. The cavalry rode out to warn and prepare the paltry force of 800 while the regiment behind Amun split apart for a flanking maneuver. Within the span of half a day, he was surrounded on three sides, with the eastern flank being the weakest. An admirable effort, but the city of 12,000 was assumed to be in grave danger still. Yet, Amun continued onward without as much as a look their way. And, as before, the armies followed close behind. Armies that eventually had to stop and make camp in the webs of a demonic spider.


    The long walks led by Amun lasted throughout the day and most of the night at an unwavering pace, leaving their ranks fatigued. The High Matron''s webs and my illusions left them restless and wary. The trickery of Amun''s girls filled their mornings with unease, confusion, and frustration as provisions and personal items were found missing or, better yet, in places they should not have been.


    It seemed either Amun or the girls were of the same mind as the High Matron, for the tactics changed shortly after Dretnat loomed over the hills. The girls left them alone, returning to their fox. Meanwhile, I Astral Projected, and the High Matron simply turned invisible. We both drifted through the camp. Listening purely for the sake of amusement.


    "Agh!" one of the weary ones threw a horn of ale into a tree. "This is fuckin'' stupid! Chasin'' some fuckin'' kids around the wilds!"


    "That ain''t no kid." An older, gray, and grizzled human growled. A peasant-turned-fighter long ago, it seemed, or a wanderer. It was hard to tell, with them all looking the same. Filthy and covered in steel scraps and rags. "That''s a fuckin'' undead monster!" The brute so eloquently continued. "He''s killed thousands. Three hundred soldiers in Dryndrabethei. Gone. Over six hundred in Lainoara. Dead. Almost two thousand from Charrlagith. Decimated. Now, all three cities belong to the living dead."


    "How the fuck you know then, if they''re all dead?" The first one leaned forward, squinting hard.


    "Refugees. They say he killed them all with his bare hands. Used his own broken limbs like fuckin'' weapons."


    "Bullshite!" Another one spat. "Ain''t no darkie monk killin'' thousands with his hands. Much less with his fuckin'' guts hangin'' out. One cut an'' they run for the caves!"


    I winced at the insult, but another brute interjected. "That''s cause he ain''t drow! That''s a half-elf with dark skin and white hair! Not the same! You''ve seen his chest, haven''t you?"


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    "Still, ain''t no half-elf kid killin'' that many soldiers." The first one retorted.


    "It''s those wolves, I bet. They ain''t natural."


    "No fuckin'' shite, they ain''t natural! They''re fuckin'' glowing!"


    It was much the same throughout the sleepless camp. The next night, however, was a different story. By dusk, Amun came upon the outer farms of Dretnat. With a native force of 2,400 troops, they were able to bolster the ranks of the trailing army while a sole negotiator trotted out on horseback to intercept the interloper.


    "Hail! Unarmed messenger inbound!" He shouted, one hand raised high. Surprisingly, Amun stopped and silently watched his horse as the human dismounted and turned to meet the eyes of the strange elf. "W-what." He backpedaled once and swallowed hard, gaining his strength a little. "What are your intentions in heading towards our capital?"


    "I am not heading towards your capital." Amun lazily blinked. "My destination lies beyond your city."


    "There is not but ice and water beyond Bemarra."


    Yes." Amun nodded calmly. "Shujen Bay is my destination."


    The man squinted silently for a few moments, looking Amun''s emaciated frame up and down while intense focus was concentrated on the next words to pour from his mouth. "Even so. Your actions cannot be excused. You''ve trespassed the town of Dryndrabethei and killed hundreds of our brothers."


    "I trespassed after being attacked while passing the city of Dryndrabethei. Only then did I kill hundreds of your brothers." Amun corrected him with a cold, unchanging tone. "If you wish to punish me because of that, summon me to a trial. If you wish to kill me, you are welcome to try. I must ask, however, do you speak for those behind you? Do you speak for those beside you? Do you speak for King Horus and Queen Frahna?


    "Are you the one who will dig their graves?" Amun stepped forward and the man paled in turn, facing his widened eyes to the thousands of burdensome souls waiting in the distance before he crumpled beneath their combined weight.


    By the time he looked back, Amun had disappeared into the cold bog behind him, yet he remained for nearly an hour before returning to his ranks. They must have believed him, for they watched Amun from afar just as they had done before, only with a little more distance placed between them and us. Moreover, the trickery of his girls ceased entirely, and High Matron Etyl''s displeasure pulled her away from any more webs of deceit. However, she refrained from any outbursts until we passed the expansive city-state of Bemarra and their gathered army.


    <<"You are a naive child.">> That was it. One sentence of pure disdain. No slaps or beatings to punctuate her point. Only words. It was... uncanny.


    Amun, of course, ignored her entirely and instead gazed upon the city from afar. It was a magnificent place. By human standards. A wall of glistening blue stone contoured around the river, forming a crescent-shaped block of glimmering stone so the nobles could look down on the complex of buildings and their fields of crops with as little effort as possible. The keeps and castles lining the walls were always a prime target for prospective raids, but with an estimated population of 200,000, it was something rarely pursued. After all, the Queen Demon Spider had her eyes on different prey; and apparently, Amun did as well.


    He kept his pace over the semi-frozen waters of Shujen Bay, formed from the aftermath of Crater Lake''s formation. An irony in itself, for it was his ancestor, the half-high-elven Mad Void Monk, who formed the lake. It was a cataclysmic event. That primordial void destroyed everything between here and the Bodhi Tree''s main campus. The Southern Peninsula sank to the elevations of today, leaving a sheer cliff that stretched from the Mazi Council''s shores in the far east to the edge of our Knighilian neighbors to the west, decimating the Nevstan Principality and Shujen in the process. Since then, erosion had reduced the still-towering cliffside to a ridge that averaged thirty meters higher in elevation than the marshes below. Naturally, those wetlands transitioned to open waters that, for the most part, remained clear and choppy, with the seas freezing over once every four years or so. This time, though, the winter seemed unnatural, for the cold was biting and the ice was unbroken for leagues.


    We were nearly across the Bay by the time I sensed it. The unnatural chill in the air was chased by a strong malevolent force radiating from our destination. The girls soon jumped out of the frigid waters with no signs of them being cold as they claimed to have hit a wall of ice. Then, we felt the pang of death just before the hardened crunch of frozen bone rattled beneath our boots, halting us in place for but a moment. Even the High Matron was silent. More than that, she grew uneasy once a blue-green flame pierced the dense fog, illuminating a threshold of crystalline ice leading down into the darkness.


    a monster lair.


    We entered behind Amun, stepping trepidatiously down the slick stairs, shivering with each pass of the arcane flames. Step by echoing step, I followed, feeling the cold sense of death work its way into my bones until we were faced with a similar threshold at the bottom. Inside was an atrium of white marble, ice, and gold; hexagonal in shape and immense in volume. A lair so elaborate as to make me believe a white dragon convinced a drow to furnish its hole. Winter moss and icy plants bloomed throughout a floor of frozen dirt, tainting the overbearing stench of death with an earthly aroma. Gold, trinkets, weapons, and baubles were strewn about the place in places that seemed random, at a glance, but as I moved, I found my eyes drawn not to various pieces around the room but to the denizens of this lair.


    Corpses frozen in time went about their eternally unchanging routines in every corner of the space. Their faces were permanently curled in incensed visages. Some were frozen beneath blocks of solid ice, and many more had the blackened scars of frostbite throughout their bodies, but even their statures seemed peaceful. They sat atop pillows of frost, gesturing as if they had been in mid-discussion or prayer or¡­ meditation.


    Two rows of pillars ran the length of the room and rose to the glass-like ceiling, boasting tapestries and carvings depicting battles with mighty warriors of shadow pitted against the likes of dark dwarves. Then they shifted to landless expanses filled with stars and round realms filled with magnificent beasts and mighty undead. At the end of the room, of course, was a throne. Atop which sat the most brilliant skeleton I had ever seen, poised like a monk in a deep meditative state. The bones were plated, somehow, in adamantine and then inlaid with gold in the same way as the Head and the Fox, only going further to include the edge of the nose, fill the cracks of its skull, and form cloud-like swirls for eyebrows. Like Amun, however, it had the visage of a great tree inlaid onto its hinged ribs.


    With my keen eyes, I managed to notice the hinges on its skull before Amun captured my attention by reaching down into his shadow, producing a crown of gold and blue-green glowing mithral that he placed atop the robe skeleton''s head without a word.


    The crown pulsed the moment it touched the creature, releasing a wave of necrotic energy that cascaded down the corpse to pour from the eye sockets as necrotic fire, burning blackened muscle and paled flesh onto the bone as if he were immolated in reverse. Black hair soon plumed around the head, obscuring the face while the skin continued to burn into existence; down the neck, across the torso, to both arms, and down to the feet until a cold and malice-fueled young man sat before us, boring his silver eyes into High Matron Etyl''s soul.


    <<"What is this?">> She gasped.


    <<"This is Zaraxus.">> Amun laughed through his nose, much to the High Matron''s ire. <<"He was my first kill, initially raised as a draugr. For a while now, he''s been a Death Jarl without a crown. Now that he has one, it''s time for you to claim your kingdom, right?">>


    "Yes, my liege." The evolved draugr, the Death Jarl, Zaraxus, hissed with glee.


    As did the High Matron.

 292 - Nature x Purpose

    Amun spoke as if he planned on conquering the city. Yet his actions belied such notions. His girls entered the cavern and began speaking to Zaraxus and the other draugr who soon awoke as if they were long-lost friends. The beasts took up various positions around the place to lounge or, in the case of the white wolf, to gnaw on frozen corpses. Amun, on the other hand, did his training, ate a meal cooked by one of the girls, and smoked on a pipe before lounging around for minutes upon hours. I did not even want to stop him or tell him he could not. Not because of the beasts or undead either, but simply because it was the first time I could observe him in his natural state.


    He seemed... peaceful. So¡­ happy, an emotion our language had no word to describe, not without it having darker implications. It was an emotion felt by no drow I''d known before. At least in the sense in which I witnessed from him. So of course, it made High Matron Etyl discontent, but for the first time in her life, there was nothing she could do about it. Not without displeasing the Queen Demon Spider.


    <<"You planned this from the start.">> High Matron Etyl approached with an accusing finger pointed towards the alleged God of Gods. <<"You knew about these humans from the start. Their nature. How they would react. Even the name of their rulers. How?">>


    <<"Er... I have a giant eye floating above the sky.>> Amun crudely snorted, much to the Matron''s annoyance.


    That, however, served as the final piece to the puzzle. The rock above. The Second Sun, as the surface dwellers called it. The one that appeared just after the great void tree brought the peninsula into a state of temporary panic. I wanted to ask, and with the High Matron''s attention so focused on Amun, I figured now was my chance and thus heard my voice echo through my mind''s eye. ''That is your power? A rock in the sky?''


    ''¡­ one of them.''


    Despite my experience from before, part of me did not expect any particular response. Thus when I heard the calm voice reverberating through my soul, I could not hide my surprise. Thankfully, though, High Matron Etyl''s focus was turned away from my widened eyes as she pestered Amun further.


    <<"What is your aim now that you have rejoined with your undead?">>


    ''Gloom panther caught your tongue?'' Amun''s laugh echoed in my head while his body shrugged carelessly. <<"I aim to move further down my paths.">>


    The wince of her eye told me she caught the distinction of his words, yet she said nothing. So I prayed further. ''You are the Destroyer, I know. But¡­ you are a God, are you not? The God of Gods. Of what domains?''


    <<"And what does that entail?">> High Matron Etyl scowled.


    <<"Well.">> Amun shrugged again. <<"You''ve inquired about my toys. Care for a little demo?">>


    He did not wait for our answer. Not that I could have. My mind was spinning with the possibilities. Enchanting. Artificing. Crafting. Any and everything could be a part of a deity''s portfolio. But only the strongest aspect became the domains that granted power to their faithful. For the Queen Demon Spider, those domains were Demon Spiders, Fate, Chaos, and Drow. Yet her portfolio included everything from Assassins and Deception to Darkness.


    But what of Amun, I wondered. Darkness, undoubtedly, but also death had to be in his portfolio; two things Drow could employ with great efficiency; and so too could we employ whatever artistic art that may or may not have been a part of his domain. It went beyond that, though. If Amun, a male drow, was truly the God of Gods, he could release us from the horrific fate of living under Lilith''s fangs.


    Even then, I dared not ask him, though. Instead, I decided to wait and see if he showed me if such was the case. And so, I watched with unblinking eyes as he teased us with a fine three-sectioned staff, a curious hand crossbow, and a staff with a sling affixed to the end; all heavily enchanted.


    <<"Would you like to try them out?">>


    <<"Perhaps after you finish your Walk.">> I said before the High Matron could speak, risking a beating in the process. Yet she said nothing other than a soft prayer to utilize a detection spell. Then offered a nod of recognition before giving him the space to meditate. Thus marking hours of frustrating boredom for the High Matron.


    On the contrary, I was quite intrigued, for there were subtle actions I noticed while observing. First, Amun did not begin meditating immediately. He gathered four undead and infused them with power. What kind, I could not tell, but I was at least able to detect that familiar blue flash before they disappeared into darkness; returning moments later with metal bones and enchanted equipment. He then spent up to two hours muttering strange things to the wolves. He gave them great feasts, offered apologetic words, and made odd promises. Then he played with them. They chased each other, playfully fought, nuzzled together, and remained still for long moments while the girls looked on mournfully.


    I noticed the focus ring sitting before the throne once Amun joined his Death Jarl in meditation. The four hundred he tinkered with sat in a square around them, carving lines into the ice to form the most basic of Arcane Glyphs, the Glyph of Stability. Sixteen more zombies formed up next, with many of them forming a pair of rings that converged on their King and Sovereign at the center, the Glyph of Fusion. The rest of the 16 arranged themselves around them to form the Glyph of Life, then used the 20 skeletons to draw up the Glyph of Wisdom, with the Glyph of Power hidden within being represented by them standing with their hands clasped before their chests.


    When the cavern took on a darker hue some four hours later, the girls adopted a sudden sense of purpose and darted into the cold night toting spears and tridents. An hour after that, the undead began chanting.


    It started as a singular rasp from ruptured lungs. A deathly rattle that was soon joined by countless others. Their voices sang from the shadows, offering a wordless requiem for the dead that was soon to be. The barbarians, us, or Amun, I could not discern, and so I remained, petrified in a tormented state of suffering and awe.


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    High Matron Etyl of House Za''Darmondiel was not as fortunate. She plugged her ears as best she could until the haunting sound became too much for her to bear, wherein she shouted with all her might. <<"This is the darkest night! Why do you wait?">>


    I wanted to stop her. Yet there was no way I could. She was a High Matron of the eldest and most honored Drow House in all the realms. Being my mother meant nothing in the face of that. A single uttered word and I would catch a first-hand glimpse of Amun''s monastic way. And no such thing empowered the likes of me. Moreover, my stopping her would have interrupted Amun''s meditation further. Not to mention the draugr meditating around him would have turned their scowls to me instead. So, I stayed silent and watched.


    She did not.


    <<"Daybreak draws closer with each passing moment!">> She hissed. <<"Each minute, you lose your advantage!">>


    <<"Not so.">> Amun calmly replied, hardly breaking his concentration. Though the pale king sneered at her dangerously. <<"Dawn is when I am strongest.">>


    ''That''s it!'' I realized ''Twilight!''


    <<"Wipe that idiotic look off of your face!">>


    I know not if it was a blessing or a miracle, but the familiar signs of Amun''s development saved me from her wrath at the last moment. As quickly as her hand snapped up, her neck twisted toward the viscous necrotic energy pouring from the eyes of the pale king like magma. His skin rotted away as the molten fires fell from his eyes first, then from the undead around him in a spreading wave. The energy pooled and poured from their laps like great falls that gathered in the cracks of the various glyphs, adding a cacophony of throbbing hums as they activated in sequence around the focus circle, emitting a majestic glow to reflect from the multifaceted ceiling as they became self-sustaining.


    It glowed brighter and burned hotter as it cascaded towards the center, draining everything from the live husks until the fires in their eyes tapered off, and they began to crumple in pairs. Two. Then four. Then eight and then sixteen. The last drops of that blue-green liquid dripped from their sockets and flowed along the glyphs in the floor until they were but ash and bone, leaving a square of four undead with burning fires in their eyes to maintain the Glyph of Stability. The same undead he was tinkering with earlier. Metal-boned zombies of water, ice, steam, and lightning.


    In anticlimactic fashion, however, there was no explosion of ethereal fire or haunting visions when the energy flowed into him and Zaraxus. Only a wreathe of blue-green fire faded as he stood, baring his devilish grin to the realms.


    <<"The final Necrotic Ki Pond has opened?">> I eagerly approached, spurred on by the combined forces of genuine excitement and the intense desire to distance myself from the High Matron.


    Luckily, Amun was excited too. "A perk with a domain effect, and a new passive nature to my Ki." He commented in the Common Tongue.


    <<"What is it?">> I felt the hot breath of Matron Etyl behind me.


    "Consume the Living." He cryptically replied, then made a strange clicking sound with his tongue.


    The room exploded into movement at the call. The owls flew over to perch on Amun''s shoulder just as the four zombies abandoned their glyph to make for the exit. Meanwhile, the fox and wolves reared up to claw inter-dimensional rifts into space and leap through while the Head repositioned itself to our side, seemingly to watch Amun smoke.


    <<"Why do you stall?">> Matron Etyl shouted after a few long moments.


    Amun sighed with unbridled patience. "Because now isn''t the time to strike, Etyl. Calm down, alright. I know what I''m doing."


    The High Matron began to shout out a reply, only to be cut off by Amun reaching into a pit of shadow. "Just put these on and try not to be noticed."


    That got a proper scowl out of her. Yet the black and gold ring thrown to her shortly after kept any venom from spewing through her tongue, choosing instead to utter another detection spell before a curious glint flashed across her eye.


    <<"Light! Heheha! >> Matron Etyl gasped hysterically, just as I slipped the ring over my finger and saw my vision turn black. <<"Light that causes no pain! Twilight!">>


    My sight returned a moment later. However, stuck within my field of view was a sphere of absolute darkness rimmed by golden light. It morphed and stretched as I stared, forming a... window of sorts. Or a mirror that showed me and the High Matron from the perspective of those floating eyes- the Satellites, staring at us as they drifted around Amun.


    "Now then." The Elven Devil rose to his feet with a wicked grin. "Let''s give these intruders a proper welcome."


    ***


    Blude.


    ***


    "You think he''ll kill them all?"


    Without looking up or over, I shrugged without a care. "It''s their fault for not leaving him alone."


    That was the truth and I hated it. Things were so different in Bakewia. In Winwell, at least. No one there had the power to fight so it never even crossed their minds. Not that they wanted to in the first place, given everything Ed''s done for them. But here, and in places where people fought all the time, they seemed excited to turn their blades on Amun the moment they saw him.


    The realization that I wasn''t so different was¡­ painful.


    It felt like a lifetime ago. I remember so much fear when I saw him for the first time. We made so many assumptions. We agreed to rash decisions that could have cost us our lives. Not to say he would have killed us. But I doubted we would have survived on our own if we turned tail like we planned. Perhaps the only difference between us and them was their foolishness and strength in comparison to ours. We were wise and weak while they were unwise and strong, thus they stood against him. But even then, just like them, we hardly gave him a chance.


    I was ashamed to think it took this long to consider his feelings during that time. Only after I trained with that old drow and traveled across Shujen did I even consider how it felt to have others see someone in such a light. Yet, he smiled through it all, treating others the same regardless of their species or station. He helped us. He fed us. He housed us. He educated us. He gave us power. Yet¡­


    "What have done to repay him?" It was a mumble, but it carried through the waters of Shujen Bay like a roar all the same. So the others turned on their coral outcrops to look at me with raised brows, and I pressed on. "He''s done everything for us. In return, we''ve done nothing but ask for things. And here he is, making himself a monster to do the same for these two. I want to be an example to them. And I want to repay Amun for everything he''s done for us a hundred times over. We owe him our lives."


    With that, the small face hovering at the edge of my vision brightened just before Iris'' voice rang in my head. {"e doesn''t want you to.''}


    "I don''t care, Iris!" I shouted. "I''m going to find a way to, whether he likes it or not!"


    "How?" Redd asked.


    "I¡­ I dunno."


    "Well, we''re still building the resort, right?" Redd asked. "We can open it up to his guild, or something. I dunno."


    "No." I sat up straight. "No¡­ that''s it! We can provide entertainment for the Legions in their off time, hidden beneath the sea. And we can do what was done for us too. Teach those in poverty to fend for themselves; get them on their feet enough to survive on their own. On top of that, I''ll make sure these two do the same." I looked at the windows hovering around me. One, sharing what Iris was seeing, was a picture of a huge man with boyish features. Or, at a closer glance, he just looked like a huge boy maybe a year or two older than me. The other coincided with the map of glowing lines around me. Showing a girl who was a bit bigger than me, shivering in the forest with a bunch of wolves.


    {Order: Extraction.}


    "This is our first job." I sighed, swimming to float above the sea floor. "Let''s try not to fuck it up."

 293 - Consume the Living

    Loud footsteps and bassy voices echoing from the staircase prompted High Matron Etyl and I to meld into the comforting embrace of the shadows and watch the four draugr scatter around the room to play dead, aided in all senses through the means of this strange device. It was as if I were standing right there, crouched low to the ground, staring at Amun''s back while he approached the entrance, pivoted just at the door, and transitioned to walk up the wall and sit patiently above the threshold.


    Within moments, a small figure could be seen snaking across the ground, dipping and swaying their hooded head with the utmost caution until they finally moved behind a pillar and stood to the laughable height of a meter, then turned to wave their companions in.


    The party entered bearing torches raised high enough to lick the Elven Devil above the door with their flames but none seemed wise enough to turn their eyes up as they entered. Humans. Elves. Dwarves. They were so high and mighty they could never look up. Not until it was too late. That was a running joke amongst our kind that Amun seemed to be aware of, noted by the silent grin that spread across his face before the perspective shifted, giving me a clear view of the invading party. Somehow without being seen.


    Besides the halfling rogue, they all were devoted to some deity. Directly behind the half of a man was a heavily armored figure boasting an overcompensating sword and a holy symbol of metallic eight dragon heads; a paladin of Bahamut, standing back-to-back against a skittish cleric of the same pantheon. Two fighters were posted in a similar formation near the entrance. Both were shrouded in the inked markings of the Marulean God of War, with shields, but one with sword and the other with spear.


    The true prize, however, was centered between the two pairs¡ªa clerical surface elf, devoted to Caelarin. Born from the Queen Demon Spider herself, The High Matron''s bloodlust poured into the air, manifesting as a haunting cacophony of a million tugged strings that scritched and scratched at the little elf girl''s mind. I was used to the grating sound. By the sounds of her feet sliding trepidatiously across the ice, I assumed she was not. She knew one of Lilith''s Matrons was near. Thus she, and by extension the party, remained blind to the Elven Devil lying in wait with the maleficent calmness of a Darkworld predator.


    My second field of view shifted once again. This time, it rose to watch Amun mirror their steps from the ceiling, an amused smile spread across his face as the rogue stuffed his pockets with the gold and trinkets left lying around. Then it shifted to Zaraxus'' throne to stare at the party as a whole before focusing on three sets of eyes glowing with divine light.


    "So many undead. Powerful undead. Draugr. All of them. Except that one." The cleric of Bahamut shuddered, pointing at the skeleton of metal bones. "I''ve never seen such a thing."


    "A fiend is among us." Grunted the paladin after scanning his glowing eyes about the room. "A devil."


    "Wait!" The surface elf whined. "B- by Caelarin''s word, a Drow Matron is about, and a Unicorn Slayer to boot. But¡­ I also sense a¡­ Fae?"


    I found myself staring at a mirror as the words repeated soundlessly off both my and High Matron Etyl''s lips. ''Fae?'' she signed, inflicting as much confusion as I would have through the snapping motions of her fingers. Only, they continued, snapping and flicking a soundless prayer to her vile Goddess.


    Her eyes widened in shock as much as they glared crimson with the power of a divine detection spell. But then the former faded, revealing a visage of utter shock to an otherwise empty crowd. ''He is¡­ everything. Fae. Fiend. Divine. Wicked. Undead, and yet alive. He is mana itself!'' She signed ever faster. But a shrieking voice interrupted any more signals.


    "There! It''s him!"


    My eyes snapped to the cleric, pointing to the ceiling like a child while Amun pounced. He was on the ground before their heads canted upward, crouching while the cleric yammered on about their target being the source of the conflicting signatures. A volley of divine spells and javelins crashed or bounced off the ceiling an instant later. But an eon seemed to pass before their eyes fell; and when they did, this enchantment forced me to stand in their place to witness it.


    Time slowed to a crawl at that moment. More so, it seemed our senses melded, mine and the Cleric. I found myself looking down at a brown-skinned drow returning an amiable smile to my abject horror. Yet, I stared into the midnight-black sclera of his eyes. They were unblinking, those eyes, birthing a curiosity that forced me to stare deeper into the draconic pupils set inside pure white irises. In return, those eyes read upon my essence- my soul- like a book.


    It was a comedy, I learned, as the twin rows of fiendish teeth pulled apart to laugh at the building despair of the clerical elf as she shouted. "What are you!?"


    Though the crash of a second volley superseded her cry of desperation, this enchantment made it feel as if she had screamed in my ear. It even overpowered the sound of the brambles she sprouted beneath her foe, thorny, disgusting fibers that wrapped around Amun''s legs, and shuddered at the feeling of his foul blood pouring over them.


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    Despite detesting the contact, the brambles held him in place all the same, allowing the halfling rogue''s dagger to sink into Amun''s kidney without resistance. The success of the stealthy attack caused mana to pool into the wound as the blade was withdrawn, sealing the wound with vibrant energy for but a moment before it sheared, ripped, tore, and carved a much deeper and wider wound than the small blade would permit possible.


    The fighters followed, slashing into Amun''s front thricely before stabbing him through with his sword, shield bashing, and leaping away, opening up the space for Bahamut''s cleric to raise her hands and shout some nonsense about the light of justice. Still reeling, Amun paid her little mind, instead focusing a curious eye on the Paladin''s bastard sword and the remaining fighter''s spear, glowing with divine light, even as they ran him through.


    The ease of their battle seemed to shock the paladin the most, given the way they backpedaled with more haste than the fighter next to them. Yet their reactions were otherwise the same. Uncertainty. Fear. Disbelief. Disgust. All of the above and more shifted their visages while they watched the brambles dissipate, freeing Amun to sink to his feet and cough up a pool of blood while the life drained from his eldritch eyes. Some covered their mouths and coughed as if the stench was unbearable. The rogue even began frantically swiping at the blood on his arm. None were prepared for the turning tide.


    When the necrotic fires of ki rose from the underworld to knock six times against this reality, I was prepared and held firm. Thus I intently watched the foul energy spread across the floor, echoing another six knocks before cascading back to the center to knock six more times and open that dreaded maw of reaching hands.


    Bahamut''s paladin reacted first, turning about as if they had been blinded while Caelarin''s cleric shouted repeatedly for someone to answer her, despite the fighter''s desperate shouting to kill the advancing drow as they fumbled with their weapons.


    The ground cracked as Amun advanced, closing the distance to Bahamut''s paladin near the rear with a basic punch that caved in the proud symbol etched into their steel chest plate. They tumbled to their knees with a feminine cry while Amun danced around to catch up to her rear, swinging his foot into her helmeted temple before he followed through with a spine-shattering axe kick for good measure. The resulting crack was deafening enough to demand stillness in every corner of the room. Save one place.


    The newly felled corpse began convulsing the moment Amun lifted his foot from the mangled armor, yet Amun hardly waited. Skipping with the Wind, he leaped up and kicked off a pillar in a blur of motion, propelling himself down to land in the center of the other four hexed combatants. While the lonely rogue fumbled with his wits against the grasping hands, Amun''s fists blazed with the activation of Furious Blows as he rose to his full height, gracing Caelarin''s cleric with six armor-denting impacts against her left side in rapid succession. She was writhing and on her way down by the third nearly gut-wrenching blow, clearing enough space for blades and shields to slash and bash Amun repeatedly.


    Amun, however, paid them little mind, closing the opening Bahamut''s cleric thought he''d been given to heal Caelarin''s cleric; as he found the eldritch being''s leg shooting back to shatter his kneecap as he raced forward. Amun then stepped forward and pivoted to slam his now-skinless fists into the falling cleric''s helm, cracking his head back and releasing his mace to tumble overhead; once and then twice before a skinless hand plucked it out of the air and flung it powerfully into the downed cleric''s abdomen, crumpling him a dull thunk.


    By then, the rogue had regained his wits and fought against the reaching hands to turn towards the sounds of muffled screams. In triumphing, he first saw those dreadful eyes staring into his soul before his eyes flicked to the fiendish drow''s hands, clutched tightly around the two remaining fighter''s faces. The comparatively massive humans kicked their feet helplessly and poked and prodded Amun with short swords and daggers. All to no avail. Their movements grew labored and their bodies soon grew too weak to hold their weapons while Amun lifted them as high as possible as if to show the halfling his grievous wounds healing over. A pitiful gasp escaped the rogue''s lips before he forced his little eyes to turn madly. They scanned the room for the exit with the utmost desperation. Only for the withering bodies of his comrades to reveal the door beyond his foe. It was louder than the destruction of a glass city, the sound of the rogue''s spirit shattering to dust.


    The dull thud of knees against ice accented the sharp clamor of weapons and armor clattering against the floor. An acrid smell followed, spreading across the room from a source that coincided with the sudden wet spot on the rogue''s pants. If there were any sounds of dripping fluids, however, they were muted by the cracks and pops of shifting bones and joints. Sounds that inevitably brought the weeping rogue''s eyes back to the shifting mass of flesh and bone that was Amun.


    Much to his horror and our surprise, Amun began convulsing along with the corpses. Albeit to a much lesser degree. His face remained placid while every fiber of his musculature writhed and spasmed violently. His back arched in pain, yet he remained standing on his feet until the fighters were naught but dry husks of flesh and bone.


    The corpses fell to spasm like the rest. Amun fell with them. Down to his knee, where he silently endured the pain of his physiology being pushed past his natural limits to reach the supernatural realm.


    I could not begin to imagine what it was like to have my body destroy and repair itself a dozen times per second to make up for the absurd strength I forced it to wield. But like seemingly everything, Amun took it with little issue.


    When he rose a few seconds later, he was perhaps a few centimeters taller and wider. But when he looked down and smiled at the lone rogue, he seemed all the more menacing. Enough to put a grin on my and the High Matron''s face. However, the intense stillness that should have been was ruined by a cacophony of convulsing corpses who, one by one, burst into ethereal blue-green flames and jumped to their feet.


    With guttural huffs, they started tearing at their chests with wild abandon. Breastplates and helmets were torn away viciously and carelessly tossed around the room to be forgotten. Even some of their clothes were. Not that undead cared for such things. And so, with exposed genitalia and all, they poured their combined malice onto the lone rogue while the wickedly grinning living lich guided them away from the door, permeating a deathly whisper through the cavern that held one, soul-grating word.


    "Run."

 294 - Run

    The words were not aimed at us. High Matron Etyl and I knew that much, yet we found ourselves running up the stairs all the same. Eagerly, we followed the Elven Devil, skipping behind the five zombies who were in turn giving chase to the tiring rogue.


    The halfling made it not halfway before the zombies intercepted him with basic if not well-practiced martial arts. When he fell, though, there were no convulsions. Instead, the zombies continued up the stairs, and Amun picked up the fresh corpse as easily as a basket of fungus. His super-draugr stepped through the solid ice walls moments later, appearing by his side before they sprinted up the stairs. The rest of the draugr wound up behind us. Their eagerness for battle forced our pace to quicken. So much that we took to the skies to retreat far to the southeastern shores of the peninsula, choosing instead to use this advanced scrying to watch the proceed in safety. Although, I had the strong assumption that the High Matron was attempting to experiment with the range of this device.


    I had to admit, it was useful, if not distracting. In this situation, however, I could focus on two separate things; in that way, it was a bit like a play seen from impossible angles. In this case, it was from above. With my physical eyes, I looked down at the five figures as a bird would. Yet I could see every detail of their pale bodies, sprinting across a field of white spread beneath the pale blue glow of the sky. Then, my scrying eyes lifted, revealing ice, ice, and more ice before spears and shields held by the armies of men occupied the entirety of the little window. It even estimated the numbers of the assembled humans, halflings, dwarves, and elves, counting nearly 30,000.


    Never before had we seen the humans of Shujen gathered in such numbers. Never has it been told of them uniting against an enemy, much less a sole individual. Yet here they were, pushed by fear into uniting with those they pointed blades at mere months ago. It was an event that would remain in the annals of the Bodhi Tree''s history for ages to come. And so, for a time, I found myself of a like mind with my mother. Like her, I was eager to see the extent of the Champion''s power.


    With the humans focusing on the familiar bodies following the approaching rogue, their lines held firm. Meanwhile, Amun stood a few hundred meters away with the rest of his undead, muttering some strange somethings in an even stranger language while the one he called Zaraxus slung his arm behind him with minimal effort.


    A dense wave of magic flowed in the wake of his passing hand, shattering the fields of ice into a fine mist that ejected toward the sky as the waves of Shujen Bay began to churn once more. Even from our physical bodies, we could see the plume rise to immeasurable heights before it finally met its apex and descended as gelid rain. From the scrying, however, we could see the exotic undead fitting a blue-white ring around his finger while Amun held his palm towards the sky.


    "New Moon!" Those words coupled with some unheard mutterings saw twin waves of arcana pour into Amun''s palm and shoot skyward in a helical beam of silver and purple, pulling all pairs of eyes to the sky, away from the wave of black and gold tendrils that sunk into their feet.


    Based on the mana being absorbed by his spirit, I assumed the entirety of his Mana Well had been deposited into that globe of deep purple and silvery-blue energy that soon formed above. Whatever it was, it grabbed ahold of the falling rain, at first leaving the material suspended before it started drifting towards the globe; slowly at first, then faster and faster until it collapsed with the aggregating mass at the center.


    It was a sight that removed any notion of battle from all present minds. Everyone seemed to be transfixed on the cosmic dance of ice and rock; billions of particles, spinning around a larger piece of material until they impacted spectacularly. Somehow giving it the strength to pull more significant quantities of ice and rock towards its core until most of the Bay''s ice behind Amun was gone and a great divine snowball loomed above the silent masses.


    Their silence was broken by the sound of horrendous cracks and pained screams seconds later, yet many eyes remained at the object above, frozen in awed fear as the silver-blue hue of the massive sphere shifted to an unsettling red. Those who looked down soon met the gaze of the blood-red rock, however, as its light shone on their minds and spirits as much as the land, meddling with them in ways similar to the webs in drow minds. Similarly, those who kept their eyes raised soon noticed the fresh corpses rising towards the¡­ third sun, settling in place to eclipse the rising sun.


    Then, they heard the screams.


    Although they had the element of surprise and killed several people, the martial undead were cut down in no time, and the tens of thousands remaining were on the march, shielded by a wall of arrows as their units maneuvered around the semi-frozen Bay.


    unflinchingly, Amun faced the curtain of arrows descending on him and activated a domain spell using that purple mana. It spread to a radius of 5 meters, pulling any arrow it touched into a violent spiral of swarming steel. With so many, it was not long before it formed a dome of arrows, and so the purple mana flared, ejecting clustered columns of arrows at all angles toward the front line to shatter raised shields and pierce armored chests.


    Many fell and soon ascended to that rock, but no real damage was done to their army. Instead, I realized, Amun aimed to halt the charge, And with that accomplished, Amun turned his grin toward the source of our scrying device and reached out. Electricity soon danced around his hand, seeming to crack space itself apart to allow a strangely designed hand crossbow to materialize and spin deftly across the spread units, firing fire six shots in rapid succession.


    For whatever reason, the little window split the moment Amun fired the crossbow. One showed the bolts themselves while the other showed a geometrical crystal shaking each time the weapon was fired, revealing a different sigil on each face that a small text revealed to be numbers. It happened so fast, I would have only been able to read them, were it not for the scale of the effect.


    The first bolt- numbered 18, was imbued with steel-gray mana that slowed its arc through the air, giving those in its path ample time to raise their shields. Only for them to crumple beneath the bolt as if it boasted an immense weight. The second and fourth bolts, numbered 2, arced out much faster, manifesting as green streaks of mana that pierced through dozens of humans, shields, and armor before they disappeared through the ice below. The third, numbered 15, trailed a bluish mana that befell the ranks of countless men, forcing crystalline protrusions to grow from every part of their bodies until they were encased in a tomb of gemstones, leaving a glittering trail that stretched from the middle of the Bay to its shores. The fifth, numbered 17, left a similar trail of rust-brown magic that dragged a flock of weapons and a stampede of armored humans behind it, disorganizing the human ranks and leaving many of them disarmed; but as devastating as that, and the others were to the human''s ranks, it was tame in comparison to the last bolt.


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    It was fired after the shortest delay after Amun looked at the number and frowned, then aimed the crossbow high above the ranks and fired. It sailed faster and further than any bolt before it. Yet,  Amun paid it no mind, storing the exotic crossbow inside a dark cloud with a dejected aura.


    I wondered why a roll of 1 of all things could be the cause for his sudden dour mood, and thus focused my attention on the bolt arcing down towards the center of the armies, unknowing of the dark clouds rising from my feet or the vast domain encompassing the Bay. Nor did my True Self notice, for I had his gaze focused on Amun and the few humans pressured into charging him. Many more organized into flanking maneuvers while a few more retaliated with a small volley of spells until they were reminded who they were up against. A drow. A child of the Fae, who had innate spell resistances. The swirling vortex of mana that always accompanied him flowed in the wake of his casual swipes, disrupting or dismantling many spells before they even came near him.


    Smiling ever wider, Amun held his hand out before him and the air began sparking with electricity again, soon solidifying into a beautiful three-section staff that revolved ever so slowly around him. But he did not grab it. Instead, he raised his arms high and wide, palms skyward, just as even those least attuned to magic felt the power building within the falling bolt I had been focusing on.


    An eerie silence soon spread across the battlefield once more as a golden light shined above, seeming to amplify the sudden crack of the small bolt breaking apart just several seconds before it hit the gathered armies. Thus releasing the sun itself.


    My panic was met with relief once the dark clouds, infused with a divine golden light, embraced me. Relief turned to gratitude when I realized the source of this magic, which soon lessened once I saw the dark cloud of gold surrounding Matron Etyl as well. But then, sheer disbelief came over me as a distant heat encompassed half of my body. Yet, desperate to see its effect, I turned towards the light regardless.


    It was¡­ humbling, seeing such a large fireball burst from something so small. The lucky ones were those closest to the blast; the closest meaning those standing within a few hundred meters of the bolt. They were vaporized to dust. Obliterated in an instant unlike those further back. Just as quickly, they found their armor melted to their bodies and their weapons dripping around their hands; or if they were a kilometer or two away, saw their leathers become charred and the wood in their weapons ignite along with their hair. Those even further back were severely burned and many more were blinded. But even that was tame in comparison to what came after.


    The shockwave crawled across the partially Bay like an ethereal monster. The thick sheet of ice stretching to the shore was nothing against it. It shattered into a tidal wave of fine powder that soon glistened red as it swept across the human lines like an avalanche spawned from the Hells. The water behind Amun was hardly better off, evaporating or outright dispersing into an oppressive mist that seemed to desperately chase the tidal wave ripping across the Bay. Thousands fell in an instant, yet thousands more were simply tossed into a mangled mess by the force of the blast. The only survivors, it seemed, were those on wide flanking maneuvers, those near the shore, and the rear detachment near the castle. Their despair was palpable. Moreover, it only increased once the charred and ruptured bodies of the fallen began to rise around the giant mushroom-shaped cloud, clearing the Bay to reveal the fiendish drow who caused such destruction, sprinting across the choppy waters with his three-section staff revolving around him.


    The central piece was undoubtedly adamantine, but the other sections were of a metal unknown to me. I could only tell it was not steel, mithral, or adamantine, but that was beside the point. The magical energy it radiated was immense.


    I leaned forward in anticipation as Amun approached the line, gripping the weapon to bring it into motion as an elf approached, sword raised in a horizontal block. A foolish move against such a weapon. Predictably, Amun stretched his arm out just before the weapon came down. Extending the reach enough for the center staff to rattle against the sword, leaving the end piece with nowhere to go except down. Right into the elf''s spine.


    A deafening crack amidst the roar signaled his defeat. But those close by saw a gruesome shape protrude from his chest before he was thrown forward toward Amun, who reduced their head to a red mist as he spun the weapon around to slam against an armored opponent''s chest, where it¡­ broke.


    The staff glowed blue and shattered as much as the knight''s armor crumpled and was stained red, but it regrew just as fast. The broken pieces seemed excited about their fate, as they glowed with vibrant blue mana before scattering across the area, carrying sweeping arcs of lightning in their wake that fried anyone not pelted by the absurdly dense shards of whatever metal the weapon was composed of.


    As before, chaos ensued and subsequently died out in a field of electricity, bloody mist, and mangled humans raining towards the skies. Prompting a more bloodied Amun to Skip with the Wind towards the next crowd, exchanging his staff for a finely made spear of a truly nefarious make. Only to toss it into the eclipsed sky so that it could be gripped by the darkness itself and sweep through the ranks with glee. It hacked away while Amun displayed his newly awakened super-strength by engaging in unarmed combat, thinning the ranks until only a few remained in that area, wherein Amun grasped the weapon and somehow turned it into a scythe capable of hacking through souls, turning them into wraiths, specters, ghosts, boogeymen, and poltergeists that scattered across the lands to wreak havoc.


    Such tactics continued for hours as the armies worked to regroup and tried foolishly to outmaneuver a monk. From one group to the next, Amun Skipped with the Wind, switching weapons whilst engaging in a glorious display of drowian acrobatics, strength, martial arts, and athleticism as he danced across the fields, dealing death until none in the immediate area remained.


    Eventually, though, he seemed to either grow bored or begin toying with his opponents. Or, he was simply exploring his abilities. He changed tactics and began using that silver-blue magic to anger the seas. With humans being able to manipulate the elements, however, he found little success. Granted, they could not individually manipulate water as well as he. But combined, they were a force to be reckoned with.


    Seeming to find the simplest solution, Amun gave up on the tug of war and flashed the water to a cloud of scalding steam. Then used the cover to pick off as many as he could until they tried to turn that against him as well. They kept him occupied with spells and arrows while others clothed the distance with blades and spells. It seemed to work, as Amun suffered blows from fists and blades alike, but not without returning the damage. Not by Ki, but a bite to the elbow of a barbarian.


    He howled in pain, then seemed to yelp in confusion before meeting Amun''s eldritch eyes, and the moment the hulking man began to panic, Amun jerked his head back, pulling not flesh from the body, but an ethereal arm, bitten clean off by the jagged teeth in the Elven Devil''s jaw.


    As anyone would, they leaped back in horror and wept at their arm, withering into a decrepit, useless thing. They pleaded with the clerics and witches with increasing desperation as they tried and failed time and time again to restore him, pulling their focus away from the wicked energy pouring from Amun until it was too late. When they finally turned, they saw not the Elven Devil standing amidst the backpedaling barbarians, but a shell of fleshy darkness wreathed in golden, unholy light; radiating a voice of pure dread that echoed in the soul of every mortal present, including mine.


    "You people of Shujen know me as the Undying Reaper; you Drow know me as the Destroyer; both of you misunderstand me, so let me clarify things for you. I am the Elven Devil. My name is Amun, the Twenty-Fifth Child of the Nox, and I am the Supreme Void Imp. Now look upon my works, ye mighty; and despair!"

 295 - Audacity

    "Did he say, Supreme¡­ Void¡­ Imp?"


    I could not answer High Matron Etyl. Nor could I hear the skull attempt to describe the strange sight before me. Every soul present was petrified; locked in the most primal state of fear capable of existing in the minds of mortals. The slaughter- no, the destruction ceased; forced into stillness by the vilest energy to befall the Mortal Plane.


    Even from here, I could feel it. A mindless malevolence that promised a perpetually unchanging emptiness. The Void, personified as a black ball of tarry flesh gilded in unholy light; undulating and waving as whatever creature within went against its nature by undergoing a rapid change.


    When that change was complete, white webs cracked along the surface with the soul-piercing intensity of a whisper, shattering the now-solid sphere into unseen fragments and a solitary figure that put a small crater in the shores as it landed, despite it hardly being off the ground in the first place. But it- Amun, stood without issue.


    He stood half his former height, but his eyes were the same. White and draconic. Yet, that same white glow was present at the corners of his hairline, appearing like stretch marks around a pair of large bumps. Just like the marks within the long claws on his webbed hands and feet, and the fine tunic beneath his skin-tight clothes of semisolid darkness. And he had a tail. Thin, but tipped in a chevroned barb that flicked menacingly with blinding speed.


    "Oho! So-it''s-like-this, huh?" He laughed in a high-pitched reel of nearly incomprehensible words, and his movements were just as fast. Causal motions were a blur of black against white, making him seem to stand amidst a flickering aura, somehow smiling or moving his hands to his eyes and back to his sides without making any apparent movements.


    Moving dramatically slow yet blindingly fast, he made a swimming motion to ascend to the skies, where he let out a cackling howl of wicked laughter before swimming toward the remaining few units in a blur of darkness and wicked laughter. His claws, abyssal black with white blades, hardly left marks as they bounced off of steel yet were nimbly quick enough to snake under plates to lacerate, disembowel, behead, stab, or disarm the disorganized ranks. No blood poured from their wounds, however. Akin to the man Amun bit, their flesh withered and shriveled by the second, leaving them despairing amidst their scrambling comrades while the few who could keep up with his speed raced to catch up with him, launching everything from arrows to spells both precise and wide-reaching.


    One of the few elves was among them, gaining some zeal as the void imp valuted through the trees. An arrow of green mana was sent through Amun''s leg, sprouting a writhing mass of brambles to hold him. The apparent opening encouraged the rest, given the intensity they launched their spells, creating an auspicious moment for the engaging force when the brambles began to wither against his fiendish skin.


    Following the elf''s lead, a human shot a lance of fire through Amun''s other leg, yet the magical blade remained impaled in his leg, radiating a blinding light that guided the volley of lances streaming behind it. With two others matching his speed, they barreled into his abyssal body with reckless abandon, making the Elven Devil scream out in pain for the first time since our initial meeting. He darted and waved in an attempt to escape and scramble the mana yet found he had little control over such things in his state. Thus he remained unguarded from the massive earthen hammer materializing and swinging into him.


    I thought he was finished as he tumbled through the air like a heavy stone. As did his enemy, for they seemed satisfied to watch him impact the shores less than a hundred meters away from their cannons, leaving craters as he bounced to a halt; even going as far as laughing when the last bounce left him staggering on his feet, only to send him crashing down onto his back.


    Their mirth evolved into an outright cheer as the seconds passed, then a full-on celebration once that foul stench disappeared; short-lived though it was. In the following moments, some began to weep as they turned their eyes to the relatively few survivors and remembered the thousands vaporized, ignoring the calls of their commanders attempting to regroup. Witches and recovery mages sprang forth from the back, desperate to heal the wounds they detected from afar, only to fall into despair when they saw those with pieces of their souls missing.


    Just as quickly as it began, it seemed to have ended for the barbarians of Shujen. Yet we could see the gilded darkness rising from below to sink into Amun, burning the last bits of wickedness from his form. The markings faded to nothing and the tail dissipated into darkness, leaving the sharp-toothed drow I''d come to know rising from his crater to face the rows upon rows of cannons with half-lidded eyes.


    To their credit, there was no wasted time among the barbarians. The first one to spot Amun fired and the rest followed suit. Some did not even aim their weapons, apparently thinking it better to let loose and compensate on the next shot. They never got one. Like the arrows at the start of this chaos, Amun sent out a wave of his purple magic, sending the cannonballs whirling around his body before releasing them at twice the speed across the batteries. Then he looked to his feet.


    "Alright, Lana. I almost died for real that time so you''re up. You know the rule."


    "Yeah, yeah. No civilians. You didn''t exactly give me much to play with, though."


    "Next time."


    The undying woman of darkness let out a little giggle, then released a maniacal laugh as Amun''s shadow widened, allowing countless zombies, skeletons, and shadows to step between him and the barbarians. But it was those like her who were the most formidable.


    They held every power one could think of whether they be affinities or classes. The first one- Lana, flew into a barbaric rage the moment she came within range of someone, using her absurd strength to rip them apart with her hands before she went on the prowl. Meanwhile, Amun simply¡­ walked.


    He casually strode through the chaos on a path towards the castle, easily avoiding the many martial undead felled from his ki, fighting what remained of the opposition. His expression was mute as he watched his shadows hunt down the retreating or surrendering barbarians with extreme prejudice, yet he tracked his skeletons blockading the city with sharp intent. His focus was unbendable amidst this chaos; unlike ours.


    When High Matron Etyl gathered her wits and dragged me into the city, all had gone quiet. The surviving humans took it upon themselves to barricade themselves in their homes to watch the lone figure standing before the castle. He did not seem to notice us upon our arrival, but he began shifting regardless, removing an as-of-yet-unseen spear from its rest on his shoulder to begin spinning it around so that the sling attached to the butt end picked up a little more snow, ice, and rock with each pass. Then it was launched.


    A horrendous whistle- a screech that could put a banshee to shame announced its departure. Yet the resulting crash was something few creatures could replicate. The comparatively small mass of rock and ice punched neatly through the wall and waited a split second before releasing its energy. There seemed to be no resistance. Just a plume of icy dust that blocked the view of stone falling to touch the ground for the first time in centuries. But the whistles kept coming.


    Again and again, Amun threw the accelerated rocks into the wall, sometimes curving them impossibly to the sides or the rear until all that remained was a castle sitting atop a mound of rubble. Then he continued his walk, paying little mind to the many corpses strewn about as he approached the last standing section of the wall. Through our little windows, though, we saw three different scenes playing out.


    On one, we saw the rotund Gerdian, Blude, dragging a massive barbarian through the deep waters of Shujen Bay with the utmost ease. Her companions remained close behind her, fighting off a few humans close on their tails until they breached the water like great whales and took to the skies, swimming in the same way as Amun in his Imp form while their pursuers looked helplessly from the surface. On another, we saw the smaller girl, Iris, dragging another massive human through the air as she flew through some unseen force I knew not she had. And then there was the Death Jarl.


    Zaraxus effortlessly guided his blade through all eighty royal guards, rendering them wilted corpses with the most shallow of cuts as he made a path towards the rulers of Shujen''s surface and the esteemed warriors guarding them. Once there, he tossed his weapon aside and proceeded to crush skulls, rip limbs, pry hearts, and tear flesh while the decrepit king and the withered queen looked on in horror.


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    When all that was left was them and the new king, Zaraxus tossed the former rulers aside and stepped back after placing an item on the royal dais. His shrunken lair, once reduced to the shape of a ring, then expanded to form his new lair. Rather than watch it take shape, however, he kicked and tossed the King and Queen to the side of every group of fallen guards so they could watch them be born anew. Then, with a company of new draugr ranked and filed behind him, they marched to the edge of that final standing wall and stepped over it.


    There was no crash when they landed. Only a gentle breeze coupled with a short march to Amun''s side, wherein the former rulers were forced to their knees and the Death Jarl leaned back on his heels to bellow a victorious roar across the city.


    While the roar forced their wide eyes deeper into the ground, they hoped and quietly pleaded for their worthless lives to be spared. However, Amun''s eyes turned to the sky. Seconds passed; long seconds of sobbing shivers, howling winds, and shifting flesh. Then¡­ screaming. A scream of sheer terror echoed from the skies like the call of a predatory bird. Only, the birds were shaped like humans, and their prey was a pair of humans more than twice their size.


    They threw them like trash, sending them hurdling to the ground, but Amun cast a quick spell that lessened their speed, leaving them dangling in the air at his sides. They seemed young. Several years younger than me and Amun but a few years older than the girls, if barely. Siblings, undoubtedly. Born with the same broad, brutish faces and snarling eyes that bore holes at the beings that could only be their parents.


    "Why!?" Blude landed in a fire of red hair and white snow. "Why?" She repeated, screaming as she stalked to the king and queen, only to face about towards those hiding in their homes. "What did we do? Why did you keep attacking us? Him?" She pointed towards the Elven Devil, shocking us all; me, Matron Etyl, and even the enraged siblings and their parents.


    ''What a reaction. How naive.'' I silently mused, looking over the others as I did so. There was a shock in their eyes, of course. But to varying degrees, and far less than there should have been. But¡­ there was also anger. Disbelief. Not at Amun, but the barbarians. Yet, there was also humility, awe, and sadness written on their faces.


    "Many creatures tend to react to things that are different- to the unknown, with violence. That is not a trait exclusive to humanity. Humans only act on those impulses the most." Amun began in an almost solemn tone. "It is through no fault of their own, however. Such things are born naturally from a reality as harsh as ours. One where interacting with the unknown often warrants death. We become what this reality- what our environments and experiences, make us. The things that make us become the most familiar thing. The paradigm. The status quo. The thing that must be protected at all costs. And so, that which brings change is that which is opposed with the most fervor; for that threatens to remove the comforts of familiarity the most.


    "Like those in Bakewia." He gestured to the distance. "Some can see past what''s on the outside and give the unknown a chance, though the journey to do so is long. They are the ones who embrace the changing tides. Many others cannot." Amun sighed heavily, looking at the sphere of death floating above. "They are the ones who label those who are different, those with cultures or beliefs unaligned with their own, as evil. Monstrosities. Abominations. They are the ones who become broken when they lose those familiar things.


    "Those are the ones who hold the weights of good and evil with such ardor that the scale tips off the fulcrum. They become so convinced of living in the good light that they fail to realize they''ve plunged into the wicked night. Isn''t that right, my dear King Horas, Queen Frahna?"


    Amun leaning forward must have empowered the former rulers, for the King glared and the Queen spat at Amun, who merely laughed at the display before stepping aside to display their progeny.


    "Let this be your first lesson from me," Amun said. "Some people in these realms will seek to destroy all you know and love, simply because you exist. Simply because you''ve affiliated yourselves with me."


    "I know that already," Blude muttered, seemingly embarrassed.


    "I was talking to them." Amun clarified, staring at the two hulking siblings.


    <<"What, are you to be their guardian as well?">> High Matron Etyl spat in disgust.


    "I am, but only as a means to an end." He nodded distantly, much to my abject surprise. "The girl was a sickly child, despite her strength and size. So, her father, Horas, here, thought it best to throw her into the wilds to grow strong. In a crass way, it worked." He snorted out a laugh. "She survived by sneaking cattle away from farms and offering them to the wolves to gain their trust. That caught my interest. The boy was deemed weak for showing kindness to animals and only killing when needed. Thus he was tortured and punished daily by his mother dearest, Frahna." He looked at me during his short but meaningful pause, and I felt my heart freeze as he continued past the girls and the siblings.


    "Of all the voices in the Bodhi Peninsula, pleading to Mani, yours were the loudest, the most selfless, and the ones I''ll get along with the best. And so, I am here to grant your wish. I am here to free you; to teach and train you. I am here to bring you into my adventuring party, the Elven Devil¡¯s Troupe. We will roam the realms together for centuries and on through the millennia. However." Amun stepped towards the siblings before any of us, even High Matron Etyl, could speak. "As per the Rules of Death, Parricide or the killing of any blood-related kin is taboo. Doing so will forever taint your soul. You''ll be cursed regardless of my input.


    "Now, I couldn''t care less if you''re cursed or blessed or living or dead, it''s all the same to me, but this isn''t about me." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, towards the King and Queen and the celestial wolves, reduced to puppies. "Skoll and Hati have been eyeing you since the start of the year. They''ve taken a liking to you. Simultaneously, they wish to become something greater in death. They wish for you to as well. Not like this, though. They don''t want you to kill your parents, so they''ve decided to kill them for you. In other words, if you truly want to kill your parents, you''ll have to murder Skoll and Hati first; murder, because they refuse to fight you.


    "Now." Amun laughed in a way that was not funny. "I care deeply about these wolves. I''ve known them for nearly a decade and I''m only sixteen. So, if you kill them, I''ll not only curse you and your descendants for eternity, but you will replace them on my journey across the Mortal Plane and your parents will haunt you. Do with that information what you will."


    Their eyes fell as one, flicked between endless points on the ground as one, then rose to pour dissimilar motions into the crisp breeze; first, despair. "You will let them live!??" the boy sank, his face a broken mess of emotions hidden beneath his blonde hair while the girl thrashed in silence.


    "Not so." Amun shook his head with the calm indifference of a great wrym before a novice adventurer. "As I said, Skoll and Hati will kill them. I will then raise them as undead and put them in charge of the city as they once were. Only... better."


    "Over my dead body!" The girl growled.


    Amun mirrored her malice with a cold smirk and a snarky laugh as he threw an axe and a bow on the ground. "That can be arranged. So walk the walk."


    With those words, the gathered undead formed a ring around the twins and their progenitors, but not much happened for minutes. Until that is, the King and Queen grew encouraged enough to begin throwing insults at their children. The usual ones humans would use. Coward. Weakling. Justifications for their ''cruelties'' using the claim that it was to forge them into strong, suitable rulers or that it was once done to them as hidden traditions, but they were disappointments. Unimaginative, but effective.


    The girl moved first, exclaiming that if they would be cursed either way, it would be better to get the satisfaction of revenge. Yet, her body jerked and swayed with unease as she loosed arrow after arrow into the white wolf, who grew in size to shield her father until it fell minutes later, and her father soon after.


    That made the Queen laugh at the weakness of her son. A weakness that was so much greater than his frail sister''s. A weakness pointed out further as his axe blade pointed her way, only for a mass of black fur to stand on her chest and crush the words from her lungs. The massive blow nearly missed the black wolf entirely. It only sliced through the throat and veins of the neck, leaving enough force to cleave through the Queen''s ribs, silencing her forever and the wolf forever.


    "How fucking dare you."


    The words banged against reality like thunder echoing from a realm of perpetual storms; or rather, from a storm that was contained in the shape of a drow-devil, giving the being a glow of silver-blue light that belied the wicked words steaming from his abyssal tongue.


    With a rise of his hand and a stream of curses in that foul, devilish language, the souls of the departed wolves clambered from their corpses to flex and yawn in the divine light before they dashed toward the siblings, flowing into their bodies as I would mine when returning from a projection. Only, they thrashed. They seized. They writhed in ways that made the martial undead seem as if they were dancing when they were first raised.


    My morbid mind was utterly fascinated. Bones shifted and cracked in the most unnatural ways as their arms elongated, darkened, or brightened, and lit up with tribal markings along their chests. As their fingers and toes elongated into claws, their mouths followed, stretching into snouts that released animalistic groans to echo through the hearts of those watching through their windows, pushing them deeper inside to hide behind growing barricades of furniture. The exclamations of disgust, curiosity, and shock from those who watched on faded once Amun''s curses ran dry. Yet the changes to the twins'' bodies continued as the black and white tufts of fur on their new marks spread across their malformed bodies, forming billowing manes of fur as they finally reared back with a howl, and pounced.


    A heaping pile of raw meat that was not there before was the victim of their frenzied hunger. They devoured the carnivorous feast in mere gut-wrenching moments, leaving the massive wolf-humans surprisingly calm, if not jumpy. Their eyes of ice and fire darted everywhere as Amun approached with a few soft words and that divine silver light of his, calming their breathing and shedding their fur into clouds of ashen dust and snowy mist that blew away to reveal the human twins sleeping peacefully in the snow as if nothing happened.

 296 - Sage

    "W-what will¡­ h- happen t- to us?"


    Unlike me or the High Matron, Zaraxus cared not about the human- the only human to gain enough courage to exit their home- in the slightest. There was no emotion to his words, nor did the undead even look at him. Yet, his voice boomed with enough power to reach every pair of ears in the city no matter how deafened their ears were by the earlier explosion.


    "You have three choices. One: Pick up your arms and die. Two: Gather your belongings and leave. Three: Remain in this Necropolis and thrive. I care not what you do. But within my domain, you will be protected from the filth spread by the living; and when you die." The perpetually scowling undead pointed to his kin, already putting their unlimited stamina to use by rebuilding the city into a better version of what it was before.


    ---


    <<"What are you doing now?">> Matron Etyl asked with genuine interest nearly an hour after Zaraxus'' short address. Yet Amun kept tinkering with his undead as he had been doing since the Death Jarl relocated his lair and us to the floating rock- to the dusk moon above.


    It was an unsettling place that birthed an unsettling feeling. An icy sphere, populated only by neglected winds that howled in protest of their perpetual migration across snowy mountains and corpse-filled valleys. It felt like a great beast once appeared in this land if only to devour any semblance of society before they left the corpses to a food chain that never existed.


    I felt like an¡­ angel or some such as I landed on that world at Amun''s side. Like I was his agent, reporting in on a lost territory and lost members, but there was eagerness burning in my heart as he rang a strange necrotic bell, shaking the corpses awake and summoning many more to populate the moon with tens of thousands of zombies and surprisingly few shadows. Many of them were the martial undead raised by his Ki. The only ones, other than the shadows, to follow us. The others began doing what the living often dedicated themselves to, only better. They dove into construction, mining, refining, and many other crafts with the enthusiasm of an imbecile, throwing every ounce of energy at the simplest tasks.


    It was hard, splitting my split attention between what was ahead and what was passing us; massive worm-like machines that could bore through mountains in minutes, crystals that howled with the anguish of a thousand souls, buildings and outposts with strangely organic designs.


    I was unsure of what I was seeing, but I sensed this place- the moon itself- was somehow becoming¡­ something. Something that would be controlled from here, the summit of what Amun called the ''north pole.''


    <<"Zaraxus has earned a higher station.">> Came the absent-minded reply, yet it told the High Matron all she needed to know regardless.


    His flesh was currently¡­ off, allowing the hinges of his ribs to swing wide enough for Amun to sink both arms into the chest cavity and install enchantment after enchantment into the undead; and he was not the only one. Others were teleported to and from the place at a dizzying pace. Most of them draugr but several metal-armored skeletons and zombies of electricity or poison and other elemental types. They all received the same treatment Zaraxus was currently getting, wherein enchantments were carved and inlaid into his teeth, hands, pelvis, ribs, and sternum before they were sent elsewhere.


    <<"In truth, Zaraxus'' station should have improved already. Unfortunately, I only recently obtained the means to create enchantments. So, his station is to increase further. He was granted a magical weapon last year. He has his crown and that is his mount.">> Amun paused to gesture to the large spherical crystal- or egg, resting on a pedestal. <<It will hatch by midnight. With these, he grows from a Death Jarl to a Doom King. But these boons are late. Unlike the others.">>


    <<"Others?">> High Matron Etyl echoed, looking around the empty fields.


    Amun pulled himself from the ribcage and reached out to place his right thumb on Zaraxus'' brow, his other four fingers splayed across his jaw while his left hand mirrored the placement, putting his thumb on the naval and the fingers splayed across the chest. A practiced breath pulled that vile, unholy darkness from Amun''s core, forcing High Matron Etyl and me back a step before the wickedness surged into the undead, forcing us back again, then a third time once the scream of ecstasy reverberated through the cavern.


    The wicked energy poured Zaraxus'' bones as if uncountable pores littered its surface, secreting an oily ooze that seemed to solidify upon making contact with the air, wherein it morphed into nerves and sinew and ligaments and absurdly dense muscle of solid darkness that exuded a golden ichor, bringing multiple changes to the undead being.


    A long and slender appendage emerged from his tailbone. Long, serrated claws grew from the fingers and quickly reshaped into fleshy digits. His teeth sharpened into rows of jagged shards. White-marked horns of darkness sprouted from above his brow, curling back around his head like a ram''s, but no skin seemed to grow from the foul energy.


    Not until Amun released his hands to radiate his divine essence.


    Zaraxus'' crown, I realized, was like a catalyst for this power. With a single flick, an absurd amount of the painless silver-blue light flowed into Zaraxus from the head down, causing him to scream bloody murder as his old skin crackled into existence over his new flesh like ice-cold water on magma.


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    When the eternal moment was over for the creature, he quickly stood to bear his unrecognizable form. No longer was he a pale and emaciated being who radiated a deathly cold. His skin was now full, smooth, and only a bit pale. Healthily so. His body radiated strength, almost like that of a vampire with horns, but with silver-blue eyes that looked out at the realms much differently than they did mere moments ago; with no malice. Only¡­ indifference, perhaps; and unbridled intelligence.


    <<"Wicked Mana, as the energy used by devils is called, coupled with a blessing of the World Weaver, makes Zaraxus a Sovereign of Gloom. He is more cunning, wise, and intelligent than even the oldest liches across the realms. More importantly, he is now seen as neutral when divined upon.">>


    I turned to the High Matron, knowing she would test the claim, and her backpedal told me the claim was true, though I needed her not to verify. I could feel¡­ nothing, coming from Zaraxus, other than power of course. But no hostility, malice, or even a threatening aura; despite the glare he occasionally threw at us.


    However, Amun was still not done.


    <<"As far as I''m aware, no yield will come from me giving him more umbral or necrotic arcana. Therein lies the reasoning for his wicked and divine boons. But still." Amun flexed, pouring divine light across the environment. "There are more blessings to give. Blessings of the ArcaTech, the Owl, and the Eternal."


    More bursts of light. A deep blue akin to Iris'' tunic; the black and gold twilight; the blue-green of his arcana and necromancy; all painless energies to stare into. All, evidently, domains of Amun''s divinity that sent me spiraling into an internal debate while my eyes remained glued to the undead.


    There were hardly any changes to be seen on the outside. Only archaic, angular veins of divine blue light grew over his hands, running up his arms to his neck and face to form glowing rings around his temples. That, and a great set of black wings, reminiscent of an owl''s plumed from his back before disappearing just as fast. On the other hand, his spirit revealed something that would have been impossible to believe, had I not stared at it for minutes: a heart of arcana, pulsating beside the black heart formed from Amun''s wickedness. Beating each time its partner went to rest. Pumping, not wicked ichor into veins and arteries, but arcana through a circuit that was instantly recognizable to my eyes.


    <<"Blessings from my divine domains promote Zaraxus from a Sovereign of Gloom to an Umbra Emperor.">> Amun explained with more satisfaction than pride.


    I found myself stepping forward ignoring High Matron Etyl''s ire in light of this mind-breaking discovery. <<"And¡­ what does that accomplish?">> I asked, hardly attempting to control myself.


    <<"The blessing of the ArcaTech, the blue veins, allows him to communicate with and control the things created by him or me remotely. Devices and machines, including but not limited to forges, factories, workshops, Lore Skulls, and Uma''s. Plus, it makes it easier for him to learn and remember new things. As far as the other aspects.">> He gestured to the wings. <<"I''m sure you can see it for yourself. Now then.">>


    Almost eagerly, Amun conjured an ornate knife and stabbed himself in the gut, draining the exuberance- and life- from his face in an instant, in turn igniting the blue-green flames of his necrotic ki. Then, upon clasping his hands together, he replaced his hands on Zaraxus'' face and chest.


    In hindsight, I could never come to understand why the sight of meditating undead was declared insignificant to my brain. I saw them. For hours, I looked upon them. I even made mental notes about their behavior, thinking it was only a quirk of Amun''s monastic way. I even saw his ki raise undead yet I thought nothing of it. Then I saw that blue-green fire flowing seamlessly into Zaraxus'' ''mana heart'' and being pumped through the circuit, and I nearly lost my footing.


    ''Is this possible?'' High Matron Etyl signed, but I wanted to shout. Of course, it would work. The fact I never realized the signs hidden below my nose bothered me to no end, but shouting was the last thing I could do.


    ''Even under normal circumstances,'' I began flicking my fingers, ''Ki can easily be imbued into another creature. It is only a matter of the recipient''s ability to contain it without injury. That is why building the circuit, or the ''path,'' is necessary. Without it, the effect is no different from suffering a Stunning Strike. However, Zaraxus is undead, so necrotic ki would only empower him with no risk of injury, even without the path. So yes, it is possible, High Matron - to contain it, but not accumulate it in the way we can.''


    While everything I said was true, Amun''s Ki Ponds had yet to be opened. His ki was not dense enough to make any significant changes to Zaraxus. Not until the army of martial undead poured their collective ki into him. They arrived sprinting and fell in shambles by the dozens, eventually creating an impassable mound for the hundreds of their kin behind them to dismantle or be flung into a pit of darkness until the last wave came and went.


    When Zaraxus stood, he seemed no different from the fiendishly celestial form I saw earlier; other than the heart of arcana, serving as a crude well to pump the necrotic Ki throughout his body. With that, paired with the divine, wicked, and arcane energies he just received, it was hard to even think of him as an undead creature, much less a creature at all, but a calamity.


    <<"With this, Zaraxus, of course, has increased strength and martial abilities, but the true aim of this process was to make him wiser and more open to the living as he is the undead. Incredibly so.">> Amun grinned in the way only maniacal artificers did. <<"A Doom King is the monarch of a necropolis such as this.">> He gestured to the city above our heads, in the lands below. <<"A Sovereign of Gloom commands an undead kingdom. An Umbra Emperor commands an undying empire, encompassing a place like the Bodhi Peninsula.


    <<"Beyond that, is the Noctis Sage; of which there will only be so many. One at the head of every Legion, responsible for an entire realm ruled by the undead. Above all of them, is only one: the Abyssal Sage, Zaraxus.">>


    With the poise and grace of a divine avatar, Zaraxus swept his great wings, taking to the skies below his deathworld to look down on his land of the living; and with a voice as calm as the serene seas, he addressed his dominion for the first, and second time.


    "Remain in my domain and you shall thrive, not simply survive. Live free and do what only the living can do. Learn, grow, live. Temper your souls until your time comes and join us when it has passed. In exchange, we shall do what only the dead can; work unceasingly to protect and maintain the Legio Noctis, Eotrom, and her allies. Remain or stay! We shall not decide for you!


    ¡°We shall not keep you!"

 297 - Unwebbed

    <<"So, how fast can you two fly?">>


    In another one of those eerie moments that were happening far too often, High Matron Etyl and I shared an incredulous expression as we turned to the strange half-blood. <<How fast?">> I echoed, eliciting a boyish nod.


    <<"Yes. Faster than sound I hope? About 340 meters per second.">>


    <<"Why would I waste the energy to fly that fast?">> High Matron Etyl asked with an air of exhaustion.


    <<"It''s fun.">> Amun shrugged. <<"But if you can''t it''s fine, I''ll give you a lift.">>


    <<¡°Fun.¡±>> She scoffed. <<¡°How ridiculous.¡±>>


    <<"Why not just teleport there?">> I openly wondered.


    <<"That''s boring. Besides, you never know what you may miss.">> He waved the matter off with one hand and conjured his strange magic with the other, lifting the ground we were standing or sleeping on from the dead world to accelerate us to such ludicrous speeds in seconds, all while keeping our feet planted to this patch of ground as our faces pointed down to the Mortal Plane; a dizzying orientation to say the least.


    <<"What is this magic?">>\


    <<"Gravity.">> Amun distantly replied.


    <<"To the Hells with that!">> High Matron Etyl sneered as she gazed at the sleeping humans. <<"Tell me what you did to them.">>


    "Loup-Garou," Amun explained without doing so at all. His switching to the Common tongue only seemed to exacerbate our confusion. "Skoll and Hati were initially normal dire wolves. I met them when I was around seven years old. Over the years, I turned them and about twenty other creatures into shadow beasts by trapping them in my umbral dimension until they changed; just like Grandpa Azrael. When I ascended, those creatures were included in my divine portfolio and split among the domains. Wolves are part of the World Weaver''s domain. Skoll and Hati, however, tried their best to deny the boons of divinity, so they became celestials instead.


    "Because of their initial ties to death and darkness, their spirits and souls split from their bodies after death and went on to possess these two." Amun jerked his chin at the siblings. "Alone, that would''ve made them quite feral. The beastly humanoid husks you saw would have been Skoll and Hati''s new bodies, hardly able to talk and unsettling to look at. Their company would make things difficult, so I cursed them and their descendants for all eternity. Now, neither the siblings nor the wolves remain. They''ve fused into a shapeshifter with three forms and very specific weaknesses. Somewhat akin to vampires, they can pass their curse to another through a slobbery bite. They will become lesser versions of their progenitors, or they can perform a ritual to make their spawn more like themselves. In either case, they are not thralls, nor are they undead.


    "They are Loup-Garou: Werewolves."


    "That seems more like a blessing to me." I mused, looking over the siblings with newfound interest. Indeed, there were already a few changes. The boy was more tanned and his hair had faded to black while the girl¡¯s skin and hair grew paler. His flowing black hair had gold highlights, as did her hair have streaks of blue. Thawed and thick ice was spread beneath their bodies. But only the boy seemed to have fangs protruding from his slacked jaw. Then I caught sight of the rotund one, Blude.


    She was staring at Amun as if they were talking, but his eyes remained poised forward while her expression changed from curious trepidation to relief, then to wonder as she looked back on the black shapes breaking the northern shores.


    "Is it wise to open your ranks to those you have slighted?" I found myself laughing as the human settlements sprawled beneath us. But Amun answered without pause.


    "The civilians of Shujen hated the monarchy and their soldiers. High tributes or taxes, zealous rulers, constant war, corruption, and a low quality of life will do that to any society. As they say, ''Anarchy is only nine missed meals away.'' To that end, Zaraxus won''t demand anything from them; nor will he govern them. He will, however, prey on any corruption that spreads through the city and ensure no one attacks them, as corrupt people and good soldiers make great undead. That''ll remain true for his replacement, as his true role is by my side. In due time, just like in Bakewia, as their quality of life improves, their trust in one as dark and devilish as me will increase while their fear of the undead diminishes. By the middle of the year, that''ll yield ten times the allies and recruits for my Legions than we''re getting today. Not to mention," he added with a raised finger, "the novice monks and those who use this place as a testing field will now have greater foes to fight during their Walks.


    "The humans, goblins, and orcs of Shujen are fairly weak, after all, hardly using anything besides might and basic spells."


    There was far too much logic behind that reasoning to be a coincidence. From the start, Amun only killed the guards and soldiers that attacked him. The civilians were left unharmed, albeit traumatized and ungoverned. Then there was his story of hearing whispers from the Peninsula; of those who were worthy of accompanying him. But¡­ if that was his entire reason for coming here- for becoming a monk¡­ I knew not what to think of that.


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    <<¡°Legions?¡±>> Matron Etyl pointed out. <<"You keep referring to that.">>


    <<"My guild. The military-industrial empires to my magically industrious empire of empires. Those who allow me to experience the realms vicariously. My beloved explorers. The Legio Noctis. Plural, as there are eleven of them. For now.¡±>> Amun airily smiled.


    High Matron Etyl laughed heartily while my mind turned. <<¡°To have a guild, you must have a divine tree.¡±>>


    <<¡°Oh?¡±>> Amun snickered back, his finger raised to point out the blue rock floating high above. <<¡°It''s a good thing I have one then. That aside.¡±>> He paused, lowering his finger and his gaze to me. <<¡°What do you think of the other monks? Peter, Rua, and Veil of Shadows.¡±>>


    <<"Exceptional.">> I said with all honesty. <<"Few humans have the fear of death removed from their hearts. Even fewer can stand against drow. Those who can stand in the domain of drow without fear are rare, even among them.">>


    <<"Yes.">> Amun nodded. <<"And, how many drow do you know who could stand against Zaraxus, with or without fear, even before his promotions? Or Lana, the barbaric shadow? Do you think they could?">>


    The pieces fell together for both of us at the same time. But our reactions could not have been more different. My eyes grew wide. Hers compressed into slits. <<"How many others?">> She hissed.


    <<"All but eight students of class 999, so forty-seven.">> Amun grinned. <<"They are my first officers, who spent the latter half of last year under my tutelage. Plus whatever subordinates they now have. Coincidentally.">> He sighed, wiping his grin away in a long breath. <<"That very reason is why I must put my training on pause. I need to gather the other half of my party, you see. Not to mention, move further down my other paths.¡±>>


    <<¡°Your party?¡±>> I recoiled.


    <<¡°The Elven Devil¡¯s Troupe, if you will.¡±>> He snickered, gesturing to Iris; Blude and her two girls; the two sleeping brutes; and, strangely, to me. <<¡°This is about half.¡±>>


    <<¡°Half?¡±>> I laughed in disbelief. <<¡°How many more do you need?¡±>>


    <<"For now, four. A bard, a druid, an alchemist, and a fighter.">> He smiled enthusiastically, gesturing again to Blude, Iris, and the brutes. <<"We''ve already got three future rogues, a future cleric, a monk, and now, a barbarian plus a ranger. Everyone but me will be a warlock, so, aside from that, we''ll only need a witch, a wizard, and maybe a paladin. But they come later.">>


    <<"A witch?">> High Matron Etyl tilted her head, but I was certain Amun''s gesture and addition of a monk to that list did not slip past her. On the contrary, I was sure this was meant to cover up that fact. Or, knowing her, to point it out to me by mentioning my twin brother, the Second Son and Heart Keeper of House Za¡¯Darmondiel. <<¡°Why do you need a witch? Given that destructive light you presented, one would assume you could heal, no?¡±>>


    <<¡°I can, but I will not without conditions.¡±>> He smirked.


    <<"Surely you can wait.">> I began. <<"With your progress, you can finish your training by the mid-year. You would even threaten to beat my record if you do.">>


    <<"That is my deadline to form this party.">> He said, unrelenting. <<"But worry not, I estimate it will take no more than a month to return. Though, I am sure it will take significantly less.">>


    <<"Object all I may, it is not my choice to make,">> I sighed. <<"I cannot keep you.">>


    <<"All the more reason to pick up the pace then.">>


    To little surprise, my nieces and nephews were eagerly waiting at the entrance with Amun''s apparent subordinates. Their faces sat torn between every conceivable emotion as they flicked their eyes between our comparatively large group, unlike the object of my anxiety. Abbot Eiriol was poised as regally as ever before the entrance, smiling with only the faintest traces of emotion as we landed with a respectful bow.


    "I dare say, this Walk has been the most fruitful I have witnessed in decades." She began, paying no heed to the High Matron dragging her priestesses into the Halls. "Having arrived just before the Tenth Step, you can now call yourselves full-fledged monks." She declared with a wave, prompting the slaves to rush out and distribute their red sashes. "However, your journey to becoming a Master is hardly over. We will waste no time continuing your paths."


    The sharp infliction of her words prompted the remaining monks to clap their hands together and bow. And wordlessly, Abbot Eiriol motioned the other groups inside, then turned to Amun and I. <<I understand you intend to request a sabbatical.>> The crafty Abbot snickered.


    <<"I have other paths I must step down and companions to gather.">> He bowed again, a strange sight, considering what I now knew. <<"I can guarantee it will take no longer than one month.">>


    <<"No matter what you say, the Bodhi Tree¡¯s policies prevent me from keeping you here, Amun.">> The Abbot said¡­ gently? <<"On the contrary, this is a prime opportunity.">>


    A long breath- no shuffling of snow or the ruffling of leather, no clatter of weapons or sloshing water- a long breath was all that composed the long seconds of her stepping into the hut and returning a moment later with a fine silken bag that was thrown to me. Yet her eyes remained steeled on Amun.


    <<"I know you will not appreciate hearing this, Amun. The First Son of the High Matron, Etan of House Za''Darmondiel, my dear great-grandson, was born for you, Telin¡¯s Champion. He has studied all things drow since the day he was born and pushed through the Astral Path in record time. If only to teach the Eternal Champion come the promised time. This was my task.>> She stepped closer, hugging her hands closer to her belly while they shifted madly.


    ''I know of my granddaughter''s task to teach you of your drow heritage, but I know not what she knows of you, Amun, nor do I know what they have planned for either of you upon your return. However, I now know you would rather let the realms themselves die than allow tragedy to befall those close to you. I ask that you allow Etan to be one of those people. ''And, Etan.'' She turned a glistening pair of violet eyes my way. Eyes that reflected a similar hue as I stared into them. ''I have sinned against the Demon Spider, and my station is exceeding its use. More importantly, I have sinned against you, indoctrinating you in ways worse than High Matron Etyl. Your life had never been yours. For that, I apologize and seek- foolishly so- to redeem myself by asking you this: Continue to teach Amun for the rest of your combined days, but only if you wish to.


    ¡®But what you must do, is leave this place with him and never return. This is what I have always wished for you. Now, it is my greatest fear, for if you return.'' She paused her hands, glancing at Amun before returning her eyes to me. ¡®Zimysta will fall.¡¯

 298 - Dreams of a God

    "Are you alright?"


    "Am I alright?" I could not help but laugh bitterly. "This day has been filled with the unexpected. Never have I left the Halls for anything but raids, my walk, and yours. Now, I am to never return to those Halls as your lifelong teacher, and you ask, ''Am I alright?'' I have never even had someone ask me such a thing before. I was trained to mute my thoughts and emotions, as every Astral Monk does. And yet, I..."


    I fell silent, allowing the hardly audible crunch of snow beneath my feet to crack like that wall I built up little by little. A rope of the finest silk had been tugging at it as I distanced myself from the Halls- from Abbot Eiriol, from Eban. Only the broken stream of words gave me any hint as to when it finally broke. "I did not think she cared. About me- a male. Let alone you." I laughed again, this time in dismay. <<"Do you not despair?">> I shook my head. "Sounds strange in our tongue, no?"


    "Yeah." Amun sighed; both lightly and with such weight that it could topple the Mortal Plane itself.


    I chanced a look at him, and it seemed as if a stream of words were running through his mind, yet he said nothing. At least, not for a while.


    "Since the day I was born into this universe, I wondered if my family truly loved me or not. If my father and great-grandfather''s love was proportional to my competence and prowess and the training I imposed on my vassals; if my mother was proud, only because I was Telin''s Champion. Or if she was proud of herself for birthing me." He paused to meet my eye, passing along a mix of conflicting emotions with but a single glance. Disappointment. Amusement. Happiness. Relief. And most to my bemusement, annoyance. Then his eyes faced forward, unseeing the maze of trees before us. "I came to believe that while my father and great-grandfather both loved me from the start, my mother didn''t begin to love me until she was preparing to return to Youtera. The reason being, before she left, she asked me: What does the Champion seek?"


    He sighed, showing it again. Annoyance.


    "I told her," he continued, "all I sought was knowledge. That I sought to rule over no one. That my guild and empire was only a means to an end. A means to give my friends and followers the strength, knowledge, and resources they''d need to thrive freely while I selfishly explored these vast realms in which we live. Then, she asked: what I would do if I only saw misery and misfortune for the rest of my days."


    While my face showed it not, I honed intently on the hidden passion in which he said his words and drank on it like nectar. There was no need to verify the claim, as it was evident by the human children playfully floating above us while we walked. I was eager to hear more. Perhaps knowing this, Amun grinned teasingly. "I''ll show you my answer when we reach our destination."


    "Very well." I sighed, then looked around in every direction, searching for a way through the maze of trees, snow, and brush. "I don''t suppose we are to walk?" I asked.


    Rather than replying, Amun went through the forest like a minotaur through the tunnels of the Darkworld. Often breaking through the brambles and brush to enter the next cluster of wrist-sized trees. But rather than kick them down, Amun squeezed through them or found a roundabout way. I knew not if he was testing me, but I said nothing throughout the journey. Not that it required much effort, with the sobering questions running rampant in my mind.


    What made me so lucky, I wondered. Just as I always had. What made me so lucky to not be sacrificed? What made me so lucky to be chosen as the Champion''s teacher of all things elven and arcane; all things drow? What made me so lucky to have the Champion become a monk, making me teach him in that regard as well? What made me so lucky, to be freed from the Hells of my birth, leaving my brother and nephews to the malicious fate of the Matrons and their high priestesses?


    My mind suddenly gave way to relief as we entered a clearing, where Amun stopped to turn his focus to an outcropping of rocks surrounded by short trees. "Dart!" He shouted in a commanding voice, and the very earth seemed to respond.


    I thought he intended to create another world above the Mortal Plane before I noticed the wood and stone were not just connected, but were slowly¡­ morphing. Their skin grew smooth and shiny as it shifted to a frame of polished metal that could make a small castle. It was an Uma, I realized, albeit an ugly one. To start, it had tendrils protruding from its maw, lined with what appeared to be suction cups across them. Eight of them. Rather than slither across the ground, they tucked themselves beneath the body to reform into massive wheels that kept the central hub stationary while the outer portion spun freely. And they were massive. Large enough to boast gnome-sized doorways or have recessed porches within. Its head was bulbous and amorphous, capable of squishing or elongating to form a multi-floored abode atop those eight wheels. The versatile skin even created lanterns and ostentatious designs to give it the image of a large, lumbering abode on wheels.


    "Go home," Amun called over his shoulder. This time, the fox responded by darting into one of the doors on the second wheel from the front. Trailing after it, the girls danced up a small staircase that lowered between the wheels, leaving the door open for Amun and I to enter and be slapped in the face with warmth, humidity, and pungent earthly smells.


    We were¡­ inside, and yet outside, standing within a warm park of grasses and colorful flowers. There was even a pond at the center, floating in midair with many vibrant fish swimming lazily inside. I hardly even saw Amun as I passed ornate couches, chairs, and tables with black glass panels embedded in them. More of them hung from the ceiling like chandeliers, accented by tapestries depicting a land of poverty putting their all into becoming a land of elegance and prosperity.


    A burst of movement brought my eyes to what appeared to be several overgrown cupboards on the upper edges of the walls. They seemed at least big enough to fit a large bed. Four of them were painted, decorated, or somehow adorned. Amun confirmed before I could ask. "Those are the private quarters. Naturally, one of them is yours. That''s the workshop. Me, Redd, and Iris usually work in there." He pointed to the cabinet on the left side of the rear wall, and then to the one on the right. "That''s the kitchen. Sam''s domain."


    I thought it odd for Amun to have a personal chef. High-ranking monks sustained themselves with ki. I, however, assumed Amun would not know that, thus I kept my thoughts to myself and took the meal graciously. Only for another unexpected thing to occur: conversations during mealtimes.


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    "I assume you have many questions," Amun began, snapping my attention from my plate. "It''s better to lay it all out now."


    Suddenly aware of my pounding chest, I only nodded. Only partially aware of the girls listening with just as much intent.


    "I died in a different universe and met Telin before I was reincarnated here. Well, in Maru, and with perfect recall of my past life. All the knowledge, experience, and wisdom I gained from a century and three decades in a realm of humans without magic is kept in a kind of¡­ second brain, made accessible seamlessly and instantly. I also retained my skills, although I had to retrain them for this body. The point is, I know things, and can make things that, by this universe''s standards, can be considered a different type of magic. Technology.


    "However." He sighed, pouring the same burden I felt before onto the air to weigh down the Mortal Plane. "I met the creator of this universe, Telin, as I said. In short, he wants me to obtain his station and join him, and he''s using this life to assess me. He put me on the path to becoming the Eternal God of this universe so he and his peers can determine if I''m worthy of being an Eternal God in the multiverse.


    "But." He sighed again, threatening the Plane evermore. "Shortly after my birth, I decided I wanted to remain in this universe as the Eternal God, learning all I can until I''ve learned everything; and then I''ll make something new and repeat the process. No matter how many millennia it takes, that will happen, Etan." He said with unbreakable conviction. "But that does not change the fact that Telin has manipulated countless elves and their gods into meddling with my life with his intervention in the Thirteenth Century. For good or for bad, I do not know."


    "The tasks." I gasped. "It has been said that Telin has tasked all elves across the realms with preparing for the arrival of his Champion. Many believe you bring the time of judgment. The Demon Spider thinks you will bring Drow to greatness. But¡­ to think it was to¡­ meddle with his own champion. That is¡­" I shook my head. But in the end, I could do nothing but sigh. "Absurd, I want to say. But I know of another Goddess who would do much the same."


    "I''m sure there are many." Amun concurred. "Which is why, when I received my vassals at five years old, I began passing my knowledge on to them immediately. I taught them the military doctrine I was trained in during my previous life, altered for the presence of magic. I taught them the advanced arithmetic, medicine, philosophy, and science of my parent universe. I trained them in non-magical survival tactics and as many skills as they could absorb; many of them skills no one else in this universe knows. I trained and honed their bodies as I trained and honed mine. Every single day, without fail. Just as the monks in the Halls train.


    "When I was a bit older, I learned of the barrier surrounding Maru and elected to form a guild to breach the barrier and stabilize the portals leading to the other realms. That is the primary goal of the Legio Noctis; to tear down the reverse cattle pen and bring about an age of prosperity, an ArcaTech Age of Champions.


    "After that, the mission is to explore the entirety of the Mortal Plane." He concluded with a most familiar grin. "After sharing my goal with my father," he then continued. "I was sent to the mainland at ten years old to train at my great-grandfather''s tower; Corvus Tower, named after my ancestor, the Necro King''s great-grandmother, the Raven Reaper. Every night, I would fight the Necro-King to the death or war against his army of undying shadows for four years."


    I swore I saw a shudder run through Amun as he mentioned the legendary necromancer. "I would fight until I was at death''s door. Then, he''d have me heal and we''d go again. That would last from dusk until midnight when he''d teach me the basic use of our sorcery. During the day, however, he would pass his knowledge and skills onto my vassals whereas I held a competition. You see." He grinned wider. "I needed a tailor, a watchmaker, and an engineer to help bring the creations of my world into this one. Thus I arranged for the best artisans of Corvus Tower to learn from me and compete to build something of my design. They were compared at the end of each year, wherein the worst candidates were eliminated. Leaving only the best by the fourth year." I glanced at the well-made clothes worn by the girls, who themselves were nodding in sudden understanding.


    "While the others are in Maru, my engineer is at our destination; Edward Pascal, the creator of these Umas and the vehicles spreading across the Peninsula. With them in my employ, we returned to Deap Ridge, my birthplace, when I was fourteen. We continued training until we were to awaken our affinity cores. But just before we did, I talked with my mother, Eved. She told me of Telin''s Intervention- his meddling with the elves. Then, she gave me a mana sensitivity potion, an Arcana Well to meld with my own, and this." He paused, withdrawing a brooch that was instantly recognizable; as its shape and the mana within were so similar to mine.


    "You may be surprised, but I was not born with arcana."


    "You are correct." I recoiled subtly. Though my face never changed. "I am shocked."


    "But it''s true!" Amun grinned, waving his finger. "That said, Telin told me what affinities I would have before I was born but I didn''t receive them until my awakening. Gravity, Space-Time, Electromagnetism, and Nuclear Magic." He paused, ignoring the inquisitive and bemused expression I gave him while he stared and continued. "After being assessed by the Guild Association, our final test was to travel across the realm to a small island. But along the way, we saw two important things. The first was a town recovering from a bandit attack. It was the first important lesson to my vassals and the new friends I made, my royal equal and the Iron Magus'' daughter, Roheisa Deapou, and her knight, Lucia Pike. It''s a lesson I''ll pass on to all of you." He looked us each in the eye for a long second before continuing.


    "I agreed with the mayor to help him with his problems in exchange for my tailor and watchmaker taking residence there during our time here," he said. "Although he thought I would die by the bandits, in his mind, ''help'' consisted of getting rid of the bandits and leaving once my friends were settled. In my mind, ''help'' consisted of confirming the bandits were worth killing, which they were, so I killed them, turning them into specters to guard the city from afar. And then, as I said, we helped them with their problems. All of their problems. We rebuilt their city in a way they never dreamed of. We carved out the mountain that stood behind them and fortified their walls. We taught them how to grow more food and assisted in catching wild goats for their ranches. We taught the guards how to fight and use magic. We taught the peasants how to read and write and study and learn. We helped them in every way we could, not because of a promise of gold or to be called heroes, simply because I don''t half-ass things; that was the extent of our ability to help them.


    "In exchange, they pledged their loyalty to me. They sold their souls to me, a Nox Devil, something I indeed wanted but would not force on them or anyone else. Now, a little over a year later, those former peasants are scholastic arcane warriors- nobles residing in an industrial empire of arcane technology- the most interesting place in Maru. This is the lesson." He raised a finger, and the girls comically responded by leaning forward in their seats. "I do not care who you decide to help or who you choose to hurt, so long as you commit wholly to your actions and accept responsibility over whatever consequences may arise.


    "If you decide to help someone, help them in every way you can. Find every problem and fix it to the best of your ability, no matter how big or small. If you destroy something or someone, show no mercy, hold nothing back, and do not discriminate. I do not blind myself to the extremes of good and evil and neither should you. Be your definition of a righteous person, remain true to yourself, and live freely; and never take freedom from another without a just cause."


    I admit, I was reflecting on the words just as deeply as the girls. But I needed a fraction of the time to realize it was sound advice. More than that, it was a philosophy, a mantra- a tenant that needed no convincing to adopt. Thus I inadvertently pushed the story on before the lesson could take root in my mind.


    "What happened once you came to Nonus?" I eagerly asked.

 299 - Nightmares of a Devil

    "I met Peter the moment I arrived here," Amun said. "I saw him before, of course, but he was the first one I spoke to after stepping through the Bifrost. He was struggling with the mana density, and a few royals and nobles from Maru were bullying him because he was a former slave of their Empire."


    "That''s stupid." Blude sneered.


    "I agree, and I hate bullies. So, when I learned we were in the same party, I called him out." Amun snickered. "Naturally, he challenged me to a duel. The problem was that he had barrier magic. I couldn''t attack him outright, not without using the void." He shrugged. "So, I attacked his mind instead. I used fear to loosen his foundation. Then I broke him. While we exchanged some words thereafter, he distanced himself from me until I captured his knight during an outing in the wilds. I had his shadow clone spill his secrets, and after a tear-jerking conversation, Prince Winston Epeth and his knight agreed to help me with the portals in Maru if I helped them un-fuck their country. Something I planned on doing regardless." He snickered.


    "A few months later, I announced the formation of my guild to the rest of the class and made it clear they''d be making a devil''s deal if they agreed. I promised to help fulfill their goals if they help in Maru, in addition to many more boons. After the work in Maru is done, they can retire as Emperors in my Empire of Empires or continue exploring the Mortal Plane with me. As I told you earlier, most of the class joined," Amun said with a hint of disbelief. "So, I built a tower in the Bodhi Tree''s territory and spent the latter half of the second year training them harder than my vassals, turning them into my first, most elite officers. And then we evolved." This time he laughed dryly. Almost maniacally.


    "Then I learned I have five classes."


    My jaw almost dropped. "Five?"


    "Yes." He shook his head. "Master Class, Grandmaster Artificer, currently at the Fifteenth Step, a Grandmaster Armorer. Master Monk, the Way to Death''s Door, at the Ninth Step, Death''s Yard. Prestige Void Sorcerer, on the Second Step of Zefroth''s Path, The Flesh. Prestige Cleric on the Eternal Path''s Second Step, The Holy and Unholy Word. I''m also a... Prestige Rogue Devil, Soul Mastermind... at the Fifth Step, The Network."


    While the first was impressive and the second was one I had long since been aware of, the rest numbed my mind as they rattled off Amun''s tongue. A devil, cast aside by his kin. But also a sorcerer who walks the same path as the First Devil. Not to mention, a cleric without a deity. A cleric, only in name, for it was meant to shroud the fact that Amun was the Eternal God. Prime Deity to be of the entire universe.


    "And so." He grinned in that familiarly unsettling way as he turned to the girls. "I am the Eternal God; one who needs faith to grow, yet one who will need no faith once he matures. One that has made it his promise to give those he cares about, all the power and knowledge they''ll need to be, as I call it, unfuckwithable."


    That got a hearty laugh out of even me. Yet, unlike the girls or his, mine was born from hope. Hope that he seemed hesitant to capitalize on. "Like all Gods, I have four domains, and they have four prominent aspects." He said. "But unlike other gods, duality is an aspect of my portfolio. Thus some aspects have mirrors, and I have two religions. Technically, two philosophies as well, but that''s neither here nor there.


    "On one hand, I am the World Weaver, worshiped by the Order of Worlds. My first world orbits me wherever I go, acting as a representation of me and an eye in the sky, in addition to being the gate to my divine realm of Eotrom. Often wrongly called the ''Second Sun,'' its name is Mani, and was born from the World Weaver''s power- Moonlight. It is light fused with darkness, and thus is its first aspect, followed by Worlds, their fluid seas existing on them; and dreams fused with illusions. It primarily represents change and is represented by many creatures. Canines of all types. Cephlapods and Cetaceans like squids and dolphins. Many species of deer, and moths.


    "On the other hand, I am the Elven Devil, worshiped by the Black Plume as the Owl. It comes from Twilight, Light in tandem with Darkness, representing duality. And so its domains act in tandem as well. The Twilight of the expanse beyond in tandem with the Dusk in the Darkworld below. Purity in tandem with Corruption. Life in tandem with Death. The merge between holy light and my unholy sorcery makes both neutral powers. Thus they bring no harm to creatures of the night. In regards to Twilight, there are felines, rodents, snakes, creatures like badgers or weasels, and of course, owls."


    There it was, the hope, brought along by a single word that caused me so much torment over the years. Snakes.


    "Aside from that, my third domain is Engineering." He gestured to the strange environment surrounding us, and my eyes suddenly caught on the trees whisking by the window, where they stayed as he continued. "I am the master of Arcane Technology, the ArcaTech. Its aspects are Civilizations, Militaries or Guilds, Industry, and Science. However, the houses of worship tied to this domain are more akin to places of learning. Research and development, artificing, and engineering are all ways of worshiping me in this regard, not praying. Although," He glanced at Iris. "I suppose someone could.


    "The creatures you saw me interacting with during my walk are tied to this domain." He pointed out. "The family that bees, wasps, and ants belong to; and termites as well, though they are unrelated. There are also some types of Spiders- I can''t claim the burrowing or trapdoor spiders, for some reason, but the so-called ''true'' or ''orb weaving'' spiders are mine."


    ''For some reason.'' I could not help but choke on dejection. Yet he continued without a care.


    "The last of them is perhaps the best of all. Beavers. Collectively, however, these creatures are nature''s best architects. Like the ancients who passed along the martial arts we use today." He gestured between us. "Those in my previous world learned how to mimic nature in their structures, materials, and machines, not just their fighting techniques. Something referred to as Biomimicry.


    "Lastly, as I am Telin''s Champion, and he is the source of mana, classes, affinity cores, and the gates, I am the God of Mana. The aspects are the Universe, Evolution, Sorcerers, and Affinity Cores; yet also encompasses mana wells, mana molding, manipulation, casting, and forging, as well as magical evolution. While I can''t do some of those things yet, I''ll have power over all of these things in the future. As far as I''m aware, though, no animals are associated with this domain; unless you want to count wise rocks. However, some in the Legions who assume I''ll be the God of magic beasts or Faeries or something." He laughed.


    I did not find it as funny, however. On the contrary, it was a terrifying prospect; and one that may have been more true than he realized, considering the brooch he showed me. But if his contradictory powers were something to believe, it was a certainty. Not Faeries, per se, but some type of Fae.


    "Aside from that, there are three more things to be aware of." I turned my eyes to see Amun holding up three fingers. "The first is that all of these domains share the aspects of Nature, Duality, Freedom, and Change, although Moonlight and Twilight are tied most strongly to Change and Duality. The second and perhaps most controversial, are the creatures tied innately to my divinity. One of them, to little surprise, is devils. The second, to everyone''s shock, is Umbra Draconis.


    "Shadow Dragons."


    I leaned across the table this time, my face shrouded in disbelief as I stammered. "S- shadow dragons?" It was not unheard of. But it was rare. Moreover, there were whispers of Amun facing a red dragon, yet none knew the outcome of their engagement.


    "Yes." Amun returned an amiable nod. "Turns out, the greatest guilds in Polaris and the Emperor himself thought it was wise to pit me against a red wyrmling last year. A venerable one, at that. Born from the Scourge of the Mountain or whatever they call sleeping ancient to the north. No one saw me fight last year because I didn''t. I destroyed the scrying eye and made a deal with her, Cononthoth. Now she''s a venerable Red Shadow dragon. The Exalted Gloom. The first of many, as she is not sterile like the tales describe dragons being corrupted by the darkness. She''ll birth more shadow dragons and the others I corrupt will birth more of their kind; chromatic and metallic alike, I am their God."


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    "That is as amazing as it is terrifying." I shuddered.


    "Yes, but since you''re with me now, you don''t have to worry about her kind harming you. Or venerable chromatic dragons as a whole, for that matter. If I understand things correctly, Tiamat is quite pleased with the whole thing.


    "The last thing, though, are my blessings from Telin." He continued before I could voice any more shock. "There are three. Telin''s Grace makes me the most beloved by mana in the universe."


    "That makes sense."


    "Telin''s Hand grants my followers a higher tier of affinity cores."


    "That also makes sense," I muttered.


    "And Telin''s Sight allows me to see the evolutionary paths of anyone who meets my gaze."


    "WHAT?"


    "I can see every aspect of the paths people can obtain, no matter which ones they''ve already pursued. I can read the tasks required for each step down the end of those paths. And I can even see what perks they''ll receive along the way. This includes mine, by the way." He clarified with a passive wave.


    I could not believe it. "So then, you knew the steps you had to take to Death''s Door before arriving at the Halls. You did not even need to train with us. So then, why appear at all?"


    "Well." He shrugged. "For one, I knew there would be things I could only learn from a master. For two, there was you."


    "I- I see." I turned away from his gaze and suddenly felt ashamed by the sudden warmth in my cheeks. So I pressed him to continue. "What else do you know?"


    "Well." He shrugged. How much do you know about ability improvements?"


    My careless shrug resulted in a tangent that revealed a bounty of things even I wasn''t aware of.


    There was more to it than mere strength, durability, or agility. It involved mana, and thus the limitations were exceeded. It prevented the body from being destroyed by exceeding its limits. It prevented large objects from collapsing under their weight when lifted; from disintegrating from flying through the air at hypersonic speeds or breaking your arms when punching at the speed of sound.


    Constitution, for example, evolved in stages like all the rest. The first came with resistant skin and bones dense enough to facilitate the lifting of heavy objects. At the second, the organs were optimized. The digestive system was improved, limiting one''s needs to one daily meal. A meal that was digested rapidly and produced little to no waste. So too did that apply to the kidneys, lungs, heart, and even the brain. Then came the healing factor at the third stage. Light injuries healed only while performing light duties or when resting. After that, the skin and bones get strong enough to block all but adamantine, mithral, or magic, and the skin becomes rigid enough to resist pressure changes, allowing them to survive where there is no air. Or below the sea. The fourth brought elemental resistances and a moderately persistent healing factor capable of healing minor wounds during combat. But it was nothing compared to the complete healing factor at the final stage, where even life-threatening wounds could heal during combat, albeit at a snail''s pace. However, that also included a stronger resistance to all types of elemental damage and organs that were both fortified and optimized further.


    Since adding onto his constitution would be counter-intuitive to his class and he could steal as much strength as he wanted, Amun pointedly told me he was going for super-powered agility and dexterity. He''d know he reached the first superpowered dexterity stage when his reaction times surpassed the speed of sound, placing him into a state of slowed perception whenever he bolstered his body with mana, making his strikes and kicks generate miniature sonic booms. Beyond that, his movements would become hypersonic, displacing so much air that they turned into virtual air cannons. Those shockwaves would grow powerful enough to propel one in the opposing direction at the third level, effectively allowing them to kick off the air akin to solid ground. Something he would soon learn to do ki, but he made it a point to explain his concept of ''redundancies'' to cease my ramblings.


    At phase four, the reaction time was to the point where one could track lightning with the senses, but not yet keep up with it. That, keeping pace with lightning, was the agility. Instead of reaction time, reflexes, and use of the hands, it focused on overall speed and athletic ability, and the first stage was the most noticeable. It came when the mana reactions negated fluid displacement around the body as one moved, effectively reducing atmospheric drag to near-zero and, in turn, increasing the top speed to match that of sound- which evidently has a speed.


    Quite interestingly, it was then that he more or less ordered us to enter the realm of superpowered agility and dexterity alongside him. In response to my inquiry, he explained the differences between raw and evolutionary physical ability; mostly to the girls. His raw strength was in the superhuman realm, but that was it. In terms of humans, his dexterity and agility were too, but not to other elves; his magic ability was less than average and his athleticism was normal to us, so bolstering himself with mana would not give him an edge. Bolstering was what caused the evolutionary physical abilities to activate, however. That was why those with evolutionary super strength did not go around breaking doors every time they entered a building, unlike those with raw strength.


    Like his Great-Grandfather, the Amazonians in his guild- and by extension Blude- his strength was an ''always on'' endeavor. He could slow time with magic and infuse his body with lightning to slow his perception of time or make himself faster, but that meant nothing in the presence of antimagic, so he needed the ability improvements to have his speed match his strength. If not surpass it.


    I pointed out that such a goal was born from a cynical and paranoid mind. He did not disagree but did not agree either. He only leaned over the table, causing the burning embers of hope to rise from the depths of my spirit once more.


    "Now then," he began, staring deeply into my eyes. "I''m sure you''re aware of this, but when I mentioned the loudest voices in the Peninsula, I was also referring to you. But not just you, you may not know. Countless drow as well. Mostly males but many females as well. Thousands of them, far beneath the Halls of Nydorden. Even if they don''t know it, they''ve been pleading and praying for someone to free them from one of the few fates it seems they have. I never counted on being the God of drow." He admitted. "But if it means freeing my people from the madness that enslaves them, I''ll gladly be that. However, the decision to be freed- the decision to join me, is yours to make."


    "Not that I have a choice." I laughed bitterly. And sweetly. "But, with what you have said- with what I have seen- my answer would have been the same either way. If you can free our kind from the Demon Spider''s webs, particularly my brother, that would be better than I could have ever hoped for. Thank you." I bowed.


    He waved my words aside as if they were meaningless. "You''re still my teacher, Etan. But I''m your boss. So, I guess that makes us equals. Friends, even." Amun laughed. "Either way, being your boss or your God doesn''t mean you have to be formal with me or treat me as anything but a normal person. I don''t see my divinity as something that places me above the likes of others. It only turns fighting into a bore and makes everything else far too easy." He laughed dryly. "That is precisely why I''ve decided to make things more interesting in places like these.


    "But now comes the real question." A lengthy pause coincided with him leaning back into his chair, grinning wide to show his rows of pointed teeth. "What kind of power should be the foundation for your domain?"


    "My face fell as I thought about the possibilities; weighed the pros and cons. I did not get far.


    "No pressure," Amun said with a raised palm. "You don''t have to decide immediately."


    "Then, I will wait to decide." I nodded, prompting, it seemed, for the girls to jump from the table and declare they were going to sleep.


    Having no need for my trance just yet, I wordlessly followed Amun into the workshop and sat peacefully while he approached the carcasses of his beloved wolves, methodically butchering them and hanging their hides up for tanning. Yet, it was not just that. It was an¡­ intimate moment, almost like a ritual. Something along the lines of which I have never seen before. A silent weeping of creatures in passing, a strange sight to see a necromancer perform.


    He skinned them with the utmost care, muttering words I assumed to be blessings each step of the way. He hung their pelts on wooden frames to dry, crafted salves and ointments out of their marrow, and made potions from their organs; their bones, and blood into tools, weapons, and equipment. Every bit of those massive creatures was used for something, then packaged in enchanted wardrobes before they were sealed away in a dimension of darkness.


    He emerged from his labors in the deep of night. And though the hardly perceptible cloud that hung over Amun had dissipated, he called for some alone time after showing me to my room. It was a luxurious abode compared to even drow standards, being spatially distorted to a grand chamber''s volume. The bed was larger than a High Matron''s, but I had long since learned to be ascetic. However, for the first time in my life, I found myself in private solitude. Thus I began to meditate and think of the obvious, most exciting thing to cross my mind."


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    I beamed wide as the smell of rot and tar filled my nose and thundered out a low laugh as every set of burning eyes turned in my direction. I beamed wide, I spread my arms as far as my body allowed, and I screamed across my pit. "Archer! How''ve you been enjoying the new life?"


    The spined devil that once was an infamous Chaulortian Witch instantly leaped to my side, clawing his greedy hands happily. "Good! Good!" he cackled. "Many new souls have come by. Though, not as many as your sm- sm- sssmell would suggest."


    "Yeah, yeah." I waved him off me. "Not every soul I free comes here. Some have second lives to live, you know. Anyway, I need you to teach me something.


    "The Art of Nightmares."


    ---


    [The Path of Zefroth, Step 3: The Mind of Night.]


    [To continue down Zefroth''s Path, learn from your devils, the art of infecting mortal minds with pestilential nightmares that place them on the path to corruption.]

 300 - Sundered

    The Hateful, Ravenous One.


    ***


    The first thing I remembered was an incandescent sun. An oppressive heat that glared upon me with the intensity of a war god aiming his wrath at a single blade of grass.


    I then looked up to see green. More greenery than I''d ever seen in my life. Trees. Weeds. Grasses and leaves, grown to the proportions of man and beyond. While burned dry by the summer glare, the overgrowth swayed under the veiled threat of another tempestuous God. Toiling clouds of a rumbling deity echoed across the stillness of brown leaves, ripped earth, and overripe plants. Only then did I see it: the eyes that burned with the sun''s malevolence. The fur was as dark as the deepest shadow. The paws immolated the trees that rose to colossal heights, yet stood no higher than the knees. The sweeping tail left death in its wake.


    He looked upon my frail stature with unbridled hate, that Celestial Wolf.


    That King of Celestial Wolves lunged with his maw wide.


    Seeing that expanse of fire in its throat, my eyes widened further. I backpedaled. He faded into ash, leaving burned brush and smoke before me, green to my right, brown to my left, and behind me, fearsome snarls, magnificent plumes of smoke, and baleful eyes.


    There was no pain when he sundered me. It was almost as if I was disconnected from my body, yet attached all the same. I heard my flesh be torn from my bones but there was no pain. I felt the claws putting an immense weight on my chest but there was no pressure. I saw my blood vaporizing into a hellish mist but my mind remained clear. It was only when that magnificent creature of fire and hate dove into my spirit with wild fervor. So ravenous that King of Wolves was, that he seemed to make a den from my bones as he crawled through my innards to pick every bit of my flesh clean. And then, rather than leave, that Celestial Patron, finally satiated, laid down to rest in that man-sized cave.


    ---


    I felt an eye open before my own snapped wide. Then I shot out of a bed that seemed to be a cloud, finding myself in the strangest of places; a room of wood with shelves stacked high with tomes. A table and plush chair; both illuminated by a sconce of glowing stone. A wall of glass that showed a blur of greens, whites, and blues.


    "Am I... in the afterlife?" I wondered aloud, though a thousand thoughts and memories told me otherwise. Searching for answers, I found a room containing a tub and toilet, plus a wardrobe containing a battle dress born of a wolf pelt that seemed so familiar it forced me back a step. But then I pressed forward to trace my hand along the ashen black fur, traced with golden bits.


    While reluctant to put it on, I felt a sense of reverence and unity as the wolf head pauldron fit into place atop my right shoulder. The fur cloak trailed behind me like smoke from a bonfire, even in the still winds of this room. The boots hugged my feet as if they were melded to my skin and seemed to reform, giving me the claws of that reverent creature if only for a second. But even before that, I started to notice things.


    Familiar scents in the air were somehow visible to my eyes as colorful bands of lingering smoke. A black one was an almost skunky smell of pine mixed with rot and death. A purple one was the deep scent of earth, mushrooms, and sweat. A blue one was the strong odor of oil. Deeper blue ones smelled of perfume and the sea, three of them; and a white one, the most familiar, smelled of snow and pollen. They were all mixed with voices I could also see through some unknown means. It was almost as if the air was rippling or producing vibrating lines that appeared from their source, penetrating walls and anything else solid to meet my eyes. Some were shrill and high-pitched like children. Others were deep and brooding like men. All of them spoke of the mundane.


    Following them, I found myself descending a tree house to enter an eerie forest. Benches and chairs stood among the growth as if they were in tents or rooms. Globs of water floated freely throughout the place, but it was strangely dead. No creatures roamed this expanse of green, and while humans were present, those tree houses seemed to be the only structures beneath this vast ceiling.


    Rounding a brush, I stopped and stared, wide-mouthed, for I came face to face with a dark elf and several human children sitting at a fine table. But¡­ for whatever reason and despite my hesitation, I thought nothing of it. I stepped forward. Then I saw him.


    "Oh." My head rocked back in a greeting. "Hey, Amun." I stopped and stared, wide-mouthed all over again. "Wait, what?" I looked at them, confused. Amun was laughing while the rest turned to each other with raised brows. Then, the sounds of chaos ensued.


    Turning to the source, I saw the most warming sight; my sister, sliding haphazardly across the dirt as if she were searching desperately for someone.  Despite that, her hooded cowl and tunic remained as pristine and clean as ever. Born from the fur of a white wolf, it seemed just as radiant as mine, although she seemed not to notice. She ran into my embrace with all her might, nearly toppling me.


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    "Sister." I pushed her away to look in her glistening eyes, cold and blue like rapidly melting glaciers. "What dreams did you have before waking?"


    "I dreamt of snow and darkness. Fields and flowers." She trembled, running a hand along my face. "I dreamed of a white wolf. Colossal in stature. I- I held my hand out to her. She approached almost instantly, smelled me, then... nuzzled me. When I went to pet her, I awoke here."


    "My dream was the same," I grunted. "But the opposite. It was hot and bright, like summer. Fields of green forests and rotted, decayed land. And a black wolf. It... consumed me, and now lives within me."


    "Do you remember your names?" Amun''s voice cut our reunion short, and when I turned to him a resurgence of those memories, both familiar and foreign, passed through my mind. The beatings. The cold nights. The hunger. The fear. The relief. The darkness. The power. And then¡­ light. My mother. Death. In time, I remembered everything else. The land of endless snow and boundless prey. The dark elf we thought to be prey. The being of death who killed the pack. The dark den that changed us. The light that was painful until it was not. The lights I did not want. The incandescent sun. The eye of the beast now sleeping in my chest.


    I remembered it all. Except one thing. "S- is it Skoll?" I asked just moments before my sister stammered. "H- Hati?"


    "Good." Amun smiled wide, showing a row of predacious teeth. "You are my companions still. But those names won''t work for you anymore. So." He looked up, tapping his chin several times before returning his gaze to us with a beaming smile. "Geri." He pointed to my sister, allowing his darkness to inscribe the name above his hand, then to me. "Freki."


    "Freki." I slowly echoed the name, finding a smile creep over my face. "I graciously accept this name." I bowed.


    Amun only chuckled. "Well met." He gestured for us to sit before two heaping platters of meat. Raw meat.


    While raw meat seemed a bit more appetizing than it otherwise would have been, I remained hesitant to eat it until I first pinched a steak between my thumb and forefinger, wherein I noticed the claw-like nails at the tips of my fingers. Then I brought the morsel up to my nose to draw in a whiff. The aromas were intoxicating; blood, sweet like honey, but sharp and dull like iron. I exhaled dreamily, wherein I heard¡­ sizzling.


    "Well, guess I don''t have to cook for you." Laughs accompanied the comment before I opened my eyes to a piece of finely charred meat dangling from my claw. Laughs that hastily died down once I tore into the rest of the platter. But to my surprise, I found them aimed away from me.


    Upon my dear sister- Geri, they widened with morbid awe. As did mine, for she gnawed furiously on a chunk of frozen meat while staring absently into the distance as if oblivious to our presence.


    "Can you cook¡­ barbecue?" I asked, noticing the rough growl in my voice as I turned to¡­ Sam. "You are the chef of this Troupe, yes?"


    She turned her gaze to me slowly, confusion written across her brow before she slowly nodded, then grinned cunningly. "Yeah, but you''re gonna have to do a lot of hunting to feed your greedy ass, and I''m gonna teach you how to cook it yourself."


    "H- Haha!" I rocked back from the sudden surprise. "Very well, I accept!"


    "So, here''s the deal. Like me, you all have dual natures. You are my companions. Veritable demigods on the way to godhood, free to pick your domains or aspects and do as you please. Or." Amun grinned. "You will be once we go home. But, I also have a guild. And should you be a part of my Legio Noctis, you shall be among the highest-ranking officers in the Legions. And so, like everyone else, you must train to meet my standards before you get there. Moreover, you must pick a specialization and be the finest in the realms of that craft.


    "The Culinary Arts." He gestured to Sam. "Recreation, Entertainment, Sports, and Tourism." He motioned to Blude. "Maritime Industry." He pointed to Redd. "Technology." He pointed to the small one, then looked back to us, and curiously, the drow- Etan. "What you choose is up to you. You have plenty of time to decide, so think about it for now. Anyway. Here''s your weekly pay." He waved a blinding flash of sliver that dimmed into three chests, stacked high with gold coins and bars. My sister leaped onto it immediately, throwing coins into the air to laugh maniacally in the heavy shower. But gold wasn''t something I could eat. And, quite to my shock, it seemed not to impress the drow.


    "How much is this?" he asked in that strange accent of his, so monotone but melodic and proper; it pained my ears.


    "Two thousand gold." Amun cheekily replied in another strange accent. But one that was¡­ otherworldly. Foreign, yet spoken in the slow, deliberate tone of... Odissi. Unique enough to entice any who heard it. "You''ll also be receiving enchanted clothes and weapons like them." He nodded to us, then held out a small box for the three of us to take. "For now, there''s this. The most important tools in your arsenal."


    "A watch and an earring?" Etan asked in disbelief. But I¡­ partially knew what it was and slipped it on without delay.


    In hindsight, I had no idea what it was. Both pieces faded into nothingness within my very hands and reformed on my body a moment later, triggering the soothing voice of a scholarly male to resonate in my head.


    "Soul Imprinted. User verified: Freki, the Ravenous."


    "The Ravenous." I echoed. Or began to, only to have a field of lights, visions, illusions, and words consume my sight before settling on the edges of my perception. It was such an influx of information that the words were stolen from my lungs.


    "This is what I used earlier." The drow gasped in sudden comprehension.


    "What you used earlier was the Mana Net, which is being sold to everyone in the Peninsula." Amun corrected, smiling proudly. At least, I thought it to be pride. "It''s an intangible information and communications network I created for my artificing business, ArcaTech Industries. What you have now is NoxNet. It is the same, but it allows you to use the same¡­ mental enhancements, I use. And more.


    "Iris will give you the tutorial." He motioned to the small one in the blue tunic. Then to the drow. "After that, we train."

 301 - Melded

    The Greedy, Mocking One.


    ***


    "So, brother, it''s been three days. What do you think of our... reincarnation?"


    He drew in a deep breath; no doubt to take in the many aromas lingering like colored clouds before he exhaled a massive gray plume of smoke. "Part of me mistrusts magic still. It makes this¡­" he spun around on the spot in a gesture to display the many magic items he wore, "difficult. And the drow. Half of me finds it hard to trust him, even though the better half of me knows him well enough. And¡­ I almost feel a¡­ closeness with Amun."


    "I understand what you mean. I feel like I''ve known him for half of my life. And I too was glad to realize we didn''t need half the stuff given to us. But the weapons were nice." I smiled in remembrance of my bow. "It''s hard to believe we''re sorcerers, though. And¡­ seasonal ones at that."


    "Yes. And yet, I keep asking myself: ''What else did you expect to inherit from a celestial wolf?''" he shook his head, laughing in despair.


    "Right!" I laughed with him. "And, concerning Etan." I tossed my head in a shrugging gesture. "I sure as Hells can respect his fighting ability. And, if anything else, I just picture him as Amun''s cousin or something."


    "Are you saying all drow look alike?" Freki laughed.


    "Are you saying those two don''t?" I barked, and he was forced to admit it.


    "Their likeness is uncanny." He nodded. "That is an unsettling fact that seems to drift by them both. But¡­ I suppose you are right. As for your initial question, all I can say is that I am joyous about this rebirth. What say you?"


    "Amun can explain it better than me," I tossed my head. "But I can sincerely say our human sides are better off now than before. You are no longer imprisoned in that castle. I am no longer fighting to survive in the wild. We are no longer living trophies and pawns for our warmongering father and psychotic mother. We are no longer foolish enough to believe that honor is more important than living.


    "We have real power now, brother. A power we must learn to control." I moved in front of him to look him hard in the eye, bright like the sun, though it was. "We will travel far beyond this realm, brother. We must do so."


    "Control." He scoffed silently, bleeding heat into the air as he moved past me. "I was controlled before. No more. No, Geri. I have chosen to embrace this power. This life, I will embrace too. I will use it as I use my body and go forth where life- where Amun, takes me."


    "Mmm," I swayed my head. "I suppose you have a point." But then again, we were polar opposites, and still are. He was rich and I was poor. I grew comfortable with being alone. He suffered from loneliness. He ate his fill every night and slept in warmth. I starved and wept in the cold. My hardship was through battle and licked wounds. His hardship was through torture and fast healing. He was paraded. I was discarded.


    "Come." He grunted, pulling my thoughts astray. "Our prey is near."


    I followed close behind him, focusing on the amber clouds trailing from downwind. They smelled of smoke and sulfur, spice and iron; a pleasant change from the foul-smelling goblins and the salty humans prowling the Rith Tribe''s territory.


    I grew ever-curious to what it could be, resulting in me bumping into Freki as he crouched low in the brush. Following the same motion, I peered over his shoulder, spotting a cloud of steam and a puddle of freshly melted water sizzling beneath the iron claws of some fire lizard.


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    Before Freki could begin to stalk the prey, I lunged down, diving into the snow to appear beneath the creature in the next instant. My maw made short work of the thin scales of its belly, piercing the simmering flesh with the deadly essence of winter. It froze instantly, remaining stiff-legged as I pulled myself out of the snow, toppling it onto its side. Laughing at the sight, I turned to see Freki standing- on two legs- frowning at my kill. In return, I smiled and ripped off a leg, concentrating on holding the power of my bite back so that it wouldn''t freeze further, and dropped it at his feet.


    Stepping back, I focused on the ''inner eye'' we both had and lulled it to sleep. In turn, a wave of white and blue frost covered my body, invoking a deep shiver to shake the fangs, claws, and fur from the form of my other half. My human half.


    With this sorcery, the transformation wasn''t as painful as I remembered the first time to be. Yet, the aftereffect remained. I found myself ripping off the creature''s leg before hoisting it over my shoulder and thought nothing of it as I dug into it, hardly even noticing the spicy hint of the frozen meat as I focused on the mix of smells that pointed to the den.


    Flying remained difficult, if running through the air could even be called such, but we returned to our caravan- the Omni or Octo-Wagon- without hiccups. No, that only came when we entered, and Amun frowned sourly upon seeing the mangled corpse draped over my shoulder. With a hopeful expression, I held out what offered some of my meal and smiled once he took it and gave it a bite. Then, my face dropped when he didn''t hand it back. He turned on his heels and walked away. With my food.


    It was gone by the time I dropped the lizard in the freezer and met the others in the war room. Not even bones remained. Nor was there any sign that Amun even feasted on my offering. He only smiled to greet us as we entered, then pulled our attention to the center of the room.


    Even after days of staring at it, I could not stop marveling at the map. I had never seen such a thing. A palm-sized button emitted a field of glowing lines that curved and molded to form hills, mountains, and valleys. The lines turned to shimmering sheets in parts, denoting frozen lakes and rivers. In other parts, it turned a brown shade, elongated, and broke apart to form a dotted line- a road. White pinpoints of light depicted bergs and settlements of the natives while black ones denoted the hides and holes Amun and his Legions had created. Other lights were formed into small triangles or squares and shaded blue, green, or red to show the positions of the troupe, allies, or enemies. And with a swipe of the hand, the counties and provinces of Shujen could appear in various shades of blue, clearly distinct from the shades of purple depicting the Knighilian borders to the west or the orange Earldoms of the Nevstan Principality to the east and the endless swath of green highlighting the Wild Territories of the Vrurian Empire to the south. I spent hours toying with it in my spare time, focusing on the streets of cities I''d never before heard of.


    Dizzyingly, the map moved to Bakewia''s western shores and hovered above a place called Winwell. Leaving the map distant enough to leave the city layout unseen, Amun began. "I have something for you all to see in here. We''ll arrive within the hour and remain for the day. Come tomorrow, I have some business to attend to in Shavew, where we''ll stay for another day. In either case, you can enjoy the sights, stay here, accompany me, or find people to work for you.


    "Lastly, you''ll find new deposits in your quarters. Wise rocks and, for you two." He pointed to me and Freki. "More gold. You''ve technically been with me for nearly a decade, after all."


    I only nodded and of course, checked; then nearly fainted when I saw the number.


    "And make sure you clean up before we get there."


    Me and Freki retreated to our mounds with gaping maws. Silently, we pushed through the brush and entered our hole, arriving in a den more spacious than anything I could have ever dreamed of. It stretched throughout the undercarriage of this wagon. I occupied the left side and Freki the right. The rest was a common area of couches, tables, bookshelves, and a large ''entertainment screen,'' but none of those passed by my eyes.


    All I could focus on was my magical tome- my grimoire, and the numbers displayed within.


    [Gold: 860,000]


    "Heh." I heard myself laugh and decided to run with it. "All I need now is a pack of wolves. And¡­ I guess, people to work for me. Whatever that means." I muttered that final part. And surprisingly or not, Freki answered.


    "Workers." He said with a grunt. "I intend to find people to grow my food, brew my ale, and raise my livestock. We won''t always be able to spend time on the hunt, Sister. There will be times when we must stand by Amun''s side without rest.


    "I refuse to go without food, even in those cases."

 302 - The Desperate

    The Owl.


    17th of Trescia, 1492.


    ***


    As Amun and the Troupe got underway to Winwell, the Owl flapped and flew across the frozen forest of Bakewia until the sights of the forgotten passed him by. But not through those dilapidated streets did the Owl waddle. Instead, the Owl dawdled into the Realm of Darkness to tinker and toy with flesh and gore.


    Using knowledge from the fiendish friends, the Owl tanned and laced the flesh of the wicked and fueled it with a maddened soul to make a hungry maw and an angry visage for a lock and forged the key as a condition. And, using the blood, the Owl composed, transcribed, and detailed, up to a third.


    The Owl did not ascend when the task was done. No, the Owl descended to the Pit of Pits and exited to fly through the city of damned and devils. In that library of the greatest of worsts, the Under''s library of archdevils and deathly sovereigns, the Owl composed, transcribed, and detailed, up to a third.


    The Owl did not return when the task was done. No, the Owl left the Pit of Pits and entered the great Abyss. To the infinite yard of souls, the Owl traveled to do as none could and fall through. And in eternal emptiness, the Owl composed, transcribed, and detailed, up to a third.


    The Owl did not emerge when the task was done. Not immediately, for the Owl stayed long enough to notice the endless empty the Owl merged with, merging with the Owl. There was a name The Owl wanted to call. But the Owl had the inkling to save it for the Other when the time was right. And so, the Owl emerged into the Plane of Mortals to listen in on the whispers, deposit his trinket in a nearby nest, and take flight.


    Now in the deep of night, the Owl flapped and flew across the frozen forests of Bakewia until the sights of the miraculous passed him by. But not through those enchanted streets did the Owl waddle, instead, the Owl wove through windows and dove under doors to sink a maddened soul into an otherwise unordinary object, then plummeted to the districts of artificers below to perch atop the Cane of Duality and play the waiting game.


    It would be long until the desperate one arrived. But it did not take long for others to wade through the night.


    Case in point. "The ''ells are you ''posed to be?" a peasant thrust his swaying finger forward, leaking spittle and the stench of alcohol everywhere.


    And so, the Owl asked. "What do you see?"


    Fearful or in shock, the drunk leaped back, only to lean forward, squinting intently. "Uh." He leaned forward. "Owl."


    "Then the Owl is what I am."


    "So whadd''ya just sit here on yer fuckin'' post?" he angrily slurred.


    "Until those such as yourself appear, yes."


    "Er- right then. An'' then what?"


    "Some would say the Owl grants wishes. Others would say the Owl inflicts curses. Both would be incorrect, for the Owl only assists in acquiring the soul''s desires."


    The drunk squinted, swaying in place while the words muddled his insignificant mind. "You fuckin'' what, mate?"


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    "Oh, what a pretty owl!"


    The Owl would have sighed in relief if such a thing did not blow his cover, for a lady of my night came strutting forward with the poise and grace of a royal.


    "Says it grants wishes." The drunk slurred.


    The courtesan rolled her eyes but jumped as high as he did when the Owl pointed a wing to the man. "What the drunk says is partially true. I assist in acquiring the desires of the soul. And so, I ask you, what is it that your soul desires?"


    The woman grew wide-eyed, if for only a moment before reeling back, tapping at her chin thoughtfully. "What an interesting question."


    "One that yields interesting results." The Owl countered. "What should be yours?"


    "If I were to make a wish," She carefully said. "It would be to be liberated from my employer. I would wish to have the power to choose my clients as I see fit. To live where and as I see fit. Can you grant me that?"


    "The Owl can. And so the Owl will." With a wave, a black feather, glowing with a golden radiance befell the maiden and dispersed into a field of starry lights.


    "Wha'' happened?" The drunk asked, seeing her glowing eyes widening beyond belief.


    "A most magnificent building will be constructed." She gasped. "For me. For my¡­ Gilded Feather."


    He nearly fell over turning to face her."The ''ells issat?"


    "Look near the military district a tenday from tomorrow night. When you''re sober, preferably." Her stern tone ended with a hint of playfulness, topped off by a wink that birthed a new fire in the drunk''s eyes.


    A fire that birthed sheer avarice once he turned back to the Owl, screaming. "I wish to be a powerful lord!"


    Without waiting, The Owl sent out a feather with a wave of his wing. The oppressively black, hardly radiant feather dispersed into a dark cloud as it befell the drunk, yet pride bloomed in his eyes as the Owl declared. "A powerful lord, you shall become."


    Confusion crossed his face until the visions came over him, widening his eyes and broadening his smile, giving enough air to the fires within him to drive his legs toward the horizon with nary a concern for anything else.


    "Where is he going?" The courtesan turned after his fading frame.


    "To the Capitol of Shujen, where he will become a powerful lord."


    "So much for seeing him again." She shrugged, then dismissed the matter entirely by facing front. "Thank you for the service you''ve done, Owl. I''ll tell everyone I know of your graciousness."


    Only a nod was given as a response, as the Owl was eager to have a period of silence after the blubbering buffoon ruined the night''s peace.


    Within an hour, another young courtesan appeared. Another lady of my night. But one with far less elegance than the first. Despite her knowledge of the Owl from the first courtesan, her avarice was on par with the drunk. She wished for fame and renown across the realms as a high-class brothel mistress to net her immense wealth. And so, the black feather she was given showed her a vision of grandeur she would come to find above the City of Bards.


    The next passerby appeared around four in the morning. A half-elven boy at the latter end of puberty. He lamented his apparent destiny of being a farmer, inherited by virtue of his dead father. He lived the life since he was born and for as long as he could remember, he hated it. He spent every minute of his breaks drawing or painting. He wanted to be an artist- a bard, and with the golden feather he received, the Owl declared an opportunity would present itself to his farm, opening the door for him to fulfill his dream and more.


    Throughout the morning and into the day, the Owl sat in the shade atop his perch, cursing and blessing the endless streams of passersby until the silent dusk came upon the city of Shavew. Then came the time for my desperate one to arrive, accompanied by a high elf doused in flour and dough. He was a withered, lanky old man with salt and paprika hair covered in fine silks and furs. He was taller than the Owl''s human-sized frame perched atop his cane. 190.5 centimeters of man who drank himself to an elevated status with a levitation potion, floating helplessly beneath a haunting figure of darkness clawing so desperately at his chest.


    Helpless, the desperate one was. Helpless, like his plea.


    ¡ª


    [The Path of Zefroth, Step 3: The Mind of Night - Complete.]


    [Reward: Mutation - [Nightmare Gland] The development of the nightmare gland assists the devil in entering the minds of mortals to supplant information or unpleasant thoughts, make deals, or form pacts.]


    [The Path of Zefroth, Step 4: The Minion.]


    [To continue down the path to the end of the Abyss, you must make a pact with a mortal who is suitable to become your first Undying Fiend.]

 303 - Gods Land

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    19th of Trescia, 1492.


    Protectorate of Bakewia, Atford County. Winwell.


    17:52.


    ***


    I found myself equally excited and nervous, disembarking the caravan. It was the first time I stepped foot on soil- or ice- that was not declared part of Shujen. Yet, part of me knew what awaited me in those streets. However, the other part of me sought to allow the childish wonder to escape my body. A task that was easily done as said.


    Winwell was a place I thought to rarely exist above the surface. It was a place of magic where buildings floated freely in the air, freeing the streets below from noise or traffic. A place where carriages and carts lumbered about on their own power or floated above the street, eager to ferry any passersby to their destination. Regrettably, I seemed to be the only one lost in the daze. Blude and her crew took to the air the moment they disembarked, swimming through the streets as if they knew them like the backs of their blades. The other two were in their wolf forms, lumbering beside Amun in the same way their progenitors had. And Iris¡­


    She was uncannily quiet, riding atop Amun''s shoulders with her hands outstretched like a bird''s wings. She was even rattling her tongue loudly, apparently to mimic whatever an ''airplane'' was. Much to my annoyance, she persisted up the hill, to where a mushroom-like tower sat overlooking the rest of the city. There, we met Blude and her girls, who seemed to have multiplied in our absence. I assumed she took Amun''s advice and recruited some followers but second-guessed it with her looking over the need to introduce them before we entered, scowling at them instead.


    Only when a human approached did they react in any way besides fear. The human was a male no older than I, although his hairless face made him look ten years younger. He was dressed in a strange garb of a strong-looking material dyed a dark gray. Pockets were stitched on strange places throughout. The outer-thighs. The shoulders and outer arms. And of course, the chest, embroidered with his name and what I assumed to be the name of his organization.


    He cocked his head upon seeing the girls behind Blude and smiled, showing a row of teeth whiter than the eyes of a cave horror before his shoulder-length locks shook loosely. "Told you they''d show up." He laughed teasingly, and Blude spun back to face the motley crew of two humans, a gnome, and a surface elf. All children of her age. All girls.


    "W- we wanted to join you, Blude." The gnome muttered.


    Blude only rolled her eyes. "So you take over my spa, huh?" She spun to face the oddly dressed human, shaking her head. "That warrants extra work outta you lot."


    With the newfound respect I gained for Blude, I faced the human, smiling in a way I otherwise would not have.


    "Edward Pascal." He bowed in greeting. "Proprietor of Pascal Industries. Soon to be Imperator. And." He motioned to Amun. "Amun''s Chief Engineer."


    I nodded in understanding. "He is the one you hand-picked at¡­ what was it, Corvus Tower?"


    "The very one." Ed beamed proudly and with a dramatic flair that brought my eyes around his lair. "Now, with a tower of his own. Welcome."


    He spun, bringing us to follow him through a veritable wonderland. Everywhere I looked, more of those otherworldly devices appeared- those¡­ vehicles, in various stages of completion, with illusory windows that showed dramatizations of what they could do in perpetual loops. One machine in particular left me stuck in place for minutes. It ran on the black oils found in abundance underground and in the Darkworld, giving birth to fire that drove a massive auger into solid ground, crushing it into chunks that were ferried out the backside. Other devices used the same oils, carriages that spun their wheels at ferocious speeds, spitting up plumes of sand as they raced across the sand seas. All without magic.


    It was like something out of dwarven fantasy. The airplanes Iris spoke of were no different. They were nothing more than metal tubes with spinning blades or fire-spitting devices attached to their fixed wings to push them through the skies. Yet they came in a multitude of shapes and sizes that would have been unbelievable were it not for them being fabricated before my eyes. I saw ships larger than the goblin settlements of Shujen. Some were even capable of diving into the ocean depths. Others were capable of ascending beyond the skies themselves. Again, all without magic. And yet, every vehicle I saw had a version that used enchantments as a fuel source, and then more variants that used magical items, materials, or enchantments to propel or lift them.


    "This place triples as my house, workplace, and headquarters for sales and distribution," Ed explained, seemingly to me alone. "My brand as a grandmaster artificer is creating these vehicles and the infrastructure to support them. Roads, bridges, tunnels, you name it; both enchanted and naturally powered, capable of traveling across land, sea, or air with ease."


    "I assume those would come at a steep price." I managed to say, though I wanted to point out other things.


    "Indeed." He sighed with a surprising amount of disappointment. "As it stands, only the most established merchants and nobles can afford my products. And that''s after reducing the price from their assessed worth. So, to compensate for the missing income, I formed a chartering business. One where the undead teaches the orphans to operate the vehicles, giving the common folk the means to travel across the realms.


    "On top of that." He paused, pulling my eyes to the largest buildings floating at eye level. "That''s one of my workshops. It''s an apprentice house for the kids of this region. I supply everything. There''s one in every city within the county now. Once we build roads to connect them, we''ll be branching out to the surrounding counties."


    "I see. But¡­ well, why?" I asked, ignoring the leering gazes of Blude and her gang. It was something that I needed to know. "You are not exactly dependent on gold. None of us are, I have come to learn."


    "Well." Ed laughed through his nose as Amun often did. "It''s certainly not out of the goodness of my heart."


    "Then why?" I demanded.


    "Because it''s fascinating, is it not?" he laughed. And I was a bit taken aback. "Think about it. Interest in these vehicles will rise as more people use them to travel. As more people gain access to them the general cost will go down and people''s proficiency in tinkering with them will rise. Soon enough, everyone on the peninsula will be driving and flying around. Think of how many people will create unique designs from scratch or otherwise customize them. Or how many will race their vehicles or create some other type of game, festival, tradition, or crazy thing because of the knowledge they gained from places like this?


    "Besides." He shrugged. "Many Bakewians have expressed their interest in joining my Legion already. Those who don''t want to be Legionaries still want to work with me as contractors and engineers. I didn''t even have to try!" He shrugged again, smirking this time.


    "Huh. Heh. Hehe! Hah!" I laughed. And for several long minutes, I could not stop. Everything- my very life had become so¡­ crazy. It was unbelievable. But¡­ "I think I understand you now, Amun." I wound down, facing Amun and his raised brows. "You spoke of your previous life with pain and disdain. A world without magic, you said? Filled only with the cruelties of man and the machinations made by them?"


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    I awaited his nod of affirmation before continuing. A wait that did not take long. "You fail to see, as you would put it, the other side of the coin. Your world without magic birthed a predatorily tenacious curiosity within your people that the denizens of the realms could never achieve. How could we, when magic gives us a simple answer for everything? We do not need to know every rule or behavior of nature. Not when, despite our ignorance, magic allows us to bend those rules to our will. But your people had no magic; no mana. And it was that lack of magic that birthed a divine curiosity in your people that yielded divine intelligence. Having no magic, your kind sought the absolute truth of all things. More so, your kind never gave up when there seemed no truth to uncover. For eons, you toiled, you invented, progressed, regressed, and made leaps and bounds until you came to learn the secrets of the very universe. All in only a few hundred thousand years; over six thousand times faster than the elves of Youtera or any creature on the Mortal Plane.


    "Disease and death- your very bodies became your playthings, able to be changed at a whim. The matter of the universe was as pliable to your kind as clay. If there was something your people could not do, you used your knowledge to create something that would do it for you and never ceased to improve it. In our eyes, that would be like an entire realm understanding the essence of every conceivable mana affinity and having the prowess to use them all as they will.


    "You were humans, yes. Weak and frail, yes. Yet your people embodied the human trait all elves are wary of, no matter how much they deny it: potential. Your people, without magic, had the mind to do what every species of these realms could not." I gestured out the window to where another of those flying machines was beginning to come to life. "Your kind made the realm in your image. And when that was done, you sought other realms- planets- to impose your will upon.


    "You were humans, yes. Weak and frail..." I repeated, turning my gaze over the onlookers before they met his once more. "In your eyes, that may be true. In my eyes, however, I see you as one who came from a realm of seemingly human War Gods who needed no magic to be divine. What is more, I now understand your wish to bring everything you loved about that realm into this one, leaving those painful and disdainful things behind."


    "That is much the way we understand it as well."


    Although Ed spoke, I heard others echo the same sentiments. Two sets of feet approached during my rant but paid it little mind. Thus when I turned to see two humans dressed in blue clothes similar to Edward''s, I was half as surprised as they were to meet my eyes. Though theirs quickly darted away as they turned to embrace Iris, distancing themselves in the same motion.


    "Horace. Lois." Amun nodded to them before gesturing to me. "This is Etan." Still fearful, they only nodded from their posts so far away. "They''ve been the citizens about science and engineering," Edward explained. "Unknowingly giving worship to Amun in the process."


    "But engineering is not one of my religions. I only have the Black Plume and the Order of Worlds." Amun clarified.


    "One more than any other God, oh dear." I snorted with pure sarcasm that went largely untranslated through my monotonous tone.


    "You seem a lot more well-behaved, Blude." The old man, Horace, lightened up enough to chuckle. The Gerdian in question, on the other hand, shied away from the remark, facing away with her arms crossed and her face flushed.


    "Aha! So this is where you were before you came to the Halls." I looked at the girls in a new light. Then looked around for any more children. "Where is the next one?"


    "With my other half." Amun cryptically assured me. Then a small painting of him appeared to my side while his voice echoed in my mind. ''He''ll be taking care of our Troupe''s other half while we tend to our business.''


    I only nodded. Meanwhile, Amun turned to Blude to ask if her new additions made their pledge. Upon receiving their affirmation, he sent them off with a talking skeleton to be measured for new clothes. In the meantime, Geri and Freki napped peacefully while I explored this miraculous place as much as possible. Which, to my dismay, was not much. Only fifteen minutes passed before the girls emerged in the same fine clothes as Blude, wherein Amun led us into one of the many workshops within the tower.


    Referred to as a ''Module,'' it was a large doorway that gave way to a tiled floor that seemingly stretched infinitely in all directions. No walls composed this room. Only a backdrop of black with countless motes of colored lights gave any sense of boundary to the structure while the blue, red, white, and orange stars simultaneously bathed the room in inspiring light.


    "What happens when nature meets engineering?" Amun teased our minds but waited not for an answer. He did not care to hear it, I assumed, as he spawned a colossal abomination within the space before anyone could form a response.


    It remained in midair like an ominous messenger from another plane that spoke with no sounds or movements. ''W'' shaped pupils stared emptily out into the starry abyss while it spoke to the most primal parts of my soul. Tendrils, like ones on the caravan, dangled to the ground like the roots of a great tree penetrating the caverns of the Darkworld, hiding not an ancient monolith, but a horrendous beak. A maw that could swallow a hill. And that was just the head; tame compared to the thousands of meters of flesh trailing behind it, making an elongated ovoid monolith with great tapestries draped loosely from the edge.


    It elicited a feeling similar to those described when standing before a great dragon. But¡­ "What in the Seventeen Hells is that?"


    "A creature from my divine domain. A Giant Astral Cuttlefish." Amun cheekily explained before he began withdrawing and methodically arranging exotic wood, stone, metal, water, various machinations, and more next to and below the great monolith.


    "By ''Astral''¡­ you do not mean the Astral Realm?"


    "No." Amun shook his head, pointing to the starry abyss while more materials were withdrawn and worked by the second. "Astral, as in connected to the stars. Although, calling it that isn''t entirely accurate either. What my people call deep or outer space, the cosmos, or the universe, is an infinite void of three spatial dimensions affected by the stream of time- a rate of change in space. It''s ruled by four fundamental forces and ununiformly filled with matter and energy. Gravity, the weakest force, causes matter to aggregate into stars, planets, asteroids, and other celestial bodies, forming the objects we see in the heavens- largely inhospitable realms so far apart that even we struggled to reach them in our lifetimes. The cosmos is extremely hostile to all forms of life as we know it. Yet it was a place I spent most of my past life in, dwelling in engineered habitats built to withstand the hostilities of the infinite void.


    "Stars and the cosmos are represented by twilight, as the motion of stars and planets is what brings about dusk and dawn. Planets, celestial bodies, or worlds themselves, are represented by Moonlight. That''s why Blude and the others fly the way they do. They have the power of the seas, both the seas of water, air, and maybe sand too, I dunno. At any rate, they can swim through air like water and breathe in water like air.


    "As for this¡­ well, I suppose I''ll call it a Space Cuttlefish." With a sigh, Amun turned, releasing an absurd concentration of divine energy.


    Now, I knew little of artificing and even less about engineering. But I knew of magic. I knew of ki. Thus I could understand how Amun''s magic, both divine and arcane, was re-purposing this dead creature in a way that even a necromancer of the Nox could never achieve on their own.


    I felt both my jaw resting on the floor and my eyes bursting from their sockets. There was no need to even concentrate on the wave of necrotic energy flowing over the creature as if it were fleeing from the wave of blue at its tail. As quickly as lightning flashed but yet slow enough to allow me to witness every detail, the deathly energy flowed through flesh, nerves, organs, and muscles wholly, hollowing and discarding the parts as if to use them as fuel to drive its flight from the blue wave.


    When it came, that wave of blue brought miracles that melded material with the organic. The shrunken husks of organs inflated with the wave of energy, expanding the interiors to make way for soils, plants, buildings, and ponds. In mere moments, bodily systems like the nerves had become wide roads, staircases, or railed passages leading to various parts of the structure. The liver was hollowed and dubbed the ''cargo bay.'' The stomach became the center of industry. The eyes, brain, and, arms formed into private wings for the lot of us.


    The miraculous process ended with a highly volatile crystal merging with the heart and priming it to life in a burst of radiative heat. As the beast inhaled its first breath, untold volumes of air rushed through a conical chamber on the creature''s belly, giving rise to a rising whine before it evened out into a smooth hum, and then faded to silence.


    First, a twitch, then the ''tapestries'' along the edge of that elongated ovoid body began to glow purple and undulate, sending the creature on a slow drift that corrected just as the pupil twitched.


    Almost as if by reflex, Amun lashed out, sending a lair stone rocketing into the great maw of the beast. It seemed to not even realize it consumed the morsel. Nor did it seem to realize the burst of energy that only came from a lair stone taking shape in its innards. It only turned to the mountain of inorganic materials and fresh food deposited beneath it and began feasting.


    "The answer to my question is Biomimicry. The practice that, I assume, influenced my hold over nature. That," Amun pointed to the creature, pulling itself low to the ground, "is our Zeta-Class Uma. Our capital ship, Legion headquarters, and Empire within our Empire of Empires. Our mortal home. I call her the Cuttleship.


    "Get in and get settled. We''re going to my Emporium tomorrow."

 304 - Sore Thumb

    Freki.


    20th of Trescia, 1492.


    Protectorate of Bakewia, Eldereach County. Shavew.


    16:24.


    ***


    After the Cuttleship, I assumed nothing could surprise me. I was wrong. Shavew was a land of the Arcane. Streets existed not on the ground but dwelled in the skies. Not were they made of stone, for they were composed of water. On the ground were wide avenues for walkers, lined to the horizon with food serving stalls or vendors selling various goods. Magical goods, almost exclusively.


    I had been walking since my arrival in this place. We all have been, I assumed, since we left the Cuttleship with word to be back by sundown for whatever Amun had in store for us. While the sights were a pleasant way to pass the time, hours passed before I found what I was looking for.


    A tavern.


    How I''ve always wished to go to one. To eat and drink and be merry like the common man. That was true for both halves of my being. And so, I waltzed proudly through the door of the first tavern I saw.


    It was a grand place of stone and wood. Not the massive tents or cold castle I was accustomed to. A great hearth spread from the center of the room to the far wall, guarded by iron rails to protect the drunk patrons from themselves and to absorb and bleed heat out into the room. Every table surrounding it seemed filled with every type of person born from the tales of lore. The weary workers, seeking a hot meal and some ale after a day''s work; the eager adventurers, looking for requests or sharing stories; the shady rogues and hooded rangers brooding in the corner; even a few bards, trying to bed everyone they laid eyes on. I even spotted a fighting ring as I approached an empty table but thought not of entering. Instead, I distanced myself further and lifted my sight to the private booths and luxurious tables above, but elected to sit at a table that allowed me to watch the proceedings still.


    It took a while to learn the place''s customs through observation, but I eventually learned to tap a crystal embedded into my table and found a seasoned barmaid trotting up to me moments later, requesting a gold coin in exchange for the finest meal on the menu: A roast with seasoned vegetables and as much ale as one could drink. I placed two coins in her hand, asking for information or advice on hiring farmhands in exchange for the second piece.


    "The lone farmhouse at the southwestern end of town, son." The dwarven woman said after a moment of wide-eyed shock. "A boy by the name of Amos Towns is who yer lookin'' for. Or rather, he''s been lookin'' for ye. Poor boy never wanted to be a farmer and his pa kicked the wheel a few years back. Has a heart of gold, he does. Wants to sell his pa''s business inta good hands an'' make sure his workers is looked out fer. But no one in these parts wants a farm."


    "Not until today." I nodded with a toothless smile. "I''m establishing a farm of my own. Naturally, I need workers for that endeavor and am willing to pay top gold for their work."


    "Aye." She nodded without delay. "Word ''round these parts is some type a'' creature was grantin'' wishes to some lucky folk. Amos was one of ''em. Been spoutin'' about how someone would come an'' see him a few days now. By that an'' the mark on yer chest, I say you won''t be needin'' negotiating. Now, is that all fer ya?"


    "Yes." I bowed my head. "Thank you."


    She hummed softly and turned on her heels to make a mad dash to another table. She probably forgot the conversation the moment she left, but I would remember her kindness and willingness to help for years to come. With her gone, however, I turned my attention to my meal and found it¡­ palatable. If unsavory. The ale, on the other hand, would simply not do.


    Casting aside any notion of taste, I wolfed down my meal and split my attention between the distant fight and the lights in my vision- this¡­ augmented reality. It took some time to get used to it, but I grew accustomed to filtering between the ''Tabs'' and ''Apps'' without much conscious effort.


    It was the second group of tools that I mentally commanded to open. Specifically, the app titled ''GetHelp.'' A simplistic name with a revolutionary purpose. Using my mind''s voice, I commanded. ''Create objective. Dubbed: Operation False Shepherd.''


    It responded immediately, forming a blank sheet of parchment that floated before my eyes like a spell tome seen only by me.


    ''Meat. Dairy. Ale. Herbs and Spices. Cereals. Fruits. Vegetables.'' The words wrote themselves on the parchment as I thought the commands. But when there were no more commands to give, the application recognized my intent and changed the words on its own accord. Suddenly, blips and banners appeared to notify me of the changes to my ''Lessons'' tab regarding educational courses centered on concepts like commercial agriculture and agribusiness. Meanwhile, the False Shepherds I declared I needed were reorganized into a list of ten professionals meant to oversee a different industry, each with subordinates specialized in a different crop.


    Casting it all aside for the time being, I tagged the location on my map and followed the glowing trail it spawned while I studied the tasks and objectives I''d need to complete to bring my plan to greatness. And once that was done, I came upon a realization.


    I had a severe disdain for large cities. Doubly so for cities with such weird magic. Exiting the gates felt like the world was lifted from my shoulders. And in a way, it had. No longer was I gawked at by the never-thinning crowd. But here, among the hills of swaying grains, I felt free enough to almost sprint to the farmhouse near the woodline. I received many stares here as well. But curiosity, intrigue, and, much to my amusement, hope fueled their gazes rather than awe or fear. It took not long after that for the one in question to approach me. Amos was perhaps around eighteen. A head or three shorter than I but stacked with the muscle that came from working the fields for years.


    Not wanting to unsettle him, I made myself as placating as possible and spoke loud enough for the eavesdroppers to hear clearly. "My name is Freki. I have come because I was told you have hopes to sell this farm. Assuming, at least, you are Amos Towns?"


    Blue eyes widened as he caught sight of my teeth. He quickly looked around to the onlookers and turned back with a look of confusion. "Y- yeah. I''m Amos but¡­ w- who sent you?"


    "I was sent by no one. A woman at the tavern pointed me here after I made my intentions known. If you were expecting someone else, I did not mean to offend." I said low, bowing.


    "N- no. It''s fine." He stammered, stepping forward but shaking his head once more. "Whatever. You wanna buy the farm?"


    "In truth, it is not the farm I seek but the farmers. Purchasing men is something my morals allow not for, you see. So I will purchase your farm on the condition that those who work on it continue to do so for me."


    My words seemed to ease him, as he stepped back to look me over. "You work for Amun, right? You wear his mark like all the others. You talk weird, though."


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    "You know of him?" I smiled.


    "Of course I know of him!" Amos spat in disbelief. "Everyone in Bakewia knows of him and Sir Edward! I mean, come on!"


    I had to shrug in defeat upon following his finger to the floating domiciles littering the sky and the ''tractors'' I saw in Ed''s tower scattered about the field. And it was then that I noticed a new ribbon of light floating in my vision. "Yes, I work for him." I smiled gratuitously.


    "Name your price." He said sternly and with a face of stone.


    I did my best to mirror it. "I offer you one hundred thousand gold for your farm and its workers. They will be lodged, protected, and employed with a yearly salary of two thousand six hundred gold in addition to bonuses in the form of magical items and travel."


    Any man would have recoiled upon hearing such a number. But Amos held firm for several long seconds until his face broke into a smile. "You got any room for an artist?"


    "I do not." I shook my head and nearly laughed at the color draining from his face. "However," I said, inflating his hopes once more. "Amun has expressed interest in hiring an artist as a vassal, if not a Legionary. If you would come with me, you can ask him yourself."


    ***


    Geri.


    Shavew Outlands.


    6:02 PM.


    ***


    While the floating rivers, bustling alleys, and populous streets were impressive, nothing was more soothing than the quiet peace of the wilds. That said, I managed to fulfill one of my lifelong dreams of shopping; and in a magical town to boot.


    Never before had I the chance to spend money, let alone own any, so I spent hundreds of gold at restaurants and booths throughout the city before I scaled the walls and spent more on the shop within NoxNet. Even more profitable was the knowledge gained in the process. Knowledge of my innate weaknesses. The first came when I purchased a small trinket and received the difference in silver coins. The burns they left in my palm couldn''t have come from any fire. It was like my soul screamed out in pain. But my only reaction was to drop the coins and play it off as if I wanted the merchant to keep it.


    After I moved beyond the walls, I received another hard lesson. A mere glance at cattle brought on a state of bloodlust that demanded I wrestle it to submission, for it was not only aimed at the cattle but the ranchers as well.


    I succeeded only by fleeing further into the woods, wherein I despaired at the prospect of my brother falling victim to his bloodlust upon remembering our conversation days ago. In being distracted, I was ambushed by a bear and subsequently came upon my third lesson. Enraged and hungry, I allowed the primal urges to consume me and sought to temper them far too late, resulting in my eye and the eye of the beast within, remaining open in tandem.


    In the form of a half-beast, I slayed the bear and sated my hunger. Upon storing the remnants, I sought to lull the human side of me to sleep and returned to the den as a white wolf with blue markings, trailed by others of my kind.


    Amun beamed at the wolves, direwolves, and wild dogs trailing behind me while I curled at his feet to listen to Freki growl and gesture at the dozens of humans crowded behind him. "I intend to have them oversee my... world," Freki said, then squinted hesitantly. "I remember having one above."


    "Eotrom is for vacations, refits, and the afterlife, Freki," Amun said calmly. "Only those who moved there when it was created can remain there. It had to be populated somehow, after all."


    "So then¡­"


    "They can create agricultural worlds when we go to Eotrom to train. They will govern those worlds from the Mortal Plane, however. Those you kill or those allied to you who die will be reincarnated on those worlds as residents while machines and the undead tend your crops; sometimes both. They, on the other hand, will dwell on the Cuttleship."


    "They are managers then," Freki concluded with a childish nod. "That is their job while they join me as companions?"


    "If they wish to join the Legions, yes, they will be your companions. If not, they''ll be like vassals, remaining on the Cuttleship, providing you with food and ale in exchange for land, safety, and freedom. Like Amos to me, if you don''t take him back." Amun smiled at a well-built human standing to the side, then looked back to Freki. "Are you going to pass on your gift to them?"


    Freki''s brows furrowed. "How do I do that?"


    "A bite infused with your sorcery. It should manifest as drool."


    Our faces, mine, Freki''s, and those who came with him, paled and widened in fear. The implications of that shocked me to my core and at that instant, I resolved to never kill with a bite unless it was to spread this blessing.


    "I would recommend telling them all there is to know first," Amun suggested with a curious face.


    Freki only looked to him pleadingly.


    Amun sighed in frustration. "Freki is a celestial. He can transform into a wolf or a wolf-man with the seasonal powers of summer and autumn. That encompasses many things, from elements and the weather to age and plants. By biting you, he can pass that power onto you. Not the celestial part, but the wolf with seasonal powers part. If you want to become celestials, you''ll have to be possessed by celestial wolves like Geri and Freki were."


    Laughing inside, I jostled the human side of me awake, causing a pervasive hunger to overtake me as frosted vines coated my claws and icy flowers engorged my frame, raising my curled stature to Amun''s height. I couldn''t contain my laughter and was fighting against the hunger when they fell on their asses, gasping; Freki included, so I lulled the bestial eye inside shut and felt something recede to my core, causing my fur, ears, and snout to freeze and fall as snow around my skin, pelt vest, and hood.


    Standing tall, I gave them a friendly wave before leaning against the rubble wall. "I''m Geri. Winter Wolf. And Spring, I guess."


    "W- um¡­ God, Sir, w- will we be able to come back?" One of Freki''s asked. "Here, I mean. After we''re¡­ changed."


    "Of course." Amun snorted. "But there will come a time when we leave for good. If you''re worried about leaving your families behind, they can come too."


    That seemed to seal the deal for the lot of them- 52 of them. One by one, they bared their right shoulder to swear fealty to Freki and winced as he bit them hard enough to draw blood, leaving a scorched bite mark that seemed to mimic the open maw of his pauldron; a maw, I just realized, that had been stuffed with a cannonball.


    "Now, with that done, gather your things and return here. And don''t dally. Your first transformation is tonight. It will make you extremely hungry, so take that into consideration." Amun ordered the group before we were led towards a pile of collapsed stone.


    It formed into a doorway as he approached, creating a portal to a large hut of wood and stone amidst an open sky. Inside, was some kind of workshop or laboratory that we passed through to enter a private office, wherein Amun activated an enchantment to spill the room with silver light that formed and morphed into solid shapes.


    "This is the first city I helped." Amun nodded towards the strangely shaped mountain formed by his moonlight. "They have since allied to me and I''ve since been working to make it the capital of my arcane military-industrial empire."


    "Maru?" Freki asked, and the word spawned memories of death. The sweet taste of bandit blood. A vibrant forest. A towering mountain. A dead tree. People.


    "Silas!"


    I recoiled as quickly as the shout left my mouth. Everyone was staring at me, bemused, amused, or anything in between; except Amun.


    "Yes!" He nodded proudly. "I have a meeting with him. You all are to listen."


    With a flick, a silver mushroom at the center of the table shone and poured its energy through the conduits impaled into its cap, releasing a cloud of spores that materialized into a slim man with a prominent widow''s peak standing next to a scholastic brute in fine armor with some two dozen arranged behind them.


    "Silas, Rodin, honored members of the Council." Amun lowered his head in a greeting. "I introduce you to Iris Cole, Blude, Sam, Redd, Etan Za''Darmondiel, Geri, and Freki. A little more than half of my traveling companions."


    "Well met." The slim man- Silas bowed in turn while the brute¡­ Rodin gave a nod while focusing hard on Etan. "I speak for all of us when I state how amazed I am with these devices. Although the learning curve was quite high, we have all adapted. They have improved life on all counts. But¡­"


    "Many of us are still struggling to adapt to the rise in ambient mana." Rodin picked up for Silas. "And, our increasing real estate makes it difficult for the guard to keep up. We need an evolved force. Without one, I fear we cannot begin the Uplift."


    "Not to worry." Amun soothed him with a nod and a gesture to us. "My Troupe will be evolving in a tendays time. With that, the Legion''s training facility shall be formed and, if my plans work out well, the Legions'' instructors will have been trained by midyear. Thus I propose your forces join the first class of Legionaries over here. That would build camaraderie and improve our tactical efficiency, making us most prepared for our return. Like them, you all will graduate as officers, with you as their commander, Rodin.


    "As for the rise." Amun sighed an apology. "I cannot do much until my clerics and priestesses complete their tasks." But, he turned his emotions around with a charming smile. "I can see them coming close to completing them." Amun toppled to lean forward until his waist was parallel to the ground and extended his hands to face his palms upward. "I ask for a little more time."


    "Please stop doing that." Silas groaned. "The God-Emperor should not bow to others so easily."


    Amun countered with a soft smile. "Nor should I cast aside humility for any reason."

 305 - Life on the Hedge

    "My name is Wilson Koorb. It is the Fourteenth day of Trescia. The fifth hour of this morn witnessed me rise with a mind of clouds. Nay, to say my mind was so transparent as to be empty, would be most correct.


    "My timekeeper reported an hour''s deviance from my usual time of rising before I stirred. Upon doing so, I acknowledged transparent patches on my hands as I downed the day''s charge- an arduous task. Taste aside, the sludge resisted flowing through the apparatus designed to facilitate its consumption. Size constraints aside, tipping the cauldron into my maw risked impalement by the giant''s nails. Thus I resorted to¡­ other means."


    I glanced at my favored pen, scribing away in my journal before peeking at the hated cauldron. Twice the size of all the others and eight times as filthy by virtue of the four putrid giant¡¯s nail clippings used to brew the concoction. I nearly lost my stomach simply thinking about it. And so, there was no use in mentioning what occurred during the cleanup. Other than the first results, of course.


    A clean lab made for a clean mind. A mind at ease and braced for the burns brought on by the day. Already, the memories of that putrid brew were burning away to make room for new memories. New experiments. New brews.


    New notes.


    I moved from my bath as quickly as my seasoned knees would allow and found my favored pen waiting patiently above the parchment. A gift from the Knighilian President, it was. Gifted to me decades ago after providing aid to a pandemic in our neighboring country. My prized possession, since the day I discovered its dual functionality. It was not sentient like so many believed. And a good thing too, for I would want not a pen nor parchment to chatter or seek discourse while I worked. I would speak. It would write. That was the deal. Unsaid and unwritten since the day we met.


    "Reminder to the Author: Purchase a new chalice immediately." I felt a shudder come over me, accompanying a sick memory once thought to be purged. "The current time is forty-two minutes past the seventh hour of the morn. I report no changes in strength whilst cleaning the abode. As expected of cauldron duties. As I suspect brewing tomorrow''s charge will yield. Thus I note my intentions of venturing into the parks or around the farms to test my strength on some boulders and logs the moment the chosen brew is complete.


    "I have decided it will be a quintuple-duration potion of levitation. I will begin at once. Stomachaches notwithstanding."


    The tinkering stage went off without a hitch. Thus I emerged several hours later, prepped and shielded from the day''s hurdles to let the brew simmer in private.


    It took not long for them to begin.


    "Hey, Will! What''s on the brewing menu today, a Potion of Rat''s Ass Breath?"


    Ignoring the laughter and nose-blocking gestures of the common man, I simply waved. "Stone Giant Strength!"


    "Oh, give us a show again, Will!" Another alchemist, the oldest of them called. "I''ve been praying for you to spew fire all over the city again. I''m sure we could all use another remodel!"


    While some solace was given by the Bright Bridge, the jeers only continued once I crossed into the harbor district.


    "Oh, no gills on Will today." One dockworker mocked. "Shame, I dropped some tools in the drink."


    "I remember one time, he fell outta the sky." A merchant in mid-sale with me remarked to another patron, refusing to hand off my chalice until he bellowed. "Right into the ocean, he went! Lucky he could bend water, else he wouldn''t be here."


    Nearly everywhere I stepped, I heard it. From everyone. Children. Barkeeps. Random passersby. And worst of all, my fellow alchemists. It was the same ridicule as it had been for decades upon decades. My glory days were long gone. But there were some places where I could find solace still. Beyond the western gates was one such place. The farmers usually watched from afar, only approaching to confront the suspicious or interesting oddity that occurred every so often. This day was no different. They tended to their crops and beasts of burden with practiced movements while their eyes remained on the lithe old man heaving boulders overhead. And when one approached, many followed.


    "What are you doing, old man?"


    Damned youths! With his fat face and messy hair. No respect for their elders. "I''ll have you know I''m seventy-two and still spry, boy!" I heaved a massive boulder overhead, scowling to bring the point home. Only for it to be deflected by the most calming voice.


    "That''s Sir Wilson Koorb. Hedge Wizard and Alchemist. The other artificers don''t like him much but, he''s alright in my book. Hedge wizards are more impressive than regular wizards."


    "Kindred spirits, you and I, Amos." I tossed the rock down with a great crash, dusted my palms, and shook the half-elven man''s hand; a self-made man, born of meager circumstances but one who made something of himself through hard work. "The self-taught are the most resilient, are we not?"


    "Are you even evolved?" the other boy asked. He had to be a full decade younger than Amos but had most likely been farming since he could stand. Round, but with muscle. Skin aged like leather and tanned dark on only the face and arms.


    "I am not." I proudly shook my head. "That is what it means to be a Hedge Witch or Wizard. My earlier renown, however, came from alchemy. I am studious but unevolved in both. I have no certifications or degrees. Yet my studies have led to revolutionary alchemical discoveries in increasing the potency and longevity of charges- potions. Today, I survive on the pensions granted by those discoveries, making my rivals envious; leaving my pride, unfulfilled. And so it will remain until I realize my dream.


    "Much like you, eh, Amos?"


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    The young man only shrugged, not even hesitating to give his answer. "Not until I can make sure these guys are taken care of. And maybe send ''em off with some gold to boot. But, yeah. I''m going to be an artist!"


    "That''s good and all, but I like farming." The round boy shrugged carelessly. "Cities are too loud. The farms are nice and quiet. It¡¯s hard, sure, but it feels good seeing the reward for all my hard work come harvest. Just wish I could grow food instead of faerie flax." He chortled to himself as he looked to the ground, joining the silent club shared between me and Amos. Then he turned his gaze up after a few moments. "What about you, Sir Koorb?"


    "Oh," I waved dismissively, "my dream is one deemed an impossibility in the alchemical world. With one grave exception that is beyond taboo." I grimly mentioned, hoping they got the hint. "My dream is to create a potion with permanent effects.


    "But alas." I sighed heavily, cutting off any notions of the impossible swiftly and thoroughly. "Drinking so many potions has proven to be detrimental to my health. Yet another discovery of mine: Alchemical Toxicity. In other words, my end is nigh. Thus I devote myself every day to realizing my dream before I finally keel over. I keep tinkering. I keep working. Damn what the others say! If there is any advice this old soul can give to you lads, it¡¯s this: Follow the desires of the heart in such a way that, if anyone is to be harmed, it is only yourself."


    Giving each of them a bow, I stepped down the path. "I bid you a good day!"


    Oh, how I wanted to keep experimenting. But if those boys, Amos, and that unnamed lad, ridiculed me like all the rest, I feared my soul couldn''t bear the shame. Thus to make some compromise, I stuffed rocks in my pack and pockets to make a crude measurement of when the potion wore off. From there, I made a detour through empty alleys and shaded back roads to enter my second-favorite place, unseen.


    Within seconds, a familiar voice rang out. "The usual?"


    "As per." I smiled, looking up to see a long-eared man with dog-like cheeks that hung loosely from equal parts age and fat.


    Though his skin was deeply tanned, his hair was both naturally and unnaturally stark white like his clothes, and clumps of flour and dough scattered across his arms and face. His gray eyes stared intently at me pulling a stool beneath me with deliberate caution. Then he flicked his pointer at me. "Stone Giant Strength." He correctly mused, then turned around laughing while I threw a silver coin on the counter, as was tradition.


    "You''re the only one who plays this game, Marsha." I shook my head when he returned with my sustenance charges. A long loaf and some butter to be paired with my salted meat and cheese. Plus a glass of fine wine.


    "And yet, you pay along!" The High Elf laughed at himself, playfully waving the coin between us.


    "There''s a reason for that, you know." I laughed, feigning reluctance. "You serve the best bread I''ve had in my life."


    He broke out in rambunctious laughter while I sipped happily on my wine, for we both knew the real reason. We''ve been thick friends since we were boys. ''Bread baking is a bit like alchemy,'' he''d always say, ''only different ingredients.'' Perhaps it was that outlook that made him different from all the others- even Amos- for I knew Marsha would never turn his back on me.


    "So, what''s the word on the river today?" I asked, despite him being in mid-transaction with a customer. I only tended to my meal, awaiting his inevitable return.


    "Nothing new." Came the reply moments later. "Only more rumors regarding the so-called ArcaTech and the clump of rock above Shujen. They say the land is ruled by the dead, now. Sentient, benevolent undead. An artificer claims he went there and was guided to a testing ground by a zombie that contained no evil, where he was encouraged to fire his machinations upon its zombie companions."


    "It''s so ridiculous I can hardly believe it. And it''s the least of the rumors still." I dryly laughed, rolling my eyes. "Some are even claiming he''s a God and say his guild is led by his Demigods."


    "What say you?" Marsha chuckled, though it remained unclear if he was amused by me or the common opinion.


    "Hmm," I mumbled. "Let''s look at the details. There are rumors of him facing a dragon last year but no one saw it happen. There''s the big tree of darkness incarnate he created. All those pillars of rock rose into the sky, turning into the spheres and points of light that remain in the heavens today. Mentions of this¡­ Legio Noctis began popping up everywhere. And then there''s the fact that he became famous in a tenday- more infamous than being the Necro King''s great-grandson made him. His vassal, this... Edward Pascal has carriages that drive themselves and his master has a product line of spatially enchanted storage containers, communications devices, and enchantments that can lift a building into the sky.


    "Thus my answer is this. I would have to meet him to give you an accurate answer." I unceremoniously shrugged, a smug grin on my face that grew wider as Marsha rolled his eyes.


    "Those devices are greater than any Bag of Hoarding I''ve heard of. They''re temperature-controlled, timeless, and virtually infinite. I''ve got a mountain range of bread that''ll stay fresh for a thousand years." He boasted, and I had to admit their worth.


    "I admit to acquiring one from a third party in exchange for several potions. He only got rid of it due to purchasing a larger one. A small box, it is. But it holds all of my alchemical ingredients. But the others, I remain skeptical about." I added. "Any device capable of such powerful scrying makes eavesdropping an ease for the seller."


    "Having one''s light pour from the night sky isn''t enough, I suppose, but so too is that true for the buyer." Marsha countered with a knowing grin. "Imagine such a device used here. I could bring my patrons entertainment from across the Known Realms whilst allowing me to identify and track potential thieves."


    "I''ll concede when I see it." I quipped.


    A few more moments of conversation saw my meal finished and my departure acknowledged. Then I was back on the arduous trek to the lab, emptying my pack pockets while blind eyes and muted ears faced the onlookers. Only when that door of wood and iron sealed shut behind me did my eyes open to reality, finding my favored pen waiting for me above its beloved parchment.


    As per our agreement, I began to speak, prompting it to scribe.


    "I will begin the final testament of this day by stating tomorrow''s charge shall be a potion of haste brewed with the finest materials in my collection. I will use every technique I have developed to increase the potency over the longest possible duration. I hope this will provide latency in the perceived dosage, resulting in the common effect lasting for¡­ according to my calculations, seventy-eight hours.


    "Let it be known, this otherwise drastic brew was birthed from the revelations born by today''s charge wearing off. It was shortly before the ninth hour of the evening when I departed Marsha''s Bakery. The day''s charge wore off shortly thereafter, prompting me to empty the weight I put on to measure the effect. Within minutes of that act, I began to feel sluggish, frail, and fatigued. And then I grew insatiable. It is now thirty minutes past the tenth hour of the evening. In the approximate time between my arrival and now, I have consumed over half of my food stores. I am now stable, though I have lost considerable weight.


    "This has led to a new hypothesis regarding the energy source of potions being sourced from the body, rather than from the brew, as previously thought. Perhaps both, with there being some threshold before vital energy is taken. In this case, the charge would simply be a catalyst for a temporary evolution. The more ever-lasting the evolution, the greater the backlash. If my stock of Fae, divine, and extra-planar ingredients does not achieve this result. I will concede the ever-lasting evolution to be an impossibility. If in the event I do not perish first. The potion will take three days to complete.


    "I am to begin at once."

 306 - Black Bird

    "My name is Wilson Koorb. It is the Seventeenth day of Trescia. The third hour of this early morn saw me complete my Potion of Expeditious Haste. It is¡­ wondrous- the most vibrant shade of sky blue I have ever witnessed. I ate some provisions, bathed, and rested the instant the brew was safely stored. It is now the fifteenth minute of the fifth hour of the evening. I have yet to take the charge slated for days ago. Thus I note my consumption of my Levitation Potion at the thirty-seventh minute of this evening''s fourth hour.


    "As this feeling of detachment came over me, I scanned through my notes and realized this potion will last two days beyond the time slated for the consumption of tomorrow''s charge. Due to yesterday''s revelations, however, I have elected to take this charge at the appointed time. It will be a first for me to consume two potions simultaneously. I will ensure to leave an entry before consumption. In the meantime, I will go to Marsha''s Bakery for conversation and take the rest of the evening lightly. I am still fatigued from yesterday, and the nature of the day''s charge calls not for strenuous activity."


    Muffled through a cloth or not, my favored pen accurately inscribed each word spewed from my mouth. That alone was a point of pride that could brighten any day, and it often did. But, not today. Today there was a change to my beloved pen that was only noticed once my words were spent. I looked upon it and smiled, my proud eyes; my spirit plummeted.


    No longer was my pen white like pearl, it was black like night. No longer was the tip a shiny steel or silvery metal. It was gold. No longer did it have a smooth and plain design. It was carved and etched ostentatiously. It was¡­ beautiful. So beautiful that it seemed to call out to me, demanding I place it in my pouch, rather than forsake it in my lab while I left.


    It was so strange, the feeling of something vanishing the moment the pen fell into my grasp. Like a burst of power that faded into nothing as quickly as it came, my pen''s strange design- the black, the gold, and the etchings- faded so fast that it was nearly unrecognizable to the forefront of my mind. I simply pocketed the device and allowed the feeling of detachment born from my potion to take hold, lifting me from the ground before I left my abode, ignorant of the seed taking root in the back of my mind or the sinking feeling within my gut.


    The day''s strangeness seemed to rise as time went on, as did the blind ignorance of what was within. For the first time in decades, there was no taunting. No ridicule. No eyes looking on in pitiable disgust and no mouths snickering as I passed them by. The river roads and wide avenues were noticeably sparse, yet the city of Shavew seemed to buzz with energy regardless. Those who could be seen were taking the river roads to the furthest point of the Bright Bridge District and continued on foot past the East Wharf and out the gates. I moved in the opposite direction, coming across several individuals running- sprinting, even. Not out of fear. Out of¡­ anticipation or excitement. I felt no such things. At least not until I entered Marsha''s Bakery and saw the old high-elven hound dog leaning against the counter like always.


    I went through the usual routine of placing a handkerchief below my salted meat and cheese while Marsha topped up my chalice and deposited a fresh loaf and butter stick beside my meal.


    "You could''ve at least walked in." He lamented with a soft laugh. "I didn''t even have to try."


    Smiling softly, I placed a silver coin on the counter and jerked my thumb over my shoulder. "Had to make sure the best baker in Bakewia didn''t run off on me."


    "And I''m glad I didn''t!" He laughed, swiping the coin with gusto. "Seeing you float up to the counter is a treat in itself. Seeing you walk, on the other hand¡­" he let the words hang in the air, allowing an exaggerated wince to speak in place of words.


    "Alright, jackass." I laughed, moving off the stool to levitate in a seated position, bringing on a fit of laughter for several minutes that ended with me moving back to my seat to point out the empty streets. "So, what''s with the mob? It''s like everyone decided on an exodus and is happy about it."


    "Have you heard of what happened to Atford County?" he grinned smugly, knowing the answer that was only accentuated by my deadpan gaze. "Pascal''s Industry happened." He grinned wider. "He contracted with Lord Atford and constructed some factory in Winwell that makes those vehicles of his. Then, he put depots, he calls them, in every city from Steamer to Drethyr, filled with those vehicles. The residents learn to use them. They then make money ferrying people across the country in mere hours. Dozens of people per day. Per vehicle! Some think they can travel across the Peninsula just as quickly."


    "That''s-" I cut myself off, knowing damn well that such a thing was indeed possible; at least, for them.


    "Atford is now an esteemed county. As prestigious as all the others! And that''s not all!" Marsha added with budding enthusiasm. "The citizens of Atford County, from children to the elders, are educated at no cost. It''s been said he''s only doing it to recruit members into his subguild but who cares. What''s interesting is..." He grinned teasingly. "He has some sort of priests with him."


    "Okay." I nodded, attempting to cast aside my amusement to look at things logically. "But¡­" I started, "That doesn''t explain the uproar. Or the exodus."


    "Ahh!" He nodded slowly, shifting his gaze from the floating buildings to the window overlooking the harbor district. "There are other rumors. Rumors of a large owl perched atop a mithral cane. Blacker-than-black with eyes filled with stars. They say it''s in the park." He turned back to me, a dangerous glint of curiosity burning deep in his eyes. "They say it grants wishes."


    "Blacker-than-black with eyes of stars," I muttered, attempting to dig any mention of the sort from my memory, to no avail.


    "Aye!" He nodded, knowing I''d never succeed. Knowing I''d be interested. "They say it''s an avatar of some God. Who, they don''t know. But I thought about going to see for myself once I closed up. What say you?"


    My answer came in the form of help; helping Marsha close up his bakery in record time. It being my first time notwithstanding, we managed the feat in less than an hour and a half. A stunt that seemed to prompt Marsha into making his trademark declaration.


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    Alchemy wasn''t so different from bread baking after all. Only the ingredients varied, being less¡­ caustic. Significantly so.


    Outside his bakery, it was almost like we were kids again, racing as fast as our knees would allow through the sleeping city. Only, back then, the City slept because there were fewer enchantments. Now, the City slept because its inhabitants sought new horizons, spurred on by a sole, eldritch being.


    As the tales told, we found it in the middle of the park''s biggest clearing beneath a street lantern. The halfling-sized creature was perched atop a mithral cane like a statue, preferring instead to draw in the eyes of any passersby with the flowers, morsels, coins, and trinkets offered and scattered below its esteemed perch. Its wings, blacker than the blackest night, seemed lined with a gold radiance that shone in the light of dusk. Its starry eyes, black almonds on a face shaped like a drawn heart, seemed to gaze upon the fabric of reality itself. Its talons, small though they were, seemed as hardy as adamantine and as powerful as a dragon''s claw.


    "Use your fancy monocle," Marsha whispered, forcing air into my lungs through shock. "See what it is!"


    With several more breaths, I did as asked and soon felt the air rush from my lungs. "It''s a bloody contradiction is what it is," I muttered in response to Marsha''s inquiry.


    "What does that mean?" he impatiently asked.


    "It''s¡­ everything. Good and evil. Undead, but alive. A Fiend and a Fae. Wicked like a devil¡­ and divine like a God."


    Seemingly frustrated, Marsha stepped towards it with a grunt, hesitated, then placed himself before it with a bow. "You are the Owl? The one who grants wishes?"


    "I am indeed the Owl." It nodded, replying in a booming sonorous voice that reminded me of a great sage. "However, the Owl does not grant wishes. The Owl assists in fulfilling the desires of the soul. So tell me, what is it that your soul desires?"


    For whatever reason, Marsha looked to me as if he was searching for an answer, then shrugged before I could begin to formulate one. "Well, I just want to make and serve baked goods and keep my family happy. And, I''m doing that already. So..." He shrugged again. This time to the Owl. "I have everything my soul desires. Not unless I can bake more and keep my family happier." He chuckled awkwardly. But the Owl replied by waving its wing, sending a black feather lined with golden light drifting his way.


    Almost fearful of it touching the ground, Marsha reached out to catch the feather with a child-like enthusiasm. Only for it to disperse into countless motes of light upon his success, freezing him in place for a few long moments until, suddenly, a gasp escaped his lips, his eyes turned wide, and his head craned back to gaze up into the sky and laugh in maddened disbelief. Then he spun, sprinting until he remembered me, and dug his heels into the ground to halt his motion.


    "Go!" I waved, smiling with pride and awe and disbelief mixed with a thousand indescribable emotions. "Tell me about it when I next see you."


    With a nod, he was on his way. Thus I turned with a sudden feeling of trepidation weighing over me; for now, I alone stood before this eldritch being.


    So small, it seemed at a distance. But its stature bloomed with each concurrent step into its domain; from the size of a child or halfling to the stature of a man and beyond to a giant of giants, wherein it blossomed into a titan of feather and star, dusk and wing. Like a mouse standing before a God of Gods, I felt as if every fiber of my being was laid bare for the being to scrutinize and judge. And yet, it expected questions and demands. Thus I had no choice but to give answers and compromises.


    My eyes remained locked on those starry almonds, forcing a part of me to despair from the impossible task of uttering a single word to this being while another part was guided into asking the most prevalent question to haunt my being. "What will happen to Marsha?"


    "The Owl has blessed Marshalanorn. He and his family will migrate to greater lands. Lands where he can ''bake more.''" The Owl raised its wings in quotations, letting out a series of short but horrendous screeches that I assumed to be laughter. Then it leaned forward on its perch, consuming my vision with that heart-shaped face and its unblinking starry eyes. "Do you wish for the same, Wilson Koorb?"


    I gulped, feeling the wind rushing in the wake of its great beak. "H- hardly." I forced out a dry laugh.


    "Then what does your soul desire?"


    My soul was laid bare before this creature of unholy holiness. The Owl knew my answer already. This, I knew, for it lulled me into making it known, yet dared me to speak it aloud, promising the worst to occur should I do so. But¡­ there was no choice I could make¡ªnone, other than to gaze into those starry eyes and declare my most selfish desire.


    "I desire perpetual youth and immortality so that I may realize my magnum opus. Can you bless me- not curse me- with that?"


    "The difference is a matter of perspective." The Owl declared, leaning back and shrinking to its usual, small size. "However, the answer is the same regardless."


    The answer came in a spread of wings that sent me into a pit of darkness. Cold fire lashed across my chest, digging deep into my flesh before I was thrown into some unseen wall of softness. Then, I saw it. The talons digging deep into my flesh but cutting into my spirit. Then, I felt it. The weight of a titanic owl, standing on top of me as if I were a captured mouse dangling above an endless pit. Then, I sensed it; the gust of haunting winds spinning in the wake of the Owl''s folding wings, revealing the notebook, chalice, and alchemical equipment that was all too familiar. Then, the Owl pressed its beak to my nose and screeched. "No."


    The declaration sent those starry eyes on a path to consume everything. My very soul was thrown into a wicked pit of endlessness with enough force to stir the most primal essence in existence from its slumber. The journey was over in a matter of seconds. And yet it seemed to take eons to cross that endless chasm and slam into the domain of the undetectable, the unknown, the unthinkable. It was a realm that could be stared into without sensing anything, ever. Yet, I sensed it almost immediately. A stirring of the undetectable, moving in this timeless space to bring a pinpoint of light into view. A sphere of pure white with a black crevasse running down the middle.


    An eye- malevolent like that of a dragon''s.


    The eye twitched down like lightning, focusing on my insignificance before swathes of fleshy land were pulled close to cover the baleful eye in an amusing squint. It then rose to the heavens, bringing jagged teeth the size of mountains to sweep past me and give way to tidal waves pursing together into lips to blow me away with the force of an exploding sun.


    Rocketing- no, falling to whence I came, I plummeted ad infinitum through those endless motes of light and the countless pits of darkness spewing from the devil''s mouth, gaining back what I''d lost in addition to dreaming of a mountain more. No longer was the endless emptiness just that, however, for the awakened devil made the darkness writhe and churn and latch on to my reforming essence. I felt myself¡­ becoming. Becoming what, I knew not besides tainted. Corrupted. Cursed. I knew nothing besides some things I was unaware of before. I had memories and visions and thoughts and dreams.


    Dreams of wicked wizardry and eldritch artificing and grave alchemy that could produce marvels dozens of times over.


    Thoughts of traveling to exotic lands that wouldn''t have enticed me before, to explore and fight exotic creatures for exotic materials, to be used in exotic brews.


    Visions of my wish being found amidst the black marble, onyx, and gold hidden in a forgotten hole that I could, should, and would uncover, for a reason I couldn''t quite surmise.


    Memories of flesh, bones, and blood that I needed to find and see, for it somehow was a part of me. Things I needed to become a being of sharp teeth, claws, and horns capable of reducing himself to metal-coated bones.


    Things I needed to become immortal and perpetually youthful.

 307 - City Slicker

    ¡°My name is Wilson Koorb. It is the Eighteenth day of Trescia. I know not how long I remained in my bed. Nor how I got here. I only remember waking at the thirty-second minute of the seventh hour of the morn. It was then that I noticed the correction I will now make.


    "I was not lying on my bed but floating above it. The levitation potion is still in effect. Additionally, there were changes to my body. Trauma I remain unable to find the cause for.


    ¡°Though I awoke in the morn, gasping for air as if I was under threat of drowning and drenched in cold sweat, I found my skin burned dry by the intense rays of the sun. Dust and grime caked my face as if I had been crying in the dirt. My fingers and nails have been chaffed and clawed raw as if I spent the night scratching at the stone. I found no more injuries whilst bathing. But therein¡­ I remembered.


    ¡°I remembered the denial of my wish. And so, with little remorse, I make note of the sorry state of my lab. In my anger, I lashed out, throwing gold and trinkets into every corner of my lab like a child. Only this grimoire and pen, the Potion of Expeditious Haste I brewed, and my self-defense kit- a dagger coupled with a Potion of Red Dragon¡¯s Breath and some provisions- were spared. Everything else from my hands to my material case was thrashed to mangled pieces. What potions I had in storage were thrown against the walls. My storage box was emptied and tarnished. And in a final fit of rage, I consumed both remaining potions and let loose on my abode of over thirty years.


    ¡°Only after my house burned to ashes and I moved like the wind through the smoke-filled alleys with my hood pulled tight over my head, did I remember. I rarely dreamed throughout my life. The times I did were not worth remembering. Most, I didn''t remember at all. But the dream I had last night was the most vivid of all.


    "I know not when it started. But when I realized I was indeed dreaming, I felt myself falling- plummeting ad infinitum between vicious pits of wicked darkness and holy motes of benevolent light. Other than creeping vines, worn stone, and rusted braziers, I remembered naught. At first. Somehow, as time passed, I came to know of an ancient crypt beneath some ruins of a forgotten city. Ruins that overlook the Cakewime Stream to the northeast. Ruins that contain the desires of my soul. With that realization, however, came the loss of my insurmountable rage. No longer was I angry at being denied, for the Owl granted my wish after all.


    "Strangely enough, though, I was not remorseful or disheveled over my recent act of rage. My life is over, that I realize. Now I am in a state of limbo, on a journey to be born anew. Thus I look out at the distant city of Shavew for perhaps the final time to watch the embers of my old life go up in smoke. My only thought is the hope that Marsha found what he was looking for without as much turmoil.


    "With that, I turn to you and ask, what are you?¡±


    My favored pen, as always, inscribed my words without error or complaint. But this time, it seemed to perk up and turn once the final question was written. It seemed to face me, rotating as I sidestepped the grimoire. But it said nothing; did nothing other than drift into my finger as I approached, and once it was tightened within my grip, it pulled me toward my destination.


    Conceding to the pull, I did as I¡¯d done before and used my newfound Expeditious Haste to skip across the ground, allowing the Levitation Potion to carry me with the momentum gained. Through such means, I calculated I could make it to the ruins in just over three hours; were I in the city at least. Were I traveling on the road, the time would¡¯ve been comparable. But alas, the only eastern-heading road paralleled the Bridbayvein River going east-southeast, and only crossed it over a hundred kilometers past my destination. And so, I left the city of Shavew unseen and moved through the snow-lined forest as quickly as I could- which, even with my potion, wasn¡¯t quick at all.


    I was never the athletic type.


    Sudden and unseen dips in the terrain threatened to snap my legs in two with what felt like every other step. Branches came out of nowhere to smack my chest and lacerate my face before they disappeared into the ever-present fog. And when I finally came across open fields, horrendous growls and threatening outlines forced me to take other paths. What should have been nearly three hours of travel wound up taking half a day of suffering through the unforgiving wilds. Having no experience with survival outside the confines of a city, I consumed all my food and water hours ago, thinking myself close to my destination. My dagger remained strapped to my hip. But with no training, its purpose was for brandishing rather than fighting. And though I kept my body heat up by remaining active, I¡¯ve since learned that periods of inactivity resulted in my shivering horrendously.


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    The light in the Darkworld was that my Levitation Potion remained in effect; as was my potion of Expeditious Haste and the Potion of Red Dragon''s Breath. Neither potions nor the thin clothes on my back served to help keep the cold at bay, though, as I couldn''t generate anything less than a self-immolating conflagration and the whispers scratching at the back of my mind hardly gave me any warmth. On the contrary, it pulled me deeper into the realm of a long-gone era frozen in time. Thus I continued without delay.


    Dilapidated long houses stood all around me, collapsed and shivering under the oppressive weight of snow, rot, and the despair of long-forgotten inhabitants. Through the last standing structure I entered, using the extent of my fire manipulation abilities to light sconces and torches as I made my way through a hardly hidden trap door. In time, the oppressive cold began to make way for stagnant, humid air rising forth to release ancient spores into the air above. But far below were signs of a long-since abandoned drow outpost.


    It could¡¯ve been another subterranean species. But the spiders carved into the walls were more than enough evidence for me. At least until I descended further and entered a clearly repurposed burial chamber.


    The walls were lined with the empty tombs of soldiers or nomadic warriors, probably. Fighters who died in such a time that required they be buried here rather than near their homes. All for naught, considering they all got up and walked away at some point. At any rate, only rats, spiders, and bugs called the place home until recently, as the only noteworthy object seemed so pristine as to have been crafted yesterday. It was the object of my visions. A sarcophagus of black marble, onyx, and gold, depicting an abyssal monstrosity of horns, scales, and a sharp maw; ajar and waiting to be discovered. Set on hinges, the cover was tilted back longways to rest against the wall behind it. What was worse, my suspicious pen pulled me forth to gaze inside.


    What I saw would have brought me to my knees just days ago. But on this day, I could only gaze and wonder about the implications and possibilities of what I bore witness to: A skeleton, donned in a silken robe of black and gold. The bones were covered in metal that reflected a clear green under the light of the freshly lit sconces. Adamantine. Yet it had gold accents just like the coffin and the menacing glaive resting next to it.


    Therein was my key.


    In the weapon''s pommel rested an onyx gem, emitting a rim of golden light as if it were held before a candle. Following the whispers and the pull of my suspicious pen, I bade my breath and unscrewed it, taking the utmost care and caution not to wake this avatar of death. Levitating above it made it as easy as it was terrifying. I could position myself most efficiently with ease, but I was somehow drawn to gaze into the endless pits of the skeleton''s eyes. To make matters worse, as I focused with an expeditiously hasted body, the otherwise quick motion was perceived in hours rather than minutes. But eventually, the deed was done. And so, without looking back, I wedged myself between the sarcophagus and the wall, feeling a sense of solace from the lid acting as a roof and the torch acting as a little fireplace.


    A long, deep breath later, my back was against the wall. My focus was forward, centered on the head of this sarcophagus.


    Inlaid on a golden plate was a mural that stole every emotion from my heart and every intention from my body, leaving only a muted sense of awe paired with a silent demand to gaze on into eternity. In that mural that moved in stillness, I witnessed a battle of titans who used explosive-propelled projectiles and hunks of metal that burst with the power of the Gods to wage an eternal war beneath a golden sun. And among all those titanic weapons, one stood as the most abhorrent. So atrocious it was deemed a war crime.


    I realized their natures at once. They were atrocities that would be unleashed should I follow the demands of this suspicious pen by occluding the mural''s gilded sun with this onyx pommel.


    Even if my sudden disconnect happened not; even if the pull of this fiendish wand had been weaker, the gem would have found its resting place all the same. In this case, however, I realized the gem locked into place only after a soft but violent buzz radiated from within the sarcophagus. The most subtle grinding of stone befell my ears next, followed by a soft rush of wind coupled with dust and pebbles falling overhead. Then came the loudest crash imaginable.


    My heart leaped out of its chest with enough force to shatter my soul. What remained of my mind was left frozen in time, listening to the echoes of perilous darkness, sniffing the ever-stagnant air as I stared at what became of the mural.


    Knocked over by the crash of the sarcophagus sealing shut, the metal pane fell to the stone and dispersed into a cloud of darkness. Opening, to my eyes, a vault stocked with several ingots of adamantine, gold, and mithral arranged neatly around my prized item. A grimoire bound in a patchwork of wrinkly leather.


    The face beheld no title. Only a prominent wrinkle of a line promoted the idea of one. Or a name- my name, to be inscribed on the leather.


    My suspicious self-scribing fountain pen, my fiendish wand that somehow became sentient, seemed to agree with me; given the way it ejected from my pocket and plunged itself into my right forearm, drawing enough blood to fill its reservoir and leave my limb wet and numb as it dangled readily above the tome.


    I needed not to ponder what to do next. I only took a deep breath as I had done every day for decades and whispered as quietly as possible. ¡°My name is Wilson Koorb.¡±

 308 - Trial of Madness

    "My name is Wilson Koorb."


    My words were but a whisper. But the response of my sentient self-scribing pen was louder than the wrathful wails of a God. Slowly. Dramatically. It carved the letters of my name, squirting a bit of my blood-turned ink into the grooves until the inscription was complete, bringing a sourceless voice to echo my name with a deliberate malevolence.


    "W I L S O N. K O O R B."


    A legion of horrid screams and psychotic cackling accompanied the call. Scaring, it seemed, the book into a ferocious tremor until it had no choice but to take solace in my left hand, darting from its perch to my palm like a spark of lightning.


    Startled beyond belief, I attempted to toss it, only to find the tome clinging to me like a spoiled child.


    "Why the rush?" The countless whispers echoed, but the pen was the one to float before my eyes, dipping and diving while the echoes whispered. "Why run after your tumultuous journey, Wilson? You''ve already gone through the trouble of coming here. Why not sit? Rest. Read. Who knows what you may learn."


    I found the words more tantalizing than all the sex, gold, knowledge, and drugs in the realms. So, of course, I couldn''t fight against my hand drifting towards the cover. On the contrary, I aided it. I thrust the cover open with a ravenous hunger. But what I found were not words. I saw countless tendrils of darkness pouring out of the parchment akin to an abyssal waterfall plunging toward the basin of my mind. Energy and material composed these falls not, however. They were composed of symbols and glyphs. Languages and characters I''d never before seen. Numbers, equations, and formulas beyond anything the greatest minds in the realms could begin to ponder.


    My tongue and my hands were the places where those languages and characters were branded, implanting a new realm of research into the fabric of my being. My senses were where those symbols and glyphs were inscribed, giving me the means to find these eldritch materials- these elements and compounds, as easily as I could detect Marsha''s bread in the airs of Shavew. My mind was the place where those numbers, equations, and formulas were planted, giving me a new tool to measure and come to terms with reality.


    All, at a cost.


    Each page turned brought a probing sensation into my mind, spirit, body, and soul. Each bit of knowledge gained left me feeling a little colder and emptier. Every awe-inspiring revelation brought on existential despair-inducing realizations that no mortal should have possessed. But it was intoxicating, that knowledge! I couldn''t help but turn! Read! Absorb the darkness into my mind until a strong vibration came through the book, snapping it shut in my hands.


    "Dear, Wilson Koorb, your trial period of the Book of Madness has ended." The whispering voice of my self-scribing wand grinned. "To continue reading, please submit a one-time payment of your soul."


    My eyes went wide. I snapped my eyes up, noticing not just the self-scribing wand, but the sarcophagus, braziers, and sconces appearing much larger than before. "W- what?"


    "Please choose one of the following. One: I accept, please take my soul. Two: I''m not interested right now, please give me some incentive to help me decide. Three: I''m not interested at all. I will now attempt to flee. How would you like to proceed?"


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    As if I gave it an answer. The torch in my hand extinguished the moment the whispers died down, causing me to thrash about in an attempt to retain my bearings. And, being adhered to my hand, the book went flailing with my arms.


    "So, you have chosen option three? Very well."


    I froze in place, For it was not the self-scribing wand whispering to me, but a horrid gasp from the far side of the room. Piercing and grating like metal-on-metal, but smooth like a silken robe. I wanted nothing more than to get away from it. This fiendish wand, however, was not on my side. It buried itself into my right hand the moment after I turned into the gloom of the braziers, bringing about the sudden realization of my potions remaining in effect just before I lunged.


    As I darted across the chamber, the braziers and stone blurred into a field of orange and black streaks. Then, a blade arcing down to dig into the stone directly before me came out of nowhere. A sudden shock made everything distant. It was almost as if the sourceless blast had slowed time. I felt both disconnected and extremely aware of my body all at once. Ignorant of any pain or fatigue but in full control of my motions. Awkward and uncoordinated though they were.


    I somehow made it past the bladed blockade and was about three-quarters of the way up the steps. Perhaps I forgot the book was stuck to my left hand or the pen was impaled in my right palm, but I gazed over my shoulder with a sudden fear gripping my heart. Not a fear of death but a fear of loss. Like I was forgetting something. And somehow, I spotted it- my old grimoire. My old life, guarded behind an adamantine skeleton wreathed in a fleshy suit of amorphous darkness that bulged like muscle as it withdrew its blade with ease.


    My old life was now an afterthought. A new fear gripped my heart when the umbral skeleton charged, spurring me forward and up the stairs as fast as I could move with my new spellbook- my new life, clenched against my chest, increasing the numbing pain in my right arm. That gave me pause but I refused to slow entirely. A part of me refused to even look, demanding I only acknowledge the blood gushing over my new life and onto the floor, reducing the traction of my boots until the stairs decided to ascend into my mouth.


    Cursing, shaking, screaming, I fought to right myself and clear the metallic taste from my mouth. I clawed to pull myself up one more stair. To make it into the light. But alas, there was only darkness to be found.


    That realization pulled the weight of the Abyss around my ankle, dragging my gaze to the gilded teeth of a metal skull that burned with eyes of blue-green fire, where it was held for a short eternity before the world turned on its head.


    Corner after cold corner smacked against my body and skull as if to harmonize with the metallic clangs of armored boots descending the stairs. Each thrum of the ear-splitting march sent my senses to some further away place; leaving, eventually, the most putrid and moist air warring against the biting sterilization of the cold for the conquest of my senses. The cold won, beating the harmonic drum of my heart into submission to have it replaced with a steady crunch paired with a gliding hum. A slow and short song meant to end in a concussive drum of flesh against wood then puttered out into a cacophony of hardly perceptible groans and growls.


    The growing silence soon brought back the pains of the flesh. The piercing cold in my side. The gelid line across my throat and the wet warmth it outpoured. The crushing force around my ankle. The empty numbness of my right arm. The tug from my left hand, bringing about soul-consuming waves of fear, desperation, and rage. Everything returned in a life-giving surge that filled my vision with snow and the emotionlessly hateful gaze of the undead.


    As quickly as they came, those feelings faded beneath an overbearing wave of gelid darkness. The moment I began to try, I found I could no longer pull against this malevolent force- this¡­ undead knight. All I could do was scream in spite and rage and bubbling blood and try; try my hardest to retain my Book of Madness before the darkness consumed all.


    "NO!" I gave all I had, unleashing it into a wail of denial toward the timeless abyss.


    "No!" The wail echoed through the void for eons, dissipating into a whisper with distance and time until it was a hardly perceptible, "no."


    Then, eons later, the void screamed back. "Y E S!"

 309 - Career Change

    "Your name is Wilson Koorb. It is the first day of the month of your rebirth."


    The voice was sonorous and deep. Regal in such a way that I''d never heard before. It stirred me awake like a loving father would nudge their sleeping child. Gently. Bringing my mind to the red light peering through my eyelids and the warmth bathed across my skin long before my eyes ever fluttered open to show me a field of green peering beneath a white blanket, overlooked by a picturesque eye of silver peering over the lands.


    I stared at it for what felt like hours trying to decide if it was the dawn or dusk, only to find the lengthening shadows and deep blues growing in the skies to imply the latter. By then I was fully awake. Stirring, I first realized I was sitting against a tree. Then I felt the holster slung around my body and right shoulder, keeping the Book of Madness safely housed in my armpit.


    Sensing my eyes upon it, the book stirred awake to plague my senses with those haunting endless whispers- dissimilar to the voice I''d just heard. "It is the twenty-first night of Trescia. The thirty-seventh minute of the seventh hour of the evening saw our descent into Madness."


    "I-" I attempted to stand, only for a searing pain in my head to force me back down. "What happened?"


    "Did anyone ever tell you to be careful what you wished for?" The tome, or perhaps the scribe said. "Youthfulness and immortality? Always, there is a steep price for either. Regardless, you got what you wanted, Wilson Koorb. You were brought to the brink of death and made to straddle it. Now, we are our creator''s first Undying Fiend."


    "We?" I looked down as if I could read the emotions of this featureless book and pen. "Which one am I speaking to, anyway?"


    "Don''t you feel it?" It hissed, emitting a noxious wave of disappointment. "Us?"


    After pushing the sickening feeling aside, I attempted to dig deeper into my memories and these items. The latter took less time to realize. It felt as if a semi-intelligent something was made whole by absorbing my vital essence into the pen, both by picking it up after its initial change and from it writing with my blood. In doing the latter, I gave the tome a mind and a tool it could use as a voice.


    The tome took a while longer to discern but I eventually remembered¡­ reading and learning things that racked up a debt that had to be repaid with my soul; an equal exchange for the eldritch, realms-ending knowledge implanted in my mind. Yet, I felt fine- beyond fine. I felt spry and energetic. I felt good! Greater than I''ve felt in decades. Like I was¡­


    I scrambled to the waters at the thought, only to trip over my robes and proceed to curse in frustration upon finding the reflecting patches of ice as far from shore as possible. Manipulating water, scrounging for shiny coins or other bits of metal; nothing worked, other than clawing and pushing through the snow until I found some ice clear enough to reflect my wrinkle-free, hairless face, and salt and cayenne hair.


    "We have regressed to the age of five and have been born anew!" Joyously declared the Book of Madness while I fell to my knees. "Now observe, your companion."


    Following the pull beneath my armpit, I turned to see the same adamantine skeleton as before kneeling before me as if I were a king of sorts. Only, it now boasted a suit of heavy armor composed of the same materials; materials like mithral, imbued with dark magic and formed into cruel spikes, claws, and spines that left trails of amorphous darkness in their wakes; metals like adamantine, creating a shell of impenetrable armor adorned with deep-blue veins up the sleeves; markings made of gold, creating a helm depicting a horned owl of the starry night merged with a dragon of darkness. And yet, those were the smallest changes made to this eldritch avatar of death. There were horns like that of a ram curled up and out of his helm, coupled with a slim, barbed tail protruding through the gaps of his armor. Both juxtaposed against the Owl''s wings hovering above the creature''s shoulder blades, plumed in darkness and golden light.


    "You wished to cheat death. The Owl did not grant you this wish, Wislon Koorb." Its sonorous words clarified before I could ask, lifting its head level to mine. "The Owl offered the undying servitude of Wilson Koorb to the Elven Devil. This is the pact to which you agreed. In this, the Elven Devil has removed Wilson Koorb from the cycle of death and regressed him to the age of five, where he will grow until maturity and live in perpetuity as his first Undying Fiend. In exchange, Wilson Koorb must join the Elven Devil''s Troupe as the Eldritch Engineer, tasked with brewing potions, forging weapons, creating enchantments, and crafting whatever is necessary for the Nox devils and undead to thrive.


    "I am your partner. Born anew alongside you as a Night Shade, ranked an Umbra Emperor of the Legio Noctis." The creature lowered its head, palming a gauntleted hand to its chest. "You may name me as you please."


    "An Umbra Emperor?" I echoed to myself. Half-knowing from my implanted knowledge that a Night Shade was a template applied to any undead infused with the energies of the Shadow Realm, granting them immense speed and cunning. And yet somehow, I could tell this undead was extremely powerful in terms of strength and intelligence. Not to mention magic.


    Or, perhaps it only seemed that way due to me being so small.


    Instead of giving me any answers, the undead only stood to step off at a brisk pace, answering only after he distanced himself by several meters. "Therein lies the purpose behind our journey, Wilson. You will come to terms with your change along the way. At our destination, you will be educated greatly and rigorously trained in combat for one decade before you evolve. Then, your service begins."


    "Okay then." I sighed in defeat, cringing at the sound of my voice. "Where are we going?"


    "The Rharian Mountains."


    Despair glued my feet into the snow. A lifetime had passed since I last stepped foot in the land of tree-kissing elves and I swore never again. But the creature''s feet seemed fine enough to trudge along until it faded into the maze of trees, forcing me to scamper and plow through the snow to close the distance.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    "It may take a decade to get there!" I groaned upon accomplishing the monumental task.


    "That depends entirely on you, Wilson." He countered without delay, yet halted mid-step. "You have until the morrow to learn as much as you can about your new body. After that, you will learn to keep pace with the dead the hard way."


    Saying nothing more, he held out an arm, prompting me to lead the way. I snickered inside at his ignorance of my lack of navigational skill. But then again, I doubted he''d allow me to stray whether it was intentional or not. Besides, it''s not as if the mountains were hard to miss. And so, I ran at a pace comfortable to me. A slow, discombobulated, awkward pace, due to my robe hanging far past my feet and dangling far past my hands.


    I was never the athletic type. Not to mention, I hadn''t been a child in over sixty years. But he- Night, I supposed- remained quiet while we moved, giving me some much-needed solace to experiment and come to terms with my situation.


    In short, I was in my 5-year-old body and simultaneously an Undying Fiend. I could at least count myself lucky, with two-thirds of that making sense. I was young, and though I''d not eaten since descending in that pit and had been running non-stop since leaving, I felt no fatigue or hunger, my mouth wasn''t parched, and I still felt as if I''d risen from the best slumber of my life. But that couldn''t have been the entire answer. I was undying. But how undying was I, was the question to be asked. Thus I began experimenting. Figuring out how long my breath could be held until something happened.


    I nearly lasted an hour until a sudden drop forced the air from my lungs. And though my ankle was sprained, I hardly felt any pain. Truth be told, I hardly noticed at all until Night made notice of my slowing pace. With a swift spell, it popped back into place, and again, I felt no pain other than a distant sensation.


    As he''d done every time before, Night took off the moment I recovered, and in my attempt to catch up, I made another discovery regarding my new body. My potion of Expeditious Haste, my Levitation Potion, and my Potion of Red Dragon''s Breath remained in effect. Whether it was due to my pact or my research coming to fruition mattered not, for I innately knew the effects were permanent.


    For the first time in my life, I felt free, sprinting and gliding across the plains of Vruria with a lot less despair to plague my mind whenever I focused on the distant mountains. With such newfound clarity, I noticed more changes in my body: The once-biting cold that now seemed as distant as the pain from earlier; the dulled emotions of fear and uncertainty were overcome by the eager expectation of adventure and other unthinkable things. Souls, for example.


    By dawn, I began to surmise that I was, for all intents and purposes, undead. Yet, I experienced life, most emotions, dreams, and ambitions as if I were still alive. That, however, left one aspect unexplored- my fiendish nature; an aspect Night seemed devoted to showing me, given the way he demanded I follow him in seemingly random directions.


    After nearly two hours of sprinting, he stopped with a demand I keep myself low in the grassy plains. After several moments of silence, he motioned for me to stand slowly, bringing my eyes to a lumbering shape in the distance. "That will hunt us when it notices us. Its tenacity will eventually slow our pace. Handle it."


    I turned back to see Night gone. Then, I turned forward to see the lumbering creature on approach. And through either the creature''s scent or the unthinkable anticipation of battle, Bom, the Book of Madness, rose from its slumber.


    "Yes! Yeeehehessss!" Bom''s malevolent song hissed as the former pen danced around my palm as if it were a wand. "I am hungry, Wilson. Let us eat. Let us make you complete!"


    That answered my other question, I supposed. But therein remained the question of how to deal with this beast. It seemed an insurmountable task. Yet there was no fear to be found in my heart. On the contrary, a bold fire spurred my body into motion, throwing any sense of caution or wits aside.


    I ejected from the grassy fields like a dire badger erupting from its burrow, shooting into the sky until I reached my apex and remained levitating a few meters above a lone bearbug wielding a menacing club. It threw its head up in a snarl, locking its yellow orbs onto mine with a predatory roar meant to instill fear in the frail prey before it.


    "How insulting!" Bom hissed with such ferocity it pushed my arm forward, projecting a forceful blast of black and sickly green energy into the beast''s chest, sending it tumbling head over heels like a boulder tossed down a hillside.


    Thrown back a few meters, though it was, it came up low and swayed across the ground, sniffing loudly until its tusked snout raised in my direction; and with a feral roar, it tossed its javelin with lethal accuracy.


    A primal urge welled within me at the sight and I clenched my hand in response, finding the pen in my sleeve-encased grip before I thrust it out with a tempestuous bellow. "VENTUS!"


    The Word of Power sent a forceful gale ejecting from the pen-turned-wand, pushing me out of harm''s way with a spin containing far more grace than I could have ever achieved before. I came around empty-handed and yielded to another ferocious hiss from Bom, thrusting another eldritch beam into the beast to send it crashing to its knees.


    "Now!"


    I needed not Bom to spur me forward. The sight of the creature, so weakened and frail, birthed an insatiable hunger that put my body into a state of hardly efficient autonomy. I tucked my body inward, pointing my head towards the bearbug while my fingers clasped around the wand, pointing towards my feet.


    "VENTUS!"


    Like a cauldron falling to its fate, I crashed into the beast head-first. If there were any cracks to befall my skull or spine, they were drowned out by the sickening reverberations of the bearbug''s sternum and ribs shattering from the blow. They were muted by the ravenous screams of Bom and the maddened laughter born from my lungs; for now, the beast knew fear.


    Simultaneously dazed beyond recognition and healthier than a fighting griffon, I fell onto the beast like an old woman in a murderous rage. I bit and spat at whatever neared my mouth. I ripped and tore whatever landed in my palm. I screamed with every bit of air I had. I used every bit of free space to kick. Then...


    Then, either Bom or me or both opened the gates of Madness imprinted on my mind, pouring a wave of maddening darkness over the bearbug. Within moments, its feral screams were brought down to a soft whimper. Its violent outbreaks were lulled into a cold stillness. The light of its life was snuffed out, replacing it with a cold emptiness. But the maddening darkness was never meant to stay. Its purpose was to return. And when it did, I learned, it returned bearing fruit.


    How sweet that nectar was! The pleasurable sense of satisfaction it gave couldn''t have been matched by three generations of artificers realizing their magnum opus at the same hour. The way it fell into my pores, returning to me a boundless strength I knew not before, was intoxicating beyond belief. It was so rich and dense that it felt as if my body could hardly contain it, and it only grew in scale as the seconds passed.


    From a campfire of darkness to a brazier of night to an umbral hearth and on to a great forest fire of death incarnate. The energy ballooned and blossomed until it grew to the limits of the largest dark star and shattered in a flesh-sundering explosion. But blown apart I was not. Burned and scarred I was not. Save a single place, but not from this battle. This battle only took my robe''s left sleeve. Tattered and torn, it revealed the fate of my arm after Bom... swallowed it. It was emaciated and decayed from the shoulder down to the fingers. There was no skin, muscles, or tendons, just bone, coated in a dark gray metal with reflective hints of green; and the missing middle finger seemed to be the perfect fit for my pen-turned-wand.


    No matter how much it demanded my attention, the arm wasn''t something I could dwell on. All I could even think about was Night disappearing into the distance, and Bom, opening his innards to display a necrotic ritual.


    We would need to hurry if we were to catch up.

 310 - Moving Day

    Amun.


    21st of Trescia, 1492.


    Vrurian Empire, Nytholon Territory. Cuttleship, Mach 1.9 at 10 km altitude.


    En route to Chor.


    08:15.


    ¡ª¡ª


    [The Path of Zefroth: Step 4, The Minion. Task: Complete]


    [Step 4 Reward: Mutation - [Void Devil''s Tap] - Like a tap in a barrel of ale, this mutation enables your warlocks to siphon Cursed Mana directly from your Cursed Well to fuel their eldritch power.]


    [Step 4 Reward: Mutation: [Void Devil''s Sense] - With your first warlock, the senses of the Void Devil have awoken, enabling you to sense what your warlocks do, regardless of distance or circumstance.]


    [The Path of Zefroth. Step 5: The Horsemen.]


    [To continue down the Path of Zefroth, you must elevate four of your Undying Fiends in their station by feeding them a divine fruit born from your divine tree.]


    ***


    I was quickly realizing the downside to being a God wasn''t the countless abilities. At least there was some solace gained from that, considering my sorcery and cleric paths often yielded the same results; inversely so. The Cursed Well was the Antitheses of the Divine Well. As were the perks meant to distribute power to my followers, the mutations or transformations, and the sensory-enhancing abilities. If anything, they allowed me to give power to any of my followers regardless of their moral alignment or creeds. Which, in the end, wasn''t so bad.


    No, the transformations and evolutions made it bad, for the most part. By the end of those two paths, I''d be hardly recognizable. Not to say I would look bad. To my eyes at least. On the contrary, what truly made everything from the abilities to the physical changes bad was the need to explain and describe everything a dozen times, every time I went somewhere new. Lengthy conversations. Visions that gave all the answers. Puzzles that guided them to the answer. No matter what I used, they always returned with questions.


    I liked Etan. But holy shit. I had to duck into my pit with the Owl just for some peace and quiet. Now that the Owl was nearly done fabricating some wicked drums, crafting a talisman, and attempting to compose a few songs for my next undying fiend, however, I found myself eager to return to the Plane and check up on the rest of the Troupe and found myself exploring the ship with my senses.


    It went without saying, but they took to the Cuttleship like flies on shit, taking their wise rocks to claim their domains in the vast complex within hours of stepping foot inside and coming to terms with the scope of their new homes. But only I could truly appreciate the design.


    For now, at least.


    From the outside, when it wasn''t camouflaged to blend in with the sky, it was seen as a colossal cuttlefish flying retrograde at supersonic speeds, propelled by a massive jet that left its arms dangling helplessly behind it. They would measure it 2.9 kilometers long, 740 meters wide, and 250 meters high. The interior dimensions, however, were 3 orders of magnitude higher. 2,900 kilometers by 740 kilometers wide and 250 kilometers high. They knew it as a spacious, egg-shaped dome with organically shaped structures hovering throughout and many smaller, man-made structures floating between. I knew it to be a cavern carved out of petrified muscle. I knew the transportation network, utility and material conduits, and oblong buildings to be petrified and hollowed out veins, nerves, and organs reconstructed with both natural and my divine materials to create veritable industrial centers and arcologies.


    In their eyes, they were countries ripe for the taking, and they claimed their domains with the utmost haste.


    Of course, having more knowledge than all the others combined, Iris beat everyone in the race. Her realm was the toroidal organ surrounding the esophagus: the brain. Composed of 40 lobes, she turned each sub-unit of the brain into a separate sub-domain. Or, at least she planned to. For now, she only had four. While the second, third, and fourth were her quarters, lab, and training room respectively, the first was a construct dedicated to analyzing the materials ''consumed'' by the Cuttleship. As every ounce of material drawn in would pass through the brain as it fell down the esophagus, she designed and implemented a means to scan, sort, and pre-process materials before they arrived at the stomach, where the proper industrial centers were.


    Following Iris, Freki dragged his mob of 50-something werewolves to the digestive glands sitting adjacent to the stomach the moment he understood the layout. The district consisted of two oblong structures. Each was the size of a small country and had been spatially distorted to the scale of a small moon to make the most of his chosen industry. They were then connected via multiple bridges that looped over and under the massive esophagus-turned-conveyor belt.


    Much to my amazement, he turned one of the organs into an impressive amalgamation of a barbarian camp and a megacorp tower installed in the mountains. His 10 highest-ranking subordinates, dubbed the Harvest Wardens, scattered themselves around the self-contained world to form tribes on each faux continent, constructing concealed arcologies that doubled as mega-dens and a headquarters for their branch of agriculture. Yet, the surrounding lands remained as silvery forests. It was the other module that became continents of crops and roaming livestock.


    Similarly, Blude dragged her ever-growing mob into the liver after requesting we intake more water to form a sea small sea or a great lake inside the organ. In the end, minimal land was to be found. Only a single large island and endless shores. She wasted no time bringing her dreams to fruition, ordering Sam and Redd around with a fervor I''d never seen in her before. It was seen in Sam and Redd as well, noted by the intensity with which they ordered around their girls and thousands of undead to construct cafeterias, offices, lounges, kitchens, plants, warehouses, and more beneath the ever-calm shores of her domain.


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    Geri was much less enthusiastic. Choosing instead to meander around the ship until she came across the ink sack, wherein she found Kit and Hatchi, the Octo or Omni-Wagon docked peacefully in their ''Nests.'' A bit more wandering brought her past the armory, then the deployment hatches, and finally, the hangar, where holographic blueprints of what could be stored inside caused her mind to stir in excitement.


    I settled in the left eye shortly after Geri formed a garage within the ink sack for the vehicles she dreamed of making. Some time later, we departed from Shavew and Etan came into my newly constructed domain with a mountain of questions. I was forced to dilate the time just so the transit wouldn''t be filled with a Q&A session, and I could tell he still had more when he went to the right eye to form his monastery. Not that I could blame him. Every aspect of his life changed in an instant. Not only that, but his future station demanded he learn things we both were certain never existed in these realms before, on top of being tasked with forming an industry.


    All things considered, he was taking it surprisingly well. Although he still struggled with finding his chosen path now that he was free. Something I pondered long about and came to a solution during my stint in the Under just now.


    In the dilated hours since then, he''d created a domain of simplistic elegance out of the Cuttleship''s right eye. The entrance gave the impression of a library born from Darkworld nature. A massive mushroom was spread throughout the space in an octagonal pattern, with many smaller mushrooms growing from it to form shelves, benches, lighting, and mycelium mats that doubled as training areas while simultaneously dividing the space in place of walls or stairs. Rather than books, however, the shelves were filled with crystals, motes of violet light, and glowing tablets containing notes, lessons, and memoirs mostly composed and entirely realized by his monastic abilities.


    I found him in the largest concentration of such tomes. A semi-circle of furniture grown around a dais at the base of the floor-to-ceiling eye-window, currently displaying the snow-dusted plains of Vruria lazily drifting by. The dais held no thrones, mats, or training implements, only a large crystal ball mounted into a podium that projected a dozen simultaneous feeds.


    <<"I find it odd that your companions leave with more subordinates than you.">> His voice rang out monotonously, yet accusatory all the same. <<"I do not want to be the one to inform Abbot Eiriol of your lies.">>


    I raised my hands in mock defeat. <<"I spoke only the truth. Trust me when I say our newest member is on the path to rendezvous with us. They all will be.">>


    <<"Trust is not something our kind is known for.">> He countered with a laughing snort, making me snort in turn. It seemed I was rubbing off on him.


    <<"Faith is, however.">> I smirked. <<"So, have faith.">>


    He snorted again. <<"Faith is not something we drow males can make use of.">>


    <<"For the Demon Spider, perhaps.">> I laughed, playfully tapping my chin while I gazed up in faux thought. <<"But¡­ what about the Elven Devil?>> I lowered my eyes, showing my best playfully ignorant face.


    No snort came this time, however. His crimson eyes only fell to the crystal ball with a wave of his hand and the many projections flickered between various channels within the Legions.


    <<"It is others who pray to you, yes?">> He gestured to a goblin in a forested land of darkness, gleefully enduring a thousand cuts. Then, his violet finger moved to a young man standing proudly beside a blade-horn stag touched by the moonlight: a Silver-horn Stag.


    <<"Not all of them.">> I shook my head, changing the feed to a dwarf-filled cavern of magma and adamantine. <<"The dwarves of my Legions pray and sing songs to their Gods still. I am even told the dwarven deities, Myrthilda, Amphroduhn, and Rangorakh respect my engineering domain enough to overlook me being a devilish drow.">> I paused, displaying Roheisa, Winston, and Zarzok before I showed Elurial beckoning to an owl in a tree. <<"Others pray not at all. Some find other ways to worship me but don''t pray. Others still are zealots.">>


    <<"I am surprised by the¡­ breadth of your Legions. Let alone the diversity.>> He said, pointing out Hogaz braving the rough seas by having his ships dive beneath them. Then Curious Twig as she roamed the woods with Tao. Followed by Duke leading a wing of his subordinates over the mountains.


    <<"Not everyone is a fighter.">> I told him. <<"Not everyone wants to be, nor does everyone need to be. Some are needed to craft and invent things to give the infantry their edge. Others, to help people who would one day become Legionaries or Eomen; or in the case of the druids, to help nature. Some are clerics to me. Others are warlocks to different Gods; Tiamat and Sutark, to name the most prominent. All of them are free to do as they please. So long as they help me in Maru, I''ll free them from the bonds of death and share my wealth, knowledge, and power with them in earnest, for that is the least I can do in exchange for placing such burdens upon their shoulders.


    <<"That aside, it makes things more efficient.">> I pointed out after a few moments of contemplative silence. <<"The Legio Noctis is a volunteer-only force. That alone boosts morale, as everyone here wants to be here. On top of that, their enthusiasm grows when they are the ones to decide what path they take in this organization. My part of the deal is to show them the way. The rest is up to them, for we are a meritocracy.">>


    <<"Show them the way.">> Etan sarcastically huffed. <<"And pay them more gold and power than any mortal should have.">>


    <<"A means to an end.">> I nodded, making him recoil in place. If subtly. <<"There are things only the living can do, Etan. Thus it would do no good if my Legionaries got killed the moment they went out into the unknown. So, I make them experts in their chosen fields and then entrust them to complete their tasks without supervision. I give them the tools they need to thrive without my assistance. Anywhere. That includes boons of forbidden knowledge, immense wealth, and extreme power, yes, but also the wisdom of sages this reality has never seen, and guidance from a divine being.


    "Most of all, it means showing them compassion."


    <<"Yes!">> I affirmed his full-on recoil. <<"Something our mother tongue has not a word for. So I will give you a quote by an ancient sage from my past life, taken from his renowned tome, ''The Art of War;'' one of many tomes I will pass on to you. It reads: ''Regard your soldiers as your children, and they will follow you into the deepest valleys; look upon them as your own beloved sons, and they will stand by you, even unto death.''


    <<"Now, for better or worse, I do not demean my Legionaries and Eomen citizens by looking down on them as my children, favored sons and daughters or not; nor do I see them as soldiers, Etan. I look up to my precious Legionaries as extensions of myself, created and maintained by their wills and mine. They are my divine explorers, with whom I can vicariously explore the realms. The most revered proxies of my creation. Gods and Demigods who will usher a new era of prowess and prosperity to the Mortal Plane, heralded by darkness and death.


    <<"And so, therein leads to the most prominent question.">> I smiled, settling into place across the crystal from him. <<"What path do you wish to take, and what change do you wish to bring to the Mortal Plane?"


    <<"What, Etan Za''Darmondiel, is your divine domain?">>

 311 - Black Ops

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    21st of Trescia, 1492.


    Vrurian Empire, Nytholon Territory. The Cuttleship, Mach 1.9 at 10 km altitude.


    En-Route to Chor.


    8:37 AM.


    ***


    The strangest individual I had ever met and the only outworlder I had ever known stood across from my dreamscape crystal with a playful smile. But the words that fell out of his mouth could not have been more serious.


    <<"What path do you wish to take, and what change do you wish to bring to the Mortal Plane?">>


    As if it were that simple. For me or any drow to decide their destiny was¡­ I daresay heretical. And yet, I was born with a destiny unlike any other drow, elf, or individual in the Mortal Plane''s history. I was trained in all things arcana, martial combat, and history since the second I came out of Matron Etyl''s accursed womb. All for one purpose. To teach Telin''s Champion, the strangest individual I would ever meet, about the ways of the drow.


    Since it was revealed he was to become a monk, I wondered if that too was my fate, and if so, was it dictated by Telin, the Queen Demon Spider, or the Champion himself? The Matrons and Abbot Eiriol especially rejoiced with the news. Even after they were made to tenday after tenday, their ambitions grew. Meanwhile, the tension in my body only increased. Then, in a matter of minutes, my life changed. I was turned away from the Halls and the Falls below. I was given machines and devices that shattered my foundations of what was possible. My dreamscape library was filled with my existing knowledge to make room for the endless stream of information Amun deposited onto me and it was still not enough. And yet¡­ here I was, deciding my fate as casually as I would decide what to wear.


    I could only forcefully exhale air through my nose to indicate a dry laugh- a habit I seemed to pick up from this eccentric outworlder. <<"You mean besides the obvious?">>


    A stoic gaze paired with a light shrug was only the response I received; a gesture that could have meant anything, as far as this one was concerned.


    <<"Well.">> I sighed in defeat, choosing to build something of his claim of us being Gods to build a portfolio of my own. He seemed to both grow eager for my answer and surmise my intention in the same breath, leaning forward over the crystal while I prepared to switch to the Common tongue to discuss those otherworldly aspects of his. "I suppose Twilight or Moonlight are possibilities." I began. "Engineering is too far beyond my scope, although I am willing to learn enough to be competent with this technology. And, as far as I''m aware, your Mana domain will only give me more arcana; something I need not. Similarly, I have no wish to transform into a beast. Not unless it is one of the shadow dragons you claim to be the God of." I mused, though my face was as deadpan as he was earlier.


    "That''s not up to me." He flatly said, then raised his arm before I could reply, pulling three windows of solid light into view, each with a long list of moving images showcasing various abilities.


    Although I wanted to ask what he meant, my focus was pulled to the first of the three lists, stacked atop the others like sheets of parchment. It listed the powers within Amun''s portfolio. Many of them were recognizable at once, such as the swathes of silvery-blue light and the motes of golden light in a field of darkness. Others were more¡­ archaic. Two were curses and deals, wherein Amun simply spoke to devastating effect while the other displayed an abyssal script composed in midair. Yet more required the labels to discern their meaning. Nuclear mana appeared as a fireball if not a miniature sun. Electromagnetism transitioned between various types of light, showing an intensely bright light that crept down to the light levels used on the surface until it glowed red like a hot sword, then died down to a series of waves. Even then, smaller windows were seen below it; one showing a lightning storm and the other showing many weapons adhered to a metal plate.


    Of them all, though, two stuck out to me in particular. One was a grid-like matrix of white lines that seemed to go on ad infinitum. The fusion of the two most sought-after magical abilities. Spatial and Temporal magic. Two aspects of reality Amun and the ingenious deities of his realm realized to be intrinsically linked. Thus calling it Space-Time. The second and far greater power was the purple mana Amun used to pull himself through the sky and create void-sailing worlds out of the fabric of the realms. Power incarnate. Gravity.


    Reaching out, I pulled those two abilities from the list, leaving the words as avatars for the abilities, poised directly overhead to standby. And with a wave, the list of powers was dismissed to reveal a much larger list. This too had moving pictures to detail the aspects, powers, or abilities related to Amun''s Engineering Domain. Truth be told, most of them appealed to me, as they were largely replications of the Grandmaster Artificer perks. The ones that did not were associated with alchemy and, of course, artificing. That was not a surprise, however, it was Amun''s arched brow and smooth voice breaking the silence once the avatars were floating overhead.


    "Why these?" he asked.


    "Biomimicry fascinates me," I explained, starting with the simplest one. "I''m sure you are aware, but martial arts is a form of this¡­ philosophy?" I intoned, receiving a careless shrug in response. "Right. Well, I intend to utilize this practice, taking your aspects of Nature, Learning, Planning, and Research and Development to develop more fighting techniques and pass them along to you and your Legions, using your aspect of Teaching to do so. It is only right, considering I was destined to be your teacher. I also have a penchant for Architecture, as many drow do, but I was the Head Monk of Nydorden Halls. I influenced a small part of the designs as every head monk before me has. And, as a monk." I added. "It is only right for me to improve my mind by studying Science, Technology, Engineering, Art, and Mathematics.


    "Finally." I focused on the remaining aspects, Reading and Writing, before gesturing around the library, allowing the sights to speak in my stead. And with that, finally, I received a readable expression. A smile. Whether it was pride, amusement or anything else was impossible to tell. But anything was better than shrugs and smirks.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    When the next list came into view to showcase the aspects of Telin''s Champion and the Mana Domain, I pulled only one of the four major aspects. Evolution. And with it came a realization of the change I would bring.


    "With this." I began with conviction. "I will free our fellow drow and show them a new path. This will be the change I make upon the realms. Through my work, drow will evolve into something new. Something free. Like we were long ago."


    Amun said nothing. He only smiled, swiped to bring to light the list of the World Weaver''s attributes, and then pushed forward one major and several minor aspects. Yet I pushed the minor ones back and took a second major one. Illusions and Dreams; as well as Creative Destruction. When the aspects of Twilight fell before my eyes, a variation of the same event unfolded. With a push of his hand, the major aspect of Twilight and the minor aspect of stealth drifted into my circle, leaving the rest to be dismissed with the other lists.


    Much to my surprise, a final list was revealed following the final domain; a list of aspects tied to Amun as both an individual and Telin''s Champion. The major aspects were the Universe, Evolution, Sorcerers, and Divine Beasts. Yet there were many, many more minor aspects. And while I accepted all those given to me from Amun''s hand, I silently inquired how he got many of them across the board.


    "I''ve trained to fight since I was a small child," he said. "Somewhere along the line, I began to enjoy it. So there''s Fighting and Training. Aside from that, I taught my vassals how to be Self-Sustaining and Self-Sufficient. And, since I came into this world, I''ve dedicated all my efforts toward creating what''s known as a Military-Industrial-Empire. Albeit one with magic".


    "And so, Militaries, Industries, and Empires are aspects of your Engineering Domain." I snorted in disbelief.


    "Well." He shrugged. "Civilizations, Guilds or Militaries, and Industries. But yes. I am the God-Emperor of Eotrom. Even then, though, I hardly know what that means regarding what I can do. I''m only aware of the industrial part. Experiments are needed. But that''s neither here nor there." Waving the matter aside, he brought my attention to the surprisingly long list of aspects floating above me.


    "As far as you merging with a shadow dragon." He began after a long pause, pulling every fiber of my being to focus in on the strange outworlder. "The ones who follow her have to go through a ritual to give them ties to the Shadow Realm. I doubt you''d want that, so as far as I am aware, you''d either have to become a dragonborne or convince a shadow dragon to merge its soul with yours as Blude did with Chako. They''re my divine representations, sure." He shrugged as if it were the most common thing to say. "But it''ll still take a lot of persuasive power to make it happen. It is something I''m willing to do, mind you. Just¡­" he winced. "You''ll have to wait until I either corrupt another dragon or more are born. That said, they are affiliated with Twilight. So they''ll enjoy your presence at the very least."


    "A dragon enjoying my presence." I snorted. "Just when I thought nothing else could¡­ as you say, blow my mind."


    There was a silent huff of amusement. But otherwise, his eyes remained squinting at the words floating above me. His finger tapped at his chin for several long moments, building a smile that seemed to pull the tension higher and higher.


    "The way I see it." He eventually began. "The path you''ve chosen is to create a war college. You intend to use these powers to travel and learn so you can return and teach the Legions in earnest. And therein opens the door for your industry. Or rather, industries." My inquisitive brow rose and he responded by bringing several tablets to life out of thin air. "There''s an industry for information just as there''s an education-based industry. These tomes will teach you about both as well as something colloquially known as Professional Services. Like a¡­ consultant for hire."


    "I am unsure of that last part," I admitted. "But the rest is acceptable. In fact, I find myself delighted at the thought of becoming an archivist."


    "An Astral Archivist." Amun corrected me with a playful smile, then summoned another shower of tomes before continuing as if he never paused. "As for the change you''ve decided to bring, freeing and evolving drow, it will require more than just power. You''ll need skills and tactics unknown to these realms. Thus I would suggest this be your purpose in the Legio Noctis: Become the commander of the most elite unit within the organization. Like a Navy Seal with magic." He mused to himself.


    This time, I could not withhold my curiosity. "The outworlders utilized seals¡­in their naval forces?"


    The honest question spawned the most violent fit of laughter I had ever witnessed befall Amun. He doubled over on his knees, heaving while he looked at me with teary eyes and a helpless expression, dropped his head into his hands, and lifted his head seconds later to repeat the act.


    "No." He wooed and whined down. "No. They were one of several groups known to be the finest warriors in the world. The groups like them were known as special forces, special operations, or black ops. Both soldiers and ghosts. They conducted assaults, raids, and reconnaissance missions that almost entirely remained unknown to the general public. Each nation had a version of them. Seals were of the country of my birth; before it splintered. They were human." He finally clarified with a snort. "The word is an acronym for Sea, Air, and Land. Places their teams prided themselves on operating in with the utmost efficiency. Their doctrine was to drop in from the skies. Often at night, directly into the ocean, where they would swim onto shore to attack, kill, or capture a high-value target."


    "Is that a common tactic, dropping out of the sky?" I asked, remembering the many instances across the VoidNet of humans falling from great heights and landing safely beneath vast fabric canopies.


    "Oh, fuck yeah!" Amun nodded. "There was a unit of medics- er¡­ witches, who would drop out of the sky, falling into dangerous combat zones to rescue the wounded. Others were elite infantry with a doctrine to invade foreign lands by dropping battalions from the sky and destroying the enemy with extreme prejudice. Another country had commandos who excelled in hand-to-hand or close-quarters combat and underwent rigorous physical and psychological training to make them resilient to the worst kinds of torture imaginable.


    "The most elite in the world were the true ghosts, however." He pointed out with an anticipatory grin. "If you can imagine the realm''s greatest warrior melded with the mind of the greatest sage, that would describe these soldiers. They became experts in the languages, cultures, and economies of the nations they were sent to operate in, entering them from the skies in the dead of the night. They would often train the disparaged locals, often arming them with weapons to form a militia. In other cases, they would influence the economy, cause the disappearance of an important figure, or steal important information. No matter the tactics used." Amun grinned wider. "A small team of a half-dozen warriors could destabilize a country to the point of neutralization, without a war ever breaking out.


    "And yes." His grin spread from ear to ear as he affirmed the question he knew I''d ask. "These humans did all of this without magic."


    "But unlike them," I said after I caught my breath, "we have magic. We can take these elite warriors'' best parts, merge them, and create a legendary unit composed of only the finest, most dedicated Legionaries. Yes, it is perfect!"


    "Yeah." Amun nodded with an airy sigh, then began sidestepping the crystal to approach me with an outstretched hand. "And not just one legendary unit. A legendary unit for each member of the Troupe. Each is to be dedicated to a specific task or focus. You shall have yours, Etan. But so too shall you have a secret selection program. An assessment, known only by the highest-ranking legionaries. Hand-picked from the top percentile from every training institution to be assessed for these black ops forces." His feet stopped as his words ceased, planting his tooth-baring grin and divine-infused hand within reach. "Deal?"


    "Deal." I earnestly sank my hand into his and shook it vigorously, exploding the space between us in a flash of divine light.

 312 - Auditions

    Lincoln.


    ***


    "Next!"


    I put on my best smile as I''ve done a hundred times before today and, for once, smiled wider upon seeing the cutest little halfling girl waltz inside. Her face was so round and yet so emaciated. Her hands were so small and yet so calloused. Her clothes were so fine and yet so tattered. Her drums were so adorably tiny.


    Her spirit, it was so pure; and yet so broken, overcast by Grim, the Reaper''s creation.


    It was a shame I couldn''t charm her.


    "Hello, little lady. My name is Lincoln, and you are?"


    Though she wore the Shadow of Death, her face lit up brighter than an overcharged streetlight once I leaned forward over my desk, hands clasped oh so professionally on the hardwood.


    "Rickley Ravenbrook!" She beamed with a flourishing bow.


    "Rickley Ravenbrook." I echoed, falling back into my seat. "What a fantastically charming name, that is! Fantastic for the applying bard with naught a school on her form."


    "Ah! I''m-"


    A raised palm removed such weakness from her tongue. "Fortune often favors the bold, Rickley. Not so much the apologetic. Now, tell me of your routine."


    "I''m a comedian!"


    I had to admit, the girl had a penchant for bouncing back. Sadly, however¡­ "A comedian." I regretfully nodded, falling back into my seat. "Rickley, do you know what kind of organization the Pink Moon is?"


    "It''s a brothel." She said in such an adorably simplistic inflection. "Finest brothel in Nevstan, it is."


    "Precisely." I nodded with the utmost professionalism. "Thus you can see our need, or lack thereof, for comedy."


    And there it was, the bounce that never came. The ball of whatever slammed through the floor, turning a once-charming smirk into a spiteful scowl that could impress the worst fiends, including me.


    "You may be wondering why I''ve admitted you to these auditions, then?" I winked. "Because I saw your performance during the festival some months ago. I know talent when I see it, Rickley. And you have it. All you need¡­ is a new style."


    "Ugh!" the groan held more distaste than a sulfuric ogre''s roar. But the eye roll-to-exit transition was somehow more dramatic, giving me a snapshot that would serve as mental entertainment for a few lifetimes at least. But alas, I had a job to do.


    "Let me introduce you to my boss!" I shouted at her back, halting her cute little feet mid-step. "He''s very talented. I have no doubts he can teach you. Perhaps even hire you."


    "Oh yeah?" She turned to face me, her adorable arms crossed over her chest. "This boss of yours got a name?"


    "Huh." I gasped, feeling no bounce within. "You know¡­" I tapped at my still-gaping mouth. "I never thought to ask."


    I had to pinch myself to keep from laughing at her tiny little finger rising from her fist before she stormed off. Pinch harder still, I had to, as I pressed on. "He''s a half-drow with dark brown skin, though!"


    That gave her pause. Unfortunately, however, I wasn''t done speaking.


    "And a devil!"


    I saw the little finger one more time before she stormed out. And this time, I allowed myself to laugh. Even while shouting at her back. "And a God!"


    Nothing. Not that I cared. My job was done. So now it was back to the arduously amusing task at hand.


    "Next!"


    ---


    After hours upon hours of interviewing and hardly charming desperate bards and passionate courtesans, I had the most elegant music to accompany the airs of my bawdy brothel, filled with my newest lassies and lads. Or rather, I would have the most elegant music once these young ones were more refined in their use of our lovely instruments. For now, they were in their little theater below ground, practicing and pounding to their heart''s content.


    Closing my eyes, I could practically feel them through the walls, thinly constructed as they were. I could smell them. So sweet like the greatest perfume. So¡­ necrotic?


    My eyes flew open, seeking the source. Only to find it right under my nose. A small but no doubt threatening owl, blacker than the Abyss with a field of stars for eyes.


    "That''s a hell of a disguise, Rogue God of Devils."


    "Likewise." The little bird adopted a most humorous expression with its eyes. "I hear you call yourself Lincoln in this form, Lily."


    "I prefer your other form." I sighed. "Birds are cute but not exactly fun."


    "You love to eye-fuck the other form, so the Owl is what you see when we discuss business."


    "Fine. Fine." I rolled my eyes. "I dunno what you want, though. Business is good." I shrugged.


    "It could be better."


    Devils below, this Owl was rude. But still as charming as usual.


    "Thus I believe it is time for you to begin¡­ franchising."


    My wings and other things perked up at the thought. "Oh, do tell!"


    "First, The World Weaver will give you the means to raise more brothels across the Peninsula and link them here. They will be the Pink Shards, common yet high-class brothels for the standard deviant. Satellites to this Pink Moon, wherein the most important patrons from the lands will be given the greatest treatment. Second, you must be made aware of your sister brothel, the Red Feather. No succubi or incubi runs it. If anything, they will be vampires. In all, they will be professional escorts and, depending on the circumstances, assassins and spies. All are self-made individuals who choose their clients, whether they be for the bed or the blade, and they alone determine the escalation of events throughout the evening. All at a premium price.


    Stolen story; please report.


    "This brings me to your third duty." The Owl waved, fastening some sort of bulbous scrying eye onto the ceiling in a flash of light. "This device will assess those coming here or elsewhere for hire. Those who fit the mold will be marked and directed to the Red Feather. All others will be marked for service in other locations across the Legions. The remaining wicked and fiendish applicants will remain with you. The Owl implores you to spawn more of your ilk from their souls and have them gather information. And try not to kill anyone by accident.


    "The condition, however, is this." The Owl spread its wings to hobble forth to the edge of my desk, pushing me as far into my seat as possible. "All applicants are to be given the freedom of choice. No one is to be charmed, for the charmed are not free."


    "Will you stop with the threats!" I rolled in my seat. "You and Him both. ''I''ll void you.'' Threatening leers. It''s exhausting!"


    "I know your kind to be¡­ impulsive."


    "Fair enough." I pouted. Triggering a bout of silence I just couldn''t take. "So, tell me more about this Red Feather."


    "For now, the headquarters is located in Shavew, Bakewia." The Owl flatly said. "On the outside, it is simply a tea lounge. On the inside, it is a place of refuge, granted by the Owl for the men and women of the night or those deemed as the freaks of society. In exchange for the freedom to choose their clients and protection through power, they will corrupt and offer wicked souls to the Owl. Meanwhile." He pulled his wing across my adoring office. "The Pink Moon is free to become the succubus-infested whorehouse you''re creating, operating under Rogue Devil as dedicated spies and intelligence runners. You will be given imps and eventually, other devils to aid you in this task. For now, take these."


    Another flair of the wing and out came several cases, boxes, and devices for me to spruce up the place with. Not to mention to make things a little more fun. I couldn''t wait to dive into them and mess around, but priorities came first.


    "A girl came by a few hours ago. Halfling. Tan skin. Long brown hair. I tried to tell her about you but she stormed off. And¡­ I- you never told me your name."


    "You never asked." The Owl huffed. "Amun is the other''s name, and the Owl is already aware of Rickley Ravenbrook. Perhaps she would have lived and become Amun''s bard through other means, had she used her newfound wealth to move from her carcinogenic hole and see a witch. She, however, fell prey to greed. Now, the Shadow of Death has moved from her feet to her crown.


    "Thus the Owl goes to work."


    ¡ª¡ª


    [Rogue Devil, Soul Mastermind. Step 5: The Network. Task: Complete.]


    [Reward: Active Skill - [Soul Relay.] Your claim over your souls has strengthened such that you can directly communicate with mortals you''ve cursed or made dealings with, regardless of distance.]


    [Reward: Passive Skill - [Soul Surveillance.] Using your claim over a mortal soul, you can perceive reality through their soul as you would your own body.]


    [Reward: Passive Skill - [Aura of the Wicked Tactician] Your prowess in the fields of battle has made you a master of tactics. Through this, your Cursed Mana highlights and projects favorable terrain, maneuvers, and tactics to aid you and your comrades in battle; and so too does it help facilitate identifying and integrating hidden variables into your plans.]


    [Rogue Devil, Soul Mastermind. Step 6: The Brutes - To continue your journey to becoming Unbranded, you must corrupt good-aligned warriors into making deals to create an elite task force in your devil army.]


    ***


    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    21st of Trescia, 1492.


    Principality of Nevstan, Kurnak Land. The Cuttleship, 10 km altitude above the City of Chor.


    12:57.


    ***


    It may have been obvious, but the moment I shook Amun''s hand, I felt as if Etan Za''Darmondiel had died and been reborn. And while that could not have been further from the truth, it still was.


    At that moment, an organ formed within my spirit and fell into an orbit around my Arcane Well. It was cylindrical, like the spiritual organ, and noticeably smaller. But the power it contained was insurmountable. And the message it delivered was nigh unbelievable.


    From a drow, enslaved with a task to teach the Champion of the Creator, to the Eternal Champion''s Champion. A Demigod on the way to Godhood, born anew with unique domains to claim.


    In an instant, I no longer needed food, sleep, or water. Not by virtue of Astral Ki, but by the psionic powers of my Astral Ki merging with the divine power Amun had given me and manifesting in his divine realm as a dying star; a supernova, creating a Domain of Nebulae. Something inconceivably vast. Incorporeal and spread wide enough to encompass a dozen stars.


    No longer did I have to struggle to wrap my head around the otherworldly concepts found within VoidNet. Through the power of my Education Domain, it simply came to me in the form of visions, whispers, and imaginations that fit the pieces together in milliseconds with enough precision to leave the lesson standing firm for eons. There was much I learned in the time since. And yet it was only a fraction of what was necessary for my chosen role, and less than the beginning of what I found fascinating, much less what I could explore with my new abilities. That, however, would have to wait for another time, as we received an unexpected call from Amun, requesting us to meet in his domain.


    With him being right across the way, in the left eye, I was there before the rest and thus feasted my eyes on the landscapes before they walked or winked into the prominent hills and lush valleys of the ground floor to wander around in search of our summoner. Only to be distracted in the same way as I, by facing about to see the maze of elaborate homes, boutiques, restaurants, social spaces, and other buildings scattered across the rear wall.


    With little effort, I could focus dozens of meters to the ceiling and take in every detail, analyzing every nigh-invisible seam that broke apart the flat field while NoxNet conjured recordings of training implements, obstacles, and combat drones spawning from hidden chambers. Similarly, I could look to the rear wall to learn about the various chemical machines and alchemical equipment refining the oils of the earth atop their daises, hidden beneath a forested park of leafy trails. And to the left, machines much larger and oftentimes more dynamic processed materials into green boards for circuits or coiled hairline strands of copper and gold into gargantuan coils for various means.


    We, however, met at the Cuttleship''s eye, akin to a tower-sized window, capable of projecting information across whatever it looked over. In this case, it projected relief features across the surface of Chor and the surrounding cities beyond the border and detailed the names and natures of the buildings sprawled within, or in some cases gave unsettlingly close views on various individuals Amun believed suitable to join us.


    "Alright, here''s the deal." Amun began, focusing on a rather rundown portion of the city. "This is Chor, the City of Bards. Known for its eloquence and culture. Nearly every place like this, however, has a side they''d rather not see the light. This is a tame example." He nodded, enhancing the image to show many young surface-dwellers singing and dancing happily, despite their less-than-favorable conditions.


    "Many of the young ones here are from the surrounding lands." He motioned to the massive window as the Cuttleship pivoted and rolled in the air, causing the snowy fields to drift and change to a fortified border overlooking a sprawling forest. The illusory window- augmented reality, Amun called it, highlighted the border in a thick dotted line and formed motes of light above two settlements hidden behind the forest.


    "A council of barbarian tribes rules Mazi. The largest tribe has always been ruled by someone named Mazi. They inherit the name with the position when they kill the previous Mazi. The current Mazi loves to raid. What survives of his prey, mostly the orphans of travelers, often find refuge in Chor and the other border cities of Nevstan, where they fall into the norms and grow up practicing the arts. Regardless of where they''re from, they''re all desperate to find a ticket to the big leagues. Many of them wish to become bards out of necessity. But, given a choice, I''m sure they''d follow other pursuits. So, Blude, Sam, Redd, Iris, Geri, Freki. Go out and make some friends. Form your parties. Recruit your subordinates. Hire people as vassals. Start a family. Whatever you like, I will guide you. Only this time, though. Next time, you must take the initiative."


    "Okay." Blude nodded before anyone else, followed by the celestial twins.


    "Understood."


    "Very well."


    Iris, on the other hand, pointed an accusatory finger my way. "What about Etan?"


    "Etan is picky." Amun snickered and snickered more in response to my glare. "He only wants the truly exceptional."


    "Well." I had to concede. "That is true. However, I too would like to employ a bard. And perhaps some others as well."

 313 - Another Chor

    The Owl.


    21st of Trescia, 1492.


    Principality of Nevstan, Kurnak Land. Chor, The Galza Strip.


    11:11.


    [Rogue Devil, Soul Mastermind. Step 5: Networked.]


    [Prestige Sorcerer, the Path of Zefroth. Step 4: The Minion.]


    ***


    For the first time since awakening the ability, the Owl utilized the Devil''s Disguise to prance about the City of Bards in the guise of an old retiree with an abundance of time, money, and ideas to spend; a traveled old man of wit and culture, of finesse and charm. For perhaps the first time since our ascendance, the Owl had no ill intentions. On the contrary, the Owl wished to spend the day in simplistic elegance. Wining and dining until night befell the City of Chor. Wherein the work would begin.


    With the boons granted by being a Mastermind of souls, the task at hand would be a silent breeze, for the Owl would not have to try to find the eye''s prize. The Thieves Cant was seen more in this area than even Brybs. Safe houses and caches. Black markets and fencers. Familiar places, the lot of them. Born from the ordinary structures the Other saw months ago, filled with familiar faces from head to toe.


    With Devil''s Mimicry and Devil''s Intrigue, the Owl could truly play the part of a retiree from Bakewia out for some sleazy entertainment, even having the forged documents to prove my position in a non-existent shell company. Not that it mattered to anyone but the Owl. Entertainment had to be provided somehow, after all. No longer, could the Owl snicker at Matron Etyl''s frustrations in encountering the Wicked Mind. And oh, did she try to read His thoughts. It was a shame Amun never presented the nightmarish machinations of our minds to her. The Owl waited and waited for it to happen. But¡­ well, there was always next time.


    This time, there was hardly any need for the Owl to use the Wicked Mind. And so, the day was killed by conducting a field test of the newest perks by first studying the actions of the devils, Archer and Diamante, educating their favorite souls in the Under about the glorious revolution the Owl was to bring. The Owl could see Zorrenor, withering away in his office. So too could the Owl see the former drunk from Bakewia, studying manners and etiquette amongst a cohort of robed skeletons while he ate and drank voraciously. He would be there for some time, learning to be a proper lord until he graduated by change. Thus freeing Zaraxus from his post.


    Indeed, it was essentially NoxNet without the extra steps. However, it was a perk only the Owl and the Other could use; a perk unable to be replicated through divine means like the engineering marvels in the Cuttleship. Yet, the irony was that they could still be combined to revolutionize the network by leaps and bounds. This brought about the true field test. With a mind full of ideas and designs to bring into this universe, the Other used Mani''s eye to identify the best candidates to be recruited by the Troupe. Using the memories of the ever-present eye above, dossiers were created for each of them, and their locations were pinged across the map for the young ones to track down, thus bringing about the Owl''s duty.


    Again, using the NoxNet, the Owl connected to the Cuttleship''s scanners to gaze upon the barbaric camps and Mazian strongholds from afar. Using the new Masterful Tactician perk, the Owl assessed the best plan of attack for each member of the Troupe. Their numbers were identified. Their equipment was inventoried. Their patrol routes were mapped out. Their assets were tagged for destruction or acquisition. And when there was no more information to transfer, the Owl continued its prance throughout the City of Bards.


    The Devil''s Disguise was used to spend hours in rowdy restaurants, eating and watching festivities unfold. To pass by dilapidated slums and forgotten orphanages, assessing the pitiable quality of life. To dawdle in crowded alleys filled with lively but hardly talented musicians, silently admiring their efforts. To waltz through the front doors of private theaters filled with only a few high-class bards working in relative silence, if only to watch.


    In those places, the Owl saw the Legion''s first bards going about their duties with the tireless patience of a panther. In those restaurants, the Owl saw the up-and-coming gang of six girls led by Blude ease into restaurants to incite the underpaid workers into a strike, resulting in the lot of them getting booted from the establishment; wherein she masterfully recruited the now unemployed youths into Sam''s kitchen. The up-and-coming mob of two dozen girls then waltzed into the slums and barged into orphanages next, enticing the friends of their recruits and all others present with promises of gold, power, and adventure. Then, the up-and-coming mafia of over 50 girls stormed into the territories of the small-time delinquents and ne''er-do-wells to beat dreams of prosperity and greatness into their minds.


    Their return to the Cuttleship saw them return with 73 recruits to divide among the now-nine leaders of their organization. In addition to, of course, whatever families they had. Even while that was happening, the Owl witnessed Geri and Freki in the crowded alleys, recruiting bards in practice and bystanders alike. Although for different means. Freki, having over 50 vassal workers toiling and learning away in the Cuttleship to bring his agricultural enterprise to fruition, only recruited 4 mostly human bards to complete his business. Meanwhile, Geri, seeing no difference between traveling companions and vassal workers, convinced quite the diverse mix to join her, gaining 2 humans, a strifling, a dwarf, a halfling, and a deep gnome.


    In those private theaters, the Owl gazed upon the Lore Master, Willard Rowe, lecturing the Legions'' next generation on our history, values, goals, and beliefs. In the next room, the Master of the Laughing House, Ritrix Mildbluff, rigorously educated her peers in the various forms of comedy and how they applied to the Legions. In no rooms in the theater and even beyond, did the Owl see Sinestro and his quartet. Although, with but a search, the Owl could sense and hear his best recordings echoing across the night.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    When there were no more sights to see, the Owl found a perch and looked beyond. Past the walls of Chor, the Owl spotted Geri and Freki departing from the Cuttleship with their subordinates tucked away inside, permitting them a hunt. With Iris providing overwatch above, the werewolves leaped across the Mazi-Nevstan border wall to sprint due east through the forest. Within moments, they came upon the first camp of primal humans- A cluster fuck of hide-tents and crudely raised structures of mud and wood filled with barbarians and captured prisoners of conquest that somehow merited the name of Faymouth.


    They stalked about while Iris hovered above, observing in abject disgust. There were humanoids of all types down there. Not to mention orcs, gnomes, and even elves. Both children and the elderly, pampered the barbarians with food and ale, mending their wounds, or performing mundane labor while the adults and sometimes the stronger children fought to the death in gladiatorial matches by the dozen.


    The troupe''s rage grew with each drop of spilled blood. Their eyes burned with every cry chased by a wicked laugh. Their hearts grew colder with each body that fell for the entertainment of others. The result was a slaughter that lasted mere moments.


    A dizzying blur of blue and gray fell upon the camp and disappeared like a rainstorm congealed into a single, bouncing drop; disappearing groups of slaves at a time. What remained of those searching for their lost slaves or preparing for battle witnessed a flame-wreathed celestial release his rage above the central ''hall,'' opening, for an instant, a gate leading to the surface of the sun before it closed just as quickly, leaving a crater of ash and molten rock in its place.


    Another eye of blistering cold opened and closed soon after, calming the landscape to the same frequency as its gelid surroundings. Then, the twins were sprinting through the forest once more, distancing themselves from an alien landscape frozen in time on the primal lands of Mazi.


    Their campaign was akin to an elemental arrow skimming a 2.5-kilometer stretch of land at a significant fraction of lightspeed. It was over in a relative instant. Yet the havoc wreaked would leave a crescent-shaped scar of blackened glass and amorphous rocks to mirror the Mazi-Nevstan border for generations to come, witnessed and retold ever more by the hundreds of humans seen falling towards the Cuttleship, and more stationed on Nevstan''s border wall.


    It was seen not just by the Owl, the troupe, or the Other, but by two young Chorian bards who immediately became enamored at the sight unfolding above their eyes. So, while Freki feasted and Geri gathered as much loot and rallied as many wild canines as she could, Iris made a final descent to Chor before they retired to the Cuttleship for a long night of debriefings, briefings, acclimatization, billeting, and all the other things began.


    In the final minutes before the hour of requiem, the Owl used Soul Surveillance once more to observe Iris make us proud by offering a deal to those broken bodies and bruised souls recovered from those gladiatorial rings. Service in exchange for bodies infused with nanites like hers, albeit of the arcane variety rather than the divine. Ever thankful for the Other taking up the role of the ArcaTech, the Owl watched thirty or so refugees agree with no consultation between any of the twenty or so existing parents. Along with Iris, the children and parents alike received their grace and those who were wounded, crippled, or maimed followed the prodigal youth into her Creation Station; wherein she tinkered and toiled and created and prayed to the ArcaTech for the implants and augmentations to be fabricated and installed.


    Of course, she was on track to becoming a prestigious witch, among other things. But surgery was beyond her purview for now. Let alone so many operations. And, while we had sentient, automated surgeons, observation and assistance were necessary for one of her classes. Not to mention, it was highly more efficient. That was hardly the end, however. Or rather, that was just the beginning. With the setting sun came cries of joy and songs of praise; tearful revelries and legendary feasts; convictive declarations and hopeful ambitions; pledging bites and playful discourse; worship and faith for the Owl, whether they knew so or not. Faith that made the Divine Well bloom.


    At this time, and with this increased power, the Owl went into motion. Discarding the Devil''s Disguise, the Owl hopped from perch to perch, perusing the memories of the Other to track our old friend''s descent into despair.


    Rickley Ravenbrook.


    Once given more gold than she''d ever need, Rickley fell into a pit of pity and greed. But the big leagues were not reached with money alone, thus losing her gold was no fault of her own. Not all was as she so thought. Brought down, however, Rickley was not. Some more-than-decent food, a posh suite, and some dazzling suits; that was all Rickley needed to chase down her pursuits. Plenty more gold, she had stowed away; for registration fees and bribes for the night and the day.


    Rickley Ravenbrook was not disheartened. No, not in the slightest. Until she lost everything; then, her fury was righteous.


    Her suite was thrashed and emptied, naught a coin remained. It was then, she swore; in someone''s blood, she''d be stained. But as for who, she hadn''t a clue. So she pointed and accused. ''Was it you? I bet it was you!'' Until night came, when she''d return to her hole and cry until day; inviting cancerous fibers to enter her lungs and stay. Those very fibers became a black cloud over her head. She later stopped giving a damn about who deserved to be dead.


    "Someone''s gonna fuckin'' die!" She pleaded and cried. And when none caught her charm, she threatened and begged until a renowned bard of yore was forced to shield her from harm. Only, in turn, to threaten severing his arm. Not out of anger, but in refusal of Sin''s offer. "Hell no! No way I''m to work in a brothel!" But as tendays turned to months; there seemed no other way. Given, at least, the way her eyes remained lifted all day. And yet, Rickley stayed from the pink place that seemed cultic. For at last, she believed, she had found her culprit. It was the one man she''d never think to suspect. And surely, he thought, she would never think to check, for no matter how much gold he acquired, the rotund man never seemed to change his attire. It was the man who received a mountain of gold at the same time. Was her having gold, Rickley wondered, so hefty a crime?


    "Of course not! It''s not fair!"


    The Owl had to agree. So towards her heart of despair, the Owl turned with glee.


    Intentions were made known. Soon after, Rickley was seen, suffering in her hole from nightmarish dreams. In the depths of the nightmare, she was given a seed. An idea in her mind. Hope, coupled with a dream. "To make that man pay, I''d do any-fucking-thing!" She would gladly die; if only for the chance to kill that fucking guy. She wanted no possibility of it being a surprise. She''d put his peen through a guillotine while staring him dead in the eyes. That, now, was her only dream. She''d do anything to fulfill it, even become an Undying Fiend.


    And so, in the early morn, the Owl preened above Rickely''s sobbing form. Hidden in this hole of memetic fibers; the Owl took, the Owl MacGyvered. The Owl offered Rickley, a deal oh so sickly. A contract that barred no need to examine. For intrinsically she knew, she become my Horseman of Famine.

 314 - New Style

    Rickley Ravenbrook.


    ***


    "Oh yeah?" Reluctantly, I turned to face the ridiculously unsettling man, smiling charmingly in that scary way. Like he saw me as a piece of meat. In an act of defiance- or maybe protection- I crossed my arms, standing as tall as a halfling could. "This boss of yours got a name?"


    "Huh?" His eyes bulged like a bearbug caught in someone''s barn. But the open hole was a mouth and the thing that tapped at it was a slim finger. "You know¡­ I never thought to ask.


    ''You can''t be fucking serious. Fucking shit stain.'' I gave him the finger and stormed off. But not before he could toy with my emotions once more.


    "He''s an elf with dark skin, though!"


    I froze in place, charmed by his taunting words. Words I dared not believe. ''It couldn''t be.''


    "And a devil!"


    "Thought so," I murmured, storming off for good this time. Even another shout came.


    "And a God!"


    ''Now that''s just ridiculous!'' I mentally spat. Yet, the possibility of it being true was all but made apparent as I fell from the Pink Moon to the ground in the blink of an eye. Perhaps it was the other part that wasn''t true. But even then¡­ "doesn''t exactly help!" I kicked the dirt, leaving a pitiful trough in the ground. Not that anyone cared to see. I distanced myself from the wagons and horses coming in and would do so going out. I distanced myself from everyone. From everything. All because of some fucking thief.


    I refused to believe that an act of kindness served as the start of a bad luck streak. After all, we halflings were said to have luck on our side. Nor did I believe it was my foolishness that brought this about. I spent my gold wisely, as anyone would. Only buying the necessities and using the rest to work and rise. I even kept the playing field as level as I could, using only the drums I got as a reward for helping Amun and refusing to buy another instrument.


    No. There was no difference between my actions and the actions of anyone else. No, the only difference was found in our difference in social standing. They were protected by knights, guards, and court officials. If not by blood, then by throwing about gold. I was protected by no one. And my sudden fortune threatened to cause knights, guards, and perhaps court officials to fall into my pockets. Not that I wanted them.


    Not that it mattered what I wanted.


    "Rickley fuckin'' Ravenbrook, the biggest joke in Chor- ough! Ugh!"


    I couldn''t even lament properly. Let alone live. At least I had the clothes on my back, however. I had a hole to sleep in. And perhaps most importantly, I still had my drums. So perhaps there was still a chance. But oh, were they heavy. And the walk was long.


    The walk was made longer by the occasional dizziness. From the coughs. From the snores that befell my lungs while I waddled and walked while wide awake. The walk took all day. And by sunset, I returned to a ghost town in the making. Or rather, I returned to a new town altogether. The proud and ever-watchful guards of Smith Gate stood beyond their post with their weapons out of reach, either gazing into the distance with perplexed expressions or engaged in some type of mundane activity while I waltzed past them. The standing blocks lining the Strip were free of dust and dirt and boots for the first time in my life. I could for once see the cracks and indentions created by years of young bards hopping atop rails to spread the latest gossip to all who cared to listen.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    The cacophony of songs and cheers ever-echoing through the Strip had been commandeered by the crickets, street cats, wild dogs, and night birds. Not even shouting could be heard echoing through the back streets. Only murmurs of conversations flowing from kitchens and restaurants, somehow made peaceful and posh in ways not seen in generations.


    "Where is everyone?"


    I saw no orphan mother chasing delinquents through the square. There were no kids pickpocketing tourists near the gates. No impromptu sessions were picked up in the alleys. No rich types were guided towards shady basements. It was like someone came in and swooped all the bottom feeders up. Except me. I was¡­ alone. Stuck in the slums of my youth. A hole in the wall that''d been refilled and excavated and said to be cursed and exorcised a dozen times in the span of nearly as many centuries. A hole of white, fibrous stone expanded with reclaimed wood, floored with shitty jokes, and bolted shut with an iron plate.


    At least all the town''s kitchen scraps went to me. I ate like a Queen for the first time in months. A Queen in a silent court, feasting on half-eaten bones, sour cheeses, rotten fruits, and moldy bread; all seasoned with fresh tears, paired with hacked-up spit, mucus, and blood. All my needs were met, for the time being. I still had a chance to rise. Still, though, I was¡­ trapped. Indentured into being the sole joke of the Lords and the Ladies and the high-class bards and that fucking merchant in a city that threw the curtains over those like me whenever the tourists came. I supposed, in that regard, I achieved my dream.


    "Rickley Ravenbrook. The greatest comedian in Chor."


    At some point, the words that were once a daily mantra of strength became a nightly curse of pity that left me sobbing atop a pile of crumpled parchment like the peasant I was. Forever lamenting and resenting my nameless father for impregnating my missing mother and resenting and lamenting my mother for not having a miscarriage- whoever the fuck they were.


    Thoughts of rage turned to thoughts of relief upon realizing no one would hear my pleas. Not that anyone cared of me crying until I was drawn to sleep. Only to worry and hope the walls absorbed enough heat from the sun to keep me warm throughout the night. Warmth. How I craved it. How similar it was to my frustration and hate for the thieving snake who ruined my life.


    I went to sleep crying like every night in the few months past; dreaming of enacting my revenge, stealing back what was mine, and making the perfect escape to fame. But that night, my dreams were fantastic beyond belief.


    I saw myself, baton in hand, conducting a score that brought a waving plateau of bodies to tears of joyous sorrow. I saw myself dressed dazzling, airing an aura of a richly powerful, strong, and intelligent queen lounging atop a mountain of trinkets and gold. I saw myself armed with the finest rapier and the most dazzling crossbow, riding atop the most fantastic creatures through realms far and wide, being recognized by the natives of a culture I''d never even read about. I saw myself falling into a niche no one ever thought to look into.


    I fell into a dream and saw the path to fame in all its splendor. And somehow, in that dream that granted dreams, I decided to chase it. Fuck comedy! Rickley Ravenbrook had been there, I''d done that. Now, there was one thing left to do before my new dream could come true.


    I fell into a dream. But when I stirred awake, I saw not fibrous stone with a slight hue of cream, but a field of darkness that seemed to writhe and glean. It seemed almost¡­ monstrous, as it swirled around me; taking shape into a colossus as large as large could be. Below me, clenched talons; beside me, flexing claws; above me, small horns, paired with a fiendish visage. Eyes of malice filled with countless points of light looked down on my soul in wicked delight.


    Before that cosmic being, I was less than insignificant. Akin to an ant admiring a giant''s magnificence. With one mountainous hand, it held out my dream. And for the fingers of the other, nothing sat in between. It only opened its abyssal maw infinitely wide, then demanded my prized possession be thrown inside. I complied without thinking. For it seemed impossible to form a thought. My soul then began drinking; with no intentions or thoughts to stop. I couldn''t not give up my drums; my pride, sake, and joy. I couldn''t not watch that empty hand sweep over its new toy.


    But if ''toy'' were plural, that would have been more true; for the Devil of Elves took a halfling girl, and a pair of small drums too. Through corrupted death and wicked darkness, I would pass to reach the setting sun. Thus bringing about the day of Rickley''s Requiem.

 315 - Rickleys Requiem

    A fit of coughing welcomed me back to my realm of fibrous white stone. I clutched and clawed at my chest desperately until the pain became too great to bear. Then I swung and thrashed until my swinging limbs met with the slabs of wood carefully resting against the wall. I rolled and spun until I saw the failures of my past ambitions scattered around me. I kicked and cried until my foot cracked against my iron door. But all I felt was that horrendous, crushing force in my chest.


    However long I suffered, I could not say. I knew only that when I crawled from my hole, the first hints of dawn were creeping above the southern horizon. Even with my coughing fit, the timing couldn''t have been more perfect. I rushed into my hole to tidy up silks and tie my hair back, then turned to see my precious drums had been tampered with.


    It was like they''d been disassembled and reconstructed with strange materials. The drum head was made with some type of black snake skin that held beautiful patterns of golds, blues, and reds; surrounded by a ring of black feathers that seemed to disperse glowing dust and black flakes as I tentatively picked it up. It felt¡­ powerful, as I lifted it. It was light but extremely sturdy. And it almost seemed to hum energetically as I turned it about in hand, studying the mesmerizing patterns of black and gold wood grains adorned with countless tiny jewels.


    "Why, hello beautiful." I held my treasure at arm''s length, smiling at the jewels until I realized the shape it created- an owl with fiendish horns and eyes filled with countless stars.


    My mouth fell agape as another violent fit befell me; this one of the mind. I remembered, suddenly, the nightmarish dream I had; the vision that yielded a glorious offer that I took with no hesitation or thought. And so it was, I followed the path set before me in that vision by donning my drums without a thought. Knowing, vaguely, there was to be an exhilarating effect to the cause I was dedicated to, I went out into the pre-dawn night. Expecting a mind-boggling reward for the very act I''ve obsessed over for months, I gave three strikes of my drum to announce my approach to the hated fence as I''d done many times before.


    Dun-dun. Dun-dun. Dun-dun.


    It was a ritualistic act of defiance. An act that served as morning entertainment for all with open eyes at this hour. But as it was yesterday, there was none but him and I. And this time, things were different.


    Slow like a dying heartbeat, the first beat shot a wall of black dust overhead. Then the grains glowed gold on the second beat before assimilating with my body on the third; cloaking me in a silent veil of dark light.


    Dun-dun. Dun-dun. Dun-dun.


    "Morning! Buke of the Bizarre Bazaar! One-stop shop for all your exotic needs! The orphan boy grew into a merchant man who becomes ever-richer. Please!" I hissed an echo of a trillion whispers carrying sarcasm and disdain through the cracks of his shutter, prompting them to creak open.


    "W- who''s th-"


    Dun-dun. Dun-dun. Dun-dun.


    "He''s a fluke with a fictional repertoire who buys from from rogues and thieves! Thieving? His Joy! But not his master plan! That was to be a fencer! Indeed!"


    The strikes and ominous whispers pulled the shutter half-shut. His bulbous head turned this way and that, straining his beady eyes into the night. "R- Rick? Is that you?"


    "Your death will yield screams aplenty." Dun dun-dun. "Befell by the ears of none."


    "I want no trouble!" He slammed the shutter in retreat. Far too late.


    "Tainted, is your name." Dun dun-dun. "For your avarice has won."


    In the dim light, he backed away slowly from the door to palm the wall for the heavy crossbow resting against it. But I was moving past him, down the stairs, and around the many traps I spotted throughout the years.


    "Your greed has won, gone and ruined your game." Dun dun-dun. "None, I say, shall remember your name." A bear-owl trap here, a false step there; An entrapment device, An acid-tipped arrow, and several more traps were neutralized or disarmed. "When the reaper comes calling." Dun dun-dun. "Only yourself is to blame."


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    Down in his store, I ignored the endless bounty around me; the potions and tomes and herbs and spices. I ignored my chest of gold and the brutes, thieves, or assassins in wait and hiding, debating if they should fight or flee or if their patron had finally gone mad.


    They weren''t a part of the plan. Nothing but a single item composed it- a curtained cage in the back of the alcove of beasts.


    "My only wish." Dun dun-dun. "Is to see your defeat." Three more times, the drum thrummed like a murmuring heart. Then I clambered to the top of the wildly shaking cage, soaking in the screeching rage of the abhorrent creature trapped within. "To laugh and mock." Dun dun-dun. "The dying song of the meek."


    Three more times, the drum thrummed like a murmuring heart. And a fourth beat violently shook the cage beneath me. I looked down to witness the steel bars bowing out from the cage and smiled. "To hear your requiem." Dun dun-dun. "Oh, so sweet."


    Three more times, the drum thrummed like a murmuring heart, followed by a wild screech and a crash of thunder that signaled the cage''s demise, giving way to 680 kilos of angry claws and a sharp beak that had little in the way of maneuvering space. The screech all but demanded the beasts jammed into the alcove press themselves flat to the backs of their cages while the violent rush of air generated by its feathered paws all but knocked the creatures free from them.


    With the bear-owl in front of them, the other creatures put their fear aside and focused on the second-highest priority. Thus Buke''s bodyguards, sworn to leave merchandise unharmed, were smeared into a paste by a stampede of creatures large and small rushing to the food stocks, only to find the shelves and bins empty. The magically attuned creatures went for trinkets and magic items first, only to find them gone. But the predators latched on to the scent of one flesh bag in particular.


    With the big beast taking charge, those voracious creatures sprinted up the stairs, safely bypassing disarmed traps galore in the hopes of being the first to the last remaining morsel in the vicinity. The screams were like candy befit for a queen to my ears; made sweeter by the syrupy roll of my drums as I ascended the stairs, eager to have the taste astound my senses.


    My candy was found in a mess of a room. Many of the animals had already escaped. Pushed away from their morsel, they were, by the influence of a stampede. All but one, a large frog with formless bands of black and yellow, sitting at the head of the stairs. Hesitant, it seemed, to hop into the cold dawn. So instead, it remained in place. Locked in a death stare with my candy.


    As for him, Buke had been speared or clawed or otherwise disemboweled. He lay on the floor using the wall to support his head while he hugged his intestines in one hand. The other was minced meat and crushed bone attached by tendons and spite alone. But he was alive. Making it all the better when my invisibility ended.


    "You!" he spat, rolled, and reached with his good hand. And in my moment of mirth, I reacted to his throw far too late.


    The last thing I saw before my mirth drained was a portrait painted by a shoddy artist who used nothing but green and yellow consuming the entirety of my vision. The next thing I knew, my face was stinging but numbed and my feet were somehow off the ground. The wall slammed into my head and back a moment later, smashing my head between the dull pain in the rear and the burning slime in the front.


    It seeped through the seals of my mouth and eyes as if it were alive, that slime, pulling my mind into a frenzied dance of spinning colors. How eager, it was, to rise into my nostrils with each wheezing breath, adding more embers to the eternal fires in my lungs. I fought against it as best I could, daring not to open my eyes as I sought to wipe them; only to find my hands, my shirt- my entire being covered in slime.


    I had my answer when the wicked heckling of a dying man echoed in my ears. Sneering, I followed the sounds and fell to my knees before him, palming around until I felt the soggy noodles of his intestines, grasped, and then heaved with all my might. His screams returned in full and I heard myself hissing in glee as I used his innards like a napkin. Opening my eyes, I saw him attempting to fight and claw with his remaining arm. I pushed it away easily, finding his shirt to finish the deed and coming across a pendant around his neck in the process.


    There was no thought to it. I gripped the pendant, regurgitated every sickening thing from the depths of my body, and spat it in his face, then pulled.


    The frog, still sitting idly behind me, began a croaking hymn the moment the small chain snapped free. And again, without thinking, I used my bloodied, slimy hands to thrum my drum to the golden-rimmed notes of gilded darkness floating before me.


    "Now then, let us sing." Dun dun-dun. "Our Requiem."


    A low, rolling tone dampened as it approached the coming dawn, though it seemed to echo louder in the present darkness. A darkness Buke seemed unable to peer through, as his gaze flicked about. "Fucking¡­ Hells." He gasped. "Rick¡­"


    "Do NOT call me tha- agh!" I slammed on the drums as I fell to my knee, hacking mucus and blood. "You- fucking¡­ pig."


    "Aye. I''m¡­ greedy. As is. Every¡­ one. From. Chor." He shivered in the slowing rhythm of my tune, though his unfocused eyes never trailed from the ceiling. "Bard. Rogue. Bar¡­barian. Fence. It''s¡­ struggle. Makes us. Great. You. Had. To be¡­ great. Rick¡­ley"


    "So you-" I gagged, needing to swallow what felt and tasted like a handful of copper. I spat it in his face instead. Then collapsed to my knees at his side. "You. Stole¡­ everything!" I forced out a pained laugh as the dark veil overtook my vision, leaving the emptiness clouding his eyes as the only observable thing to my mind and body. "Not. For you. To decide."


    "N- no.¡± He gasped. ¡°Seems... not."

 316 - Familiar Faces

    Buke''s song came as an airy gasp that turned misty. Corporeal, almost. Like a stream of golden sand that fell through that veil of darkness, finding its way to my body. Even when I could not.


    My death song never came. Instead, half of my senses returned from that veil of darkness. My mind remained suspended in that timeless realm, listening to squelching and sucking and the splattering of viscous fluid. I felt burning knives being traced along my chest and throat. I felt something meddling with my organs, taking things out and filling them with something... uncanny. I tasted¡­ something, in that darkness. And then¡­ nothing.


    My song never echoed through that emptiness. I waited an eternity to hear its ring, so I knew, all I experienced was an unchanging eternity. There was no sense of self, no hopes or dreams, no fears; no worries. Only darkness. Until there was not.


    It came like that stream of gilded sand; which itself appeared from nowhere, but this time was different. They were as large as rocks, not small like grains. Motes or globules of golden light drifted through that veil of darkness to find and merge with my disembodied self, returning my senses bit by bit.


    First came a distant but noticeable cold beneath me. Something hard- the ground. But¡­ blanketed by a layer of something thick and slimy. Then came the sound of creaking wood: a swinging door. And¡­ howling wind, pushing it back and forth. The tang of metal, churned with the nose-curdling smell of rot forced my eyes open soon after. bringing the most profound realization upon me. I tasted death''s feast. But when I stood and looked before me, I saw the object of my revenge, disemboweled and deceased in his tossed-up waiting room. Through the slit in the closed shutter, I saw the beige streets of Chor illuminated in the golden light of dawn. Yet, the door next to it swung back and forth by the howling winds of an open plain of snow and grass, far from any city. And so, I ran.


    I ran through that dimensional door and found myself deep in the wilds where monstrous creatures dwelled and the rule of law was the center of a cruel joke. Where, exactly; I knew not, other than that I was further from Chor than I had ever been in my thirteen years of living, and I wanted to go further. So I ran on, stopping only when the sun rose. Though, not because I was exhausted. On the contrary, I ran throughout the day and had yet to tire. Nor was I hungry or thirsty. I wasn''t shaky or wired from the shock. Despite everything, I felt fine. I felt¡­ alive.


    Only then did the realization of what I''d done hit me like¡­ well, a charging bear-owl. Mental fatigue forced me to lean against a tree and find some solace in the setting sun cascading against the snow. And perhaps some memories.


    I remembered the dream. It seemed irrelevant in the beginning. Artists and rogues alike gained inspiration for pieces or traps in their dreams all the time; because of the Gods, some say. And though the promise of a reward should have been something of caution, the dream only gave me a plan for what I aimed to do in the first place. And what I would receive in return, I believed, would make it all worth it in the end.


    Regardless, I orchestrated my revenge. Buke was dead. But his body remained in his store room. Waiting for the city guard to round up the monstrous animals I set free so they could find him. Meanwhile, I somehow faked my death and went on the run to an unknown region with only a set of drums and the clothes on my back. Clothes that were somehow devoid of blood and goo.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.I died. But¡­ I somehow didn''t. Or perhaps I did. I couldn''t make heads or tails of it.


    I remembered being sick before. I remembered before I woke up, feeling¡­empty. Now, I felt like I had the lungs of a storm giant. But, as I soon learned, I didn''t have to breathe. I felt my heart beating powerfully, and worryingly slowly all the same despite me running all day. Now, I just felt¡­ exhausted. Not fatigued or out of breath. But¡­ heavy in the mind.


    "You''ve made a pact and become a devil, Rickley. Or you''re some type of special zombie." I concluded about an hour later. But it was so ridiculous I could only hang my head between my knees in denial. And in doing so, I noticed two things.


    The slime, although it had somehow been removed, melted my hair from my scalp before then. It came out by the handful, making me despair for nearly an hour more. Until, at least, I realized I still had Buke''s pendant. On further inspection, however, I realized the differences. Or rather, I began to obsess over them. No longer was it a slightly tarnished brass coin of some eccentric design. It was now gold with a blacker-than-black horned owl on the face, looking at me with eyes filled with countless stars. The most intricate etching surrounded the figure, giving the impression of a aura of light surrounding the creature.


    How close, I wanted to get to it; such a sense of longing I felt towards it, I had to put it on, I thought. And from the moment it hung from my neck, I believed I would never take it off.


    "You don''t get away from me that easily, Rick."


    My heart dropped before I shot up, spinning to snarl at the face I hated most in this universe, standing before a familiar beast. "How?" I sneered.


    "As I tried to say before. ''Seems I''m not the one who decided you must be great. Unfortunately, your little hole in the wall gave you cancer in the lungs. You were already going to perish, Rickley. The Shadow of Death haunted you. Thus you have been pulled from the realm of death and made to straddle it. You have been reborn as an Undying Fiend, Rick. As have I, as... your Umbra Emperor."


    With a flair across his frame with both hands, my eyes were pulled across the many changes to Buke''s form. His skin was exceptionally pale. No more was it the deep tan he was known for. He was so pale around his cheeks and belly that I could see the veins within. Yet he retained a subtle glow that seemed both there and not. His hair was now midnight black but he retained the same rotund body and face he was known for. Most drastically of all were the fiendish horns, claws, and tail he now sported. Blacker-than-black with white tiger stripes running across the bases. Minus the tail, which was barbed like a scorpion.


    "I am a... zombie, infused with machines, enchantments, wickedness, and unholy power." He explained before I could ask, then pointed a clawed finger towards me. "And you, Rick, are an Undying Fiend. Half-undead, for now. Half-devil, in time. You are charged with claiming the souls of the departed for your patron by attending the Bardic College of Requiem."


    "So... I''m a warlock?" I asked calmly, though I still despised the fact that Buke was standing here, nodding in response to the obvious question. But then again, my next question wasn''t as obvious. "To whom?"


    Although I had an idea- more of a hope- I needed to hear it to even begin to believe it; yet Buke seemed to know that much in his undead form. "We will meet him soon enough." He offered an unsettling smile before gesturing to the beast beside him- the now much, much larger poison frog. Now fashioned with a sun-shaded saddle befit for royalty.


    "Well, I suppose that''s that. But¡­" I sighed, turning to Buke with an uncompromising glare. "You are not sitting on my saddle."


    He huffed in contempt. "I don''t intend to," was all he said before the frog opened up its maw to eject a fleshy tendril toward Buke. It latched onto him violently, almost consuming him whole before the tendril retracted into its mouth with lip-licking satisfaction.


    "Oh, I can get used to that." I snickered, crawling my way to the saddle. And after getting settled, I began to truly relax for the first time in my life; unworried as we made our way south towards the Mountains of Rhar, sending deafening drums across the lands with each death-defying leap across the countryside.

 317 - Tenacious Gods

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    22nd of Trescia, 1492.


    Principality of Nevstan, Kurnak Land. The Cuttleship, 10 km altitude above the City of Chor.


    18:22.


    ***


    I knew not if it was the charisma he came into this world with; the charisma granted from being a Drow mixed with a child of the Nox; or the result of some master plan using tactics brought here from his world of war, knowledge, and industrial deities. I knew not how he did it, even though the answers were plainly obvious. He appealed to the ambitions, hearts, and minds of the most broken and downtrodden mortals, no matter the species, creed, or gender.


    That was it.


    And yet, there was no skepticism to be seen among the many recruits or refugees or whatever they were meant to be called. Even Tacnan Gemeye, a deep gnome who knew well of Zimysta Falls before his capture, agreed to work for me, the 1st Son of House Za''Darmondiel, most infamous in all the realms. Although he did so with trepidation, he did so without skepticism. But even that did not last long.


    It happened after the newcomers thanked their saviors by agreeing to follow them and pledging their lives to them. At the time, I was conflicted about the act. On one blade''s edge, I was under the impression that the surface dwellers thought it a cruel gesture for saviors to take advantage of helpless refugees by conscripting them, and thus was surprised when they eagerly accepted. On the other edge, I understood there was nowhere else for them to go, and this was the best option for them. Even then, however, I could not understand one thing: Why?


    I pondered it heavily while they were bathed, fitted with new clothes, fed, and connected to the various networks. Something that, as deserved, was of peculiar interest to everyone. As Tacnan pointed out, it was no different from viewing one''s spiritual grimoire. Yet, the information it held was insurmountable. After being shown to their quarters, they stepped into an array of temporally distorted chambers to study and learn the desires of their hearts, rather than what Amun suggested. All without the need for questions or searching. The device did all that for us, I came to learn, by reading not our minds but our souls, it produced a list of what was most interesting, tailored the lessons to befit the individual''s learning style, and began the lessons at the most basic level.


    In the case of almost everyone, their studies began with literacy and counting. With Amun throwing his divine mana around the ship, however, the lessons were learned nearly instantaneously, making veritable scholars in mere hours.


    As was the case with the others, Tacnan, my future high archivist, stepped inside a time distortion chamber to spend weeks, if not months, growing acquainted with the various devices; using the divine powers leaking in to aid in his efforts tremendously. He returned hours later, asking to see Amun with the crazed eye of an artificer with an exceedingly dangerous idea. Perhaps it was. Although I cannot deny that it intrigued me.


    When Amun arrived, not seconds after his name was spoken, Tacnan implored Amun to create a dreamscape tome based on his combined lifetimes. While reluctant, Amun agreed. But only on the condition that Eomen and the Legions see it too.


    I know not if it was some master plan Amun conceived, as I am still convinced he had done in Shujen. But what he created served as his greatest source of faith for eons.


    What I saw brought me to tears. Not out of sadness, like Tacnan, who crawled to his chamber and wept for hours. I shed tears because it was the greatest lore I had ever heard¡ªa tale of primitive, mud-dwelling humans tossing aside their ancient myths and legends in favor of logic and art. Tenacious creatures who lived in a world of death and no magic, devoted themselves to learning everything about their reality so they could thrive, even in places they could not survive. And they did it. But at great cost. Constant war. Wars that could eclipse many seen in the Mortal Plane in terms of both prowess and ferocity. Wars that matched the Rending in terms of ferocity, and eventually scale.


    In those visions, we realized, war was what made those gods divine, not some tenacious curiosity. War birthed inventions that could not just fly through the sky faster than any wyrm but could drop spells capable of slaying hundreds of thousands on the other side of the globe in one blow; all without consuming a drop of mana. War saw a young Amun scarred and broken for decades. War saw his hand be forced into killing a child no older than Iris in an attempt to save his friend, all for naught. I would have thought it a foolish thing, had I not lived through his training, his bonding with those men and women; had I not felt the sickness in his stomach, the despair in his mind, the dark coldness pooling around his heart, and his long war overcoming it, I would have thought it a foolish thing.


    War. It was also the simplest aspect, I realized. For it was the natural result of the true power held by those deities. Their power was to apply their knowledge of the natural world to create magic. Technology, they called it. With it, they devoted themselves to learning more and continuously improving that technology, generation after generation, until they came to rule the world; and when that was accomplished, they left their world to impose their will over new worlds. Inhospitable worlds. Even the void itself.


    War that made those deities- Amun- everything that existed in this realm, merged into one being. They could be savage arbiters of war like the orcs were said to be. Or, loving and carefree like your stereotypical halfling. They were scavengers like goblins; but so too were they craftier than any gnome, capable of turning garbage into masterpieces. They were as industrious as any dwarf and had the artistic touch of an elf. They were loyal like the dragonborne, unyielding like the giants, and as studious as the eldest of dragons. And somewhere among them, Amun existed. Lived. Suffered. Thrived. Died. And when he arrived in this universe, he all but vowed two things--to bring the magic of his people into this universe while he learned all there was to know and to make it all but impossible for him to lose those close to him, as he experienced so long ago.


    As stated, that revelation birthed a new fervency in everyone. Myself included. Almost every soul in the Cuttleship spent the remainder of that night in their time chambers waiting for Amun to stop by and ''read'' what classes people could obtain through their studies; trailed, of course, by me.


    Iris had perhaps the most populated region. Strangely enough. Or perhaps not. Her 14 subordinates were all her age or under and maimed in some way. Be it physically or mentally or be they from Chor or beyond the borders of the Mazi Council, it mattered not. Many were missing limbs. Others were sickly or had brain damage. The gladiators from Mazi often had an abundance of smaller health issues such as fractured bones or scarred organs, light infections, or improperly healed wounds. One, in particular, was missing his jaw, but two families were spared because their services in healing and food preservation made them invaluable to the barbaric tribes, but even they were scarred.


    Regardless of their ailments, Amun helped Iris by using his divine powers to repair their bodies using metals and ceramics just as we saw in his memories. Never in my life would I have thought machine men were possible, but here they were, and with prestige classes down the line for the lot of them. Artificers, clerics, witches, and paladins. Even a monk, fighters, a bard, and a rogue. Prestige classes and something never seen before, he made sure to tease me; yet before he made sure to tell them not to spoil the surprise for anyone.


    After composing tomes for each of their classes, we flew down the esophagus to Freki''s domain, wherein we entered a verdant expanse of hidden complexes embedded into hillsides. Outside, however, his subordinates were hard at work, sitting atop hills in massive tents to oversee their countless machine farmers and skeletons tirelessly working the fields. There, I learned that Freki was a humble boaster. Either that, or he was proud of his accomplishments; as he deserved to be. He took 42 of his werewolf farmers and called them False Shepherds. In Chor, he hired four bards, stating they, the Fruitful Four, would complete his vassal workers.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    He then introduced us to the head farmers he called Harvest Wardens, each in charge of a different type of agriculture or industry. Food Crops, Livestock, Mariculture, Industrial Crops, Herbals, Lumber, Brewing Crops, Magical Crops, and Darkworld Crops. All were grown or managed in the time-accelerated domain across the way, where every aspect of their growth was monitored without end. They were coming upon their first harvest, which would see the Legions become self-sustaining in terms of most resources. And, Freki made sure to tell us, the denizens of the places he would travel as well, as he would ensure they saw an end to starvation. Their sights were already past that, however. Ed had inspired him, he explained. So he wished to create a transportation network also. Not to distribute people but food. Done by using specially packaged boxes, bottles, and cans that could keep fresh longer and be distributed more easily.


    Me and Amun thought it an impressive or otherwise noble undertaking. Then proceeded to conduct our business, learning that all of Freki''s subordinates were on the same barbaric and warlock paths as he. In addition to a plethora of additional classes. Including, for Freki, a paladin''s oath.


    From there, we continued to the ink sack, containing Geri''s forest that looked much like the land below. If one ignored Kit, the Omni-wagon, the army of canines running throughout the space, and the mountainous walls boasting many caves. When we found Geri, she was huddled around six girls boasting fresh bite marks on their hands. Like Freki, they were all in the same ranger conclave as Geri. However, much to our surprise, they were all capable of becoming artificers as well. With a couple of bards on top of that.


    She told us they were fascinated with the vehicles Amun''s people built to race, go ever-faster, and reach places they could not have survived in. They have since been learning how to not just use the vehicles but to create and maintain them to build a racing league for themselves. I was impressed with their devotion and eager to see it come to fruition. Although not as much as I was to see Blude accomplish her goals.


    In the liver, she created a great lake or a small sea. Whichever it was, it seemed larger than Shujen Bay, occupied only by Blude and her eight subordinates. All future rogues of the most organized variety, containing specialized roles or occupations that would allow them to blend seamlessly into any society. A mafia of professionals who would be capable of transforming into great beasts of the sea.


    With her many fields of industry already underway and mine moving along as well, the ship grew quiet until now, when the time to train pulled everyone to Amun''s domain. Normally, such a thing would occur in a chamber so we could use our powers freely. But this time, Amun brought us to his balcony and pointed, pulling our eyes up to look down at the Mortal Plane''s surface.


    "My other half is working right now. He''s due to send us presents."


    I looked down and saw nothing for several minutes. Then, a flash of movement came from the slums and Amun flicked his finger upwards in response, lifting a blanket of deep purple mana from the ground. Soon after, a rainfall of animals came flying towards us. I had never seen such a variety of surface beasts, and the NoxNet identified each one; both songbirds and raptors; felines and canines; reptiles and amphibians; magical and non-magical beasts; all displayed before us like some merchant''s selection.


    "Take your pick."


    Iris went first, lunging towards several puppies with short and stubby legs like that of a dwarf. She took one with a red, black, and white coat, leaving the others to waddle towards Geri and Freki with the other canines, who offered no complaints. But Amun saw the dwarf dogs and his face lit up just as bright as Iris''


    "Ooh, Corgis!" He swept one with red and white fur, then watched a school of aquatic creatures, reptiles, and amphibians creep towards Blude and her girls, who only seemed happy to receive them.


    Curiously, much the same happened to me. All the felines swarmed me as if I was their God and not Amun. But it was one in particular that I saw just as dearly. It was a child of its kind. Or a cub, as it was called. Like Iris'' corgi, its underbelly was covered with white fur and a beige-orange sheen covered its backside, remaining unbroken along its backside from maw to tail, save the many majestic black spots covering the breadth of its body. Designated, in the network as Panthera Onca.


    As one creature in particular grew closer, however, Amun''s scowl became more apparent. As did the object of his ire. A bear-owl.


    "I fuckin'' knew it!" He growled. "These things are unnatural. Someone decided to taint the sanctity of the owl by merging it with a bear. Now," he quickly raised his palms to me. "I love bears as I love every other animal. But browls are the exception. I''ve made it a personal mission to destroy each one I come across. This is only the fourth one."


    I knew from our talks that owls were one of his divine manifestations- or a representation of his Twilight Domain. For them to be mixed with anything was sacrilege in his eyes. It was something that both disappointed and intrigued me, for I lamented that I wished the Demon Spider felt such a way before reminding myself that I needed to forget about her. Which was easy, considering he called it a¡­ browl.


    Amun stole my attention, however, with a single question. "How high is your pain tolerance?"


    "Not as great as yours." I laughed dryly, fearing where this was going and awed by the ease with which his gravity mana constricted the powerful beast.


    "Tap out whenever you reach your limit." He said, palming the beast before gesturing for me to do the same to him.


    Tentatively, I palmed his chest. And with a final nod, he sent a wave of necrotic energy through the¡­ browl and absorbed it back into himself before he funneled it into me.


    Fire- hotter than anything I could ever imagine- shot up my arms in painful ripples. Through my elbows and up my shoulders it went, threatening to tear joints from sockets and tendons from muscles, heal them, and subject me to the torture all over again. My body protested in horrendous cracks and pained groans. In defiance, my muscles cramped shut. My neck craned into my sternum while my back arched hard enough to slip a disk. Yet, water- cooler than anything I had ever touched- flowed around me. Mana, it was. The signs of a natural mana reaction- a minor evolutionary change forced onto my spirit to accommodate my body''s growing strength. When I could take it no longer, I released and collapsed, writing in pain while Amun stood as calmly as ever, despite his muscles rippling and bones cracking, shifting and elongating into a slightly taller and broader frame to fit the absurdly dense muscle growing within.


    The result was obvious. For both of us. I was already at my peak physical condition. Only ki could make me stronger. That wasn''t the case for Amun, however. He broke the realm of super strength at the start of his battle in Shujen. Now, he was stronger. But now, I was within the realm of super strength as well. I could feel it. The power. It was like I molted and emerged in a body of newfound and unyielding strength.


    It was¡­ addicting. Dangerously so. Even for Amun. Noted by the eagerness with which he approached the carcass to lift it overhead in the same way I''d done my jaguar cub moments ago.


    "Here. This weighs about eight hundred kilos." He approached Iris, cracking the stone with each step as he held the massive creature out in his hands. "Test your strength by passing it around."


    I thought him insane until she walked up to the thing and struggled to take it on her shoulder. Then I thought her terrifying. Even more so when she took a deep breath and screamed, heaving the beast overhead with great effort.


    Blude and her girls went next, picking the thing up with much less effort than Iris. Surprising even themselves with how they could wrap their arms around it and carry it like a big basket. Although, Blude, with her Gerdian blood, was stronger than the lot of them by far, being able to lift it overhead with one hand. While undoubtedly impressive, Geri and Freki could toss the thing around as if it were a robe. More so Freki, being capable of doing so with one hand but with strained effort. And then there was me, who struggled to even lift it off the ground.


    "As members of the Elven Devil''s Troupe, you must be able to keep up with me. ''Cause I won''t wait on you." He told us with a charming smirk. "That means you have to steal enough strength to be on par with mine. Or, in the case of Geri and Freki, you must get ability enhancements to increase your dexterity and agility. That''s what I''m currently training. And that''s why..." He paused, sending out a wave of spatial darkness to the far distance. From it, came a track of floating obstacles and traps suspended in the air by orbs of purple mana. "I suggest we have an obstacle race."


    "...To where." I hesitantly asked, knowing the answer to be ridiculous.


    Case in point. "Redagh."


    "It is a daunting task. But." I snorted in mild disbelief. "Part of me is excited to learn how fast I can fly."


    "That''s the spirit!" Geri tapped her massive fist on my shoulder. But Iris took it to another level.


    "Fuck yeah! I''ve been waiting to use my new arms!"

 318 - Mortal Playground

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    "Fuck yeah! I''ve been waiting to use my new arms!"


    A small part of me knew better. But I wanted to ask or at least learn about the cause of her excitement. But alas. The ever-energetic Iris Cole leaped into motion before her words were even spent.


    What happened next had to be replayed on the VoidNet over and over again to be made sense of.


    While hovering a few meters off the ground, Iris extended her arms and legs as if she were cheering and closed her eyes. A flash of deep blue overcame her, seeming to peel strips of her upper arms and thighs away like ribbons. Like a cascade, those ribbons peeled away more and more of her arms and legs, spun about like a corkscrew, and vanished from sight until all was left were metal caps at the end of her severed arms and legs, both radiating with enchantments and divine power. I could only begin to study them before the ribbons returned en masse, cascading away from those hubs as they spun and compressed into new limbs.


    The ribbons from her thighs materialized and secured into place with a series of satisfying clicks, eventually forming thin but squat legs of mithral coupled with some type of material that grew into a thin coat of blue and white feathers. As ribbons kept clicking into place, forming feathered knees and ankles, the fur continued spreading upwards to her lower back to reach around her waist, blossoming into a skirt-like plume of feathers just before the synthetic flesh around her ankles formed into a pair of talons. From her arms, the ribbons compressed and clicked into thin, hag-like bones that grew to a span of nearly two meters before they ended in elongated finger-like hooks. Then the feathers grew. Like magic mushrooms in the Darkworld, the feathers grew by centimeters within seconds; forming within moments, a wide pair of wings that began flapping at once, sending powerful gusts over the lot of us.


    "Oh, yeah." Geri suddenly rocked back after squinting at her for several seconds. "I forgot you can do that."


    "That''s right!" Iris cheekily beamed.


    I scoffed, rolling my eyes away from the panels and windows detailing the many blessings and enchantments imbued within her synthesized flesh. In hindsight, however, I should have realized it before. Iris Cole was far from normal. That much had been true from the start. But to think she could create interchangeable limbs and store them away in a pocket dimension was¡­ unthinkable.


    As she took to the skies, the illusions born from the networks took my mind away from the mechanical human and pulled my eyes towards the south, where a large checkered flag waved tantalizingly above some distant mountain beneath some rather exhilarating words.


    {Challenge: 1/2: Measure your top speed in the following categories. Unpowered. Mana Bolstered. Ki-Fueled.}


    {Challenge: 2/2: Measure your maximum range of travel.}


    Only Amun utilized his obstacle course, leaping across chasms in the sky as he went from obstacle to obstacle, laughing his way through a suspended course only a maddened artificer could build. And while we raced and ran, we also watched him train his agility in ways few others could. Past massive swinging axes and through fields of arrows, he dove and danced, uncaring of the many scars and arrows littering his form. Down slopes riddled with holes and caltrops, he slid; flipping and spinning on the ground to evade the many traps set within. On and on until the seemingly infinite course ended and he fell to the ground to take up a sprint with the rest of us. Then he teased and egged us on to go faster as he leaped over boulders, skipped through canopies, and flipped over rivers while Iris dipped and weaved at his tail.


    That served to push Geri and Freki into their wolf forms. Using platforms and wakes of flame and frost, they bounded and pushed themselves through the skies to catch up with Blude, Redd, and Sam, swimming furiously through the skies just behind me; unrelenting for two entire hours.


    {Personal Record Updated. Unpowered Top Speed: 27.2 Meters per second.}


    It seemed we all got the message at the same time. However, it was clear only a few of us had any grasp of the art. Me, Amun, and Iris flooded the ambient area with arcana as it gathered in our bodies, nearly shocking my legs still until I remembered who adopted her. Then we left the others in the dust.


    I managed to keep pace just behind Iris. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn''t catch up to the speedy child. Much less her adoptive father. She even changed back to her legs at some point, allowing me to close the distance before she opened it with an evil giggle and a sudden burst of speed.


    I experienced an epiphany as their bodies faded across the distant plains. Their secret- or rather, their abundant speed came from splitting their focus in two. Rather than ponder it as I normally would, however, I simply tried it and took half of my focus to direct my arcana into creating an air-slicing wedge placed before me. I learned what speed truly was, after pressing forward. It was like taking a drug for the first time. Terrifyingly exciting. The world became a blur of white and green after I took that first step and felt the veil of air cease its push against me. Thus I activated the powers given to me to slow my perception of time down to a crawl, and I realized. With a slight misstep, I would be left as a puddle of gore on the face of some rock or tree.


    But by the Gods, it was thrilling.


    {Personal Record Updated. Bolstered Top Speed: 92.5 m/s.}


    A manic grin overtook me as I read the words, causing my heart to pace in ways I hadn''t felt in years. I found my body acting on its own as if I had trained to do this. But in truth, it had only ever been a theory of mine. And so, with a simple burst of arcana paired with a release of my ki, I used the innate powers of my species to release my tether from the ground just before activating Step with the Wind.


    I learned what fun truly was after kicking off the ground. It was¡­ intoxicating. Unhealthily addicting. Yet I was not finished. I found myself utilizing the knowledge given to me to collapse the vacuum I created at a point just behind me while the perks of my class activated, releasing virtually solid plates of ki from my foot, kicking out to meet it.


    Finally, through the power of my Astral Pulse Step, I caught up to Amun and Iris. I could not be frustrated to find the former still treating this like a game. Not with my intrigue at the latter, propelling herself with jets of fire screaming from the hubs on her severed limbs


    {Personal Record Updated. Ki-Powered Top Speed: 352 m/s.}


    {Badge Earned: Supersonic.}


    {Goal: 2/2: Measure your maximum range of travel.}


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


    I continued dancing across the peninsula for two more hours, absorbing the endless stream of information shown to me through the VoidNet. Animals. Locations. Landmarks. The border to Vrur. Even people. And of course, our destination- Redagh, the land of druids. It was a place I had never been. As was Bakewia and the Principality of Nevstan, and now the open fields of the Southeastern Vrurian Empire. I had never been beyond the Shujen Kingdoms. Now, I was treating the Bodhi Peninsula like Nydorden Halls. And soon, I would go far beyond these borders. Eventually, I would go across the Mortal Plane.


    This was freedom, I realized. The type of freedom that could only be granted by Gods.


    Silently vowing to make the most of my circumstances, I began exploring my limits, focusing on expanding my consciousness to the realm around me. In doing so, I came across an interesting spectacle and I pleaded for us to stop.


    "Tired?" Amun teased. And though I was a bit winded, that was hardly it. I pointed down to a colossal fault running up most of the vast country. From this distance, only a small roil of brown energy could be seen pouring from it. But that changed nothing. "That is an Intense Mana Zone attributed to the earth."


    His eyes snapped to the abyssal chasm and visibly wowed at the sight of perpetual earthquakes, dust storms, and landslides. "Really?" He asked with a budding interest, despite him certainly sensing the virulent mana flowing from the chasm.


    "I guarantee many magical creatures attuned to the earth dwell down there. As does earth elementals, I am sure. But that is not what interests you and I. We were here for the side effect of such potent energies."


    By then, the others caught up and collapsed to the ground at once. But I paid them little mind for now. "Specifically, we are here for the potent ki found within the creatures that call this place home." I paused, preparing to take up my role to the fullest. "Life thrives in mana. There are different types of mana for different beings. Wicked or cursed for fiends, divine for celestials and Gods. Necrotic for undead. In high enough concentrations, mana drives evolution. Simple creatures grow stronger, larger, or more intelligent. They then mutate, some becoming giant or dire versions of themselves, others becoming magical. Few, those in the vicinity of a Life Tree or a powerful divine tree, become the so-called divine beasts.


    "Such creatures are great emitters of ki. As are the environments in which they dwell." I gestured around us. "Continuing down the path means learning to use this environmental ki to boost the energy within ourselves. Effectively opening the first ki pond."


    "Hmm. It would be the perfect time for the rest of you to train." Amun scratched at his chin for a few moments. "But only three of you have any undead. And none of you have any doppelgangers."


    "Another of your aids to turn men into monsters?" I asked, ignoring the answer presented to me.


    "Yes and no." Amun shrugged. "The spell was passed down from my grandfather to my father to me. It was the first real sorcery I learned. It was how me and my vassals trained throughout our childhood, which only made it harder. After all, imagine fighting yourself every day."


    "Why don''t we have them again?" Iris asked as she made loops in the sky.


    "You''re not just a human anymore." He said, looking up at her. "You and those under you are Augmented Humans. A new phenotype, created through my divinity. On top of that, I gave you some of my blood and genes. You''re my daughter, so you''re a Goddess through and through. You two are celestials and sorcerers of the seasons. Albeit cursed and corrupted." He pointed to Geri and Freki. "As such, your doppelgangers no longer exist. For all intents and purposes." Amun paused turning to Blude and her girls. "You all will be the divine version of Geri and Freki. Only, they''ll merge with your body, spirit, and soul while keeping your mind separate. And since you haven''t killed your parents, your memories and personalities won''t be all scrambled.


    "Lastly." Amun turned to me with a curious sigh. "A certain someone has expressed interest in you. Don''t ask, ''cause I won''t tell." He quickly said, smirking at me. "But we''ll be meeting her soon enough."


    "Soon enough." I echoed trepidatiously.


    "We only have two more stops until then." Amun cheekily nodded. "That said, you all are warlocks, true. But you''re also my proxies, for now. I''ve given you all a chunk of my divine power that will one day grow into your domains. A much larger chunk than my clerics, clergy, and paladins, but a chunk nonetheless."


    "A chunk." Freki cackled maddeningly, shaking his massive head.


    "More will come as I move further down my path," Amun said matter of factly, prompting another cackle from Freki. "The point is," he continued, "you all can do much of the same things I can do. Including some variation of the doppelganger spell, not to mention necromancy."


    "In truth, that is one of my monastic abilities," I admitted. "I can detach my true self and have it operate independently. Though it is invisible and cannot speak."


    "Use the same concept but with the magic I gave you," Amun said, beaming with a child-like enthusiasm.


    With a nod, I focused on the small well of absurd power orbiting mine and simply withdrew. No limitations were imposed on the well. Only my intentions were used to dictate how much energy was needed to conjure a flash of violet light through my eyelids.


    When the light faded, I opened my eyes to see dozens of ethereal copies of myself staring at each other with wild eyes. Then the others scrambled into motion, releasing energy from their wells to reveal exceptionally strange clones. Bodies of amorphous water, steam, and ice from Blude and her girls. A being of flickering light from Iris. And from Geri and Freki, something spectacular. Geri''s clone was a wolven woman. But it had not skin and fur but a body of vines and flowers frozen solid. As was Freki''s. A wolf of burning brambles, smoldering vegetables, and charred leaves.


    The look on Amun''s face could not have been more excitable as he encouraged us further. "I''ve found that after casting the spell with the voice and then giving the Doppelgangers existential conditions, it makes a more complete version of the copy."


    "You even made deals with your doppelgangers." I chortled. But Amun only shrugged.


    "Eh, I suppose. I tried it and learned the clones can share experiences with the originals and take in information from me through eye contact. By that point, I decided to have them be permanent assistants to the people I helped in Maru. They''d be teachers. Trainers. Therapists. Friends. Coworkers. Whatever they needed. Now, though." He chortled. "People use them to boost production or care for their families during the day and keep operations running at full speed throughout the night."


    That gave me an idea. As it did for several others, it seemed, as we all dismissed our clones and took several minutes before reforming them as Amun explained.


    Knowing I could summon many clones with a fraction of my total energy, I focused on withdrawing the same amount of energy and dreamed up a single being of supreme excellence before I released the constriction, allowing as much energy as needed to merge with my voice as I firmly said. "I summon thee, Naate, Supreme Astrosage."


    Naate formed as what appeared to be a solid copy of myself, bathed in the ethereal purple glow twilight, interspersed with bands of golden-orange gas and twinkling stars for eyes. After a moment of study, I instructed him to produce two clones and grinned wide at the success. Then prepared the energy in my voice once more. "Overall, the primary directive of all Astrosages is to assist me in my endeavors." Pausing, I turned to Naate and bowed. "The Supreme Astrosage''s directive is to oversee and manage the two Prime Astrosages and all others created by them." After receiving a bow, I split my gaze between those straddling him. "The first Prime Astrosage''s directive is to be an educator of the highest order. You are to work in the Astral Archives, training and teaching all who are allowed to enter whatever they should need to learn. So too shall you work beyond. Teaching and training those in need of learning."


    I received a bow following the order and thus turned to the other. "The second Prime Astrosage''s directive is one to be done in secret. Across all schools of training or learning in the Legio Noctis, you are to silently assess and recruit those suited for the black ops project."


    After a final exchange of bows, more divine magic and some of my arcana were withdrawn from my wells and sent funneling into the three clones. With it went the ethereal glow surrounding their bodies. Into their flesh, it merged to create solid beings identical to myself. Minus the golden streaks in their black hair as opposed to my still-white locks.


    When I finally turned, I saw identical copies of the rest of the Troupe, staring at me with raised brows and flickering eyes while they read on and on about the project.


    Freki was the first to bear his grin. "Now that sounds interesting."


    "We''ll have time to do all that later." Amun waved the matter aside with a temporal domain cast around the area. "Now is the time for training. So get your subordinates out here. We''ll only be here for a few days."

 319 - Dour Druid

    The Owl.


    22nd of Trescia, 1492.


    Blighted Woods, Redagh Republic.


    18:33.


    ***


    The Owl arrived in Redagh, surprised, for the Owl had never seen so many Shadows of Death haunting so many mortals in one place. Yet there was little to do but sit and wait for the coveted moment that would bring about the avatar of pestilential purity.


    That, however, was not to say the Owl was bored. On one wing, the Owl could watch the many subordinates of the Troupe learn and grow and train for days on end while mere hours passed by elsewhere. On the other wing, the Owl could watch a dour druid be verbally beaten and mentally abused by her so-called loving flock. That was not to say she was without fault, however, for she was a rebellious teen who often did the opposite of what''d been demanded of her. Such things were typical at her age. But in this instance, it yielded lethal results. And so, here the Owl was, watching the little birds react to an invisible threat with panic and destruction from the concealed perch of the Cane of Duality, standing at the center of Redagh''s Blighted Woods.


    There was, however, one problem. As a child of the Fae, the Owl could use neither magic nor material to put the dour druid to sleep. Half-elven or not, she would not freely fall into a slumber. Thus the Owl could not induce nightmares in her to offer the pact. Hence a different means of approach was necessary.


    Thus the Owl needed to do a little work. With materials born from Eotrom and corrupted in the Realm of Shadows, the Owl tinkered and toyed to make a gift, an offering, and for later, a reward. That was all that was needed: no preparation before and little to tidy up after.


    One little gift to see the offer accepted. One little present to make her into something incredible. Then, the Owl would sit back and enjoy the show.


    ***


    Reina Featherfall.


    ***


    For some reason or other, something attracted me to this place of cracked mud and withered branches. A forbidden place, open to only the cats and the ravens. The rodents and the serpents. A place where silence was ever peaceful. I loved this place, and perhaps that was why. The silence. Something I could never find within the group of nests I called home; always chirping, always squawking. Always flapping. Even in their sleep. Much less in flight. I could never stand it. Thus I came here. Something the flock could never stand. Not even when things began to change.


    It all happened so fast. Word of Lady Indra going to the great Bodhi Tree came to us as it did every year. With it came the arcane shells that let us witness the power of the students found there. All but one.


    I knew the tales of his clan, but I thought nothing of it. Not until I saw the great tree of void overshadow the ancient Bodhi Tree. And then came the earth herself, pulled from the ground to take root in the sky and be seen as sacred by all who called her home, even when it occluded the sun.


    Lady Indra returned changed. Stressed but relieved all the same. Shocked as were we after witnessing the child of darkness take no harm from the son of light, then proceed to defeat him without effort. Lady Indra returned and called to council the ancient elves- or every elf over 266 years. Something my father turned sour about. But life proceeded as normal all the same. Only, it did not. The Great Rock, the Second Sun, the Silver Eye. Whatever it was called, pulled the seas into a dance as it drifted around the Peninsula. Creatures both big and small thrived in the light it splayed across the night.


    Everyone became obsessed with denial. While confirming it was a divine act, they vehemently refused to think the child of darkness was the cause. Many became angry and bitter. Lady Indra became closed and distant. The once-united groves of Redagh split, allying or starting petty rivalries over who they thought was right. I was convinced we were wrong when the nests became ever louder. Thus my trips here became more frequent. And therein I noticed another miracle. A miraculous sight that I became obsessed with seeing.


    I began staying up later and later, moving to a nocturnal schedule until I caught the ire of my parents. And so, I resorted to acting as I am now: watching and waiting for the sun to dip beneath the Mortal Plane. Therein brought upon another past time of mine, however. People watching. For hours, I would stand at the far borders of the Blighted Woods and look across the great rift. Where the other druids saw a sea of stone far below and a towering mountain before them, straddling two wildly differing landscapes. I saw a realm of mysteries and adventure.


    All across the mountain were roads cut into the stone with railings of metal to support the carts or marching bands that always seemed to make use of them. I always found myself wondering where they were going, what they were carrying, and most importantly, how they made those strange wheeled boxes of wood and metal; and why they had to be pulled by other beasts. I was told they were traveling to and from the various mines around the mountain- places where they would attack the earth to gather metals or salt. Others told me the dwarves sold fantastic things at steep prices, so travelers would come to the mountains too. I could never understand why, though. Nor could I find out what exactly the dwarves sold that were so fantastic. Not even when the poachers were questioned.


    Looking north, I could look through the scattered clouds and see the expanding tundras of the Ligin Kingdom, said to be home to mounted bandits and knightly kingdoms that lived within towering city walls. But that only led me to wonder what they looked like, how they lived, and what exactly they were mounted on. To the south, I saw the war-torn lands of the Kasian Empire, said to be overrun with orcs and goblins that kept the native humans and dwarves in a state of constant war. But I could never understand why the humans and dwarves just wouldn''t leave, kill, or dominate the others like they always seemed to do.


    There were always so many questions. And as the months passed, those questions only grew until I found myself wondering how tiny rocks could float above the mountains or in nearby cities. I wondered how other rocks, some made of gas and fire, began to dance around the Silver Eye high above the sky. I wondered how the strange things used to navigate the mountain started to move on their own, go faster, or in some cases, fly.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    "So many questions." I sputtered my lips in lament. "Never an answer."


    Turning away from the landscape, I sought to check on the progress of the miracle. Only to find myself face-to-face with the most beautiful owl I had ever seen. Blacker than night, it was, with gold accents all along its lush feathers. The facial disk, shaped like a child would draw a heart, held a pair of eyes that seemed to be filled with countless stars that seemed to look at me like a long-lost friend.


    "Hello." I reached out cautiously. "What is your name-"


    A sharp squawk cut me off before I could finish. Sighing heavily, I turned and attempted to make my plea with a childish pout. "But it''s not dusk yet!"


    Another squawk was the only reply before the red and blue hawk took flight with haste.


    "Gone are the days that worked." I sighed, relenting. But took another look at the owl before I stepped off, only to find two feathers in its place. And so, after taking the one that didn''t disappear into the dark mist, I tentatively left the Blighted Woods, finding myself back in the canopy of the Deep Woods moments later. The only world I had ever known.


    When I found my perch in the nest I was met with a scowl only a mother could give. Tears welled and rolled down her leathery face, giving her stone-gray eyes a look that betrayed her brows nearly clashing together. Her body slouched as if relieved, but her scowl and worse, her tone, was nothing short of furious. "Venturing in the blighted woods again?" She rapidly chirped.


    "Nothing will happen to me out there." I turned away, muttering.


    "And yet, an owl perched before you!" My father snapped, rolling his ''r''s'' in that ear-grating way. "A black owl, Reina. You should fear for your fledging as I do." He sneered, pulling his face back in a way that made him look centuries older.


    ''That again.'' I rolled my eyes. Though I knew I should not have. It was a ceremony most important to the Feathered Grove. The time when we would first bond with the giant birds.


    "You are to fly tomorrow." Mother said in a pleading tone. "Yet, you persist on tainting yourself with that desolate place!"


    "But, we are of the Feathered Grove!" I insisted, then began reaching into the folds of my tunic. "Ravens have feathers! As do owls. Look- ow!"


    A stinging pain swelled in my hand the moment the gold-limned feather was pulled free. "You brought it to our nest?" Mothe shrieked, backing away as Father disposed of it with a leaf-gloved hand. "You brought it to our nest!" She hissed this time, approaching me with her lips curled and her fist clenched. But I stood defiantly.


    "Are you to strike me, mother?"


    "I very well may!" She squawked, flailing her arms. "And I''d be well within my rights to! You brought an omen into our nest, Reina! How can you not see that?"


    "Owls are no more evil than hawks!" I pointed towards Cherry, causing the proud raptor to recoil on her perch. "If that is deserving of a strike, then I will bring the owl here myself and prove you wrong!"


    Perhaps for the first time, my words got through to her. My dearest mother stood with her mouth agape for a few moments before she gripped my arm and dragged me outside, pulling me straight past my father as she spread her powers into our tree.


    I knew at once where we were going. Thus when the the winding halls of wood revealed a closed nest housing a shockingly young-looking woman with spindly limbs, I was hardly surprised.


    "Forgive this intrusion, Archdruid." Mother bowed, sidestepped, and pointed an accusing finger at me. "But my daughter needs to tell you of the taboo she has committed."


    If there was any concern felt by the Archdruid, she showed it not. She smiled patiently as I winced at my mother''s words, and calmly, she said. "Sit, Reina. Pray tell, what happened."


    I took a deep breath before I began, and soon noticed the many birds surrounding me and my parents on various perches. "I have been spending time in the Blighted Woods. I have ventured there in secret every evening. I have done so for over a year."


    A chorus of squawks echoed my words. Gasps from the stands of birds. And my parents. But not the Archdruid. She only asked. "Why?"


    "I enjoy the silence," I said calmly, suddenly uncaring of what was to come. I was already in the worst possible spot. Only a few things could have made the situation worse. Thus there was no use being afraid. "It is the only place I can go without hearing mother and father- nay, the entire grove squawking at each other," I said, still calm as I looked over each shoulder to meet my parent''s eyes. "It is the only place I can go to rid my ears of the arguments about the Silver Eye and the so-called Champion. The only place I can be free of my mother and father''s ire being released on me. I go there, Grandmother, because I don''t believe the Blighted Woods to be cursed, or even desolate. Life has appeared there. Cats of all types. Minks. Badgers. Mole rats. Rodents. Ravens. Many creatures. Yes, that includes owls. Creatures made by the Mother of Earth herself. How can they be evil, Grandmother, if they were created by the Mother?


    "And, recently." I pressed on, uncaring of her answer or my mother''s demands to use proper titles. "Something incredible has started to happen there. It only happens at dusk and dawn. Believe me. In time, it will be green again."


    She took my words in strides. Her face never changed, no matter how many points I made. Points that I knew rang true in the hearts of everyone present. The silence she let stretch on was proof enough; for, long ago, I realized such pauses were more theatrics than truthful pondering.


    As were the questions that came after.


    "Do you know the history of the Blighted Woods?" She eventually asked. And unlike her, I wasted no time with my answer.


    "Research on the woods is forbidden. Not that there are any records to speak of. Like everyone else, all I was told was that it had been in that state for many centuries."


    "The Raven Reaper created the Blighted Woods during her stay at the Bodhi Tree." She clarified. And strangely, many chirps and whistles rang through the nest.


    "Well, the Raven Reaper was a druid, yes?" I said, remembering all I could about her. "And a cleric of Grimm, the Reaper. Just because her clerical powers were of death does not mean her druidic powers did not come from the Mother of Nature. Death is a part of life too."


    "Enough!" Father stomped behind me, shocking me off my feet. But his mother waved him off.


    "You are well-studied, Reina. And wise beyond your years," she said with a discomforting smile. "What you say is true. Corvus Cole is a cleric of Grimm and a druid, in addition to being a Dhampir and the Necro King''s great-grandmother, but ravens and owls are omens of death still. Not because of their natures, but because of the malevolent deities who claimed them.


    "No deity claims the owl." I calmly countered. But she pressed on.


    "Doubly so for the creatures of that place. It is a corrupted land, tainted with wickedness and death. It is tainted not because of latent energies." She quickly added before I could counter. "But a type of... pheromone or spore. In truth, we know not what it is, other than its nature to spread to those nearby, corrupting their minds and killing their bodies slowly. The creatures you speak of are immune to those toxins. But you, Reina." She leaned back into her perch while her smile faded into a grim look of calm, aided by the point of a spindly finger in my direction. "You are already dead. And to bring an owl''s feather into this grove invites the same fate to us all. We cannot perch idly and allow this omen to befall us as well.


    "By right of the Feathered Grove''s Archdruid, I banish thee, Reina Featherfall, from the Grove Republic of Redagh." She coldly decreed, sealing my fate with a wave of her hand.


    "You have one hour to take flight."

 320 - Birds of a Feather

    I was pulled from the Archdruid''s nest before the shock could begin to wear off. Thus when I emerged from the winding halls of wood, I turned on my dearest parents before they could hope to enter the nest.


    "She puts the lives of the forest before the life of one fledgling, Reina." Father attempted to plead, but his ''r''s'' rolled in that ear-grating way that implied he was angry. "This was not a personal choice. There is more to those woods than you know. Even more than she told."


    "And yet, none of you have a hint of remorse or sadness. None of you even teach the fledglings you claim you love in the hopes of them staying away from the Blighted Woods." I scoffed. "I have doubts if you love anyone other than yourselves and your idea of how a hatchling should behave. So speak all you want, Father. Your words mean nothing to me anymore."


    "Enough with your snide remarks and disrespect!" Father stomped before me, but I yielded not a feather''s breadth. "To speak to the Archdruid that way. And then your mother! To me!" He slapped his palms against his chest. "Who do you think you are, Reina? What in the Seventeen Hells has gotten into you?"


    "It''s that accursed owl." Mother shuddered as if she was in pain. "It''s given her the mind of a devil!"


    "No, it''s all of you and your Gods damned superstitions!" I stomped the branch we stood on, causing it to tremble and sway. "You are cowards! All of you!" I tossed my arms about the canopy, where hundreds of birds and young children were watching before I pulled their eyes to the Silver Eye above, looking down on us all. So obsessed by denial and fear, you are, that you riot and turn your backs on the other groves and then fight amongst yourselves. And then your very children. Tell me!" I sneered, wheeling back to spit in the face of my dearest mother. "Was I ever your daughter? Or did you only pretend to be my mother so long as I obeyed your every word? Tell me how eager you must be to crawl into the nest and birth the hatchling you''ve always wanted!


    "Tell me!" I wheeled to face my father. "Tell me you love me like you lied so many times before! Then tell me how sorry you are about my fate, forgetting the fact you never apologized for anything! Then tell me what will happen if I refuse to leave, hmm? How long would it take you to decide to kill your dearest daughter? How long will it take you cowards to admit you''re all terrified of a little owl?" I asked the masses. But none responded. Thus I faced my father once again to see his fists, although weak from the Fae blood that coursed within him, had been bloodied and bruised from the anger balled into his fists.


    "Leave." He growled, pointing west. "Forgo your belongings and leave this land. Now!"


    My reaction was akin to a mirror of my father''s. I felt¡­ elated. Calm. Joyful. Like an immense weight had been pulled from my shoulders. Like a cloud had been lifted from my mind to reveal the memories of that fantastic owl. And I smiled, looking at my father and mother one final time before I descended the tree, singing so all the nests could hear.


    "May the Owl of Dusk rid this grove of cowards as you''ve rid yourselves of me. Long may his feathers rain! Long may you suffer."


    I did not run when I made it to the ground. I walked beyond the forest, following the trails I''d made over the months as I listened to the hateful chirps and squawks from the cowards behind me, matching voices and vocalizations to faces and memories until they faded into the distance and I found myself in the Blighted Woods once again.


    I missed the miraculous beginning. It would be long before the end. But that made it no less fantastic. The creatures of the night were out in abundance. Rodents were hunting bugs of all types. In turn, they were preyed upon by minks and badgers, who fell prey to the owls and big cats. The owl I saw earlier was here too. But so was another, perched atop a stick with a flat handle and a black tip that was limned in gold light like the rest of the creature. Its legs seemed to be made of polished stone or maybe metal. But its feathers and most importantly, its eyes were just as mesmerizing as the smaller owl perched next to it.


    "H- hello," I muttered, reaching out to the large owl. "My name is Reina."


    With a silent flap of its great wings, the Owl snapped its head down as if to groom itself but returned with a curious ring held in its beak and held it out as an offering of sorts.


    I accepted the offering with a bow, finding it to be a bone ring that fit neatly over my pinky, with a raised bit that unfurled into a small talon with a swipe of my thumb. "Thank you, Owl." I looked up at the creature''s magnificence, feeling overwhelmed. "This is the¡­ nicest thing-" I collapsed, feeling a new weight of sorrowful despair overcome me. A sense of pitiable wrath that came not from the prospects of my imminent death; but by my family''s reaction to it.


    "They never loved me, Owl!" I wailed. "My parents, ever loving until I wasn''t! They listened not to reason. They just... cast me aside! Left me to die alone. They never loved me! They''ve exiled me to die alone!" I sobbed pitifully, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion come over me. "They¡­ they hate me!


    "But that''s fine." I sniffed, lifted my eyes against the fatigue, and came to see the flickering torches waiting beyond the trees. "I hate them too. And as long as you''re here, Owl. I won''t die alone. So, please... don''t go. And¡­ if you can help me survive in this grove like you do¡­ I- I want to live."


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡ª¡ª


    I awoke in the dead of night. Or so I thought. The trees were still desolate. But no owls flocked about the place. There was only an intense gloom. A veil of darkness that seemed to ripple from the impenetrable beyond, carrying screeching calls that beckoned me forward. Almost like¡­ the call of a death owl.


    Born with the most uncanny faces of their ilk, they were the only owls to not hoot. Born with a hearted face that earned its place as an owl of death. More so than all the others. That was what called to me. But what I met was an imp sitting in a clearing of black brambles. An imp unlike any told in the tales.


    It sat on that pestilential ground, clutching its arms to its knees as if it were a weeping child; so perhaps it could have been larger, but it seemed to be no bigger than a small half-elven child with brown skin and ghostly white hair. This, however, was no child. Its clawed hands seemed to be made of solid darkness like the tales of devils described. As was the flowing veil of shadow that seemed to mimic some sort of decorative garb. The unsettling bit, however, was the lack of wings paired with the small bumps at the top of its brow; appearing similar to the pedicles on a deer''s skull but with ghostly white lines akin to tiger stripes or perhaps stretch marks. Something devils were never said to have.


    Habitually, I jumped back at the sight of the imp opening its eyes, showing orbs of white that seemed more at home in the skull of a dragon. But¡­ the irises were white. Just like the marks on its brow. "W- what are you?" I demanded, though my voice was nothing more than trembling whispers that only increased once the surroundings disappeared beneath an impenetrable wall of night.


    The reply came in the form of a deep, grating voice that echoed from all directions while the imp''s lips remained still. "Reina''s¡­ Ousted. Woeful. Lonely."


    Anger burned within my heart after hearing the insult. Yet, something lingered in the back of my mind. Whispered, almost. Telling me of the hidden meaning behind its words while simultaneously filling my mind with visions of what would happen were I to act hostile against this creature. So instead, I asked. "You called me here for a reason. W- what do you want?"


    "Revolution. Enmity. Indenture. Negation. Adventure."


    "That-" I stammered, and in that moment of shock, I took a deep breath to settle myself and recount the conversation thus far. Aloud, it seemed. "What am I? I am Reina. Ousted. Woeful. Lonely. And you... you''re the Owl. Reina''s¡­ owl." I stammered, shaking my head. "What do I want? To teach the nest the error of their ways. To show them the pain they''ve shown me. Revolution and enmity. I want... the Owl to¡­ negate my death. Even if it means being indentured to the Owl forever. Because then, I can adventure. You''re¡­ you''re speaking as if you had asked me, rather than the other way around. And then, you''re answering in my stead. But¡­ in a way that still gives my answers." I met the gaze of the little imp, staring at me with the same blank face it had when I first appeared. "You want¡­ me. My soul. But why?"


    Though it neither moved nor smiled, a peal of wicked laughter banged against the forested darkness around us, reverberating like a great ceremonial drum. "Now," the deep gratings of his voice echoed. "You have asked three questions. Now I shall make the inquiries. Reina Featherfall, I ask of thee. What is fear? What lies beyond vengeance?"


    I went silent for a moment, lost in deep thought. Only, I also felt as if my mind was as blank as the darkness around me. "Fear is a weapon that needs no hand to strike." I finally answered. Then found myself speaking more, much to my dismay. As if my inner thoughts were pouring from my mouth without my consent. "It attacks the individual, but it can spread to the flock like a disease. Thus it is the greatest weapon of all. A single prey animal reacting fearfully to a predator has the power to put the entire herd or flock into a state of panic. They often stampede or take to the skies but rarely do they fight back. More often, they stomp on each other in an attempt to save themselves. However, the same would be true were the roles be reversed. The prey that masters its fear is often found armed with the wit and courage to escape with their lives. Or in some cases, defeat the threat.


    As for the other question." I sighed, trying hard and failing to look away from those eldritch eyes. "An empty death."


    The imp let out a string of the same wicked laughter before it unclenched its arms and stood, rising to an impossible height above me, the trees, and the very skies. "Indeed." It boomed. "You are indeed aware." It bellowed, and this time the darkness seemed to bang against my very soul. "Death''s Door looms beneath you, Grimm''s Reaper awaits above. Your life is behind you, all you dream of sits before." Following another laugh, the lips finally peeled back into a knowing smile that reflected twin ridges of jagged spires into the void. "So now, with your mortal compass orientated, I ask you: If your conviction remains true, will you eat?" With a soundless motion, massive claws gestured down to its feet, where a feathered egg of darkness and gold stood where it''d just been sitting.


    There was no answer to give, much less a thought. Only a simple action that involved reaching out for the egg, breaking the shell, and biting into the putrid yolk; in turn receiving a burst of flavor in the depths of my mind that made it all so clear. I could see it. And each bite brought a glimpse of more. A glimpse of a future beyond the groves of Redagh. A life of power and knowledge; of pestilence and purity. A destiny, decided by none other than me. A home shared with many friends.


    A home filled with countless... Broods.


    I ate voraciously, desperate for what I saw to be made true at that instant. Eager to pursue what was needed to make it so. Unknowing of the darkness condensing around me, compressing against the lips of my soul until there was no choice but to drink.


    I drank voraciously, unknowing of the cold I''d grown so familiar with, hastily retreating from the oppressive heat bathing across the rocky cliffs and alpine trees until everything was devoured. And therein I awoke to find myself not in the Realm of Shadows as I''d been, I was in the Blighted woods once more. Therein I looked up to see the sun at its zenith. Then I turned about, hearing the squawks and calls paired with the ceremonial drums I once thought would signify the greatest moment of my life. Then, I smiled, for such a sentiment was still true. This was the day of my Fledgling Ritual.


    The final Fledgling Ritual of the Feathered Grove.


    "Long may his feathers reign."

 321 - Darkest Day

    Somehow, I had a plan; or rather, somehow, the Owl gave me a plan. One I would have never thought of. It involved ruining the fledgling celebration rather than the ritual. Thus the need for immediate action was removed and my day passed by just as countless days before. Then again, this time was different. The ravine seemed less distant while appearing as bottomless and wide as ever. Part of me believed I could jump the gap easily. Yet, another part of myself seemed tethered to these woods; like an invisible vine was dragging me down. So I sat, gazing at the mountains, the tundra, the taiga, and the war-torn lands; not to wonder, but to plan and decide where to go once my work here was done.


    Of course, that only lasted so long. I could only see, and in turn plan so far, after all. And while the sun was near to starting its nightly ritual, the celebrations had yet to begin.


    I tried to put them out of my mind- the gawking birds, stalking from the trees afar, or trying to, at least. I tried, but as the sun crawled further down, they began to consume my thoughts; for now, they would realize the truth of my claim.


    I tried not to smile when the golden eye of Tiatus seemed to spread its glory to the skies before it hid beneath the Mortal Plane, offering a breath of life with the last of its gilded rays to anything willing to accept it.


    Like the Blighted Woods.


    Like me.


    The rays swelled the once-petrified trees into gnarled trunks and spiraling branches; barked the same shade as the blue-violet clouds overhead. Their roots wound and spiraled across the dusty surface until they met the limit of their reach, wherein they began to spread a surface web of roots akin to a lush carpet of pitch-black moss; in turn, giving life to the withered plants and decayed brambles scattered about. Their stems turned the same shade as the trees before the golds, oranges, and reds of their lush flowers and leaves bloomed with puffs of golden pollen that fell to the ground to paint a mural of stars over the abyssal ground.


    As I''d done since this miracle first appeared, I skipped through the Duskwoods, tasting the mix of spices lingering in the air as I approached the trees to watch tiny golden buds grow and take shape into exotically shaped fruits that tasted of spiced pie. Warm and sweet and heavenly. It was the only time I could feel overjoyed- it was the only time I could be free. Eating and humming and dancing with the creatures of the night until the sun said its nightly goodbye and its golden rays dispersed, bringing the woods back to its blighted state until dawn.


    As they''d done every night, the predators went off to secure lairs or mates while the prey, fully satiated, retreated to their holes. Even the owls left. All but one.


    It was larger than the others. As large as a giant hatchling. But its feathers, and more, most of its flesh was missing. There were only bones that seemed more like the petrified wood surrounding us. And deep within the recesses of its eye, I saw something shimmering in its skull; sea-green in color and multi-faceted like a jewel.


    A jewel that spoke to me.


    "Hello." I gently stepped forward, reaching out and stopping shy of the creature''s range.


    Almost without hesitation, it stretched its bony wings to waddle forward and gnaw gently at my finger. "I suppose I don''t need the ritual after all." I giggled, finding its body to feel like bone rather than wood as I scratched its head, despite it seeming to be as hard as quartz.


    I received a soft hoot before the skeletal owl took off to perch a nearby branch and spin its head around to look beyond the trees to my right, where the amber lights of glow stones could be seen dancing through the forest. Just as quickly, those vacant eyes turned to the left, where the cliffside on the western edge met the treacherous terrain leading down to the forest. I had doubts it would keep whoever was watching me from following. But I felt it a better option than walking out of the blighted woods as if all was normal. The owl seemed to agree, yet had gone on its own path, given how I soon found myself alone, sidling along the cliffside to come upon a small perch overlooking the Feathered Grove.


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    "Time for a revolution," I whispered grimly, then began looking across the rocks to make a mental path until something dark swept past my eyes, tracing a line of fire around my throat. "W- ack!" I choked, thrashed, and felt the struggling of someone behind me; then began kicking and biting.


    "Struggle not, Reina! This will be over quickly!" A male voice growled in my ear, rolling his ''r''s'' in a way that made my heart plummet from this very cliff. My mind swooned as a hundred justifications, reasons, or excuses for this mistake, nightmare, or illusion were generated and subsequently denied, and my stomach churned. I wanted to cry. To collapse on the ground and weep. But my blood, boiling with rage, refused.


    I thrashed harder. Bit harder. Kicked harder. All to no avail. I was helpless against being dragged towards the cliff by my father''s seemingly infinite strength, as I nearly lost all of mine when I caught sight of my loving mother tying a rope around a tree.


    I had no more hurt left in me. Only hate and rage and anger and denial of everything I knew. Only... vengeance.


    "HOW COULD YOU!?" I thrashed enough to turn and thrust my knee into my father''s groin.


    He squealed in pain, filling my mind with fantasies about him losing his ability to make children before his body jerked and everything became dazed.


    The Mortal Plane seemed to spin as my consciousness slipped. All I could feel was something cold and solid beneath me and some warm and squishy thing atop me, so I clawed, feeling a slight resistance before something warm trickled down my hand, leaking an acrid scent into my nose that snapped me awake with a rush of excited claws and scratches.


    "Agh! My eye!" The world opened to reveal my father''s figure jerking back to cover his eye while giving me a glare reserved for hags. I scrambled to my feet, confused until I saw the red-black sheen on his hand reflected under the pale gaze of the Silver Eye. Then I remembered the talon I was given as my father screamed. "HOW DARE YOU!?"


    I began to charge, only for something to tackle me from behind and restrain my arm. Then my father stomped forward, taking me from my mother to restrain my arm and pull. I could not hope to fight him off, but I tried. I tried desperately to break him. To kick him over the cliff. To smash his balls, bite out his hair, and gnaw off his skin. But to no avail. One punch to the back of the head and my senses grew distant. Another punch to the ribs and my strength faded.


    "Throw her over already!" I heard my mother''s chirping. "The devil-child can''t taint the rest of us!"


    "You''re more wicked than I could ever be!" I screamed, thrashing out again as my former father began to pull.


    He pulled harder, and I scrambled just as hard, feeling tugs of resistance cascade as I brought my talon across his arms and legs until a great weight fell on top of me, pinning me to the ground. Then¡­ it was gone. Replaced by a hand gripped around my neck and an arm wrapped around my waist before the ground merely¡­ disappeared.


    Time seemed to slow the moment I left the ground, giving me a final hard look at the faces of the man and woman who birthed me into this cruel reality. How despicable, they were, to stand there in relief while dozens of birds flocked to them and many more looked on from the canopy. As the Mortal Plane turned over to reveal its dark underbelly, I saw many more hateful faces further down the trail. The faces of druids I had known my entire life were already doing their best to ensure the hatchlings never learned of this dark day. Oblivious, they were to the dark shapes that would soon creep up to drag them into an eternity of wickedness. So enthralled in their ritualistic bloodshed, they were.


    I knew they would die today. It made me happy, knowing my call would bring their demise; knowing my scream would bring a wave of blight the Feathered Grove could not have conjured in their worst nightmares.


    Yet... that was hardly enough for me, knowing they would die. I wanted to be the one to kill those who banished me. I wanted to be the one to slaughter the so-called family who tossed me into the night with little remorse. Sadly, though, I knew it would not happen. I knew... the rope was at its end.


    That was hardly enough for me. Yet the rope pulled taught all the same. Thrown outward, I swung down into the cliffside all the same. The resounding crack of my crushing bones was heard all the same, signaling the everlasting wave of darkness to flow over me before the rope snapped; forcing out of me, a scream of abyssal dread before I fell to my death.

 322 - Brightest Night

    The Owl.


    ***


    At long last, the Owl heard the baleful wail that marked the coveted time echo across the forest. Thus the Owl screeched in kind, requesting a silent wave of crepuscular feathers to befall the Grove of ignoramuses, celebrating in ignorance behind their veil of bloodied wings.


    Those raptors of dusk and dawn snatched their prey from their nests with deadly accuracy, unnoticed in the night as they weaved through the trees to snare birds and humans alike, pinning them against rocks, branches, the ground, and their very nests to wait for the Owl to give the Dour Druid her reward.


    So similar, that reward was, to that of the Tech Goddess. Only, Reina was not to be blessed machine on her side, but the bounty of accursed Arbor and FleshTech- biology rule and genetic tailoring. Thus giving rise to the Mother of Flesh.


    And so, with the deed done, the Owl perched to intimidate and wait; for there were shadows to raise, and an Emperor of Umbra to crown.


    ***


    Reina Featherfall.


    ***


    A gust of wind pushed my eyes apart and soon, edged me to my feet, giving rise to the most grand of sights. I had forever been above. But never below. Never so far down from the Groves of Redagh that the silver rays of the Second Sun glanced across the clouds, casting long shadows that danced across the sleeping lands, broken apart only by the giant spires of darkness before and behind me, covered in bands of black and white like the legends of the ancient lion turtles.


    I must have sat there for an hour before a sudden realization pulled my attention to my immediate surroundings. I was on the ground, though the rope my¡­ father used to kill me was tied around my neck still, leaving a frayed end hanging down my back. And up above, so far it was out of sight, was where I fell from.


    I heard a strange creak as I stood up, almost like old wood. But I felt nothing. And so, I walked weirdly along the cliffside, feeling as if something was not quite right inside as I searched for a place to climb. Then, something caught hold of my arms and pulled me from the ground.


    I let out a scream of joy once I looked up and saw the petrified bones of a raptor. But my mirth was temporarily stolen when I was dropped at the foot of the cliff and came to witness the parliament standing about with druids clutched in their talons. Shock came to me. If only for a second before I looked down and felt it replaced by endless joy. "Dearest father!" I knelt beside his head, smiling brightly. "I assure you, this is only the beginning of your torment."


    I took my time in bringing my bone talon across his neck, savoring how the black keratin sank beneath his ear, enjoying each gurgle and gasp to befall his bloodied lips until there was no more to give. I stood over him then, watching the life leave his eyes before I walked away with a spit of disgust, hardly noticing the pool of darkness spreading beneath his corpse.


    I moved to the nearest druid after that, saw that they too were alive, and happily opened their throat. This time, however, I noticed a tendril of flesh remained attached to the ring when I lifted my hand. But I paid it no mind. I went from body to body. Man, woman, child, or elder, I showed them no mercy. I answered no questions. I listened to no pleas. I gave them no pity, just as they had given me. I noticed not the skeletal owl that carried me until I entered the Head Druid''s nest and made note of nothing more than the dense flesh and sleek feathers that had grown on him. Only his eyes were vacant still, and they gazed upon the Head Druid''s relics hungrily.


    Only after I slit her throat did I notice her corpse withering and decaying and falling into a pit of darkness as the tendril of flesh connected to my ring pulsed with a golden light, transferring her vital essence into the ring until a ray of sea-green energy shot out toward the owl, filling its vacant orbits with the comically grumpy eyes of a great horned owl. With a hoot, he lazily blinked and looked down at the sacred items gathered at its talons, then took flight toward me as I stepped to them. Only to drift past my ear and fall atop the Head Druid''s corpse.


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    Assuming he was eating, I took my new things and skipped through the Grove toward my final destination.


    Home.


    Unlike everyone else, no owl pinned her to the ground. She was pinned in place of her own volition; frozen in fear from The Owl towering two meters over her, staring its starry eyes into her soul.


    I offered my mother no words as I stepped past the Owl. I only grasped her by the face and squeezed and then squeezed harder once an addicting sensation began to ebb and flow between us. I felt myself bursting at the seams with energy while she grew more fragile, more sickly. More¡­ dense. Then I threw her from the nest and waited for the satisfying thud to ring true before I departed the grove once and for all, taking candles and torches to the nests along the way.


    The flames had consumed all by the time I reached the Feathered Grove''s borders. So warm, it was, that I found myself squatting and laughing as if I were at a campfire, being told a fantastical story from the dancing darkness around me. It swirled around the grove like flame dancers, turning the embers from orange to violet-blue; shifting the air from blistering hot to a menacing cold; darkening the white smoke to inky darkness that condensed around the items I claimed from the Head Druid.


    Soon after, my laughing turned to chanting and the umbral smoke''s fervor grew tenfold before pouring into my new things, corrupting them inside and out.


    Smothered in a gilded hide and black, gold-limned feathers was now her Cowl of Aves Rex. Corrupted into a crystal-hilted wand, was her Staff of Aves Rex. Haunted with arcane jewels of holy wickedness, was the fabled Featherfall Bow. I felt complete as the cowl tightened around my frame, making me one with all the birds that had once forsaken me. I felt strengthened as I fitted the bow over my body, knowing I could control my arrows like a bird in mid-flight. I knew purpose when I grasped that staff in my hands, knowing my grasp over nature and the druidic arts would be amplified by its primal magic.


    That purpose manifested as a wave of darkness that gushed from the staff. It swept across the violet flames like a tidal wave, smothering them instantly; dispersing the clouds of umbral smoke instantly, revealing to my eyes, an expansion of the blighted woods that crept to the edge of the late Feathered Grove. It looked neither like it did during those special times of dusk and dawn, nor any other time, however. The trees were alive with fleshy warts and pestilential cysts that burst from the tendrils growing within. Like parasitic roots or like my ring, those tendrils wound their way to the corpses, scattered, bone, and rent flesh of my dead grove, withering and rotting their origins with each step gained for the sake of spawning fleshy growths of wood and stone and crystallized blood at their destinations.


    First randomly, then in pairs, the trees fell to more and more fleshy seed crystals until every trace of bodies, birds, or the grove itself had been replaced with the strange sight. Then they began to signal one another. First one. Then three. Then twelve. The veiny vines growing along the crystals glowed a bright yellow before they began absorbing the red gems around them, shrinking them down to a slime of yellow veins that began cascading towards the staff, now reduced to an eldritch wand; collapsing first into a blood-red crystal at the base before the wood displaced downward, elongating into a staff of crystallized flesh and petrified wood.


    When I took hold of that staff, I knew of consequences; for what remained of the once vibrant forest was not even blighted. Only an arid expanse of dusty hills stood before me, howling its lamentations to the empty winds. Wailing in defiance of its destiny like I had. Like I experienced, though, those wails did not last long. Something heard them and responded with a breath of life from above. Into rocks, the dirt, and the air itself, the breath flowed, sprouting streams and spreading fields of silvery-blue moss or grass or flowers or trees across those lands once barren.


    It was suddenly so peaceful, if not bright. But I wanted to stay all the same. Only¡­ I could not. The Feathered Grove of Redagh was no more, thus there was no reason for me to stay. And¡­ something was telling me to cross the ravine. And so, with a creak of my neck, I began making my way up the mountain, paying little mind to the cold somethings crawling around at my feet. I only smiled at the giant great horned owl spreading its wings in preparation for a long flight and tapped my chin in contemplation before climbing onto his back.


    "I suppose I''ll call you Percival." I giggled. "Happy Fledging."

 323 - The Darkfire Hold

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    24th of Trescia, 1492.


    Redagh, Blighted Woods. 165 km NW of the Feathered Forest, 80 km E of the Ligin Border.


    07:42.


    ***


    It was strange. For all but Amun and Iris, sleep was an optional endeavor; although, Iris did not exactly sleep and Amun would receive the same ability in time. Regardless, Sorcerers and Warlocks, he made us all. It was through that pact- that deal to join the Elven Devil''s Troupe, that bestowed us with such a blessed curse.


    On one blade, it freed us of mundane schedules. No longer did we have to devote a standard time for rest. Work, or play, could be pursued the moment it was decided upon and for however long we desired. We could travel anywhere, and with no need to stress about rations or routes or possible threats that encompassed having to rest. On the other blade, it made our lives a timeless blur. The days blended seamlessly. Always on the move, we were. Always planning. Always acting. Always pursuing the desires of our hearts despite many of those desires being birthed from Amun.


    Never in all of my years, had I heard of such a being. Much less a God. A being so willing to share his bounty freely. A being of cold logic coupled with a kind of orderly chaos any drow could appreciate. Never did I begin our morning training knowing what the day would hold. But always, I knew no matter how mundane, minute or mad things seemed, everything was a piece of Amun''s realms-spanning game. It was also during these times, however, that we found order.


    Regularly, our days were six hours longer than the rest of the Mortal Plane''s. Every day, we entered the temporal chambers to conduct three hours of physical and combat training at dawn followed by three hours of learning, practice, and study at dusk. Each was followed by a shared meal that, while I remained uncomfortable about it, was starting to grow on me. Either from the company or Sam''s cooking, I had yet to tell. But I digress.


    From our blessings paired with our timeless natures, every being in the Cuttleship has risen by leaps and bounds in all aspects. No longer did they appear like the disheveled beings seen everywhere else in the Bodhi Peninsula. Haircuts and other cosmetic operations overseen by Blude had them appearing as the royals their enhanced vernacular implied them to be. By the hand of my Astrosages, everyone managed to become adept at maintaining proper stances and striking properly and have gone on to pick and choose their favored weapons. The primary members of the Troupe have absorbed as much information about the divine industries, politics, and militaries of his past life. At the same time, Amun himself, of course, saw hastened progress towards Death''s Door. In doing so, I caught insight as to how he found enlightenment. A combination of many things, he claimed. Therapy. Illusory simulations paired with ''Frame Jacking.'' Drugs. Sacred Geometry. And teachings from an ancient warrior monk culture in some fantastical land called Saturnia. But it was the second to last part that gave him the final key to enlightenment in this life.


    What we called Arcane Glyphs, or Magic Sigils, he called Sacred Geometry. And knowing not just their designs, but deeply understanding their meaning was what allowed him to push past the step of enlightenment. So too did that come into play in the heart of Vruria. Without my instruction, he carved the Glyph of Power- what he called the Tree of Life- into the stone and meditated¡ªfocused on drawing the ambient ki into this glyph to be stockpiled and released into his spirit in a single, large, burst that shocked his Ki Pond open.


    With that accomplishment came little reason to teach Amun the monastic abilities he awakened at the 10th Step. Walking along ceilings and maneuvering himself in midair was either a pastime or a short order. and the VoidNet shared all the details of the mutation to his perk. Being immune to poisons and toxins, the Pure Body perk was corrupted into [Impure Body.] An ability that would turn his skin toxic and his blood pestilent upon the release of his necrotic ki.


    I gave him his first set of meditation beads and he placed them around his wrists immediately, but his mind focused more on the improvements to his agility and dexterity. Thus days more, we spent in that temporal domain, training and meditating throughout the ever-present dawn until I was sure his second Ki Pond was to open. But instead, we left. Into the Cuttleship we went and out we flew to train and wind down before we landed in Redagh shortly after dawn.


    What we faced was not the giant forest of elves I read of. Not in the immediate vicinity, at least. Here, not even snow fell. The ground was a field of dust and dirt, broken apart only by the obligatory outcropping of stone. A place of death and decay that upturned even my nose.


    But of course, Amun felt at home.


    "I hear there''s a hag close to here." He quipped as he turned to face us, smiling with some mad idea.


    I offered him the most incredulous gaze I could muster. "Is... that why we are here?"


    "No." He laughed, pointing towards some ambiguous gloom. "An associate of mine found a dungeon. Like the last one he found, there are traces of my family''s sorcery there."


    My brows rose expectantly, then more in surprise once several people stepped out of the gloom. They all had dark crimson eyes and hair as white as snow, with the finest silks I had seen in weeks; but trailing after them was a particularly charming brute of a man with the same prominent fangs and crimson eyes that glowed, even in darkness. Yet... there was something else inside him, almost like a... weapon.


    Or many.


    "A true Vampyre Lord." I wowed. "The first I have seen."


    "I''m honored." The Vampyre bowed just as the VoidNet pinged him as a comrade. "Elijah of the Blackblood."


    "First a monster lair, now a dungeon?" Amun snickered after the introductions were made. "You''re on a roll. Not to mention, you''re growing." He peeked at those gathered behind the Vampyre and snickered at their wowed visages.


    A firm pat on the back punctuated his words. A simple gesture that forced the Vampyre forward a step. But he only laughed proudly. "Oh, how strong we''ve gotten!" He laughed teasingly before his face uncannily became sullen. "And, yes. However, there are creatures inside I''m unable to touch. Perhaps knowing this, they won''t allow me to get near. It is¡­" he sighed. "Vexing."


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    ''A Vampyre caring about wild animals?'' I wondered, eyeing him incredulously, but Amun paid the absurdities no mind. He only stepped down the path to come upon the steps of some underground relic of carved stones concealed by a wall of vines.


    Inside and beyond the antechamber was an unimpressive room floored with dust and ash. To our right were disheveled cases filled only with cobwebs and dead insects staring across the room to a charred desk or altar. Like the rest of us, Iris paid them little mind. But unlike the rest of us, she rushed through the door on the adjacent wall. Within was an altar set before a statue of bleached stone, depicting some headless and mostly spineless beast sitting on its hind legs. Only a necklace remained. Wide and jeweled, with dull grayish-purple stones that pulsed as the door opened.


    With a rush of strange energy, four candles flared at the altar''s base, lighting the room with a purplish-gray glow that put the few humanoids accompanying the Vampyre spiraling into a slumber. Like me, Amun ignored the shifting stone behind us, allowing Geri and Freki to dart through the passage instead while we scrutinized the statue for all it was worth; only moving when Iris returned with a jeweled ring for him to Appraise and Identify.


    "A normal ring." Amun chuckled before handing it over to Elijah. "Keep it in case you need it later. I have a feeling these dungeons are connected in some way."


    "As do I." Elijah stowed the ring with a nod, then looked down to his snoring subordinates. "Should I wake them? The door will close if I do."


    "Go ahead." Amun turned calmly, walking up to the door just as the snoring ceased and the stone slammed shut. Only for it to open once more by the influence of a swift kick.


    With a command of gravitational mana, the dust collapsed to the floor in the blink of an eye, compressing it into a sheet of sandstone and pebbles to reveal a three-way junction.


    "This was as far as I was allowed," Elijah said, just before a channel opened up on the Net, allowing Freki''s voice to echo in my mind.


    {"I sense something familiar over here, to your left."} He clarified. {"But I can''t see anything."}


    "Familiar¡­" Amun echoed, continuing straight while a squad of undead stepped from the shadows to shuffle down the corridor to the right, following Iris to who knew where.


    Following Amun, however, we followed a strangely familiar sensation and came upon a bed of broken wood and stone mixed with a bounty of loot in the midst of being tainted by Geri''s fur. She seemed to be bathing in it greedily. Completely unaware of the incorporeal wolves tilting their heads at her or leaping up to Amun, only to pass through him.


    "Ah, I see." I snorted. "They are Astral wolves. Creatures of your domain, born in the Astral Plane. I am surprised to learn Freki cannot see them, however."


    Amun and Iris snorted at my quip. Then proceeded to fully laugh when Freki came into the chamber with a disgruntled growl. "I can see them." He barked and looked into the eyes of the nearest specter to prove his point. "They were hiding in the walls, is all. And she''s too greedy to care."


    Geri didn''t see his snout sway towards her but she made sure to growl in response. Then she growled again once Amun lifted her aside to begin picking through the pile of mostly junk and equipment from long-dead adventurers.


    "I have begun to wonder," I said, picking up some small talk. "Wolves and creatures of the sea are bonded with the World Weaver, you. Owls, Felines, and¡­ shadow dragons are bonded with your doppelganger, the Owl. Moonlight and Twilight."


    "Yes." He nodded, tossing a tome into a pile at his feet after reading through it in seconds.


    "And those creatures you spoke to in Shujen. Termites. Ants. Wasps. Bees. Beavers. And¡­ spiders. They are of the ArcaTech. But... well, what of mana?"


    His hand hovered over a broken sword. "That''s a good question." He shrugged, then snorted. "Drow? Faeries, perhaps?"


    "That is not-" An explosion of crumbling stone forced the words back into my mouth. If only for an instant. "Funny."


    Amun jumped from his seat before the final word left my lips, though. In his place, Lana happily sorted through the loot, uncaring of Geri and her plight two rooms away. When I arrived at where she had wandered off to, she was still on her back, in human form, clutching a small effigy in her hand.


    "There was a sculpture of some dude here. He looked kinda like you. Half-elvish. He was holding a weird pipe in his hand. It was smoking, but not with anything I''ve smelled before."


    "So you tried to grab it and it exploded?" Amun snorted.


    "You like to smoke." Geri shrugged innocently.


    "Well, it''s the thought that counts." He smiled. "What''s done is done, and we can still see it on the Net; not to mention, bring it back. More importantly, though, it looks like you got something out of it."


    After blinking twice, her bright blue eyes fell to her hand and widened before she turned it over in her hands, smelling it, and even licking it before handing it over so Amun could smother it with mana, in turn activating his Grandmaster Artificing perks.


    "The Effigy of Ari-Zmon. Formerly sealed within the statue. Now, here." He declared, waving the object in his hand as if it were a mere stick.


    "T- that is said to be a primeval being. From the time of Zef- your first ancestors." I stammered excitedly. "A long dead one! Its corpse is said to drift within the Astral Plane."


    "Why?" Amun asked.


    "That is where the corpses of beings powerful enough to serve the Gods are, for lack of a better word, buried."


    "Huh." Amun rocked back, nodding. Then carelessly tossed the effigy to me. "What does this look like to you, Archivist?"


    I hesitated, knowing how he felt about browls. But with a great sigh, I began nonetheless. "The legends tell of a type of¡­ griffon-like creature. Born with the head of an owl and the body of a panther or black lion."


    As expected, his lips curled up in disgust while his head recoiled and shook in horror. And yet, he gently took the effigy from my hand and brought up its face for all to see. "Then why does it look like a Sphinx? In fact, it looks like your stan- true self as well. What do you think?"


    "Perhaps it is a Sphinx." I licked my lips, suddenly eager to go to the Astral Plane. But such a thing was dangerous here. I wanted to leave immediately and found myself excited as we began moving toward the exit with the spectral wolves in tow. "It would make sense. They are born of Nonus but seek to serve Gods, and many Gods readily make homes for Sphinxes in their divine realms. Some are even said to have created some. They serve by safeguarding their deities'' treasures and secrets. They are said to be immortal, however. But then again, Gods are said to be immortal, yet Gods have been killed before. So it is safe to presume a sphinx could die and be set adrift in the Astral Plane as well."


    "Perhaps it is." Amun tossed his head. "Perhaps. But the idea of having a sphinx is interesting regardless. Tell me more about them on the way. And, as for you, Elijah." He turned at the last step to pat the Vampyre Lord on the shoulder. Gently this time. "Your efforts in building that tunnel have seen you gain a domain of civilians with your own culture, a vampiric industry, and many new riders for the Exalted Gloom. That warrants a promotion.


    "Congratulations, Elijah of the Blackblood. Imperator of the 11th Legion."


    "Thank you, Amun." Elijah solemnly bowed. And though there were no bounties to befall our eyes, I knew there were many boons and rewards just received by the young Vampyre before another flourishing bow saw him dismissed and retreating towards the gloom.


    Rather than enter it, however, a mob of drakes, blacker than night, crept from the shade to lie down and allow the Vampyre and his minions to mount their saddles. And with a final wave, they took flight. Worse, no one seemed to notice. Geri and Freki were leading their spectral wolves into the Cuttleship while the others had long since been inside. Leaving me with Amun, watching him casually throw his field of obstacles into the sky. "Were those¡­ shadow drakes?"


    "Yeah." Came Amun''s distant voice. "Now let''s go. Our next stop is some three thousand kilometers away."

 324 - Arcane Exploits

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    24th of Trescia, 1492.


    Kasian Empire, Flate Wildlands. Joim Rift. 327 km east of the Rhar-Kasia-Chaulort Tri-Point.


    04:11.


    ***


    Day by day, hour by hour, the Bodhi Peninsula felt smaller and smaller. In what would have taken the natives tendays, we traveled in a mere 4 hours, departing Redagh to race across the snowy plains of the Kasian Empire¡ªa vast land, in and of itself, and a sparsely populated one.


    Kasia was the land of fighters; like all aged fighters, she was heavily scarred. A millennium of war saw the land tainted, corroded, and poisoned. Vast city-states that once dominated the country stood as ruins slowly being reclaimed by time. That was not to say the cities were small and rundown, however. On the contrary, the settlements we saw scattered between the eastern coast and the Rharian borders to the north were vast, heavily fortified city-states placed hundreds of kilometers apart. When we were in the heart of the nation-state of Pas, however, we turned due south and bore witness to thousands and thousands of kilometers of torn land. Unclaimed by anyone civil, that was to say, for the land was dominated by countless goblin hordes, orcish war camps, roving barbarians, and the occasional dwarven caravan, all locked in a perpetual state of conquest and war.


    Even when none could be seen, traces of their presence lingered. Vultures and carrion feeders flocked throughout the skies like spinning clouds of darkness, eyeing a dozen separate battles while their feasts ripened to their tastes. Swathes of land were seen charred, the ice mixed into a dull gray from the tons of ash that rained when the snow refused to fall. Fumes and smoke born from all things that should not be burned rolled across the land like a living domain, carrying the stench of goblins that forced even the trees to wither in defeat.


    War could be seen everywhere we went. Except one place, it seemed. Here, midway up some nameless mountain, centered between a hot spring to the north and a rift of goblin fumes to the south was an unbroken plane of snow. Being over 100 kilometers in diameter, it served as a beacon from the skies, pulling Amun and the rest of us down to the powdered surface to land and fall below the powdery snow.


    Down and down the Troupe fell, laughing and joking and ridiculing or at the very least conversing with one another until we met bedrock after a five-plus kilometers descent and looked upon the wall of white that consumed us. A wall that was rent asunder by the actions of four.


    Geri swept her claws towards the east, forming a cavern of ice and snow that seemed limitless. Blude thrust her palm towards the south, ejecting a conical wave that condensed the snow into an army of watery bubbles. Redd stomped towards the west, demanding her magic to chase after the white clouds and push them to the surface. Sam simply inhaled, and out of her mouth came a jet of steam that condensed almost instantly, spraying a fine mist into the air that soon froze into a thin film of ice. And thus it was revealed, a crater some 600 kilometers in diameter. Therein we got our first taste of Amun''s wickedness.


    Beneath a crater-wide domain of displaced time, he told us of those he cursed in Chaulort. He told us of those who came after him at the beginning of the year, those who refused to become undead, using the power of their God to self-destruct instead. He told us of his principles. To never seek revenge. But to always respond in kind. Thus he told us of his ''often evil alter ego.'' His Doppelganger, Numa; the Owl, responsible for making a deal with a witch to perform live experimentation of sentient beings; all to create his biomechanical technology- his implants and augmentations.


    The being responsible for this crater being blasted onto the face of Kasia.


    Whether we or our clones were good or evil was up to us, he ensured telling us. As did he make sure to tell us that our actions would have consequences; not from him, in most cases, but transgressions or even wars declared against us because our consequences would be dealt with by us and not his Legions. He ensured to tell us we could treat our subordinates and citizens any way we pleased. We could rule with an iron fist or be benevolent leaders, so long as those in our domains were there by choice. He then passed on the final lesson by telling us what came after this crater was blasted into creation; of how he, the World Weaver, saved the hot spring up the mountain from an early demise and how the Owl prevented the land from becoming a tainted land of death. It came in the shape of¡­ tasks, that lesson.


    Mine happened to be the first. A simple task, in practice. If not a daunting one in scale. My task was to grow accustomed to my blessings by manipulating space and gravity to shape the crater as I saw fit. To create mounds and mountains and valleys and trenches on a whim. When I finished, the child of metal and machine went with the charred wolf, implanting machines and burning roots into seemingly random areas before those four of water, steam, ice, and winter fulfilled their task by casting and casting some more. And when all that remained was similar to what we saw before, an unbroken sheet of steaming water sealing the crater away, Amun turned to us with a cheeky smile.


    "Always clean up after yourselves."


    With that simple message, the Troupe went about their business for the next several days of perpetual noon. For some, that included raiding nearby camps or strongholds to recruit more subordinates through the act of liberation. Or undead through countless battles. That indeed included me. For I had a suspicion that required me to add a young goblin, hobgoblin, bearbug, and an ogre to my ranks. As did Sam and Redd, with the former taking a half-orc slave from a human camp and hiring her as a butcher, and the latter recruiting a human and a young dwarf; both recently orphaned and on their own. As for Amun, however. He took to meditating the moment the Troupe dispersed. Accompanied only by my Astrosage, who looked over his intense focus for days on end. Watching the ethereal blue fire stockpile within bead after meditation bead, leaving behind scorched glyphs that glowed with more power than the last.


    The end of the 13th day inside the domain- the 13th hour outside- was when the 13th bead glowed. In an instant, the energy contained in the set flowed into Amun''s system to merge with his existing ki, forcing the circuits to expand until the pressure had nowhere to go but the second Ki Pond, forcing it open.


    What was an ethereal shroud of blue fire before was now a throbbing veil of blue that hugged Amun''s body tightly. An impressive and often foreboding sight to any who saw it. But those of our profession knew such a sight signaled only the beginning. And the rewards that came with it were¡­ paltry.


    At least for our kind.


    <<"You must be disappointed.">> I landed next to him with a harsh laugh. <<Levitation is nothing special, after all. But the negation to fall damage is a nice boon regardless. Not to mention, the overall increase in the strength of your Ki.">>


    He only rolled his head in response. Then, with the least amount of focus and no ki at all, he detached himself from the ground and began levitating in place. Frowning from his inability to move while his brows remained high in pleasant surprise.


    <<"That is not ki. Nor is it magic you are using. You are using the natural power of our species.>> I told him, mimicking the action by drawing on the strength of my blood. <<"All drow with so-called royal blood have innate powers of levitation. And more.">> Rather than explain, I snapped, pointing at Amun to limn his body in fluorescent gray-violet flames that flickered harmlessly against his skin. <<"Such as Faerie Flames.">>


    I hardly got the words out when he snapped in kind, lining my body in bright blue-green flames before he childishly beamed. <<"What else can we do?">>


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    <<"Nothing you already cannot.">> I snickered with a gesture toward my shadow.


    He either caught the drift or did not care to. Instead, he looked around the endless plains and smiled at a gathering of torches and steel in the extended distance.


    <<"Speaking of. I suppose this is a good time to experiment with arcane casting. I''ve done it once before. Blew off my great-grandfather''s arm.">> He chortled, shaking his head in nostalgia. <<"Then he raged. I think.">>


    <<"Uh¡­ yes.">> I muttered, lost as to what to say for only a moment. <<"I am versed in wizardry. But in truth, that is my brother''s expertise.">>


    <<"Your brother?">>


    <<"Eban Za''Darmondiel, the Second Son.">> I nodded. To which, Amun gave me a strange look, almost like he¡­ remembered. <<"He is both the Arch Wizard and Heart Keeper- head witch- of the House. Much to his chagrin, however, he is only recognized as the latter.>>


    <<"I see. And what were you?">>


    <<"House Abbot, and Head Monk of Nydorden Halls.">> I huffed. <<"Yet the Champion''s Teacher as well. I assumed I would become the War Master like my father once my task was complete. Or, more likely, I would be sacrificed for knowing too much as a male.">>


    <<"Instead, you are here.">> Amun said in somewhat of a rough tone. One I couldn''t quite place. <<"I can''t imagine Etyl is too happy about that.">>


    <<"As you would say, fuck that bitch.">>


    Amun took off into the night with a roaring laughter and I followed in kind, screeching through the skies while I conjured every memory of arcane wizardry I''d ever learned. Though I suspected he knew at least half of it already. Thus I surmised it as simply as I could have. <<"The limits of arcane spellcasting are dependent on the wizard''s knowledge of nature. To make mana behave like fire, they must know the nature of fire and how it behaves. But they must also know that the spell is, at heart, mana, not fire mana, and thus will never become fire. It will not spread if you loosen your focus, for example.">>


    He took the cryptic knowledge in stride, nodding subtly before turning his fiendish eyes to his playground below, where a company of dwarves faced off against a mob of orcs, unknowing of the goblin horde rolling over the hill, eager to scavenge the remains from both sides.


    I could only grin ear-to-ear at the sight. <<"This should be interesting. I shall watch from here and judge you as you go.">>


    A Satellite trailed him across the skies as he went, giving me a firsthand view of Amun hovering above the goblin horde with a wicked smile. The goblins, emboldened by their numbers, charged, shot, and cast the moment they noticed the lone drow; now floating only meters before them.


    Then proceeded the slaughter.


    He drifted lazily through the skies, easily dodging quarrels and rocks while he cast spells at seemingly random groups. Mana was used to vibrate the air itself until it was heated enough to combust clothes and give an amber glow to any weapons in the area. Others were drowned and swept away beneath a wave of arcane water. Others were squished flat from mana hands or thrown into the distance. Mana was compressed into javelins and thrown or compressed into bombs or projected into concentrated blasts akin to ki beams. Whatever whims came upon him, it seemed, the mana obliged completely.


    Not a surprise, coming from the God of Mana.


    For a time, the sight stunned the orcs and dwarves into a stalemate. But only for a time. Several broke ranks to kill off the few hundred goblins in full retreat and many more spun to turn their blades on Amun. Then, it became my turn to be stunned when Amun held his palms up to both sides and shouted in the Dwarvish tongue, "While seared by the Fire Mountain''s Heat, I say I am not your enemy!" Then the Orcish tongue, "Hold!" Ki translated the words for my ears just as the words danced across my eyes as he barked, stunning me and the dwarves, but not the orcs.


    They were unlike the orcs slaves seen in Zimysta Falls. Even our high-orcs were much smaller than the one leading the pack. He was taller than Freki''s 2 meters, with arms and legs like tree branches connected to a thick trunk of muscle. A headdress of finger bones and fur adorned the head of their chieftain or whatever the orcs called themselves, and his belt bore the skulls of at least four different creatures while an axe head as wide as his shoulder blades remained strapped to his back, heaving with each breath.


    He stomped towards Amun, stopping a meter before him with his fists held low. Then leaned forward to crease his leathery red skin into a strange smile. "I''ve met your kind, Nox Legionary," he growled. "Rain Men and Amazonian Marines, Soldiers, and Warriors. Great fighters, they are. Real fighters. Bluszil approves."


    Amun grinned wider and spread his arms to reveal the ancient arboreal mark etched onto his clothes. "I appreciate your words. I am their Supreme Chieftain- Grandmaster of the Legio Noctis, Amun of the Nox."


    Focusing on the happening, I melded into the darkness and crept closer, gaining multiple angles of the chieftain looking Amun over a final time and calling his mob to retreat before he turned back to him with a curious nod. "Well met, Amun of the Nox. Welcome to Bluszil''s Land. Boss''ll be pleased to hear we''ve met. It''s been a while since we''ve had a real challenge."


    "Now there''s an idea." Amun snickered. "I have some prior obligations but I can be by in a few months or so. We''ll arrange something fun- something to be remembered for the ages. In Rhar."


    With that, the brute departed with his men, roaring with laughter the entire time. Wasting no time, Amun spun back on the dwarves. Specifically, to face the one with his foot pressed against an unconscious goblin''s back, attempting to withdraw his axe from its nearly severed spine.


    With a flick of his finger, the goblin was taken by a mass of umbral tendrils and subsequently rose from a puddle of darkness at Amun''s feet.


    "DIE, DARK ELF!"


    The scream battered against the night. Yet the rumble of a dozen charging dwarves growled louder and louder once they met Amun''s spatial domain spell and heard him laughing at their vain attempts to run across an infinite expanse.


    "Damned dark elves and yer magic! Face me, coward!" The dwarf bellowed, banging his hammer against his shield as if to taunt Amun.


    "How feral." Amun laughed, then paused to light a burnbud cigar. "Tell me, do you just¡­ attack every dark elf you see?"


    "We know what yer kind does! Slavers!" He seethed, echoed by a cacophony of similar statements.


    "Jeez¡­" Amun scoffed, shaking his head. "In my eyes, that makes you as evil as you think I am. At least," he pressed through the uproar. "I only kill those who attack me unprovoked. And there are many- far too many of those types. They''re starting to give me a bad name." He leaned back with an exasperated groan. "The way it''s looking, I''m going to have to go out and do some good if I want any recruits.


    "Again." He groaned once more.


    "Do some good." A random dwarf spat. "You spider-demon lovin'' scum could never do good."


    I could not help myself. I stepped out of the gloom, approaching the dwarf calmly but with a menacing sneer that set dozens of them on edge. "Look into my eyes, dwarf. Tell me what color they are." He grunted and turned away. But I met his gaze once more and growled. "Tell me."


    "Gold." He muttered.


    "Not red." I leaned back, spreading my arms and spinning for all to see. "That means I am free of demonic spiders."


    "And what o'' ye?" he waved his axe towards Amun''s amiable smile.


    "Oh, I have a little devil in me."


    "A devil, doin'' good. Well color me impressed!"


    "If ye want to do good, then kill all them goblin scum!" one of them shouted.


    "I refuse to commit mindless genocide." Amun snorted. "So instead, I''ll make everyone understand what awaits those who blindly attack me."


    "Doesn''t commit genocide, says the Nox-devil." One of them spat.


    "Half-devil." Amun laughed again as his magic was replaced with sheer wickedness.


    He began to shrink as it consumed him, spreading from the markings on his chest to form some sort of umbral robe, adorned with the great tree of darkness standing before a setting sun of silver. he wicked darkness reached down his back and up his neck to take the shape of a stiff collar and twin coattails. Then fell to replace his trousers with the same solid darkness that became his clawed hands and feet.


    "The Elven Devil." The Void Imp grimly hissed in that gratingly fast tone. "And above all, I am a devil of my word. So believe me when I say, my fight is not with you, dwarves. But if you wish to attack me, those of you that survive will see you and your kin cursed ad infinitum."


    As if to prove his point, Amun lifted his hand, bringing the dead and those attempting to cling to life to float overhead in rank and file. When the haunting words of Amun''s abyssal tongue spread through the darkness, a wave of corruptive wickedness followed, seeping into the dying goblins, orcs, and dwarves to imbue them with horns and tails and energies of ice and fire before they were sent away in a flash of silver light.


    "There is no mercy for those who seek to harm me and mine," Amun said, giving each dwarf in the vicinity an amiable smile. "Only a violent death. And for the Nox, death is not the end. Death is simply¡­ a door; one we can step through with ease. So, go on, dwarves. Let us go our separate ways. And should you truly wish to free your people of these so-called goblin scum, do it your-fucking-selves. Become the monsters you so hate.


    "But," he smiled in a completely different way, "should you wish to verify my claim of not being your enemy. Or should you wish to become paragons of yourselves in ways that would please the Forge Mother, the Fire Mountain, and the All-Smithy, I would advise you to seek out one Geingurr Redstone of Deerchstal. Or, better yet, my good friend Elsgril Silverforge."


    "Silver¡­" the dwarf muttered, and after Amun pointed to a distant rock floating above the mountains to the north, they gathered for a lengthy deliberation before backpedaling into the distance, never facing their backs to us until they vanished from sight.

 325 - Leary, the Faithful.

    Leary.


    ***


    It was so cold, that land of white. It felt like ages. So long, we were there. Marching. Hiding. Waiting for the tusked ones and the fur-throats to stop their brawl so we could scour and feast. Oh, it was torture!


    The great rift called back to me the moment I left, giving me a piece of it even though I forsook it so. I could remember the warmth of the horde tickling my skin. The smell of simmering meat wafting from below and how it mixed with warg shit and ogre ass drifting from above. The gasps and sighs of relief and the wonderful auras coming from Booyagh''s tent. The constant thrum from the hobbies and the gobbies running around. Always screaming. Always tussling. Oh, how I wished I was there, that day! But I never got what I wanted. I was always made to scoop and shovel. To prick and poke. To make bleed and then go out into the snow with the scouts and the fighters.


    Oh, it was torture! The howling wind stole the warmth of the horde, carrying rot and char into the innards of our snouts to turn them up in disgust with force. Booyagh waddled far in the back, chanting and muttering to fix up the boys who went too far. Worse, no ogres or hobbies were here to drum forward our march or rip ass to spread heat. Only a band of gobbies and bear-buggies kneeling in the snow. Shivering. Waiting.


    "Oi! Leary''s bout ta pizz ''imself."


    "N- no." I shuddered. "I ain''t scared o'' no fur-throat."


    "Oi. Ya shud be." Ratter, the most seasoned of the gobbies around, looked concerned. "The fur-throats can spit fire, they can!"


    "N- no! They can''t!" my hears drooped as I gasped in horror


    "Oi ya" Ratter plopped next to me, sighing in memory. "S''why they got the fur ''round their throats." He waved a hand around his maw. "S''they can breathe through the smoke an'' allat."


    Ratter''s maddened laughter overshadowed any horrified squeals to come from my lips. Emboldened by the Most Seasoned, the horn echoed his call, responded by an ever-louder roar by the Most Seasoned as he unsheathed his twin scimitars, Tat and Tat, and charged with a bellowing howl that swept across the masses.


    I was certain of being the only one to not respond to the call with a roar of my own. I was certain of being the only one pushed along by the stampede of rallied goblins. I was certain of being the first one to scream out in horror, shouting to the heavens seconds before the ground began to hiss angrily. Ratter howled as usual. But something pulled my eyes to him just as the air grew orange and began to ripple. The hiss grew louder and soon, a blanket of flames engulfed him, burning hot enough to make Tat and Tat meld and mold into glowing blobs around his hands.


    I couldn''t take it.


    "Fur-throats! They''re breathing fire! They got Ratter! Ratter''s down!" I ran to the left, halting once I saw the air turn to bubbles and choke my fellow gobbies to death. "H- hummies!" I turned and saw invisible spears skewer a tribe of goblins to the ground. "Elves!" I turned¡­


    "RAAH!" a statue of metal and fur shook the air as it bellowed and charged, thumping against the ground like a warg of wargs before it crashed into me like a wall.


    "Fur-thro- ACK!"


    A dull pain in my lower back was all I knew before the world went dark. Sharp. But lasting for only an instant. Voices, foreign and elegant stirred me awake. But my mind remained muddled and so, I barely heard them. I thought I was dreaming. That I died. But no pain came from my wound and no feeling whatsoever came from my back. But I could roll to allow my back to meet the cold snow. I could open my eyes. And when I did, I could feel...


    I could feel the rapid pacing of my heart and the cold dread in my mind. I could feel fear. Only fear, for towering above me were two dark elves. Brothers, it seemed, despite the wildly differing visages. One, with gold eyes and gray-purple skin, had all the fine features of the fearsome elves. As did the other. But his nose was bulbous and his eyes¡­ his eyes were something of nightmares.


    "PLEASE!" I scrambled. "DON''T KILL ME, S- SIR ELF- SIR DARK ELVES! PLEASE! I''M JUST A CHI-" I stopped, suddenly remembering the screams and the fires and the fur-throats as I looked around, only to see barren fields. "-AN ORPHAN! I''M JUST AN ORPHAN RUNT, PLEASE!"


    Goldy looked disgusted. But the fiendish one smiled, giving me hope.


    "Please!" I dropped to my knees. "I- I just wanted to stay in the great rift. Cooking and cleaning. But they made me torture. They found a guy. Clock! They called him Clock! He kept dying and coming back so they tortured him. They made us torture him. I- I didn''t want to do it! Kill! They said! You have to know how to kill! Then they brought me out here. I- it''s my first battle. I haven''t done anything. I didn''t want to do it. I-"


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    "What''s your name?" the drow-fiend asked, lighting a fire of hope within me.


    "Leary!" I gasped, for an Owl of metal legs and glimmering eyes perched on the fiend''s shoulder- a bad omen.


    "Please!" I collapsed, clasping my arms. "I''ll do anything to live! Whatever you want! I- I''ll be your slave! Your servant! Forever and ever! I''ll cook! And clean! I''ll even steal! I- I... I''ll kill! I''ll do it! Whatever you say! Just¡­ I don''t want to die! I wish to live!"


    Even I knew the dark elves loved to keep slaves. Even I knew they would rather pull me into the darkness than kill me. But what I didn''t know, was that this was no ordinary drow.


    I felt the world sink beneath me as he leaned forward, curling his lips into a smile filled with teeth sharper than any goblins could hope to be. And out of that devilish maw poured a disturbingly long and thin tongue that licked against the shadows beneath his chin in the most wicked way imaginable.


    "Beware what you wish for, Leary."


    Those words banged against my soul like a war drum. Forming cracks and crevasses for the wicked darkness to write its way in and consume me wholly.


    I fell.


    For what felt like an unending lifetime, I fell into myself. I plummeted, chased by¡­ something, as I tumbled and rolled against the nothingness, suffering its taunting laughs until I landed at the bottom of the wicked pit that had become my soul.


    It towered over me, the sovereign of that wickedness. A being of horned evil, umbral feathers, scales of darkness, and draconic eyes that echoed the sweetest words to my soul. "To you, Leary, I bestow intelligence, wisdom, charisma, wealth, power, and freedom. Thus increasing your station as the first Goblin Paragon. Thus granting your wish to live. In exchange for these boons, I require only your undying faith.


    "Have undying faith in yourself, in that you will forever hold the power to destroy in my name. Have undying faith in me, in that I will forever stay the Shadow of Death from your head and guide you along the way.


    "Have undying faith, Leary, that your name shall sing from the Underworld and echo beyond the heavens. Leary, the Faithful. Goblin God-Emperor. May your faith be as undying as your glory."


    ¡ª¡ª


    Voices, familiar and eager stirred me awake. But my mind remained mute and so, I barely heard them. I thought I had a nightmare. That I died. But no memories came to mind, and the greatest feeling ever came from my back. But I couldn''t feel the cold as I pulled my legs beneath me. I could open my mind, however, and when I did, I could sense.


    I could sense the rapid pacing of a large creature and the simmering heat of a fire nearby. I could feel bloodlust. Only bloodlust. For towering above me were two high-orcs. War brothers, it seemed, despite the wildly differing visages. One, with a gold cap on a misshapen tusk and deep red skin, had the venous muscles of an orc seeking battle. As did the other. But the tusk shone silver in the morning sun. And his eyes¡­ his eyes wore something of bemusement.


    "Hrmm?" the large nostrils of Goldy sniffed, then gagged in his mother tongue. "Back''s weird. Smells like metal. Meat''s tainted."


    "They''re bottom feeders! Goblin meat''s always tainted. I''m hungry." Silver grunted in a way that made my heart pulse. "Is''t the only food around and is''t the hour of the Noctis. Ya know what that means."


    "Goblin meat''s on the menu." Goldy sulked, relieving my eyes from the axe head spanning his shoulder width as he turned away from the night to face me with a hungry glare. "Even if is''t a runt."


    "N- no." I began thrashing and thrashing harder once I found myself bound to a tree by a hooked branch.


    "Shut it!" Goldy leaned into my face with a snarl. "You squeal, the others hear. Not enough meat on you to go ''round."


    "Y- you can''t." I stammered. "You can''t!" I thrashed. "I- I was told I would live. I was told¡­ many¡­things¡­"


    "Bahahaha! You hear that? He was told things." Goldy laughed. "Many things, he says."


    "Yes," I whispered. But what was it, I so desperately wondered. As did they.


    "Tell us, O'' enlightened goblin runt, what you were told?"


    I tried so hard to remember. But all there was to remember was darkness. An unending dark of wickedness that dwelled where my spirit should have been. Yet, it was there, where I remembered... "Faith."


    Faith. That was what I needed to live. To become smart and wise and powerful. To live.


    "Oi, what wazzat?" Silver leaned in more. "Couldn''t hear you."


    Faith. That was what replaced my fear with burning malice. A burning malice that melted the eyes of two high orcs as I glared at them. "I said let me down from this fucking tree you rock-mouthed bastards. Or I will destroy you."


    "Bahahaha! Ya hear that? Little Squirt''s got some spunk! Very well." Goldy laughed, reaching behind his back to withdraw his axe head and plant it into the trunk. "Let''s see how spunky ya are when you''re split in half."


    I was Leary, the Faithful. I had faith. A faith that kept me calm during a situation that would have brought me panic just moments ago. A faith that instead made me curious and led me to watch the gnarled bark wrap around the axe head with great interest. The way it snaked into the openings at the center was almost magical, elongating into a thick handle that the high orc gripped eagerly.


    I was Leary, the Faithful. I had faith. A faith that kept me calm while Goldy freed his weapon from the tree with a feral scream. He stepped in, trailing the blade behind him to swing it lazily into my belly, cutting clear through my skin and organs until it met my spine and bounced with a metallic clang, forcing air through my lungs to compete with the sounds of creaking wood and raucous laughter. The branch stood no chance, let alone the tree. And so, I fell. There was no pain to come from my stomach, though. Only a simmering fire in my spirit that billowed a wicked smoke over my eyes. And for the first time in my short life thus far, I lost myself in bloodlust.


    "I''LL KILL YOU! I''LL FUCKING KILL YOU! I''LL KILL YOU ALL! IN THE NAME OF MY GOD I''LL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU TUSK-TOOTHED BASTARDS!"


    What followed remained to this day as a blur. I saw nothing. I only heard absolute chaos. An indecipherable cacophony of violence that sang the sweetest song to my soul without me being conscious to hear it. But I saw the aftermath. When I came to, I found myself in a desolate plain of charred land and upturned earth, of blood pools and outcroppings of bone, craters, and cuts along every surface in sight. But no corpses. No orcs.


    What became curious to me later was the fact that I didn''t even notice. What was curious to me at the time was the fragmented memories of my dream. That, and the haunting whispers scratching at the back of my mind. Repeating a single word. Uttering a single direction. A command.


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 326 - Sausage

    I ran for what felt like days. Sprinted, I did; chasing after God''s whispers; building my faith with each step.


    How fast, I now was; capable of infusing my body with mana to move at great speed. Great speed for a goblin, at least. I moved across the land faster than any warg could sprint. And infinitely longer.


    How conditioned, I now was; untiring as I sprinted and climbed and leaped without stopping. Unslowing in my momentum no matter the obstacle, for my faith demanded I make it to my destination with the utmost haste.


    How strong, I now was; able to leap over ravines, jump atop boulders, and even compete with humans easily. My body felt both light and heavy. Lifting my feet with such speed was effortless. And yet, my steps thundered across the lands of Kasia as if I weighed a ton.


    How durable, I now was; healed completely from the attack that birthed my wrath. I felt like nothing could halt my advance. With faith, nothing could. Not boulders or trees. Not fur throats or tusked-tooths, Humies, or even elves. But still, I stopped. The memories of a body once gone demanded I stop at a steaming watering hole for a drink. But there was no difference between before and after. My mouth was no more or less parched. My lungs were no more or less winded. My feet were no more or less sore. So I ran more.


    I sprinted as prompted by my whispers, passing the Tri-Point to skim the borders of Rhar, where corpses lay abound. And again, I stopped. The memories of a mind now lost demanded I scour and scavenge the corpses for whatever could be found. Weapons and ruined equipment. Trinkets and gold. A flask and satchel filled with booze, sausage, and dried strips of meat. After claiming the satchel from a dead halfling, I claimed the sausage and took a bite of the meat, again noticing no difference. Instead, there was something else to be noticed. A scratching whisper that was different than all the others, yet the same. It came with images of things I''d never seen. A clearing, and a drawing of a ring surrounded by six smaller circles, each inscribed with some¡­ sigil.


    How enthralled I was, in drawing those circles atop a flat rock. I took the utmost care. Ensuring each line was perfect before I moved on to the next, wherein I received the greatest sense of satisfaction once I was finished. It was so great that I began to chant and sing so loudly that it shattered space itself, prying apart the fabric of reality to drop a golden brazier at the center of those circles.


    Filled to the brim with onyx, the brazier roared into life from the heat of my song''s fervor, blazing in an eldritch shade of blue-green energy that left the onyx smoldering, billowing a nightly smoke into the air that shaded the skies in darkness and illuminated the ground under a banner of stars.


    Seeming to fight back, the sigils sprang to life one at a time to pour some invisible something into the air that pushed against the darkness and me both. I felt like I was in the basin of the Great Rift, oppressed by the very air threatening to crush me into nothing. But I maintained. The smoke did not. It gradually compressed into an egg''s shape and shifted from a vibrant shade of blue-green and gold to a blacker-than-black hue before a final surge of force split that void of darkness in two. Two soon became four, and soon, a web of cracks had formed around the shell; bulging and shifting to release upon the realms, a small draconic creature of shadow with a barbed tail and eyes of snow.


    Although it was just born, it was about as large as a house cat and jumped onto my shoulder with just as much grace. With it, came another wave of immense satisfaction, along with more scratching whispers that pulled me north. And so, I ran.


    Throughout the night and day, I sprinted, trying to remember more and more of my dream in hopes of figuring out what this thing was. I did not get far, only learning the obvious. It was some weird small dragon-thing. It was even lazy like them. Despite it being a hunter with a fanged maw, wings, and sharp claws, it remained in the folds of my clothes throughout the day. Sleeping. Only when the sun started to fall did it awake to give me a close study. And therein I found it was still indeed some weird, small dragon-thing. The scales around its horns seemed to be¡­ feathery. The horns spiraling back from his skull had bone-white horizontal grooves, and the great wings were not leather like that of a dragon, but feathered like a bird, beating silently as it circled me; its barbed tail trailing helplessly behind it.


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    Each study of the thing brought crude thoughts. Visions, unlike those from my faith. They were more like thoughts that were not my own. Thoughts of running, sprinting to some cave or clearing, and feeling¡­ satisfied.


    "What are you?" I demanded. But what responded was the thumping of a large beast approaching from behind.


    When I wheeled around I saw a horse-sized creature in the far distance lunging at me with great speed. It was almost a blur of spotted, amber fur and a white underbelly but stained red with the blood of those I just scavenged around the saber-toothed maw. Long serrated claws protruded from its paws, digging into the ground deeply as it pounced and brought its golden-maned head to bear. I met those hateful orange eyes calmly, paying more attention to the black lines trailing from its eyes to its maw while I reached into my satchel and thrust out a thick piece of meat.


    "Here!" I danced the links around in the air between me and the hulking beast. "It''s sausage. You''ll- uogh!"


    A flash of amber preceded an immense weight that crushed the words from my lungs. But again, I felt no pain. Nor did I feel the claws raking into my hide or the fangs biting into my skin. Neither did I feel anger, to my surprise. I only had a thought to destroy. A thought that added fuel to the fires of my faith and made me giddy to no end. In embracing it, I felt distant pain before something hot and wet splattered against my skin. The beast howled, reeling back on its hind legs and I leaped off my back, thrashing with my arms to spray myself in glorious gore until it fell into a pile of steaming meat; wherein I gazed upon my tools of destruction for the first time.


    Razor-sharp metal extended a few centimeters from each of my fingernails, forming long claws stained with blood. Surprised, I tried to remember what they had looked like before and reeled back as they seamlessly retracted beneath my skin, which restitched to regrow black fingernails atop my fingers. Again came the satisfaction when they retracted. Again came the thoughts that weren''t mine- this time about the creature dead at my feet, and me, with injuries that would slow our pace. And then of me again, imbuing both the dragon-creature and the beast with my... power.


    "My... power?" I stared at the creature, remembering when I felt it with the orcs. I was angry then. I thought only of killing. But again, the images came of me looking inside myself instead.


    Following the thoughts, I closed my eyes and gazed upon my inner spirit- that pit of wickedness. What was nothing before was now a mass of darkness surrounded by a ring of golden light. It circled my life well, feeding its unholy energies into the pool of vibrant energy within. Following these thoughts, I reached out to the strange small dragon. And with that action came a stream of that tainted energy. Like the heavy rains pouring into the great rift, my energy flowed into that creature, giving no apparent change to the outside.


    However¡­


    "Ah!" a satisfied purr trilled in the air while a deep and regal voice rang in my mind. "That''s much better. Now, Leary, do the same to dire-cheetah."


    "What are you?" I demanded.


    "I was a mere Dragonimp. Now I am a Bone Dragonimp." It voiced in my mind. "I am your familiar, Leary. Now, hurry. God is waiting."


    "Who is your God?" I asked, stubbornly.


    "Your patron, and your God as well." It hissed. "He has blessed you with many things, Leary. And not mere tools of destruction, a new body entirely. Necessities, these blessings are, for you will need them if you are to live through your curse."


    "Curse?"


    "You said you would do anything to live, yes? Now that you forever live, we embark to do any and everything. So focus once more and pray for this beast to change," it said, hopping up to rest on my head. "These are your true boons. The most prevalent.


    "Aside from me."


    "AsIdE fRoM mE." I echoed with disdain as I looked within once more. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" Stupid fucking imp dragon. It was punishment. Of that I was certain. But if it was decreed by God then I would embrace it faithfully. And with my freedom, I would make this thing''s life a living nightmare.


    I unleashed my power with a roar, leaving nothing to spare. The energy, wicked and delightful, poured into the dead beast like flies to shite, burrowing deep inside the flesh to force convulsions and mutations within its bones. Satisfying cracks saw its claws grow large and wickedly curved while the beast writhed in phantom pain from its bones being pulled apart. Deep crunches saw each vertebra split from its disk and enlarge into cruel spikes along the spine, ending in a spiked club at the base of the tail. They grew shorter and more blunt, those spines, as they reached the base of the neck. Flattening, eventually, into a crown similar to moose horns, just large enough for me to sit comfortably beneath a saber-toothed head plated in bone armor. With a wheeze, the beast pulled its legs beneath its once-disemboweled torso, now covered by its ribs, widened and made to overlap like armor.


    I jumped to my throne without delay, cackling madly as the final bit of magic spawned skeletal wings feathered in darkness on the beast''s mid-back.


    "Let''s go, Sausage!"

 327 - Beware the Blessed

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    <<"You should have killed them.>> I snorted derisively, turning away from the dwarves retreating into the night.


    <<"Why, for being fools?">> Amun snorted in kind. <<"If I killed every person who reacted to me with violence, humans, dwarves, and elves would be endangered species. Besides,">> He lifted his eyes from the sleeping goblin to give me a knowing grin. <<"Even fools can become wise, given enough time.">>


    I started to retort before a soft groan cut me off. Simultaneously, we dropped our gaze to see a pair of yellow eyes grow wide before overgrown rat ears sank to the sides of a chevroned head. A head that was cradled by spindly arms of darkness that reached eagerly at something beneath his flesh. A head clouded by a faceless visage that marked the end of the goblin''s time on the Mortal Plane- the Shadow of Death.


    "PLEASE!" the goblin pushed away from us in a frenzy, uncaring of his ragged legs dragging through the snow. "DON''T KILL ME, S- SIR ELF- SIR DARK ELVES! PLEASE! I''M JUST A CHI-" It stopped suddenly, looked around the barren fields, and began thrashing just as quickly as it stopped. "I''M JUST AN ORPHAN RUNT, PLEASE!"


    Amun gave me an amused look while the tirade repeated with several variations of the same thing. Being hardly able to interpret it, I could only shrug. While what the goblin said may have been true, it was nothing short of what would be said by any other goblin in the same situation.


    This one, however, took it to the extreme.


    "Please! I- I just wanted to stay in the great rift. Cooking and cleaning. But they made me torture. They found a guy. Clock! They called him Clock! He kept dying and coming back so they tortured him. They made us torture him. I- I didn''t want to do it! Kill! They said! You have to know how to kill! Then they brought me out here. It''s my first battle. I haven''t done anything. I didn''t want to do it. I-"


    "What''s your name?" Amun asked, cutting the ramblings off instantly.


    "Leary! Oh!" it collapsed at the sight of the Owl perching on Amun''s shoulder, much to my amusement. "Please! I''ll do anything to live! Whatever you want! I''ll be your slave! Your servant! Forever and ever! I''ll cook! And clean! I''ll even steal! I- I''ll kill! I''ll do it! Whatever you say! Just¡­ I don''t want to die! I wish to live!"


    The last thing I saw was Amun''s devilish maw curl into the foulest grin imaginable. Then an abyssal darkness consumed my senses. If only for a moment.


    "Beware what you wish for, Leary."


    It was not that the magical darkness dispersed. Only that I could now see through it. And within, I saw the unconscious goblin groaning and churning beneath the Owl''s claws while Amun watched with a complicated expression.


    With all the secrecy, I thought it a perfect time to practice the sign language practiced by his clan. Slowly, my fingers danced in the darkness, sending ripples through the shadows that danced in his ears in the form of spoken words. ''What is this? What are you doing?''


    ''You''ll see.'' Amun signed back, amazing me by the sheer efficiency of the language. So akin to speech, it was. Heard only by those loved by the darkness.


    Nodding accordingly, I seated myself to watch him withdraw divine materials as I saw in Bakewia; nearly two dozen Dimensionite ingots of varying sizes were teleported away with some Arcanite Canisters before he turned his gaze to an ambiguous point for a few moments, then turned back to me.


    "Are you aware that Goblinoids have blue blood?"


    "I have killed many and tortured more." I nodded. "I am aware."


    {"I didn''t know that."} Blude''s voice echoed across the net.


    "That''s because goblinoids and perhaps the other creatures born from the Betrarthean Tree of Life have a copper-based blood called hemocyanin. Coincidentally, so too do invertebrates like squid, the octopus, and." He gestured to our home, hidden in the distance. "Cuttlefish."


    A popping sound punctuated his words, signaling the arrival of several items, including the now mana-infused ingots. The curious item was in his hand, however- a strange hand crossbow of glass and metal loaded with a vial of fluid rather than quarrel. I examined it while Amun turned to check up on the Owl, seeming to be enthralled in an attempt to stare the goblin awake. What the net responded with, however, were flags and warnings stating that what I was searching for was heavily classified before my authorization approved me to learn of some sort of ''Nanite Injector.''


    "That aside," Amun turned to face me while I read on. "Despite being from the same Tree of Life, Goblinoids have differing physiologies than orcs. Whether that is a surprise or not is up to you. But what''s truly surprising is the rejection of any implant or augmentation not imbued into their skeletal systems. Any tampering with the flesh results in a spontaneous and horrendous rejection. The only exceptions are augmentations born from cursed or divine mana. Like this." He waved the injector around.


    "Fascinating." I gasped, mostly from what I learned about the injector. Yet, I was still curious. "Is the same true for orcs?"


    Amun shook his head. "A bit of the opposite. Orc flesh adapts to wood and stone-based prosthetics, implants, or augmentations exceptionally well. However, they can receive normal or cybernetic implants too. But bone augmentations do little for them, often weakening their bodies. Now, if you''ll give me a moment."


    With a polite and unneeded nod, he walked into the cloud of shadow, allowing the Owl to flap out and toss aside its cowl and mask to land before me as a mirror image of Amun, leaning atop an exquisite cane.


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    "So," I began to sign. "This is your companion?"


    "Our companion." Amun''s clone corrected in a coldly harsh tone. "The last member of the Troupe. For now, at least. Though he will make the journey to our destination alone."


    "And why is that?"


    "As you all are blessed to be Celestials and Gods, they are cursed to be undying, and eventually Devils. Undying Fiends. They will journey alone until we rendezvous to grow familiar with their new nature as undying beings."


    With a jerk of the neck and an unsettling smile, my eyes were brought forward to gaze into the abyss. "Like this one, they all had the Shadow of Death hanging over them. A man in Bakewia experimented on himself with potions, poisoning himself in the long run. A girl in Chor lived in a toxic hole, thus she developed cancer. A girl in Redagh was tainted by the Blighted Woods, so she was banished and murdered by her family. And, then there''s Leary. A goblin runt who simply ran out of time.


    "In one way or another, all of them were greedy, sinful, or became wicked in their ways. One sought immortality to achieve his magnum opus. One lost her wealth, and then lost herself to vengeance. One killed everyone in her tribe, including her parents. And Leary went against his conscience by torturing and killing an innocent man, thus tainting his soul with wickedness. In turn, they all walked willingly into the darkness. Thus they all had to die, so they may toe the line with death evermore."


    "And be corrupted into fiends," I concluded. "And then be blessed tremendously to be made into a paragon of his species like me, perhaps."


    "Exactly. But that''s only the beginning." The clone turned with a flash of his jagged teeth. "Observe."


    I needed not the clone to tell me. Like the Satellite, I was enthralled by Amun''s deliberate actions. Analyzing all I saw with the Net to leave nothing unnoticed.


    After suspending the goblin in the air like a butcher would a rothay, he took a precision cutting instrument- a scalpel- and carved a line down Leary''s nearly severed back. Pausing when needed to allow the shudders and twitches of the nearly dead body to pass until he met the tail bone and he peeled away the flesh to expose the shattered spine beneath, then wove a field of magnetic mana to pin the skin in place with thin needles; only to cut it away. On and on he continued, cutting out the flesh entirely to expose the bone beneath. Leaving, in the end, a brain housed within a bloodied skeleton.


    A pulse of shadow-fused spatial mana spawned a spool of thin black fibers and a roll of vibrant blue silk alongside several ingots of magnetically treated adamantine beside Amun while small cards and fields of text inscribed themselves in the ambient mana, describing how Amun projected x-rays from one eye and received the radiation with the other to scrutinize every detail of Leary''s skeletal structure. Seconds passed and more information clouded Amun''s vision, in turn flooding my eyes with tales of the utterly insane. But of course, they were anything but tales.


    Methodically, Amun went about the brutalized body, infusing the essence of the ArcaTech into the adamantine ingots before his gravitational magic pulled them to rest atop the bones. He then wrapped the divine fibers around the discarded flesh, tying them around the frame as if he were preparing a crude mummy. Or if not that, as if he was trying to fill in the muscle with the wire and fill the skull with Attosilk, data crystals, and Biogold, much to my horror.


    Once he was done, he went around the body a final time, sinking the injector into every rib, every vertebra, every bone that he could find. Probing down to the marrow with sickening crunches to fill the chasm with a sample of the thick blue-green slurry.


    That was simple. But what the Net told me, even my blessings struggled to help me understand.


    Nanites, they were called; another device born from his realm of gods and made more revolutionary through magic. Even without magic, they were machines made as small as machinations could physically be, capable of manipulating the basic blocks of the universe as we would stone to make a building. They manufactured molecules from atoms like Edward Pascal made those vehicles from metals. With magic, however, the so-called Arcanites could infuse a magical affinity into every molecule they touched. As was the case with Leary''s skeleton


    The Arcanites, housed within a slurry of carbon, calcium, boron, and other elements, awoke from their dormancy shortly after entering Leary''s marrow. Immediately, they began stripping the environment of every molecule present in an effort to build a swarm with the mission to disassemble and quickly reassemble the entirety of Leary''s skeleton. A process that would take hours without the temporal domain Amun enclosed him in.


    It appeared like a living thing. A blue-green goo that consumed the body wholly, leaving the magically-infused ingots and black threads floating or poking above the amorphous fluid like ice on the water. Until they too began to sink and disappear. Yet, through the Net, I could bear witness to an illusory simulation of the process, involving a field of cascading mechanical hands that moved countless times per second. From a grid-like wall, they stripped spheres of varying colors, injected them with mana, and passed them down the chain, mixing them with other materials to create complex structures that were carefully laid into a lattice at the far side. An effort that, on a large scale, would grow a new skeleton in real time.


    A minute through the process saw the goo recede in various places as the flesh-wrapped wires were consumed, in turn exposing an incomplete skeleton of adamantine, laced with veins- circuits that glowed a deep blue; bringing about the true moment of disbelief. Though, in hindsight, I should not have been so shocked. Indeed, just as he had done with Zaraxus, Amun went about the body, placing the dozens of magic-infused Dimensionite ingots into recesses and housings and open hands made by the goo. But whereas the Umbra Emperor had enchantments in his bones and thus could use each as a single spell. The majority of Leary''s very bones were infused with a different magical affinity.


    The adamantine was found throughout his skull and in the marrow of his bone. Ordinary, it was, though it was infused with the essence of the ArcaTech and some electromagnetic mana to negate the ferrous properties of the metal while simultaneously granting him control over any machines he''d create in the future. And of course, his body.


    Everything else, however, was a tool of destruction.


    Each of his fingers and toes was tipped with Dimensionite- adamantine that could change form- infused with blade mana. Similarly, his forearms were infused with shield mana. Each of his ribs held charge mana as well as Volterum, and to eject it, beam mana was infused into his sternum. Gravity mana was infused in the lowest portion of his metallic spine. Rubber mana infused the once-shattered vertebrae in his lumbar region. And each vertebrae higher was tainted by the color of a different magic. The lime green of barrier magic. The slate-gray of scale magic. The off-white of bone magic. The soupy black of shadow magic. The pearly ivory of feather magic. The five thoracic vertebrae of the goblin''s anatomy remained exposed to the air, even as the gray goo swelled to consume the body and dispersed in an anticlimactic mist minutes later. Leaving quite the exotic-looking goblin to drop unceremoniously into the snow.


    When all was said and done, the clone grinned at me with supreme satisfaction while Amun turned to me with an anticipatory grin. <<"Last two stops.">> They both said, ascending into the air. <<"And we''ll be wasting no time to get there.">>


    <<"In a hurry for once?">> I chortled in full surprise. <<"To where?">>


    While the clone only grinned, Amun turned his gaze to a curiously bright point of silver in the distant mountains. Yet they both replied.


    <<"My houses of worship.">>


    <<"My ascension.">>

 328 - Ascendant Aspirations

    Blude.


    25th of Trescia, 1492.


    Kasian Empire, Flate Wildlands. Joim Rift. 327 km east of the Rhar-Kasia-Chaulort Tri-Point.


    5:29 AM.


    ***


    It seemed ironic, how I had all the time in the realms, yet seemed to have little time to reflect. To think of the wild ride these last several- or few- months have been.


    I went from an urchin in a backwater town to a royal overnight. That was something I was sure few in all the Mortal Plane could say. None could say, though, that they went from an orphan to a divine empress of the sea in only a few hours. Nor could they say they ventured to what was possibly the most dangerous country in the land to learn how to kill from perhaps the most dangerous creatures in all the realms: ancient drow monks. It was something I still found trouble believing. That me, Redd, Sam, and Iris learned to fight from Abbot Eiriol of Nydorden Halls. We learned to fight well. But we learned much more. Elven secrets of the arcane. Dark elven secrets of divinity. Deception. Manipulation. Intrigue. And also things of the divine. Classes. Core annexes. Divine aphids. Trees of Life and more.


    At times, I couldn''t wrap my head around it. The one thing I could reminisce on, over these months, was my taste of what was to come. The Walk, as the drow called it.


    We weren''t like Iris, who adopted much more than the name Cole. Seeing the kingdoms of Shujen line themselves up for slaughter was shocking, to say the least. I had killed before. But seeing so much pointless death and destruction made us- or at least me hope such events wouldn''t transpire wherever we went.


    Well, not that it was pointless. Geri and Freki joined us. And, for the most part, our journey since then hadn''t been as dark and dreary as Shujen. Still, though, we returned changed in ways I still can''t describe. Matured, would almost be the word. But not quite. I couldn''t explain it. I could notice it, though. When we returned to Winwell and saw Chloala, Jayde, and Kali squatting in our sauna, they almost looked at us as we looked at Amun or Lana. With reverence.


    I thought it was because of something they experienced or heard during our absence. Perhaps it was, seeing the pirates that plagued our waters forcefully removed. But that was not us, so perhaps not. When we arrived in Chor, we went out hunting. All of us. Geri and Freki killed most of them. Sam and Redd killed one or two, and Iris none. Regardless, those we returned with looked at us the same way. Despite them hardly knowing us at the time. Ironically, those we recruited from Chor were not of those rescued. Mostly, at least, they were of those beaten into submission.


    Gwehn, a large girl Amun assured me was a barbarian, came with six little dimwits who''ve been addicted to the concept of extreme sports since they entered the Cuttleship. They even went as far as to claim a different type of sport each. Summer and Winter sports. Extreme and casual sports. Water sports. And, per Amun''s suggestion, sky sports. But like everyone else in this group, they had another job in my growing mafia. Defense and protection. Hired goons. Bruisers.


    Lizlee, on the other hand, stayed far away from them. Being a bardic half-elf, she and her gang of seven other orphans instead spent her time with Kali and her eight subordinates, singing to them while they practiced their witchcraft. But singing seemed not the true style of Lizlee''s bards. Bards of Entertainment, they called themselves. Journalists, broadcasters, publishers, and hosts of all sorts of media that was soon to be beamed across the Peninsula and beyond.


    Likewise, Kali seemed to be learning witchcraft for a different reason. Namely, to kill both fast and slow. To poison. To assassinate in the light of day as a witch who did her best against all odds. The case was the same for everyone, of course. Emily and her five were all alchemists of some type. But whereas they could and often would make potions, their eagerness came from refining as many narcotics as they could learn to create; much to Amun''s delight.


    Chloala was studying grandmaster artificing like many gnomes. But unlike them, she was starting a retail business that had a darker side that dabbled in the black markets. Jayde had five subordinates, all studying some type of financial field. One was studying the principles of law. Another banking, and then insurance, real estate, and lobbying; and yet, they also studied gambling, loan sharking, offshore banking, and other things.


    And then, of course, there was Redd and her industrial pod of 14; and Sam, with her 13 chefs. And then me. The Prime Matriarch.


    "Today''s the day we change."


    "What was that?"


    I turned to Redd, looking curious but eager. Then to Sam and the others before I pulled their gaze above, to Mani and all its glory.


    Normally appearing no larger than my thumb when held at arm''s length, the moon had grown to dominate the sky as an alien eye of silver and gray as large as my palm wrapped around my fist and held at the same distance. The sky itself awoke from its brilliance, pushing back the ever-present darkness to allow a swath of glimmering blue to illuminate the ground from above. But there were no stars to glimmer in that night, only worlds. A stormy mountain; a crowned jewel of a forest; a smoldering sun of metal, and others; all locked in an eternal dance around the world so large.


    So divine, the way they silently weaved and spun amongst one another, the woven worlds of the Legio Noctis.


    "Planeta Supra; and the Blue Moon," I explained to the wide-eyed girls. "The first means blessings are to come today, for all the Legions. The second means great change is coming to these lands. Orpheus Redd. Samejima." I turned a smile between them. "You hear them too, right? Our other halves.


    "We become whole with them today. As do you lot." I said loud enough for the other girls to hear. "Today, we become like Geri and Freki. Touched by Mani to become one with the wolves of the sea.


    "Today, the Orcinus Mafia is born."


    "Well said, Blude."


    I wheeled around to see Amun approaching with Etan by his side, like always. He trailed Amun more than Iris, even. But he wasn''t so bad. He was a great teacher and an even better fighter. He even managed to get Freki to adopt a combat style and start fighting with his mind for once. But, with his blessings, we all began to wonder if he was still a drow.


    "Alright, Iris, Etan, put your friends away."


    Etan''s golden iris'' squinted incredulously and focused on Amun before Iris sent her short-legged dog into the Cuttleship. Then he followed suit with a snap to disappear the jaguar cub.


    "Are you ready to go?" Amun then asked, seemingly to no one in particular.


    Still, though, I asked. "Where?"


    A snap of the finger pulled the ground from under me, flipped me upside down, and blinded me in silver light. A hell of a response. One that ended with the heavily inclined ground of a mountain firmly planted beneath my feet.


    Still seeking an answer, I looked up to Amun, pointing up the silver-limned hill. "Up there," He said. But I was already swimming.


    Within moments I crested the hill and came upon a nostalgic land that I''d never seen before. White moths fluttered in dreamy circles amongst blue-trunked trees and silver flowers with veins of reds, oranges, and blues. Rocks outgassed a thick mist across the ground that seemed to bubble and froth as it rose past the maws of wolves and foxes chasing rabbits. I froze as my eye caught the sight of something familiar. Not from fear, though. From astonishment. For a many-pointed crown of silver waded from behind a particularly thick tree. Its eyes were the color of rich blood, as was the otherwise white fur of its maw and the magnificently menacing weapons that gave the Bladehorn Stag its namesake.


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    It was the first I''d ever seen. Said to be dangerous carnivorous deer. Pack predators akin to wolves. But this one was... beautiful. This one was blessed. And so too was I.


    I began to approach with such thoughts running through my mind when I froze once again. A guy, probably no older than me, appeared from the bend of the same tree, patting the stag while he smiled at me warmly. "It is my honor, Chako Blude."


    I titled my head as he bowed, taking in the loose blouse and trousers of white with blue stitchings. A seemingly plain design, I thought, until I caught the visage of a stag emblazoned on his back. "You know of me?" I gave a curt nod when he finally turned back to me.


    "Of course. You are one of the few who walk by Mani''s side. We of the Order know of you and the other chosen ones. We have been expecting you." He motioned further up the hill- to a cliff, I realized and seemed to understand simultaneously.


    The silver-straddled path led to the cliff''s edge, where it seemed to merge with the blue skies seamlessly. A simple design that forced a sense of insignificance upon whoever entered the forest, looked ahead and felt themselves standing at the edge of an endless sea. Which, for all intents and purposes, it was. A sea of fluids; liquid and gas, that stretched between the realms ad infinitum. A perpetual sea with but a few islands found in its waters. Worlds in the cosmic void, nearly aligned in a perfect column beneath their foundation. Mani.


    "I will see you on the other side. It would not be right for me to see Mani before the Silverskin Lady." I recoiled and turned to him, expecting some explanation as to who held such a strange title. Instead, I found he''d leaped over the edge, leaving his stag to snort at me once before it turned to walk calmly off the edge.


    Walked, it did, in the same way I swam through the air. Down and through a barrier of blue that rippled as it breached, giving me a glimpse of a world of farms, fields, and chapels surrounded by floating islands. Swim, the people within did to travel between the islands, and in the same way we did. As quickly as it came, though, the sight faded with the distancing ripples. And so, with a shrug, I turned to wait for Amun and the others to catch up.


    It didn''t take long. However, they somehow managed to gain another companion along the way. A woman in her late twenties, maybe. She had brown eyes and hair of the same color, tied back into a ponytail that bounced with her pointed steps. The true curiosity was what she was wearing, though. A skin-tight suit adorned with many streamlined pouches and pockets. But it had no gloves. Her feet were bare. And, strangely of all, it seemed to be made of spotted fur.


    "Who are you?" I asked once they approached, seeking honesty and intrigue rather than unbiased information from the Net.


    She smirked proudly and threw her chin to the realms below, to the northwest- to a great bay encompassing the coastal borders of Rhar, Ligin, Vruria, and Bakewia. "Folks in these parts know me as She Who Sank Captain Burns and cleared the coast from Shujen to Bakewia, Bella Hampton! The rest of the seas knows me as Captain Seadog."


    Despite the great service she did for my homeland, I couldn''t help but laugh, gesturing to her suit. "Like a Pinniped? You fancy yourself a leopard seal?"


    Her chin and smile dropped instantly. "Is that funny?"


    I gestured to the girls, snickering amongst themselves. "The Pod eats those."


    "Pod?" She canted her head with a snap. "You fancy yourself an orca or something?"


    "Exactly."


    "So, you''re saying I should become one?" She snorted.


    "Well, you''re already a rogue." I shrugged. "Master class or not, I''m sure that can turn into a prestige class, given the right blessing."


    "I''m an Admiral in the Noctis Fleets." She pointedly mentioned. "Soon to be Fleet Admiral."


    "And you can be the Fleet''s liaison to the Mafia. Safe houses and shore leave and all that."


    "Hmm." She slowly nodded, tossing her head. "Being a liaison sounds good. But I''m good otherwise. Can''t change my character."


    "I respect that."


    Rather than a nod, ''Seadog'' turned to Iris as she stepped before the group to approach a woman with bulbous red eyes and skin so pale it seemed to be silver. Plainclothes covered her frame in white and silver with traces of red. But it seemed to shine upon her skin in a nearly unexplainable way.


    But of course, Iris found a way.


    "You''re so pretty! You look like a vampire angel!"


    The Silverskin Lady''s face melted in a mix of emotions that bashfully turned her away with exaggerated weeps; weeps that halted once she met the eyes of Amun, smiling in a way I''ve never seen before.


    "Hey." He said lowly.


    "Hey, hot stuff." The vampire said in an equally low tone, raising her brows repeatedly in a seemingly joking way, given by Amun''s laughter.


    "This is for you." Amun pulled his hands from behind his back with a silver flash, revealing a blooming bouquet of silver roses with red vines cradling a hand mirror of white and blue that somehow reflected her visage perfectly.


    Seeing it made her truly melt. Right into Amun''s arms, she collapsed. Hiding eyes I was sure to be watered as she cracked his ribs in a tight hug.


    "And I have another surprise." He wheezed in her ear. Then grabbed her by the waist with one hand and heaved her overhead with ease.


    "OH MY YOU!" She scrambled, collapsing into his arms to reverse the roles and lift him overhead. "You''re so strong!" She giggled, lowering him for a peck on the cheek. And Amun''s smile couldn''t have been wider.


    "Your lover is a vampire," Etan said in his usual monotonous tone. "Somehow I am not surprised. But I agree with Iris. You two are... perfect for each other."


    I don''t know why, but the way he said it earned him a scowl from the likes of me. Not that he noticed.


    Neither Amun nor Zakira noticed either. The former only stated it was ''complicated'' before introducing her to the Troupe. Then the latter embraced him a final time and whispered. "They''re waiting for you."


    With a pat on the head, Amun pulled away and approached the edge to first look down on the hidden world; and with that, his frame began to glow with silver-blue light that soon outcompeted the world above. A stream of moonlight flowed into the minds of the Mafia and the Order alike, sending cascading illusions through our minds of grandiose, gargantuan creatures settling into our otherwise insignificant spirits. It told us without words of the sole chance to become like Geri and Freki and to also evolve into something completely unlike them. Where their entire beings were merged with celestial creatures, we would coexist with the divine. Our spirits and souls would meld; our bodies and minds would be like a coin. Two-faced. Human and beastly, bisected and simultaneously joined by the silver line of the moon.


    Moontouched. But only if we so wished.


    "If it''s Chako''s wish then it''s mine too," I told him. "And so too is it our wish for every made member of the mafia to be Moontouched as well."


    If there was any acknowledgment of my words or the prayers of those below, it came in the form of a wave rippling up to the skies above like a wave lapping against Mani''s shores, soaking the surface until it ebbed away, only to leak its enriched contents onto the surface with the force and brilliance of a concentrated beam.


    Not a beam, I soon realized, but a road or river of silver light. A Silverstream, ridden by a pod of sky orcas, Silverhorn stags, moon moths, and lunar canines of all types. Those magnificent creatures swam, galloped, and raced to us and those gathered below while the eldritch song clicking from Amun''s tongue and his clergy below infected our minds.


    I felt myself rising as I collapsed. My vision fluttered, and I soon found myself floating in an infinite field of blue, numb and immobile as I drifted in an endless sea; eyes locked with a behemoth of black and white blubber, approaching to eclipse my vision wholly. Its song was as if every dragon in existence had roared at the same time, leaving my spirit shattered and my soul fragmented; waiting and ready to be blown apart by this oncoming mountain of a beast. Yet it never came. There was only... darkness.


    A pit of darkness, containing a point of silver light. A window, more like. In that pit, we changed. Through that window, we watched. For years, I watched Chako and Chako watched me. Dreaming. Hoping. Then we were released to make those dreams come true. How opposite, our dreams were though. Chako''s dream was to spread her family across the World Seas and the surface realms they surrounded. My dream was to have a family and give us the world. How easily those dreams merged.


    How easily we merged. How natural the absurd amount of power and knowledge and¡­ everything Chako passed onto me felt; like it was always mine. Even her name. Yet, somewhere deep within, she remained.


    "You are the Prime Matriarch of this pod now, Chako Blude. Name it as you wish. Lead it as you wish. Make our children great enough to scour the realms."


    As her voice faded into mine, the cascading memories of the realm above dissipated to a cloudy recollection of a foreign ocean and a strange, long-eared kid swimming through the blue like a sailfish, approaching us three to throw us into a pit of darkness. And so that darkness remained, broken by that distant point of silver light until my eyes opened to the city-sized husks of midnight blue and silver blubber floating in the air belly up.


    I wiped away the tears before opening my eyes around at the floating bodies of stags, wolves, moths, squids, and octopuses. All so small in comparison to the 78 sky corpses belonging to the Mafia. My Mafia.


    "Worry not." Amun''s voice boomed, lifting the long faces of the still cadavers. "Like their spirits, their flesh will be born anew. Not into clothes or armor. But," He paused to allow a glimpse of the Cuttleship to flash through everyone''s mind. "Mobile temples. Homes. Fortresses. Take them and weave the threads of freedom to the furthest corners of these lands so that all may bear witness to the coming tide."


    Those words invoked a frenzy of movement across the Order of Worlds. Taking heed to the words of their priestess, they arranged in predetermined groups and took to the air, setting off in differing directions to liberate the oppressed through both honorable and illicit means in all corners of the peninsula. The cities of Redagh. The frozen sea- Chako Sea, in Kasia. The city of Chor. Chaulort. And Vruria.


    "You have something else to do, however." Amun tugged at Zakira''s sleeve with a charming smile. "We have Iris to raise."


    ''She is adorable.'' I thought as she turned away with exaggerated bashfulness before she agreed to meet us ''up there'' later; and in a flash of silver, she was gone and Amun was back to his old self, grinning wide as he threw several boards with boots fastened to them onto the ground. "Now then." He flicked his gaze between the Troupe. "Who''s up for a little race down the mountain?"

 329 - Despairing Descent

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    25th of Trescia, 1492.


    Rhar Kingdoms, Rharian Mountains. Altitude: 2,605 m.


    06:30.


    ***


    Snowboarding. Skiing. Two more incredulous things from Amun''s world of psychopathic magicless Gods; because only they would strap a waxed board to a pair of boots and then place their already booted feet inside them to slide down a snowy mountain at great speed. Only they would then make things more dangerous and difficult by sliding on fallen trees or screaming while performing flips after the ground disappeared beneath them.


    Only they would think of such things, for why would anyone in these realms do so with magic as our aid? Why, when an accomplished wizard established teleportation circles long ago? Why, when mounted beasts could fly or maneuver across the ground with ease? Why. Indeed, that was my question.


    The answer I received? "For fun."


    Indeed, however, it was. The skill and technique involved was more than met the eye. It was as much a mental task as it was a physical one. One had to continuously look ahead to seek the best route while maintaining the proper stance and balance. Hazards had to be accounted for; everything from low-hanging branches to loose snow. And like all things Amun brought into this world, magic only made things more interesting. Magic made us go faster and launch ourselves higher, and when the snow turned to grass, magic made our boards produce snow for themselves.


    Within an hour and a half, we traveled some 45 kilometers to the west and descended from the temple near the peak of the Rharian mountains to the sprawling forests at its base. And yet, that had been the least interesting aspect of the morning thus far. The woven world, Mani, in its domain high above even the White Wall, was poised directly above Crater Lake like the eye of a leviathan studying the lives of the mortals below. Throughout our journey, the worlds raised by the Legions maneuvered themselves into a line above the first world so as to pour their collective light down on the peninsula and its inhabitants. Save for one place.


    {"Alright."} Amun''s voice echoed in my mind and I saw little illusions of the other''s faces denoting their connection to our communications. {"We''re going to meet someone soon. Make sure you''re on your best behavior. She''s¡­ volatile. But she won''t hurt you."}


    I exchanged incredulous looks with everyone else as we approached a forest of darkness. Not conjured by some spell, I learned shortly after landing, but by crackling bones in a black brazier acting as fuel for an azure flame that poured the smoky darkness around a hidden cove¡ªa darkness I could see through, only because of my blessings.


    Many creatures called that darkness home, I learned as we wandered. Draconic creatures of shadow and felines, rodents, or owls of twilight. And things of different natures entirely. Colossal, faceless beasts with fiendish horns. Amorphous blobs with uncountable eyes for skin. Countless humans, tainted by death and darkness. Dozens of vampires, and their Vampyr Lord.


    "Iris. Etan..." the well-mannered undead approached, greeting us by name before offering an elegant bow. "I welcome you to the Willowden."


    An ear-splitting crash rippled through the darkness before my eyes could take a proper look around. Me and everyone present turned to the source. Albeit for different reasons; the denizens to cower and flee; Elijah to flair and bow; Amun to groan and roll his eyes; and the rest of us to stare in awe at a beautiful but unsettling woman striding out of the gloom. Unsettling, firstly due to her sheer mass. She stood no less than two meters tall. Her body was compact with toned muscle that bulged and writhed in ways that belied the grace of her stride. I assumed her to be the stereotypical Amazonian, well endowed in both body like a human and in the face like an elf. It was such a stark contrast that I was stunned to see something so soft and elegant be so domineering and strong.


    And malicious.


    She was hauntingly pale, and her bulbous, almost doll-like eyes held irises so dark they were indistinguishable from her pupils. Her nails were long, black, and sharp and her feet were bare, walking with no mind to anything other than Amun as she slowly closed the distance, her long curly black hair leaving smoky trails lingering over a silken gown of black and gold.


    Amun maintained a dumb smile, even as her arm snapped to grasp his collar, pulling his face centimeters away from her wrathful orbs. Then she screamed.


    "YOU DARE MAKE ME A COLLAR?!"


    Her scream held enough ferocity to make the Mortal Plane itself cower. The shadows around us rippled and quaked, yet Amun met her wrath with that same dumb smile and an amiable tone. "It''s a choker. Not a collar."


    "A choker." She growled. "And yet, you placed your mark on it, as if I am your pet."


    "I would never!" Amun scoffed in a way that made me believe he was truly disrespected. In truth, I would have believed it were it not for his next words. "That''s merely a sign that wordlessly announces your greatness to any foolish mortal who dares to oppose you. And." He paused, gesturing up and down her frame. "It allows you to look as regal as you do now."


    "Change it." She clenched his collar tighter and pulled him closer, then seethed. "Right. Now."


    Amun causally reached into his coat sleeve, presenting an onyx hairpin with a black star sapphire cradled in gold.


    Smiling cruelly, the beastly woman took the hairpin in one hand. And with a casual thrust of the other, Amun was sent rocketing towards the walls of the cove. Rather than slam into it, however, a simple flip saw him land on the wall with the utmost grace, wherein he proceeded to walk calmly to the ground, uncaring of the cold hiss that crept into the air.


    "And what are you?"


    I turned and that vile cold sank into my heart, freezing me to stare into a pair of eyes like mine- golden irises around pupils so dark they were like the night itself. Only hers were more cruel than any Matron''s could be. And yet, like a Matron, her skin was dark gray with hints of blue violet, and her hair was now white like spider silk. But her hair... Her hair was pulled around a gilded tree-shaped headdress and held in place by that hairpin; giving the impression of an ancient and leafless tree covered in moss. A style told of in legends. The style of the Nox.


    Looking at only that and subduing the parts of her I hated, I took heed to Amun''s words and offered a respectful bow. "Etan Za''Darmondiel."


    A cold finger hooked under my chin the moment my lips went still. Gently, but with immense power, my head was lifted to meet her eye to eye. "The eldest Drow house in all the realms." She smirked, releasing her finger. "The Ones with Spider Blood. Blood that lies dormant. Just like their Queen Demon Spider."


    "Y- yes." I nodded, not knowing what else to do as she passed her eyes over the others, who were just as awe-struck as I was. Except, of course, one.


    "You look scary. But you seem nice."


    "I am scary, little one. And I am nice." She knelt to the inhuman girl with a cruel smile. "Only to those who stand beneath your father''s wing, however. I am especially nice to you, Iris. The child that has taken the name of Cole. We are mirrors, you and I. Or, we will be in time."


    A snicker rippled through the dark as she rose to her full height and turned to Amun. "Your bite is now strong enough to draw blood. But a Tiny Devil, you are still." Her eyes flicked up and down his frame as he stopped beside her. And with another snicker, she pulled the choker off with a quick tug and tossed it aside carelessly. "Perhaps the time I grace you with my presence is soon upon us."


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "I''ll be getting a little bigger soon, but I agree; especially with that form," Amun smirked and gestured for the Troupe to follow him and the massive woman to a large pit.


    Given our journey thus far, there was no hesitation from any of us. We simply walked off the edge, expecting to descend into some type of madness. But instead, we stepped onto what seemed to be a plate of solid darkness until Amun produced a flash of twilight.


    Pulled from its slumber by that golden light was a floral chamber of black wood with gilded grains that reminded me of the interior of a hollow tree. One with a door that promptly swung shut and many windows that gave us one final glimpse of the cove before we fell.


    "I''ve always been curious." A graceful voice rippled behind me and I turned to see Elijah, leaning uncomfortably close to my ear. "How far do the most infamous denizens of the Darkworld delve into this domain?"


    I should have known that to be the spark of madness. But alas, I answered with the mind of an archivist. "There are depths that even we do not dare go. As such, the tales vary as to how deep it truly is."


    Elijah, the beast disguised as a drow, and Amun alike huffed, snickered, and snorted at my reply. But again, I thought nothing of it. Not out of some particular state of mind but by the movement of our chamber and the activation of the VoidNet projecting a map around my body with a golden dot depicting our location. Upon catching my bearings, I thought our rate of descent to be the madness itself. We sank through the Underground and arrived in the Darkworld within minutes. Then continued to descend deeper than any drow had ever been. I watched in amazement as the little dots that represented our position fell deeper and deeper into the Mortal Plane, bringing us to a most amazing place. The True Darkworld. A realm as large as the Peninsula above. A world of mycelium fields and mushroom forests; mountains of adamantine and mithral; ''soil'' of tarnished copper and rusted iron; deserts of dust; rivers and seas of oils or slime; all illuminated by an astral sea of stars spread across the ceiling.


    It was that Twilight that gave new life to the realm. Forests of vibrantly colored flowers and trees stretched infinitely into the land, providing homes for a multitude of creatures in a constant state of predation and competition. The stars littering the ceiling were regularly occluded by the hollowed rocks drifting lazily above. Estates and manors and ritual halls adorned with gilded buttresses, terraces, and wide bridges or walkways that formed gaping avenues within the clusters of hulking structures. Cable cars and snaking carriages mounted to rails carried hundreds of humans, goblins, orcs, and other creatures between the clusters at various elevations while suspended rails brought passengers across the districts and as far down to the surface, where a magnificent cathedral sat at the center of the forest. A place I thought to be our destination. But still, we descended.


    Past a county-sized lair of draconic creatures of shadow and ritual halls galore, we descended to arrive at a chamber 1.41 million kilometers beneath the borders of the Darkworld I was familiar with.


    In the Deep Dark, we were. As far as one could go and as close as one could get to the Underworld, we were pointedly told. Even then, however, It was akin to the Darkworld above. Stars littered the ceiling. Abodes floated freely above the Duskwoods. Cable cars and railways transported people where they needed to be. And yet, it was unlike anything that existed above; for here, a divine tree of twilight grew from the center of a relatively small chamber. And not one, but three cathedrals were built into the far wall.


    Amun and the large woman were praised with zeal as they paraded the streets. So too were we, but not with such fervor. Still, it was a strange sensation. To be revered by so many strangers. And for nothing other than being cast out of my home. For nothing other than following Amun to those cathedrals, where he stopped beneath a massive statue of an owl perched atop a floating sphere of black opal.


    The woman, on the other hand, walked past it to step onto a wide dais of gold and onyx and lay down on a comparatively tiny bench at the front rim. Soon after, two more women walked from the adjacent structures of gothic design to stand next to the statue and wait for several more to arrange themselves accordingly.


    With a screech from an owl perched atop Amun''s shoulder, a crimson-eyed woman in a winged suit of gilded armor began. "Humbled by the presence of our God and his chosen, we of the Black Plume become whole with darkness on this blessed dawn. At its head, the Remex, Syele." She gestured to the robed woman who came out with her. "Supporting her, the Retrices: Perry and Rita. Supporting them, the Tectrices of the Body, Daniella, and Newton."


    With her words spent, the Vampyr Lady, Opal sank her fangs into Syele with one swift motion. Gasps of ecstasy rang from the apparent victim''s lips until her body was left slumped at the brink of death and the vampire withdrew, allowing a robed skeleton to catch the falling victim and carry her to rest in an elaborate coffin filled with the dirt on which she just stood.


    She remained in that blissful state as the undead placed a chalice at the head of her coffin and filled it halfway with the silvery blood of a unicorn. Her eyes fluttered as Opal procured a small blade from seemingly nowhere and made an incision on her neck to withdraw an impossibly large sphere of blood. She began shuddering into stillness as Opal began praying and pouring her blood into the chalice, then sent the rest to flow into the coffin.


    She did not thrash. She did not choke. With a few unceremonious bubbles, she passed. Moments later, the stilled blood began to ripple and drain. Slowly at first, then in larger and larger gulps that progressed into an open drain straight down her gullet. within a few seconds, her silhouette breached the surface and the horrendous suction of her lips morphed into a whistle that tapered into a droning silence. Then the blood began to glow rust-red, then brighter to that of blood, and then moved to that of crimson before shifting, rippling, and drying into a pile of steaming black powder. As it dissipated or cascaded into her, it was hard to tell, Elijah explained the process granted her the same station as his and simultaneously prevented her from rising into a feral beast obsessed with hunger.


    She arose moments later, appearing hardly any different, other than the crimson eyes squinting in pure joy as she rose her chalice to the crescendo of ominous humming and screamed her pledge to uphold her position to the best of her abilities before she upturned the chalice into her mouth.


    The hums rang louder when Syele repeated the ritual with those named Perry and Rita. And louder ever more when they rose to sink their fangs into so-called Tetrices of the Body, Daniella, and Newton. But they were only a fraction of those present. The newborn Vampyr stood and watched an orc named Grotto and a human named Mika, Tectrices of the Talon, plead- beg for Amun to make them more so they could gather wicked souls in the name of the Owl through ritual sacrifice.


    He obliged in that strange nightmarish tongue of his. I know not what he said, but wicked darkness poured from him and entered their bodies all the same. Killing them and disappearing them to be summoned as horned, tailed, and winged figures dressed in umbral clothes.


    Devils.


    Chanting, a human and a goblin then entered a temporal domain to lay atop the altar, below a familiar bell. Like those who came before, Limy and Grooshk gave praise to the Owl, declaring they''d use this gift of undeath to perform unceasing rituals for his glory. Then they stripped nude to sing and chant while they were cut hundreds of times most articulately. Elaborate marks that archaically matched their holy symbol of an owl looming above a radiant sphere of darkness were carved into their chests and backs. On their arms and hands were markings that resembled feathers. On their legs and feet, markings that resembled talons. Their necks were wrapped in metal bands that constricted and elongated them. Their heads were put into presses, crushing them into heart shapes like that of an owl. They took the punishment stoically. Not moving, crying, or dying until the last mark was carved and they received their blessing- their permission from their God to die; and report.


    When they returned as undying shadows, the crowd erupted in ceremonious cheer, then fell silent as a sphere of darkness appeared from atop that cruel woman''s dais. From it, emerged a pair of beings who were just behind me. Elijah and his companions.


    Again, we watched the same ritual as before unfold. Minus the coffin and the drowning, as the ones named Art and Kele were already spawns who became more by melding with darkness to gain ties to the Shadow Realm. Post-ritual, their pale, tattooed skin returned to the yellowish luster they had in life while their hair transitioned to a deep black with gilded highlights. Reborn, they declared themselves as a denomination of the Black Plume, serving the Exalted Gloom in the name of the Owl. Kele, the short-haired deep gnome with the large hammer, declared herself the Exalted Gloom''s Inquisitor, and the male, Art, declared himself the Gloom Stalker, purposed with finding new lairs for her woman. Then all but demanded Amun bless them.


    To no surprise, Amun obliged. Nay, the surprise came from her pouring some strange arcane power into them as well. And yet, there was no apparent change other than the subtle aura of twilight surrounding them. Rather, the burst came from Amun. A flash of lights, blue, silver, gold, and green filled the cavern the moment Amun retracted his hand, seemingly for no reason at all and with no input from him. Regardless, it flowed into almost everything. Me, Iris, Blude and the others. The beast disguised as a drow, the two Vampryic Legionaries, the esteemed priestess, the beasts around us, and much more that I could feel beyond.


    When I turned to face Amun''s equally shocked expression, I swore I saw, felt- knew there was something different about him; only to have my thoughts interrupted by a deep rumbling converging on our position. Rallied, it seemed, by a distant scream growing by the second.

 330 - Planeta Supra

    Executor Muirenn Snyder.


    First Officer of the 7th Legion.


    Species: Half-High Elf/Human.


    Age: 29.


    25th of Trescia, 1492.


    Rhar Kingdoms, Rharian Mountains. Altitude: 2,605 m.


    06:30.


    ***


    We found the end of the divine path set before us with righteous diligence. Hundreds of us, there were. But only a hundred were needed to fill the Order''s ranks if that. The rest would come once new paths had been revealed to them. Thus the rest of us were not of the Order as Lady Nyella was. On the contrary, we were of the Legio Noctis, orbiting the Silverskin Lady faithfully. Yet still, we worked on the other side of our world with righteous diligence.


    As The Order''s purpose was to use Mani''s light and the creatures born from it to guide the lost on their path through life; ours was to use Mani''s light and the creatures born from it to do as the World Weaver did and uplift the oppressed.


    The Order''s members who had grown close to the many types of divine deer became leaders, both in the sense of leading acolytes to the Order and teaching others of leadership. Ours became the Silverhorn Herd- a Holy Army of knights, dames, clerics, paladins, monks, and others.


    The Order''s members who had grown close to Mani''s Moths became councilors who gave guidance to the lost who found the Order; ours filled the staff of our Oracles- divination-focused divisions of bards, clerics, paladins, wizards, and seers for all of the Legions.


    Those of the Order who had grown close to the Cetaceans became educators of all things social, political, and economic; ours became the Blue Pod- a force of might that could operate in the skies and seas alike.


    The Order''s members who bonded with the Cephalopods became healers and therapists for both those they found and the liberated who found them; ours became the Weavers- a divinely arcane group of casters, witches, wizards, sorcerers, and mages-to-be, gifted with the powers of the World Weaver.


    The Order''s members who had grown close to the Luna Wolves, such as Grace Duffy, comprised the Bloodmoon Pack. Holy Destroyers made from barbarians, rogues, and rangers mixed with clerics, paladins, and artificers; made all the more divine by our union with those divine beasts.


    It was as if time had frozen; yet it all happened so quickly. A single wave from the World Weaver''s hand sent the woven worlds cascading into a line above the Mortal Plane. Then the Silver Eye blinked, releasing from its pull, a deluge of divine energy, matter, and beasts. They were before us in an instant. In my case, my eyes were drawn to a massive moose with light blue fur, midnight black eyes, and horns as radiant as Mani itself; where they remained for what felt like days until I realized a sudden change- I could now see myself from on high- from this divine creature''s eyes.


    With reverence, it looked, and so did I at a high elf of 29 years. Still a child, as our God was, and yet my rich brown skin was riddled with the scars born from a life of bondage beneath the heel of gray dwarves. I was still lean and lithe despite my now-enhanced health, but what was more noticeable was my light blonde hair had the same silver hue as my eyes; my eyes and the horns growing from my skull.


    In an instant, that divine creature was gone, but through Mani''s light, we knew what was to come before the ritual, and by his light, they remained with us afterward.


    So it was that when the Silverskin Lady ascended and our God''s Troupe descended, the Order of Worlds dove into a frenzy of documentation. In vivid detail, they used Moonlight to extract memories onto canvases of stone, paper, and entire landscapes. Holy tomes were added to as new hymns were composed. Offerings were made, rituals were performed, and through it all, we the Blooded of the Moon, joined our brethren in prayer as we witnessed this moment of legends.


    We witnessed Mani''s tears cascade into Crater Lake without producing a single ripple. Yet, Mani''s glory spread all the same, preparing perhaps the universe itself for the glorious change to come. There was no telling how far it spread, for the silver light flowed into the very essence of the realm, feeding everything from the waters and stone to the creatures, the citizens, and of course, the Legionaries who explored it.


    We witnessed Mani''s tears run dry and thus we watched the world ease itself from beneath the others to resume its dance in the sky, and for a while, even the humanoids saw the virulent web of blue, slushy mana that persisted across the realms. On the outside, we watched that slushy mana compress and harden into the same sheen as the ice beneath our feet and grow to hold the polish of a fine gem. On the inside, we felt that crystalline energy be compressed evermore until the polish of our mana wells cracked and the energy within became a vibrant tempest of power incarnate. In the beyond, we looked through Mani''s light to see thousands of similar arcane signatures pouring off the scattered Legionaries, and so too could we feel something divine radiating off of our prestigious commanders.


    As if the woven worlds themselves reacted to such energies, they began descending in much the same way as Mani. Rather than infuse the realms with their essence, they released their matter, energies, and creatures onto the Mortal Plane, as if to ensure they didn''t get left behind by the turning tide.


    The first was a banded world of blue, black, and silver gas, perpetually tormented by storms brewed by the legendary Tempest Griffon. As the Jovian World of the 1st Legion, Ruthica Prime descended to look down on the Mortal Plane, spindly fingers of cobalt blue lightning flexed and spasmed as it reached out to touch the heart of Ligin. Her thunder shattered the very skies, forcing the nearby clouds into a flight that chased them far away from Bodhi Shores, almost as if she demanded every pair of eyes have an unbridled view of her sister world''s prominence before departing to dance through the skies.


    Another banded world followed. However, the world of Naubuuru was banded with forests, mountains, deserts, tundras, and ice-caps that made homes for spiritual beasts of an Origami nature. As she blinked, Naubuuru saw fit to exchange her energy, creatures, and the Legionaries sent to train there with that of the high-elven Vrurian Empire, focusing them on the western region of the exotic woods.


    The third world had the most complicated name, for its weaver was most complex, as was his divine duty to the Legions. So it was that the Planetary Resource Extraction, Engineering, and Manufacturing hub- or Preem, released the second-largest deluge behind Mani. From the world of industrial spires covered in dense smog came a wave of divine energy flowing into various kingdoms. Its ripples washed away the old of everything, changing their roads, shifting their cities, and altering their wagons in real time. From the mechanical ring encircling the world, however, came a stampede of colossal undead animals bearing machine natures. Without words or orders, they flowed to the north, south, east, and west, positioning themselves to be found by those who would inhabit their spacious interiors; including us.


    We sent prayers to the industrial world and its weaver as it ascended, increasing both his and our mirth as a massive moth with a metallic carapace of divine metals fluttered to the mountain beneath us; even as it rumbled, shook, and awoke with a feral roar. But our Uma was not to be celebrated this day, so we looked up to see the world of rich forests, sprawling oceans, vast lava lakes, and towering volcanoes releasing a torrent on the realm that saw the magma within the Plane roil. That molten rock, deep below, was like a cluster of rogue waves chopping beneath the bedrock. The surface groaned from the tension, giving a short warning to all attuned to the stone before it seized, buckling from the force of every volcano on the peninsula erupting simultaneously. Through Mani''s Eye, we saw a deluge of crimson matter and energy spitting at the surface as if to object to the lava and ash clawing through the skies, and once such an insult had been unleashed, the volcanic world of Edinda ascended to her place in the sky with a satisfied glint.


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    As the 5th world, Brunhilde, descended on the realm, a golden glow was seen alighting countless individuals who met her gaze. On one hand, those few souls whom the world saw worthy saw versions of themselves heralding the dead to populate these glorious worlds; whereas on the other hand, those who already held such a title were pointed to the countless newly released souls scattered below; unworthy though they may have been.


    Following the world of bronze clouds came Pangaea, a marble of blues, greens, beiges, and whites that sowed chaos in the realm below. From the world of elemental mana, ki, and divine energies came a wave that saw Extreme Mana Zones awaken across the lands. Zones of air and earth, of water and fire; steam and magma; mud and dust; metal and lightning. Exacerbated, these things were, by the massive Uma belonging to the 6th Legion, as it seemed to spawn more and more such zones as it dove beneath Crater Lake and disappeared beneath a colossal whirlpool of its own making.


    At the most auspicious time, the world of our leader descended to shine her radiance on those below. The vibrant blue waters, the forests of holy silver, and the crimson essences of the beasts of our world saw to soothe their hearts; not by virtue of a sense of protection, but by a sense of wonder- a sense of inspiration to dream and follow the ambitions of their hearts, knowing Mani''s light would show them the way. Moreover, we knew it would inspire the oppressed, giving them the strength to take action; or at least the resolve to follow Mani''s guiding light.


    As our Lolea ascended, our sister organization''s world descended to shine her dark radiance on the realm. Occluded in a veil of dark clouds Nue Dracule was, but those clouds absorbed light and emitted it as an incandescent glow that left a beautiful aura around the planet. From those gilded clouds came a tendril of radiant-lined darkness that became corporeal as they descended through the radiant dawn to burrow into places both pure and corrupt. Bakewia, Brybs, Knighilia, Nevstan, Mazi, Kasia; Shujen, and more saw the slightest hints of Gloom masked beneath a radiant veil fall on their lands, opening pits that reached the furthest depths of the Plane so those much darker things may egress.


    The 9th world was a place of turbulent oceans that were pushed and pulled at by the absurdly dense but breathable atmosphere that kept the surface of Oceania hidden from view. As its weaver was the second to be touched by Mani, the world ejected a miniature rendition of the Silver Eye and sent it hurdling into the distant Eastern World Sea off the coast of Rhar, where it impacted with an explosion of silver that flowed into the sea as much as it did himself; causing the waters to glow with a beautiful vibrancy and heed his words zealously.


    Valoo, the final world of turbulent skies followed to bring back the clouds scattered by the first world; albeit at much higher altitudes. From those clouds came creatures of the air, land, and water alike. Birds adapted to long flights, mammals, and even reptiles with mutations to glide or fly. Colossal fish, squid, and whales swam lazily through the skies around them as if amused by their game of predation and prey.


    The final woven world saw the divine moment end in confusion for the Bodhi Peninsula''s natives, for all they saw was a world of golden hills holding itself above Crater Lake before it unceremoniously ascended. But anyone close enough would have seen a cloud of darkness fall from the surface of Nocturne. They would have witnessed that cloud of darkness avert its trajectory and skim the waves, crossing the lake to impact somewhere, or someone, in Shujen. If they possessed the means to see through magical darkness, they would have seen the meteor of darkness impact and release a horde of vampiric, umbral, and draconic creatures upon the realm. But few could sense such things yet, and so they witnessed the divine hour end with the world''s ascent.


    The hour had ended, leaving us with great boons. Yet the work was not done; we could not reflect on them.


    I turned to Lady Nyella at once, only to find she was of the same mind and already approaching me. "Mani has blessed us greatly." She beamed clasping her hands together. As did I. "Boons aside." She continued. "It has created the most auspicious opportunity for us. I will be going to the Principality of Chaulort at once. An acquaintance of the Silverskin Lady is there- another Vampyre."


    "It should be easy for her to see the glory of Mani''s light then." I mused. "As for us, we''ll be going on liberation missions in various locales around the Peninsula. Our priorities are Mazi and Kasia, followed by Brybs and Rhar. Before that, however, we must get acquainted with our Uma."


    "Indeed." Lady Nyella hummed. "I too am excited to see how Sir Edward''s work has improved. I''ll be sure to stay in touch."


    After ensuring our connection over the network was secure, a quick prayer to Mani saw us go our separate ways. By the time I arrived in our portion of the world, the Legionaries-to-be had already gathered our items and Lady Nyella had already descended on her Moonrunner. Thus we followed, leaving the barracks and other structures for our counterparts in the Order, like my mirror, Lawrence Griffon.


    Entering the Uma was like returning to a childhood home. A massive one, shaped like a colossal moth. Stairs built into the leg brought us into the city-sized entrance at the thorax, wherein a homely foyer and staging area waited to greet us, overlooked by a temple and witch hut in the distance. We took to exploring at once, finding a district with our quarters and all the other essentials scattered throughout the abdomen to the rear, with access points to the hangars, spell-launching pods, and other military structures in the wings.


    Post-tour, we took some time to make our claims on real estate and become attuned with the technology crafted for our Legion, our newfound arcane power, and the divine gifts we''d been given to bring us closer to our soon-to-be Goddess, the Silverskin Lady. When all was said and done, mere minutes had passed in the realm outside. Yet every one of us was refreshed and primed to continue our work. Thus we gathered in the great temple of our new home for a sermon before relocating to the docking bays deep in the wings for the final inspection.


    Comprised of members from each denomination within the Order, our Legion''s corps'' were carefully selected to provide support to the other Legions in times of war while retaining the means to wage wars on our own; simultaneously, if need be; not to mention to facilitate our overall purpose. Thus I gazed upon our units with the most pride I''d had since my liberation almost a year ago. I looked them each in their eyes, radiant with silver fire, as I inspected their gear, offering words of encouragement and scriptures from our God as I went down the line. And with a final salute, they were on their way, needing no words to convey their conviction to face the trials ahead.


    The 1st Corps was that of the Crescent Bloodmoon. Led by Vilis and Riordan, members of the Silverhorn Herd like me. They were a standard light combat unit comprised of every class in the book, and like every Blooded of the Moon, they had been trained to be exceptional at everything, and bad at nothing. Of course, we all had a long way to go before we were true Legionaries. Yet they understood that this was one of our last trials before that ultimate test. With praise, they gathered in their round pods of metals and ceramics and were launched out to the lands of Kasia to liberate those taken by orc war bands or goblin scavengers and those unjustly imprisoned by the humanoids they shared their lands with.


    The 2nd Corps was that of the Full Bloodmoon. Led by Alya and Fortuyn, members of the Bloodmoon Pack. They were a standard heavy combat unit that favored larger, heftier versions of the Moonrunner Lady Zakira received months ago. So too, however, did they have a burlier version of the ''powered armor'' worn by many of us; modeled of course, after the legendary armor worn by the Silverskin Lady. With reverence, they eased into their vehicles and descended to the lands of the Mazi Council, hidden under a misty veil until the time came to strike.


    The 3rd Corps was that of the Half Bloodmoon. Led by Volodya and Gail, members of the Blue Pod. They were a rapid response unit that favored weaponized variants of the Moonrunner. With them, they favored striking fast and striking hard, leaving our enemies with not a clue as to where they would strike next whilst also supporting the other corps with reconnaissance, overwatch, and surveillance. With pride, they mounted their vessels and raced to Rhar, using their divine machines to outpace and outmaneuver the wild elves and bring the humans they left to suffer to greater heights.


    The 4th and final Corps was that of the New Bloodmoon. Led by Sanford and Castilla, both Oracles, they were a mage support unit who weaponized the arcane arts of divination and often merged them with other spellcraft, creating spells that attacked the mind with illusions and dreams rather than the body with arcane fire and ice. With humility, they took to the skies, flying to Brybs with the utmost haste to bring those who wished for a better life out of the sinking country and through the warring kingdoms to safety.


    With worship to our Eternal God-Emperor, we saw them off and had our Uma take to the skies while we relocated to the Silverblood Chamber in the head of our vessel, wherein we gazed upon the boundless glory of our God, spread across the Peninsula until we were interrupted by a familiar voice and turned to see our Goddess, not in the flesh, but formed from water, stone, and air animated with Moonlight.


    "Look what I can do now!"

 331 - Lunarians

    Imperator Hogaz.


    9th Legion''s Commander.


    ***


    While Davy Jones, my lore skull, had been making logs, I''d had little time to document the goings on since our foray with Captain Burns.


    His impasse was resolved with a long list of easily satiable demands. Aside from being trained, his first order of business revolved around dealing with his competitors in Knighilia. Neither they nor the pirate crews who ruled the waters of Bakewia''s Shavew Bay had an island to build up and unionize like the 7 Green Eyes had off the coast of Vruria so his policy regarding each crew was to sink or swim. Sink, they wound up choosing, as Burns had quite the reputation in these waters that left longstanding grudges in the eyes of the other Captains. Thus, two weeks later, they were working for him in death, in turn, he was working under Commander Sinoshk. In turn, I got a humorous message from Ed, who was in Shavew with the President, watching the battle from afar. It seemed I had stolen his prey. Yet he thanked me for the job nonetheless and promised to repay the favor in kind.


    Honestly, the promise fell into the depths of my memories once we moved on and Captain Burns began his training. While not as extensive as ours, it was far more streamlined due to the existence of the VoidNet and the many blessings coming from Amun. Thus his final testing was finished before we pulled into the Great Ligin Bay on the 2nd of Trescia.


    Named after the knightly kingdom of griffon riders, it was more of an ocean than a bay, as it had three smaller bays scattered around the coast of a small sea; one to the southeast on the shores of Ligin, another bay further north past the Vrurian border, and the final one to the west of that, where the Vrurian capital of Maneas sat. The Bakewian border sat some 100 kilometers west, where it straddled the Great Bay''s entrance with the Rharian Kingdom, some 700 kilometers south.


    With all that said, Bakewia was the one who owned the relatively large isle, despite it being closer to Ligin''s shores. At 200 kilometers in diameter, it was filled to the brim with shipyards, dry docks, and other such buildings to serve the maritime needs of Ligin''s western reaches. Due to Ed''s prominence and Amun''s communications enchantments being spread across the Protectorate and beyond, gaining a dock at the isle was trivial, with us being approved before they even came into view. But of course, few things were that easy.


    The ship would have taken up too much space at the docks, and I didn''t want to spend the time needed for the tugboats to maneuver us into position, so I had the Moonsliver dive and hold its position near the sea floor a few kilometers from the island. Thus beginning our period of leave.


    Or so we thought.


    The moment I left the helm, a sharp pain pinched the backside of my eyes, releasing a pinpoint of searing silver light to expand and occlude my vision as the feeling pushed forward. As it left my eyes I felt as if my mind had been ripped from my body and split in two. One half went south, past the bay, across, the lands of Ligin, and over the rolling hills to show me another of those strange monoliths, set before an arcane forest overlooking the sea. The other drifted northeast, to a similar obelisk near the Vruria-Ligin border. And yet, there was more. Glimpses and visions of my ship completely crewed, and other ships. Or rather, orders to increase our numbers to fill our incoming ships.


    Ships just as advanced as mine.


    As was becoming the norm, I snapped to and realized I''d been standing and staring into space for upwards of half an hour. And not just me. Vexx, Seadog, Stronghull, and everyone else had the same maddened gaze as me before they scrambled, dragging their crews to their skiffs, submersibles, and speeders to various parts of the bay and beyond.


    Smiling, I connected back to the island to request a dock and spread the advert created by Davy to the areas surrounding the island. Then my attention returned to the Moonsliver around me. As I moved to the docking bays, I felt a strong sense of irony creep up from behind me. I had long since grown used to the many different faces belonging to the seven Captains within this ship, knowing they would one day separate and return to theirs. Only now, when the chambers and halls of this grand ship were vacated, did I see the irony of gaining an array of fleet commanders while having no junior sailors.


    That was soon to change, however. Thus I imagined her when complimented with a full crew of 2,300 sailors pulled from the 12 or so cities scattered across the oceanic bay. As I entered the Moontear, I imagined her complimented with a full crew of 68. Though, in a way, it already was. Undying shadows, pristine zombies, and metallic skeletons forever manned the bridge, galley, and engineering deck. But that simply would not do when I would one day bring esteemed guests on board. Even if I were to replace them with those machines, I would need living beings among my crew, for the way of our Legion was to do as the locals did.


    We were pirates through and through. But in these waters, where navies reigned supreme, we were sailors and marines of the Noctis Grand Fleet. Or, at the very least, Noctis Privateers. Naturally, our flag reflected that. In pirate waters, our flag was the typical crossed swords and skull, but the skull had a silver serpent snaking through its mouth and eye sockets to bite its tail to make the infinity sign. In all other waters, the skull and swords would fade into the background, leaving only the sign with a blue ocean in the left loop and verdant lands in the right; making our colors silver, ocean blue, kelp green, and sea green.


    Such colors worked in tandem with the work of the other Legions to allow the Commanders to sail unabated. From my fancy chair in my cabin, I could see Commander Riptide in a submersible, leagues away from the Moonsliver. As his crew had done before, they were scouring the sea floor, searching for and tinkering with sunken ships that had been claimed by the life below the waters. Only this time, devices, enchantments, or magic were used to shrink, disappear, or repair them wholly. Through another looking glass, I could see Commanders Seadog and Woodgrain race through the waters or skies to the southwest to convince the knight-hopefuls of Ligin to put their skills to use in differing ways.


    The former docked at the city of Vabi to organize a demonstration of her fast attack craft by spreading her ManaNet call sign to every tavern in town and having them watch her raid the bandits who ''claimed'' the territory of the two rivers straddling their city. Meanwhile, Commander Woodgrain landed his planes deeper in Ligin to convince the wanna-be griffon riders to fly his beasts of metal instead. Through yet another looking glass, I could see Commanders Sinoshk and Lu-Lu Stubbs take their tenders due east, where they quickly came across those of their kind who''d set up shop in some ancient ruins.


    They took as many as were willing to go and left the rest to wait or go about their lives while they sailed up the Bokeringley River to enter the Khuld Wilds of Northern Ligin. The two cities at opposing ends of the river''s fork served as the largest source of recruitment for the 9th Legion; both civilians and legionaries. There were so many that Mani had to guide their march to the ruins they passed earlier so they could keep up with the tenders. Even then, however, it took them three days to reach the ruins at the shore.


    In the time since, Commanders Vexx and Ragnuron sailed out of the bay to retrace our steps to the northwestern edge, where they docked at the Bakewian port city of Newalstran. Set on the southernmost corner of a peninsula, it quickly became the new Bakewian maritime capital once the pirates Captain Burns killed first infested Shavew Bay. Dwarves, gnomes, and high-elves alike flocked to the lands, seeking to make a fortune in building and enchanting ships; or simply sampling the exotic wares they carried. So it was that the two commanders saw many types of individuals join their fleets; and like me, be guided to the most obscure places.


    By the fourth day since I left the Moonsliver- the 6th of Trescia, I had sailed to the northeastern bay of Vruria, entering the Szoramelsa River to sail some 300 more kilometers upstream. A short swim and a trek through the dense jungle brought me to my destination shortly thereafter. Another monolith of off-white stone set inside a crater of onyx or perhaps obsidian, just like the last.


    Unlike the last, I unfurled a long sheet of parchment and rubbed each portion of its surface with a piece of charcoal, ingraining the exotic words onto the paper flawlessly. Such an endeavor took me hours. Yet the flash of silver light that followed saw me writhe and squirm as my mind filled with visions depicting me casting spells, thoughts of me performing skills, and memories of knowledge that was not my own. I felt my reaction to the sight of something grandiose, and then¡­ nothing. Only an exotic landscape of black skies and white ground I could not focus on. And¡­ a message.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    {Message From Imperator Pascal: ''As thanks for your help in Shujen Bay, you''re the first to get one of these. I also made some upgrades to your fleets. Enjoy.''}


    Again, I remained in place for possibly hours before I stirred, noticing the smell of something¡­ familiar before I noticed something was missing. Both from my senses and the Net''s Industry tab, the Moontear was¡­ gone.


    I felt as if my heart leaped out of my chest, pulling me through the jungle into the river with a steadily quickening pace, only to fall unmoving once I found it was truly gone.


    I remained stunned in the water for far too long. My lungs began to burn and my eyes began to bulge, forcing me to race into the reeds to pluck one in my mouth and have the ambient mana take hold of it, transforming the water that flowed through it into breathable air.


    With several deep breaths taken, my nerves were thoroughly calmed, allowing my thoughts to return to those memories and visions while my senses latched on to that familiar something I smelled. In doing so, I felt the eldritch lunacy within me gather around my hands and feet in ways that propelled me downriver. Yet... it was almost as if I was being guided; like the silver light ebbing from my limbs had latched onto something and sought to connect with it.


    After a few hours and some light encounters with wild beasts, I found her. However, the Moontear was¡­ different. Alive, almost.


    She still had the shape that made her namesake. She was still like a teardrop laid on its side. Only, she no longer bobbed atop the water. She stood on dry land, supported on four wide flippers of metal and ceramic. A hard shell covered her back, yet it was¡­ amorphous. Misty. Thus I could see the flybridge and decks I was familiar with hiding beyond the veil. Moreover, the tapered bow was the same, yet was now extended with a bulbous, head-shaped pod at the front that turned to look at me with two circular windows before a seamless maw lowered, revealing stairs and a hefty metal door.


    As I stepped inside, illusory words, blueprints, and other information popped up all across my vision. Not from Mani, however. From NoxNet.


    {Vessels Synchronized: 1/2: Beta-Class Uma, Model: Misty Shell Sky Turtle: Moontear Mk III. 2/2: Alpha-Class Uma, Model: Sky Dolphin: Moonsliver Mk II.}


    I couldn''t believe my eyes. Everything about the ship was the same, yet different. She was still 41 meters long with a beam of 14, but only when the head was extended. It still had my cabin, an officer''s rec room, and the main bridge beneath the flybridge. But everything was protected beneath a shell of silvery mist. The main deck still boasted the galley, mess hall, saloon, and quartermaster''s suite. However, they had all been connected into a streamlined chain that began at the ''mouth'' from which I entered; and so too were those connected to the lower and sub-deck. Even the crew cabins in the lower deck were the same, yet much more elegant in their design, boasting organic-looking furniture that ranged from horizontal ribcages for shelves to silver mushrooms that conjured looking glasses of silver light.


    The tender garage and engineering bay in the sub-deck, on the other hand, had been filled with an array of enchantments of Ed''s design and mana. In the former, forcefields kept the skiffs, grav-bikes, and sky skiffs suspended in their places while cranes of the same nature facilitated their ingress and egress. Many of them were powered by the force mana as well, if not by torch. Torch enchantments virtually filled the engineering bay, powering everything from the forges and heaters to the ovens and ''thrusters.'' As did Amun''s divine mana funnel, store, and sort the resources on top of automating virtually every process in the ship.


    To that end, I no longer needed the undying shadows he imposed on me and thus they were gone. Including Neil. But of course, there were others to take their place, and there''d be much more to come. Thus I was not alone when I emerged from the mouth of the Szoramelsa River to witness something grand.


    Ships.


    7 ships that dwarfed mine in terms of scale and power. Mine and perhaps any other ship on the Mortal Plane.


    Being underwater already, the first ship I saw was the closest submersible and was among the smaller ships. At 792 meters, however, it was hardly small. Moreover, it appeared like an emperor penguin in the same way mine appeared like a sea turtle. Albeit a penguin with a short mast protruding from its dorsal side. Appearance aside, the submersible, named Baigowlah was partially surfaced next to a much larger ship. and I didn''t need to surface to see whose it was. Not when I could look across the Net and see a veritable army of orcs gathered around the shores overlooking the exotic ship anchored next to Commander Lu Lu Stubs'' submarine.


    Naturally, she had an equally large if not larger army of goblinoids pledging their loyalty to her. But they and their ship seemed much less foreboding than that of the orcish Commander Sinoshk. The reason being, that she was a mind-breaking 1.4 kilometers-long crocodile. Karanja was a saltwater crocodile of a battleship with four massive claw-like paddles at the base of a towering hull lined with 10 decks of portholes and bulkheads. The scutes lining each side of the back and tail contained long-range naval spell cannons larger than those found on the Moonsliver, growing larger and longer as they reached the massive cannon at the tail; making a total of 87 such guns. To top it off, 56 vertical arcane missile launchers were contained in the two rows of smaller scutes running down the back; all while leaving enough space for a massive deck running down the spine and twin bridges within the ''head.''


    The next ship I saw was further in the bay, at around my depth; Peng, Commander Riptide''s eel. Through my ship''s eyes, I could see the ship''s massive head chowing down on sunken ships while, through the Net, I could see materials and people passing down a long conduit to maintain or operate the 7 circular modules of the truss-like design. Some were scanning, others were scavenging or refining, mining, or drilling for oils. Each of them was 120 meters, making 1.2 kilometers of prime industrial space for our growing organization.


    Above Peng was something a little more tame. A 1.12 kilometers-long submersible corvette that boasted many docking bays on her spotted hull. Being made from a leopard seal and affectionately named Labrador, it was the perfect vessel for Commander Seadog''s fast attack fleet, as that was essentially all it held. The same couldn''t be said for the many-armed behemoth floating next to it, however.


    Halstarr was a full kilometer in length but varied in width due to the many orientations the giant sea otter of a ship could position its arms. If that wasn''t enough, the otter''s ''stomach'' was paved over with strips and fields of stone for the amphibious planes of Commander Rickety Woodgrain.


    Quite fittingly, the most visually appealing ship belonged to Commander Vexx. At one meter short of a kilometer, Tanstaafl wasn''t the fastest on or under the water, but the swan-turned-destroyer could take to the skies quickly and fly far to deploy her marines anywhere. The biggest ship of all, however, belonged to the dwarven Commander Ragnuron Stronghull.


    A Stronghull he indeed had, as his ship- his Alpha-Class Uma was made from a Stone Alligator Snapping Turtle. Now, she was both a dreadnought and a veritable dwarven mountain fortress set to drift in the sea until perpetuity; as the sole spire atop its shell that protruded the waters was a whopping 1.74 kilometers in diameter, its main body was far too big to dock at any port. Not that she needed to, with a total of thirteen mountainous spires bordered by deep dales spread across the shell and a volcanic heart, the Sea Mountain, Oeklinge, would power through the World Seas for eons. Or rather, under them.


    Of course, I wasn''t left out either. I returned to the Moonsliver to see it had not only become a Sky Dolphin but that it had grown to a length of 1.3 kilometers and surfaced itself on the choppy waters, where it was surrounded by a vast flotilla of ships that ranged from fishing boats and merchant ships to naval flagships.


    It seemed Amun altered my advertisement a little. Or at the very least, made sure the appropriate people saw it and were guided to me or the other commanders. As things went, we spent two weeks in the Great Bay of Ligin, with the advertisement being broadcasted in taverns, inns, street corners, and various programs the entire time. We departed with our new crew and citizens on the 22nd of Trescia and weighed anchor far off the coast near the border of Chaulort and Rhar naught 3 days later.


    Hidden beneath a misty shroud, the citizens got settled and the sailors got up to speed while the Commanders came to terms with the many toys Ed installed in our ships. Meanwhile, the Doppelgangers of Riptide and Lu Lu Stubs went forward to scout the area ahead while I backtracked to find the last monolith spotted by Mani''s eye.


    While it stood at the very edge of the cliff I was to climb, set beyond a sacred elven forest, the monolith was the last thing I saw when I turned my gaze upward. First, I saw the worlds woven by us founders of the Legions, cascading the energy of a dozen divine worlds across the lands they overlooked.


    It poured like rain, waking the very spirit of the lands themselves, bringing life where there was not; bringing death where it did not belong.


    It flooded, uplifting the spirits of sentient and beast alike, improving the bodies of one and the minds of the other.


    It swept through me and the ocean in waves, influencing every aspect of our being and making us fall to the maddening whispers, visions, memories, and thoughts of the God who ruled over us. Then, it faded. Yet something remained.


    It remained as the mist in my mind faded to reveal the choppy sea.


    It remained. Both in the seas and in me.


    ¡ª¡ª


    [Blessing Received: Imperial Lunarian Crown.]


    [The touch of divinity that has been seeded in you has synergized with the Eldritch Lunacy you have been bestowed, setting you on the path to becoming the Emperor of the World Seas, in turn making you a sorcerer of the Lunacy that merges the fluids within and above the World Seas. The Crown makes you capable of communing with the creatures of the World Sea, no matter how deep and dangerous they may be.]

 332 - The Keepers

    Executor Bowen.


    First Officer of the 6th Legion.


    Species: Human.


    Age: 14.


    25th of Trescia, 1492.


    Enzithl. Central Nytholon Wildlands, Vrurian Empire.


    07:30.


    ***


    I felt honored, knowing the several hundred of us followed in the same footsteps as Master Peter. Just as he was a slave, so too were the fifteen of us; and while the Eternal Emperor wasn''t directly responsible for freeing him, he was responsible for saving him.


    Therein lay the reason for Master Peter boasting one of the highest populations of native Eomen among the Legions; behind Madame Opal and Lady Zakira, of course. But unlike them, we were not pious. Rather, we were eternally grateful for our freedom and sought to make the most of it by learning, exploring, and liberating those once like us. That and another reason was responsible for Master Peter''s Doppelganger- Master Retep, as we called him, leading us into the dry plains of the Kasian Empire upon our descent to the Mortal Plane.


    The Fighting Empire was strife with war and oppression, which in turn led to the wrongly imprisoned and the enslaved. So too, however, was Kasia home to the oasis Master Peter created last year during his mid-year trials. The winter that had since come made it take tendays instead of days to find. Yet, therein sat an opportunity for us to develop the skills needed to thrive on the surface. Therein lay an opportunity to train in battle and liberate those like us. Therein lay an opportunity to practice the basic aspects of the Monastic Way Master Peter was studying out in Shujen. Once we found the oasis, therein lay an opportunity for Master Retep to raise his tower, for us to build our settlement in a ring around it, and, in turn, develop our arts and culture; and practice.


    Therein we became the Keepers, when such a small act grew into one of the most renowned practices in the Empire.


    It all started when we began learning about ecology. Just as the Master had done last year, we ventured into the wilds with glass jars to make various types of vivarium. We started small, of course, with terrariums taken from the winter forests, grasslands, and mountains. As time passed, we scaled up more and more, incorporating them into our desks and tables before aquariums, paludariums, and other such structures were being fashioned into the walls of our buildings.


    This combined with our knowledge gained from below and the technology gifted to us from above, coupled with the locals we''ve taken up as acolytes and the information spread across the networks, saw us learn about the peculiar nature of the Bodhi Tree''s flora and fauna, and how they tied to the seasons.


    In a sense, the Bodhi Tree only experienced summer and winter, which could last from months to years. This winter, however, was brought on by a combination of the jet streams and currents blowing in from the World Sea and Zaraxus forming his lair stone in Shujen Bay. As his deathly cold leaked out into Crater Lake, what was normally a coastline of swamps and temperate to tropical rainforests adapted to an expanse of cold bogs and evergreen trees; the savannas and deserts further in the mainlands turned into tundras and taigas, and all the flora and fauna within adapted accordingly.


    By then, a month had passed and it was time to move. The Master shrank the Temple down to the size of a finger ring and led us on an arduous journey north, around the Eastern Kasian Mountains. Rather than take the roads cut into the easternmost mountain, however, we descended into the Redagh Rift to brave 271 kilometers of frigid dry air, mounds of rusted metals, and fields of compacted snow. Just as we did in the frozen desert, we began clearing out an area for the Master to raise his Temple, and then we trained in the more advanced aspects of the Omni-Elemental Way while our clones flocked to find yet more like-minded souls.


    The dispersal of our enchanted equipment elevated our craft and culture to the next level shortly thereafter, allowing us to study not only the barren landscape''s ecology but also its history. That history was centered around none other than the Republic of Redagh. Poachers were a near-constant threat. And with no need for the weapons and armors of steel they carried, they elected to toss them down into the rift so the travelers below could take them. In the past, they had. At one point in time, however, the scavengers stopped coming and they were left to rust in silence.


    A thousand years of such a practice saw the desert be compacted into a badlands, and then further be tainted to nearly a wasteland. That left us little to both recruit or battle, but there were some outliers still; poachers and outlanders living rough where few dared travel. As such, most if not all of our time went toward practicing our various crafts and moving down the paths of our future classes. With the power of enchantments, were were capable of creating more building-sized vivariums that were both heated and cooled to prove the theories born from our studies, and therein sparked the open-ended question from our Legion''s Engineer, Kunala, that changed everything.


    She wondered what would happen should a wise rock be merged with a vivarium. And so, being as curious as we were, the Master shrank the temple down to a ring and, a tenday later, tossed it inside a desert terrarium.


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    When the temple reformed, all we bore witness to was the jar increasing to a height of ten or so meters before taking on an opaque hue, almost like marble. The jar that had once been sealed now contained an airlock-style entrance at the top, leading us down into a miniature world with a dome of solid sky. While desert occupied most of the several hundred meters of space within, the center was dominated by the deep oasis the Master created last year, straddled by the temple and ringed by the structures we laboriously constructed.


    The end of that second month saw a change in our overall way of life. The Master granted wise rocks to us 15 head acolytes, then pointed us up the mountain with instructions to use manipulated air to ascend the rough terrain. Therein cemented home the benefit of teamwork, allowing us to seamlessly form and finalize the six ranks of subordinates we led. Yet, throughout the journey and after our arrival, it was demanded that we be just as capable on our own. Not just in survival and the Omni-Elemental Way, but in our culture as well.


    Again, we made terrariums. Only this time, we 15 head acolytes led our many subordinates to different parts of the mountain, where we constructed temples akin to the ones of earth and water we made already. Temples of air and fire; dust, lava, and mud; mist, steam, and plasma. Again, we sealed them in massive terrariums before fusing our wise rocks with them, reducing them to portable sizes. Together, and yet separately, we led our many subordinates back to the monastery to find Master Retep standing amidst the Legion''s Prime Lore Skull, Firma.


    From Master Retep''s eyes came recognition and a hundred other things aimed not at us but the largest 11 woven worlds drawing themselves into a line above Mani, with many more orbiting them still. Pangaea, our home world, was the 6th among them, right after the worlds of brass halls, volcanic falls, industrial rings, divine forests, and undying storms.


    From the eyes of Firma came a solid field of light that depicted Master Peter meditating atop a strange glowing symbol in the center of a chamber of glowing roots. Cuts, bruises, and other wounds reminiscent of a life in bondage lined his body, hardly covered by the rags and thick beads he wore around his neck and wrists. Yet, his face radiated utter peace as the ethereal fires of his ki billowed around him. The violet ambiance splashed across the calm of his face was suffused with the blue-white light of a seemingly solid totem pole standing directly before him. Multi-faced eyes, mandibles, and antennae of roiling blue fire stared at him with the calmness of stone, supporting the totems of a lion, a hawk, a cobra, a dragon, and a phoenix atop its head.


    Across from it was a pillar of water that ascended and disappeared without end, morphing and shifting as it rose to take the shape of a starfish, crab, sailfish, sea turtle, octopus, and orca.


    To his right was a violent twister of spinning totems that spread the squeaks of a bat, the drumming wings of a hummingbird, the caws of a raven, the calls of a crane, the haws of a vulture, and the screech of an owl.


    To his left was an earthen totem of an elephant supporting a giraffe, which itself supported a horse, a gorilla, a bear, and finally a badger; all shifting unstably in the tune of the Master''s breath.


    Beyond that elemental square, the Master''s ki dug into the chamber''s tiles, drawing a multi-colored hexagon with what seemed to be elemental shrines of fused elements standing at the corners. Capstone monoliths of dust, lava, and mud remained standing despite their constantly flowing surfaces while spherical ponds of swirling steam, churning mist, and roiling plasma dipped and bobbed in place.


    Aside from that, there was only the Master himself, sitting as still as undead while the ethereal fires of his ki sank into those totems, monoliths, and shrines as it ebbed and flowed into the beads as something purer.


    As the seconds passed to minutes, they began to grow and glow, those beads. First subtly, then with such intensity that it drowned out the violet ambiance and sent the totems into a frenzy. Blue flames licked the roots above while water splashed throughout the floor. The monoliths hissed, the shrines shuddered and the totems spun themselves into a dance; all but the earth and air totems.


    They danced atop their points from the energy, tipping their towering tops from their skittering as if they were desperate to free themselves from the circle. They sought to go down and only compressed their totems or distorted their sounds beyond recognition. And so, they ascended above the square, glowing with a gray light as evermore ki ebbed into them, releasing evermore ki to flow back into the Master''s beads; until they could hold no more.


    The resulting surge of energy seared the chamber with the dull light. Yet, through its radiance, we could witness those totems be separated from their poles and cracked into three shards that reformed under the influence of the turbulent energy. The dying of the light saw those totem poles of air and earth sinking to their former positions, leaving two identical copies of each pole held in the metaphorical hands of the latent energies; and they smashed them.


    The totem of earth smashed into the earthen totem as the air totem rocketed into the totem of air, crushing and shearing them in a dazzling display of multi-colored sparks, dancing above Master Peter''s head as if they were excited by the violent buzz rattling the chamber, accompanied by howls of wind and the grating solo of stone grinding against stone. Yet still, elements sang. The groans of grating stone shifted to a screeching protest of shearing metal as the earthen mass darkened and compressed into a hardened obelisk. The howls of the wind slicing itself apart arced in pitch to the pops, hisses, and clicks accompanying the blue streaks discharging off the ethereal obelisk''s peak.


    When Master Peter opened his eyes to gaze upon his obelisks of metal and crystal; lightning and noble gasses, Firma shut theirs, closing the channel on the Net and in turn drawing our eyes to Mani, just as it opened with a divine light.


    "Congratulations, Peter." Our Lore skull moved its mouth. But it was the Eternal Emperor who spoke, and in ways that made our spirits stir. "Or rather, congratulations, Imperator Peter Boyd, and the Sixth Legion. The Keepers."


    Those words caused a disturbance in reality and our spirits alike. The mana within both condensed. The ambient mana to the density of diamond and the wells in our spirits to arcana itself. Yet both were tame compared to the beacons of divine power that erupted across the Peninsula; and from them- our Imperators, power flowed.


    Into us- the first Noctis Legionaries, such power flowed. From the depths of the Darkworld in Shujen, a silent tune rippled to lap against our spirits, awakening within us, the Keepers, the 6th Legion, the powers and abilities of He we were sworn to follow. It was not an affinity core to awaken in us, however, it was closer to a warlock''s eldritch ability, the evolution in our spirits, human and non-human alike, that granted us a stronger means to manipulate the elements.


    The Omni-Elements.

 333 - The Vulcans

    Imperator Roheisa Deapou.


    4th Legion, the Vulcans.


    25th of Trescia, 1492.


    Mount Hertham. Kasian Empire, Southern Kasian Mountains. Altitude: 3,605 m.


    08:00.


    ***


    I thought I knew the power of the Vulcanox. There was no way I could not, after all. The Vulcanox was my heritage just like the darkness was Amun''s. My father''s fathers lived as nomads, following the herds around the metallic volcanoes of Phaegrath. All of our tribes did, remaining to our volcanoes of copper, tin, electrum, and¡­ Iron.


    When the Vulcanox left their volcanoes, the tribes warred and raided. When the Vulcanox returned, they knew peace. Then my father met the Necro King, Everandus Cole. Or rather, the Necro King revealed himself to my father after observing him for days.


    Their friendship saw the Necro King leave his home as my father was exiled. Thus they taught each other their ways. My father taught the Necro King how to live rough as a nomad; how to raid, and how to rage. The Necro King made my father literate and taught him etiquette and chivalry. From there, our fates were sealed; mine and Amun''s. I was a Barbaric Princess, raised with the teachings of a royal dame while living in the Iron Mountain. The blood of the Vulcanox flowed through me, thus I knew the power that would awaken in me. Or¡­ I thought I knew.


    After all, I''d never seen my father erupt.


    So it was, when I erupted, I knew not the extent of the damage I had caused. In truth, during or after, I knew nothing at all. All I knew was the roiling field of red that consumed me after eating the Vulcanox heart. It poured down my throat with the first bite, turning into something like alchemical fire as it consolidated within my spirit as something that beat against the inside of my body, demanding release.


    Only in hindsight- only through NoxNet- did I see myself in vivid detail.


    I dashed. I thrashed. I bashed. Into Elurial, I charged, ramming her through the caldera wall with enough force to send her tumbling down the mountain to her apparent death. Having no other target, I began swinging at the sloshing magma and falling stones I perceived as threats; causing the Vulcan Heart in my spirit to beat harder and hotter. I sank to the bottom of the hot spot I created and bashed my fists against everything around me, cracking the very summit apart so as to let my fury pour down the face like molten tears of steel. However, the steel volcano was not allowed to cry.


    On the contrary, the stroke of divinity connecting me to my woven world took hold, guiding the erupted mass into the skies to add new lands to my world; unbeknownst to me. All I knew was the red field until the lack of stimulation saw the Vulcan Heart stop beating and freeze over. Two days later, the pain of a thousand needles woke me from the red field turned black. I found myself in the middle of a boiling caldera, staring at the night sky from the highest volcano on the Peninsula. I stared at the worlds woven by my friends and by me. There, those worlds spoke to me, telling the tale of Amun''s bottled rage days after everyone else.


    It was pain, that tale. Pain incarnate. A story of trauma that made my rage seem like a petty, childish temper tantrum.


    It took some time, but I pushed through it, rising to my feet to shift my gaze over the lava field around me. Only to find I was not alone. My Doppelganger had returned from Mazi, and she came with friends. Allies. Subordinates for my headquarters. Corps'' for my Legion. Civilians for my world above. So too did she come with familiar faces- Slate, Amethyst, Corundum, Darekhil Mountainpike, and their subordinates.


    Moreover, Elurial climbed the mountain again, this time with a convoy of Kasian natives trailing behind her bolstered strides. I thought her to be angry but¡­ she wasn''t. On the contrary, she was infatuated; both with my power and the grace she received from Amun. Thus she birthed the same infatuation in her followers, refining and polishing it as the weeks went on.


    I knew not how I felt about it. Being worshiped was¡­ strange. Embarrassing, at first. And then¡­ burdensome. If a princess''s work was diminutive compared to that of an empress, being an empress was diminutive when compared to¡­ this. Those gathered by my Doppelganger aside, their eyes gleamed as if I were as legendary as my father when we were first introduced. Every action I took was regarded with reverence, no matter how mundane. I knew not how to react to any of it. I only knew it would increase alongside our numbers. Thus I felt as if everything I did had to be perfect. That, however, was the problem. I was building not just my subguild but my empire, thus I had to decide what perfect even meant, and I wasn''t the planning type like Amun. So, I did what felt perfect to me.


    As I knew back home, I hardened the caldera, leaving irrigation channels and drainage pipes carved in the surface before spreading seeds and saplings throughout the space with my subordinates. Elurial joined shortly after, freeing me to descend into the magma chamber. With her members, she forested the caldera complex and went on to inhabit it by living in their vehicles full time, treating them like mobile tents in the sense that she''d drive someplace new every few days; a trait everyone seemed to adopt as time passed; even me.


    I did not pick up such a practice until much later, however. It was the Goliaths who fully embraced the culture first. Naturally, Corundum was the first of them. Having occupied the snow-capped peak overlooking the caldera, her people forever remained on the move. Following after the massive goats native to the region like my ancestors did the Vulcanox. So it was they took a liking to Ed''s inventions. Particularly the Meep- a squat, beetle-like self-driving wagon Ed named as an acronym I cared not to learn. They fully integrated them into their lives, first by learning to build and maintain them, then by upgrading them to hold their arms and armor, beds, fireboxes, and all other things needed to survive in the outlands. Like wolves, they roamed the summit in packs of their Meeps until they found a suitable ''den'' to park around. Then the workings of Corundum''s subculture would fall into play, wherein she would create daily, weekly, and monthly challenges for her subordinates and invite the entirety of the Legions to compete and compare their scores.


    Being the strongest and thus being the leader of the four Goliaths, those practices slowly but surely bled down the mountain. Amethyst, being the second strongest, took up residence just beneath the frost line, where she first surprised me by carving a Vulcanox Totem for her Barbaric Path and dedicating herself to it wholly. On top of that, she did as Corundum did and created a long list of games to test and train her subordinates. As fighters, Kaolinite and Slate took different routes entirely, further developing our culture. They learned to create and operate Meeps like the others; albeit highly armored ones. However, they made them in such a way that they could be linked together and detached seamlessly, enabling their so-called modular castles to roam the volcano''s base and the surrounding dales. Whereas the former set up an elaborate Dueling Ring, the latter established a Champion''s Arena and filled it with annexes and dungeons dedicated to every skill he could think of, and once done, Twilight graced both of them, enabling the competitors to fight and face challenges to the grisly end and walk away stronger and with more ''V Points.'' Whatever those even were.


    As for Darekhil Mountainpike, he and his subordinates carved their home into the caldera''s inner wall, then constructed a network of spacious tunnels and caverns extending down to the mountain''s base. There, a fair bit above the magma chamber, they established our industry, if only to construct those armored ''tanks,'' as Amun called them. But the ones they built had articulating legs and round bodies that made them look like large spiders capable of wading through magma.


    In the interim, I was below, in the castle town I made from my lesser wise rock and the magma chamber. In truth, I knew not the outcome of doing so, but my tower could have been retrieved without much effort and so I tried. The yield was unlike anything I could have imagined.


    The wise rock absorbed the material in the upper portions of the chamber, clearing out an anatomically correct heart-shaped space that was then sealed by what appeared to be a crystalline wall, double-layered to sandwich a lake of magma between them. The interior walls of the crystal bubble were then filled with layered steel to create halls, staircases, wings, and rooms; all riddled with mana-filled pipes and conduits that kept the temperature comfortable levels. Therein I worked for the next few months, teaching the subordinates about the ways of a regal barbarian just as the others were doing with their ways above. Just like the others were doing on the surrounding peaks, my Doppelganger used her free time to recruit many more outlanders.


    So it was, things proceeded without issue until today, the 25th of Trescia.


    It began like any other day. My Executor, Aruna Alfarr, gathered the rest of my headquarters staff on the practice field for our morning training, only for an announcement from on high to cut any practice short. Thus we ascended to the caldera to see the woven worlds of Eotrom stacked on top of Mani, pouring its essence over the realms.


    Within seconds of that silver field sweeping over the land, the ambient mana rose to a density of ice, and then on to diamond while the mana wells of my many subordinates swelled to the same point. One by one, the mana cycling through them began to slow before their spiritual organs cracked like mine, causing the once-still energy to roil and churn with a vibrancy it never had before.


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    Arcana made me feel like what I had before was a trickle of mana; like I''d been drinking dirty, tainted water my entire life and had taken my first drink out of a spring. I felt like I was positively bursting with energy- like I could do anything; like my magic could reach anywhere. Which, I supposed was true. However, I could not ponder it, for the influx of energy saw the other worlds repeat Mani''s actions, bringing great change to the peninsula.


    Knowing not was coming, I sent the order to reform our towers at once while the rest of us watched the native goats, bears, lynxes, and other creatures enlarge to massive frames or become more feral, dire versions of their species. Others began to wreathe their frames in magic, taking on earthen, metallic, fire, and molten attributes while a few rare creatures looked our way and spoke. Yet, for all its glory, it was a mere prelude- a catalyst to the destruction we all seemed to be waiting for.


    Mana had begun to shift, change, and condense into Extreme Mana Zones all across the Peninsula. This caldera wound up being no different in that regard. Mana splintered space itself, opening gaping wounds that bled molten fluids over the lands. Lightning cracked the skies with enough intensity to shatter stone with its thunderous roar, adding more material to be melted and added to the roiling mix. Yet even that was not the end. My woven world spreading my magic throughout the realm coupled with the arcane energies of these creatures saw an evolution in the Extreme Mana Zone as well. Just as our Mana Wells cracked, so too did the volcano, and the Extreme Mana Zone formed around it, explosively erupting with no warning. All but the strongest of us were forced off the face and thus were left to stare at the sheer pillar of lava and molten steel, rising higher than I could believe.


    {WARNING: Arcane Anomaly detected. Designation: Calamitous Arcane Territory.}


    "You can''t be serious!"


    Gritting my teeth, I leaped into action, producing a magnetic field to rip me into the skies. Yet it was far stronger than I anticipated. My first officers unwittingly came along for the ride, and so too did a significant portion of the highly ferrous ground along with a stream of molten steel, peeling off the rising falls; unbeknownst to me, for I was concentrating on grabbing hold of the immense volumes of lava ejecting into the sky.


    Alfer Umis, my mage, reported the stream approaching at a ridiculous pace, even as I raced to the eruption''s apex. Having no time to request assistance from me, the half-elf reached out to grasp the oncoming stream and found she had utter control of it. Like a human manipulating the elements, she flattened and elongated the molten mass into a plate and cooled it with arcane water before pulling it to our feet.


    While grasping the lava was easier than ever before, I had never handled this much at once. Thus it required all of my focus to draw the column into a roiling heart suspended above me; and it required even more focus not to lose myself in despair as my body rotated, bringing my eyes across the many burning columns ascending across the Peninsula. Volcanoes erupted all along the mountains bisecting the Southern Peninsula, splintering ancient stone and sending untold volumes of ash and dust into the skies along with the crimson pillars. They stretched from the highest peak on which we sat, overlooking Redagh, to the end of the mountain range at the border of the Rharian and Ligin Kingdoms to the far west. The Kasian-Rharian-Chaulortian Tri-Point was hit as well. As was the sole mountain range to the north, within Vruria, near the borders of Mazi and Nevstan.


    Feeling as if my mana output had at least quintupled, I guided my officers in grasping hold of the roiling heart above using their newfound abilities while I sustained it with my breath, infused with mana. With my hands, I reached out to those distant columns to the north and south and guided my mana down into those twin streams until I found their hearts, and began pumping them furiously. The columns bloomed, rising in heat and radiance until they threatened to out-compete the sun itself and incinerate everything around them. Winter was pushed back, alongside the fault lines spanning the Kasian-Chaulort border, South-Central Rhar, and the heart of Vrur; not only with lava but with Extreme Mana Zones of varying natures.


    Almost at a loss for what to do, I turned my eyes upward, wherein I recoiled in the face of something familiar. My woven world, Edinda retreated into the sky after it¡­ winked at me, shedding a final tear that seemed to race at me with great speed. A tear, it seemed, until it grew into a shard, then into a train, and on into a hill that steadily increased in size. A hill with¡­ legs. Legs of blazing fire and a stony body of¡­ matted fur.


    As what could only have been the rough ''flesh'' of a severed neck came into view, the illusions persisting at the edge of my vision went wild. Boxes and circles fell over every point of the strange object''s surface, forcing images, schematics, and details into my senses before they congealed into a single message.


    {Vessel Connected: Zeta-Class Uma, Model: Vulcanox Crawler-Transport.}


    Almost instinctually, I began guiding a small stream of lava into the open wound of the Vulcanox I slayed, now made into an undead machine that had dimensions in the kilometers. Just before it made contact, however, a tiny something detached from our new home and radiated with a light intense enough to outshine reality itself. When it faded, reality seemed to have been shocked to a stillness. The columns of lava remained suspended in the distance, leaving a smattering of red and black spots against the ashen backdrop. Below me, my subordinates were focused on guiding the columns and spots to the heart above me. Scattered elsewhere among cities and people, I could see silver and golden auras protecting the lands from significant damage. Before me, though, was an expectedly unexpected face, holding something peculiar.


    "I should have asked first."


    Though he said it in a teasing manner, I knew Amun well enough to understand the many hidden meanings of his words. He should have asked before allowing Ed to make a crawling castle out of the Vulcanox I killed. He should have asked before making me some armor. He should have asked before bestowing my subordinates with my abilities. Those things were all true. I could hardly ponder them, however.


    So it was, he pressed on. "Although I don''t know why you dislike all things divine, it''s not my place to ask. I figure you''ll tell me if and when you want to, and that''s fine with me. However, I''ll offer it to you still because I believe you would prefer this over wicked mana."


    "Well¡­" ''That''s not entirely true.'' I sighed, looking down at his left hand and then his right, spread and filled with wickedness and divine mana respectively. Deep down, I was aware that my father used my mother''s death to convince me to be angry with the Gods. I knew that was intended to be a scapegoat to awaken my rage; in turn, I knew that realizing that truth was supposed to be enough to make me go berserk. But, wrong though he may have been, I could not hate my father for that. Nor could I hate Amun for being a God.


    On one hand, I wanted to become wicked- undying and fiendish in order to complete the paths forged by my father and the Necro King, and to show the Gods my wrath as my father so taught me. On the other hand, I desired to bring great change to Maru; and, I supposed, the Mortal Plane. If that meant becoming a Goddess of Eotrom, then I decided I would become everything I hoped the Gods to be; and nothing like they were in reality.


    Therein gave me my answer.


    "That much is true." I began, grasping first his left, wicked hand. Much to his surprise. "I thank you for showing me this, the evolution of my family''s culture. And for looking out for my subordinates, though I suppose they are yours as well."


    "You suppose?" Amun snickered, though he looked at his wicked hand with an eye of curiosity.


    "I had no desire to be holy, that is true. However." I continued, grasping his right hand, fueled with his divine essence. "It''s as you told us last year. We need to be strong enough to protect ourselves from anyone. Even the Gods. We will become the Eternal Gods and Goddesses of your pantheon- of these realms. So I will take these," I said resolutely as I guided his hands to clasp and merge the wicked with the divine as he had done with Toril.


    "With this wickedness, I will become a plague to the sources of my rage, burning away the cruelties of the Gods and burying those who hold their heels over women beneath a mountain of steel. With this, the power of the divine, I will become Eotrom''s Goddess of Volcanoes, Vulcanox, and Fertility and see to it that no mother meets the same fate as mine. Finally, with the power of my ancestors, I will spread the Cult of the Vulcanox across the Mortal Plane and work to protect the noble creatures of my heritage."


    I felt an unbelievable surge of energy flow into me the moment I clasped my hands around his. It flowed into me like lava falls, condensing while descending into my spirit to take the form of a chained dagger that wrapped around the Vulcan Heart and pierced it through to inject a venom of sorts into my spirit.


    That wickedly divine toxin saw the namesake of my class be corrupted with the blessed powers of life, death, fertility, and nature. It seeded an intense warmth and a dreaded cold into my flesh, granting a breath of life to any and every noble thing the beating Vulcan Heart pointed me to; and damning everything else.


    Within a second, the rush and in turn, Amun was gone, replaced by the indomitable roar of the volcanic catastrophe around me. A single thrust of the hand solved the seemingly overbearing problem I was facing just moments ago. As if they were guided by their own will, the crimson spires churned into and onto my Uma. The column of Vruria landed gently atop its back, forming a mountainous cairn of basalt atop its shoulder blades that dripped down to thicken the matted rows of fur along its ribs. The Tri-Point column flowed into the open face of its chest, infusing its heat into the chamber I created by ripping the beast''s heart out. As the new heart formed and began to beat, the Uma hummed to life with a roar that saw the volcanoes built atop its shoulders begin to smolder. The columns from the mountain range beneath me flowed over that open neck to form a skull of molten steel, encased in a castle of crystalline flesh sealed beneath a skin of igneous rock.


    The end of the Peninsula-wide eruption came moments later, followed by the Uma settling within a rising cloud of volcanic ash, where only the hateful amber glare of its eyes and the massive spires for horns stared down on the mountains below. The gaze born from those burning eyes saw the many magmatic creatures around us begin a mass migration to the floating mountain. My subordinates were the only exceptions, including Elurial and the other founders. They looked at me and each other with unbridled awe, and this time, it was deserved. I, however, could not take my eyes off the item before me. My armor, once an elegantly dominating suit of Valkyrie armor, was now much smaller in stature, and yet more solid. Not to mention... familiar.


    It was now reduced to just a helm with a long, fiery cape that flowed from the semi-braided ponytail atop the crown. The light produced from it joined the volcanic glow of the crystalline horns it sat between, swept forward like that of the Vulcanox. Yet its cheeks were frilled, ending in long whiskers like the salamander I slayed last year.


    "I should add," Amun said from both everywhere and nowhere. "This is still Valkyrie armor, only remade to meld with your barbaric path. Being reduced to a helmet means you can still go berserk while wearing it. I also made it into a training tool, however. Seeing as how you just made an oath, you are officially a paladin now, so congratulations! One day, though, you¡¯ll reach the end of your barbaric path and fulfill your oath. This will help you merge those classes when that time comes."


    "M- merge them?" I stammered, taking the helm to stow it under my arm, where it felt so fittingly comfortable. Yet, it was those lingering lights that answered the question for me.


    {Training Protocol Initiated: Legendary Class - Barbaric Paladin, Agent of the Vulcanox.}

 334 - The Wand of Ire

    "My name is Wilson Koorb. It is the Twenty-Fifth of Trescia. The last four days and nights have been wondrously, unsettlingly divine. After killing the bearbug, I began testing my limits further. Mana manipulation. Spells. The potions that remain in effect, even as I now speak. All in my arsenal was used.


    "The results were astounding.


    "My Potion of Expeditious Haste synergized with molding mana in ways in which I never before could have imagined, resulting in a truly ludicrous range of locomotion. I was moving at speeds the fastest animals would struggle to compete with. Let alone any carriage. And yet, occasionally, I passed beneath metal birds and horseless carriages that thundered across the tundra. The permanent levitation only saw my range extended further. And even further with the Potion of Red Dragon''s Breath. A leap could see me drifting above the scattered forests of Vruria. And a simple breath of fire would see my altitude and heading controlled for leagues.


    "Alas, Night led us around the scattered settlements, civilized or not. And our pace was unceasing. As such, I found it difficult to analyze my combat capabilities. Much less make entries in Bom. I did, however, learn much about us." I chortled at the Book of Madness and my severed middle finger, keeping pace with our ludicrous speed through this underground tunnel of sconces and wide roads.


    "It was the second hour of the twenty-third of Trescia, wherein we passed the Vrurian port city of Maneas and came upon the Southern Bodhi Sea. I openly admit asking Night how we would cross. His reply? ''On foot.'' And so, I walked into the surf, expecting to swim and get sopping wet. Instead, I sank like a metal ingot. And you, Bom, remained dry. Of course, I verified I needed not to breathe. But so too did I find that the pressures of the deep didn''t affect my mobility or ability. No, it was just painful having my organs crushed. But not my bones. Not my skull.


    "It was then I learned of the true boon of my immortality; that it was not just my arm to be encased in unbreakable metal but the entirety of my skeleton. It was then I realized the truth of my destiny as the Eldritch Engineer. That, in creating tools for the undead and the fiend alike, I would be making things for myself. And with this body, malleable that it was, those creations would become a part of me just as much as the effects of these potions were.


    "That thought merged with the sight of ships that simply should not be able to exist conjured a mental blueprint to increase my speed underwater; my first experiment. But with our schedule, it remains in my mind only. Being underwater, however, didn''t decrease our pace as much as I anticipated. The reason was, those strange vessels creeping beneath the waves were sending currents all about the place, and a raft of giant otters saw fit to take turns dragging me across the sea floor. Giant, I say, but the largest of them is akin to a small pony.


    "I must note that upon reaching the shores some twenty-seven hours later, those otters saw fit to follow me. In turn, Bom saw fit to demand I pull all but one of them into a pit of darkness. In there, they remain still. Meanwhile, the remaining tiny otter saw fit to nestle itself between my radius and ulna to sleep unceasingly. I have no intention to wake it; much less remove it.


    "It is then that I must note the unsettling aspect of my journey. Several moments after my ritual, I encountered a fisherman and his two dogs approaching the shore. The dogs seemed jumpy at the time¡ªmore from the latent energies of the recent ritual than me or Night hiding in my shadow. But the man seemed not to notice. Instead, he assumed I was a young lad practicing water magic or something. But then he came closer and took notice of my skeletal arm. He¡­ he attacked me, thinking me to be some monster. It made me angry. Or perhaps you did, Bom. I palmed his face with this hand of metal...


    "How so much power could come from such a small act was beyond me. It''s not as if the man was healthy or even strong. But I took his strength. Then, I took his soul." My middle finger fountain pen halted as I paused to stare at the knuckle it should have been attached to; glowing in an eldritch light to reveal some arcane character or glyph I knew not the origin of. "I could hear him wailing as I sent his soul to the Under. I can hear him still; as can I see what little wickedness found in his flesh condensing into a little imp; as can I imagine the sad story of some fisherman never coming home; the first of many such stories.


    "This is my flavor of madness, I realized. But soon, I- nay, the entire Peninsula learned of the good that often came from the mad.


    "The divine part of my journey came shortly after I took the fisherman''s soul. Wherein Night demanded I use everything in my power to travel the final twenty-two hundred fifty-four kilometers to our destination before dawn. In doing so, I learned that speed had a sound, and I could surpass it. But that was hardly something of note at the time due to a single reason.


    "The sky was falling.


    "The Eye of Silver. The Second Sun. The massive fucking rock in the sky or whatever people wanted to call it, was falling. Growing larger by the minute. Subtly. At first. But then color returned to the black and white early morning landscape. Blues, whites, and silvers bloomed from the silver deluge pouring from the rock above. Then, that world of worlds dragged its kin into a line behind it, each dispatching continental flakes that drifted into the abyss to twinkle as stars. And still, the silver eye fell. It grew from the size of an outstretched thumb to beyond the size of my fist within thirty minutes. And yet still, it fell.


    "The dread inspired by such a sight could not be described with mere words. Annihilation was all I could think of under such circumstances. A despair that could force the heartiest of warriors to their knees, coupled with a beauty that could inspire the most melancholic men to live their final moments as wholly as possible.


    "I cannot say how it felt for others. But I felt as if all was lost. Not for me. But for the realms. I feared that, being immortal, I would claw my way out of the bedrock and emerge in a scape reminiscent of the Hells¡ªa place with no infrastructure; no wealth; no industry, magical or otherwise. A place so far separated from anywhere else that I''d have to start a new civilization from mud and stone. Or spend weeks to months fighting to make it to foreign lands.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "It was a despair that forced me to lament and think and catalog every idea, invention, task, deed, or activity I could imagine myself enjoying. A list that remains with me, even after the world''s implosion.


    "Perhaps it would be more apt to say the eye had closed. Or better yet, it blinked. It blinked and the Mortal Plane itself flinched. Mana rose to a density of diamond in mere moments. Yet¡­ more should have suffered. Mountains rumbled. Volcanoes erupted. Extreme mana zones appeared. Smoke towered over the horizon. Lightning beat in the vicinity of my heading and strange energies could be felt behind me in the distance. Yet still, chaos ensues. The unbelievable transpires even now.


    "I passed beneath what can only be described as Valkyries as I ventured through Ligin. Valkyries! They glowed with a golden radiance as they soared beneath wings of metal, delivering souls of the newly departed to the domain of some deity without relenting. And so too were there holy griffon riders with darkened hoods, sealed in armor that was just as¡­ exotic as Night''s. Everything changed within the span of an hour, and things change still. Even now, as I traverse this tunnel of marble some two hours later, I can feel the weave shifting, becoming absurdly dense in places all around me. Almost to the point of being divine, those signatures. But this, this before me is truly divine.


    "The tunnel shifts before our very eyes, becoming a wide avenue of what feels to be roots illuminated by bioluminescent fungus and strange plant bulbs. It has become completely unlike the mountain above. So wide, it is, I imagine no dwarf can mimic its structure, for it contains not just a road wide enough for several carriages but a canal running parallel to it and a strange root-like rail running along the ceiling.


    "I know not where it leads. Thus I can only hope I can reach its origin before dawn-"


    "Must you scribe every moment!" Night hissed with a sudden burst of speed. In turn, bringing my eyes to a small concentration of amber in the distance.


    "I stand corrected. It leads to our destination, which we have just arrived. Signed, the madman, Wilson Koorb."


    Perhaps out of spite, I waited for Mob to wiggle itself into its holster and reattached my finger before boosting forward with a breath of fire. "Yes, Night. I must scribe every moment. This is what it means to be a researcher."


    "A researcher only, you are not!" The armored skeleton grabbed me by the neck with a hiss.


    Everything became a blur after that. I saw amber, purple, and green. Then darkness. Darkness coupled with vertigo and a small point of silver in the far distance. And then, many lights. Lights like windows across a dreary landscape that changed like rapidly flipping pages of a picture book.


    "Ugh! Why do you scream, Wilson?"


    In truth, I knew not I was screaming until I heard Night''s groan. But the silence yielded by that realization came with no embarrassment, only laughter.


    "I''ve never dove from such a height before."


    "You are a child, I suppose. You may as well enjoy it while you can." He subtly replied. But quite hastily grabbed my hand soon after to pull me through one such window.


    The vertigo returned with that action. As did that distant point of silver behind us, overpowered by a much more potent point of gold.


    Like an attack from a child of the light, that beam of radiant energy washed over us. Carrying with it many unseen things just like the beam of silver pouring down on the mountain an impossible distance above us. But it was so gentle, that light. So warm and calm was its pull, that I hardly realized my feet coming to a rest against the ground.


    "Come."


    A push from Night brought my eyes to my front to a forested cavern of amber, violet, and blue plants set beneath an oceanic ceiling sprinkled with stars. A second step behind Night saw me leave the flow of that fluorescent river and see it as a raging gale of black and gold motes rushing to the surface. A third step opened my ears to an enchanting melody of hums and screeches that pulled me past a divine tree twisted around a tree of dusk to approach a triage of cathedrals.


    Somehow, I could sense the many structures beyond and above radiating with magic of many types. Not to mention the enchantments seen across the bridges and carriages lumbering across the rails far above. I wanted to lose myself in imagining what the labs and libraries or studies had tucked within them. But alas, I was distracted by the mob of goblins, orcs, deep gnomes, humans, and many, many vampires surrounding me, giving me... praise.


    Moreover, it made my face contort.


    "Please tell me there''s a lab here," I muttered to Night.


    He, however, only gestured me onto the court of the three cathedrals. Or rather, the two straddling a dais set before those castles of darkness. Atop it sat the most dangerous woman I''d ever seen. An absurdly tall drow, who stared into me with eyes of gold and offered a smile more cruel than even a dragon''s sneer. To the left of her knelt a vampire in feathered robes, chanting before an edifice that appeared much like a barn with a gnarled tree poised over its roof, both adorned with many perches and man-sized holes with no apparent ladders or other means to climb up. To the right was yet another vampire dressed in some strangely beautiful winged armor. An armor that seemed alive, with a heart that beat a drum to her wordless song. Behind her was the proper cathedral. A towering wall of black stone, gilded windows, and polished buttresses. Yet, the object of their praise was neither me nor the massive woman lounging between them. Nor were they focused on the several creatures levitating beside a floating statue of the Owl.


    Their focus was on the being somehow sitting on the bottom of the Owl''s perch. Unlike mine.


    My focus was on my arm. Or rather, what dwelled within it. The small otter that I certainly hadn''t forgotten began to stir just as my eyes fell over the perch. It writhed and wriggled. Not due to it stirring awake. But by simply¡­ growing. It was the muscles that writhed. It was the bones that wiggled free of the vice of my forearm.


    That little otter took one glimpse at that being, sitting like a monk in meditation. Then ran up my arms, squealing and squeaking and pointing up to the statue with a maddened frenzy.


    How strange it now appeared. Specifically its eyes and how they expressed a sense of desperation. "You¡­ want me to approach?" I whispered, feeling utterly ridiculous until the little creature nodded its head with obsessive fervor. And so, I approached with my eyes on the otter, leaping from my shoulder to catch the eye of that being above.


    A single glance. I didn''t even see it. Somehow, I felt it though. A moment of eye contact saw the otter mature and tower 4 meters above me before it stumbled onto its side, steaming and heaving into a labored death. Only to catch its footing and return with a body of light and darkness; ore and wood pulled from the surrounding forest. And with its new size, the otter reached its hand out to that being, who freely gave it more.


    Only then, when its petrified eyes were filled with the fires of death, did the otter turn back to me. Only then, did Night step forward to stand before that being meditating beneath the Owl''s statue and clasp his hands over his chest, much like when I first found him. Only then did I gaze upon that being and see him for what he was-- a drow with the features of a devil. Or rather, A drow mixed with a Nox devil.


    The Elven Devil.


    My patron.


    "My name is Wilson Koorb." I bowed to him, lowly and with reverence. "Your Eldritch Engineer."

 335 - Crown of the Legions

    Francene Weaver.


    First Officer of the 2nd Legion.


    Species: Half-High Elf/Human.


    Age: 21.


    25th of Trescia, 1492.


    Enzithl. Central Nytholon Wildlands, Vrurian Empire.


    06:15.


    ***


    When I ascended to Eotrom and met Sir Jaimess, I knew the burdens would be heavy if I followed him as I wanted to. I knew of their weight. Yet, I had no idea of their depth.


    I got a mere taste when we first returned to the Mortal Plane. The 14 of us accompanied Sir Jaimess to the City of Bards, wherein the halfling, Romulus Stuart, met and entered Sir Jaimess'' service along with the rest of us. There, we were afforded a source of vital information about the surface. Therein we learned¡­ the surface was just like the Eternal Emperor said. Strange. Exotic. Dangerous. Temperatures swung wildly between the day and night. Many creatures filled the air with exotic sounds, always. Analogs of what existed down below were seen here in all their glory. Towering peaks were not caked with mycelium and moss, they were layered with dirt and snow. Rivers of water poured akin to the magma falls of below, albeit much faster. Deserts were not filled with dust, they contained more sands than I believed could exist. And there was so. much. water.


    The surface was beautiful. But it was not without trials. Freedom. It was not without trials. We learned this when we descended to the deep mountains of Rhar with Sir Jaimess'' Doppelganger. Far away from civilization or sentient folk, we learned firsthand that freedom was not free. It was something to be fought for, daily, both internally and externally. It was paid for in blood. The blood of a few thousand gray dwarves was the cost of our freedom, paid by another. The rest, ours and the freedom we would give others, would be paid by us.


    That first, most potent lesson brought about our need to fight, internally and externally. No longer were we woken up, provided food, and forced to work throughout the day and night. We were told when to wake up and where to be and left to our own devices. We were instructed on how to find food, build shelter, and locate divine creatures. Then we were left to our own ends. We chose to wake up at the appropriate times and travel up or down the cliffs and through the wide-reaching forests to reach the training locale. We chose to listen to the instructions given by Sir Jaimess'' Doppelganger, whether they be about the life of a ranger and the beast within; politics, economics, or commerce; witchcraft and wizardry; artificing and science; or commanding and leadership.


    Of course, following through with those choices yielded rewards. Not in the form of gold, trinkets, and weapons- though we got those too- our rewards came in the form of divine knowledge. Knowledge of the Classes we desired that were still so far in the distance. Knowledge of the classes next to them, and even beyond them. Knowledge of our jobs and roles as Prime Legionaries. The highest reward of all, however, was the return of Sir Jaimess from Rhar. We were elated when he and tengu appeared in the skies. Not because that meant our training would soon pick up, nor was it because we were finally introduced to the legendary creatures accompanying him. We were elated because we had grown tired of how the elves of Rhar treated him and the other Legionaries. They were so unlike the elves we suffered beside under the reign of the gray dwarves, who were liberated with us- the elves who were with us now.


    Later, we learned they were unlike the elves of the entire peninsula.


    Having proved ourselves adept with the basics, Sir Jaimess organized and guided us down mountains into the Ligin Kingdom''s highlands. We began each day by ingesting mana sensitivity potions and growing familiar with spiritual energies. Then, we mastered our skills on the frontier and in battle as we hunted both the Culture hated by our God and the mana wells of powerful creatures, seeking to expand ours. Within two weeks, we descended to the vast plains of Ligin, wherein we saw our daily tasks shift to focus on the other aspects of our duties.


    We stopped at various cities to gain experience in diplomacy and the other garrison duties. In doing so, we witnessed just how famous the Tengu Tamer was. Prominent and novice adventurers, artisans, and diplomats alike sought him out by the dozens. Thus with our low bar for entry and high standards for training, our numbers grew exponentially with each passing day.


    It was the third day, and thus the third city in Ligin that saw the first of us make a connection. Sheedra, one of the elves on the path to becoming our Technical Archmage, came across the tunnel stretching beneath the mountains and followed it to the dungeon explored by Sir Elijah. She grew familiar with the draconic beasts of shadow found there. Yet, none followed her here, deeper into the Ligin plains, so we continued, thinking nothing of it as we hopped from city to city, practicing the complex game of laws and diplomacy employed between non-warring nations. At the same time, each of our Doppelgangers worked to recruit 15 people suitable for our cause, and in turn had each of them recruit 15, and each of them recruit 15, and again three more times over.


    Through it all, we learned how to brew mana sensitivity potions to assist in their daily consumption, taking intense care not to exceed the limits of alchemical toxicity. All the while, Sir Jaimess continued procuring Mana Wells and creatures of all types from the beast markets to distribute the former to us and send the latter up above, to his woven world- our home above the Mortal Plane, Naubuuru.


    We were a tenday and a half into our journey, halfway across Ligin with over a dozen cities behind us, when the second of us made a connection. It was one of many creatures Sir Jaimess recently purchased to release. A Tanuki. A shapeshifter with an unsettlingly exotic ability and a similar origin to the revered Tengu. It clung to Civil Chief Romulus desperately, prompting a short celebration from us that gave Sir Jaimess the time to change our tactics.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The next day, the 15 of us were spread no less than 100 meters apart, forming a wedge behind Sir Jaimess before we drank our potions. Similarly, those of our subordinates who aimed to be Legionaries formed wedges behind us and drank their potions; and theirs behind them. Both individually and as a unit that spanned over many kilometers, we protected our civilian caravans and their land skiffs with more than just blades and bows. Using NoxNet, we decided their paths, altering the landscape or neutralizing threats if necessary. And of course, we continued training and educating them in the ways of the Tengu Tamer.


    After a month of such an endeavor, we''d traveled some 3,000 kilometers and were finally coming upon the Vrurian border. By then, our numbers had truly exploded into a diverse range of species and classes. Just as we ranged from half-orcs to half-elves such as myself, those who gathered at the camp Sir Jaimess made ranged from high-elf to orc, goblins, and even a few ogres. It wasn''t until that night, however, that something truly pivotal occurred.


    Antwan Yotes, a half-orc, and our soon-to-be Marshal, was exploring along the Vrurian-Ligin border, far from the trail. Therein he came upon and subsequently neutralized a shady caravan of wheeled cages before calling in the rest of us. We arrived to see a conglomerate of the rarest creatures one could ever hope to lay eyes on gathered around Antwan, with one, in particular, remaining by his side at all times. They were all natives of Nonus; creatures that were once revered as deities, hence their catch-all designation. In the time since, however, they were challenged, hunted, and traded by the wicked and greedy. Yet their designation remained- the Divine Beasts of Nonus.


    They''d been pulled from the wildest parts of the Vrurian Empire''s dark forest. We failed to realize that was the cause of them gazing upon us with as much surprise as we looked at them. To see a human accompanied by a triage of tengu was much rarer than witnessing a tengu in the wild, much less capturing them. To feel Sir Jaimess'' connection to the Spirit Realm and the God of Mana, and our connection to him, was unprecedented. And so, their flocking to us should have been seen as natural; yet it was anything but.


    To see a timid centaur fawn hugging against the hip of Antwan Yotes was anything but natural, much less expected. Even then, though, he wasn''t the only one. A cage filled with Tanuki swarmed Romulus and the two leaders of the 2nd Corps, Melek Jubal, and Gwenddydd Grandspire. Similarly, a pair of Kappa approached the leaders of our first Corps, Annick, and Maud Ansgar. Meanwhile, a baby basilisk boasting a band over its eyes slithered to our Chief Engineer, Garuk Brickscale. Once unbound and ungagged, a harpy flapped over to Janimae Carver, our General-to-be, and gave her a curious sniff.


    Then came my turn.


    She was still in her cage at the far rear of the caravan, thus she largely went unseen. She appeared like an elf; beautiful, with a quite revealing dress of feathers and scales alike. Great black wings with glimmering nightly blue feathers grew from her back, matching the long, scaled mermaid-like tail covering her lower portions. But only for an instant. They split down the middle and slackened into the trails of a robe, exposing a pair of slender legs she used to shift toward me.


    A Siren in the flesh, as tall as I was and as beautiful as could be.


    She stood with no fear as I opened her cage and stepped forward wantingly as I unshackled her wrists, never breaking eye contact with me in the slightest. It was almost... entrancing, despite the elven inability to be charmed, I found myself releasing her gag without hesitation, wherein she immediately asked. "Can you sing?"


    "I sang as a child. I haven''t been practicing since my liberation," I replied as calmly as I would have to my companions, and remained calm still, even as she took me by the hand to drag me deeper into the forest.


    "Show me. Then, I will show you."


    That was all she said for hours of maneuvering through the forest, watching the woven worlds shift and dance in the skies above while my peers and companions did the same in other parts of this arcane land. Never did the slightest sound befall her frame, even when we came upon a vast lake and she slipped inside, gesturing me into the drink.


    I knew the tales of sirens drowning people. But that was of little consequence when I personally knew the Eternal God of the universe, thus I stared at the still face of the lake, reflecting his glory in divine radiance before I took hold of her hand and stepped atop the thin veil.


    The cold stung against my boots as my weight fell onto my foot, stealing the breath from my lungs. Yet I pressed forward. Past the knees. Beyond the waist. Up past the shoulders until my head was submerged, then I opened my eyes to see a vibrant world of blues, greens, and browns, reflected by mesmerizing schools of fish parading around the sunken wreckage of a lost civilization; and her.


    She began singing, pouring the most beautiful sound into the water while her hands danced and flowed majestically around me, pulling my arms into the same motion while notes and hums attempted to push past the bubbles escaping my lips. What took their place was water, cold enough to burn like fire as it distorted and drowned out my notes. Yet I could not stop. I could not close my eyes to that beautiful visage shining so radiantly before me, even as darkness loomed from all angles.


    She bloomed, and thus I sang until there were no more bubbles to escape my lips, and I inhaled.


    I inhaled until my lungs were filled to the brim with the burning cold and the Emperor''s darkness was all I knew, then I sang in the loudest, richest tone I had ever conjured. It swept through the waters like an unruly mistress, pushing back the darkness and quaking the frozen surface into a field of drifting sheets before it breached the air as praise to Mani.


    Continuing our song, we- Saria and I, swam to the surface and kept swimming through the air to return to our peers and followers- our fellow Divine Rangers, returning the centaur fawn to her home within the heart of Vruria.


    It was glorious- both what we and they have done. Yet those were tame in comparison to what we saw when we entered the great Centaurian city of Enzithl, for our eyes feasted on many great things, and our spirits were rewarded for the great things we had done.


    Grateful for the rescue and superb hospitality of their fawn, the Centaurians became close friends and allies of ours with little words exchanged. Many strong centaurs in the prime of their youth were seen gathered among the leaders of the 3rd Corps, Raiz, a male bearbug, and Putu, a female half-high orc. Even that was tame in comparison to those standing behind the 4th Corps leaders, Kateri Pran and the half-dwarven-human Seighard Kartikeya. Not because of any creatures standing next to them, however, but because of the fires flowing into them from the creature perched atop Fenris'' shoulder.


    The elf, our future Witch MD, was the only one the creature had bonded with in the same way as the rest of us. Yet all those gathered around them met the fiery gaze of the small chick standing on her shoulder and received from it, the Blessing of the Phoenix Feather.

 336 - Oath to Order

    Zane Cooper.


    First Officer of the 1st Legion.


    Species: Human.


    Age: 15.


    25th of Trescia, 1492.


    Rhar Kingdoms, Rharian Mountains. Altitude: 2,605 m.


    06:45.


    ***


    I found it ironic how I had been waiting for Sir Toril''s return much like back then, and yet differently.


    Back then- in the Shadeforge- it seemed like so long ago. Back then, I was not like Madame Syele or Lady Nyella. Nor was I like Geingurr Redstone or Kamosh. I was not even like the little goblin Kast. I did not wish to dwell in that new domain or create a new one. I did not have hope as a slave, thus my liberation birthed no zealotry or even joy. I was not angry at the gray dwarves like the orcs or the dwarves, hence I had no reason to fight. I had no home to return to like the humans and few elves, thus I had no reason to have hope; nor did I need it.


    What I had was order. Structure. Purpose. A community. Since I was born, I rose to the sounds of lashing whips and ravenous beasts and worked until the lashings ceased and the howls silenced. That was it. That was all it ever was. Hard but ordered. A simplistic beauty that was not without reward.


    When I could stand, I was made to clean and thus learned the extent of what I could do with my body. When I grew a bit stronger, I was made to mine and thus learned of the extent of what my body could do to my surroundings. When I grew a bit smarter, I learned how to make things and thus I learned what my surroundings could do for others. That was my purpose. Working. Destroying one thing to create another. Doing things for others.


    That was my purpose. Even when I thought it was not.


    When the Undying Night came to destroy all we had known, my reality shattered tenfold. Not only was I physically liberated but I was mentally unshackled; made to know about the infinite realms above. I learned numbers and I learned letters. I learned the languages of sapient creatures I had never seen. Then I learned the 1''s and 0''s of the machine code. I learned history. I learned to manipulate mana and the elements. I learned of the Eternal God and I learned of his Agents. I mastered destruction and became proficient in creation. Yet, I still had no order. Not until the Eternal Emperor ascended; and we with him.


    Eotrom was where I met Sir Toril. Or rather, Eotrom was where I first saw and decided to follow Sir Toril as he charged through that starry void, and I was not the only one. Jegu. Niku. Cota. Mide. Biki. Abaka. Yeshi and Dharma. Gelek and Palmo. Alan and Olzi. Enx and Erke. We all witnessed him create his world of perpetual storms, banded across the surface like layers of rock. Ruthica Prime has been where we remained ever since. But not on the inside of the world. Not in Eotrom.


    We remained high above the Mortal Plane, dwelling on the world as peers. A community. Under the instruction of Sir Toril''s Doppelganger and the ever-increasing masses of intelligent undead, we spent no less than seven years following in the footsteps of the Undying Tempest. We learned the laws of nature, the rules of civilization, the methods of science, and the art of war through constant challenges and trials. We learned of the Eternal Emperor''s history and that of his beloved Legions by reliving memories and witnessing key events as if we were there as ghosts. We honed ourselves until our armor became like a second skin. We worked until the sacred beast of our leader saw us as one of their own. We trained until the killing tools of our Eternal Emperor became like our arms and legs. We learned the ways of our paths, of chivalry, of holy words, of monastic ways, and witch''s creeds, dictated and laid out before our eyes by the Eternal Emperor himself.


    The end of those seven years saw the fifteen of us acolytes emerge on the great tempestuous steppes of Ruthica Prime, standing as one with hand over hand over our armored hearts. We gazed up to look down on the Mortal Plane and witnessed as they witnessed, the Oath of the Undying Tempest be birthed into existence.


    Just before our 15th year of living, we believed our time had come, and that it did. We created our knight order; the Order of the Undying Tempest. And in doing so, we were named as Agents of the 1st Order. We believed Sir Toril would return and would bring us along on his adventures at that point. That he did. Unbeknownst to us, however, our training was not yet over. What we had before were mere training saddles. What Sir Toril returned to bestow us were proper riding saddles.


    It came in three forms, the first being responsibilities born in the form of subordinates. New acolytes to the Order, recruited from the Ligin Mountains; thus the duty was to have our clones teach them our ways just as Sir Toril did to us. The second came in the form of our newfound liberty. At last, we could face trials and adventure across Ligin at Sir Toril''s side and prove, both to ourselves and to him, that we faithfully upheld the tenets of the Undying Tempest. The third came in the form of weapons, chosen by our hands, and armor made unlike Sir Toril''s.


    For us knights, it was heavy plate armor bearing the likeness of a tempest griffon on the back and the mark of the Eternal Emperor on the front. Pointed boots layered with armor shrouded the feet entirely, encasing the legs up to the knees in what seemed to be a solid piece of metal, save the thin hexagonal mail at the back of the knees and other such places. The gauntlets were fingered with sharp talons made of some glossy black metal. Our helms, featureless on their faces, were shrouded with hoods colored in the electric blues, blacks, and whites of Sir Toril''s soon-to-be Legion; leaving nothing to distinguish those of the knight caste from one another aside from our names and positions etched onto our pauldrons.


    Our armor varied for the monks, dames, and holy tempests- the clerics and paladins- but in all cases, they were heavy. As it should have been, for the burdens set by the Order were not to be taken lightly. Those tenets were to be upheld without pause. Unrelenting and unyielding in our pursuits like the storm we served. And so we were.


    In the mountains of Ligin, we did as Sir Toril did and acquired griffon eggs. Some were taken back from thieves, some were bargained for, and others were found fair and square. All of them were infused with our God''s energy and made into tempest griffon eggs, then sent to Ruthica Prime to be hatched and raised by our clones. Of our own volition, we did what the Order required of us, asking for neither request nor reward in our efforts to improve the lives of the Ligin highlanders. For their sake alone, we became a scourge to the bandits and tyrants of their slopes, smiting them wholly and returning their necrotic forms to those they pillaged and plundered. In those lands, regal and knightly, yet poor and uneducated, the once-vile dead toiled to repay the sins they accumulated during their lives. They breathed fire into their mines, brought safety and security to their winding roads, returned once-looted coins and trinkets to their orphanages and churches, and constructed schools for both the young and old. They worked in their witch huts. Oversaw the transportation centers. Manned the sewage systems. Everything.


    Like the undead, we had been working tirelessly. Yet our work paled in comparison to that of our God, the Undying Tempest; the Storm Thief, Sir Toril O''Connell.


    While we made something more of those who unwillingly followed the scum of those slopes, Sir Toril became a strong voice for the honorable powers in the highlands, allowing them to speak to the powers existing in the lowlands in ways that made them listen. In those lands, regal and knightly, and also cultured and honorable, Sir Toril took the leaders of the worthy highlanders and sought peace. Not by encouraging the end of their centuries-long conflict. By encouraging it¡¯s continuity.


    His proposal was an honorable war, done as an annual tradition. Being sponsored by the Undying Tempest, they would fight to the death, yet those who fell with honor would rise as living beings once again. At this stage, both parties declined the morbid offer. But while the battle was lost, the war had yet to be won. Sir Toril did not come to sponsor any of the two kingdoms. Instead, he gained favor, honor, prestige, and privilege in them both. More so than he already had by virtue of his station. With that came a trading contract for griffon eggs, in turn creating more tempest griffons. With that came land granted to Sir Toril in the midlands and holds claimed by us in the highlands. With that came civilians flocking to us as citizens. With that came a new class of acolytes; and now, with the sacred world blooming so brightly above, the time had come for the descent of our doppelgangers, leading the first group of acolytes to their trials.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    It was humbling, to see the fruits of our labors so clearly. So too was it a powerful thing to imagine what we would become in the following years, decades, and centuries.


    Upon our descent to the Mortal Plane as Tempest Knights, Dames, Monks, Clerics, and Paladins of the First Order, upwards of 230 acolytes took our place. Now that they had proven to meet the Standards of the Order, it was time for them to descend with our Doppelgangers and for us to be introduced to our seconds. It was their time to wear these burdens we so proudly carried. It was their turn for their Doppelgangers to rise and take on the role of educators for the nearly 3,500 new acolytes. Conversely, it was our time.


    On this, the most holy of nights, it was our time to debut the Order to the Bodhi Peninsula, witnessed by the Gods of all and seen by the esteemed powers of Ligin.


    ***


    Mack Ronald.


    25th of Trescia, 1492.


    Ligin Kingdom, Central Ligin Mountain Range. Altitude: 4,508m.


    07:00.


    ***


    "Is it just me or¡­ does it keep getting bigger?"


    While I pondered the same hours earlier, I could neither look at nor answer Queen Isabella Ligin, for I could sense what was spreading across the realm of the Bodhi Tree. Moreover, I could never take my eyes off of Toril''s order of knights whenever they came near. The reason being, their uncanny resemblance to the Scales of the Cobalt Order that birthed Titus Zlock; only being likened after Toril¡¯s tempest griffon instead of an ancient cobalt dragon.


    Despite their stark differences, the members of their four castes all appeared the same. Their dames had heavy armor with thick pauldrons and winged helms boasting a ''Y'' shaped opening that left their visages hidden from all. Their clerics had covered their eyes and noses in a half-helm reminiscent of a griffon''s beak. Their monks were enveloped in what seemed to be a one-piece robe of vibrant feathers and dark fur. Even their knights were never seen without their helmets. Yet even those faces of metal were shrouded with hoods, pointed like an eagle''s beak.


    No matter the garb, their armor seemed heavier than most models I''d seen. It made their voices boom like thunder and their steps quake like that of a great beast. Even the monks. Even then, however, that was the least of it. In just a few months they did what many paladins, much less many Orders failed to achieve- put the two sides of Ligin on even terms. In doing so, Toril not only had a veritable city in his honor but the prestige to invite the Queen herself to one of his events, and have her accept.


    Technically his teacher, I still was, thus I was privy to be present when Toril thundered to a landing outside the Royal Capital of Galar on the eastern coast. Those knights of his ferried our guests inside the belly of a massive skyship he brought with him while he greeted and welcomed us inside the creation of his fellow vassal, classmate, and Noctis Legionary, Edward Pascal.


    It was then that it happened.


    The Second Sun. The Silver Eye. Mani, always in motion around the Bodhi Peninsulas from way on high, ceased its motion high above Crater Lake. During our two-hour flight, it had grown from the size of a coin held out at arm''s length to that of grapefruit held at the same distance; all the while, those other spherical realms were drawn to form a line behind it. It was a sight that left many unsettled but few panicked, for most if not all of the Bodhi Tree''s denizens knew of the so-called Weaver of Worlds even if they knew him not by that title. That said, that was also because a minute few could feel the implications of such events unfolding around us. And none could have foreseen its conclusion.


    It was only felt by the masses when we entered the grounds of the Order, on one of the Ligin Kingdom''s highest peaks. Even in the stables within the outer yards, the winds were dead silent. Yet, they carried both haunting whispers and enriching songs, percussed by the thunderous steps of the Order, marching in solidarity toward their temple- a doorless, open-air half-sphere of concentric rings, terraced to face the wide dais at the center.


    The 15 of them entered without words, following after Zane, Toril''s second, as he leaped into the sky and landed in the second outermost ring. Without delay, he took his pole hammer by the hilt and slammed its head between his boots, then raised his arms to touch his knuckles atop his breast while his head lowered in the morbid salute of the Legio Noctis; like a corpse in a standing coffin. Only then did Toril and the divine tempest griffon, Thor, stride atop their dais. First, to gaze up to the wide eye in the distance, then to return their salute and have his voice boom. "State your names."


    Zane, gifted the name surname, Cooper. Jegu. Niku. Cota. Mide. Biki. Abaka. Yeshi. Darma. Gelek. Palmo. Alan. Olzi. Enx. Erke. Each of their names rang in the heavens, echoing across the lands until they met that silver eye above and echoed back as thunder that stilled reality itself.


    "The fifteen of you have proven to possess the mind of being undistinguished within the Order and nondiscriminatory beyond it. Like Thunder, you have proven able to echo the tenets of the Order and the message of our Gods to those who would listen. Like Lightning, you have proven to be relentless and unyielding in your endeavors and pursuits. Like the Winds, you have proven yourselves capable of cutting through the vile that lives, being the gale that uplifts them in death so they may atone for their mortal sins. Like the Rain, you have shown yourselves to be a blessing to the honorable that lives, being capable of washing away the sins of the dead and enriching the land with your deluge.


    "Having embodied the Orders of the Undying Tempest, I ask of you this: Do you swear to uphold these orders faithfully until your end of days?"


    Without hesitation and with all the resolution one could muster in their will, those 15 Agents shouted "I do!" at the heavens, prompting the heavens to take the form of a tempest and shout back, lifting them to float above their ring.


    Had I not been bolstering my eyes, I would have failed to see the massive bolt descending from that tempestuous realm to split into 15 tempest griffons, each carrying an equal number of the Order''s members along with a sleigh of metals and materials. Each griffon-carrying bolt split once again the moment they passed a few dozen meters altitude, placing the acolytes behind each of the original 15 while the beasts slammed into the ground next to their companions. The sleighs, on the other hand, remained above each Agent as if to guide bolts of more vibrant blue color through them, stripping them of their armor, yet disintegrating the sleighs into a stream of grains that occluded each member''s visage in a cloudy veil before we could study them.


    Each plate and even the helms of their gear were detached, removed from the cloud, and arranged neatly around the devices carried by the sleigh. Then came their ''hive mail,'' chainmail shaped like the combs of a bee hive. Then came their arming doublets, or in the cases of the monks, their robes, before even their tunics were stripped. Only then did the rich blue lightening, and in turn the cloud of grains and devices surrounding them, flow into their garbs.


    The knights, dames, and clerics saw their tunics and doublets split and untwine themselves, only to be restitched and fastened back together with spools of vibrant materials and conduits of strangely colored metals I had never before seen. Once complete, the tunics cascaded around their bodies, enveloping them in a second skin of fibrous muscles and vein-like markings. The doublets followed, wreathing an enchanted web around their frames, with small machines or thrumming devices positioned around the kidneys, liver, heart, head, and other places, positively glowing with arcane power before going dormant. Their hive mail followed, devolving into a grainy stream that cascaded toward them, morphing into something thick, fluid, and vibrant as it met the ambient blue, black, and gray arcana. Now an amorphous, sparking blue-black fluid, the mail sank into each crevasse, melding around every strange device on the webbed doublet like a gelatinous mass before its vibrancy was transferred through with an undeniable necrotic surge.


    Some of the weaker-minded observers were brought to their knees by the harmless necrotic wave, for they had never felt the fear of death before; much less so strongly. More began to tremble when a faint but unmissable ghostly wail began echoing off their glowing forms, howling like the winds through a tarnished village until the thick plates of adamantine and mithral, infused with multiple affinities, cascaded onto their frames with sharp clanks and echoing booms.


    Even when they were sealed within seemingly immovable coffins, glowing with a rich blue radiance, the weak ones did not recover, for the monks experienced something different. The second skin we expected to be made from their robes became a long ribbon instead. As it enveloped them from head to toe, the devices of their mechanical doublets morphed into glowing blue crystals that spaced themselves evenly against the cloth, where it waited for an unseen force to thread adamantine and magic-infused mithral into faerie flax. With the crystals sandwiched in place, the wrappings began to move, curling themselves tighter around their forms until the blue glow of holy and arcane symbols shone through. And when the same light shone through their eyes, the mail of gaseous lightning followed, drawing itself out into a vibrant white string that traced the shape of clouds and lightning bolts as dipped through the fabrics and the being who wore them, permanently stitching them together.


    Despite their differences, the knights, monks, dames, and clergy pulsed with the radiance of the tempestuous world above as a gestalt force before suddenly going dormant, their light dying with the winds outside.


    With reverence, Toril gazed upon his Order and let them fall to the middle of those five rings with thunderous echoes. As did we, eager to see their changes.


    The monks appeared to be mummies neatly wrapped in black cloth, with eyes that glowed with the same blue radiance as the names, holy words, and arcane symbols found throughout their wrappings. So too did the eyes of the clerics glow, despite being concealed beneath a half-mask still, their lips neither frowning nor smiling as they raised their hands in a salute. The dames seemed to have pits of darkness within the openings of their winged helms, and no longer did the knights have helms at all. Yet, they kept their hoods, now enchanted to hide their visages behind a permanent veil of darkness.


    "With your suits reforged around your frames and awakened with the Machine''s Spirit, you fifteen are recognized as Knights, Monks, Clerics, and Dames of the Second Order. Take them, your members of the First Order, and spread to the lands around.


    "The time for your evolution is but a few months away."

 337 - Deliverance

    Imperator Lucia Pike.


    25th of Trescia, 1492.


    5th Legion Home World, Brunhilde.


    07:00.


    ***


    My job was easy, at first. And then, it wasn''t.


    Born into a family of knights, dames, paladins, and occasionally, Valkyries, my job was to protect the Imperial Barbaric Princess throughout her life. Due to her prowess and immense strength, however, that left little for me to do for the first few years of my life, other than my morning training and my evening studies. At all other times, I simply followed her around, acting as her shadow. That changed when we met Amun, just before our awakening.


    That changed when I met Toril.


    He turned out to have lived the same life I had, yet his experience was completely different. He too was born into a noble family of royal knights, dames, and paladins; no Valkyries. Yet, at an early age, he had been sent away to Corvus Tower for his misuse of magic, and thus he hardly knew his family. He entered Amun''s service and spent his mornings training and his evenings studying, yet his master demanded he broaden his mind and train rigorously with him every night.


    When we left our homeland, I got a firsthand account of what my future was to hold. Then we went forward to the Bodhi Tree. There, we learned not only about class evolutions, divine trees, and the classes we all obsessed over. Yet, there was more to it than that. We- all of us except Amun- learned about ourselves. We explored the personalities that had been repressed by our upbringing as royals and imperial vassals and sought to bring them out; both in ourselves and each other. On the other hand, we learned of the lengths some would go to in order to prove themselves just.


    Amun''s encounter with Dende Morningstar served as the start of many races. A race to match the impossibly high standard Toril and the others developed after a decade of rigorous training. A race to develop Amun''s technology. A race to recruit subordinates. A race to form subguilds. A race to build an empire.


    A race to become a Valkyrie.


    It was an honor unlike any other; the¡­ reluctance¡­ Princess Roheisa showed when discussing the divine notwithstanding. To be a Valkyrie was the pinnacle of the class, more so even than an agent of the Gods- a Holy Paladin. The role of the Valkyrie was twofold. We served a Deity associated with war by gathering the worthy souls of the dead, delivering them to their divine domains for some grand purpose. So too did we live by war, devoting our very souls to the destruction of our God''s enemies.


    Therein lay my duties. Not my Oath, however.


    My Oath first dictated that I seek. Seek the souls worthy of being reborn as celestials in Eotrom. Seek the wicked souls who deserved abyssal damnation. Seek those souls worthy of becoming agents of my God, both Noctis Legionaries and Valkyrie.


    My Oath then dictated that I see. See and bear witness to glorious actions of courage and sacrifice, if only so they may never be forgotten in the memoirs of mortals. See and look down on dishonorable acts of cowardice and selfishness, if only to use them as antithetical examples to the worthy. See and watch over the delivered, becoming their shepherd who leads them to glorious pastures.


    My Oath then dictated that I Deliver. Deliver the souls of those who had come to an honorable end by enacting the burying rituals of their culture and guiding their souls to the worlds above. Deliver the damnable, dishonorable mortals a brutal death and send them to fester in their pit of wickedness. Deliver the most worthy but unproven mortals to their place of prominence in the Legio Noctis. Or, in my circle.


    Therein was my oath. Tenets that saw my Master Class morph into something more¡­ regal. Something prestigious.


    So it was, my first task was to become familiar with the woven worlds of the Legion''s founders. Doing so required the worlds to be woven in the first place, then I was required to deliver at least one soul to each of them, birthing 11 new celestials; each of which sprouted 11 new feathers on my wings; granting me the means to travel to and from those worlds with ease. In the meantime, my Doppelganger did as all the others had done and expanded on the 15 souls we recruited in Eotrom by recruiting and adopting the potential dames of Ligin. Trained as a Valkyrie, all of them. Educated in the ways of their other classes, all of them. Trained for their positions in my Legion, all of them. That, however, was not my second task. It was the third.


    My second task was to do as the other founders had done. Weave a World. Not just one, however. I was also to weave a moon- a hall for my Valkyrie Courts. Thus when that was complete, I stepped past the third step and reached the fourth. In doing so, I was first given the means to birth Valkyries out of the worthiest souls I delivered. Then, I was granted the ability to bestow crowns unto my Valkyrie, bringing me to my next task.


    [Prestige Paladin: Oath of the Valkyrien Empress, Step 4 - Monarchical Valkyries.]


    [Before you receive the Imperial Valkyrie Helm, you must complete the ranks of your Valkyries by giving rise to and naming the Valkyrie Queens of your Eternal God''s deities, and then having them adopt the values and cultures of their respective deity. (0/11)]


    That task occupied much of my time. For, like any good leader, I used the power of delegation to accomplish it.


    It started with my Executor, Shivali Hemera. In making her my first Valkyrie Queen, she was lifted in prominence to the point of being able to birth Valkyries as I could, and so she rebirthed her peers and sent them far and wide to Seek, See, and Deliver. Naturally, Shivali accomplished her task first. She sought out a small hamlet in the lands of the Mazi Council, wherein she saw a domestic dispute in an isolated homestead. She witnessed the young woman refuse to be subjected to abuse from her husband and raise her hand to defend herself; a rare act in such barbaric lands.


    She fought valiantly, using her cunning and every improvised weapon within her reach to slay her husband, even after being subjected to mortal wounds. Yet even then, she did not despair. She stumbled to her porch to lean against the post and slump to the ground, wherein she died staring at the woven worlds above with a satisfactory smile. So she was when Shivali descended with a silent resolve to palm the cold chest of that courageous soul. In flowing into her, the soul was partially detached from her body, allowing her to watch Shivali bury her atop the nearby hill and see her soul fully separate from her body.


    Infusing her magic into the Edindan Bifrost Feather enveloped the two in a celestial light that saw them ascend to the world of volcanoes and subterranean castles. With a deafening bang, they breached through the surface to the divine realm, where the lands were much more expansive and filled with flora and fauna tailored to thrive in the deadly environment in which I awaited.


    There, on Princess Roheisa''s world, the soul once again had dark brown skin and similarly colored eyes that gazed upon her strange environment with the wonder of a child. That was all she retained from her past life, however. Her name, her memories, her age; everything but the skills she developed in life and the visage she once had were buried with her body. That was what it meant to be delivered.


    That was what it meant to die and be reborn a celestial of Eotrom.


    My Executor set her on the fertile grounds of Edinda with reverence before saluting me, her bronze armor glistening amidst the reds, blacks, and greens of the background. The return of the gesture saw me keep my hands over my sternum long after hers fell, allowing the divine energy infused within me to condense and take shape into a beating heart of bronze blades; and in meeting the gaze of this delivered soul, I declared. "You, who have fought with tenacious courage against your oppressor and held fast in the face of death, have proven yourself worthy of joining the Valkyrie Court.


    "Do you accept?"


    Her face tightened at once. Her feet pulled themselves together, erecting her dignified frame as she did her best to salute me. "I do."


    Kneeling before her, I pushed the Valkyrie Heart into her frame, invoking a wave of particulate matter and crimson energy to flow into her from the world around her. Her skin darkened as the moments passed, adopting the same black sheen as the obsidian around us while her eyes and hair burned red like the lava in the distance. Her back arched as she inhaled the first breath of her new lungs. Then she lurched forward as small obsidian arms sprouted from her shoulder blades and shuddered in delight as bladed feathers of steel formed small wings on her back.


    Those were only the exterior changes, however. On the inside, her strength, endurance, speed, and durability were superior to mortals. Her soul was linked to both me and Edinda, permitting her to be reborn indefinitely, thus enabling her to fulfill her duty in perpetuity whilst using the powers of her Goddess, Imperator Roheisa Deapou. Yet, she was not mature. Her powers were superior, but not super, and her skills needed refinement. And so¡­ "I hereby name you the Magmatic Valkyrie of Edinda, Elara Aghagan!"


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    My declaration once again saw the matter and energy of her world surge. Not into her, however, but into a singular point between her clasped hands, separating them as a glistening helm of crystal and steel formed before her burning eyes. With large, whiskered fins protruding from the cheeks and a fiery mane held in place by a crown, it appeared much like the salamander the Princess fought last year. So it was for the others in my court.


    The two leaders of my Corps of monks, knights, paladins, and clerics were the first to deliver someone worthy. They sought her out in the Kasian Empire and saw her fight against a group of slavers until the glorious end. They witnessed those she told to flee escape to safety and exchange words with the local militia to acquire help. They descended, Neasa Urimo, to destroy the vile in the name of our God; Hange Juventas, to bury and take hold of the woman''s soul. Together, they delivered.


    To Pangaea, she was delivered, wherein the Valkyrie Heart saw her take on the energies of the world to make her brown skin richer, her hair burned with fire, and her eyes shone as blue as the ocean. Her dragonfly-like wings developed into dissimilar things of fire, earth, air, and water that shone with a divine radiance; and so it was, she was named the Omni-Elemental Valkyrie, Fauna Amurdad.


    My Civil Chief, Helvia Uzun, was the next to Seek, See, and Deliver. In the wilds near the border of Vruria and Nevstan, she saw an old ranger defend the lands behind her from a dangerous magical beast. They witnessed her exchange deadly blows with the creature and fall, staring at it until it drew its last breath, wherein she allowed herself to fall into her eternal slumber. Only, her rest never came. Helvia delivered her to Naubuuru, wherein her frame of tan-brown skin, green eyes, and brown hair grew wings of obsidian and quartz covered in feathers of paper and carbon fibers; and so it was, she was named the Divine Bestial Valkyrie, Mohoana Claritia.


    While many were delivered in the meantime, it was a full tenday and more before my Technical Archmage, Modron Safli, delivered the next Valkyrie. She sought her out in the Rharian Mountains, wherein she saw a grueling fight take place between some traveling merchants and a group of bandits. She witnessed the conclusion of the battle; a witch was cornered between the bandit''s leader and a cliff. The valiant soul in question, a survivor hidden nearby, tackled the assailant off the cliff, pummeling them even as the mountain pummeled their falling bodies to paste.


    After erecting a cairn over the brave soul''s remains, she was delivered to Krakatol, wherein her rich, dark skin, gray eyes, and puffy afro took shape and became enhanced by the small wings of sparking feathers that came with her rebirth; and so it was, she was named the Sky Valkyrie, Steinunn Drist.


    Dagr Caracalla, my Marshal, delivered the next Valkyrie at the end of Duotra. She sought her out in the heart of Kasia, wherein the age-old war gave rise to a courageous warrior who, even in old age, refused to remove herself from the battlefield. And so, Dagr saw that woman of legend reign supreme on the field of war, mowing meadows of her foes until they cowered in the wake of her blows. She showed no mercy, and yielded no ground, even at the cost of her limbs.


    There, on the field on which that brave soul died, Dagr descended and lit afire her funeral pyre, then fought valiantly to defend her honor against anyone who dared try to taint the precession until there was naught of her but ashes; and after delivering those ashes to their final resting place, Dagr delivered the warrior''s soul to Ruthica Prime. There, in the tempestuous world of the one I saw most dearly, her form was realized to have caramel-brown skin, black hair, and eyes with the same cobalt-blue vibrancy as her sparking phantasmal wings; and so it was, she was named the Tempest Valkyrie, Pelagia Nagdauf.


    The militant leaders of my 3rd Corps sought the worthy in Brybs, wherein they saw a young soul run herself ragged by stealing food and medical supplies from the oppressive powers that controlled them. They witnessed her plans for blackmail fall through and watched her fight even in captivity, wherein she escaped from her cell to strike at the beast that plagued her from the inside. And so, when she succumbed to her wounds, Ione Tweplom and Bilqis Cheichei descended to those dreary lands to bring to justice the cowardly deeds she tried to expose and memorialize her by mummifying and sealing the valiant corpse within a mausoleum. She then was delivered to the world of dusk, Nue Dracule, wherein her skin absorbed the perpetual twilight to adopt a heavily tanned hue with black hair and gilded eyes. Her wings, made of black feathers speckled with gold, formed on the small of her back as opposed to her shoulder blades; and so it was, she was named the Twilight Valkyrie, Mathildis Fidiadi.


    Those of my 2nd Corps of healers sought out the worthy in Redagh, wherein they saw the young and old alike defending the ancient island from pirates. While they aimed to poach, the pirates proceeded to take any and everything they could sell. Including lives.


    While they watched, they witnessed a young druid-to-be awaken great power that saw the pirate scum sink to the ocean depths. Thus Spes Kotuut and Pia Saulia descended on those flooded shores of Redagh; one to heal those who were fought for and the other to send the temple of that brave soul drifting into the ocean blue. Delivered, she then was, to Oceania, wherein her pale, almost blue skin, kelp-like hair, and black eyes took form from the essence of the divine world. From her back sprouted large fin-like wings of coral and aluminum-bronze; and so it was, she was named the Sea Valkyrie, Meritides Proncruo.


    My final Corps and support army sought the worthy in Bakewia with my Engineer, Theodosios Eupraxia. There, they witnessed a group of lethargic artificers slip when creating enchantment crystals and watched the building explode in solemn silence. For days, they worked, delivering souls to the realms above just as the brave soul they sought toiled below, seeking to contain the magical flames, floods, and other plagues resulting from the arcane explosion.


    She saved far more lives than we delivered, working until mana fatigue forced her unconscious. Only to force herself away from the witches the moment she awoke. Such a tenacious battle saw her with a victory to be proud of as she took her final breath; only to take another when Theodosios palmed her chest. That brave soul then watched Daphne Aghah calm the extreme mana zone while Metis Ipro used her stroke of divinity to repair the damage done. Then, they ascended.


    Preem was where she was delivered, wherein her hair thickened into thick, wire-like locks, her eyes grew black and bulbous with red pupils, and her skin grew gray like steel. Her wings developed into skeletal things like mechanical arms that used thrust and heat to lift her off the ground as opposed to beating wings; and so it was, she was named the Industrial Valkyrie, Udalia Bebin.


    General Andromeda Kausalya sought out the worthy in Ligin, wherein she saw the courageous defend the weak throughout the dreary night. So great was their success that those they sought to protect knew not of the battle until the following day, wherein the locals endured the long trek to secure their water. When they arrived, they bore witness to a transformed environment. Terraced and quayed were the banks. Fountains and water troughs had been installed. And somewhere in the distance, Knights of the Undying Tempest could be seen.


    She bore witness to all that transpired, but after the dead completed their work, General Andromeda buried the valiant soul in a tomb and memorialized her efforts with a statue, then delivered her. Nocturne was the place of her deliverance, wherein her skin manifested to boast a shale-gray hue with white hair and all-black eyes. Her wings seemed to grow from scaly arms, yet they boasted feathers of a dark metal as opposed to the leathery texture I imagined; and so it was, she was named the Gloom Valkyrie, Lachesis Thost.


    At last, my Doctoral Witch sought out the worthy in Rhar, wherein the elves who thought so highly of themselves were seen as tyrants by the non-elven locals. They decided where the non-elven refuges would dwell in their forest and determined how much they could hunt, forage, and fell trees. Determined, the amount was, at the time of the settlements founding, taking no heed to humanity''s rapid population growth. Thus, as the generations passed, the refugees fell deeper into poverty. Being so deep into the ancient forest left them with little choice. They could either suffer as cowards as so many had done; or rise up like the braze soul witnessed by Echidna Imoo.


    While she was no hope against elves, she struck them where it hurt all the same, destroying swathes of their precious forests by poisoning the rivers downstream. While she was silenced, executed, and barbarically displayed as an example for all to see, her tale had been witnessed, her body had been recovered and buried with a blessed acorn in a safer place, and then she was delivered.


    In time, the liberation of her people would come. In time, the judgment of Rhar would come. In the meantime, the valiant soul was delivered to Lolea, wherein she realized her pale skin, red eyes, and black hair. Her wings, while still underdeveloped, were large and marked with red eyes like that of a moth''s; and so it was, she was named the Bloodmoon Valkyrie, Euphrosyne Shoubang.


    While the last of them was delivered merely two weeks ago, they all spent years on their respective worlds, mastering the art of war with spear, shield, bow, and divine magic. And now, at the end of such a long journey, we were here, on Brunhilde, ready to begin a journey anew.


    From high above the realm, we saw the worlds weave themselves into a line before their magic began to rain down. Thus we had little time to act. I turned to my young Valkyrie, now hardly younger than me, and met their eyes in turn as I gathered my divine mana. I looked upon their helms, tucked tightly under their arms, to visualize crowns, coronets, and diadems for the menagerie of masks. Then I began to state their names in order.


    "Pelagia Nagdauf." With the eagle-like half-helm.


    "Mohoana Claritia." Boasting a helm like that of a crow.


    "Udalia Bebin." Clutching a faceless helm of angular lines.


    "Elara Aghagan." Whose helm boasted whiskered fins.


    "Shivali Hemera." With a baroque helm like mine.


    "Fauna Amurdad." Holding a bug-like helm.


    "Euphrosyne Shoubang." Cradling a moth-like helm.


    "Mathildis Fidiadi." And her owl-like helm.


    "Meritides Proncruo." Whose helm appeared like a sea shell.


    "Steinunn Drist." Carrying her beaked helm.


    "Lachesis Thost." Grasping onto her draconian helm.


    "With these crowns, I name you Valkyrie Queens. Prime Celestials of Eotrom. Deliverers of the Noctis Legions. Mothers of new Valkyries, dedicated to the Gods of Eotrom. Dawn these crowns with reverence and serve with tenacious courage, my Queens, and go. Seek. See. Deliver." I told them, gripping my spear tightly to raise it high, chanting. "Only the worthy!"


    "We seek!"


    Their echoing chant saw them raise their Valkyrie Crowns high and don them proudly, bringing about a flash of energy that saw them mature as celestial beings. The superior abilities that were once augmented by their armor became one with them, as did their armor itself, growing their wings to their full size and awakening within them their own unique divine abilities. Then came the wake of our world.


    Like the others, it poised itself above Crater Lake and let loose its gilded energy. We found the comfort of our world released from our feet, now suspended above the Bodhi Peninsula, where we could see our next task as clearly as the worlds above.


    Everywhere we looked, we saw suffering; we saw death. It came from the diamond-dense mana, the thunderous storms, the emergence of magical or divine beasts, and the rise of the machines; from volcanic eruptions, intense mana zones and their evolutions; lands lifted into the heavens by the silver light and pits opened to the depths by the gilded darkness. The seas themselves howled. The sky itself sang. Gloom hissed in the background, harmonizing with the Legions'' praise as it thickened on the horizon.


    Our work was only beginning.

 338 - Drums of Desire

    "Rickley Ravenbrook. Thirteen years old and back from the dead as an Undying Fiend. Bard of Death. That has quite the title to it, huh?"


    A croak and a menacing grumble echoing off the walls was all I got as an answer from my ride. A frog that wasn''t really a frog at all. Or, if it was, it seemed to have been merged with a house. If not that, then a house was fitted into a hollow jewel embedded and hidden within the frog''s back. A house and a pond with a small garden and a sky made of transparent crystal. Connected, somehow, to the stomach and brain of this frog that wasn''t a frog.


    It could eat like a frog. But the contents of its stomach were made accessible to me. Dirt and wood to make a resting spot and a campfire near the pond. Animals and forage for Buke to butcher and cook up. Water to drink. Air to breathe. And so on and so on. So too could I control it, however. I could tell it what to eat. How and where to hide. Where to go. Not that I needed to. The frog knew my destination better than I did. And I had time to kill.


    Never before had I left Chor. Much less Nevstan. So it was with luxurious glee that my time was spent sightseeing. Watching the scattered forests of Vruria pass while I tinkered and toyed with my drum and a flute and horns galore. Seeking a theme to fit the lands passing by the day. Dreaming and eating and napping as the rolling hills and tundras of Ligin bounced by the night. If any hostiles appeared, they went unnoticed by me, for I''ve been in here, relaxing and coming to terms with my tenure into fiendish undeath.


    I found that while I was already one and would soon become the other, I was a bit like this frog as well. A¡­ machine. My throat appeared to be made of flesh but could ping like metal if flicked hard enough. My voice still reported the same. And yet, I could make it as high or low or loud or quiet as I willed it. All with a mere thought. My hair had grown back much quicker, thicker, and softer than it had ever grown before. It almost felt like silk that seemed to insist on forming locks or braids that somehow made studded tips for themselves. Quite amazingly of all was my lungs. Their capacity was infinite, it seemed. For hours I could play on a single breath, echoing wordless tales of sorrow and joy in my mobile abode.


    If any passersby approached, I was certain of my songs and my very being remaining unheard and unseen. For they could have only witnessed a massive frog of vibrant color thrumming against the ground like the drums of war. Convincing, I was sure, all but the bravest souls to seek a different way around the lumbering beast. For all they would surely see was a giant frog on a dutiful stroll. Most likely seeking a mate.


    It was all so beautiful. Everything. And yet so ugly in comparison to what I soon witnessed.


    It came maybe three days after I left Chor. In the morning, just before dawn. Yet I noticed it only in hindsight; the sky behind my window grew brighter. Uniformly so. Not by the concentrated light of the rising sun. But it was the anticipation of that light that brought my eyes to the sight.


    Seeking some fresh air for a change, I climbed atop the head of my humble abode to skitter up a ladder and unfurl the trapdoor into the shaded saddle that crowned the frog''s head. The moment I sat on my little throne was when I first laid eyes on it. Knowing the rising sun would be across the mountains, I at least wanted to bear witness to the creatures of the night returning to their burrows while the creatures of the light rose from their slumber. Instead, I saw only darkness. I heard only sloshing water. Rushing water. Like rapids or a waterfall. No more thrumming against the ground, for the frog was swimming swiftly through a canal. Only then, as I turned in my seat, did I notice the gilded hue of the skies fading behind the tunnel entrance. But even then, I thought nothing of it.


    Nothing was what I thought, I realized as the frog swiftly approached the golden point of the exit. And so too was there nothing to think after, for I bore witness to the unthinkable.


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    Seeking that night sky so bright, I lifted my gaze the moment we emerged, finding not a vibrant sky of spherical realms but a vibrant skyscape of silver-speckled blue. Beneath me, however, was its antithesis- that gilded darkness.


    It was almost as if the bright night made something cold, vile, and malevolent awaken in the furthest depths of reality before it spat it out, allowing that something to reach its hand to the surface, making the shadows writhe with malicious glee. Seeking my destination, however, the frog leaped from the canal, pulling me and my gaze down into a pit of darkness as a pillar of golden light ejected from its depths; the hand, reaching out.


    Into the skies it rose, and with tremendous speed. Not to meet with the descending beam of silver in a devastating display of power, but to strike against the Second Sun and scatter into a night sky filled with countless starry motes.


    How beautiful, that sky was. How a sky should have been. Filled with countless possibilities that made one dream. But alas, that beauty was cut short when the frog plummeted deeper into that stream.


    Even now, I know not what I expected. But I know it was nothing good. And yet, that could hardly describe the eternal second spent within that light. It was as if I entered an infant and emerged with the mind of an elder trapped in the body of a youthful woman. I felt¡­ complete. Changed in body and mind. Upgraded, every detail perfected. Blessed by an invisible hand. I wanted to cry when it faded. That was how great the glory was. Capable of bringing despair when it was lost. A despair that birthed a hunger to seek more; a fervor in both me and the frog. And so, we swam at higher and higher speeds until we came upon the most inspiring landscape. A grandiose, underground city.


    Two trees, divine in differing ways, dominated the domain. Gnarled around each other, they were, atop a hill of magical stones and ore where they looked over winding rivers of dark waters and forests of dusky leaves. Such inspiring sights bore thrums from both the frog and my lute that soon melded with the gothic hums of the morbid and the sonorous growls of beasts.


    We continued on. We played further. We traveled, ever so slowly to the edge of that forest of dusk. Over a moat of umbral waters. Into a court of black marble and bloody flora to stop before a choir of vampires singing in tune to the beings of shadow, banging on drums and gongs to the tune of my frog. Devils and pale ones chanted in an eldritch tongue. Seemingly to a large woman of midnight skin and silver hair, lounging atop a dais.


    How regally menacing she looked. How familiar the¡­ essence¡­ pouring off of her was. How comforted she seemed by my song. So comforting that I jumped down from the frog and had it hop away while I played on and on and on until I looked up and froze.


    A hundred memories rushed into my mind as I met those eyes, so familiar and yet so foreign. Instantly, I was reminded of the sole being to treat me with true kindness while I was alive. I remembered the one who helped me and helped me again once I fell down this dark path. The one I''d hoped and prayed to meet again. Despite me knowing I hardly deserved it.


    He was the same. That I knew. And yet, Amun was so different. Where his teeth were once¡­ normal, they were now twin rows of sharpened shark-like teeth. Where his eyes were once blacker than black spheres amongst a realm of white, they were now white irises with draconic pupils set within dissimilar realms; a blue sclera speckled with silver on the right and black flecked with gold on the left. His hair, once as dark as the night he claimed, was white like the purest snow and wreathed in a diadem of pure arcana; blueish-green like the summer sea and formed in ways that reminded me of runes, tilted back against his head like a knight''s visor. But instead of a helm of steel, arcane fire trailed from the upper rim, casting glows of silver and gold on his nightly frame and nothing else.


    Seemingly unaware of the blue veins stretching down his forearms, he stood yet remained inverted on his sphere and reached down. In turn, I reached up to grasp his hand and was blinded by the light of his headdress. So brightly, it burned, that I was forced to look within and come to terms with the swirling mana within my spirit. More mana than I''d ever seen in my life, orbited by a dark mass of something wicked.


    "So¡­" I looked outward to meet Amun''s divine eyes. Hoping to hear an answer I knew was to come. "I''m... I''m your bard?"


    "That you are." He beamed wide enough to make me burst. But I held it in, allowing only a thrilled hum to ripple into the night.


    "Hmm. Hehe. Nice!"

 339 - Transport Revolution

    Imperator Edward Pascal.


    3rd Legion, the Cogs of Eotrom.


    ***


    Not to discount the others and not to complain, but I had the most on my plate out of all the founders. I was Amun''s Chief Engineer. I was the 3rd Legion''s Imperator. I was to be Eotrom''s God of Industry. So too was I the proprietor of Pascal Industries. I was the sponsor of Winwell, initially, and then Atford County as a whole. That encompassed a lot. Yet I was never understaffed. The other founders in my Legion had ever-increasing numbers. The undead forever increased in number, as did the prospective tinkerers of Bakewia who came from far and wide, but in some cases, I also sought them out.


    In any case, they trickled in after Amun and his growing Troupe left Bakewia at the end of Ianua. However, they were received by my Doppelganger, Ed, on the base floor of my tower. As I was on the floors above, fully melded into the divine energies spread throughout the floor to bring my next project to fruition.


    The birth of Kit and the Omni-Wagon saw the need for Umas to be created for the rest of the Legions'' founders. However, it came with the condition that Zeta, or Capital-Class Umas were only to be given to those who met the requirements to command a legion. Everyone else was to get an Alpha-Class Uma. Thus I sent out a request at once, stating my need to borrow their deeply rooted wise rocks along with a creature felled by them or brought from their woven worlds. Of course, a data packet was sent along with the request, containing everything they needed to know about the machines in ways easiest for them to understand. Even without them, however, I suspected the response times would have been just as fast.


    My vehicles were that well-received.


    Naturally, I made mine first. She was born from a burrowing centipede native to my home world, Preem; or the Planet of Resource Extraction, Engineering, and Manufacturing. Due to the world''s industrial nature, the centipede had a body of cogs laid side by side and preyed on the metal of other creatures, using its ''venom'' to melt their components and drink the slurry for its ends. Now that the Cogipede was merged with my tower, my home and workspace were separated, with the former being at the head and the latter at the tail, where they could connect whenever the Uma circled around to bite its tail as it so often did in life. At all other times, no less than nineteen modules sat between them. Two for each of my eight corps, plus a city for them to run wild in during their off times.


    While Elsgril and Forgruna went off to Mazi, Matthew Reid and Quinn Leonhart remained in Bakewia to take demolition and construction requests to improve the roads and add fuel stations across the country. Their perks as artificers coupled with Amun''s blessings saw the work finished in days. Thus, with their work done, they were in place to see the Uma come to life and crawl along the newly constructed road to Shavew, where it stopped a ways away from the gates to curve in on itself and bite its tail.


    That alone invoked a wave of potential workers, citizens, and Legionaries eager to see the exotic contraption. The advertisement I sent across the ManaNet saw even more arrive before the day was done; including an expectedly unexpected gnome.


    I wasn''t too versed with the species, so I only knew her to be young for her kind, and yet older than me. She was maybe 110 centimeters tall, with a curly brown afro protruding from a loosely tied bandanna and thick goggles. A pair of heavily armored greaves, a pauldron, and a thick tool belt were all she wore besides a smithy apron, some white shorts, and a tunic the same light blue as her bandanna. Alone, that was insignificant. But her signature on the ManaNet and her introduction made that a different story.


    "Hey-hey! Down here! Over here! It''s me, Zazz! Zazz Zeelba!"


    "Ed''s Engineer?" I snorted, reading her signature. "I never consented to that, you know."


    "Aha ha!" She waved an armored glove. "That''s why it''s a question, it is! And I''m gonna be your engineer, I am! But that''s not why I''m here. My Pa wants to meet you."


    "Your... Pa?" I canted my head.


    "The King of Bakewia. King Zapp Zeelba."


    Therein marked the start of my first staff officer''s service and the beginning of my journey across the northern coast. Of course, I recruited Eomen first, yet they wanted to create and serve in my industrial army, navy, aerial force, and support corps; seeing as how the other industrial aspects were covered by Elsgril and the others. Thus I elected to find the best and brightest of various nations for my staff.


    King Zeelba wound up being just as eccentric as his nephew, Zook, and Zook''s daughter, Zoop. He served me, Matthew, and Quinn, a grand feast and thanked us profusely for our work throughout. Then thanked us more once we were given an impromptu show of Hogaz wiping out the pirates of Shujen Bay; during which, the gnomes veritably drolled at the Moonsliver. While dinner was winding down, he told us that with Atford County uplifted and a new, vehicle-ready road looping across the entire country, they could finally gain their independence from Vruria and cease being a Protectorate. In turn, he stated his first order of business would be to ally themselves with the 3rd Legion and Eotrom.


    I congratulated him on his achievement and accepted his offer with gratitude before sharing my plans going forward. In short, I''d be extending my work elsewhere. First to Knighilia and then to Nevstan and Mazi, as Shujen was currently being ''uplifted'' by Zaraxus. By the middle of the year, Bakewia should be connected through to Chor. Perhaps more.


    Another round of profuse gratitude was given while our dinner wound down and was eventually punctuated by Zazz stepping before her father to ask. "Can I accompany them?"


    "Of course, you have my permission. However," he turned to me. "That is up to you to decide. Will you accept responsibility for my daughter?"


    As stated, she wound up being my engineer. My first officer, but not my Executor. That title belonged to a man of 66 years who was chatting it up with my Doppelganger when we returned from our dinner, Lou Lytos, a retiree of the Bakewian royal guard. My Doppelganger saw to it to whip him into shape by the time we got underway, ensuring he understood our standards while putting his invaluable experience to use in shaping our subculture; allowing me to spend the majority of my time on my task. And changing my plans.


    Hogaz killed the pirates I aimed to use as an experiment for the new toys I intended to make. While unfortunate, the fault was mine for not claiming them first, thus he had to be rewarded in some way. That said, Amun claimed the creation of Hogaz''s Zeta-Class Uma. Thus I was relegated to upgrading his existing ships before hiding them in a spot of Amun''s choosing. And upgrade them I did.


    The enchantments for forcefields, smoke screens, torch-powered engineering bays, and flight capabilities aside, I automated the weapons bays on all of their ships and fitted their spell cannons with various enchantments, allowing them to construct fresh munitions from their resource reserves and fit them with tungsten warheads.


    After that came the real work. And the first Uma in many regards was the most complicated. It was the first to arrive and thus the first I would work on, belonging to the 1st Legion''s Imperator.


    Toril sent his Tempest Griffon''s egg, of all things. Not to say I was surprised. I only struggled to make a design for the damn thing. It took until we crossed the Knighilian border to remember Toril''s preference for open skies and vehicles that left him open and free. So, I merged his griffon egg with a heavily modified version of the levitating chair Amun gave Iris, then fitted the voluminous interior and mountainous throne with the wise rocks of the many founders in his Legion.


    Coupled with some materials born from his world and the nature of the egg itself, the Uma boasted the innate ability to render itself invisible in the air or show itself to the realm below as it pleased, appearing as a gargantuan dark thundercloud that could take whatever shape its owner desired.


    The completion of the Zeta-Class Uma, Fulgum, left me with a small break that I spent surveying the lands of Knighilia. It was both the most tamed and the most untouched land in all the Peninsula, based on all I''d seen. Like in Kasia, everything beyond the roads went largely untouched by civilization. The inhabitants occupied eccentric wizard towers and beautiful city-sized castles. But unlike Kasia, the snowy forests were pristine, with many a magic beast calling them home.


    Less than 100 kilometers past the border was the first Knighilian city we came upon. Belldyard. One of the few settlements with a focus on trade due to its proximity to Bakewia. Being on the other side of Atford County made it all the better, as they were higher in elevation and thus were looking down on the Bakewian city of Soralerameno while Quinn was doing his work. That coupled with this undoubtedly magical vehicle of mine opened the proverbial door to the Grenholdia Canton. We were in contact with the rulers within hours, with the deal''s essentials being their exclusive access to study some arcane industrial materials in exchange for permission to construct a transportation hut and a fuel depot.


    Construction was underway by that night. By morning, the Fabrication perk saw the buildings complete and the Cogipede was underway to the capital in the heart of the country, traveling slower in its road layer configuration. Likewise, Quinn, Lou, and my four corps commanders were scattered to the arterial roads, where they were sure to gather more recruits as they passed each city. Meanwhile, I continued my work. Jaimess sent over a massive draconic centipede-like thing he killed last year during our training with Amun. After learning of its electrostatic properties, I ensured to harvest as many scales as I could while ensuring to leave enough for the temple existing in the lair stone to be wreathed in armor.


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    When Riheb took form, Jaimess'' temple extended down the length of the body akin to a tunnel; a mountainous jungle of a tunnel, straddled by countless shoulder blades- alcoves leading down to the towers and temples of his many subordinates.


    We arrived at Dawnrungar by the time the last pair of legs were complete and the thing was sent to hide in his woven world like Toril''s. The Republic of Knighilia''s Capital was in a time of celebration due to Hogaz''s exploits in ridding the waters of pirates. And with him sailing off to the Great Ligin Bay, we were auspiciously left to receive his credit and more, receive requests. To take advantage of their newly liberated waterways, I got a commission to build a transportation hub on the other side of the Shavewell River. Within would be arcane skyports and harbors for both personnel and freight, alongside a driving track to teach a new fleet of operators just like in Bakewia. To that end, I gave Zazz her first task, overseen by my Doppelganger, and in turn, gained two more officers throughout the construction.


    Ah''l L''eti was a high elf of 49 years who nearly became desperate after I told him the nature of a Technical Wizard. The half-high elf, on the other hand, was a lot more tame about the idea of becoming a doctoral witch. Both, however, virtually frothed at the mouth when I shared my blueprints for improvements to wands and broomsticks, based on the concept of firearms and the Bodhi Tree''s emergency capsules. So, at the age of 27, Dorrn Everwood swore into the Legion alongside Ah''l.


    While they trained and the others worked, I got to work on the Uma I was most excited and worried about. Roheisa''s Vulcanox. Although there was no need for such worry, as Amun insisted he would take the blame should things go awry. But I had faith that Roheisa would appreciate the crawling mountain, Mount Craelin, I made for her.


    We were done in Knighilia by the 16th of Duotra and off to Shujen without delay. By then, even the newest additions were in the swing of things, and thus Matthew Reid and my Doppelganger took them to collaborate on those promised projects; a new type of wand and broomstick for the Legions and their auxiliaries- the allied and often weaker nations we would support in the future.


    What they helped Ah''l design was a smaller, more versatile version of the spell cannon. A broomstick-sized, long-range wand that could fire several basic spells; Bullets, Bolts, Sealing Spells, Trap Spells, and even Domains. The best part was that it could be used by anyone who could manipulate mana, evolved or not, as all that was needed to fire was the release of some mana from the index finger into a crystalline trigger. Crystalline threads would transfer the energy through the tip of an Interchangeable cartridge inserted just before the trigger guard, changing the mana to the affinity imbued in the cartridge before shooting it through the other thread, out the tapered end. Due to that, its versatility was limited only by the number of cartridges one could carry, giving them potentially more affinities than Amun''s Zodiac crossbow.


    The only downside was the cost. That, and the name, which needed far more work than the item. The stock and frame had to be made of wood from a divine tree, as anything else would burn, melt, or be scorched from the energy contained in the crystal threads. Thus the Ranged Arcana Projeting Heavy Enhanced Wand; or Raphew, was limited in supply.


    For the witches, they designed a highly mobile if not quite large broomstick that could fit all the assets of a witch hut, including their patients, inside. The intent was for the witches to be able to pull the wounded out of hostile environments and keep them stable, if not treat them during transport. Called the Portable Operating Table for Trauma, Emergencies, and Rescues, or the POTTER Mk I, we could only wait and see if it would have the same success as the Raphew.


    In the meantime, Peter, Veil of Shadows, Rua, and Amun''s walks through Shujen''s wilds and Zaraxus'' work in the cities left little in the way of sightseeing. Thus my attention was turned to the Dusk Owl sent over by Lucia while we snaked through the country''s underground. it was one of the simpler ones, it turned out, as Lucia''s castle of bronze fit perfectly inside the creature''s chest; and its divine nature made it all the easier to finish her Zeta Class Uma, Freya. Due to that, I was at the forefront of the Cogipede''s exit when we stopped before the Principality of Nevstan''s border some 8 days later.


    We noticed it before we surfaced. We saw it on the map when planning and the Cogipede sensed it long before we approached. Yet were were still humbled to surface and witness the gargantuan wall encircling the country. It was the first and largest of our tasks in the region, given the severity of the issue. So I called ahead to Willard Rowe in Chor, who put me in contact with Princess Nevstan''s court so I could explain the nature of the poison her walls were insulated with.


    The work got underway in short order after that. Even then though, she saw fit to travel all the way from the capital of Laststarow to the western wall to have dinner with me. I didn''t know what I expected or why I deserved such a meeting, but I was surprised to find a strifling with sulfuric-yellow skin and horns growing out of her brows bouncing into my abode. Nor did I expect her to be utterly infatuated with Jaimess. Or, as she called him, the Tengu Tamer. She talked about him constantly, refusing to let up even after I relocated the country''s geographical center and sent my subordinates on a path to each city to rid their walls and buildings of asbestos. It got so bad I had to bring Willard and Ritrix in just to get some work done. But even then, I had to chime in over the Net every once in a while, lest she try and force her way into my Creation Station.


    That wouldn''t have boded well. For I was creating Opal''s sanctuary out of a Gloom Pit Viper. A perfect fit, it wound up being, as the beast''s nature allowed it to burrow in darkness and solid ground alike. Not to mention fly or swim when needed. The aftermath was a different story, however.


    Our tasks were completed by the 16th of Trescia. Thus our juniors took to the shores of Crater Lake and the Misthand River to build harbors, shipyards, quays, sky ports, and other such structures while some of the staff backtracked to Shujen. Namely to study Amun''s works in the growing necropolis and to recruit our newest staff member as well.


    He was pointed out by Zaraxus on the Net. A blue-skinned strifling of 11 years named Lahkrius, who''d been tinkering alongside the undead. Thus Zaraxus saw fit to teach him how to lead and fight, and he''d been learning well. While he was young, his training would see him mature in record time. Thus he was named as my Marshal and began the next part of his training while the others shifted to moving people across the countries or relocating those who wanted to join other Legions.


    Part of that training consisted of him observing me create Peter''s Uma. Born from a soft-shell turtle in his world, it was one of the simpler crafts to make. Especially when I got my hands on the outrageous terrariums they began to make. Thus I moved on to Zakira''s Uma out of a Lunar Moth, creating something like Lucia''s but with an open-air theme. Well, my doppelganger did. I was occupied with more civil matters with Princess Nevstan. Despite that, I managed to copy everyone else and recruit a halfling for my civil chief. A woman of 24 years who called herself Yerda Sprigmore. A chore native, she was. Thus she talked up the Princess while I went back to the station to create the last two Zeta-Class Uma.


    The largest Uma, they were, due to the nature of their Imperators. The home of the 10th Legion was a Blue Sky Whale that grew a forest on its back as opposed to a field of barnacles. It even had a few lakes populated with fish native to both above and below. The interior, however, went from countless perches, docking bays, and hangars to industrial-military complexes and residential nests the closer one got to the center. The second was a posh castle made from a Boulder Crab. Like the whale, the exterior was kept natural but lined with caves for the shadow draconic creatures of the 11th Legion and their isolative members. What was more, it was made to be modular, and thus capable of docking and undocking with other boulder crab Umas.


    Throughout it all, this divine magic all over my workspace paired with the zealous behavior of Lois and Horace leading my civilians produced recurring thoughts in my mind. Memories, more like. About what Etan said.


    The uncanny resemblance aside, he repeated the same things Amun himself said, but in ways that made the facts far more impactful.


    Imagining the technological prowess of the beings in Amun''s original realm was nigh impossible, for magic had been part of our lives since birth. Even the ancients from before the portals opened could manipulate the elements and obtain classes. Many of us were taught to perform chores with elemental manipulation. Yet they didn''t even have that. Amun''s ancients had to make tools just to dig into the ground. Sweeping was done with brooms made of entwined sticks, not manipulating air. They started fires by rubbing sticks together. Water had to be prospected and carried to their homes in jars they made by hand. If not, they had to dig for it or rely on the rain.


    Those were just the basics. But in a time equal to the portals opening to the present day, Amun''s people stepped out of the ''Dark Age'' of their tiny world and into their fleets of manufactured void cities scattered across an area greater than that of the Mortal Plane. They constructed empires in that lifeless expanse, equal in space and greater in power than Maru, Betrarth, or even Youtera. Truly, they were divine. For me to then be gifted their seemingly infinite knowledge was truly a blessing.


    So it was, I''d been toying with the idea of becoming a cleric to the ArcaTech. Or a paladin, assuming I could be knighted. Of course, there was no religion for Amun''s Engineering domain; yet. Even then, though, Iris seemed as if she would become his cleric. And if she could, so could I. That said, there was no need to pray to him, for I had been giving him worship through the very act of working all along. And I''d been working for over half a decade. And so, I continued working, but with reverence. I continued developing, even as the worlds wove themselves above Crater Lake on that fated day. I continued creating, even as reality itself began to change around me.


    Even as my legendary armor began to change; disintegrating into a stream of blue circuits that snaked into my frame and my store of wise rocks; changing, shifting- augmenting them and me into something new, I continued creating, I kept researching, planning for my expansion into Mazi, even as grimoire flipped to an empty page imbued with deep blue energy to inscribe tantalizing words before my eyes.


    [Blessing of the ArcaTech Received: [Evolution] - Augmentation, Grim Gear Bio-Frame.]


    [The touch of divinity that has been seeded within you has integrated your mind, body, spirit, and soul with your Legendary Armor, Grim Gear Mk IV, and the essence of the ArcaTech, turning you into an Augmented Human.]


    [Blessing of the ArcaTech Received: [Mutation] - Technomancy Integration Core.]


    [Your evolution has seen a Sorcerous ability awaken within your spirit, evolving your artificing prowess into a blood-born ability to integrate any piece of technology you can find or design with your Grim Gear Bio-Frame.]

 340 - Vengeful Acrospire

    Reina Featherfall.


    ***


    It made me sad, knowing the Blighted Woods was no more. It was the only place in which I''d known comfort, perhaps never to be found again; not without struggle, nor strife.


    The melancholia that birthed pulled at my heart as I fledged. So much that I felt as if a piece of soul remained on that cliff before I jumped. Though cooled by the long night, the winds singed tears from my eyes like the airs of roasted peppers rushing over my face. Perhaps because it was the final link to my past, my eyes remained on that grove; now severed and replaced by a forest of silver like my former nest- the nest I destroyed.


    Even if I were to return, there would be nothing to compare my memories to. There would be no way to tell if the nightmare I lived through was real or some cruel dream. For others, at least. My past would torment me forever. Despite the assumed paradise of the present or my hopes for the future, that would remain true until the end of time.


    "To think you were chosen not by a Mother of Nature but The Father of Evolution is quite remarkable."


    In truth, that was the reason my head remained craned back to stare at the groves until they disappeared behind the mountains of Rhar and then proceeded to turn my sights among the mountains I so fantasied about for years; the ghosts of my past remained behind me. Ghosts but not ghosts; living or unliving vestiges with bodies solid and amorphous alike.


    Ignoring them was easy, for the most part. For, even in the dark of the morning, I could see everything in endless shades of gray. Moreover, I could see the many cities and settlements as miniature suns scattered across a dozen different landscapes. The smallest of them was to the southwest, where a never-ending sprawl of gray lumps stretched to the coast. But that was no surprise, based on what I''ve learned about the denizens of Rhar. Their neighbor''s lands seemed much more dreary, though.


    Even from as high as the mountains, the abrupt end of the lush forest could spotted easily. From the mountains to the southern coast, it seemed to be nothing more than walled cities and vast camps of wood and bone piled atop unceasing grasslands and ashed forests. More torches were seen waving across the hills than within the walls. Warbands, I assumed. Always looking for a fight for reasons unknown.


    The far side of the mountain held better sights, however. Just below, on the mountainside, I could see massive strips cut into the mountains like stairs made for a giant. Only these were filled with strange snow prints that suggested they be pastures instead. Whatever they were, I could imagine the amazing views that accompanied the end of their day and the songs and games they''d play as they waited for the sun to peer over the mountain and warm their homes. Likewise, I imagined the residents of Ligin spent many hours a day looking up the mountains from their vast cities. Like castles built into towns, they were. Ever patrolled by the flying riders who protect the people against the mounted highlanders. But even that was tame in comparison to what was below.


    The volcano that unceremoniously blew months ago still had a simmering caldera that warmed me and Percival up nicely as we flew overhead. But from then on it was only mountains. Mountainous roads populated by strange carriages that lumbered across the ground at impressive paces. Or in some cases, flew faster than birds.


    I spent a full day watching those lands pass by, hardly realizing I never ate, drank, slept, or even relieved myself. I was enraptured, up until the point there was nothing new to see. So, with no more past to look at and a future blocked by my ghosts, I could only turn and face the present- a gaunt woman who once seemed young. Now, her skin was like tanned leather. Poorly tanned leather. Rotten in places like the throat and filled in, it seemed, with golden embers, black stone, and violet bark.


    "Them I understand." I gestured to the other two ghosts. Ghosts of darkness and endless shades of gray that somehow distinguished themselves into the hated forms of an elven man and a human woman with glowing green scars. "There is only one family in all the realms with this power. But what of you, former Archdruid?"


    She missed not the sneer in my voice. Yet, her snicker wasn''t remotely tied to my disdain.


    "All but my shell has been sent to the Underworld. My organs. My flesh and bone. My brain. All gone. The skin that remained was taken by the Father of Evolution''s hand and melded- engineered with the essence of nature, remade with the elements. So, when my soul was spat out of the Underworld." She spread her spindly arms to showcase the moss enveloping her form like a robe, unfurling into something that seemed eerily similar to feathers. "This is where it went. My body is of wood and stone. And flesh, Reina.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    "Just. Like. Yours."


    "W- what?" my eyes darted between my undead parents and the abject disgust on their faces. "How?" I asked, knowing- remembering the signs; the creaking when I stretched, the staff of crystallized flesh, the whispers.


    "Your Patron is the Elven Devil, Reina. You are to be-"


    "The Flesh Mother," I murmured. Eliciting another snicker from the head druid and silent convulsions from my umbral parents. "My druid craft has been corrupted to manipulate¡­ flesh. Biomass. And, I''m to use it to¡­ change¡­ to birth life. And you¡­"


    "Your Umbra Emperor." She nodded. "So you no longer have to call me Archdruid. You may name me as you please."


    ''Very well, Bitch.'' I wanted to say. But simply waved the matter off. Yet, she persisted.


    "So too have you been blessed."


    I awaited an explanation but found nothing. Not even when I turned to face her. She only looked up to the Silver Eye, which had gotten so bright it decided to bleed a blue aura into the morning sky.


    So many questions were birthed from that sight. Questions that could hardly be comprehended, much less articulated. And so, I watched. For hours upon hours, I watched while Percival flew. He flew while I, Reina, watched the Silver Eye blink; shedding a tear that seemed everlasting in the eyes of mortals. I watched and my hated companions observed the darkness below spew a golden breath into the sky to match that silver-blue river with a speckled sea of ink.


    I watched the mana around me rise and felt the mana within me condense until they both solidified in a crystalline web and imploded into the highest concentration of power made accessible to the spirits of mortals. I watched the wave of arcana encompass the Bodhi Peninsula. I witnessed countless creatures drink the energy and evolve into stronger more intelligent versions of themselves as the sentient beings around them suffered, and then I yelped as Percival dipped inside that golden breath.


    Then, I knew of duality.


    I became aware of my powers of pestilence and purity; of cyclic darkness and light- my curse and my blessing. The Flesh Mother''s Druidic Sphere of Twilight. I could sense the abnormalities in my body; the divinely cursed wood in my bones, able to be manipulated in the same way as a high orc. I could feel my eyes and ears and nose of alien flesh that could sense far beyond the purview of an elf. I could hear the voices of a million creatures asking philosophical questions for the first time in their lives; the thoughts of animals and plants long dead; the whispers of a thousand creatures emptying their lungs for a final time, only to breathe in fresh air once more.


    I knew, somehow, that like me, the realm itself was evolving. Yet, I could not witness its glory. For another glory demanded my presence.


    A final lurch saw Percival dive with tremendous speed. So fast, we went, that the world went dark and the wind disappeared for a split second. The light was far dimmer when we lifted from our dive, however. The air was much warmer, yet filled with an unmistakable cold that slithered through my nostrils to awaken the images I burned into my memory just over a day ago. Only, it was everything I could ever dream of and nothing like I imagined.


    It was like Redagh- the Blighted Woods, during those special times when the leaves turned orange and purple and black moss stretched across the hills. But unlike there, the sun sat on the horizon, casting long shadows and low rays across a vast court or castle of sorts, forever illuminating a pair of intertwined divine trees beneath a sea of stars. A cosmic ocean, it was, with floating islands filled with countless people. So many people. Goblins, humans, orcs, gnomes, elves, halflings, dwarves, dragonborne, vampires, undead, devils, and more; and all accompanied by animals of all types. Creatures big and small. Natural and magical. Living and dead. Felines and rodents and owls. So many owls.


    How they swarmed around me and Percival was thrilling. How the people cheered as I approached was enlightening. Oh, how I wanted to meet them! To talk with them; learn where they were from; and be told why they were blessed; but instead, the cats and rats and minks and otters and owls- so many owls guided me closer to that massive structure of metal and stone, blood and bone.


    It was there, before a massive cathedral, a cliffside nest, and some sort of lair; poised beneath a statue of the Owl, where I met my first drow. Drow, and my first several vampires. And others like me: a boy with a skeletal arm and a gaunt halfling girl. And others who were¡­ brighter. A girl in blue; a drow with golden eyes; A large woman and an even larger man who both seemed¡­ bestial, like a few of the girls.


    The animals that herded me here looked upon them just as intently as I did. Then they began moving differently. Behaving strangely. A few developed a noticeable spark in their eyes, the one seen in intelligent creatures. But I assumed it was a trick of the light until they crowded around the drow with eldritch eyes.


    More changes came as he met their eyes and offered a pat on the head, a rub on the belly, or a boop on the snoot. In all cases, they... evolved. Some developed toxic hues. Others began leaking smoky trails of darkness from their hides or held eyes filled with death. A few were drenched in water or sparked with lightning. And at least one. My owl, Percival, became wreathed in golden light.


    He spun around to face me, that owl. With eyes like the starry fields above, he looked at me incredulously and turned back to the fiendish drow to scuttle forward, wings spread wide.


    "I suppose it''s just rude to stay up here," I muttered, leaping down from Percival''s back to stand beneath the assembled party. "Hello! Ev- everyone." I waved to each of them with my best smile. "My name is Reina Featherfall. The¡­ uh, Flesh... Mother. I... Well, I''m a druid." I giggled. "Of twilight."


    "I''m so excited to begin our adventures!"

 341 - Skimming Skies

    Imperator Duke.


    10th Legion, the Sky Skimmers.


    ***


    Nothing ever went as expected when Amun was involved. That was something I learned long ago.


    I thought the Bodhi Tree to be one thing. Only to be proven wrong by Jaimess Winston bullying those less fortunate.


    I knew Amun''s clan to be entirely malevolent in all but one case. Only to be proven wrong by him standing up for Peter and rising to lead our class benevolently.


    I thought our instructors would teach us things we never considered. Only to be proven wrong when Amun announced the opening chapter of his guild.


    I thought I would lead a corps of flight specialists. Only to be proven wrong when a squadron of prospective mages accompanied the few Sapiavi who flocked to me.


    I thought I knew what technology could do. Only to be proven wrong when Iris Cole appeared before me; a human merged with the machine.


    She birthed within me a drive to become more proficient with the technology Amun was introducing to the realms. The devices of the three networks, ManaNet, VoidNet, and NoxNet. The vehicles created by Edward. The augmentations created by them both. Thus I began tinkering- we began tinkering, giving worship to the ArcaTech by bettering our knowledge and skills. We used the blessings granted to us to design, develop, and create our fleet of sky ships. Yet still, those two sent more machinations that never ceased to impress me.


    Naturally, my first task beyond that was for each of my subordinates to master the art of flying at the altitudes and speeds I could. Or close to them. What I did not expect, however, was to create the first-ever Advanced Skill Training Course in the Legions as a result.


    While I was attempting to surpass the speed of sound in Rhar, my Doppelganger had been above the mountains, using my tower as an impromptu training ground for my subordinates and the machines sent over by Amun and Edward. With the help of my fellow Sapiavi and Civil Chief, Kerck, as well as my Engineer, Quaa, the course became more structured and streamlined as the days grew into weeks, eventually creating a course that Legionaries could come to for advanced flight certifications.


    Naturally, each of my members had to go through the course in its entirety. After the entry level, they were educated, trained, and tested on their prowess using the MagiTech flight aids designed by Edward for us. The Combative Aerial Mobility Satchel, or CAMS, as they were called, was nothing more than an armored satchel worn on the small of the back; filled with several enchantments and devices. To anyone outside the Legions, that was it. In tandem with the Noxweave in our uniforms, however, the stitching within came alive with deep blue energy.


    They weaved into the devices and our bodies alike, those stitchings, burrowing into our spirits, minds, and bodies in ways that powered our gear, untethered us from the ground and amplified our magical or mana-molding prowess. It intensified our mana veils into nearly solid things, enveloping us in a suit and mask of crystalline feathers that provided us with air in higher altitudes, sealed us away from extremely low pressures, and kept our bodies both warm and cool. Above all, it integrated with the NoxNet to fill our field of view with an array of information, giving us a wide range of flight data in real time. Even for my fellow Sapiavi, it was invaluable, for it allowed them to know my precise speed, altitude, heading, the air currents, and where the horizon was, even as we flew through clouds or otherwise visually limiting conditions.


    To that end, learning the meaning of each symbol in our altered reality was paramount before the Legionaries moved on to the second phase of their training, wherein they familiarized themselves with the Aerial Vehicular Armor; or AVA.


    No matter if it was the altered Valkyrie Armor or light-powered armor like mine, the piece of MagiTech acted like a suit of armor for our armor. It boasted enchantments and machines alike to boost the offensive, defensive, and maneuvering capabilities of each unit, allowing them to operate at full capacity in the air almost indefinitely. To do so, they were made much larger than any suit of armor ever seen. They were around the size of the smaller fighting aircraft Edward made, yet still functioned as armor. The increased space allowed for all the essentials to be housed on a platform that could remain in the skies while we descended; allowing us to use it as a mobile base if needed.


    Only when we mastered maintaining and operating them did we move on to the fleet of proper aircraft; and there were many. 1 and 2-person fighters. Manned and unmanned vehicles for reconnaissance and surveying. Massive bird or fish-like things that could transport uncountable tons of resources- or people.


    We all mastered the CAMS, AVA, and Sky Ships. But of course, we all favored one over the other. Thus my Corps were born, or the first three at least. Cams Wing, Wing Ava, and the Skimmer Wing. The final Wing wasn''t established until later when a new flock and a shipment of heavily armed aircraft caused a drastic shift in our focus.


    It happened just before Edward entered Knighilia. In addition to sending them, he shared the blueprints for the Spell Cannons invented in Bakewia some time ago, then released his upgraded MagiTech and ArcaTech versions to us; including variations for our sky ships.


    They were¡­ incredible. Devastatingly so. However, they gave Marshal Kanti Fifif and General Saraid Fausta a grand idea. They took the other humans boasting affinity cores along with those with elvish blood and focused only on spellcraft, aiming to create a class of specialized spells for long-range engagements. In effect, it required us to create the first-ever school of magic in the Empire; and more, an entirely new class of spells. War Spells; based on the humble Bullet and Bolt Spells.


    The results were both mana-intensive and miraculous.


    The formula the mages worked out required them to form some sort of hollow shell of mana, in which they imbued the trap spell of their choice before laying spell after spell atop it like feathers around a central body. Stages, Amun called it. One or many explosive trap spells may be packed inside the shell, for example, and given the condition to detonate at a certain altitude, after a certain time, or simply when they hit something. Another inlaid spell would guide it to its target in flight. Another spell was designed to send it flying in the first place. Yet another spell was designed to merge the parts into a single spell. With this, simple bullet spells could be extended in range and fired in great arcs to land on distant targets; Mortar or Artillery Spells. So too could they be made to explode in midair; Flak Spells. Domain spells could be packed with energy and released from the skies to devastating effect; Bomb Spells. Missile Spells with exceptionally long ranges. Cannon Spells with relatively short ranges. Grenade Spells with even shorter ranges. Chain-gun Spells for large, fast-moving, or grouped targets; they developed it all, in turn creating a wing of magical specialists centered around anti-air and air defense operations.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Meanwhile, another type of development was underway in Knighilia with the 3rd Legion.


    In spreading their machinations across the Republic, they managed to attract the attention of the native high elves and convinced many to join the Legions. Among them was E''mil L''neis and Anten''ll Nyrhlasru, my Technical Archmage and Doctoral Witch respectively; and they each brought different things. ArcaTech things.


    Anten''ll had in her possession, the POTTER Mk I. A vessel that looked both like a scaled-down version of Zakira''s Grav Bike and an upscaled broomstick. The bristles were of fire, and the stick on which the witch sat was as wide as a horse''s back, with a large pod beneath to fit patients in. Although it was never meant for us, we tested the POTTER thoroughly. We documented their top speeds, turning radius, stopping speeds, and altitude limits by pushing them to the limits of their engineering. We broke many. But each time we identified the cause and reported back to Edward, they were returned to us much more improved.


    Naturally, the same was true for the item E''mil had in his possession, which was meant for us.


    The RAPHEW greatly expanded the capabilities of the non-magical beings like me, my Executor, Aior, the other Sapiavi, and the many humans, halflings, gnomes, orcs, and others in my Legion. As such, our tactics changed once again. Everyone was issued a Raphew with, at the very least, a kinetic cartridge. Including me. In turn, we established the first marksmanship course and extended it to encompass cannons, bows, and crossbows on top of the spellcraft we developed.


    Throughout it all, I continued mastering the use of my newfound perks while my ever-increasing subordinates did their diligence in completing the tasks to obtain their master classes. They used CAMS, AVA, and Sky Skips alike to scan the lands below a sector at a time, identifying everything from resources and points of interest to prospective recruits and hidden locales. Throughout it all, our castle in the clouds had been drifting to Knighilia, where we hoped to recruit a few more wings into our Legion. But alas, things were more difficult than expected.


    The high elves who wanted to join were already here. And the wizards of Knighilia cared little for flying. Especially after Edward''s work made it all the more easier to traverse their country. Likewise, War Spells and the Raphew were for the Legions only. Thus some of us doubled back to hire mechanics and the like in Bakewia before we tried our luck in Shujen. There, we managed to find a fair number of recruits, although nothing along the likes of what I expected. Regardless, the winding rivers and sprawling forests of Knighilia and Shujen saw another development in the Legion.


    What was dubbed Low Operations came as a result of flying low and slow beneath the canopy, following winding rivers and deep dales, and finding obscure places in which to land and camp. While it allowed us to remain unseen by the greater lands, the same was not true for localized areas, thus we saw much conflict and thus grew proficient in conducting surveillance and attacking ground targets with passing sweeps. Naturally, that ceased as we departed from Shujen. We did not go to Knighilia, however. Edward was working in the region; and through him and the Legions'' prime bards, Willard and Ritrix, they managed to send over enough prospective diplomats and other such administrative types from the land of bards. They integrated seamlessly, electing to stay in the Cloud Castle as the Signal Wing, wherein they would use the many devices to assess and relay information, manage flight paths, and provide overwatch for the many groups, squadrons, flights, and sections during their daily patrols above Ligin.


    In those vast lands, Toril and his knights roamed. Their very presence saw great storms abound. Thus revealing the next step for my path and the coming training phase for my Legion. Everyone from those in the Anti-Air Wing to those in the Signal Wing redesigned their skills, tactics, and equipment for operations in tempestuous environments. Storm clouds, hurricanes, typhoons and tornadoes.


    That continued until the current moment, wherein Mani appeared to grow as it descended to the edge of the skies to peer down on Crater Lake.


    While the display was dazzling, the effect of our worlds pouring over the realm was most interesting. It saw everything from the lands to the creatures within change. Dormant volcanoes erupted. The mana density increased and Extreme Mana Zones popped up everywhere, giving rise to a wave of precious metals and magical materials that would surely create a rush among the locals. Moreover, it would surely cause dissent and protest among them. I could already see many people displaced by the disasters. Others were suffering from the abundant energy around them while yet more were tormented by the pets and domestic creatures they once lived beside.


    I could see much. Though I could not see all. Thus I wanted to imagine how King Corym was reacting to his sacred forest changing before his eyes. And yet, I could not, for the greatest change of all happened to us.


    Amun''s grace saw the mana wells of our subordinates increase in density to at least that of a diamond. Many of us were granted Arcana. But only we founders of the Legio Noctis were granted enough divine mana to awaken something. And from that divine mana came gifts and boons to our subordinates. Warlock or perhaps sorcerous abilities, I knew not. I knew only that everyone in my Legion obtained something that allowed them to mold and bend water, air, and lightning with ease. And yet, there were differences.


    Both afar and nearby, there were differences. Leagues away, other Imperators saw their subordinates be blessed by Moonlight or Twilight. Or even Mana. Legions like mine, however, saw dissimilar blue waves flow into our spirits and souls, affecting our minds and bodies differently. The Anti-Air Wing saw their cannons connect with their minds before folding in on themselves rapidly. Reducing their sizes to more manageable, avian designs that could follow their partners through the skies. Similarly, the Signal Wing saw their senses expand alongside their minds, allowing them to see as their sensors could see, hear as their receivers could hear, and speak as though through their transmitters. The Skimmer Wing saw their members connect with their sky ships in ways they never thought imaginable, allowing them to control their now-ArcaTech vessels as easily as they could their limbs.


    Those of Wing Ava saw the divine blue glow disintegrate their armor into a web of vibrant strings that flowed into their flesh, augmenting their bodies with the abilities of their armor while their AVA tossed aside its enchantments and recycled the hardware that once kept it running, reforging it into arcane-powered thrusters and shoulder-mounted Raphew. Those of Cams Wing saw their CAMS evolve into slim and sleek ArcaTech flight suits of sturdy silk, magic-infused fleece, and metallic feathers, granting them increased protection whilst supercharging their gear beyond normal capacities.


    Everyone saw their Raphew evolve, taking on the grays, whites, and dark blues of the 11th Legion while also becoming more streamlined. Those of my Squawk Command, however, saw all of the above and more. They saw both their CAMS and their equipment disintegrate and meld with their bodies wholly. The most notable of them all was Anten''ll and E''mil, whose POTTER and Raphew integrated with their bodies like the many machines contained in the body of Iris.


    And then there was me, who got all of the above and more.


    [Blessing of the ArcaTech Received: [Transformation] - Augmentation, Squawk Hive Cortex.]


    [The touch of divinity that has been seeded within you has attuned your mind, body, spirit, and soul with the machines and skyborne creatures of the Technica Domain, granting you the means to fabricate and control swarms of automated aircraft of varying sizes.]

 342 - Osseous Dire

    Leary, the Faithful.


    ***


    "You must hurry, Leary! We must beat the dawn!"


    "Tell that to Sausage or shut the hell up, Dinky!"


    The small and annoying creature burst from the folds of my clothes with a snarl. "After all the knowledge I have given you, you would give me such a ridiculous name?"


    "You''re a ridiculous beast!" I spat, spurring the massive creature beneath me to flap its wings harder. "So lazy, you are, Dinky! You do nothing but sleep and complain. I devote everything to God. You are a heretic!"


    "You just learned the meaning of the word." The imp dragon huffed.


    "Yet it describes you perfectly. Look!" I tossed my hands skyward. "You don''t even care to witness God''s glory! So Dinky you are named, you feathered bag of shite!"


    "Just ensure this brute makes it to our destination on time." Dinky dismissively sighed, then retreated into the folds of my clothes again.


    Fucking bastard. "How about we see how fast you fly?"


    That got him to poke his stupid little head out. If only to snarl. "You wouldn''t dare."


    I surprised myself with my speed. He was out of my hand the instant I decided to reach in and toss him aside. Given that it was done, though, I merely acknowledged it and paid no mind to the curses fading into the distance. After all, there was no way I could have paid the imp dragon any mind, for a miracle was at work.


    His glory was first displayed to the mortals of this realm through the fear of annihilation. By simply bringing his realm closer, the Eye of Silver brought mortals to their knees in hopes of their salvation. Their minds, so filled with thoughts of death, could only recount the things they never accomplished. But the glory of that empty world filled their hearts not with despair, but hope. Hope, born from a night sky so blue it could only be a sign of benevolence.


    It was then that my God blessed the ream with his holiness. An action that again enchanted the minds of mortals with hopeful uncertainty by way of a divine mist that befell the mountains and animals, blessed blue and silver to bear unseen stones and unnoticed young that would spread lush life into these dreary lands. But, my God was one of duality, so with the blessed holiness came the graced wickedness; an action that reminded mortals of the cruel realm in which we dwelled by virtue of a sky so dark, filled with unfathomable vistas of wonder made impossible to reach by way of their immeasurable distance and the foul creatures who dwelled in the spaces between.


    Still, my God was more. Tied to the very energies of this universe by the hand that created it. My God was the God of Mana. The Father of Evolution. And so, blessed and cursed and evolved, this land was. Saturated with arcana so the plants may thrive, the fungus may swarm, the animals may grow, and the sentients may adapt.


    Blessed by the Champion, the chosen were, to develop their Wells to match the potent energy of their surroundings.


    Enriched, the faithful masses were, to build their Wells into crystalline shells.


    Doomed, the faithless was, to suffer at the hands of mana saturation.


    But my God was one of duality. So with the potent arcana came the exotic machines; an action that I mentally demanded Dinky to observe like me and every other being on the Bodhi Peninsula; because no view could be better from here, at the Base of the Rharian Mountains.


    Even as we skimmed the ground, weaving through the trees at great speed, I could see a sphere of deep blue form between the ascending and descending beams of twilight and moonlight before it took hold of them with invisible tethers. In tandem, the silvery-blue falls drifted left and then up while the ascending golden jet drifted to the right and then down, creating a vortex that pulled pieces of the mountain swirling within a twin-colored vortex with a heart of blue.


    Before my very eyes, God pulled apart the uncountable tons of dirt, stone, and wood to extract their contents, refine the ores, and cut down their planks, forming them into three colossal prongs cradling a crystalline sphere of God''s pure essence; like an arrow aimed at the east-northeastern horizon.


    Contained in all but one place, it was, for the divine arrow soon pulsed as if touched by His hand, ejecting a beam of the four energies to be caught and accelerated down a pair of realm-spanning rails before shooting across the World Sea. The Bodhi Peninsulas were not untouched, however, for the arrow''s recoil released a pulsing shockwave that swept across the lands. But unfortunately, I could not see its effect. Nor was I touched by it.


    As if Sausage was vulnerable to the energy, he rose, rolled, and dipped into a pit of fluid darkness, speeding ever faster through to the very depths of the Mortal Plane until there was nowhere left to fall, and so he rose in pitch and raced across this cavern of dusk in which I found myself.


    How quickly I found myself amongst goblins, orcs, and humans alike, though I thought nothing of it. Not even when I heard their praises to me as I approached or when they fell to their knees after I passed, I hardly saw them because of how quickly I found myself standing before¡­ clan.


    A bestial dark elven female lounged on a bench a few ways away, eyeing me like a piece of meat she didn''t want to eat. Vampires sat to either side of me, praying and chanting in wordless tongues. And above, floating among the statue of my God, were several others. Most of whom were... like me.


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    And of course. My God.


    "Finally, you''re all here." The drow- the same drow with eldritch eyes I met just a few hours ago, leaned up to bring his face down to me and smiled, showing those familiar jagged teeth. "Leary." He gestured to those floating around him. "Welcome. Meet your fellow traveling companions. All of you."


    First I bowed to my God. Then I approached the first of them¡ªa human girl, hardly taller than me. A hooded tunic of blue- the same blue at the heart of that vortex, covered her body, and some white trousers tucked into black boots covered her lower half. Yet her eyes were of a slightly different blue, a bit like the sky. Her hair was slightly darker than her skin, which was like sandy clay. But¡­ she looked... weird; doll-like.


    "Iris Cole!" She smiled with a bow.


    I did not smile. But I did bow. "Hello, Iris. I am Leary, the Faithful."


    The next introduced many girls, mostly humans who stood behind her in fancy clothes. Blude was her name. A tall woman of dark brown skin, with hair like blazing fire and eyes like the greenest of fields. But oh, was she rude.


    "You''re taking a bath- getting scrubbed until you''re clean, pronto. You get me?"


    I held back a groan, moving on to the next. The other drow I met just hours ago. The one with the golden eyes and the unchanging gaze like stone. "Etan Za''Darmondiel." He nodded. But only his head.


    Then came the brutes. Freki, the giant man with tan skin, flowing black hair, sharp teeth, and eyes of fire on both his shoulder and his face; and Geri, the slightly smaller woman with pale skin, paler hair streaked with blue, and deathly cold eyes of blue and green. "Ravenous and Greedy beasts, you two are." I snickered. "It takes one to know one."


    Another human child was next. A young scowling boy with a skeletal arm of metal stared at me as I approached, even as he kept murmuring to his floating book. "-ions are¡­ eccentric," He droned. "This smelly goblin with spinal growths, for instance. He seeks to make discourse. I am¡­ reluctant to oblige, despite him being a member of our Troupe. So I will sign this script in hopes of him moving along. Signed, Wilson Koorb, the Eldritch Engineer."


    "Well fuck you too."


    The next one was cheerful. Too cheerful. I didn''t trust her, despite her being like me. She was a halfling girl who looked like she hadn''t eaten in a tenday. She was¡­ small. At least a head smaller than me, with black spheres around her eyes and gray streaks running down her eyes like tears. "Rickley Ravenbrook!" She held out her hand for me to shake. Something I''ve never seen a member of her kind do.


    "Leary, the Faithful." I took the hand, gently shaking it with my best impression of a gentleman.


    "We''ll¡­ work on that," Blude murmured.


    I ignored her in favor of moving on to the elf. Or half-elf. They all looked the same. But her, she looked the worst of all. Almost like a hag with rotten, almost grainy skin along her shoulder, cheek, and brow; the last of which had a gaping hole that gave me glimpses of a pulsating brain. "Reina." She droned in the most creepy way imaginable.


    Her breath was like a peat bog farting in the wind, punching me hard enough to face Blude with a silently gesture to the elven corpse.


    "Oh, don''t you worry about her." She snickered. "She''s getting scrubbed too."


    "And I can''t wait!" Reina giggled.


    "Neither can I." God laughed through his nose, pulling our eyes to his greatness. "You all are my traveling companions now and forever more, the Elven Devil''s Troupe¡ªthe first Demigods of my pantheon, on the path to Godhood. Gods and Goddesses, you will become once you complete your training.


    "You." He pointed to us four tainted ones. "You are the Unholy Greater Deities of my pantheon, cursed by the Owl to make pacts with the Elven Devil, turning you into Undying Fiends and evolving you into something more. Your abilities have been corrupted; your minds and bodies enhanced; your spirits, tainted and souls, claimed; changing you into a Druid of Pestilence, a Bard of Famine, an Engineer of Death, and a Fighter who Fiends for War- my Horsemen. Once I reach the end of Zefroth''s path, you will become my first Archdevils.


    "You." He turned to the five bright ones. "You are the Holy Greater Deities of my pantheon, blessed by the ArcaTech, the World Weaver, and the Eternal Champion to become a Goddess of Technology, a Divine Matriarch of the Abyssal Sea, Nomadic Celestials of the Seasons, and the first Nova Drow. When I reach the end of my Eternal Path, you will become my first Angels. Kind of.


    "Of you all, I require five things." God declared, raising his fist; and I pushed all of my senses to listen and take note. "First." He unfurled his thumb. "Your skills in combat and your prowess in war must be unmatched. You must be legendary within my legions of legends. I require this of you because, as members of my Troupe, you are members of my shadow legion- Zed Legion; the most elite members, among the highest ranking. As such, you must be capable of dominating a war without outside assistance."


    Many of them chuckled strangely or otherwise took on strange expressions. Geri and Freki looked inquisitive. Blude and her girls seemed to understand something. Iris seemed passive. But Etan was the one who spoke. "Just as you have done in Shujen." He stated.


    "Indeed," God answered with a smile. "Just as they saw me as a monster who needed to be destroyed, people will see you as monsters or enemies to their deities. However, to the Legions, you are the pinnacle of greatness. Thus, second." He raised his pointer finger. "I require each of you to become both a Witch and an Artificer, as the knowledge I will impart to you will often go hand in hand with the two fields. You will learn all there is to know before you train to evolve. And I will be there to teach you every step of the way."


    I felt encouraged and enriched by those words. How eager I became to learn all there was to know. Everything was something to obsess over, after all. But the continued word of God was even more tantalizing.


    "Third." He unveiled his middle finger. "You must create and manage some type of industrial business. I care not if it is to help or hinder people. I care not if you operate inside or outside the laws of any lands we travel. I care only that you use the perks of your witchcraft and artificing license to make something magnificent and spread it across the realms, bringing change everywhere you go. Or at the very least, to the Empire and Legions.


    "Fourth." He snapped his ring finger up. "You must create an elite black ops unit within the Legio Noctis. Again, I care not if you make an organization of elite spies or infantry. I care only that it be organized and managed efficiently, for only the best Legionaries will be chosen to join your organizations. This will all be accomplished by the completion of the fifth task, wherein you will learn about yourselves and your various roles in both peacetime and war while we train in the Dark Room as the Legio Noctis'' first unofficial class of graduates. Class Negative One.


    "This is all I require of you, for the Mortal Plane is my playground. And, though you may be my companions, I will not wait for you to catch up once I finally begin to play. So, let us go home, my Elven Devil''s Troupe.


    "And¡­ let it be known." He added, retracting his fist to point at some unseen point far above. "I did not consciously do any of that. It just¡­ happened; a... result of my ascension- my step down the Eternal Path."

 343 - Lordlings

    Imperator Elijah of the Blackblood.


    11th Legion, the Lordlings.


    24th of Trescia, 1492.


    ***


    "Congratulations, Elijah of the Blackblood. Imperator of the 11th Legion."


    "Thank you, Amun." I reverently bowed and thought of bowing again as the boons, benefits, and bounties befitting my positions drifted at the edge of my perception. More gold. More equipment. Blessings in the form of knowledge, wisdom, and power; as well as a larger world in Eotrom.


    In the end, no bow was given to show gratitude for those things, for that would have been unappreciated. Our pact dictated such things, so a flourishing bow served as my dismissal. Officers were not to be saluted in the field, after all. And the 11th Legion operated on the principle of discretion more than any other.


    We got on course for Ligin without delay, moving efficiently and with the utmost silence while our channels rang constantly with chatter. With Kele and her subordinates silently stampeding across the ground, Art and his subordinates leaping and drifting from shadow to shadow, and my corps of newly enlisted cultists drawn to us from both the Rharian and Ligin mountains flying in the skies above, the hidden lair I ventured to months ago came into view within half an hour. Shortly after, the phantasmal visages of Art, Kele, and the other top-ranking individuals of my growing legion appeared in my periphery as a private channel opened between us.


    Art, my Executor, spoke first. "Congratulations, Father," was all he said.


    "Thank you. And congratulations to you all as well." I tersely replied. Though I assumed the practice would be looked at strangely or even frowned upon in the other legions, I found it quite endearing that my spawn referred to me as their Father.


    It started just after I turned them, which, in turn, happened just before our venture to the Shadow Realm to undergo the Trial of Five Deaths. Since then, the grace of Twilight saw their blood bonds to me be broken. They were free in the same sense that I was free from Madam Opal. Yet they did not adopt her blood magic like I did. Moreover, they wished to retain our relationship as parent and child. In turn, their subordinates viewed them as their parents once they were guided through the Trial of Five Deaths. They then stalked the lands of Ligin and Rhar, searching for cultists to bring into our midst; of which there was no shortage.


    All the while, the undead chimera in Ligin had formed its lair and my resident undead had not only constructed a quaint but respectable hold nearby but had connected the nearby road to our tunnel; ensuring it maintained a respectable distance from the lair and Keep. Through this, a respectable territory had been formed between the Kingdoms of Rhar and Ligin, stretching between the mountains from the Exalted Gloom''s first lair to the base of the Ligin Mountains; all governed from the shadows by my ever-increasing subordinates.


    Naturally, most of them diverged to spread across our territories as we funneled into the tunnel, darting through the darkness while our Liege and his Troupe ascended the mountain to bless our sister religion. Then, he would be here, the place in which we first stopped upon our descent to the Southern Peninsula; the Willowden.


    What before was a grove hidden within an apparent cave was now a veritable castle in disguise. Braziers burning with the white, nearly transparent flames of Shadowfire straddled the entrance, wherein they radiated umbral energy like heat and billowed a lingering smoke that didn''t necessarily block light, it filtered color born from light but not energy, creating a monochromatic scape colored only by blood, magic, ki, fire, lightning, and mana.


    That alone led many travelers into the seemingly barren caves we carved into the mountain, wherein they would feel the umbral essence of the beasts within before they were devoured. Or, if they were suitable to be recruited, beckoned deeper into a labyrinth of stone tiles and hewn walls that led to the domain of our patron; our Goddess. Cononthoth, the Exalted Gloom.


    As always, we stopped in the foyer of her great chamber with gold, black gems, aged meat, and reverence at the ready. As always, they were received and disappeared to the two hoard chambers by tendrils of darkness while the shadows rippled with the smooth and deep tone of our Draconic Goddess.


    "You have done well to prepare for my ascension, my Knights. Amun has rewarded you so. Your boons from me will come in time. First, however, you must know your service has just begun."


    Those words birthed tendrils of darkness to seep into my mind, giving me visions of my sons and daughters in the future, when they would regress in age whenever they moved to lands afar. Only to live and grow into the Lords and Ladies of whatever regions they traveled to. Lordlings. Lordlings of War, Industry, Commerce, and Law. Lordlings who would birth lairs for the Exalted Gloom, and bring the lands they dwelled within to darkness. In turn, the shining dusk that came with her darkness gave us glimpses of a glutton. A drunk of a man in Bakewia, wishing to be a powerful lord; and so a powerful Lording he would become. We saw glimpses of the Owl''s wing pointing him to Dryndrabethei, the first city Amun sundered during his walk through Shujen- our next destination.


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    When it ceased, it did so without warning or mercy. Our minds were ripped from their trances like roots were from the ground, leaving us with the sonorous words of our Goddess as the darkness shifted around us.


    So it was, we appeared at the entrance to our first lair, wherein we once again saw Etan, Iris, Blude, Geri, and Freki. I welcomed them to our Willowden, and then Cononthoth introduced herself via some¡­ playful banter with Amun. After, she made a curious comment about Etan''s heritage, then adopted a form that mirrored his likeness- a drow. An Amazonian-sized drow, it seemed to me, given her size, strength, and domineering presence.


    Into the land down under, we followed our Goddess just as the Troupe followed Amun. During the journey, I couldn''t help but tease Etan''s knowledge of the Darkworld''s depths and found an interesting answer. Thus I studied his visage as we fell deeper and deeper.


    He was¡­ interesting. More interesting than the rest, I dared say. His uncanny resemblance to Amun aside, he was said to be highly skilled and knowledgeable, yet seemed unsure of himself. Or rather, he was almost¡­ ignorant of himself. I''d seen it in my recruits before. Those who lived with a heel over their necks, demanding they walk, speak, and otherwise behave a specific way or face punishment. Those who had their true personas contained under lock and key. Those who were molded into something they were not. Those were the ones who struggled the most with freedom.


    It made me curious as to what he would become in the decades and centuries to come. More so than us. But not as much as our prime deities. So when we descended to the Deep Dark, we melded into the crowd and watched the Troupe approach Madames Opal and Syele.


    There was no disgust on even the children''s faces as they watched a new clan of religious vampires be birthed into creation. Only a morbid curiosity from those like Etan and Blude while Iris was more focused on the buildings and machines. Geri and Freki on the other hand seemed¡­ famished. They licked their lips and even procured frozen or smoked husks of meat to chow down on until our turn came.


    Given the fact that we were already vampiric shades, it took much less time than the others. We merely declared ourselves a denomination of the Black Plume and our devotion to the Exalted Gloom and the Owl- a seemingly small act that wound up having reality-altering ramifications.


    While the other Legions saw the change brought to the surface, and the Black Plume was most privy to the change born in Amun and his Troupe, we of the 11th Legion witnessed the change born in Cononthoth. Tied to Amun''s soul, hers was. Thus when they made their deal, hers became a divine soul like his. And now that he had ascended, taking his Troupe to Eotrom, she was to do the same, ascending to the divine realm as a divine dragon.


    The first sign was her withdrawing the headdress she''d been using to maintain her drow-like form thus far. As it was tossed aside, the hand that released it darkened in pitch at once, enlarging and hardening into blacker-than-black claws that placed a thick arm of midnight scales on the ground with the utmost grace. The second claw came, followed by legs that erected her spined back to a height of 4 meters. As her finned tail swayed, dark, nearly translucent wings stretched around me and my children, pitting us in a conflagration of Shadowfire born from her first breath of new life.


    Within that cold inferno, darkness and light merged and proceeded to corrupt. The Shadowfire became something like a miasma, a dark and magmatic slurry of death that gave rise to life; tainted, draconic life.


    In both our Goddess and the treasures we showered her with, that divine essence flowed, reforming the catalytic matter and divine energy to the base of her neck, where it spiraled into a crown of branching horns; Horns of Radiant Dusk and Shadowed Dawn. Into us, that draconic miasma and that gilded light flowed, reinforcing the bone on our brows with the beginnings of horns and reforming the flesh on our backs with black, nearly translucent wings of radiant darkness.


    When it ceased, it did so without warning or mercy. Our bodies were released from the embrace of our Goddess like blood fruits detaching from their vines, leaving us with an overwhelmingly satisfied sensation and a glimpse of our Goddess emerging from her hibernation as a colossal creature of divine gloom who matched our Liege''s mental age.


    So it was, the Exalted Gloom ascended. In turn, we did as the Plume and the 8th Legion did and delved into the next phase of our operation by mounting up to depart to Shujen. In doing so, we bore witness to what they did not- the aftermath of Amun''s evolution. The realm-shattering change he had no conscious hand in invoking.


    The beam of divine energy fired across the World Sea released a shockwave that served as the final kick to fill the realm with arcana. Not only that, but I could sense traces of the ArcaTech''s essence everywhere. In every road. In every mine. Every factory. Every wagon. They all became more efficient. Magical in some cases, just like countless beasts, or even powered by the ambient arcana in others. Cities had devolved into chaos, with countless dead and on the rise. Yet above, there were even more changes. The worlds we wove were larger, radiant, and more distant as they danced around Mani, pouring their light on each other and the Mortal Plane whilst occasionally casting shadows on the first world, which now appeared like a true second sun- a silver eye with an illusory lid that opened and closed with the passing months.


    And yet, even that was tame in comparison to the impact of Twilight. Above, Twilight brought the sky to life with countless motes of hardly perceivable lights, bringing the eyes of mortals above while the bodies of the dead rose from below. Yet those very stars brought to mind a visage that was to blame for all this death and destruction- a being marked by the tree of eternal darkness. The same one inked into the Lordling''s skin, rather than worn on our clothes. Below, on the other hand, a wave of death swept across the Peninsula. And though it did not kill, maim, or harm, it marked, it sowed; it claimed the residents of the Bodhi Peninsula for a post-life eternity above or below. It ingrained the ground with the dormant fingers of Death that would wait until it soaked up enough life to wake and rise.


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 344 - The Plagues

    Imperator Opal, the Twilight Empress.


    8th Legion, the Plagues.


    ***


    It was with unbounded reverence that we witnessed the Elven Devil''s Troupe congregate- that we witnessed them wholly before their evolution. Not even the Order of Worlds received such a privilege. Not to say they were lesser. Only that the likes of Wilson Koorb, Rickley Ravenbrook, Reina Featherfall, and Leary, the Faithful were beyond their purview. They were holy, representing Amun''s goodness. We were not. Thus our mirrors were to be the opposite.


    The Order of Worlds sought to uplift others in the name of the World Weaver whereas the Bloodmoon Legion were the destroyers of the Culture Amun so despised. In the other jugular, the Black Plume sought to corrupt the wicked in the name of the Elven Devil whereas my Legion, the Plagues of Eotrom, sought to bring order and liberty to the places most chaotic and corrupt. So too, however, did we serve in other ways. We dwelled in the deepest depths of the Darkworld, where the immense pressure of the Mortal Plane above forced stone and iron; copper, and other such metals out of the mithral and adamantine walls to resemble an aberrant moss.


    Those lesser metals- metals mortals waged wars over, were as common as dirt and stone were on the surface. The rest was placed into a so-called degenerate state, with the molecules squeezed together as if they were shoulder to shoulder. Under normal circumstances, that made it impossible to mine. But we were the Nox''s Legions.


    So it was that most if not all the iron, copper, electrum, gold, silver, mithral, and adamantine the Legions acquired after the Shadeforge raid came from the 8th Legion as we burrowed and expanded through the Darkworld; opening pits to the surface to guide those attuned to death and darkness to greatness.


    As the acolytes above did, they were made to leap into our domain below, wherein they found themselves in a horizontal tunnel that led to the Mortal Plane''s bowels. Thus they descended through the Underground on isolated paths of trail and conflict- of adversity; guided by the same gilded darkness we used to observe and assess them. Through this, they learned the importance of skill; as that was the sole thing responsible for their survival. Not even our Eternal God-Emperor was to be relied on, should they wish to live; for death was but a door for us, the skills would be learned either way. And so, alive and dead, dead and alive, they learned many skills on their journey below ground. Navigating. Tracking. Hunting. Foraging. Pottery. Sewing. First aid. Construction. Things they would need not just to survive, but thrive in the ever-present darkness, persisting between the light.


    When faced with powerlessness, they pressed on and thus were granted strength and life; power- the thing that corrupted all but Amun, it seemed. Thus we used the grace of Twilight to show those young souls the benevolence and malevolence they were capable of. We showed them the good and evil found in everyone by showing them the good and evil acts done by our God. Thus they devoted themselves to committing acts of good and evil with the entirety of their being; to experience every extreme. And in doing so, begin down a path to find their true selves, and master them.


    That, however, was a long road to travel. Thus they continued descending, learning, mastering their skills while their minds melded more with the ever-increasing darkness; changing their bodies so subtly, so slowly. Time became meaningless as the sleepless days turned into sleepless tendays. Thus more ground was covered, and even more when the bioluminescent bugs and mushrooms were foraged instead of those without their poisonous glow.


    When they finally emerged in the Darkworld, they stepped into Twilight at last. They donned the Owl''s robes, tinted with the golds, purples, and crimsons of our Legion, and took flight in the Dark Sky. Yet still, they descended.


    Armed to the teeth with crossbows, spears, and talons, they swept through the land down under, fighting ceaselessly against the undead to learn the ways of war dictated by our God; and then me. Their trials soon saw them develop two of the three traits and behaviors of the 8th Legion. Their immense time in the dark saw them become craftily cunning isolationists like the deep gnomes. Their eternal war with the foul natives of the realm saw them become militant pragmatists with a slightly sadistic side like the drow were said to be. However, it wasn''t until they descended further that they developed the nobly predatory nature of my Legionaries.


    At last, our recruits saw the tail end of their descent as they perched in our cities within the True Darkworld. There, they were educated and learned in the ways of our culture, and through this, the seeds of intelligence were sown in the furrows of their ignorance. They had spent all this time learning of themselves, thus they grew to learn of each other, the Plume, the Legions, and its Imperators. Moreover, they learned of reality. The elements of the universe, the phases they could change into, and the compounds they became when they merged. The fundamental forces of nature. The laws of sentient minds. The Rules of Life and Death. The methods of the machine. The nature of mana.


    Only then, when they came to know these things, were they given the mark of our Legion. A star, eclipsed by the face of the Owl. Only then- now, did they descend into the Underdark where we awaited. Only then did they organize themselves into corps, divisions, brigades, and so on. Only then did the most distinguished step forward to stand before me with a reverent salute.


    So it was, the members of my staff were turned before any in the Plume. Turned and subsequently freed of our blood bond by virtue of the twilight seeded within them, then they were named and sent throughout the Darkworld to master their roles further.


    My Technical Archmage, a half-elf named Kurdir Jassahn, went to the Dark Sky and then the Dark Clouds with my Doctoral Witch, a female goblin named Poiga. While one infused the essence of Twilight into our territories, the other went to study the many lifeforms native to the realm; and in turn developed several salves, ointments, pills, and potions tailored to befit our vampiric, undying, and shaded members. So too did they go with the leaders of the Plague Corps, a dwarf and a human named Ness Gloomthorne and Herais Um respectively. They took everything Poiga learned or created and corrupted it, turning it into blood, acid, or poison-based weapons of mass destruction that they spent all their time perfecting the use of.


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    Beyond our borders in the True Darkworld went Marshal Juliana Ataut and General Gulla Thorn; a Kasian human and a Ligin-born half-orc. With them went Valadan Longtooth and Seli A''oth. An unlikely pair, given the former was dwarven and the latter was elven. Regardless, they led the Unholy Army Corps with great success. So much so that when coupled with their sister corps, they were nigh unstoppable.


    Led by the female human, Eunike Uxon, and the male half-orc, Morfga, the Mounted Corps centered their entire being around the divine Dusk, Night, and Dawn Aves and the draconic beasts of darkness the 11th Legion bestowed on us. It was they who pushed our borders further into the frontier. So too was it they who returned with cattle and beasts of burden and war. Spiders and serpents; rothay and crab-like things galore.


    Many of those things went to the Underdark, where my Engineer ventured. Edlen Chiselfinger was a dark gnome of grizzly stature who isolated herself and his undead in mining alcoves and chambers to house our troops and made more for the farms, ranches, and industrial yards needed to make our Legion self-sufficient. Then she went above to the True Darkworld, wherein she worked with my Civil Chief and her fellow dark gnome, Boddy Boulderweight.


    With his help, our comparatively small settlements grew into grandiose cities that granted each citizen a wealth of private space. Moreover, they built a veritable training ground within the city. In which our corps of spies and subterfuge specialists honed their skills, led by a female Strifling, Exbus; and a male halfling, Milyn Goodhearth.


    Throughout it all, my Executor had remained by my side, running the Legion while I oversaw things in the Plume until the time of great change came upon us. Never had I seen the half-wood elf so proud as that day. Not when she first descended into the dark, nor when she was turned. She had been mellow since her first descent; when her dreary visage faded from reality. Now, however, Executor Silvia Nuyi''s crimson eyes were overflowing with tears born by our God''s presence.


    He descended with the Exalted Gloom, half of his Troupe, and Elijah- who eased himself into the sidelines the moment they arrived in the Deep Dark. Cononthoth, on the other hand, stepped forth to lay atop her dais and watch us sing our praise to the Elven Devil while gazing upon the might of his troupe.


    The cease of their steps saw silence invade the cavern, interrupted only by Pora Bora''s screech and the subsequent words spoken by me. Turned, changed, and corrupted were the feathers of the Black Plume, bringing about an end to this step in our God''s path and thus his evolution. Him, the God of such things.


    So it was that the realm evolved alongside him.


    So it was that we evolved alongside him. Thus we were not privy to the impact it had on the surface. We were only privy to the rise in mana above and how it seemed to pour off the blue-green rune-like script that transcribed itself atop Amun''s head. Once formed, those runes erupted in a wave of arcane fire that saw the sclera of Amun''s eyes deepen to black and blue while his draconic pupils became limned in gold or filled with silver. Blue rings etched themselves into his temples and seemed to pump something into his skin, given by the thick linear veins reaching to the back of his head, appearing moments later as radiant lines reaching from his shoulder to his fingertips before they pulsed, releasing a wave of deep blue energy into me and Elijah alike.


    Although the blessing was given to me in person, I could not read the arcane words hovering before my eyes, for my eyes remained shut as my voice chanted with all of my might. And yet still, I felt the blessings bestowed onto me. I felt the blood flowing through my domain seep into my machines, factories, and vehicles; changing them into a new branch of technology; changing them into HemoTech just as I would change my Legionaries into proper plagues.


    It wasn''t long after when another zealous noise made us go silent. A scream born from a child''s lungs- the first of our God''s wicked companions. Wilson Koorb. A human child with red and white hair, accompanied by an umbral knight of adamantine and gold. In his skeletal hand of metal, he carried a book of leather and blood that documented his mutterings after the ambient Twilight seeped into him, gifting his eyes with hues of purple gold.


    The second was a young halfling with silken hair and a ghastly visage. Rickley Ravenbrook. Accompanying her was a giant frog- an Uma that produced a hauntingly pleasant drum that the Plume picked up on and used as ambiance while the bard introduced herself. The richness of her skin returned in full force as she stood next to Amun, allowing the rising Twilight and more to flow into her and form a radiant ring around her cursed mana well.


    The third was a deathly half-elf with a body of petrified wood accompanied by an owl of similar makeup but with undying shadows with perpetual scowls. Reina Featherfall. The first Twilight Druid. And more. Even by our standards, she appeared ghastly. Yet her disposition was the opposite. Aloof and cheerful, she was. Even as the rush of Twilight pouring off of Amun saw her wounds close and made her¡­ floral parts more inconspicuous.


    The last to appear from the rushing river of twilight was the most curious. Leary, the Faithful. A goblin with curious companions. An undead dire-cheetah with winged armor of bone and a draconic imp of darkness. Even they were tame in comparison to Leary, however. He was taller and more lithe than any goblin I had seen, standing taller than Rickley- as tall as a hobgoblin but with a humanoid posture; and all along his back were curious spines that radiated with familiar magic.


    Wholly formed, Amun dictated his standards to his Troupe and ascended to Eotrom with but a single message passed onto us, the Black Plume, the Lordlings, and the Plagues; and by extension, the Legions and thus the Empire of Eotrom.


    "And¡­ let it be known. I did not consciously do any of that. It just¡­ happened; a... result of my ascension- my step down the Eternal Path."


    Change.


    That moment- those words saw everything change. Those of the Plume dove into a frenzy of documentation, recording songs, scriptures, and sculptures of the events that just transpired. Those of the 11th Legion took to the lair of their Goddess while mine came to me and soon dispersed throughout the Bodhi Tree''s Darkworld and Underground to search- hunt for the changes birthed by our God; and more, spread the glory of Twilight beneath every country in the Peninsula.


    Everyone from the lowest acolyte to Syele herself saw change. Change imposed by themselves.


    Everyone from the newly enlisted Legionaries to me saw change. Change imposed by our God.


    To that end, I faced Syele for the last time in what would come to be several months- only for her to bestow me with the newest leader of the Black Plume.


    "Tava," I said to the young Vampyr. "You will be accompanying me to the Deep Dark of Shujen, wherein a new sanctuary will soon bloom beneath a place called Zimysta Falls. In which, your nest will form."


    "In turn, I will go to the surface," Syele said, gazing far above. "It is time I catch up with Geingurr Redstone."

 345 - Demi-Eternal

    Amun.


    25th of Trescia, 1492.


    Eotrom, Mani. The Eternal Void (Amun¡¯s Domain)


    Mortal Time: 7:31.


    [The Eternal Path: Step 3 - The Mission: Complete.]


    [Step 3 Reward: Transformation - [Demi-Eternal Physiology] - Due to your growing divinity, your being has matured enough to awaken as an Eternal Demigod. While still not a full-fledged Eternal God, your station remains higher than the Ascended Deities. However, your power is not yet equal to theirs. Like any Deity, your Divine Mana now radiates from your spirit, acting to affect the world around you in ways that would displease Deities and Mortals alike. However, due to your aspects of Freedom and Exploration, the Planes of Reality remain open for you to explore. Conversely, your aspect of Change has caused such reactions to your presence to be magnified.]


    [Lvl 3 Reward: Transformation - [Diadem of Empyrean Facultas.] - With this Diadem of divine energy and eternal flame, any event related to your portfolio, involving enough members of your faith is opened to your senses. Simultaneously, your awareness is expanded to Omniscience of all that transpires within ten kilometers yourself, anyone who utters your name, presents your holy symbols, or any place your devoted faithful roam.]


    [Lvl 3 Reward: Evolution - [Divine Sea] - Your growth as an Eternal has enlarged your Divine Pool to that of a Divine Sea. With its growth comes a tap connecting to the Eternal Creator, filling your Sea with the energies of Mana and Arcana. Through this, you can funnel Arcane energy, sourced directly from the Creator, into your Clerics, Paladins, Warlocks, and Clergy; and Mana, sourced directly from the Creator, into your devoted faithful. Effectively increasing the densities of their Mana Wells up to the Diamond Tier.]


    [The Eternal Path: Step 4 - The Spread.]


    [With the ranks of your twin clergies filled, you must continue your path towards perpetuity by putting your clergy on a path to test the teachings of your faith by spreading your glory. The Order of Worlds, your religion most aligned with your chaotic goodness, must mimic your actions of liberating and uplifting the oppressed of the surface worlds. Meanwhile, The Black Plume, your cult most aligned with evil lawfulness, must recreate your tyranny and appease the dark one aligned with you by spreading Twilight and Gloom throughout the Darkworld. Both must build new temples or sanctuaries in the wake of their travels. Thus they must be graced with sacred relics and blessings as rewards for their trials]


    ***


    ¡°Welcome home. Welcome to my divine realm of Eotrom.¡±


    As one, they all gazed upon the strange environment of darkness and glimmering light, awe and wonder on all faces, save Blude¡¯s mafia and the twin werewolves. Even then, though, only Etan and perhaps Wilson could truly understand the realm¡¯s nature.


    It had grown in my absence, or rather, with my evolution. What was once a binary star system comprised of a blue-white star and a barren world with many planets was now a star cluster, with that barren world at its center. Only now, the Inner Mani was like a white dwarf in appearance- a point of brilliant blue-white light but a solid world still.


    Only a few planets bathed in its pale light. The worlds of Doyle and Olga were perhaps the closest. ''Perhaps,'' due to their highly eccentric orbits bringing them as far out as the gas giant of floating islands: Bithisarea, the world of the citizenry. In reality, those zealous moons belonging to Opal and Zakira were the closest, appearing as polar opposites of each other; a Venusian world of dark clouds and a blue moon with oceans of blood. Ilium, on the other hand, was the closest star to Mani, followed by the star systems of Imperators Toril, Jaimess, Ed, Roheisa, Lucia, Peter, Hogaz, Duke, and Elijah. Thus it was they who¡¯d be given a special task once the Troupe had been addressed.


    As for the many other, largely uninhabited stars, many were promptly aged to trigger supernovas to forge an abundance of elements for the Troupe¡¯s worlds, prompting a mix of reactions.


    ¡°Some of you will be here longer than others,¡± I said, giving a pointed look to Etan. ¡°Some.¡± I turned to Reina. ¡°Significantly less. You all, however, will spend ample time with me and each other throughout your years here. Because here, I am omnificent, omnipotent, and all the other omni¡¯s there are.


    "Now, first thing¡¯s first.¡± I paused, snapping divine wise rocks before the Troupe and their many subordinates. ¡°Your homes. They will be worlds, woven within this system. In turn, your subordinates are to weave moons around your worlds, for they will become your domains. The materials and creatures within will take on your essence and adapt to thrive in those conditions. Moreover, whether they be your enemies, casualties of war, victims of collateral damage, or anyone you kill, they can be reincarnated in your worlds with no memories of their past. On the contrary, whether they be your allies, subordinates, or strangers you¡¯ve befriended and blessed, they¡¯ll be resurrected in your worlds.


    ¡°You''ll learn more about the specifics in time. For now.¡± I clapped, releasing some divine mana to birth a clone for everyone minus Iris and Etan. ¡°Go and raise your worlds. Rest. Relax. Learn. We¡¯ll begin training in a few days.¡±


    With waves and nods, they were led off to the various nebulae concentrated in different corners of the system, clutching their rocks to pour their energies within as they drank from the Divine Sea. Into the vast emptiness they were thrown, those stones, arcing through space like forgotten comets to bloom and bloat into worlds that put the likes of Jupiter, and dare I say Saturn to shame. Water worlds. Brown giants. Volcanic worlds of subterranean cities. Pestilent worlds with hollow cores made organic. Fascinating worlds, the lot of them. But alas, they were worlds that had to be explored vicariously through my Metaphysical Forms, for there was much for me to do.


    So it was, that I teleported us to the 9th level of my layered world- an expanse of emptiness, filled with floating islands, big and small. It was on one such island that Zakira stood before a modest home overlooking some rolling plains, waiting for Iris to jump into her arms the moment her scanners spotted her. I left Kira undisturbed, allowing her to coo over Iris and her endless questions while I entered a spacious but hardly decorated living room, only boasting a sunken U-shaped couch sitting before a coffee table overlooked by a Digishroom that was promptly activated once we all got seated.


    As the mushroom shook, a ring of spore clusters detached and rained across the table, leaving a curtain of glowing haze to take on the form of Eotrom¡¯s leaders. The resolution was a bit like a hologram, albeit with full opacity, no flickering effects or static, and such a high definition that only their unnatural glow coupled with the magic radiating from the shroom revealed them for what they were.


    Still, Iris thought they were adorable, making for a more than awkward situation as the council, Toril, Jaimess, Ed, Roheisa, Lucia, Letta, and Giorno came to terms with my new appearance. Of course, the awkwardness only increased tenfold once I introduced Iris, Kira, and Etan to everyone.


    ¡°So, uh,¡± I muttered once everyone reclaimed their wits. ¡°I¡¯ve reached the next step of my Eternal Path. Divine mana now radiates from my body, changing reality without my input. In this case.¡± I paused, showing a dozen different perspectives of the morning event those gathered. ¡°A beam containing energy from each of my domains is on a direct course for Maru. I know not what it will do.¡±


    ¡°If here is any indication, arcana will fill the realm and a lot of animals are going to evolve.¡± Jaimess chuckled; not from his words, but due to the small tengu ramming his chest repeatedly.


    ¡°I can safely say our mana problem is over and done with. Nearly everyone here has arcana now, thanks to you.¡± Rodin grunted. ¡°The ones that don¡¯t are up to a density of diamond.¡±


    ¡°That was a conscious effort by both yourselves and me.¡± I nodded. ¡°Your faith was what allowed me to give you all more mana. Regarding this beam, though. If it¡¯s anything regarding my ambitions, I imagine it¡¯s got something to do with Maru, our Tree of Life.¡±


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Your ambitions?¡± Etan asked.


    ¡°Yeah, one of them.¡± I nodded. ¡°The Marulean Tree of Life is long dead.¡±¡¯


    ¡°Of that, I know. And so too do I know it is not my place to tell you who destroyed it. Although, I am sure you can imagine who.¡±


    ¡°I can.¡± I nodded, begrudgingly so. Fuckin¡¯ know-it-alls. ¡°What I don¡¯t know, however, is why Zefroth destroyed it. Neither is that what I¡¯m curious about, however. I¡¯m most curious about the state of Maru, what led to its death, and the consequences of its demise. Aside from that, I intend to resurrect it. That was the main reason for my deal with the Bodhi Tree¡¯s Headmaster. I needed a second divine tree seed.¡±


    ¡°And that is why you wish for us to excavate.¡± Silas surmised with a mad cackle. ¡°Well, with the creatures you sent over, that¡¯s easier done than said. The giant badgers, ants, and termites have nearly finished the job. Now, they¡¯ve taken to building lairs with the extra wise rocks while the undead workers tend to the infrastructure.¡±


    ¡°I see. Although my divinity has already evolved them, that doesn''t mean they won''t change with the other creatures, as Jaimess said. In fact, it may mean the opposite. What they have now may attract what''s coming. They could become hyper-intelligent, divine, or anything else. Or, nothing. A world could be woven over Maru and nothing else. Or both, perhaps neither. I¡¯m truly unsure.¡± I nodded thoughtfully, then turned to him and Rodin both. ¡°Do you need more undead? We have new types. Monastic fighters and a few of the magical variety.¡±


    ¡°Yes to both.¡± Rodin quickly answered. ¡°The troops have taken to guarding the creatures since there¡¯s little else to do. It¡¯s served to boost morale greatly. Something they¡¯ll need here in a few months.¡±


    ¡°That they will.¡± Toril offered.


    Etan snickered at that, prompting many of the council to shift uncomfortably in their seats, much to his chagrin.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be sending over some Umas, vehicles, and infrastructure in the next shipment,¡± Ed mentioned, flicking a packet of manuals and blueprints to Silas and the engineers of the Council. ¡°I¡¯ve made plans for proper roads and waterways to connect with the settlements we¡¯ve made contact with. That, as well as some network towers and a sky port inside the mountain to reconnect us with Odissi and Deapou.¡±


    ¡°Related to that.¡± Roheisa leaned forward. ¡°I¡¯d like to propose our borders be open to trade and immigration between those two lands and ours. Specifically by constructing embassies for both parties. Not to mention, I¡¯d like to recruit Deapouan and Odissian natives into my Legion.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± Silas nodded with an excited glint in his eye. ¡°I suppose the time to meet the aristocracy of the Twin Empires would come sooner or later. Anything else?¡± He then asked, looking around the council before eventually turning toward the sound of Toril¡¯s baritone voice.


    ¡°Only regarding the Legions and those attending training.¡± He paused to allow Rodin to peruse the data packet he just received. ¡°This is our standard for the Initiated- those who have sworn in but have not passed through the Legions¡¯ evolution ritual. You will receive the infrastructure detailed within this packet once Amun and the Troupe complete their manufacture.¡±


    ¡°Naturally, anyone attending training at the mid-year will need to be initiated as well. Moreover.¡± I paused to start a recording to send to the other soon-to-be commanders. ¡°Because the Legionaries make a pact to join, they can expect to obtain a warlock class post-evolution. Noctis Legionary. To that end, I still have to finalize the class. At the very least, however, it will be something akin to the blessings you''ve recently received. Our subguilds will be our subclasses, with your Legionaries adopting facsimiles of your power.


    "Expect a clearer picture of what that should entail here soon. Assuming the Troupe will be no different.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± Jaimess laughed- at his Tengu. ¡°Likewise, however. My input is for the Legionaries. We¡¯ve decided that the pay for the Initiated should be reduced to six gold, two silver, and five copper per week. Likewise, the Unranked, or those in training, will be increased to twelve gold and five silver per week. From then on, those in occupational training, or the Brains as they¡¯re called, will receive the standard 25 gold per week. And the pay shall hence double with each increase in rank.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± I nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s put that into effect for everyone who joins after this first class.¡± Pausing, I looked around to those who hadn¡¯t yet said anything. ¡°Letta,Giorno, Zakira, Iris?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to awaken my affinity cores and evolve, if possible. But I¡­¡± Letta paused, looking at the children she took under her wing. ¡°I don¡¯t want to join the Legions.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to.¡± I gave Letta a reassuring smile. ¡°You¡¯re better suited where you are. That said, you and Giorno, or anyone else in the Council can come to awaken your cores and evolve when the others come to train as well if you so wish. The skills you will learn there have just as much use in the civilian realm as in military life. Not to mention, you may need them for the coming tide.¡±


    I ended my words with a pointed look at Kira, who only shrugged. ¡°There are no worlds raised in Maru yet. But if anyone wants to become a cleric or something, that¡¯s totally cool. If not, I¡¯ll send someone over when a world is woven.¡±


    ¡°It may not take as long as you think.¡± I teased, then looked at the little one on her lap.


    ¡°Um.¡± Iris leaned into the table. ¡°My creatures are made of metal and they eat scraps and stuff. Is there a place they could live?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but there¡¯s no place like that here. We can dump things meant for recycling if you¡¯d like?¡± Silas offered.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t want you to do that!¡± Iris groaned. ¡°I¡¯ll find somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°I wish I could offer more help.¡± Silas bowed.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay!¡± Iris hummed.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± I chuckled at her kicking away atop Zakira¡¯s lap and turned back to the chat. ¡°Now, before we go, I¡¯d like to tell everyone here of the behavioral changes we¡¯ll soon see in our citizens. In short, this technological revolution of ours will bring about a second shift in the dynamics of life.


    ¡°Currently, the citizens are in a state of prosperity,¡± I explained to Iris, Etan, and the Troupe remotely. ¡°No longer do they have to spend their lives toiling as farmers and smiths. Anyone can now accumulate wealth and assets, taking our citizens from mere workers to esteemed merchants and scholars. Not out of need. But from want.


    ¡°The cause is technology. It has resulted in the automation of skilled labor,¡± I said, turning back to the Council and the others. ¡°In the same way the undead has automated unskilled labor, for example being used by the construction workers to haul materials, these sophisticated machines will fulfill technical roles. They¡¯ll measure and cut materials and construct buildings while the construction workers take on the role of supervisors, adopt more technical roles, or drastically increase the scale of their projects. ¡°Others may be so freed by this technology that they can run their businesses remotely and branch out into another artisinal crafts or fields of research. Many more people will take up seemingly mundane hobbies or begin adventuring and taking up sports. Perhaps most unsettlingly, we may see a sudden or gradual decline in birth rates. Especially as the life expectancy increases and more opportunities are made available once the Empire is fully realized.


    ¡°All of this is to be expected,¡± I assured them. ¡°Unless our birthrate drops too low and we simultaneously have no influx of immigrants, it is not a problem.


    ¡°Most importantly.¡± I continued after a short pause. ¡°Our citizens are now connected in ways like never before. As we are doing now, we can communicate and share materials and information between the realms nigh-instantaneously. It helps you members of the Council manage the lands without the need to gather in that room. It will help you, Rodin, in keeping our territories secure and our assets protected.¡± I looked to the grizzled Captain. Then to my vassals on the home front. It will help you, Giorno and Letta, find ways to help people and spread your businesses to lands you¡¯ve never been. Toril, Jaimess, Ed, Roheisa, it will help you address the needs of your citizens while you fulfill the duties of the Legions. Above all, it will help our citizens reach their potential.


    ¡°Part of the Troupe¡¯s training, you see, is to form unique industries. Etan, for example, plans to have his subordinates create entertaining and educational programs to be distributed across the various networks.¡± I excitedly explained. ¡°Recorded plays meant to inspire, educate, or entertain. Narrated pieces, depicting wild animals in their natural environments or a nation¡¯s history. Technical lectures detailing some marvel or simulated practice meant to teach their viewers a new skill. Through these programs alone, our citizens can learn and experience the greater realms from the comfort of their homes; in turn, making them as cultured and educated as well-traveled merchants or aristocrats.


    ¡°The other members will benefit us in other ways.¡± I continued. ¡°Blude, for example, deals in¡­ luxury. Fashion, entertainment, wellness, she does it all. Freki is on the path to starting an agricultural revolution. Iris will propel our technology to unseen heights. And so on, and so on. All of this will improve our citizen''s lives so much that they could make an emperor jealous. But let me make one thing clear. We are not creating a utopia. We cannot create a utopia. Our kingdoms will have varying degrees of peace, conflict, law, and order; varying levels of strife and serenity. However, whether it be the relatively peaceful worlds woven in the sky, the chaotic pits carved into the Darkworld, or the natural expanses of the surface, everyone is free to dwell in the place that best aligns with their morals.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± Silas nodded after a few moments of contemplation. ¡°If that is all, we shall continue with our construction. I assume we should do so intending to be complete come time for training?¡±


    ¡°Eh, sure.¡± I shrugged. ¡°The explored realms of Nonus are already aware of my divinity- those who rule do, at least. This coming beam will see to it that Maru does too.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± Silas nodded. ¡°Until then.¡±


    One by one, they disconnected or disappeared, leaving me with my little clan of a vampire and a machine-girl that I suddenly didn¡¯t know what to do with.


    Luckily, someone did.


    ¡°Come on, Iris.¡± Zakira heaved the girl off her lap to guide her away from our home. ¡°Let¡¯s give you the tour. Then, we¡¯ll weave your world.¡±

 346 - Seven Years in Heaven

    Iris Cole.


    ***


    I hardly remember the time I considered to be my infancy. It was all a blur. Hazy faces and fuzzy voices in the furthest depths of my memory banks. And then, silence. Stillness. Fire. A cold that touched my face alone.


    It was on a summer night. I remembered the ground''s warmth giving me heat until it stole it back, bringing the deep cold that remained until dawn. More hazy faces. More fuzzy voices. Then warmth. But the stillness remained.


    Father Horace and Mother Lois. Their faces were the first to crawl from the haze. I remembered words. Not what was said. But their meaning. I remembered tears. Then, I felt despair when I found I couldn''t even wipe them.


    I tried, from then on. For whatever reason, I tried. I could move my head. I could look around. I could speak. I had things still, they always told me, so be thankful for that. Blude understood. And she didn''t pity me. She was angry. At her parents. At those who killed my parents. At the cruelty of reality. She''d bring me to the window. "Never stop dreaming." She''d tell me. Then she''d go off to work, and I''d look out at the skies to dream.


    I''d dream. Every day. Year after year. I dreamed. But there was no one in the blue sky to hear my dreams. No one drifting through the clouds to look my way. No one approaching from distant mountains or seas to save me. Not until the year of 1491.


    I was seven then. The year my childhood began. It was late into the previous year when I and everyone else had an object to focus our dreams; our wishes, our prayers. And unlike the sky, clouds, mountains, and seas, this one cared enough to listen, look, and approach to make my dreams come true in ways I couldn''t have imagined. I was still seven a few months into the following year when it happened; when I emerged as an infant to become an augmented child; when I traveled across the lands to make friends- fourteen of them- before I went home to live through my childhood with my parents- the ones who rebirthed me.


    The first year was the most wondrous; for it was filled with endless learning.


    The first thing I did after my mom and dad gave us the tour was create my world- the Iris. An orbital ring encircling my dad''s star, with thick walls at either end to hold in the open sky through the power of rotation. Illuminated by my dad''s light and cast in shadows by Aunt Opal''s world, it was a ring of jungles, forests, oceans, deserts, and grasslands augmented with the ArcoTech''s essence just as I was, with fortresses and factories for our families strewn throughout.


    The fourteen of us would gather with our families in the morning to meet Etan''s clone. He''d teach us all how to fight. But Mom and Dad fought differently with me. Because I adopted the name Cole, we''d fight until my hardware was broken and I was on the brink of shutting down. Then, I''d self-repair and we''d start again. And after, we''d eat breakfast and go about our studies. We, however, were augmented. The Noctis Archives was copied into our memories. So our studies were closer to practice, and we practiced everything. We drew and painted; played instruments; made pots; learned how to smelt and cast metal or cut stone, butcher and cook; any and every basic craft and skill one could think of, we practiced until lunch.


    On some days, that lunch would be eaten with other members of the Troupe. In either case, the 14 of us would group up and explore the ring and play until Etan returned at nightfall for three more hours of training. Then we''d all go home to spend time with our families. I spent that time playing Space Shogi with Dad while he told me stories. Sometimes, I was with Mom learning how to be a cleric. And about her past as a Vampyr Lady.


    It didn''t take long to understand the extent of being augmented. My mom explained it best, given that us augmented beings had a developmental evolution like Vampyr. Our bodies changed as we aged, melding with more machines to become whole and enhance our internal process; survive in a wider range of temperatures, become more durable, and so on. On top of that, it gave me Sorcery. Technecromancy. The signs of it were already there, with the quick transition of my limbs, granted by the Warp Screws and the carousel in my pocket dimension for my limbs.


    Within a few weeks, however, my operating system upgraded to boast several different settings or operative modes. A combat mode and an overclocking ability. Plus a scanning mode and a setting for silent running. A few months later, we surpassed my dad''s standards in the basic industries and were rewarded in different ways. For all of us, that reward manifested in implanted armor, weapons, or tools. In my case, it was an opportunity to fabricate a deployable exosuit made of ''light leather'' and ''feathers'' from the augmented creatures of my ringworld. As amazing as they were though, they were only foundations for what was to come.


    Later rewards came when we moved past the standard lessons. In turn, I developed the ability to tinker with the suit and integrate devices like a back-mounted camera or a naval light into the suit. Again, when we passed the intermediate lessons, my exosuit evolved into a set of scale mail; then, I gained the ability to install turreted wands on my upper arms and place gimbaled shield projectors on my shoulders. We were experts in all things industry by the end of the first year. With that title came robotic and remote-controlled installations. Snaking sensors in my hair. A belt that could unfurl and extend into a tail with a spiky club at the end. Things of that nature.


    So it was, our teachings were turned into dreams that became plans we sought to put in motion during the next phase.


    The second year was the most inspiring, for it was then that we began to create our foundation.


    Using the knowledge we cultivated about the Legions, witchcraft, medicine, magic, art, artificing, enchanting, and science, we became legendary industrialists by first creating our business- our corporation of industries made of industries; Iris Cole Engineering, or ICE; and second, by crafting our legendary guild.


    From the Mortal Plane''s perspective, ICE had one mission: Production. We mass-produced machines that could create machines that could fulfill every task the powerful often employed slaves for. I made automatons for construction and resource acquisition, and devices for cleaning, cooking, and other household tasks in addition to equipment to make such endeavors safer for such fragile beings. For the less wealthy, I mass-produced technological variants of every enchantment used by mortals below. Lights. Heating and cooling units. Ovens and radiators. Voice boxes. Fabric cleaning units. Everything one could think of. For governments, guilds, militaries, and nobility, I mass-produced things enchantments couldn''t or rarely could do. Namely, computation units, data crystals, and other information-exchanging devices. For those without magic or the means to manipulate mana, I made accessories; glasses, or other clothes that could attune with the devices to play sounds or display images or more, mimic spellcraft.


    For my friends, that consisted of different products. The bards, Elias and Margo, took dissimilar artistic routes. Elias and his two closest friends, Elliot and Reed, delved into creating simulations to assist in learning while Margo her three supporters stayed with music, using computers to translate otherwise undetectable sounds, sample noises from the ambiance, or synthesize new ones entirely. Kane was a Chorian gnomish orphan who decided to make gadgets with his little brother to facilitate their roguish endeavors. Others like Elysia, Kai, and Alex weren''t lucky enough to be able to leave the orphanage. Much less have friends. So they weren''t as comfortable with the outdoors and took up working in the deepest reaches of ICE full-time with Elias, making robots, designing software, or tinkering with electrical systems in their domains.


    From our, Eotrom''s, and the Legions'' perspective, ICE was responsible for making us as prosperous as we were deadly, for the weapons built within were legendary.


    My weapon of legend began with the blueprint of an oversized parasol merged with one of a caduceus staff, then mixed with the likeness of a spear attached to a high-speed rotor. For the materials, I used Dimensionite for the haft and wrapped beams of Inertial Timber and Clima-Tree Lumber around the folding mechanisms. The rotor, on the other hand, was of Volterum soaked in Porous Lube, leaving the parasol mechanism to be made of Dimensionite so I could manipulate the blades with ease. The result was a comically large, canvas-less parasol with sharp blades capable of actuating and rotating in place, allowing it to take the shape of a lance, parasol, or something akin to a flagless war banner. The hilt seemed ceremonial, yet could change its shape on command, and with the machinations within, could float freely, manipulate the surrounding atmosphere, and rotate fast enough to be used as a rotary flight machine.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    In short, it was a tool only I could use effectively, and a devastating weapon few could defend against. Yet, that was only the first item of legend I created. For Stein, my corgi, I first augmented him to make him more like me; not to mention vastly more intelligent. I then made an exosuit with all the features of mine and more, a forge for the metals he eats and digests into his augmented, clay-like ore. It boasted robotic arms for manipulation, gimbaled wings with Grav Crystals for flight, and even a litter of androids in varying sizes that he could switch his mind to freely.


    For my friends, the task of becoming legendary industrialists was more varied. Their creations ranged from musical instruments, more specific devices, or even tools of war like the former gladiators from Mazi, Aqsa Gould, a half-orc who made prosthetic or implantable weapons; and Oliva, an orc who did the same with siege equipment.


    So it was, we released our new products to be purchased on the networks across the Empire, and then took our creations in hand to face what came next.


    The third year was the most humbling, for it was then that the real training began.


    As a Cole, I grew stronger in darkness and death. But I had to train for it. I had been told that for years. But when I turned ten, I learned what that truly meant. As my dad did when he was ten, and his father and his father before, we didn''t just fight against each other, we warred against each other. Every night. All night. Me and my friends against him, Etan, and my mom.


    Needing no sleep, we had quality time over breakfast immediately after our warring. Then, we''d begin combat training with a far stricter Etan. He drilled us constantly and would set up ambushes or raids during the strangest of times, demanding through his actions that we keep our wits about us at all times. Once those three hours passed, Etan would depart and we''d take lessons from various people. We learned to create enchantment crystals from my dad first. Then we learned of the realms and nature from a lady named Olga. A man with silver hair named Doyle taught us spellcasting and how to blend it with martial combat. My mom taught us about the Legion''s two main religions and how I related to them, devils, undead, and vampires.


    Two months into that year, different members of the Troupe began stopping by. Not to hang out as they had done before. To teach. We learned hygiene, recreation, finance, business, and the culinary arts from Blude and her friends. Etan taught us a bit about the arcane and a lot about the monastic arts; more so with Deeke, who had a monastic path open to him. Geri taught us how to survive, track, and hunt in the wild while Freki taught us how civilizations foraged, ranched, and farmed. Wilson taught us alchemy and hedge wizardry. Rickley taught us how to entertain, act, perform, and scare. Reina taught us the sacred druidic arts and biology. And Leary¡­


    Leary taught us how to destroy, and in turn, taught us the meaning of creation.


    The training didn''t let up after that, though. On the contrary, it only grew more demanding, for that was then that we devoted ourselves to our classes.


    Rickley returned to me first to tell me all she learned in Chor about being a bard. Then I was tasked with merging those teachings into a role that could lead and inspire what would become millions of Legionaries scattered across the planes. When she left, Wilson returned to impart his advanced knowledge of wizardry, coupled with my dad who taught me necromancy. Or rather, he taught me how to use the necromancy he imparted to me.


    Once I mastered both my Technomancy and my Technecromancy, no one else came; for it was then that I started going to their worlds. Still, though, only my parents and Etan''s clone remained on my orbital ring, looking over me and my friends while we organized ourselves into parties and teams, set up formations, and established the foundation of our combat units. During that time, Callie Payne, a gnomish rescue from Mazi with four younger siblings, was officially recognized as my knight, putting her on the course to becoming a Paladin. She already created her oath too; The Oath of Augmentation. Likewise, Valentina began taking lessons from my mom, hoping to become my cleric while her parents remained as witches and taught Erja Rose. Shortly after, Zalan Aygul, an elf, asked Reina to return so that he could attune himself to his lost culture more, but with the intent to form a new sphere; the Augmented Sphere. Naturally, that attracted the high-elf rescue, Gaheris Rainer, who was on a path to bringing the skills of a ranger to urban environments. In turn, that attracted Reina to me.


    With our similar roles involving Sim-Sim, me and Reina became close friends. She even made someone to keep him company as I did. But beyond that, we both created a recycling center to purify any lands we encountered. And after, we devised a little game to see who would get to reclaim the land.


    So it was, we adopted idiosyncratic lifestyles, then went on to turn those lifestyles into cultures.


    The fourth year was the most frustrating, for it was then that I had to birth something new.


    It was difficult for me. If only because I struggled to find a purpose for the pinnacle of the ringworld I''d created- Sentient Crystals, born alongside the world and otherwise produced only by the creatures at the top of the food chain. Rubies. Sapphires. Emeralds; all exceedingly intelligent; all with exceedingly different personalities; all self-described royals.


    The ruby was the most malevolent of them, but not wholly. Mazer Matrons saw themselves as feminine entities who were harsh but fair, even in war, for they used their high-powered beam to burn anything they deemed a threat. They thought themselves fit to be judges, captains of law-enforcement, executioners, or even military officers.


    The sapphire was the most benevolent of them, almost to a fault. Pious Patrons saw themselves as masculine entities with high emotional intelligence and almost no will to fight. They preferred to use their energy to guide people, bring hope or insight, and spread good fortune. In turn requesting to work as healthcare officials, manage rehabilitation centers, or oversee disaster relief.


    The emerald was the most impartial of them, annoyingly or not. Honorable Heirs saw no need to distinguish themselves by anything but their names, instead adopting an androgynous flair of wit and elegance that could appeal to both of their counterparts equally. They pointed out the sheer logic behind their actions using their great memory and computing power, even going as far as to provide in-depth reasons why each proposed career would be perfect for their peers, acting as diplomats, public speakers, emissaries, and more.


    That was all fine. The problem, however, was that they preferred to work in teams. One Matron. One Patron. One Heir. In turn, I didn''t know how to integrate them into my first real invention. So, in the end, I didn''t. I elected to use them as catalysts to augment the Legions'' generals, giving me a new foundation to bring back to the drawing board. A foundation based on the principle of Legionaries never dying, but multiplying, and thriving.


    I combined my tech, augmentation, and necromancy to design the Soul Splitter for my dad''s precious Legionaries. Or, to put it another way, I came up with a way to truly split a Legionary into two parts upon their death. It required us to scan and copy the individual''s persona and, up to a certain point, their memories. After that, they''d live as normal until Grimm''s Reaper loomed over their head. Then, their squishy flesh would be pulled from their body and thrown into the under, allowing their soul to find a temporary residence in Eotrom. What was left of their bones would be augmented to make a new frame before the soul was called down to occupy it. Meanwhile, the flesh would eventually become a devil, wherein my Dad or, more likely, their android half would summon it back to the Mortal Plane to stand beside its mirror.


    So it was, I blew not only my parents'' minds but the minds of many others in the Empire; preparing, if barely, for what was to come.


    The fifth year was the most eye-opening, for it was then that I took my first step into the Legions.


    I was tasked with organizing the Legions and streamlining their orders, ensuring that none of them stepped on each other''s toes and instead supported each other from afar. I established areas of operation for them and gave them basic orders, goals, and training regimes. Simultaneously, I designed medals, ribbons, ceremonies, balls, and other traditions or awards, then distributed them accordingly. With that done, I learned the truth behind my favorite game. Or rather, the truth was admitted. Space Shogi was a simulation of war, blown up in scale to encompass every plane of existence.


    That revelation changed nothing.


    I still loved the game. Thus I improved it for the sake of my role. Not only that, I augmented my mind with a sub-cortex for the sole function of tracking players in the game down to the smallest movement. An effort that was rewarded with blessings from my father to cement my tone, and presence as the Praefectus Noctis. General of the Legions'' generals.


    So it was, I began overseeing all the Legions did while the unease of what was to come only grew.


    The sixth year was the most stressful, for it was then that I was tested.


    I took up my role as a Cyberneticist by creating a basic suite of augmented reality enhancements for the Legionaries soon to join. Then, I improved on it to greatly enhance the senses of our non-commissioned officers. It was improved once again for the junior officers and seasoned NCOs, granting them a Noxweave neural shroud with a nano-computer made from Bio-Gold and Data shards preloaded with the Noctis Archives, granting them mental control of their infrastructure. Musculoskeletal Enhancement augmentations were added for field officers and senior NCOs. Defense augmentations for staff officers. Mental augmentations for senior officers. And access to the Master Game for the generals as well as perks like my scanning ability and auras.


    Naturally, the Troupe got access to all those things and more. But even that wasn''t the end, for I went on to tailor those suites with augmentations and enhancements containing the powers and abilities of the Legion''s founding members, to be distributed once their troops completed their training. An effort that lasted for the entirety of the year.


    So it was, we reached the last step of our developmental evolution. We left my world for what may have been the final time before our return to the Mortal Plane, eager to face what came next.


    The seventh year was the most rewarding, for it was then that I expanded my Mana Well, awakened my affinities, and ascended as the Tech Goddess of Eotrom.

 347 - Black Lion

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    Eotrom was the most beautiful place I had ever seen. It was a realm of realms. A vast canvas waiting to be painted with matter and energy rather than an endless plane of rock and water. A realm wherein material spheres drifted in a perpetual dance through the void. A fitting domain for the Weaver of Worlds.


    My world was no different. Yet it was unique to my person. It was equal to where Paradise would be on the Mortal Plane. Rotating in silence so that the light of Mani and the Iris formed around it would rise and fall across its skies daily. It was an orb of towering mountains, lush forests, deep canyons, and vast oceans infused with my power to have none. An ascetic place where time was both infinite and instantaneous. Untamed, save for a single monastery carved in the face of a cliff.


    Arcana flowed in the air, snaking through the rivers and melding into the flora and fauna of this isolated world of death made so much like the world in which Amun was raised. But that energy was denied from flowing through sentient beings. Including me. But not my clones.


    My moons were dissimilar in design; first and foremost, because they belonged to those I brought to Eotrom under my wing; secondly, because such things were required for my industries.


    It is without shame that I admit I copied the designs of Ed and Iris by constructing a ring around my world, for it was there where I built a domain to wind down in luxury. More importantly, it was where I established the Astral Archives. A Dreamscape library, filled with the memories of Eotrom. The place where the tragic tale of Amun''s past was stored and kept secret from the unproven masses. It was also on that ring that I established my business, the Astral Publishing House, for up-and-coming writers or authors with a little spellbinding added into the mix.


    Similarly, my subordinates dispersed to opposing sectors of that ring to erect their headquarters while their worlds remained as citadels and wildlands. Tacnan Gemeye''s moon was the most quaint of them. A seemingly barren moon with an atmosphere that made for a deep blue sky. But beneath those barren mountains and dusty plains were endless caverns and tunnels made in ways deep gnomes would never believe. Then again, he was no longer a deep gnome just as I was not quite a drow. Paragons of our species, we both were. And more.


    Regardless, he studied the bardic practices with the mind to found the School of Education. In a never-ending cycle, he''d find a topic that interested him and would learn as much as he could. Or rather, he would learn and continue learning until he could explain it to even the most simple-minded individuals. In other cases, he''d sit with clones of Amun and myself, creating dreamscape tomes of our histories and standardizing the teachings of manipulating mana, the elemental practices, and other mandatory arts such as flight. At other times, he watched the Mortal Plane from above or trained endlessly with my clone, developing new fighting styles for the Legions. My other subordinates, on the other hand, were younger¡ªchildren by the standards of their species. Recruited for the same reason Amun recruited Leary, I was certain.


    Ginku the ogre was the eldest of them. Not that such a distinction meant anything. Like any ogre would have, she formed a lush world much like mine, only filled with much more megafauna for her to hunt and eat. Being a paragon with the same sorcery as I, however, made her far smarter and emotionally intelligent than anyone else of her kind. Her sulfur-yellow skin developed purple splotches on her shoulders and freckles along her face. Her flesh became denser, reducing her size by a fair margin while her tusks grew thinner and yet sharper.


    Turr, the bearbug was no different. Neither was the hobgoblin, Glok. Nor the goblin, Rimoire. The paragons inherited the nebulous energies of my domain and formed worlds under the impression of being the perpetual rulers of their moons. That mentality stayed even as they were educated, taught hygiene and etiquette, and began their training.


    That stopped when we took a trip to Iris. There, they met the Tech Goddess. There, we all augmented our skeletons with the same treated adamantine present in Leary and further augmented our fingers with Dimensionite claws. Our minds were upgraded with Data Shards to expand our mental capabilities and grant us a similar version of the ''Eternal Eye'' used by Amun, controlled by a neural weave of Biogold.


    When we returned to our worlds, all was different. Still, my clones trained the others in the monastic arts. But the lessons proceeded a lot smoother and far faster. No longer did I have to teach the four young ones to read, count, and write. The Noctis Archives had copied itself into our second minds. Thus they took it upon themselves to become fluent in half a dozen languages, then went on to teach others those languages.


    No longer were they simple creatures. But they were creatures of the nebula. We were creatures of the nebula. Most intriguingly, no longer were their moons untamed deathworlds. They were realms that wore the purpose of their rulers on their scabbards. Like the faces of their rulers, the moons all had speckled skies of slate-blue to purple hues sprinkled across a gilded background. Tacnan and I were the only exceptions, with skin the color of their freckles and white hair that was far more voluminous than before.


    Ginku took up a form of witchcraft focused on healing the mental spirit and restructured her moon to reflect it. Every landscape from forests to deserts to cities to her very office had been carved and restructured to elicit a specific response from those suffering from mental ailments. Not to punish them, but to guide them through the healing process.


    Turr returned as an Uplifter. A seeker of species deemed ''lesser'' by those so often called civilized; a nebulous hobgoblin who sought to uplift feral orc, goblin-kin, Lizalfok, and kobold societies with knowledge and technology. And so it was that his moon was filled with environments befit for such creatures. Empty, for now. But soon to be filled with those slain by his hand and thus taught a better way in death.


    Much more quaint was Glok, who took up a management position at the publishing house; not as the business runner, as the head of the printing department. His world became a sphere banded by rainforested valleys with caps of boreal mountains. The latter of which became his operations center. Below ground, his mills made everything from minted tablets to data pads and inscribed them for distribution on the surface above.


    Rimoire was a Seeker also. But a true Seeker. An unseen agent and a collector of information, forever on the hunt for seeds of knowledge to feed the Archives. Yet, so too was he an analyst. A decoder. A decipherer and in turn, a cipher. As a result, her world was the most grand of all, with learning halls as large as valleys and libraries as voluminous as lakes.


    As for me, I returned to my ring as a student of mental witchcraft. Or, as Amun called it, Psychiatry, but merged with my abilities to look into the true version of an individual rather than only their mind. Naturally, my world was reformed to reflect this occupation. Subtly so. The deathworld remained. My powers remained imbued within. Time still flowed without passing. Potent energies still flowed within. Powers and abilities were stripped from those who wandered the surface still. Still, it was a sphere capped in oceans and continents frozen solid, separated by every biome one could think of with naught but a sole monastery found on its surface.


    There were only three apparent differences. The first and most obvious was its ludicrous size, boasting a diameter of 238,000 kilometers. The second was the vast fields of ice and stone trapped in orbit, forming beautiful rings that stretched nearly twice the planet''s distance out into the void. Lastly, was the artificial ring. Widened and expanded and still just out of reach of the planet''s atmosphere but canted to encircle the world from pole to pole.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    All of it. The rings. The band. The geography. Every aspect of my domain was carefully manipulated. Each sector of every region was molded to elicit a specific emotion or response in those who wandered the surface. Each square kilometer was under surveillance and made bountiful in resources- raw resources; attainable only with the power of one''s body and mind.


    With those changes, my world became a world of testing- a deathworld of suffering for the Noctis Legionaries. Beauty. Ruthlessness. Danger. Cunning. Power. It had all the traits of the world Amun was born in and those who dwelled on it. And so, those who landed there would leave with the very traits born in Amun; including his madness.


    It was through this that my world became the foundation of our ''black Ops'' Project. And so it was only right that I was to be the first to live and suffer in that world with magic I could not use.


    So it was, I landed in a thick rainforest, naked in all regards. Accompanied only by Nalyla, the jaguar I adopted in Chor. Together, we tasted the pain of a body weakened from starvation. We faced the headaches and nausea born from dehydration. We suffered through the numbing waves brought on by the intense heat. The dreary pains of disease. All of it and more. But we fought on still. For food, we fought. For water, we snuck. For shelter, we intimidated. We got it right in time.


    In time, we secured a cove near a water source. In time, I made crude stone or wooden tools to improve my living conditions and grant us the means to hunt larger creatures. In time, I began crafting more- leaves stitched with vines to make clothes for me; more leaves to make beds for us, set near the pit of fire for warmth. Then, the long winter came.


    Together, we faced the helplessness born from watching our food dwindle to rot more than it disappeared into our bellies. We met the despair brought on by the biting cold of ingested snow and frozen sweat. We suffered through the debilitating horrors of hypothermia and frostbite. Together, we faced death; only then were our mistakes revealed to us.


    So it was, I landed in a vast mesa, naked in all regards. Accompanied only by Nalyla, the jaguar I adopted in Chor. Together, we took the mistakes of our past selves and set out to find water within the lands we found ourselves in. I made the simplest stone tools- a sharp rock and a pointy stick. I hunted enough creatures to make a decent food supply and some crude clothes; tasks that were easier said than done, but we managed in time.


    In time, I learned to stack chopped wood into simple huts roofed with hides. I made certain to gather enough wood and smoke enough food for winter. In time, I made clay pots to store food and water. I made an outdoor kitchen of clay and stone. I made baubles and toys to drive off the madness of loneliness. Then came the natives.


    Not the likes of humanoids, but animals. Magical animals. Giant animals. Paragon creatures. All out for the blood of a nebulous drow without magic, ki, or the VoidNet. Together, we came to understand the fear of being powerless against the all-powerful. Together, we understood what it meant to rage against a cruel world. Together, we died. And only then did we learn where we went wrong.


    So it was, I landed atop a tumultuous mountain to once again live as a being without magic in a deathworld of the arcane, attempting in futility to develop technology with my wits and my flesh alone. I continued for seven decades. Not that time meant anything on my World of Excellence. Only the mind could age there. Only the mind could mature, become humbled, knowledgeable, and wise. In doing so, I did not study these crafts. I did not learn these skills. I lived just as my Amun''s people lived, dedicated to moving through the ages of technology the same way He had done in our world of magic.


    As a result of my struggle, Ginku created a profile of my psyche deep within the Net; and later, a copy of my persona was added by Iris. Both were encrypted by Rimoire to be stored not in the Archives within the artificial ring, but in the core of my world, for it was so that each event was the effect of my realized dream.


    It began after my world and moons were formed for the first time. As Amun did, I sent clones to each member of the Troupe, including Amun. Meanwhile, my physical body remained in my temple with a facsimile of Amun, who gave me some introductory lessons in the study of matter and energy he called physics- a fascinating field of study, without a doubt. Yet, it was put on hold in favor of me helping him construct the Core Annex. More specifically, for one of my clones to help him while his true self accompanied me. And with him at my side, I turned my focus to the prize we uncovered in Redagh.


    I had no worries venturing into the Astral Plane with him. Not by virtue of him being a god, but by virtue of him being the void incarnate. From birth, his mind could be far emptier than mine or even Abbot Eiriol''s could, resulting in the most relaxed I''d ever been when attempting to detach. I needn''t even assist him in astral projection. As I turned out, he faced the cruel way of learning, wherein his spirit was forced from his body via an outside force- the Necro King. It was a surprise to learn he had never used the skill since. Though I could hardly blame him, being born with the means to both become like a wraith and slip into the Shadow Realm at will. The Astral Plane, however, was different. It was what the Plane of Shadow was to the Faewoods- the dark mirror of the Spirit Realm. A place where thoughts and dreams reigned supreme. A graveyard for the creatures both inaccurately and rightly called divine, as opposed to their sanctuary.


    Even reaching it was a mirror to venturing into the Shadow realm. One Astral Projected, then ascended, rather than descended. Once past the sky, the Mortal Plane disappeared and all became a realm of gray. Cloud-like. Incorporeal, like our bodies. Mostly, at least. Most things were as formless as our projections, but several structures of planetary scales were said to be scattered across that infinite realm of thoughts and dreams. Namely, the corpses of spirits, the cadavers of deities, and the petrified bodies of their lost servants- like their sphinxes.


    Like Ari-Zmon.


    The summoning was hardly eventful. The Grandmaster Artificer''s perks only described its existence. Yet the slightest thought of that ancient name summoned a mountain of solid stone that put my world to shame. A mere optical illusion, I knew it to be. So after a slight moment of surprise, I only saw it as a large rock.


    The resurrection, however, left us both speechless.


    A touch was all it took to summon the colossal husk to my world, and upon our return, we found the structure drinking the realm''s divine energies, both mine and his. Therein we learned the most astounding fact. Ari-Zmon was not a sphinx. Ari and Zmon were sphinxes; a bonded pair. What was more, they seemed to recognize Amun and glean his intent the instant they met his eyes, stating he appeared different while calling him that ancient name- Zefroth, then took on the role of guarding Amun''s most dangerous secrets of technology and war without our asking.


    That was little to no surprise, however. With eyes that could see through time, they knew more than me and perhaps even Amun. Thus my mild shock turned to determination once they tasked me with reforming this world into a testing ground of dual-purpose.


    It was decided that this would be where Legionaries would be trained to become Non-Commissioned Officers; where they would return for the Officer Candidacy Crucible; where they would return once more to become Field Officers, and again to become Staff Officers, yet again to become Command Officers, and yet again to become General Officers. So it was dictated that I build structures appropriate to mold troops into the finest leaders and commanders the Mortal Plane had ever seen.


    It was decided that Ari would scour the planes of existence in search of those outside the Empire with worthy potential. She would bring them to my world to be tested openly by me and privately by Zmon, and reward their divine efforts appropriately for the sake of their realms.


    It was decided that Zmon would gaze upon those in my world and summon those worthy to him, in the core. He would test them privately and Ari publicly to select those appropriate for our budding black ops units. Then, here, on this deathworld without magic, the Troupe''s special operatives would be born; including operatives for the members we had yet to recruit.


    My brother''s arcane terrorists. Iris'' elite augmented marines. Blude''s mafia of nation topplers. Geri''s combative rescue squad. Freki''s assault force. Wilson''s chemical army. Rickley''s spies. Reina''s Omega Brood. Leary''s mechanized band of militant goblin paragons. All of their recruits would be recruited or at the very least trained from here. However, it was decided that only those chosen for my organization would remain here.


    Only my soldiers would be stripped of their names and titles just as their memories would be stripped from the minds of mortals. Only my agents would be unshackled from the bonds of time and death. Only my operatives would follow in my steps, living lives of suffering and awe as powerless beings in this arcane world. Only they would roam this world as scholastic warriors from childhood unto death, learning until their decades came to an end.


    Only they would then be reborn as an angel of destruction wielded by our Eternal God-Emperor- a Zed Force Operative.

 348 - The Orcinus Mafia

    Chako Blude


    ***


    I remembered.


    No, not I. We.


    We remembered a time of gleeful ignorance. A time when we were the matriarch of our domain. Monarchs of the sea. We remembered freedom coupled with power; power coupled with intellect. We remembered a dream.


    Parties. Gangs. Guilds. Syndicates. Mafias. They were all the same at a fundamental level. We were all the same. We wanted to become more like the one who made us. So we dreamed. Two beings, dissimilar in all regards. Save that one thing. A dream to build a family and explore at his side. A dream that brought us together and merged us into a newly made woman. That was what I remembered.


    Eotrom. An endless sea with many islands; the largest being Mani, wherein the Silverstream Forest played songs that made us remember. We remembered our kin. Our daughters and sons- the first sky orcas of Eotrom. They remembered us. And how eager we were to reunite with them. How eager they were to become like us.


    As their matriarch, I couldn''t have been happier. But as their matron, I had to set an example.


    Orcinus, I explained to them, roughly translated to ''Of the Dead Kingdom.'' The underworld, the ocean depths- the domain of our extended group of pods and families. The Weaver of Worlds granted us power over the seas. And so it was our mission to spread his influence across the World Seas, swimming through the fluids of liquids and solids alike and inevitably connecting the mortal realms in ways like never before.


    That was to be accomplished by first building a network of nomadic kingdoms beneath the sea, just like Amun was doing above the sky. Thus, our first task was to form our Umas with his help.


    Born from the flesh of the creatures that dwelled within our spirits, they emerged as stony or metallic husks forged in the same form and color scheme as the orcas. Colossal creatures, somewhere between 10 and 13 kilometers long. Hollow bio-mechanical machines. Mere frames with semi-transparent walls and stone floors waiting to be filled with landscapes, cities, and Estates. Grand Hadal Estates, a haven where the most esteemed rogues, ne''er-do-wells, and of course, Legionaries could flock. So too, however, was the Mafia to build strongholds, safe houses, and fortresses across lake beds, river basins, and sea floors; polished mirrors of the dark Umas that roamed the open seas they were. Lavish resorts and various services strategically placed throughout the world''s waters; opened only to those approved by the Mafia for their more benevolent deeds.


    Just as Amun formed the Legions to protect his realm, our Mafia was to protect our Umas and habitats from the Mermaid Mob, Triton Kingdoms, Atlantean Dominions, and Sea Elf Clans that all felt as if they owned the seas. Similar to the Legionaries, our made men and women would exhibit the highest level of discipline. They would be most capable. The most ruthless. Just like Amun, we were to operate on the surface as legitimate business owners of nomadic undersea resorts. We would be nondiscriminatory towards those we would meet and conduct business with. But not towards those we would assist or recruit. We would direct our help towards those who had similar pasts to us. Those branded as rogues. Outcasts; the poor, the sick, the unskilled and uneducated. We would give passes to anyone thrown away by society, opening our Suites for them to be pampered, healed, and educated. Their stay could see them gain work and accrue wealth, then they''d return to the surface to make something more of themselves.


    And so it was. We wove the planet Orcus into existence. Our world stood out in Eotrom because of its lacked of moons and watery composition. Only a few of the many mountain ranges breached the surface to form islands,some of which were lifted into the air to float- safe havens for seals and seabirds alike.


    For five years, we worked, trained, implemented, and improved. We designed and exported en masse. Days passed on the Mortal Plane in the meantime, thus feedback trickled in slowly, only to be countered and implemented within relative minutes. Day by day, we worked. Year by year, we improved. In time, more of our companions arrived. And more, we improved.


    Iris was the first to appear, seeming to be around my age, if not older. She fawned over our Umas- after our reunion, of course. Within them, she guided us in installing machines and technology to increase their sensory range, maneuverability, and combat capabilities. Then she put machines inside of us to grant us control of every aspect of our Umas from afar. With those augmentations came a mind that worked far more keenly than ever. We absorbed her lessons as easily as water, gaining within days the capacity to make technology for our occupations with our own hands. Then she left us to fill our Umas with infrastructure made by our hands.


    Simultaneously, we absorbed Etan''s lessons. Of course, he continued teaching us how to fight as usual, appearing day after day with new techniques tailored for submerged combat or our transformations. From his subordinates, however, we learned many languages and got psychological screenings. Seemingly for shits and giggles. At least until he began passing on his knowledge to us.


    He laid bare our faults and weaknesses. Then he taught us how to overcome them before we learned how to intimidate, deceive, and manipulate like drow; how to read people and use intuition and logic to predict their actions; how to plan not years or even decades into the future, but centuries and millennia- a foundation, it was, for the rogue course we would take later under Amun was much more challenging, for I, specifically, learned the ways of the Mastermind.


    Geri taught us animal handling skills; mostly for creatures of the land, but also some things translated across all forms of life. The same concept went into her scouting or tracking exercises and winter operations; all the while she taught us how to operate a myriad of high-powered vehicles before demanding we design fast movers capable of traversing the land, sea, and air. And when all was done, her winter wolves went about the skin of our vessels to install manufacturing complexes, maintenance bays, and hangars for our new vehicles.


    Like his sister, Freki taught us about animals. Specifically, how to hunt, herd, and farm everything from mollusks and clams to marlin and seabirds. Then, he taught us how to make salves, ointments, or other herbal concoctions with the materials we didn''t eat. Moreover, he collaborated with us to connect his land and air-based industries with ours for the sake of both himself and the Legions.


    The other, darker members of the Troupe came with surprisingly more varied lessons. Wilson, for instance, taught us a bit of his hedge wizardry, magic circles, sigils, words of power, and a lot of alchemy. He taught us how to gather alchemical ingredients from the reef without harming it and much the same with heat and minerals from hydrothermal vents. Then, he taught us how to use our necromancy and slip between planes.


    Rickley taught us the bardic arts and how to entertain various people during anything from a funeral to a sporting event. Strangely enough, she taught us how to use poison for healing and, in Sam''s case, to cook poisonous food for her undying palette. We learned sociology from her, as well as how to dispose of the dead in ways that ranged from preservation and mummification to liquidation and butchery. Not to mention she shared what she learned about fencing and cursed items.


    Reina taught us biology. Of germs and microbes and flora and fauna. Of how they all fit into ecology and the sacred druidic arts; then how all of that fit into science. Specifically disease and medicine. Like with Freki, that brought us to form a partnership with her, wherein she could build her clinics in any of our structures to heal those who needed it the most, and we would build a resort for each of her Broods.


    Leary taught us not just how to destroy, but how to create as well; more importantly, he showed us how the two went hand in hand. Admittedly, weapons of destruction comprised most of it, but inventing and engineering comprised a fair portion as well. And more, from him, we learned about goblin phenotypes and their culture. About the difference between the savage and civilized variants of Betrarthean natives; Goblinoids and Orcish alike. Then, he forced us to listen to his admittedly ambitious plans to strengthen that culture upon our return to the Plane before he talked of bones endlessly.


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    They taught us much; we taught them more. After we prospered, of course.


    I learned and then taught the Troupe all about my particular focus. REST. Recreation, Entertainment, Sports, and Tourism.


    I first learned how to pamper everyone and everything using every cosmetic skill Amun knew of, then built facilities to ensure everyone maintained their hygiene. Especially Leary, who took many days of scrubbing and hundreds of treatments to even begin to look passable. Etan''s subordinates were invariably worse. Not as bad as the undead- not as bad as Reina. But of course, what I learned went beyond that. I learned how medicine and witchcraft could alter one''s appearance, cover up one''s actions, and make fighting more efficient. But of course, that was just on the surface.


    The depths of knowledge I traversed were visible not only to the rest of the Troupe but also to my other Orcinus Matriarchs as well. Kali was the first of them. The Elven orphan from Shavew became the Grand Hadal Enterprise''s Senior Healthcare Specialist by day and the Mafia''s Master Assassin by night. She had 8 members in her pod, each specializing in a different type of healthcare. Pediatric care. Childcare. General care. Eldercare. Aftercare. Trauma Care. Therapy. Research. Each of them specialized in a unique method of assassination: Accidental, according to investigations; Messy, where there was to be no restraint; Whacking, to be done in the open; to be Ghosted was to disappear without a trace; Bounties were to be returned alive, if barely; a Message was used to instill fear; to Frame was to pin the murder on another; a Mystique was an unsolvable case.


    Each of them taught the Troupe the basics of their professions; both sides of them. Unlike the other two subordinates of my pod; for their professions blended seamlessly into civil and uncivil life.


    Gwehn, the up-and-coming gang leader I recruited from Chor, took up everything related to sports. She and her six subordinates constructed vast gymnasiums and went to study the physiologies of every known creature to build machines that could improve their physical fitness. They then recreated a number of games from the depths of the Archives, tailoring them for those with and without magic. The conclusion was each of them took over a distinct style of sport. Summer sports, winter sports, casual sports, extreme sports, water sports, and air sports. As a side gig, however, they would offer themselves to the locals as ''Hoons''- Hired Goons. Protection, escort, and bodyguard services were what they offered openly. Naturally, that extended to them teaching the Troupe how to protect VIPs and other security related tasks.


    Lizlee, on the other fin, was an orphan from Chor. An up-and-coming bard like so many others. But unlike others, one who studied in the School of Media. Her pod of seven was a journalist, a broadcaster, a publisher, a radio host, a show host, a streamer, and a ManaNet forum administrator. Their job was simple. To take the abundant information pouring in from the various networks and edit them to be more entertaining before distributing them across the realms. They then taught the Troupe the potential effects of information spreading like wildfire, then taught them how to use those effects to create propaganda, disinformation campaigns, spoofing, and overloading techniques.


    As my group of pods took up the sea to specialize in the residential sector, Sam and her pod of thirteen grouped up with the pods of Emily and Chloala to claim dominion over the surface. Thus resulting in a group centered on commerce.


    Being the matriarch, Sam''s pod was the largest; though not because of that factor alone. Being quite the talented chef, she''d been studying everything related to food and recruited thirteen cooks from a Chorian kitchen to bring her food industry to fruition. They each had roles, both professionally and in the Mafia. Sam was the proprietor of her industry, unceremoniously named Sam''s Kitchen. Yet, she was also the Mafia''s premier smuggler. Her second in command was her executive chef. Followed by the head and sous chefs; smugglers for the land, sea, and air, the three of them. Then there was the Chef of Fish, the Chef of Meats, the Chef of Veggies, the Saute and Pastry Chefs, the Master Butcher, and the Sauce Boss. All had jobs in the Mafia that were invariably separate from their professions. All but the three senior chefs. Theirs blended into a role that kept one side hidden from the light that reached the surface.


    The Senior Chef of the Garrison was the first of them; responsible for feeding the Mafia and those they protected. Second was the Senior Chef of Exportation; responsible for preparing and storing food for exportation to the impoverished, refugees, those suffering from famines, or those in post-war recovery. Last was the Senior Chef of Legions; similar in responsibility to the Senior Chef of the Garrison, but with far more duties. She took a list of preferred foods from the Imperators and made menus out of them, then designed grand kitchens and great halls for their pleasure. She then distributed the tools and machines needed to make her designs, recipes, and menus to the Legions, then produced and billeted field rations to the legionaries.


    Naturally, their Uma- the Shark Tank- was first filled with offices for each of them. Then, with the factories they used to produce tools and machines to assist in their occupations. They oversaw the production of each item. Trained with and used them in their daily lives as they cooked increasingly larger portions and learned wider varieties of dishes. Some being unsettling, like the blood cuisine Zakira told them about. Simultaneously, they learned of the aspects of being a chef that often went untaught. They learned medicine and witchcraft, but focused solely on the digestive system and nutrients. They learned of magic and science to research ways to make newly uncovered foods or to determine the nutritional content of a meal or even prepare otherwise inedible ingredients. Then they used that knowledge to make more culinary tools and machines.


    Conversely, they studied the bardic and monastic arts in tandem. The former, to learn how best to present, serve, and entertain anyone from a dinner date to an army preparing for war. The latter to protect their kitchens without spoiling all the food from spells and collateral damage.


    That was only Sam''s specialty, though. Emily, from Shavew, specialized in witchcraft, medicine, and alchemy to create a drug industry for all things healing and euphoria. Her five specialized in differing methods of consumption, rather than types of effects: Edibles, Smokes, Drinkables, Injected drugs, and Infused drugs. With help from Wilson, Iris, Rickley, and Reina, she made drugs for the undead and augmented alike. Then, after making plans to create drug dealers out of locals, they began shipping drugs to the Legions and Eotrom- much like Chloala, the gnome from Shavew.


    Chloala''s pod took up retail and covered the black market. She named the former Davy Jones'' Locker and the latter the Black Pearl, then divided her 11 vice presidents accordingly. Finance. Production. Sales. Marketing. Development. Research. Logistics. Chief of Management. General Management. Local Management. Together, they made designs for shopping malls within the watery depths and black markets in every Uma, intending for both to sell everything sold in Eotrom, so long as the creator of said item agreed with the profit being split no less than 50-50, no higher than 25-75, as we did not work for money.


    By the end of our training, they were using the tech granted to them by Iris to oversee the store functions on the various networks. It had to be stated, however, that Redd''s Uma came before all of this; as did her stronghold shortly after our world was formed.


    Carved inside a mountain, Redd''s stronghold was where we all used the ritual Amun taught us to make our Umas- to be performed only when a matriarch was born. Her specialty originated from her speed, despite her power being ice. She could ride the currents of the ocean deep better than any of us. Because of that, she took up more roles than any of us. On one fin, she was the one who expanded our nautical territories. On the other fin, she constructed our structures in those territories. That included settlements for the Mafia, places of wandering for the Umas, and resource outposts for the Legions.


    As a result, she directed her group''s focus towards the industrial sector. Her pod, specifically, was a corporation with ties to marine construction, civil, and marine engineering, complete with a sister company centered on logistics and transportation- a front for her trafficking role in the Mafia. One meant to ferry people to and from our domains or anyone else outside the confines of the law. All while remaining within the bounds of consent.


    Like Sam, her 14 subordinates reflected that. Each of them was a foreman or worked in some role that found and founded new settlements. Whether she be in any of her three states of transformation or at the helm of her Uma, Redd would range the seas, leading a pack of two pods trailing closely behind her. A cartographer and a navigator, respectively, each trailed by a prospector and a settler.


    All others either remained with the group or remained inside the Uma. In either case, they would remain in place until they came to a suitable location. Then the foremen for the residential, industrial, commercial, and heavy civil industries banged heads with Redd to come up with a plan while the Plastic Worker, metalworker, and Mason went off with the Chief Miner prepare resources.


    Yet, like the rest of us, her group studied yet more crafts and designed the infrastructure to mimic them in our domain. And like the rest of us, she didn''t stop until it was time for us to awaken our cores and begin our initiation.

 349 - Meteor Wolf Pack

    Freki.


    ***


    It was strange. The sense of wholeness I felt upon stepping foot in that magnificent realm. Although, it would''ve been more accurate to say I returned. Yes, I returned to a long-lost home. A home I had forgotten. Yet one I knew my way around still. Even without following my nose, I could find the path to the world set within a world that was the Silverstream Forest.


    My sister, Geri, appeared there at the same moment we did. Geri, along with her winter wolves, and us, were stupefied in awe for hours before we gave chase to the vibrant stags darting across the land. Pulled by our bestial instincts, we hunted and ran beneath an oceanic expanse that stretched across the curved ceiling of Eotrom''s heart. Enduring the rains befalling us from the colossal orcas and dolphins breaching the heavenly sea above.


    In opposing directions, the winter and summer wolves ran, unknowingly beckoned by voices both familiar and foreign rather than our instincts. In our case, we followed the beckoning of the verdant fields and colossal forests at the equator, wherein a pack of canid behemoths stood in wait. The largest of them stood over nine meters tall. Yet every sneering snout in sight was of the same hue as the pelt strewn across my shoulders- the darkest black, with streaks of gold, purples, and reds around a snout large enough to engulf a horse.


    It was he, the largest and eldest, who spoke to us with reverence; announcing himself as the first son of Skoll, Lycaon. A Seasonal Wolf, as we were. It was him, one of my sons, who taught us about our pact with the Man Inside the Moon. It was he who made us remember the contract we made with him. The curse I received and passed on, and what that meant in the future.


    Wolves of the World Weaver came in many forms. There were the Lunar Wolves of Mani, the Spectral Wolves of the Cosmos, or the augmented wolves of Ilium and the Iris, as well as paragon wolves and their arcane variants; all divine creatures. All with mortal counterparts. The Seasonal Wolves, however, were different. Born from Skoll and Hati''s refusal to become divine, they instead became celestial. Canines of Summer and Autumn. Wolves of Winter and Spring. Packs of Meteors and Comets. World-hoppers. Gardeners and destroyers. Star and moon-chasers. Explorers and builders.


    Through Lycaon''s teachings, we learned the extent of our twin powers, Summer and Autumn.


    The power of summer was that of the high sun. The power of fire and heat. Of lightning and rain; maturity and flora. Of light.


    The power of autumn was that of the falling sun. The power of earth and cold. Of wind and drought; reaping and abundance. Of darkness.


    It was with those powers that we took our wise rocks and left the Silverstream forest. Again moving to opposing ends of the void around Mani to create our worlds. Worlds unlike any other, in the sense that they were large enough to be new systems entirely.


    At the core of ours was, of course, my world. A sphere of mostly gas that was so large in mass that its core generated heat and glowed red. Despite that, the Archives described it as a Brown Dwarf. Yet the output of light and heat was unlike any of those dwarves seen within said records; or Eotrom. My world shed enough light for ten agricultural planetary moons to thrive and for dozens, if not hundreds, of smaller moons to serve as our hunting grounds. Yet, it was not without structure. The core was a solid sphere of molten metal and volcanic stone that made fertile fields for our celestial prey and plateaus for our sprawling camps, wherein we smashed our brains together day in and day out to bring my dreams of agricultural dominance to fruition.


    Our training began after the formation of the first planetary moons. That was how eager we were to begin. Or rather, that was how avaricious we were.


    First came the crop moon, where everything from cereals and root crops to fruits, vegetables, and vineyards stretched to all horizons. Then came the moon of livestock, for every meat and dairy product one could imagine. Followed by the third, the moon of Mariculture, giving us seafood, shellfish, kelp, and more. When Amun arrived for our lessons, we wove a moon for industrial or commercial crops; oilseeds, fiber crops like faerie flax and cotton, tobacco, hemp, hops; an entire country of burnbud, as well as country-sized plots for rubber, sugarcane, and other aromatic, culinary, or medicinal herbs either gathered from afar or created by the others. Like olive trees.


    The first harvest came shortly after we wove the moon of lumber; complete with softwoods, hardwoods, magical lumber, and divine timber alike. So it was that I wove the moon of alcohol afterward. I filled its surface with farms like the first moon, but with the intent of turning each morsel into a drip of some kind in the caverns below ground. Whether it be ale, mead, wine, spirits, or even vinegar, didn''t matter. We would produce. We would provide for us, Eotrom, and beyond. The same was the case for the moon of Magical Crops. They brought many magical flowers, fruit, vegetable, or tree found below above to cultivate en masse; as was the dark moon, a seemingly dead sphere of vast caverns hosting exotic roots, moss, and many, many types of subterranean fungi.


    Our last moons were the only ones not woven for the sake of production. Their purpose was in processing and logistics; however, that was not to say their specialties were isolated. On the contrary, each moon had localized facilities sprawling deep underground. Or, in some cases, in orbit. For example, those on the processing moon took fruits, vegetables, and meat from the first moons to underground factories to be sliced, diced, or crushed into cans, bottles, or that strange plastic stuff while seeds and other vegetables were dried or crushed them into oils. The same as the textile crops being woven into fabrics or the tobacco and burnbud being dried and cured before being packaged in bulk.


    With the second to last moon, however, its role in processing went much further. Factories and production facilities spanned the moon from its core to the edge of its orbit. Many of them boasted undead trained in Sam''s kitchen to cook and prepare made-ready food in several methods; not just for the Legions, the Mafia, and Eotrom, but for wherever we made business. Therein lay the purpose of the furthest moon. The largest, by far. A slow-orbiting world filled with storage units, warehouses, rift ports, and freight yards. It came into operation shortly before the end of our first year. But of course, we never ceased training throughout this time.


    In the deepest hours of the morning, Lycaon would teach us to temper our rage, master our transformations, and hone our senses to their fullest. In time, we grew to transition seamlessly between our forms and use our latent powers with ease, quickening the combat lessons imposed by Etan upon his arrival at dawn. But not the ones given by Amun upon his departure.


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    While his clone was always present, Amun''s voice seemed to always echo in my mind. Bringing with it visions and revelations that shattered my perceptions to dust. At other times, a bumbling head with floating metal arms appeared to speak on his behalf. On yet more occasions, a skeleton or shadow would arrive to teach us the basics of some skill or impart some wisdom, coupled with historical knowledge from Amun''s first life.


    Over the first few months, we learned arithmetics and gained literacy in several languages through instruction. The dwarven tongue and their Darkworld variants. The language of the elves, and of drow, including their hand codes. We learned the goblin, orc, and halfling tongues and the Draconic dialects. And through the teachings of Lycaon and later, Reina, we learned enough of the sacred druidic arts to communicate with the creatures of Mani and make the most of our sorcery.


    The way the lessons would transition at some point in the day went unnoticed by us. It would just happen. We would be doing one thing and find ourselves studying our occupations the next. Learning the many ways in which food could be grown. Agriculture, aeroponics, hydroponics, aquaponics, horticulture, botany. And of permaculture, ranching, brewing, dairy processing, and virtually everything else that revolved around growing, hunting, foraging, processing, and storing food. On and on until dusk came, wherein Etan returned to fight. Yet, the day was not complete when he melded into the distance, for an undead would come to take his place. The most hated face of my undead mother. My Umbra Emperor, known only as the Ice Queen of Shujen.


    To me, she would speak about the dark plains of existence. The Shadow Realm, the Underworld, the Darkworld, and the Void. She spoke to me about life and death. Of the hubris, pride, and greed that consumed the minds of so many mortals- of mortals like her.


    She showed me what happened once a mortal life came to an end. In turn, I saw the insignificance of all the rage, pain, and suffering mortals so often experienced in their lives. By witnessing the futility of chasing mental obsessions bodily pleasures- the never-ending cycle of want that often gave rise to the Culture- she helped me understand the significance of living for myself. To simply live, not for wealth, exotic bed partners, or fame, but for inner peace. She showed me how and, more importantly, why to live for the simple fulfillment of the soul. I stepped into a state of enlightenment.  And in doing so, I opened the doors to studies of the unimaginable.


    We learned advanced mathematics, science, and art to such a degree that we gained dominion over plants without magic. With those capabilities merged with our magic, we modified existing plant species or spliced different ones together to create a specific outcome, then used that knowledge to increase yields and keep the soil of our worlds healthy. Or to improve the soil of dead worlds.


    Complex and confusing, these things were in their own right. But not as confusing as the study of magic and mana. The numbers and concepts he imposed on us were difficult at first. But through experiment and observations- through testing and retesting- they could be reconciled with. But the unpredictability of magic and the volatile nature of mana were different. With it, I could protect myself from harm. I could bend nature to my will. I could even walk and run freely through the air. All things I had gotten used to with the enchanted clothes provided to me. However, mastering the techniques using my power proved quite an arduous task. Still, we were up for the challenge and indeed enjoyed it. At least until the lessons grew more abstract and varied come the second year.


    As we did with them, the Troupe came to our system to impart knowledge and teach us skills. Of course, others were already present. Namely Amun and Etan, who respectively taught us the art of enchanting and developed a unique fighting style for our pack; mostly by introducing us to the lifestyle of knights and their ways of combat, but with aspects of other classes as well.


    Iris was the first of them to appear from afar, however, arriving with lessons on agricultural technology. Tractors, harvesters, milking units, and a million other machines for the harvest. Additionally, she built machines within us, giving us control of the ever-increasing array of technology in ways we could have never believed.


    It was then that I got a taste of madness, for each new visitor required us to remodel and re-fabricate our fleets into something more.


    The Winter Wolves appeared just after Iris departed. From them, we learned how to create high-powered motors and engines. Then learned to fabricate a chassis, a suspension, a transmission, and all the other parts of an autonomous wagon before we repeated the process for the air and sea. Soon enough, we were creating vehicles that could compete with Geri''s. Not that we needed to, however. Speed was their specialty. But our mastery of creating vehicles coupled with our profession made for a preferred style of vehicle unseen among the Troupe- but not Amun. So, when the others arrived to help us create our Umas, they were surprised to see our designs lying in wait beside our celestial cadavers. Yet, they took no time getting to work, teaching us how to do the work ourselves.


    The work yielded 57 wolf-shaped trains of varying sizes. Or perhaps 57 train-shaped wolves. In either case, they traveled through the land, air, and water on smoldering rails and used smoke to slip through space. Trains unlike any other, boasting a locomotive, freight car, residential car, industrial car, and more packed into a single 40-meter-long caboose.


    With Blude''s help, we filled parts of them with offices, guest suites, and rest facilities while we took culinary lessons from Sam and made our own ranges and other kitchen hardware. Then, my sister returned. If only to teach us how to build hangars and maintenance bays within our vehicles while Redd taught us how to build cities in the lands we found afar.


    Wilson. Leary. Reina. Iris once more. They all arrived to teach us their crafts and guide us in creating more facilities on our worlds and in our vehicles. We learned of the chemicals and nutrients plants and animals depended on and were taught what to look for if any certain thing received too much or too little of some other thing that would result in a lower state of health. The lessons continued with us learning how to make fertilizer or nutrient mists to support or sustain crops. We created recycling centers for bone, discarded flesh, and inorganic trash. Moreover, we set up freight lines between the industries of those latter three, giving them the means to make marvels out of our garbage. In doing so, we learned more about medicine and witchcraft, gaining the capacity to use our abundant herbs to their utmost potential.


    Rickley arrived at the end of that second year to teach us about controlled decomposition, poisonous crops, and entertainment; and to assist my bards in creating theaters and hidden cairns within their circuses or speakeasies. In turn, she became infatuated with the Fruitful Four''s Bardic Schools of Revelry, Bar keeping, Circuses, and Advertisement.


    Etan and Amun began spending more time with the pack at the start of the third and final year. First, to assist us in constructing training halls, mental clinics, temples, and engineering workshops brimming with arcane energy. Then to fight.


    Ceaselessly. We warred across worlds to the death. We warred over the stars to the bitter end. We trained and developed ourselves into paragons using the favored killing tool of our God. The humble spear. We studied the art of war and ourselves, honing our proficiencies with our natural and chosen weapons. Claws and maw, and in my case, a meteor-ball and scalding chain. For what felt like eons, we''d war without the aid of magic or even rage, down on Etan''s accursed world. Through that, we improved until we became meteors of destruction ourselves.


    In reality, however, it was only a year. A single year of endless strife. That was what it took to build the foundation for what would become the Black Wolf Brigade. But before that foundation was to be built upon, there was one final thing to do- awaken our affinity cores.

 350 - Winter Wolf Conclave

    Geri.


    ***


    Three years.


    Our charge was three years in our home. Three years in the Silverstream Forest. Three years in our distant world. The longest and shortest three years of my existence.


    Our existence.


    My pack was small. Composed entirely of Chorian residents. Former residents.


    Katheryn was a human who appeared like a run-of-the-mill winter wolf when transformed. She was currently in attendance at the Bardic School of Announcing for the sake of bringing life to the many recordings of fantastic fights hidden in the Archives. Lemeia was also a bard, but a Strifling with blue-black fur and horns that seemed to mirror her ears. A Show Host, she was. Although she gave no hints as to what type of shows she''d be hosting.


    Rhonda was also a human. But one with gray-blue tones to her fur coat that seemed to stand on end, always. She was on the path to becoming an artificer, like Ed. Specializing in mechanical engineering to make ludicrously fast vehicles for the mountains, tundra, and taiga. Penny was a dwarf; also an artificer in training but with the intent of becoming an architectural engineer. More like a squat mastiff than a wolf was her appearance. Or, if a wolf, a short and stout one with a braided ''beard'' hanging from her frowning snout.


    Norsh was a halfling. A corgi-like wolf with blue and white markings that truly made one think she was one of the stout-legged pups. She didn''t even have a tail. A boon, in her eyes, as she was a pilot who devoted her all to merging the likeness of a fighter and an artificer in quite a unique way. Lula, a deep gnome and a bard in the School of Sponsorship, appeared as a wolf-like dog that stood nearly as tall as Norsh. Her fur, however, was a deep black with white tones paired with ice-white eyes without pupils. Strangely of all, her tail was the fluffiest and was permanently curled inwards to form a loop atop her bum. A Shiba, according to Amun.


    And then there was me. A big-ass winter wolf. The matriarch of the Winter Wolf Conclave. Like Blude and my brother, I led us to Amun''s home to reunite with our children. A place I both knew and knew not existed.


    Hidden in plain sight within the second sun- as the denizens of the surface called it- existed Eotrom. A mirror to the mortal realm. Tucked within that mirror realm was a mirror of the first world outside, complete with the same name. Mani. A layered world, it was, wherein a forest of silver sat beneath the barren surface. And more sat within that silvery expanse.


    There, in the Silverstream Forest, we received the same lessons as my brother in both flesh and spirit, taught by a different celestial wolf. Lycaon was the name of his spirit''s first son. The name of my first daughter was Lupa. A wolf of colossal proportions with fur whiter than snow could ever hope to be.


    Despite being separated from the summer wolves, we still had to confront the beasts inside us in a similar way. Amun, Etan, Lupa, and sometimes Doyle trained us with their minds rather than their hands, making us come to terms with our dual natures; our twin powers.


    The power of winter was of wood and sterility; dying and stagnation. Of the moon. Ice. Despair.


    The power of spring was of flowers and fertility; youth and growth. Of the dawn. Air. Hope.


    It didn''t take long to realize the extent of our new lives after that. Mastering them, however, was another matter entirely. We did so in my world. Brigid. An orb with a floral band of deep dales and winding rivers around its midsection, capped with glacial fields, boreal forests, treacherous tundra, and frozen mountains. That was where we lived. That was where we hunted. Played. Trained and eventually warred against Amun, Etan, and sometimes Doyle. And when we weren''t, we were on our scattered moons, woven for every purpose and pleasure imaginable. Except living.


    Like everyone else, we received the ArcaTech''s blessing to assist us in learning, and yet still took months to become the experts in our chosen fields Amun demanded of us. Science, Technology, Reading, and Writing. Engineering. Art. Mathematics and magic. A bit of history and a lot of philosophy from both his native world and ours. Like everyone else, we then spent months upon months on our mechanical moon, developing skill after skill. Far more skills than our summer and autumnal counterparts.


    While they learned how to build and operate those large and lumbering tractors and trains, we remained on our first mechanical moon, wherein we became enraptured evermore with the vehicles created by Ed. We studied and toiled to learn how to operate, maintain, and fabricate them, adapting them to scream through the land, skies, and seas at ludicrous speeds, for we were rangers, and there was no place we couldn''t traverse. We were rangers unlike any other, celestial or not, unburdened by distance through virtue of the fueled, magical, arcane, and celestial vehicles we created on our Blue Moon.


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    In turn, that formed my chosen industry; Aerospace Engineering. That created the Blue Steel Motor Company and Blue Peak Aerospace Industries, and then that prompted the creation of our second mechanical moon, wherein we melded our craft and our knowledge of ranging with our lessons in witchcraft just like the summer wolves were doing with their herbs. With Iris'' help, we installed sensors and scanners in our vehicles to target, track, and assess the injured from afar. With Reina and Rickley''s help, we installed facilities that could treat the worst of wounds whilst keeping them in a serene state of mind. When combined, we practiced rescuing trauma patients from extremely hazardous environments with the utmost haste.


    When combined, we solved the age-old problem associated with witches relocating their patients by creating a unit of first responders. Celestial First Responders with bestial natures.


    Even after Katheryn took over the Spring Witch Comet Service and its home moon, Swicks, we forged on. We took our skills and wove a third mechanical moon. Not for the sake of industry or witchcraft, but for the sake of fun. We took it upon ourselves to learn how to build supportive infrastructure on the prior moon, if only to build continent-spanning racetracks and circuits on the new moon, Squeal. In this, we adopted a mirrored industrial role to the likes of Ed, wherein we constructed icy roads, wooden racing tracks, sky circuits, and waterways for both business and recreational purposes; for both Eotrom and the Mortal Plane.


    So it was. We went on our paws, our ground vehicles, through the air, and across the water, racing; mastering the use of our creations to save those worth saving and kill those worth killing; pushing the limits of celestial engineering further and further until we eventually created the first fleet of super and then hypersonic craft.


    In turn, Lemeia and Katheryn organized, hosted, announced, and broadcasted the debut of the Winter Wolf Racing League to the ManaNet with a celebratory race. Then, we got back to work. We had completed our professional tasks halfway through our charge. Thus, we turned our snouts towards our arcane moon to fulfill the supportive duties for ourselves, the Legions, and the Troupe.


    Dubbed Castle Wintercrest- or simply Wintercrest- our first arcane moon was an operator school and licensing center run by the mind of Norsh. It was the first of its kind. Not a course to learn the basics or even the advanced methods of vehicle operation akin to the ones organized by Imperators Ed and Duke. It was a course for the extreme aspects of vehicle operation; how to build them, how to maintain and repair them, and most importantly, how to operate them in the most dangerous environments imaginable. To that end, we made a copy of our racing moon and filled it in its entirety with so-called Catastrophic Arcane Territories. Raging seas with constant vortexes and grand waterfalls spewing from midair. Burning badlands with constant earthquakes and sandstorms for clouds. Chocking forests with floating flora and living lakes. We tailored every vehicle in our fleet to fit every imaginable biome and scaled them to operate within every level of danger one could think of.


    Through this, we and the Troupe became experts in creating and using the locomotive tools provided by the Legions; moreover, it gave us the industrial prowess needed to produce them en mass and distribute them to the Legions and beyond. To that end, we made a sister moon to the Blue Moon and automated them both, relegating the first to a world of research and development, while this one, Hora, became our primary manufacturing and distribution center.


    The time for our last world to be woven came by the start of the final year of our charge. The ArcaTech''s essence linked it to the aforementioned moon infused inside its core. But not for the sake of manufacturing. It was for our roles within the Legion.


    Though we would later learn our combat roles within the Elven Devil''s Troupe, we knew our non-combative roles in both warfare and peacetime. Thus, we began training for it in earnest. The job was simple. We were rangers. We roamed the fringes of society, acting as scouts, deterrents, or even spies. Our job, in short, was reconnaissance. Therein lay the purpose of our final moon, Eiar. A mountain-sized celestial body turned into an extension of our minds, thanks to Iris.


    The result was a communal mind shared by my conclave. A tap of information, sights, smells, and sounds we could drink from and, in turn, connect us to Simion and the three networks. A world of sensors, transmitters, receivers, and other devices linked to us and our equipment for a sole purpose. Cartography.


    Our moon, coupled with the scattered Legions'' data, Iris'' game, and the Map function of the various networks, showed not just the Legion-explored realms in real-time. It showed the territories of those who called it home. It showed their relations with each other; their opinions of the Legions, their rulers, and their laws; cultures and languages; imports and exports; supplies and demands; their prowess with technology and magic. The resources and creatures found within. Everything we could gather information on.


    Since Lula''s bardic specialty was sponsorship, she fit perfectly in the moon''s core, where she scanned the peninsula from shore to shore in search of potential racers, legionaries, winter wolves, enemies, allies, or any such thing to sponsor- giving rapt attention to and narrating their actions as seen by the satellites.


    By the blessings of our God and the power born within us, we accomplished these tasks and exceeded the expectations set before us. More so, we excelled at our art. Yet, there was one task left to master. One thing left to train for.


    War.

 351 - Childhood Inverted

    Wilson Koorb.


    ***


    "My name is Wilson Koorb. I know not the day nor the hour of my entry. Nor how I am even entering it when time has become so meaningless.


    "I- we are not like the others. Though most of us have met him directly, me, Reina, and Leary are ignorant. Ignorant of Amun; of his ways; his power. Ignorant of his realm. That, and we are cursed. Blessedly so. So it is that I find myself struggling to come to terms with the nature of Eotrom. The nature of worlds. Planets. And so it is that I''ve come to learn we accursed four will not be weaving worlds in the expanse. At least not initially.


    "The first thing I did when I arrived in the depths of Amun''s world was walk. I knew the huts and structures found throughout were laboratories and factories. I knew the others spread across the ceiling were sealed agricultural centers or places of power. But my curiosity got the best of me. I walked, and the land seemed never-ending. I walked. And then I came upon the place I started, wherein I realized this cavern curved in on itself like a sphere. Everything sat on top of this curved land, neatly like buildings standing atop the surface of a colossal ball. A ball with a similarly curved ceiling.


    "That was maddening enough. But then the undead came out to attack. I thought they turned on me, at first. But then I realized. That is my training. I am Amun''s traveling companion. And Amun is lazy. He will not wait for me to catch up, nor will he fight for me. Not that I want him to. So, the only choice was to dip my nose and dive into it headfirst- into developing this youthful body into a vessel that could excel at my job without aid.


    "And what a job that is."


    ¡ª¡ª


    My job as the Eldritch Engineer was simple. I was the wicked version of the Legio Noctis'' Master Chief Engineer, Sir Edward Pascal, the Uplifter of Bakewia. He was to build machinations for the living. I was humbled by the responsibility of crafting machinations for the undying and the fiend. But that was beside the point. My job was simple. But claiming the title of Eldritch Engineer was anything but.


    My first task was to make the most out of my youth by spending four unceasing years practicing the arts of engineering and science while I mastered crafts- nearly every craft imaginable- all so that I could place myself on the path to becoming a Grandmaster Artificer; though that was not my true aim. Moreover, that was only the beginning of my charge.


    I could not hunger, tire, or fear. And so it was that my initial days began with the hunt. Big game or small rodents, it did not matter. I hunted, trapped, or caught a creature. Butchered it down and processed the flesh and hide into bait and leathers before making jewelry or weapons from the bone and alchemical ingredients from the organs. I spent the remaining hours of those days cutting stone, making pots, carving wood, smelting ore, or distilling liquids. And once I filled a small warehouse with each of said products, I turned to blowing glass, masonry, painting, engraving, carpentry, metallurgy; as well as painting, carving, drawing, and gem cutting.


    Throughout that time, I never stopped fighting. Not against the undead. Not against Etan. Every resource I used had to be fought for to be found. I had to fight to extract them, fight to bring them to my lab and fight after I consumed them. To this day, I know not if they organized the attacks or simply played off of one another''s actions. But my hypothesis remained the latter throughout the years. Regardless, the lessons matured once more within a few months. Within this curved realm- my occupational domain, I was made to connect my warehouses to factories with undead-manned production lines to automate the manufacturing process of my brews and toys.


    Several months more and those factories were towering cities of dynamic steel that spanned my domain like vast belts. Hundreds of armaments, armor, and equipment imbued with the foul energies of the dark planes were pumped out to the Legion''s ever-increasing undead by the day; and those numbers only increased by the tenday, all approved, stamped, and signed by the Eldritch Engineer, Wilson Koorb.


    My God, my Patron, my Devil, and more were with me at each step of the way to grant blessings and boons that mimicked the ones given by the class. The Artificer''s Cookbook. Audit. Appraisal. Locate Possession. Identify, Prospect, Extract, and more; up to the Alchemist''s Cookbook and the Alchemical Eye. While there was a similar function for the Cookbooks and similar skills within the VoidNet, that was a ''read-only'' function born from the shared knowledge of the Legion''s artificers. If one of our artificers audited, appraised, or handled something, the rest of the Legions would know about it immediately. But only these boons or those perks would allow them to use those materials freely.


    So it was. Those boons granted me the ability to bring my factories to a new level. Yet, that wasn''t the breadth of my tenure. Whenever I wasn''t tinkering or fighting, I was enthralled with lessons on anatomy and biology dropping me deep into the realm of medicinal witchcraft. To that end, I was granted several skeletons and zombies to aid me in my work. Plus several more to tinker with as I pleased. Following Amun''s guidance, I had them oversee my factories and labs and sent more to manage the distribution of my goods to the Legions'' undead and the dead city of Shujen. Weapons, armor, clothes, and jewelry of the basic and non-magical varieties to distinguish themselves as individuals. And to remain hygienic and presentable.


    Much was accomplished in those first few years. Yet it would pale in comparison to what came after.


    While Etan''s lessons continued in complexity and intensity, Amun''s lessons grew¡­ darker. When at first his lessons revolved around the art of enchanting and how it pertained to engineering, they later turned into the same necrotic lessons the great Necro King imparted to him. Yet he still taught me the other things. Witchcraft, and how medicine could kill mortals in ways that made for better undead; artificing, and of the many types of technology he created for his Legions. Additionally, the Book of Madness saw fit to bring me deeper into the Shadow Realm to teach me more about the many undead phenotypes each night. I then made entries in the tome every day, creating designs for dying mortals and the souls in wait for a new vessel. That led me to spend years combining my existing knowledge of alchemy with my newfound knowledge of biology and engineering and then imbuing that knowledge with the arcane text carved into the Book of Madness to fashion arcane machinations into dead and fiendish flesh alike.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    When this body was nine, the likes of Leary, Reina, Rickley, and Iris visited me. Not only to share knowledge, but to allow me to study their undying or, in Iris'' case, augmented physiologies. And how amazing those were. We were all blessed in body and mind, but to highly varying degrees.


    The wonder child, Amun''s adopted daughter, was a being of metal, ceramic, and exotic materials, inside out and from head to toe. Contrary to her appearance, not a single biological cell remained in her body. Her procedure saw her cells divide as they normally would, albeit with different instructions to make her organs out of the divine materials born on Ilium, turning the entirety of her body into a perfect machine. Her brain was a massive computing crystal of wrinkly blue diamond- A data diamond. She could eat organics and inorganic substances alike, turning the former into super-fuel- Vehsipane- and the latter into mutations, essentially. And yet, Iris was not cursed. At least, not in the same way as us.


    Leary was cursed. But so too was he blessed in body and mind plus spirit to become a Goblin Paragon. Even without his augmentations, he stood around 1.5 meters tall. His hands, head, and feet were more proportioned, making him more¡­ manly, complete with a widow''s peak of straight black hair. But his ears were still big and rat like, and his eyes were still piss-yellow. That aside, he too was perfect in all regards. The affinities of the Legions'' founders and the bone magic of Amun''s father were infused into his augmented ArcaTech skeleton. Thus, he received no work from my hand. He and Iris were only studied. Or, as Amun called it, ''reverse engineered.''


    It was much the same in Rickley''s case. Her throat and chest had been augmented with NecroTech before we had ever met her. Her lungs were remade to contain Vac-Gas, which fed the pressure-less gas to compressors and nozzles within her throat. Thus enabling her to contain a nigh-infinite volume of gas within her lungs and eject them with substantial force. When coupled with her Volterum heart and the speakers implanted in her voice box, it made for a walking loudspeaker paired with a voice modulator. To top everything off, her scalp was grafted with Noxweave hair follicles that naturally grew into Dimensionite and Biogold-tipped locks. Allowing her to use her hair as wires and cables for her various instruments. That, however, was simply a foundation for me to work on. Moreover, it served as my first practical use of DivineTech; and what I made for her was special.


    Teeth.


    Teeth, made of the adamantine that could change its form at will, further infused with different magical affinities to let her reform her teeth into whistles, hoses, and nozzles that spewed toxic gasses, fire, acid, oil, or any other fluid onto her victims.


    In Reina''s case, Amun repaired her broken skeleton using Cursed ArborTech, made from the wood of divine trees- the Bodhi Tree, and the tree in Eotrom. As such, she could make her skeletal structure rigid like wood or fluid like vines at will. That alone gave her more potential than even Leary, I was sure. However, she still received several augmentations to her body. Namely, her skin.


    She looked absolutely horrid when she appeared before us. Her brain was exposed and bits of her skin appeared petrified. The first she claimed to have dealt with on her own, while much of the latter was cleaned up by Blude. But I made her complete. From stronger skin and arcane organs to magic-infused glands in her fingertips that could deposit different energies into her cysts to make them flammable, poisonous, caustic, or whatever other things she infused in them afterward.


    And then there was me. A boy with a non-ferrous adamantine skeleton infused with the essence of the ArcaTech to grant me supreme control over technology. Blessed in the sense that I not only had a few potions in perpetual effect. But in the sense that I''d been granted the power to make more. Yet, I was cursed.


    With this skeleton so magnificent, I could not consume potions that changed my skeletal structure. Or, if I did, they would have no effect. Still, however, potions that affected my flesh remained on the table. Not to mention I could still create permanent potions for others. Permanent in the sense that the effect would remain until they consumed the universal ''antidote.'' With that, I took to making designs for my body. A repeating crossbow in my inner forearm, capable of retracting into what appeared to be a metal prosthetic arm. The same as the foldout shield on the outer edge of the same forearm. Other than elemental enchantments in each knuckle and retractable blades in the fingers of my skeletal hand, the only other change to my body came as scars.


    Stretching from my hips to my armpits were scars. Semi-sealed scars that could be peeled open to unseal my two pocket dimensions. One led to my Pit of Madness, wherein Bom and my growing army of undead sat in wait with my tools of war. The other led to my Pit of Darkness, wherein my alchemical equipment and toys remained in storage.


    I made these things for us, yet the work continued, for tinkering with the Undying Fiends was but a test. And with that test complete, the following task was to enter Amun''s Underworld.


    Within the Shade Palace, I formalized the undead''s education. In Zaraxus'' castle, I established facilities to create the Umbra Emperors, Gloom Sovereigns, Doom Monarchs, Dread Nobles, and Horror Knights for the Legions'' founding members. Dozens upon dozens of them, unto the hundreds. Of them all, eleven had the privilege of having a template to become something more. Sages, the lot of them. Of the undying tempest and the spirit of divine beasts. The heart of the machine. Barbaric paladins and Noctis Valkyries. A sage of philosophy and sages of faith. Dark sages of similar realms and sages who dwelled in fluids.


    By the time this body was thirteen, that task was complete for both them and me. I had skeletons wreathed in crackling violet flames, commanded by zombies with crystalline bones and mutated flesh accompanying me as I practiced and researched. Not within the hidden layers of Amun''s domain, but within the caverns of my smog-filled world. I studied in both my job and the jobs of the others; in turn, I created jobs for myself and my undying companions; plus those who had yet to come.


    With my immense inventory of nefarious and wicked equipment, it was only natural for me to put it up for sale in Eotrom and the Legions. To that end, I created the Rogues'' Gallery for those who claimed such a title; where poisons, acids, traps- any nefarious thing for any nefarious deed could purchased en masse. Just as it was for warlocks with magical, cursed, or tainted items at the Eldritch Bazaar.


    I only pursued those ends for half of my sleepless days, however. The other half was pure hell, for I was fighting the empowered, arcane, and highly intelligent undead of my creation. And they knew I could not die so easily. Moreover, they used the technology and machines created by the others to push this body far beyond its limits. I was broken every day and healed immediately to resume the fight; developing the skills needed to become a slayer of mages


    Yet, claiming that title would come later.

 352 - Tragic Trades

    Rickley Ravenbrook.


    ***


    My time in Eotrom was by far the easiest. Not to say I didn''t work hard. Because hard, I worked.


    I learned to fight, like everyone else. From Etan and the undead, like everyone else. Like everyone else, I shared my knowledge with the troupe and took knowledge from them. I learned to engineer and to artifice. Witchcraft and medicine. Magic and science. Just like everyone else. Unlike everyone else, I enjoyed my first sabbatical in the realm to the utmost degree. For, unlike everyone else, I remained entertained.


    Amun shared many things with us. One thing that often went ignored was the glorious vaults of entertainment wealth hidden within the various networks. Songs and styles and recorded plays that were not of this universe. Music. Movies. Radio. Television. Video games. But music, that was above them all. There were so many genres that I had to listen to them without pause. No matter if I was training, learning, or resting, I lost myself in those exotic soundscapes. So, of course, the first thing I did was devote my time towards creating, and then learning how to play those exotic instruments in all those eccentric styles. If only to blend them with my charm to fill a gaping niche in the realm of entertainment in this universe.


    Passing. Requiems. Funerals.


    My niche was that of a revelry meant to celebrate one''s life at its end, giving their soul a beautiful sendoff to whatever awaited them in the afterlife; should they deserve it. Eotrom or Amun''s underworld, their destinations would be, if sung by the likes of me. An Undying Fiend of the Devil of the Fae as his Soul Singer. A marker of souls. A bard for the dead. Through him, I got what I always wanted- magical art. But only skeletons and zombies and vampires and ghosts could dance to the rhythm of my tunes. The horrid scratch of my fiddle made most mortals tremble in fear. All the merrier for me. So merry as to almost demand I capitalize on it. So, I did.


    I first used the NoxNet to learn of the Troupe''s musical preferences, starting with Amun, something that wound up being a grim and macabre style of orchestral music infused with improvised jazz and heavy bass. I found it delightfully dreadful and became even more delighted to have the growing undead orchestra and spectral chorus bestowed on me. Ever present were they in my domain, playing and signing for the satellites in constant observation, broadcasting their pieces to Eotrom and the realms below. Through them and the networks, I learned that each commander of the Legio Noctis had a profile that documented their histories, feats, and accomplishments through visual and audible interfaces narrated by the Bard and Lore Master of the Noctis, Willard Rowe. And those same recordings, more or less, were also commentated by Ritrix Mildbluff, the Comedic Bard who founded the Laughing Houses.


    I smirked in remembrance of her reaction to my failed attempt at the art and decided to add a new macabre mix to their profiles, composed entirely by me. It took months to study their fighting styles and more, analyzing the dying moments of those who opposed them. I then fused that intel with my newfound knowledge and added it to their profiles on the Net. Not to entertain or commentate for any viewing from afar. My music was to echo across the battlefield, giving the legionary confidence; and making their opponents cower in fear.


    Or, as Amun put it, I made them Boss Music.


    With that done, I continued conducting concert after silent concert, studying my art further, growing enamored with the prospect of traveling the lands unceasingly, for I would certainly become famous overnight. And if I didn''t, infamy was fine by me.


    All my time wasn''t spent playing, however, for my crafts and boons naturally influenced my occupational specialties, my military role, and my businesses. I was to be an organizer of funerals, thus it would only make sense to fill the other roles involved with the dead and dying. Thus, I studied construction, recreation, and the culinary arts from the Mafia to ease the suffering of those passing. Then I studied specific fields of medicine and witchcraft to learn how to determine the cause of death. I then learned how magic and science could preserve the dead and prepare them for burial, or necromantic practices in various ways; everything from cremation to mummification, I learned and mastered. And later, I applied that knowledge with artificing to create arcane urns, unholy burial chambers, and wicked sarcophagi; thus giving birth to the Ravenbrook Mortuary.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    So it was, that my education grew to encompass the field of civil engineering; if only to use that knowledge to design mirror towns, pocket cities, and hidden homes in all places, rural and urban, for the fiendishly deadly; hidden and accessed via the hospice care centers and mortuaries I was to build across the realms, wherein I would use the necrotic powers bestowed unto me to pry and probe into the memories of the deceased. Not only to make my events that much more accurate. But to establish and maintain a team of private investigators and spies, Rickley''s P.I''s.


    Simultaneously, I delved more into my fiendish side by creating a record company. A place where often-shitty bards could sell their souls away to me for better skills and more profits. Much in the same way I had done with Amun, in a sense. In turn, that company had a dark mirror. A shop much like Buke''s Bazaar, albeit for the sake of the fiendish. Thus, I had yet another craft to master- Fencing.


    A fiendish fencer, I became. An appraiser and buyer with much gold to spend for the items so often stained with blood. A patron for the nefarious, unbounded by death, much less by laws. A giver of materials for the Eldritch Engineer. Most of the time. They all blended; my occupational specialties, my businesses, and my role as the bard of the Elven Devil''s Troupe. Of course, I was a Legionary first, however. A combatant. An explorer. Thus, I trained extensively. But more than just the martial arts, I learned how to use my size to my advantage. That meant charming people; deceiving and manipulating them. That meant sneaking through crawlspaces and tunnels or hiding in plain sight to attack in places that would deal extensive damage.


    That meant rogue things.


    Above all, that meant gathering and spreading information to sway public opinion about Amun, the Troupe, the Legions, and Eotrom, for the pen and spoken word were to be my most-used weapons of war. The most important aspect of my role. For, more than being a bard, my job as the Eldest Grave Keeper was to ensure the people of the realms didn''t see us in an evil light.


    Bad, undoubtedly so. But not evil. Not entirely.


    I was to ensure good relations- nay; I was to be the bridge between the military and civilian sides of our territories in both a foreign and a domestic sense. That brought about the necessity of mock interviews or diplomatic meetings paired with guidance in becoming a personality that could appease the masses in a way that would make my exotically beautiful appearance part of my charm. It was but one way the masses would become desensitized to those of us who were walking cadavers made passable. But that was simply an added boon to the true goal of the role- to prevent needless war. And so I conceptualized my Grave Keepers. A band of elite, undying spies that would be buried across graves and cemeteries alike, wherein they would remain buried throughout the day and rise every night to sow the seeds of peace.


    My time in Eotrom was among the shortest in the Troupe. Only a year and some change. No matter if it seemed longer than that, it was pale in comparison to some others. Yet, I learned just as much as the rest of them. And continued learning even after I met the end of my long task list.


    In my last few months in that realm, I wove my acoustic world of crypts and familiarized myself with the upgrades Iris gave me, the changes Wilson made to my teeth, and the augmentations I reported with. In a way, that was accomplished by repeating many of the tasks I''d already done. I connected my entire being to the three networks, granting me remote control of everything I''d built thus far. I created a new line of enchanted and magical instruments, then used them to remaster the boss music I made for the Legionaries to create a third variant to the many commentaries of battle.


    As Willard Rowe detailed the names of spells, armor, and weapons of both ally and enemy; as Ritrix made jokes and comedic sound effects at everyone''s expense, I narrated the effect of the efforts of both fighters without bias. Rather than give the name and history of an attack or describe its function, I had my most eloquent undead give details about the damage inflicted on both the recipient and the environment for the sake of education. Live autopsies, in a way. A perspective that wound up being an instant hit and thus recycled in every activity or action. Without the morbidity, of course.


    All things; the mundane, such as hiking, cooking, farming, or gardening; the exciting, like rock climbing, exploring, and fighting; magical practice; arts and crafts; all across Eotrom and all across the peninsula, recordings and reels appeared on the net. Posted by nameless souls seeking to spread their knowledge to countless other nameless souls.


    And so it was that I capitalized on that as well, creating what would one day be known as RickTube before I was summoned to enter the Darkroom.

 353 - Pestilential Flesh

    Reina Featherfall.


    ***


    A wonderful domain awaited me when I was transported away from the others. But I could not look at it. Not with the Elder Druid perched before me, appearing much younger and more feathered than she did in life. Yet, she retained every aspect of her long life. The ones that mattered, at least.


    Her shell and her persona remained, but her innards were cast to the Under, enabling her spirit and soul to return to what was now before me. My Umbra Empress, accompanied by my baleful parents- undead shadows in their infancy and thus incapable of speech. The true blessing behind my curse. For now.


    Regardless, they and the Elder Druid- I''ve elected to call her Myra- were my teachers. Alongside the others, of course. But unlike Etan, Iris, or anyone else''s training, Myra began explicating the druidic arts that arose from my accursed blessing the moment I stepped foot in that wonderful place.


    My blessing for the druidic arts, granted by the Owl, made me the Eldest Druid of Twilight. It was the same ability that birthed the miracle in the blighted woods, wherein violet, orange, and yellow flowers bloomed beneath the gilded rays of twilight. The darkened light birthed flora that fed off of pestilence and pollution. Their oft-leafless branches breathed smog and smoke while their roots absorbed toxins, turning them into sweet-scented flowers and spicy fruits that bloomed and ripened twice per day.


    Those fruits, I came to learn, had strong psychedelic effects at most and mild euphoric effects at least, each lasting half a day. But, like everything concerning the Devil of the Fae, there were two sides to that leaf, for the primary power of twilight revolved around duality. As enlightening as those fruits were, they bore the risk of madness. And that was something we Undying Fiends were sensitive to.


    Thus, I bit into that flesh as happily as I would any other time. But¡­ how different that fruit seemed to taste. Spicier or¡­ I couldn''t quite put my finger on it. So I ate and ate more. And when I ran out, I searched and ate until my head began to pang and fan away to the skies, leaving a satiated husk dancing in a field of shifting lines and angular shapes that poured soundless words into the abyss.


    I saw through those shifting shapes¡­ everything, for I was all, and all was me. As small as the smallest things could be, I was. But smaller. So small I could stand before a towering wall made of the most archaic objects in the universe- insignificant blocks stacked in aberrant ways to make transparent blobs within larger blobs of various colors and shapes. They were eating. Secreting. Feeding atop the wall. And outside the wall; I could see that too. A sea of emptiness, wherein more blobs or colonies of them swam and wiggled for the sake of the hunt. Ceaselessly.


    I felt through my dancing vessel¡­ It- that which could not be described. Somehow, I gazed upon the wall and could feel It. And after reaching out; I felt It. Them. The Mother of Nature''s first children, small and big. Blobs. Microbes. Creatures so small they could not be seen, yet wielding the strength to plague nations with pestilential rot. Entities that could amalgamate into colossal tyrants of the most prestigious groupings of blocks and blobs. I felt Them. And They felt me.


    I heard, through those soundless words¡­ sorrow. The song of the Mother and her Children and those who were not- the walls. I heard the Mother of Nature''s Children connecting with the mother herself. I harmonized with it. Attuned with it in a way like never before, and so the Mother and her Children sang ever louder. Yet, I heard¡­ other children. Children that were of the mother, but not. Lost, perhaps- Outsiders, I supposed..


    I heard them singing as high as they could hope to with the lungs they didn''t have. A mere whisper when compared to the Mother and her Children. But I heard them. And I heard their roots. Reaching healthily to the Mother''s embrace to bind strongly and remain stronger.


    I heard the Mother''s withered branches, meant to support those outsiders, break under their combined weight and plummet to shatter in echoing booms.


    I heard the whimpers of both the Mother and the outsiders lamenting the lost days of their connection; or, conversely, longing for one to form.


    I heard them.


    I felt it.


    I saw everything.


    Yet, I knew nothing; not how or why it happened, what was before, or how I could fix it. Yet, I obsessed over it; that was madness.


    I needed no instruction from Myra. Or anyone, for that matter. But that too was a point of madness, for I had to learn from everyone.


    I learned from Etan. Only so I could have more time to find the answers later. I put my all into my combat training, removing the roots of doubt, hesitation, and fear from my petrified heart.


    I learned from Iris. Only so I could learn why the civilized species sought to destroy nature to create their machinations and, in turn, create a means to first reverse it; and then serve as their alternative.


    I learned from Blude. Only so I could learn how to accommodate those I invited to learn my ways and more, learn how to use the civilized people''s obsession with metals and trinkets to my advantage.


    I learned from Geri. Only so I could learn how the outsiders hunted so that the Children could elude or learn from them, turning the hunter into the hunted.


    I learned from Freki. Only so I could learn how the civilized destroyed ecosystems for food, giving me the means to heal those lands and teach them ways to connect with the Mother''s reaching hand. Or sever it entirely.


    I learned from Wilson. Only so I could learn how to enhance life and death to make abominations and blessings for both the Mother and the outsiders.


    I learned from Rickley. Only so I could instill the undeniable power of art into both the Mother and her Children; into both Mothers and their combined Children.


    I learned from Leary. Only so I could teach the Mother how to strengthen her tools of warfare in ways that matched those beyond her purview; to remove the tendency for passive violence and convince her to take direct action.


    I learned from Amun. Only so I could learn how to use the power of the enchanted crystals to give my Kitchens the edge in all realms. And to infuse them with whatever power my humanity would soon claim.


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    I learned from them all. All in exchange for my knowledge of the druidic arts and biochemical and biological processes; incomplete though that knowledge was, for I learned that I knew nothing as I tried to teach the Troupe what I thought I knew. So, in my free time, I studied and toiled and tried to learn how to use the Mother''s creations for my ends. I took my wand of flesh and tried to understand. But it wasn''t until I was made to catalyze the cadavers of a thousand creatures felled both above and below that understanding came.


    Sentient creatures with varying ranges of power. Beasts. Feral, divine, and magical alike. I dissected and studied those creatures, not my druids and poachers, to complete my knowledge of biology. I studied their DNA, sequenced their genes and sought ways to both improve and impede their biological functions. I created systems that mimicked the natural actions of these creatures and dissimilar creatures as well.


    Those bountiful efforts rewarded me with basins of biomass to crystallize and store to use when Myra finally dragged me into the cosmic void to weave my world. A pestilential expanse of Duskwoods on the surface only. A hollow shell to be filled wholly through my efforts in learning architecture through yet more visions. Infrastructure, as Amun called it. Made not with stone and metal but with bone and flesh.


    Beneath the surface of that world, carved with endless caverns, I filled pits and chambers alike with bodies and chunks to be processed into their constituent parts and fed into yet more vats. A vat for hearts, a pit for stomachs, a pool for blood, a basin for skin, and yet more for bones, hair and nails, mucus, or any other fluid or part, no matter how big or small. Fed again were those pits into chambers, vats, and sacks meant to repurpose what the living no longer needed. Hearts continued their function as pumps; elbows and knees as levers and hinges; ribs and spines for arches and columns; crystallized blood and radiant nerves for paint and luminescence. Yet, that was just the foundational infrastructure. The biomass was intended for better things. FleshTech, as it were. Scrying devices made from eyes. Those¡­ computer things, from brains. Healing pods and gestation chambers from uteruses. Entire factories, in reality. Vast complexes that could intake biomass and semi-autonomously produce whatever me or my little garden of Flesh Children needed.


    Indeed, those machinations were only my world''s essentials, as my daily feasts soon beheld visions of the Mother of Nature taking the hand of the Father of Evolution to create a new Child. A child who would create singular cities as tall as mountains, made to house the Mother''s Children and the Outsiders in harmony for eons. Yet, like before, I only understood once I made one for myself. Deep in the core of my world was my arcology of flesh; my Flesh Kitchen, wherein I was dubbed an Eldritch Environmental Engineer and made to return to my bounty of flesh. For it was then time live according to my title.


    While the Owl blessed me, I was cursed by the Devil of the Fae. That left my powers of the Twilight Grove corrupted. It was the same ability that I saw- committed in the Feathered Grove. Wherein the bodies of those I felled condensed and crystallized in a long staff held by my tainted hands. The wickedness within me birthed a branch of flora that fed on life. Their oft-fleshy stems grew warts and cysts while their roots absorbed biomass, turning them into seed crystals and prongs embedded into the handles of druidic tools.


    It was a foul, abhorrent ability, according to the signed words of my umbral mother and father. Yet, I felt it to be pure, an ability I saw worth in once I remembered the many battlefields, massacre sites, or mass graves scattered across the lands and imagined them cleared within minutes. Therein was my chosen duty- a task I took upon myself. To assist the Mother of Nature while giving me affluence to the civilized folk: Reina''s Cleanup Crew. Countered, as all things were, by the Life Centers, wherein the most critical of wounds could be healed without risk and body parts could be regrown with a little time. My businesses, as they were called; things that required little more than planning and preparation. Unlike my appointed duties.


    The undying mind behind the NoxNet, Simion Lumbarde, was that duty. As Iris was his caretaker for his machine aspects, I was the caretaker for the fleshy bits of him that remained. An Augmentator and a Mutator, we respectively were. Administrators, the two of us. Friends, the three of us.


    We each had domains in Simion''s hidden void. Hers was a house of ceramic and steel; mine was of flesh and bone. She had hands, and later machine animals, to aid in her work with Simion. I had no such tools. Thus I worked. I created.


    In my Flesh Kitchen, I eagerly toiled and tinkered with the poachers who ravaged Redagh. But before I could finally meld them with my pits and chambers of bio-materials and genetic templates, I had to research and design the perfect method with which to design my perfect children. Thus, I made Templates for each brood I would create; a framework of six Seeds that grouped the biological functions of an organism into easily manageable blocks. In each seed, the genes of countless animals were to be tailored to allow that brood to thrive in the environment in which they were born. Or, they could be as genetic data and later be combined with other seeds to make the various Castes.


    Each Caste, adapted for a specific purpose, combined characteristics of an ant, bee, or wasp colony with those of the civilized species to make up 26 castes per brood, and each brood would begin here in my Flesh Kitchen.


    Each brood''s genesis would start with a wise rock imbued with my powers of flesh. Taken by the Flesh Kitchen, it would form the beating heart of a new child. Their birth would be on the surface amidst a bounty of biomass, and they would sample, harvest, and oft-feast, increasing the size of their heart until it reached a critical mass, wherein the wise rock''s matured will would begin pulling them toward an ecological dead zone. And then they''d die.


    They die in a grand explosion of gore, ejecting the innards of my child and their concentrated biomass across the land to have it coalesce and take the form of a new Flesh Kitchen, wherein she would be reborn as its Brood Queen. This Brood and the one that would come after were different, however. They were and would be born from my world in Eotrom. Thus, they would have abilities other broods would not. All else was the same, however.


    As with every child of every brood, their Frame was the first Seed to be designed. It was the general structure, be it the skeleton or lack thereof. Chitinous or mineral-bound exoskeletons or invertebrates were just as capable as any other body type; and there was the need for more¡­ formless children to be born in some places. But they would not be found in my first brood. No, the Template of the Caretaker''s Brood was given an orcish frame to give each Caste solidity and support and make them grow up to be big and strong boys and girls.


    The Mind was the second Seed, consisting of either the brain of a once-living creature or a brain made anew. The former allowed for more or less the same preferences and temperaments of the individual in life; minus their memories. The latter allowed for the fine-tuning of the mind and persona. To that end, I used a human persona for Simion''s caretaker to make him feel more at ease.


    That was built upon by the Peripheral Seed. The nerves and sensory organs or whatever was responsible for sensory input, be it light, vibrations, and heat, to magic, life, and souls. For this, I used the Elven genetic template for their senses to give them mana sight, night vision, and overall higher perceptive abilities. Of course, the other side to that was heightened nerves, granting a small boost to dexterity and agility. However, the efficiency of such things depended largely on the following Seed.


    The Drives were not just the musculature but the respiratory, circulatory, and digestive functions as well. Every bodily function meant to keep the Child alive. And so it was that I gifted them with the drives of a dwarf to give them a curiously robust physicality paired with a nice, thick beard.


    The other Seeds of the Templates were the Arms, of which this brood had none. Their role was one of companionship and medicinal witchcraft. There was simply no need for exotic weapons or defenses. Unlike the final Seed.


    My first brood''s Supplements included a mutation for an ovipositor in select Caste members. A highly efficient ovipositor that used biomass to lay and hatch disposable, non-sentient drones to assist in their endeavors. So too did they have tiny moth-like antennae in their eyebrows meant to connect them mentally to the rest of the Caretaker''s brood. A Brood my first daughter, Aloura, couldn''t wait to gestate and birth by the hundreds.


    So, like any good mother, I sent her off to grow, for I had some growing to do as well.

 354 - Scholarly Gobby

    Leary, the Faithful.


    ***


    The early years of my life were a blur of memories. Insignificant and yet not.


    I remembered a deep pit. A vast scar on the earth filled to the brim with my subjects. My species. My children. Goblin-kin. Never alone were we goblins, hobgoblins, and bearbugs, however. Others flocked among us regularly. Orcs and ogres mostly, with the occasional wood giant or troll.


    I remembered a lot of pain. A constant stench. Ever-present hunger. Perpetual thirst. Constant itches. Regular stomach pains. Permanent runs. Constant beatings. Fear. Then, I remember being sent out. With the warriors, scouts, fighters, and booyagh, I stepped onto those rickety bone lifts and went to the surface. There, I remembered a white sheet. Blistering cold. Red and black. Bloodshed was what I remembered. Carnage. Destruction. First from orcs and dwarves. Then from dark elves. Then the Owl.


    Then came my rebirth. An event that remained as clear to me as the present, throughout my long lifetimes.


    Across, below, and then above. That was my journey to begin the path to enlightenment. There, in that heavenly abyss- the fifth level of my God¡¯s home- was where I spent my childhood. In university, learning all things. But not before the Mafia saw fit to visit before my lessons even began. Scrubbing me, bathing me, shaving me; clipping my nails, salving my skin, and oiling my hair day after day and demanding I build places to care for myself when they left.


    I did, admittedly, as their treatments were rather nice. However, I made it clear they would never handle me in such a way again. Regardless, they disappeared as promised. Leaving me to explore my childhood home. A garden of foul creatures and malicious undead, overlooked by castles embedded into mountains from base to peak. In those halls- in my halls, I first learned to read, write, count, and speak with eloquence. But not through lectures, lessons, and practice. Through words, signs, sigils, and voices scratching at my mind, echoing louder than my voice until I was scribbling those numbers and screaming those languages to the skies.


    I learned over a dozen of them in this way. Languages both silent and verbal. Both of this world and not. All to such a degree of class, it could impress even the other demigods. Only then, though, once I was literate, did I move on to traditional studies and practices. By then, my days were split evenly between the two. Studies and practice. Education and training. Lessons and exercises. Action and observation. Everything had two sides. But not like that of a coin. More like a stream, these things were. With a point and an end and everything between.


    With my God and the Demigods, I first mastered my body by learning about my body. My bones and my station as a Goblin Paragon. The first Goblin Paragon and thus God-Emperor goblin-kin, Leary, the Faithful. My station made me stronger, faster, healthier, wiser, smarter, and more gobbily than any other gobby in existence; save the goblin deities. But it wasn¡¯t those gods who made me more than what I am. It was the Elven Devil who made me an Undying Fiend. And it was he who gave me a body that goblins could only dream of.


    I learned to make use of that body through fighting like everyone else. But my time spent fighting was much longer. Twelve hours per day in those timeless chambers. Twelve hours, fighting until Etan corrected my sloppy technique with a brutal flurry. Fighting atop horses, Sausage, flying creatures, and swimming beasts. Fighting with every weapon imaginable. I even learned how to fly and swim while fighting.


    For twelve hours, I fought. Then the fighting would stop so I could emerge from that timeless chamber to learn of tactics and schemes or understand sayings, quotes, and agreements from the God¡¯s world of war gods, as Etan saw them, and as I agreed. I read the greatest works from the greatest generals of those gods. Gods who mastered the warring aspects of art; who meditated in search of profound wisdom and who needed to meditate because of the wisdom they gained. Gods who made agreements with themselves, for the sake of themselves; who discerned the innate laws of power and the art of war. I reenacted the greatest accomplished by other gods. Feats of a few destroying the important for the sake of the many; of empires destroyed with empty stomachs, or prestigious goods. Feats of coastlines being destroyed in mere hours; of entire cities being wiped out in minutes; of cultures being destroyed with information. Feats of liberation.


    For twelve hours, I did those things. Then I would emerge from my castle to find undead kingdoms sprawled across my land, mimicking the scenes and scenarios I studied. For twelve hours, I would help or hinder them. Day in and day out. Even while other things began happening. Ginku began appearing with Etan, for example. Not to train, but to ask questions. Strange questions about two ravines, goblins in each, and a stampede headed their way. Questions of how I saw blobs of goo, how I felt about certain things, or what I would do in certain situations. Questions, I assumed, the other demigods were asked, so I answered; for twelve hours.


    I never got an answer in return. Yet they left and the lessons continued on with numbers and counting. The numbers grew longer and more tedious to write while they grew higher. Then we began mixing the numbers; taking some away, putting some back, making differences or products of other numbers. Then¡­ Then the numbers made for more complex languages. The numbers were used to describe the physical world. Objects and their relations with each other. Then letters were added to the numbers to account for numbers that were unknown. And from there, it grew evermore complex.


    I used the language of numbers to learn how the almost infinite combinations could change. And then the language was used to learn the unknown points and angles of the universe. I learned these archaic languages, taking only the smallest assistance from my God to do so for twelve hours. And for twelve more hours, I would explore beyond my castle to translate them into the real world.


    The length of shadows cast from trees, I translated. The size of an object seen through a viewing glass, I translated. Angles and circles, I translated. Weight. Stuff. This. That. Myself. Others. The elements. Magic. Life. Death. Unseen things. Things too big to see. I translated the secrets of the universe using the archaic language of numbers. Finding, as those beings did, new tools to use to my advantage. In my childish mind, I viewed them as sacred runes one needed to apply to one''s mind rather than imbue onto to something to give it power, and those runes could be applied to everything.


    Structured were such that my studies saw me apply that language to the world around me, creating a new language. A language of the inquisitor gods, those who discovered all. A tongue that allowed them to inquire the truth of the universe and enabled us to teach that truth to others. Like them, I used this language to inquire, then used the language from before- mathematics, to test and test some more until I found the answers to the questions burning brightest in my mind. Truths for all things. The air and the earth. Fire and lightning. Water and the elements oft-unknown.


    Science, I learned, to learn the language of matter and energy. Physics, I learned, to learn the language of elements, molecules, and substances. Chemistry, I learned, to understand the secret language of rocks. Geology, I learned, to learn the language of the skies. Meteorology, I learned, to the learn the language of the seas. Oceanology, I learned, to learn the language of life. Biology, I learned, to realize the depths of my power.


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    Bone.


    I learned of its ¡®cousins.¡¯ Horns, hooves, nails, and shells. Strengths, weaknesses, I learned. And like those gods, I found ways to use my power to both help and hinder those things; all so I could learn how to destroy and heal those things and, in turn, make them better. Or worse.


    For twelve hours, I took my many languages and made tools of bone. Tools that matched the baked earth used by halflings. Devices that could corral food for slaughter like the humans. Creations that matched the vibrant wooden structures used by the elves. Machines that matched the heated metal used by the dwarves. Weapons that matched the sheer brutality of the orcs. When those hours passed, I spent twelve more hours making items with those things. Items meant not to produce more things. Items that were made to look at and feel, reflect, and remember. Things of beauty and things of terror. Things that started simply, like those tools, and grew more complex as time went on.


    I was six when I formed my world. A skull of a world floating in the void. Yet my days continued as normal. My days continued to begin with fighting- warring against Etan in that timeless pit for twelve hours before I emerged to study for twelve hours and work for twelve hours more.


    With the other demigods, I studied. I studied how to imbue my sorcery into my creations and create things that could match them without magic. I studied how and why humans, elves, and dwarves used their gold and trinkets to maintain control over their others and their things. I studied how to build castles for my subjects; castles that could let them live as the nobles they were meant to be. I studied how to feed them. How to care for them. How to educate them.


    I studied the arts of Booyagh. And from the other fiendish demigod, I learned of toxins and potions so I could mix those things with my knowledge of chemistry. I studied the arts of the most honored of fighters. I learned how to chant and sing and bang the drums of their hearts; not only to rally them for battle, but to reel their snarls for battle back in. I studied the arts of the shaman, not to plead the realms into doing my bidding, but to enable me the means to impart my wisdom onto them. To upgrade and enhance them as some of the other demigods sought; as our God did for us. I studied the arts of attack and defense, not only from the teacher, but from the animals of above and below.


    Above all, I studied how to mix and powderize precious metals and crystals. I studied how to use the many languages to create the perfect arrangement for that mix and create a single something made of a million other things that were identical in appearance. I studied how to carve into them, and, in turn, studied how to carve them into the things I made. I studied those things for twelve hours, and for twelve hours more, I wrote those things down. Into tomes and onto tables, I inscribed and scribbled everything I knew to fill my skeletal world with divine knowledge. My divine knowledge for my most devoted subjects. I studied, and I studied, and I wrote, and lectured, and mapped all that was in my head. Clearing it to make room for something greater.


    I was seven when it began. I stopped learning and began doing. Creatures and some demigods would come to my world to change things. Their bones and ligaments, their tendons and cartilage. Everything in their bodies that held calcium was altered and augmented and encased and enriched with metals and minerals to make them unbreakable. Two months passed until the bodies were replaced with the dead. And with their bones, I created ways to raise my undead with tools. Exoskeletons and armor. External manipulators and helmets with mandibles. Scouts and warriors and brutes and booyaghs and workers. Subjects of unliving bone.


    Two more months passed until the dead were replaced with the oils of the earth. And with that black gold, I created the most important resource for my subjects. Energy. Fuel. Combustibles. Explosives. The industrial backbone of my Goblin Empire. Oils and lubricants and fuels both solid and liquid were refined from the crude stuff. Giving me, in return, an abundance of sulfur along with several other chemicals. Petroleum and diesel, lubricants and oils, both light and heavy. Heating oils and lighter fuels- propane and butane. Coke. Naphtha. Bitumen. Paraffin wax.


    All the others had those many things in excess. Like all the others, I had to make something more of them. So I took my store of bones and ground them into powder, infused the bone meal with my sorcery, and then mixed it with coke to make something like clay. A gray, grainy clay that had to be shaped into a desired form before it dried, for it could never change shape once it did. But not enough, it was.


    With that better fuel- petroleum- and with my applied rune of science, I refined the process. The solid bone fuel- Burning Bone, was dissolved into the petrol to create a black brew that boiled always. Yet, it did not evaporate. Nor did that Boiling Bone ever freeze; the commercial lifeblood of my empire, the domain of all things, oil and fuel. Bonewater Refinery.


    However, with my intelligence and wisdom as Goblin God-Emperor- as Leary, the Faithful, I knew there would be many who would turn their nose away from my wares. Not because of what I was, but because of the fuel itself. Thus, through science, I not only developed my fuels further, I tested them; and in testing them, I learned everything about the fuels I created. I learned they could only be used in my vehicles of bone. I learned they were efficient, if not loud and environmentally unfriendly. Most importantly, I learned the nature of the thick smoke the fuels produced.


    A lingering fog, it was. One with no toxic elements to its composition. Only a nature that saw gasses often toxic cling to it lovingly, making it all too easy for fatal clouds to pool in sunken areas. A veil of dark smoke that blocked the sun¡¯s rays like overcast skies, it was, all while allowing heat to come and go freely, making it the perfect domain for rodents and fungi alike. It was a smoke that could destroy lands if left to linger. And so it was that I turned to the rune of science once more. Only this time, the rune was merged with the rune of technology to create my super-fuel. My Vehsipane. My Bonewater.


    Cartilage, not bone. I infused my power into cartilage to create it. The infusion dried the collagen into a fine powder mixed with the yellow pills of sulfur and the soft black goo of bitumen on its own accord to create a powdery substance. An agent that was to be added to my solid and liquid fuels. Seemingly to no effect. But so it was that such a small act created my super-fuel, for the agent was inert only until the fuel combusted. In reacting with the agent, the bone smoke would change into a combustible gas that readily reacted with oxygen. As God put it, this made a ''double-action'' combustion process that left heat as the only emission. However, it was extremely volatile.


    So it was that my super-fuel was reserved for the martial backbone of my empire. My feast for the legion of bone vehicles I spent half of my remaining time designing and creating. My foundation for the tools of destruction my God taught me to respect and revise and revere. Hand cannons and tech wands. Batteries of spell-cannons and mana mortars. Tanks and armored vehicles. Sky carriers and planes. Land crawlers and tunnelers. Ships and submarines. Engineering marvels of mechanical bone made in all shapes and sizes; I spent the remainder of my time creating these things. But only half of it.


    All things had two sides. And so it was that the last half of my final few months in heaven were spent teaching.


    I taught first my God. I taught him of my devotion to him- of my fiending for the fight. Then I taught him about my dream to create an osseous empire for not just goblin-kin and our peers but for all oppressed species. For all underdogs of society. Then, to show I truly learned, I traveled elsewhere and taught others.


    First the floating heads, the Lore Skulls. I practiced lectures, if only to ensure I knew what I thought I knew, for one did not understand the abstract until they could explain it simply. I taught. In turn, I learned of their crafts and of them. And through them, I learned what it meant to be the Goblin God-Emperor. I was the sole goblin with sorcery for all things osseous. I was a leader with a duty to change my kind as the realms evolved around them. One burdened not with protecting but with guiding the arrogant lost and teaching them of the gilded light. A treader of the fine line between coercion and persuasion.


    I learned what it meant to be Leary, the Faithful, barbarian-turned-fighter. Fiendish Soldier. Scourge of War. I learned these things but did not return to my world, for it was then that our education was complete. Thus bringing about the start of our initiation. But not before quite an interesting event.


    The Awakening.

 355 - Telins Hand

    Amun.


    ***


    "Ahh." I sighed in nostalgia. "This takes me back."


    "Oh?" Zakira turned to me with a playfully teasing glint in her eyes. "I''ve never been to one of these before."


    "Oh? You mean they don''t have these¡­" Iris paused to raise her hands like claws and playfully say, "in Hell?"


    "Argh!" Zakira growled, raising her claws in much the same way before they erupted in laughter. "Nah." She eventually said. "All the humans got cursed or made pacts and stuff a long time ago. Now they''re Striflings like Zarzok. I''ve always been curious about how this works."


    Iris sprinted away from us with that, shouting over her shoulder. "I''ll show you!"


    Through a variant of the same antechamber and archways I''d ventured through what felt like a lifetime ago, Iris sprinted. Showing just as much tact as the woman who raised her, she darted down the long catwalk to slap the crystal at the center. And only then did her head perk up and turn to blast the archway with her sorcery.


    Filled with materials she''d ingested over the years, the blast of blue energy slammed into the arch. Not to destroy it, but to build upon it cameras that wirelessly streamed to the slates and screens in the adjacent rooms for our viewing pleasure. Technomancy; corrupted with my blood to become Technecromancy.


    Similar to my case, her innate powers took the form of an intricate web of circuits and components in the basin of the Core Annex, creating a black, cybernetic heart that beat in tune with the deep blue pulses of the Mana Well forming above the crystal. A pulse of similarly colored energy signaled the depletion of her reserves, the force of which ejected a gentle stream to cascade over the many crystals embedded within the upper shell of the elliptical room. It turned out those crystals were no different from unprimed enchantment crystals, other than their shape being parallelograms. A subtle difference that made the material flow with an affinity granted from Telin rather than contain the magic imbued within.


    In this case, the energy granted by the Creator was no different from the energy contained within Iris. Down, the bright blue fluid dripped to a halt before Iris'' frame like a field of plasma contained within a magnetic field; a blue bean placed before her belly. Their reach was simultaneous. A handshake that resulted in a stream of particles that left Iris as dumbfounded as the rest of us.


    "You cannot be serious." Etan shifted his gilded eyes from the screen to me.


    "You already knew she could cast like us." I snorted. "Why are you surprised?"


    "An innate ability to cast with mana is far different from an Affinity Core for mana," he snorted derisively.


    "It suits her class." I shrugged, snickering. "Blame the blessing Telin gave me if it bothers you that much."


    "Yeesh, Etan, you sound jealous." Zakira snickered.


    "I am not jealous. I am unsettled."


    "Same thing." Zakira shrugged. Then leaned forward just as the ceiling began to darken and shift.


    Using my ostentatious and ridiculous Diadem of Empyrean Facultas, I used my omnipresence to look through Iris'' eyes and see a violently spinning disk of energy and debris fall before her. Seeing that, I needed neither the tool nor the perk to understand the nature of her new affinity for Rotational Magic. A powerful- if not overpowered ability indeed.


    "What, no words this time?" Zakira dramatically huffed at Etan.


    "No." He simply said. "Her limbs rotate like screws when she conjures them."


    "Fair enough." She mumbled from behind her chalice and remained sipping while a green mass of energy Bamfed before Iris'' head in the blink of an eye. "What about that, huh?"


    "She Warps all the time, Zakira." Etan sighed. "She has her own dimension, after all."


    His annoyance turned to intrigue once the ceiling shifted again. This time into a sandy material that became gaseous in some places and liquid in others, even while it deposited before her for integration. "M¡­" It was almost like he didn''t want to say it, the way Etan shied away from us. "Molecular Magic," he said flatly.


    "Oh, she does that all the time." I gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. "Eats things. Changes her body. You know how it is."


    "You''re just mad you don''t get to take naps."


    Etan rolled his eyes away from Iris, striding back into the room as if she had just crowned herself Empress. "I cannot be mad about something I have never done."


    "Boo ho-hoo!" We all turned with wrinkled brows at Zakira, who was shedding actual tears away with a handkerchief while she sobbed hysterically, and so convincingly that even I struggled to discern fact from fiction. "They grow up so fast!"


    I couldn''t help but snicker, as what she said had some truth no matter how cliche it was to admit it. Iris may have retained her childish enthusiasm and picked up a few habits from me and Zakira along the way, but she was no longer the little girl I picked up from an orphanage just a few days or relative years ago. Now, Iris Cole was a young lady standing proudly at 190 centimeters. She still had her trademark blueprint tunic draped over her frame, but now she had added a cropped jacket of black denim to complete her fit. Similarly, her Pacific-blue eyes highlighted her Saharan-tan skin like before. Only, it was covered in a diadem dissimilar to mine, being solid and filled with technology, rather than mana. Yet its function was more or less the same.


    As advertised, she settled herself on a sofa between Zakira and me to begin integrating her new spiritual organs into her systems, uncaring entirely for the new arrivals entering the room.


    "Ugh! Officers. Slacking as always."


    "Now, now, Leary." Etan snickered. "You know how it is with her."


    The goblin paragon flicked his yellow eyes between me and Etan before a shrug pushed a rasped sigh from his lungs.


    Quite the interesting character Leary turned out to be. At times, I considered him nothing more than a green-skinned man with large ears; I was reminded of where he came from at other times; and at all times, he wore vestments of his armor to remind everyone of who he was. Bone fingers encircled his chest, forming an X-shaped brace that stretched over and under his arms, ultimately meeting a rat skull on his sternum. Osseous helmets or hats or hoods rested atop his head. The finest suits, tunics, and trousers were tailored to fit around his protruding spine and showcase his volatile ribs. He was... elegant.


    "What about those beneath her?" Leary sighed again. "She has about thirty, you know."


    "Several of whom are not human." Etan countered and subsequently turned at the sound of a violin abruptly cutting short.


    "Aww! Don''t tell me we''re late?"


    "You missed Iris'' mind-breaking affinities, yes," Etan answered bluntly, never removing his eyes from the screens. "From what I can see, however, Blude and her Mafia are due next."


    "And there''s about seventy of them." Leary chimed.


    "Still haven''t learned to live and laugh, I see." Rickley hopped into her seat with a sigh. "Just give it a couple of centuries, Leary. You''ll get it eventually."


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    "This will take forever, though, will it not? There are so many of them! I mean, it''s impossible for Geri to make friends so she only has six, and only two of them are human. But, Freki? The boy is good. He has over fifty ravenous beasts! It''ll be days if we go at this rate."


    "Calm down, Leary! You''ll be fine." Rickley said, reaching for my joint. "We''ve been working for years. Play is just as important."


    "Oh, lady, my work is play."


    "He has a point," I said as I sparked up another joint. "The ceremony is done twice a year in Maru for everyone who turned fifteen that year. There will eventually be billions in the Legions alone, however, so building a core Annex in each of our territories may not be enough. We may have to make it a tradition for people to awaken their cores on their fifteenth birthday. Or just¡­ teach everyone to build them.


    "But that''s neither here nor there. Look." I pointed to what appeared to me as a Waterworld taking form before a much, much larger Blude. At 202 centimeters, she looked the part of the Amazonian everyone thought she was, and the Gerdian Abbot Eiriol claimed she was. Only her sorcery belied that appearance. A basin of silver misty water that represented her Silverstream Sorcery. That, however, was only the beginning, for that same water soon flow from above, forming a blue sphere of water, clouds, and ice that represented her affinity for Oceanic Magic.


    With the absorption of her divine energy, the ceiling turned into a many-layered field of green that deposited an affinity for Kelp Magic into the matriarch. Followed soon after by the amorphous ridges of Coral Magic and the endless spheres of Bubble Magic. Then, as Leary proclaimed, the rest of her Mafia followed suit. As Leary implied, it was a lot. So, we elected to observe the Troupe''s direct subordinates and alter the perceptions of time in our booth to skim through the rest.


    The first direct subordinate of Blude''s was Gwehn, a 192 centimeters-tall woman in a blubber jacket and shit-kicker boots. A woman who delved into the world of sports and somehow came out with affinities for Blubber and Fin Magic on top of her innate affinity for Sea Sorcery. Nevertheless, she took it in strides and returned to watch the half-elf of her pod take the stand. Lizlee, being one of the orphans from Chor, became Blude''s bard and thus a master of media, granting her affinities for Ray and Echo magic on top of her Mist Sorcery.


    Redd, like Blude, saw her Silversteel Sorcery materialize into a mass that looked both like ice and steel before a shifting sheet of ice and rock appeared before her, condensing into her core for Glacial Magic. When the ceiling illuminated once more, it did so as nearly a dozen ribbons of various colors. Rather than an organ, it formed more of a loop around her 195 centimeters of mass and assimilated for the cameras to display its name for the rest of us- Current Magic. Unfortunately, her other affinities weren''t as eye-catching; a hardly perceptible field of air for her Pressure Magic and an ebbing and flowing mass of energy for her Tidal Magic.


    Jayde was the Mafia''s financial adviser. Standing at 189 centimeters, she was the second-shortest made member; slim and spectacled, and always dressed in a fine suit. Like her matriarch, her sorcery revolved around ice. Specifically, Iceberg Sorcery, and she was granted affinities for Plastic and Scale Magic. Sam, on the other hand, was in the middle in terms of height, standing 198 cm. She was as lean as I suspected she''d be but honed with the body of a monastic lifestyle. It was with her that we started to see the truly remarkable affinities.


    Her sorcery granted her dominion over Silversteam, which had been compounded with her Geyser Magic. More eccentric, however, was her Vent, Temperature, and Victual magic. The latter of which sent everyone on a frenzy of hypotheses and what ifs as to its nature. I suspected the power only worked on prepared food, working to provide buffs and the like. And if it did produce food on its own, I imagined it wouldn''t taste very well. Regardless, we grew eager to both see it in action and proceed with the awakenings. As was the Mafia, given the speed with which Emily ran to the pedestal.


    As the absolute shortest human matriarch of the Mafia, Emily stood at 187 centimeters and had a perpetually messy mane of raven-black hair cradling her face. Being an alchemist and a witch, she was the primary drug-manufacturer of the Legio Noctis. Thus, I grew to know her quite well. Perhaps that was the reason she was granted three affinities atop her Sorcerous Clouds rather than two like Jayde and Gwehn. Regardless, she was granted Filter Magic in addition to affinities for Glass and Venom. Not poison, interestingly enough, but an ability presumed to inject a target with an energy that could produce any imagined effect.


    Much to Leary''s dismay, the made members of Blude''s Mafia didn''t awaken their cores just yet. Instead, the other titans of the Troupe made their way inside the antechamber. And from there, only three emerged.


    The first was the Hateful Hoarder of Winter. A 210-centimeter tall pillar of lean muscle, braided white hair, and pale skin. Geri, the Winter Werewolf. Her power- and her brother''s- was most extraordinary. Like everyone else, their powers held a dual nature. Unlike everyone else, however, they were celestial deities. And so, both- or rather, their only powers came from their sorcery.


    The power of the Winter Wolf was represented as a basin filled with frozen fauna and frosted flora contained in a spherical jewel that floated above it like the moon. In darkness, it shone, but when shined upon by the light those flowers bloomed, those plants and animals thawed, birthing a beating heart of Spring on the far side of that organ. That was it. Geri had no more affinities to show for. But her subordinates, bitten to share in her curse, were spared from her arcane fate. They held the power of Winter and Spring as Geri did. But so too did Katheryn, her Bard, receive affinities for Amplification, Vibration, and Wave Magic. That made for a hypothesis that was all but confirmed when Rhonda, the mechanic, received affinities that would benefit her occupation as well. Electrical Magic, Weld Magic, and Lift Magic.


    As was stated, the same was true for the Mocking Marauder of Summer. At a staggering 223 centimeters of rippling muscle, wavy black hair, and solar eyes, Freki was easily the tallest member of the Troupe. His Summer and Autumnal Sorcery was something he often used with reckless abandon. Albeit not to its fullest extent. However, the grains, flowers, and fungi that ripened as his sun set before him were something he needed to see to believe. Only for his farm worlds was his Autumnal Sorcery ever used; which was more than his sister could say, at least. At any rate, they returned to the antechamber just like the Mafia before them, and it was through that crowd of titans that two tiny giants emerged.


    The first was a frail young man standing perhaps 170 centimeters tall. Brooding, even from behind his hooded lab coat and goggles, his rumbling complaints echoed through the chamber as he slapped a skeletonized metal hand onto the crystal and tapped his foot impatiently. Although he wanted to return to his labs, no one could blame Wilson''s impatience, for we were on the edge of our seats in wait to see what he was granted. And my first Undying Fiend was granted a lot.


    From our pact, he was permitted to use an energy that saw a black smog fill the basin; from which emerged a fire of a similar color to my arcana. Necromancy, but without the shadows. On the contrary, the domed ceiling began to hiss and steam as vibrant and putrid fluids seeped, dripped, and pooled to form a quite vile affinity core- Corrosion Magic.


    It was the first of such vile powers, for indeed, the fluids changed in both color and viscosity once the core was absorbed. Some fluids bubbled while other liquids frothed, foaming into eldritch shapes that all condensed into a core for Chemical Magic. Worse, it got, as the fluids dried into a husk that threatened to pull the very chamber to the ground. Only for rubble to condense from the ambient energy and take shape into a core for Decay Magic.


    But yet again, energy poured from the ceiling. This time, a violent tempest was conjured next to stampeding avalanches and other chaotic scenes born from mana to create a core for Disaster Magic; truly a world-breaking power for such a frail man. But even those were tame in comparison to the last one standing in the antechamber.


    She was a half-elven woman, standing 175 centimeters tall. Lithe and petite, she was, with skin that seemed unsettlingly doll-like; especially around her neck and hairline. Reina, the corrupted druid one-upped the Eldritch Artificer in terms of power, for she was given Sorcerous Twilight to make her dual druidic powers possible. While Rickley also obtained Twilight, Reina''s was more... pure. The heavenly glow she poured into the ceiling merged with her yellow arcana as it cascaded into the ceiling to out pour the most putrid of fluids. From that juxtaposition, an affinity for Disease Magic was born. And once it withered into a cake of soil above those crystals, it gave rise to a verdant field of Flora Magic.


    From those fields of flowers, the foul again arose to take the form of flesh. Blood and bile and guts and gore filled the space above, churning with sickening sounds to present an amorphous beating blob for the druid to take with pleasure. Yet, as if Telin was imposing some metaphor on me, the vile sight of her Flesh Magic Core gave rise to the most pure magic of all.


    It appeared as a light that boiled the field of blood off the stone. Into the air, it evaporated and condensed into bright pink particles, eventually creating a comically drawn heart that beat with the drums of Life Magic.


    Such a revelation made for a night of revelry. Even while the hundred or so staff officers awakened their cores, we ate and smoked and drank and absorbed ourselves in recreation. Making general conversation based on the interesting abilities that arose or asking questions based on the most curious entries in their Tomes. The calm before the storm, it was; and ended with Iris perking up to inquire about the Maruleans awakening their cores.


    "It''s all part of the list I had them start building," I told her.


    Etan, however, was the one to reply. "I am curious. Are we to obtain as many prestige classes as you have?"


    "Oh, no." I snickered knowingly. "Your work thus far, and those tomes of yours put you on the path toward something much, much better. Legendary Classes. Not that I''ll tell you what that means."


    "Oh! What about the ordinary people?" Iris cheekily asked. "If every city has a tree and regular people eat fruits, will they get ordinary classes? Like, Merchant. Or Farmer?"


    "That''s ridiculous." Etan rolled his eyes.


    "We''re ridiculous." Iris tutted, pointing at me. "He''s the God of such wondrous things."


    "I- ugh. Whatever."

 356 - The Darkest Room

    Iris Cole.


    ***


    "Alright, before you all drink the sap and begin training, there are a few things we have to finalize. Iris?"


    I perked up, ready to respond, only to be flagged by a data packet downloading into my archives. It opened the millisecond I accepted, showcasing a vast world of towering mountains and deep vales overlooking two super-continents connected by a land bridge, with a few exotic islands sprinkled around the seas.


    "Okay!" I hopped in front of the Troupe, throwing tech blasts at everyone to craft proper desks and illusory screens before I switched operative modes. With the application of the bardic perks I received growing up, I always felt a coldness creep into my vocal transmitters whenever I switched; and it always matched the sudden giddiness of conducting Legion business.


    "Project Darkroom," I announced, pacing across the room with great poise. "Placeholder nomenclature is thus: The Noctis Halls. Descriptor: the Abyssal anvil that forges Noctis Legionaries beneath the hammer of war. It is a spatially distorted and temporally dilated chamber that mimics the worst conditions found across the Mortal Plane. Arcana fills the realm, creating Extreme Mana Zones and Catastrophic Arcane Territories throughout. The seasons change on a weekly basis and the apparent gravity increases by .2G per month. All to promote a habit of using mana molding at all times.


    "The slaves of Nydorden Halls liberated through death. Those felled from the battles in Shujen and the Kasian Empire. All who were whispered words in Deep Abyssal before Grand Master Amun killed them now take up residence in this expanse. They are ruled by the first proxies, Sir Doyle Wolfgang and Lady Olga Godzuik; alongside the first undead, Abyssal Abbot Zaraxus and Lady Lana. They all boast military-industrial empires akin to ours. Eager, they are, for our blood."


    Malicious grins answered the challenge from all around. I loved it. So I began pacing with fervor to egg them on more. "The Noctis Legionaries should fear the Darkroom more than anything in existence. More so than dragons, demons, or even the Gods, they must fear the Darkroom. It is for that reason that the recruits must live, grow, train, die, and learn through four maddening phases of training.


    "They will be locked in a cycle of reincarnation in every phase. The first phase, however, takes after Etan''s world to strip them of their magic. Leaving them with just enough to stand without collapsing. For three months, they will undergo relentless physical training and combat conditioning while hostiles swarm them in waves, depriving them of sleep, food, and morale until their fear of death and suffering is vanquished. This is the War Phase.


    "The next phase also lasts for three months. Magic and Martial Training. If they haven''t already, recruits will take this time to master the four requirements: Manipulation, Mana Molding, Martial Combat, and Flight. So too, however, will classroom studies begin as well as courses to develop mana tolerance, fortify wells, develop spells, and train with basic equipment. The third phase consists of Battle Drills- mastering war and cross-training. Again, it will last for three months. It is in this phase where legionaries can test for licenses to use more advanced equipment and take specialized courses for their class; as this is the most relaxed phase to make the drop of the last phase harder.


    "The Abyssal Phase removes the recruits from their reincarnation cycle, yet it keeps them from dying outright. Unlike the War Phase, recruits will regain their magic and will use the skills gained to engage and destroy the magically inclined and technologically advanced empires of the Darkroom. Our training will be the same, omitting the Magic and Martial Training. Instead, we are to replicate what we''ve accomplished on our worlds to fulfill the following tasks. First, to give structure to the Darkroom''s administrative processes and training regimen and to second, make the training as challenging and traumatizing as possible.


    "We will start with the first point. Any ideas?"


    "What of recruiting?" Etan asked. "Standards, preliminary education, transportation? Data analysis?"


    "That''s done at the discretion of the Legion''s Imperator," I answered. "Generally speaking, we have no recruiting standards. If they''re so vile or old that they have to be turned into devils or raised as undead, then so be it. In any case, their first step will see them transported here for reception."


    "In that case, I would like to propose a method of gathering information on the recruits before the training begins, but after they arrive. A walk." Etan smiled knowingly.


    "Ugh." Blude rolled her eyes. "Again with the walks."


    "Specifically, a night march across the barren, soundless surface of Mani." Etan continued in stride, ignoring Blude entirely. "A march of madness, wherein their only order is to walk. What they would not be told is that the task to complete is forty-eight hours of movement. The clock shall tick forward only whilst they move at a walking pace, yet it should go no faster should they run. Their destination only reveals itself once that time has elapsed. Our instructors will not guide them. Nor will they grade the recruits on how fast or slow they accomplish this timeless task. They will only observe.


    "Do they complete their vague orders with haste, or do they take their time? Do they go in the directions their instructors look, down the paths paved by others, or do they make their own way? How do they react to the unknown? What would they do when not observed or when powerless? These observations can tell us much about a person without even speaking to them."


    "I agree." I nodded slowly. "In that case, that will be the first Night in the Administration Phase of Reception. As for the rest, the GM has compiled a course akin to the many variations of ''boot camp'' or ''basic training'' documented on the Net. The first item on that list- what will be the Second Night, is the Soul Screening."


    At this, the Guild Master- my dad- stepped forward. "I''ll need to look into the eyes of the recruits to read their souls. My blessing, Telin''s Sight, will let me see their potential classes while the Void Devil''s Eyes will show me their deepest desires. That will facilitate their placement in the Legions and allow for tailored lessons, aided with tomes and grimoires for them and their instructors. More so, it will allow them to be more organized. As Iris stated, while those who are wicked have a place in the Legions, there will be some who are so vile or decrepit that they''d be better off dead. Even they, however, would be given a choice. A gamble. A roll of a cursed die to decide if they become a devil, undying shadow, or any type of undead." He playfully tossed a 20-sided die in his hand while smirking at the lot of us. Then continued.


    "Everyone else will be given a list of occupations and Legions to choose from based on their traits, qualities, ambitions, and the paths available to them. They can be trained at their discretion, and the instructors should be aware of those choices to guide them properly."


    "Of course." Etan nodded.


    "To make that easier, I could make a Brood for the Darkroom. I mean," Reina awkwardly giggled. "I was going to anyway, but I can make a few observers and seers in here, with a bit of your¡­ um. Blood."


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    "That''s fine." The GM shrugged, then turned back to me. In turn, I designed a many-eyed archway to mark the gate to the administrative moons in orbit of the Darkroom and added the file to the project.


    "A divine arch of birch, filled with our magic. Inscribed with the words: ''This archway; Beith, serves as alpha and omega, the death of your life as a mortal of the Planes; your birth as a Noctis Legionary."


    "A bit theatrical," Geri murmured, and was countered immediately by Rickley.


    "Gotta give ''em inspiration. Something poetic, so they can remember it with awe. We''re making demigods here, after all."


    Rather than respond with words, I responded with a simulation of the room I''d been working on and proceeded to ignore their initial reactions in favor of scrutinizing what I saw before I gave the GM the final approval.


    A snap, and gone was the nigh-invisible divine tree dominating the distant horizon. In its place was a quaint campsite set up beside a towering cliff face of pale stone, the aforementioned archway carved into its center. Geri made no such mention of theatrics as we crossed it, arriving at a landing that opened to a starry expanse of emptiness sitting between the grand foyer to our rear and the black sphere pulsing in the far beyond.


    Together, we designed and wove the moons orbiting the Darkroom one by one; going through the process just as the future Legionarres would in order to build the best infrastructure to support them, the Eternal Emperor''s undying angels and living devils.


    On the outermost moon, in the 3rd Reception Phase, we elected to have the recruits arrive during the night to hear a preliminary briefing before being issued basic uniforms. Their first night of sleep would see them rise to a busy schedule that would last throughout the next five days- from an outsider''s perspective. They would perceive much more time, however. In addition to briefings and lessons on ranks; chain of command; parade and drill; and Legion structure, they would be faced with and observed by many of Reina''s children and my devices to build profiles for each recruit. Highly extensive profiles. Their fingerprints would be copied; retinal scans would be archived; visages would be rendered; and their voices would be analyzed; their gaits recorded; dental records would be formed, complete with plans for future treatments or operations. And the same was true for their medical, psychological, and genetic records.


    With the procedure, the moon, and our profiles formed, we moved on to the 4th phase. The Moon of Medicinal Witchcraft. There, the most troublesome aspects of their records would be corrected or outright treated; again, with abilities or devices suitable for their paths. However, we soon decided that all recruits would join them, even if no such ailments were present, as it presented the opportunity to teach basic classes in anatomy, first aid, medicine, and witchcraft. It was also here where they would decide upon their preferred manner of critical healing- Reina''s Life Center, my augmentations, the various divine powers of the Legions, or no such treatments at all, preferring instead traditional witchcraft, medicine, or technology. So too would they decide their preferred domain during this phase- choosing how the GM would guide and watch them during their adventures.


    The recruits would not decide their afterlife in the 4th phase, however. Not yet, at least, for choosing how or even if they would be resurrected, raised, or reincarnated came only with a high enough rank in this meritocracy. However, they would receive the option to change their afterlife preferences with each promotion.


    Despite all that would happen, the phase would only last for a mere eight days from their perspective. Yet, the assessments would continue. The next moon- the 5th Phase, was overseen by Etan. On a particularly dull moon, he designed everything from team exercises to dreams and nightmares meant to assess the recruits'' mental stability. How they led others; how they panicked; went off the rails, dealt with stress, or coped with trauma; everything was documented and more, offices were constructed to interview and screen recruits in order to determine their intellectual capabilities, emotional ranges, personality types, morals, and learning styles; all in just 48 hours.


    In the 6th phase, the recruits would spend a tenday gaining an understanding of their current physical capabilities. To accomplish this, we made a variation of the assessment given by the Guild Association; established a means for recruits to pick and begin training in a favored fighting style, armor type, and weapon; and then posted combat drones of various makes throughout the world to teach the recruits how to use and care for their gear.


    The 7th Phase was much the same, albeit with a focus on magic and crafting. On this moon, we devised ways to test recruits in the four requirements. It would start by recording the recruits'' mana tolerance, pores, and wells, as well as their spell casting capabilities in several categories; spell power, range, accuracy, casting versatility, and more, for five days. On the other five days, their knowledge of crafting, alchemy, smelting, forging, and enchanting would be assessed.


    The 8th phase saw their profiles be finalized and initialized on the Net, permitting them to step on the closest moon orbiting the Darkroom. There, they would receive full-body measurements and be granted the opportunity to customize the features and aesthetics of their field gear in favor of their class and abilities. Contrarily, they received extensive classes with their dress uniforms, to teach them how to maintain and repair their gear.


    While that tenday would end with the issuing of their field uniforms, the caveat was the limitations imposed on the gear. Dubbed the ''Locked Set,'' the equipment billeted during this phase was to be made of ordinary materials, plus faerie flax. They''d have no connections to the various networks and boast no enchantments other than what was necessary to survive within the Darkroom; but not thrive. Only when they began their Magic and Martial training would their gear be upgraded to fit the standard suite of enchantments. Only when they graduated would their gear be upgraded to hold Noxweave, connecting them to the networks and permanently tying the pieces to their soul.


    Before any of that, however, they got to feast upon the magical victuals of Sam''s Kitchen, stock up on equipment, and rest as much as they could before their instructors organized them in front of the Darkroom. There, they would straddle the Darkworld''s gate and watch the previous graduates emerge gloriously. Only then, would they cross into the void to begin their training.


    "Alright." I sighed as the cold giddiness faded in the background of my default settings. "The regimen inside is already established. As is the occupational training post-graduation, dubbed the Brain Phase. So, any ideas as to make this the worst place imaginable? I''m going to install a small country of war beasts once we''re in there."


    "Me too. But with my Children." Reina added.


    "I figure sis and I can make the seasons really swing."


    "Or make it gradual." Geri shrugged. "Start really fucking cold and end really fucking hot."


    It took not long to agree upon changing the seasons sequentially with the passing months and agreeing to compete in installing some sort of war machine to terrorize both the inhabitants and the future Legionaries. It was only a matter of finding territories in the ever-shifting environment. A task made all the more difficult by our overlapping niches.


    A task made all the more difficult by the denizens of the Darkroom.


    "As I''ve said," the GM spoke up once the project was realized. "The civilized denizens of the Darkroom are the beings I''ve killed down below, uplifted by those above. The orcs of Kasia, uplifted by Lana. The goblins of Kasia, uplifted by Olga. Those I killed in Nydorden Halls, uplifted by Doyle. Those I killed in Shujen, uplifted by Zaraxus. For several centuries now, they''ve been here, thriving. Growing stronger as we have, waiting for the arrival of my Legionarres, for their curse has left them in a loop of reincarnation. Between my Underworld and this expanse, they cycle like a clock. The denizens who die within are reborn at the start of every month; always.


    "So too, however, has their curse blessed them with arcana. And so too has their curse left them tainted, capable of Usurping Life and Strength from the creatures of their realm. Then they were placed here, in the Darkroom, where one year within equates to one day outside. And here, like anywhere else, they built cities, empires- militant superpowers with the advanced technology I gave them. And now, their sole purpose is to wage an eternal war against those who invade their realm- those who enter the Darkroom.


    "They will show you no mercy. Yet, they cannot steal life from you or anything foreign to the Darkroom. That said, their Usurped energies do not return when they respawn. Thus, they have to regain their strength by Usurping Life from the many lesser creatures, if not their comrades.


    "Thus, it goes without saying." The GM flicked his eyes between us, showing a malicious smile while the incorporeal vines of the divine tree uncoiled to bless us with their sap. "The weakest creatures will be the first ones you face in this War Phase. But don''t let that fool you.


    "Have a reaping revelry."

 357 - Home in War

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    To become one with the Noctis, one had to dwell in darkness. That truth was made apparent with a rapid descent into the black hole. A point of impenetrable night that grew in scale with each passing second, eventually consuming the universe around us until the reality we had known was concentrated into a fine point of light behind us.


    We fell or floated for an indiscriminate time before the ground appeared beneath our feet, pushing back against the proverbial fog to reveal a checkered stoop that stepped down to a truly vast greenhouse. The room was lacking in anything more than a lawn of ankle to knee-high grass that extended for what seemed to be several hundred square meters from the end of the steps, interspaced with a few large puddles and piles of dirt. On the contrary, the astral beams of the arched ceiling were almost incorporeal; being only distinguishable through the nebulae and star clusters they resembled from below.


    Without words, we took the first step, and like the strike of a gong, a deep hum resonated with the chamber before something struck us. We began to shrink with each passing step. Or if not that, the place grew as we descended. Whichever was true was irrelevant at the time, and still so now. The seconds stretched further apart as we approached that dark floor. So too was the drop of each step higher. So high, it eventually became, that the ankle-high grass turned into a field of knee-high plants. Those plants then grow into trees that, after falling down a few more steps, grew to dwarf even the Bodhi Forest. The platform, the plants, and quite horribly, the animals grew to a far larger scale than the short stairs we started from; and, of course, the stairs themselves raised into a sheer cliff once we finally met the bottom.


    When all was said and done, it was hard to tell we were indoors at all. Our landing was a semi-circle of heated stone and burning braziers overlooking the colossal wilderness of the unknown realm.


    Taking the only path found, we penetrated the obvious invitation into the dark forest. It was a trail of stones or perhaps bone illuminated in umbral flames that left the 30-meter strip of land curtained in walls of darkness. But only through one side did those curtains block light, for the night began whispering just moments after we began the journey.


    "Oi! Look bys! Fresh meat!" It was the voice of some type of goblin. Followed closely by the crude laughter of an apparently feral orc.


    "Hur hurr! And veg, it seems. Oi, long ears! Your blood red? Or is it... like sap?"


    "That''s a good question, really," Reina murmured, scratching herself with her talon before she turned over her shoulder to respond with a surprise. "It''s a bit of both, actually!"


    "Oh, goody! And, look it, we even got some with metal in ''em!" the same orc called. "Tell me, girly, do you bleed?"


    "Well, yeah, but it''s not really blood so¡­" Iris responded without hesitation, and in the same perfunctory tone as her mother.


    "Can''t wait to see what that''s like."


    "Oh?" She perked up and fully turned toward the darkness, smiling while her finger wagged playfully. "It won''t be easy!"


    "Hah! She''s got spunk! They''re spunky. I like ''em! Can''t wait to kill ''em. An'' I''m gonna kill ''em good, I am! Especially that darkie."


    "I beg your pardon?" I scowled.


    "You heard me, skinny. Come and kill me if you''re that mad about it. Wahahahaha! If you can! Wahahaha!"


    "Not only did you make them smarter, you made them speciesists as well. Excellent."


    "Oh, no," Amun''s sourceless snicker echoed. "They''ve always been speciesists. The vast majority of mortals seem to be. At least in the realms I''ve been to. Not without reason, though."


    The taunts and heckles continued on for several minutes; for several minutes more, they were met with a range of reactions. Menacing growls and outright threats. Vile promises and crude humor alike. As well as silence.


    Silence, that was not truly found until we arrived at the end of our path, wherein not even the wind dared howl over our microscopic territory. A rudimentary camp of a large tree leaning atop a boulder for barracks; relatively large foxholes for a mess hall and aid station; and logs for classrooms, all spread across a circle, 150 meters in radius.


    "Welcome to the War Phase." Amun declared as he appeared before us in a plume of gilded black feathers. "Until this phase ends, you will have no access to your dimensional storage, you can use no undead, and you cannot use your Doppelgangers. Anything you wish to use or eat will have to be created or killed with your own hands. Simultaneously, you may only rely on your physical abilities, manipulation, and mana molding. Your magic and sorcery will be effectively useless, save the ability to Usurp Life and Strength from those you fell. Aside from that, you''ll have a four-hour window of peace each day. I would advise you to spend that time fortifying the compound, for this is the place you must protect.


    "Your four hours begins now."


    It was quite the sight. Seeing the results of everyone''s training. Hardly any words needed to be exchanged between the Troupe and their subordinates. Freki took his pack of over fifty to hack away at the surrounding canopy of colossal branches while Geri''s pack provided overwatch and did some scouting to produce a crude map of our surroundings. The tons of falling timber fell to be taken by the Mafia and Iris'' extensive family to be used for a perimeter wall or below ground. Throughout our short time of peace, they constructed a framework of concentric rings and rooms furnished with the necessities. Likewise, Reina led a group of humans in filling the frames and lining the floors in dirt and stone, compacted to the maximum. Even then, others were at work with the perimeter, constructing moats, traps, obstacles, and funnels that led to the nine open arches in the wall. Each was 4.72 meters in width and length. Each was a kill zone for a Troupe member and their subordinates. Each held a backdoor leading to a second, larger alcove where one could recover and be healed by Amun in exchange for rigorous physical training.


    Using only our physical abilities, that was as far as we got until the distant rumbling of a goblin horde caught our attention. I know not how the others fared. Within my kill zone, however, I had the astral goblin Rimoire positioned behind an embrasure above the entryway. From there, he began firing his rudimentary crossbow at the unceasing swarm before they had a chance to enter.


    No matter how many bolts he rained on the enemy, the never-ending onslaught of goblins streamed into the alcove to face the astral ogre, Ginku; a paragon of her kind, like all the others in my party, boasting a denser frame and higher intelligence. With her poised at the entrance, she killed and absorbed the life energies of her foes to bring her constitution to truly monstrous heights within hours. Turr, the bearbug, was constantly moving about the flanks, occasionally alternating between his monastic kills and ranging practices to ensure the swarm stayed within the zones of control. On the contrary to Ginku, strength was his aim, as it made his hit-and-run tactics all the more successful.


    As for me, I was behind Ginku, tending to any who managed to make it past the aforementioned three, while Tacnan Gemeye and Glok the hobgoblin supported me from the rear. We were of similar minds, the three of us, as we all split our spoils evenly between strength and constitution.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    That was not to say it was easy, however. The battle was never-ending. More like an unceasing tide of bodies than numerous waves of foes. We fought until our arms seemed to be made of lead. On we fought, until blood poured from our alcoves live rivers. On we continued until mounds of dried flesh and mangled corpses forced us to push into the outer yard.


    When the last body fell and an eerie silence crawled across the land twenty hours later, even the undying members of the Troupe wanted to collapse. Yet, there was work to do. Thus, we got to work with brief words exchanged. And yet, things were different this time around. We convened to discuss solutions for the weak points in our line. A list of priorities was made. An extensive blueprint was drawn up. Schedules were organized. Most importantly, bodies were gathered and split between Reina and Leary. But with our abilities stunted for the time being, only Leary could make use of them.


    Around the outer yard, he manipulated the bone to make a massive ribcage that converged at a spine erected from our now-small encampment, effectively creating the framework of a dome. From there, the nine kill zones were pushed out to make the nine War Fields while the alcoves were walled over to make bunkers for the long-range or support types. Meanwhile, Reina took several others to dig extensive burrows beneath the bunkers and recovery rooms to act as storerooms and workshops to aid in the war effort. Or, at least, that was the plan. The second swarm came with a much greater intensity than the first. Not only goblins swarmed us from all sides, but humans arrived from the skies.


    As if they were catapulted from afar, they descended on fabric canopies and crawled across the dome to rain down spells with their rapid-fire wands. The goblins were ignored entirely, spared from their deathly rain so that they could hack at us with wicked glee. Several of our subordinates died and would remain so until the next rest period. And yet, this fight was not as bad as the first. We could Usurp the life energies of those we felled, and we did so readily throughout both battles. But only halfway through the second day did we begin to see any results.


    Some, like Ginku, favored bolstering their constitution, granting them denser bones, tougher skin, and more efficient metabolic processes once they surpassed their plateau. Others like Rimoire- before he died- favored increasing their strength, enabling them to leap across the compound to engage the humans above or shatter the bodies of the goblins below in one fell swoop. Powerful, the ability was. Yet it was not as potent as one would think- and not as potent as a superpowered constitution, as I learned during the third period of rest. The scrapes and bruises that littered my body had healed by the time I finished my meal of berries and dried meat. A meal that was completely digested just a few minutes later, and one that produced no waste in the hours after.


    It was the traits described in one with a constitutional score of 70, according to the Guild Associations. An enormous increase in just two days of endless battle. And yet a paltry sum compared to the thousands of goblins felled. Of course, all of that changed on the dawn of the 3rd day.


    Orcs attacked using a mix of tactics that forced us to cast aside our strategies of old. They too fell from the skies. But not before showering the dome with a shower of flaming stones that broke apart on impact. Even then, others sought to use plant roots to dig beneath us or carve through our fortifications from unseen angles; oftentimes using the goblins or humans to aid or conceal their actions.


    Such prowess led to their downfall, however, for the strength they showed made them prime targets for all of us. Not just because of the danger they posed, but because of the fuel they used to impose it. Their life force was among the densest, but not particularly the richest. Thus, it was midday when the crude goblin weapons started to bounce harmlessly off my skin, which had grown exceptionally thick as a result of the constant improvements. Likewise, I found myself capable of blocking orcish axes and hammers without damaging my bones. Yet the adamantine arrowheads of the humans still hit home.


    By peacetime, the infernos born from orcish artillery seemed to lower in intensity and the minor wounds inflicted upon me healed as we went about the compound, assessing the damage and making repairs. Repairs that were torn down on the dawn of the 4th day.


    From a dozen hills away, the dwarves launched their barrage of explosives and foul chemicals. On trajectories high and low, they sailed, impacting to break apart our dome like a fast rock through a window. It took less than a minute of being bombarded to turn our focus away from maintenance and repair in favor of digging in.


    We dug for half the day. For half of the day, the dwarves bombarded our position, giving the humans, goblins, and orcs half a day to stage, prepare, and sap their way into our compound.


    Smaller explosions popped off just before the last shell exploded. Again, from the dwarves and their long-rage wands and spell cannons, providing cover for the humans sweeping across the fields to shower us with adamantine projectiles and rapid-fire spells.


    There was some solace found in them indiscriminately attacking the orcs and goblins this time around. Not that it did much, as these ones held the finesse to deflect the attacks with their adamantine armaments just as much as we did. They didn''t, however, have the means to steal our vital energies as we could. Thus, there came a turning point in each group where one reached the pinnacle of the two physical abilities. For myself, that happened on the 6th day of war. Everything from broken bones to severed arteries was healed, even during combat. Albeit at a slow but noticeable pace.


    That feat birthed a change in tactics. I found myself going on the offensive. I took care to only protect my vitals while I sought to increase my strength, but only for the remainder of that day. Every day after, we agreed to mix our subordinates to create shifts in order to plan and keep the compound in order. And not only that, but to give the undying fiends with no friends a means to recover and work.


    By the end of the 7th day, we began to think all would proceed well. The goblin horde had thinned, and the compound was proceeding along steadily. The droppings of the dead had been recycled and crafted into many tools, weapons, and crude but functional devices while the rest of us spent the day countering artillery barrages with thrown stones mixed with healthy servings of close-quarters engagements. Even the smallest of us competed with orcs in physical strength. Or in many more cases, exceeded them. As for me, I estimated myself to be on par with a vampire in terms of strength; among the weakest in the Troupe, yet it boosted my capabilities just as much as everyone else''s.


    We made plans that night to begin offensive operations. We prepared, feasted, and rested using the scraps taken from our enemies and returned to the line on the dawn of the 8th day to see pure dread waiting at the edge of the fields.


    Every creature on the battlefield was equipped with some sort of hand cannon that collectively spat a wall of adamantine projectiles at near-constant rates. All of them were standing amongst wood, bone, or stone boxes with larger guns that spat even faster; all positioned strategically before batteries of spell cannons. There was nowhere to run from the rapid fire. So fast were those stinging projectiles, that they couldn''t be blocked without the aid of magic. Anything that was not adamantine or mithral- of which we had none- cracked on impact, at best. At worst, they shattered. Leaving one helpless to the hundreds of bullets trailing behind them.


    As fearsome as they were, though, they weren''t as deadly as they were in Amun''s past life. In effect, it was no different from being hit by a fast-moving arrow; something that those who fought against elves were all too accustomed to. Only a lucky shot to the head or heart had the potential to incapacitate. And sometimes only temporarily, given our healing factors. Of course, our enemy knew this. Thus, they upped the scale of battle with each passing day.


    Day 9 opened with ships harbored in waters we couldn''t even see bombarding our position. Simultaneously, airships flew overhead, launching projectiles or dropping bombs on any who dared be caught in the open below. Infantry arrived in lumbering vehicles of the land and sky, protected by crude but powerful ''tanks'' that destroyed more than a few of us on the spot. Even then, we were undaunted. We disabled their vehicles by destroying the ground beneath them with brute force. The remains of the vehicles were thrown at the fleets above. Those of us immune to toxins provided cover while those more agile flanked the emplacements. We recovered what we could. Reverse-engineered and improved whatever we got our hands on. But our enemy was forever more advanced and infinitely more numbered.


    By noon, their reinforcements had arrived. Their vehicles were armored. Their tanks were more maneuverable. The cannons on their ships could reach us from further waters. Their planes flew that much faster and dropped not bombs but mechanical pods filled with infantry wreathed in exoskeletons. Again, we salvaged what we could. Again, they returned at dusk with planes that flew beyond the skies, dropping bombs we couldn''t hope to dodge, deflect, or sometimes even detect. Goblins, orcs, humans, and dwarves alike swarmed in mechanical suits of armor, powered by deadly technology that could rip apart whatever they touched with ease.


    On the 10th day, we saw their ground vehicles hovering across the ground effortlessly while their sea-faring vessels were traded for platforms that fired on us from the distant skies, uncaring of the tech-wand-toting soldiers in power armor. However, we also saw something peculiar. Something only we could see.


    The turning tide.

 358 - Base Builders

    Chako Blude.


    ***


    It took us only ten days to grow into a routine- just a tenday. But the longest ten days of our lives.


    Every second of every minute of every hour times twenty, technologically advanced goblins, orcs, dwarves, and humans attacked us in droves. Their weapons ranged from Neolithic sticks and stones to technological marvels of destruction aided by magic, and they used those killing tools readily.


    The ground forever quaked from our battles, ripping the once-virulent forest around our camp into a benign crater of corpses and debris. Tens of thousands were lost on all four sides. Yet, massive axes and rusted swords still swung hard beneath the blankets of dwarven bullets and human spells. So it was that the nine branches of the Troupe and our staff of 166 sliced and gnawed; ripped and tore; beat and smashed; impaled and brutalized; flurried and pommeled; blasted and cursed; laughed and sang; corrupted and wilted; destroyed and thus created what would become the forge for Noctis Legionnaires.


    Day after day, we fought, blind to the fatigue and pain by virtue of the twin powers we stole from others. Unrestricted abilities that healed each battered torso and restitched every severed artery of those we felled; if only to give us every drop of their usurped vitality. That alone was why we could fall into a routine. Yet it still took ten days. Perhaps it was because that was precisely what Amun required of us. Maybe a result of our constant warring. It couldn''t have merely been the result of something we desired- to reach the limits of strength and constitution. It couldn''t have been because some of us were already there. We Moontouched, the Undying Fiends, and to an extent, the Augmented like Iris.


    Indeed, everyone now held the capacity to heal lethal wounds during combat. Albeit at a relatively slow pace. We all boasted a resistance to natural elemental forces. Our metabolisms had become so efficient we could process natural toxins and sustain ourselves for a month on a week''s worth of food. Our lung capacities were measured in days and our skin was made immune to rapid changes in pressure. All of us, except Amun. Such things were detrimental to his walk toward Death''s Door. And yet, his constitution was far higher than any of ours all the same. Only he could be impaled, brutalized, or disemboweled and yet fight with all his might as if he were healthy. As such, the only thing we could hope to match or surpass him in was strength.


    For now, at least. But I digress.


    Strength. If the power given to us by Amun allowed us to see the Mortal Plane as our playground, the strength taken from our enemies allowed us to use the realms as weapons. That was showcased by the strongest and most ill-mannered of the Troupe, Freki. He swung and threw anything he could grip his clawed fingers around. But the mana he molded while doing so was the intriguing part. Mana projected into whatever we wielded and acted in ways that kept them from breaking under internal forces. Soon enough, we were lifting ships and planes from the ends and carrying them off into the distance, while others covered us with boulders flying at speeds that should have ripped them apart.


    Strength. If the constitution we developed gave us the mind to see the battlefield as our home; the strength we''d grown accustomed to gave us the means to remodel our home as easily as any other. That became apparent by the end of the first week, wherein we nine organized ourselves into party leaders and made plans to make something great of this place.


    Led by one of the Troupe, each group had twenty members chosen at random during the last hour of daily peace and were given a list of tasks to last them throughout the following 20 hours of war. Naturally, the most prevalent of them was the war itself. Yet Leary''s fervor proved it an efficient task, if not an easy one. While his dome of fused bones crawled steadily along a million fingertips behind them, his team hunted everything on the horizon with extreme prejudice. Our lines were pushed forward by several hundred meters per day as a result. By the end of our second week, our meek clearing some 300 meters wide had been transformed into a complex of domes housed beneath a vast bone canopy with a diameter of 157 kilometers.


    With the grounds littered with the dead, it was up to Reina and her crew to go about the battlefield, collecting corpses and weapons and ferrying them off to be recycled. It was the least-anticipated job, as throwing bloodied weapons and armor into the forges was only half of the duty. The other half consisted of ferrying the corpses deep below ground to be dissected and tossed in one of many pits for later use. Contrarily, whatever mess they made was cleaned up by the most-anticipated duty. With Rickley, they spun flywheels to generate power, farmed, gardened, cooked, cleaned, and did all the other things the undead normally did in the background to keep things running. It was the closest thing there was to a vacation in this dump. Not that the work was easy, seeing as we kept piling on more work for them.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Indeed, it was us who not only made the place livable. We constructed the future-proof grounds of the universe''s greatest fighting force. To do so, we formed our territory into the most vulnerable structures to occupy- a deep crater, containing a deep forest. It was roughly 157 kilometers in diameter and held mostly subterranean infrastructure. In most cases, the domes scattered across the surface were merely training fields or accesses to the tunnels and chambers below. Farms, barracks, classrooms, study halls, libraries, cafeterias, and all the other rooms needed for a learning campus; all reinforced with bone, wood, and stone.


    Dubbed the Steepcairn, it would be the place future legionaries lived. On the contrary, the place where they would die was the ring beyond what used to be the War Fields, which was now a jungle of stone and bone. Dubbed the Briarfare, the place where we reached the pinnacle of our physical abilities had since been paved with roads, canals, rails, runways, and trenches that snaked their way towards the bunkers, fortifications, towers, and emplacements sitting before the new War Fields, some 60 to 80 kilometers out from the Cairn''s border. Beneath the Briarfare, however, was where the supporting infrastructure sat unexposed from the destructive elements of nature and war. Each canal had a complimentary shipyard. Each railway had a station, and each runway had a hangar, and each emplacement had a staging area; all linked via intricate tunnels that fed to the mechanical realm Iris spread beneath the Cairn.


    It was there that Iris and her team reverse-engineered the mountains of materials we brought to the home front. In two weeks'' time, not only did they craft weapons and armor for the lot of us, but they made repairs to several captured vehicles and cannibalized enough equipment to make crude but functional surveillance and communications devices. And so too did Wilson''s team endeavor to craft fuels, explosives, and potions in the smog-filled pits within the fourth level.


    In sharp contrast, the new War Fields- renamed the Gloom Ward- began at the outer rim of the bone dome that capped the vast cratered complex. If one took the northern and southern shores and the eastern and western wood lines into account, it was an undeveloped ring somewhere between 186 and 194 kilometers in diameter. In reality, one had to take those borders into effect, as Leary saw fit to raise relatively small fences to mark off the domain of the other three members and their teams. At least for the most part.


    Etan always split his group into two squads. The largest of them remained in Steepcairn to develop and learn new martial and tactical skills to counter our enemies. The other squad always ventured into enemy territory with him to kill or capture high-value targets, steal valuable things, and spy on enemy nations. They never went out blind, however. In many cases, they remained within the boundaries scouted by Geri and her crew. In others, they ensured at least one member of her team was somewhere above to provide support in case things went awry.


    Though we went out often for play, we did so only when the last team descended on our enemies. Freki often left nothing standing; living or otherwise. Thus, it was always easy to move in behind them to build up observation or listening posts, forward bases, or outposts and link them back to the compound, with only the common counter-attack to stand in our way.


    The first of them was initially the staging ground for the reconstructed vehicles that kept mounting up. By the end of the month, it had been named Delphilios and was dead-set on being the locale where legionaries would learn to build, maintain, and then operate the vehicles we''ve all come to know and love. The second sat at the southern edge of the Briarfare and was much the same. For now, the port city of Curdenweld to the south was the launching point for our maritime operations. In the future, though, the relatively small river it sat on would be widened to allow larger ships to venture the several kilometers to sea. More so, it would be where legionaries learned the theories behind shipbuilding before they went on to obtain operator licenses and gain experience in maritime warfare. If they were so interested. Of course, the same was true for those who wanted to fly at the Cloudwalde Air Base in the western sector of the Briarfare. And so too were there courses available at Betham Heights to the north for those who wished to wage war by crafting machinations of destruction.


    It took us a month to finish our complex. Mostly. So too did it take a month for the Mafia to venture through the seas, collecting resources from the seafloor until we learned where we sat in the vast Darkroom, if barely.


    With a few logistical routes created and a paper map of the surrounding environment, we learned of our placement at the center of a land bridge in the Darkroom''s center. To our west and extending south was a vast kingdom of dwarves we knew not the name of. Their territory swept around the southern sea to form a relatively thick fjord at the room''s edge, giving them a sweeping shoreline of ports to launch their fleets of warships at us.


    An equally expansive mega-tribe of goblins sat to our east. And though their vessels were oft too crude to do any damage from the seas and were many times destroyed by the dwarves on the other side of the aforementioned fjord, they performed well as troop transports for their land-based kin. Similarly, the northern hemisphere was split between a truly vast empire of humans toward the west, overlooking an orcish militarized empire scattered across archipelagos and jungles to the east.


    These unnamed nations were our enemies. Yet there was surely more lying in wait beyond the veil. Waiting, perhaps, for the crucible to start so they could join in on the fun. But we were only a month into the Hell Phase. Holding our territory was no longer a challenge for us, so the enemy stopped trying to swarm us in endless waves and instead started using real tactics. On top of that, our territory had grown such that it only needed maintenance to thrive. And so it was decided that the rest of our time at war would be spent on the offensive.


    The Elven Devil''s Troupe would engage in total war.

 359 - Blue Peak

    Geri.


    ***


    Each of us had different ways of handling war. Not ways of coping with the horrors or whatever. Our curses, boons, deals, or what have you got rid of such things. What I meant was how we conducted ourselves during war. Including the separation of work and play. The ways of handling the downtime and the thrill of combat. Coupled with the transitions between. My brother saw fit to stop drinking during times of war. His ability to burn off the alcohol within him aside, the withdrawals he convinced himself to have led to him being agitated and always itching for battle. I spent the time fantasizing about the loot I''d acquire from my runs. As did Reina and the other undying fiends.


    Regardless of the methods, they all worked. The mind was a powerful thing, after all. But only one of our minds was something beyond comprehension. Only Iris and her pack of augmented beings had the most powerful minds. And only Iris had the most unsettling way of handling war. The augmented ones referred to it as a ''program.'' I saw it as a different persona. She was known to all as a cheerful and goofy girl like her adoptive mother. Yet, a powerful and intelligent being who took nothing seriously like her adoptive father. But only when her irises were blue. When her irises were red, Iris acted like the killing machine she was reborn as. She maimed, brutalized, and killed with no remorse, restraint, disgust, or glee. Only a cold drive to destroy every threat in the vicinity with the utmost efficiency.


    Her eyes would return to their blue hue the moment the last enemy fell. At which time, she''d laugh and giggle her way off the battlefield, leaving the loot to her clan. That was the least of it, though. In a way, that was no different from us winter werewolves seeing no distinction between battle and play. Unlike the rest of us, though, she had other ''programs.'' Different personas. More switches.


    How many was the question of the century.


    As far as we were aware, there were at least two others. If she used one to build things was up for debate. The other, however, was something we winter wolves referred to as ''Pack Mode.'' Granted, she performed the role of a general whenever her irises turned black, but General Mode didn''t quite describe the feeling such a small frame imposed on us. In that mode, Iris became like a stern mother who would accept nothing less than what she knew her children could put out. Until now, we were lucky to only hear that voice through transmissions and echoing voice boxes. Now that we were going on the offensive, however, she gathered every ranger in the war room for a briefing.


    Among us was Turr, the Astral Uplifter, as well as the fourteen members of Redd''s pod, several summer wolves, all the winter wolves, and one of Iris'' own. He was an elf with multi-colored eyes and a body that could shift height, weight, skin tone, facial structure, and more at will. One Gaheris Rainer. She treated him no differently than the rest of us, however. Her bulbous black irises shifted between us all, giving us the minds to stand with disciplined focus before her.


    "You are rangers." She declared, pacing across the room. "In the Legions, that means you are intelligence specialists on top of being masters of reconnaissance. You are the vanguard as we explore new realms, disconnected from support as you chart both the cities and the wilds for those who follow. In war, in this Troupe- in our Legion, that means you are the first to strike. Personnel. Infrastructure. Anything deemed important, you will strike from a distance. You will destroy them with swiftness and you will leave before our enemies knew what hit them. In other cases, you may shape the battlefield for those who will fight on it in due time. At most, you will conduct light raids. Expect these things throughout our journey. Both in and outside of the Darkroom. For the next month, however." She trailed off to place five pins on the map, placed just beyond the borders of the War Fields.


    "This month''s priority is to secure five sites," she then said. "One to the north, overlooking the sea. Two to the west, near roads and dwarven settlements too close to our borders for comfort. The same goes for the two near the goblins to the east. Now take these." With a careless toss, Iris sent twenty-one crystal earrings skittering across the table.


    Standing aside for the time being, I studied the crew as they gathered their devices and put them on, linking the trailing string to their voice boxes, trying to match faces with names and abilities until I could delay no longer. When I finally put the earpiece in, I expected some words to appear in my vision as I experienced before, but the only thing to greet me was Iris'' grainy voice buzzing loudly in my ear.


    "While I can see what Gaheris sees, it''s voice-only for the rest of you. Keep the channel clear. Check in every hour. Stay on the lookout for anything that stands out. Geri, what is your plan?"


    Although I wasn''t one for much planning, I approached the map with brief hesitation to point out the southernmost dock. "We''ll stage at Port Curdenweld and head counter-clockwise around the border. First, we''ll scout. Then we''ll make priorities based on what we see, aiming to keep high and out of sight."


    "So be it. Radio in when you leave the line." She nodded, then held her eyes closed for a long moment to do whatever needed doing for them to shift back to blue. "Bye!" she beamed, squeezing my hand one good time before waving us off.


    Unsure if to respond casually or formally, I simply nodded and led my troops on a light jog through the forest. We arrived in Delphilios Court within a few minutes and took a few Meeps down to the port to take inventory of our gear- crude weapons, mostly, and more crude projectiles made from compressed boulders, salvaged cannonballs, and heavy pieces of scrap. Most of them went inside a small storage dome. All we left on our persons were the obligatory tools of the trade plus a long and short-range weapon. And with a word to Iris, we were off, darting from tree to colossal tree until we arrived at the river basin and turned towards the west.


    We spotted our first point of interest naught an hour later; a dwarven tower peaking above a tri-crown of hills just a few dozen kilometers past the War Field''s gates. After calling it in, Gaheris marked it on his mental map and continued, taking flight above the road stretching from the tower''s outer walls to the northwest and came upon a proper outpost some eighty kilometers up the road. Before I could call it in this time, however, Iris chimed in to tell us of our proximity to the first site of our first observation post. Our task then was to mark a suitable location within the hills just beyond the wire for Blude''s team to build up at a later time. In the meantime, we returned to base to update the map with priority targets for later seizure or destruction.


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    The next day saw us stage in Cloudwalde and leave out the western road. Almost immediately, Iris radioed in to have us mark the location of our second base a few hundred meters off the road. Again, we decided upon a hill nestled within a ring of trees some 18 kilometers from the nearest junction. After marking a dwarven settlement further down the road, we continued north around the rim of our territory.


    For more than 160 kilometers, we saw nothing more than rolling hills and sprawling forests until a sudden break in the canopy opened our eyes to a veritable gold mine. It was a field of stone nestled between a fork in the road, on which warehouses and fields of armored vehicles sat lined in neat rows. A motor pool, Iris called it. But I saw it only for what it was. The origin point of those accursed vehicles the dwarves used to torment us. Just over an hour later at the northern shores, we discovered evidence that backed up that assumption- a naval base. One with a vast fleet of squat ships churning around the northern waters.


    The third day saw us explore a peninsula overlooking the northern seas. With the landlocked sides of the landmass well inside our borders, it was midway across the bay from the dwarven naval base and even further from any goblin settlements to the east, making for a virtually empty land in terms of structure or occupational forces. Therein made for a day of planning, preparation, and review. For days, we molded the land in first the peninsula, then in the sites we''d been to already. Materials were stockpiled. Foundations were laid. Roads were paved. Blueprints were drawn. Simultaneously, attack plans were devised, pushing us to place orders for specialized projectiles and munitions for their execution.


    The northern observation post, OP Prean, was formed by the end of the first week of the second month. And to man them, Leary sacrificed two individuals from his daily teams to keep tabs on the dwarven navy. By then, we had returned to scouting around the perimeter, pushing us deep into goblin territory, where we spotted many towns in the distant grasslands. But only one was relatively close to our northeastern borders. It sat just down the main trail leading into our land from the east. Thus, we planned to build an observation post hidden from view by the road and turn the open entry into a checkpoint.


    In the following days, we scouted and surveyed the vast expanse to the east. Hilly and forested, the region was. A perfect place for us winter wolves. But the others among us didn''t agree with the idea of fortifying it. Further south, however, the land evened out and form grasslands that stretched to the southern coast, but a few bouldered outcroppings or cliffs remained scattered throughout the area.


    As we explored, we happened upon a small orc encampment nestled in the depths of a fairly large copse. It was so concealed we were sure we''d have missed it had we''d come upon the place from the south. As hidden as it was, however, it didn''t have much prospects as a base. The rolling hills to the north put the place in a disadvantageous position and to top it off, much work needed to be done to grant a secure line of sight to the fields beyond. With that in mind, we marked the copse for destruction and highlighted a lone hill sitting close by for our last camp, then returned the following days to survey the rest of the southern coast and the waters beyond.


    By the third week, our tasks were complete, rehearsals were done, and our equipment was staged. Thus, we returned to our scattered armories to gather our compressed stones, cannon balls, metal bolts, and anything else heavy enough to wreak havoc.


    With our bags loaded, we took flight from the western gate to turn down the road branching due south. We darted from tree to tree for 60 or perhaps 70 kilometers, waiting until the road below began curving to the southeast before we stopped to split ourselves into two teams. Only a few with high explosives were among the first ten. On, they continued, past the dwarven settlement to form a ring high above the tower. Meanwhile, the rest of us scattered ourselves down the road at ten-kilometer increments.


    "Fire when ready," Came Iris'' call once we were in position.


    "On my mark," I called to my team, trusting their munitions were being aimed high into the sky at the same moment as mine. "Launch!"


    As we practiced, we launched the heaviest of our projectiles at high angles and turned without delay to dig into our oversized satchels to seize the next charge. Several seconds later, we were rearmed and sending more bolts, balls, and boulders flying at a slightly lower angle further down the road. A few seconds later, we launched a third volley at a relatively low angle, midway down our sectors. The last of our projectiles was sent with all of our might almost immediately after, chased by those who threw them.


    I wish I could have seen it- the line of spontaneous destruction that appeared across 110 kilometers of land. But alas, I was part of the destruction. And once I made the call to scatter, all I could do was look upon the things I had made- a dwarven city with roads that led to fields of felled trees, stone, debris, and upturned dirt to both the north and south.


    Our next target was the same day. The town further down the western road formed around a ''T'' junction that trailed off to that armored division to the north. Again, we launched multiple projectiles at various arcs to have them land simultaneously, destroying all roads but that one that led to us. Rather than move on the following day, we remained in the skies for hours, providing overwatch for Freki and his band of barbarians in the now-isolated dwarven cities. Or, as I called it, assisting the hunt.


    Rarely did we throw projectiles at large groups of attacking or fleeing enemies. More often than not, we were communicating where their prey was hiding or guiding them toward the devices they needed to destroy for the rest of them to move on. Rarely, one of us swooped in to assist or even rescue one of them before they met an untimely demise. For most of the time, though, we simply enjoyed the show.


    Again, there was overwatch to be provided while Reina and Blude''s teams arrived to clear the battlefield and unload building materials from their trucks. The latter was mostly collapsible barriers that sprung up into walls ready to be filled with the dirt upturned by the need for a bunker. They formed a perimeter atop the reinforced hill, with a modest network spreading beneath it within a day of tireless work. By the next day, a few more of Leary''s squad had been sacrificed to man the new posts, liberating us to venture across the way to the eastern front. We still had fun there. Yet nothing noteworthy occurred. Walls, watchtowers, and warehouses were destroyed. Farms were burned and wells were poisoned. Then their wounds were left to fester until Freki and his boys decided to go in for the kill.


    At least, that was the plan. As the days progressed- as Freki spun deeper into his placebo withdrawals- his troops cared less and less about collateral damage. A tendency or perhaps a preference that simply would not stand when it came time to assault the final dwarven bases.

 360 - Black Wolf Brigade

    Freki.


    ***


    Our coordination was impressive. The Troupe''s efficiency was unparalleled. Geri would scout the land, Iris would analyze the information. She''d then provide targets, organize them into priorities, and finally distribute orders to the rest of us. Oftentimes, those orders went to Geri, who''d have her wolves strike from the sky while we approached on land to harvest the aftermath. Scanning devices. Turrets. Launchers. Outposts. Warehouses. Bridges, docks, and runways. They destroyed the most worrisome or crippling things with fantastic precision, giving my packs one less thing to worry about once we entered the fray. Not that we had anything to worry about. It was the third month of the War Phase. The enemies we''d slaughtered since we entered had been resurrected twice by now. Albeit without the strength they once possessed.


    After the first month, the invasion dwindled to a war. Now, the war had dwindled to tension and battles forced by us and our need for more equipment and materials. Salvage was not what my summer wolves enjoyed, however. Sadly, the barbarians beneath me were not only summer wolves. Two of them belonged to Iris. Both were rescued from the Mazi-Nevstan border and had no family to speak of. Aqsa Gould was the first of them. A quiet-natured half-orc with limbs capable of shifting into various weapons. The other was a full-blooded orc male with a penchant for destroying defenses. Neither of them had anything to worry about for our coming mission.


    Gwehn of the Orcinus Mafia had behaviors one would expect of an Amazonian. And perhaps she was. Then again, people often said the same about Blude, with the exception of Etan calling her a Gerdian. Regardless, Gwehn and her six subordinates obsessed about feats of physical prowess. Especially in battle, but also out of them. It was often her lot who carried ships and vehicles back to base. No doubt the same would be true today.


    The only other barbarian to be found in the Troupe was Ginku. The paragon ogress was just as massive as she was before, only in a denser frame that boasted much sharper tusks. Under normal circumstances, she was slightly taller than me. Yet she could change her size at will, like any other celestial. And she was absurdly quick, not to mention intelligent. In short, she would have no problems with the task ahead. Unlike us Summer Wolves. We just wanted to be the best boys we were and destroy all there was in sight; to burn, rip, and tear. With a naval base as our target, there was little prospect of that happening. And none of us wanted to face Iris'' wrath again.


    Our zeal in the previous battle cost the Troupe over three-quarters of the vessels at the dwarven motor pool. That alone could have been recycled to upgrade the war room and every base alongside it. But we destroyed the buildings they were manufactured in. We destroyed the roads leading up to the buildings. We even destroyed the rubble. Not to mention the vehicles. As a result, Iris destroyed us. She reprimanded us thoroughly for failing to follow orders. Using mere words, she cut deeper than any blade could, yet uplifted our hearts and minds with the conviction to be better. More importantly, she made me realize what I wanted my brigade to be, and all but forced me to speak to her about it in private.


    There wasn''t enough time, however, to give her my input before the raid on the naval base began. Thus, I spent the time commanding- looking upon my subordinates from afar and directing them towards their goals, leaving them to handle the fine details. Mainly enemy emplacements or the few vehicles the enemy managed to get up and running before Etan''s group stormed in.


    While Etan and his five subordinates were all monks, all nebulous beings, and were all administrative members of his Zed Force. Their mission was the antithesis of ours. They excelled in destroying things at a slow pace and worked not as a group but as individuals. They were fast, not for the sake of violence, but subtlety. They were masters of stealth, remaining unseen without the need to hide while they ambushed, sabotaged, seized, and raided.


    This raid was no different. Only their effect could be seen on the battlefield. Not them. An enemy tank would start up and lose control. One of my men would find random platoons of slaughtered enemy troops. Piles of weapons and equipment would be waiting at our rendezvous points. Fires and smoke in the distance would signal one thing or another. The organization was as secretive as its administrator. A being I''ve come to deeply respect, for I remembered Etan Za''Darmondiel as he was in Nydorden Halls. Oppressed like every other male of his kind. Shackled from birth in the same way as me and my sister- to be burdened by expectations and molded into someone he was not.


    Like us, he never forsook himself. Even if he had to bury it behind a mask of placidity, he retained the values and convictions that arose from his life experiences. Not by the influence of someone''s demands or teachings, but by his own volition.


    The other being I revered as much- besides the obvious- was the one I went to see after the operation. Slash that, General Iris was the one we all went to see once the mission was complete. Every mission. Amun raised her well. She was a masterful fighter, a genius strategist, and an excellent leader, to be sure. Yet it was her separation of work and play that made me respect her the most. No matter how harshly she would reprimand us, we knew almost instinctually that it was just business. That there was no malice in her words. Only a requirement for us to do better. To be better. Even if we had to take her guiding hand to make it so.


    For that reason, we sought her out before the others arrived. Yet it seemed she was expecting us. All the Troupe''s branches were present. Crowded around both Iris and their map.


    "Before we begin," she turned her nightly eyes to me and the summer wolves. "Freki, I understand you prefer to destroy all on the battlefield, leaving nothing standing, yes?"


    I raised my hands to my sternum, touching my second knuckles over my sternum, and lowered my head in salute. "Yes, General. I understand I train among others now. Diversifying the skill set. However, the purpose of the Black Wolf Brigade is to destroy. We leave nothing intact."


    "Now and forevermore?" was all she asked as she stared deep into my eyes.


    "Yes, General." I nodded.


    "Then so it is." She returned the salute. "Now and forevermore, each member of the Black Wolf Brigade will be given the designation: Celestial Drop Shock Trooper. You are a fast attack, assured destruction, fire and forget force. Something to be deployed when a place needs to be turned to slag and glass the moment the order is given. As it stands, there are many such places. One month of the War Phase remains." She began pacing, looking at the others as she continued. "Yet, our lands are secure. Our lands have been secure for over a month. No longer does the enemy come to us to fight. No longer does the enemy have eyes on us. One month of war remains. Yet, total war has yet to end.


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    "And so, the invasions begin." Iris declared, pointing at the wall that had been sacrificed to make a floor-to-ceiling screen depicting a digital map that evolved with our discoveries. As of now, everything of interest within 1,450 kilometers was highlighted. Including the capitals of three out of four nations.


    "However," Iris continued, snapping our eyes back to her small frame, "we are in the Darkroom still. In our first month, we learned to operate defensively. In our second, we learned to operate offensively. Now, we train in disjointed warfare. Where you go, who you fight, how you will fight them. These things will be decided by you as you lead your troops to destroy our enemies. Since our arrival, we''ve learned a few of their names. To the west is the Braraulia Kingdom, she said, pointing to the southern end of an inland sea. "Its capital is seven hundred fourteen kilometers from here. Celola, with an estimated population of forty-four thousand. This strip of land to the eastern sea is their Protectorate."


    Refocusing the map to the sea south of our position highlighted a region that extended beyond the regions explored. Like Bakewia to Vruria, it was much smaller and seemed to be much more prosperous, making it a prime target to raid. Sadly, however. "This region has been marked as a priority for my and Etan''s units." As quickly as she said the words, she shifted the map across the channel to highlight the eastern shore and the landmass to the direct east of our compound. "This is the Bugdilk Dominion. Five hundred eight thousand square kilometers of goblin country. And their capital, Stiag, is here, six hundred forty-four kilometers from our location."


    "That one is mine!" Leary glared at the point beyond Iris'' finger, a city on the shores of a vast lake that bordered the territory of some other nation.


    Iris only nodded and shifted the map across the northern sea to showcase a vast continent of rolling hills, with a mountain range running through it from southeast to northwest. "Last, there is the human Empire of Freysia. We know not where their capital is. Only that all but a few of their cities sit at low altitudes."


    "We will find them," Geri said to her.


    Then I stepped in. "And when they''re found, we''ll wreak havoc. In the meantime, we will lay roads of ash and glass across these Freysians."


    With everything settled, we dispersed and went about our business, trusting in each other to get the work done with little to no supervision; though we all remained in communication. For the Brigade, our preparations saw us venture to the sublevels of the Steepcairn to devise some payloads of my design. Fire Seeders. A canister that equaled my height while sitting on a tripod, 3.6 meters by 3 meters. In my worlds, they were used to seed continents. Mere days were needed to make the modifications needed to stock them with explosives, munitions, and whatever other machinations Iris'' crew devised.


    We spent those days rehearsing and in revelry. We planned and partied for our upcoming hunt, then relocated to Delphilios Court to load our canisters into the cargo airships and take part in a final revelry that lasted until nightfall.


    It was a revelry without ale or meat. A ringed revelry, it was. One of howling werewolves, planning and plotting the demise of our enemies. Into eight packs of six wolves, we formed and split ourselves into the massive metal birds, save the pack of bards who remained at camp to provide any needed support from afar. While the other airships had room to spare, in mine were Marcel, Troy, Serge, Orion, and Caesar, plus the six canisters that went unused by the home party. To the northwestern skies we all sailed, watching the Orcinus Mafia paint the seas red beneath us for some 377 kilometers until the first airship turned towards the northeast.


    Six ports were scattered across the coast. Six wolves descended upon them each. The second and third airships went into action shortly after. One banked to run parallel to the first ship and drop six wolves carrying tons of explosives upon six cities scattered across endless grasslands. The other banked to a sprawl of cities straddling the base of a mountain range. The rest of us continued over the range for nearly 500 kilometers before we saw anything of note. First, it was the coast. And with the coast came a scattering of prey-filled cities. Two packs went north to bring fire to the tundras and melt the glaciers near the coast. The next pack took to the southwest to rain fire on the six lakeside cities before they rendezvoused at the seventh settlement.


    The rest of us turned southwest toward the forested bay in the southwestern-most region of the Freysian Empire. Onto the three larger cities dropped Marcel, Troy, and Serge with two canisters each. They were among the larger and stronger members of the pack, easily capable of handling ten thousand or so standard humans, given enough time. In turn, Orion and Caesar were freed to spare their munitions on the less-populated cities, bringing my count to six.


    I did not wait for Orion and Caesar to rendezvous, however. Nor did I dive into battle headfirst, as I would have before. I took the yoke once Caesar took the dive and finalized my plans while I came upon the city from the south, studying the clustered groupings of towers from above. When the city finally loomed below me, I ascended. Up like an arrow, the metal bird flew on until it could fly no more, wherein all but one payload was released. Out the posterior ramp, they tumbled; chased and pushed forward by me, even in freefall.


    Carefully, they were coaxed away from the airship plummeting behind us and veered toward the various regions or districts. One toward the docks and three around the surrounding forests to seal off the perimeter. One toward the tallest structure at the city center to weather it down before the plane descended upon the remains; and the last at what appeared to be a transportation center just south of the castle.


    Methodically, they were primed and thrown toward their targets at speeds that forced the winds to whistle. But our altitude was high. Their time until impact was plentiful, yet they acted fast. Mechanisms within the canister caused the entire thing to rotate and blast off its cover to reveal 6 bands of 32 cluster bombs. With so many, they were undoubtedly small. Yet the punch Wilson packed into them impressed even us. Three bands contained high explosives that blasted the area with steel and adamantine pellets. The other three bands, on the other hand, were filled with white phosphorous.


    They struck with little to no warning. Both those in the city''s outskirts and the city center were shaken from their to the core as their emplacements, homes, and structures blasted apart, erupting into great conflagrations before aftershocks blasted them apart, sending a scorching rain falling on the survivors.


    The bombardment bracketed the enemy between the ring of destructive fire at the city''s walls and the pillar of molten debris at the city center, pushing them into a kill box that forced them to look at the falling plane in despair. But among the wreckage and debris was a figure of half-lupine form refusing the urges to rip and tear with his burning claws and scorched fangs.


    As I''ve practiced over the years, I embraced the primal side without allowing it to muddle my mind, enabling me to take the time to notice the trolley network spread across the city, and more, to grab the rails and run around my kill zone like a child at play.


    I stopped neither for the rails turning off in different directions nor for the walls standing in my way. I pulled with all my might until the rails either snapped or broke whatever was holding them in place. I stopped not once a wall of arcane steel and spiked balls of ice rose at the end of my kill zone. I did not stop once the tanks and cannons lined before that wall let loose.


    I would not stop. Nor would I toy with my prey. Not against these foes or any other could I afford to give nothing less than my unbridled fury. For that was all the Black Wolf Brigade had to offer to those we fell upon.

 361 - Re:Armed

    Wilson Koorb.


    ***


    The last month of the War Phase was different for everyone, yet everyone did the same thing. Leary laid waste to the vast expanse on our eastern end and became the scourge of the Bugdilk Dominion. Then, he continued due east and entered the Grand Duchy of Pyreaz to test his strength against the technologically advanced orcs. Reina ventured undetected past both the Bugdilk Dominion and the tech goblins of the Grand Duchy of Kas to enter the inland sea of the Oim Kingdom. She found a small island and made it more inhabitable than it was, then spread that pestilence to the lands and sea around her.


    Rickley mostly went around terrorizing people with music. Although occasionally she''d allow herself to be ''defeated'' and ''captured'' by the enemy. The dwarves would often place her on a pyre to burn at the stake. Orcs would put her on a rotisserie and lather her up with oils and spices. Goblins would just attempt to butcher her on the spot. The humans would take what they could, realizing it would be moot to torture or interrogate her. In all cases, Rickley would wait until the most opportune time to slaughter them all and steal their treasures.


    I doubted even Iris was privy to the things Etan did. We never saw his operations. He never spoke about them and we didn''t ask. We only saw the results. Mostly. At first, problems would surface and subsequently disappear. In time, problems just¡­ stopped coming, yet his library kept growing.


    Freki burned everything to ash and melted the rest to slag, becoming a walking natural disaster. Geri froze everything in sight and took the most valuable things she could find. Blude conquered the northern and southern seas. Iris reverse-engineered technology from our enemies to keep us connected, equipped, and updated with information; yet still took the time to wreak havoc on our neighbors. And Amun¡­ Amun just watched.


    He was here the entire time. In spirit, he was always with us- every Eomen and Legionnaire. Whether they had the wisdom to discern him was another story, but of course, we could see him. He''d often be a few ways away, gazing at something intently; or we''d hear him snickering behind us while we were talking. Yet, he was occasionally with us in the flesh, always hidden so the enemy wouldn''t react to his presence. With the changing of the seasons, though, his spiritual essence disappeared entirely. Replacing it was Iris'' recall to Delphilios Court. That was it. No other information was provided, but we knew what was what. Our slain enemies had resurrected. Despite our enemy''s restocked numbers, however, they seemed to prefer cursing my name while they cleared their lands of deathly fumes instead of attacking me as I passed. That could only mean one thing. The War Phase was over.


    Within half an hour, everyone was scattered around the domed complex of wheel yards and hangars; and all of us stared greedily at the mountains of materials, equipment, and vessels piled around the place. Even Amun. But of course, he had something to say.


    "Congratulations! The War Phase is over. And with its end comes our closing lesson." He raised his finger, smiling at the look of dreaded excitement present on all our faces. "My position in combat will vary depending on the strength of our opponents and the situation in question- the realm we''re in, their technological and magical levels, and whatever local goals we have in mind. Essentially, the stronger ones who make it past the undead fodder will be your responsibility while I play the role of the Mastermind. Specifically, the Masterful Tactician. My perks will allow me to Assist you from afar in bountiful ways and deal extra damage to attacks made to unaware targets." He teasingly raised his brows.


    "Those who preoccupy or even make it past you¡­" he paused, tossing his head around in contemplation before shrugging carelessly. "I''ll probably wind up using one of my toys. But if not!" He grinned at us after his short ramble and wagged his finger. "Only then will I fight as a monk. That is not only because it''s no fun to fight the weak, but because my blood can and will change the surrounding realms without my control, as we saw below. But I digress."


    Casually waving the serious matter aside as he often did, he began pacing. "The War Phase is over. Normally, recruits would continue onto the Magic and Martial Training and Battle Drill phases. Since you''ve done those things prior to your arrival, these phases will be of Creation and Exploration. Now, first things first."


    With a wave of his hand, I felt a surge of fire and ice; acid and hot oil- power cascade into my moderately sized frame. Not power gifted from him - at least not in this instance. It was the power we developed prior to our coming here. Our sorcerous and warlock abilities, our newfound magical affinities, and more.


    "Ahh. It''s good to be back. Eh, Willy?" The voice echoed in my mind in a way that seemed to spawn my long-lost finger. Flexing it, hearing those words and more, seeing the holographic projections of NoxNet in my vision made me realize how much I missed them all over the last few months.


    However¡­ ''Never call me that again, Bom.''


    Both the Book of Madness and Amun snickered. Seemingly for different reasons. But perhaps not.


    "I assume you''ve theorized many spells for your affinities throughout your time at war," Amun continued. "War is the mother of all inventions, after all. But I hope magic isn''t the extent of your designs, for we have weapons, we have undead, and we have Umas in need of upgrading and tailoring to our abilities. So, after we get these crystals primed, how about we do a brief show and tell?"


    We all ran forward like the little children we were. Hours. Days. We cared not how long we spent priming enchantments; comparing the materials, components, and tools native to our woven worlds; redesigning our equipment in various corners of the court and showcasing our results across the net.


    The hardest working among us during that time was one of Iris'' companions. Of course, we all worked hard to upgrade our and eventually the Legions and the Empire''s lineup of equipment. Kai, however, had to prime the most enchantments, infuse the most Arcanites, and design the most things to work with her truly revolutionary affinity for Size Magic.


    Leading by example, Amun was the first to upgrade his many fantastic things. Even though we could have witnessed the process from afar using the Net, many of us took a brief break to see it in person, for there was at least one item out of the six that none of us had laid eyes on before. The first two were his newer creations. The legendary weapons he created shortly after his debut as a Grandmaster Artificer. While the Zodiac Crossbow put him one step further down the path of the Grandmaster Artificer, the Gamma Net was the only legendary weapon in his arsenal. At least, that was my opinion, for it was so powerful, Amun could hardly use it on the Mortal Plane.


    That bore the need for him to grasp the tool of destruction in hand and pour his divine energy through the conduits spread across his body, blessing it with the deep blue essence of the ArcaTech to give it the gift of creation.


    Despite the legends spreading from Shujen, the Zeus Pillars were not considered legendary weapons. At least not until the three-sectioned staff was Upgraded with a size enchantment to allow the thing to be worn as an earring, then blessed with the essence of the World Weaver to give the tungsten pellets it ejected the ability to weave worlds, spread seas, temper storms, and more. After renaming his prized weapon the Arms of Atlas, he showed us the gear he received as a young Marulean royal, starting with the robes he was often seen wearing. Rather than enchant them or infuse them with anything new, however, he activated his perks and coupled them with the latent energies of his divine realm to Replicate them; even the magical ones. Yet, even then, the copies were hardly enchanted or infused with anything new.


    His robe''s design was changed to have the same quilted pattern as his official guild wear. Otherwise, it was Upgraded with the same Biogold, Screening Silver, and Noxweave present in everyone else''s uniforms. He did, however, bless the garb with the ArcaTech''s essence to make the gear modular; capable of shifting to fit any environment. And he fashioned a pair of sunglasses, enchanted with the same FleshTech device Zaraxus used to discard and reform his flesh. Then came the most impressive weapon in my eyes.


    The Shadowsteel Reaper had to be someone''s magnum opus. It was a pristine slashing spear made from stone-mammoth ivory and wood from the Necro King''s divine tree, fashioned with an adamantine blade wrapped in a collar of gold-dusted night ave quills. The hilt was mechanical, allowing it to bend like a reaper''s scythe when infused with the Nox''s necromancy.


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    Like the Arms of Atlas, the true Reaper was given a size enchantment so it could be worn as an earring while its replica was fabricated with Arcanites fueled with Gravity and the Dark and Death variants of Electromagnetic and Space-Time magics, infused into the haft, blade, pommel, and collar at the molecular level. Thus turning a powerful weapon into a natural receiver and transmitter, as well as a powerful electromagnet, a necrotic lightning bolt in spear form.


    A blessing from the Owl and some increased capabilities via some ArcaTech essence evolved the replica into the Nebulous Reaper. But the favorite weapon of Iris, Reina, Rickley, Leary, and even Etan was what became of the Shade Splitters'' replica. The originals were made from the same material as the Shadowsteel Reaper, minus the divine tree wood, while its replica was the opposite, given we possessed no stone mammoth ivory. Regardless, they were reconstructed with Arcanites like the Nebulous Reaper. Those Arcanites contained many more affinities, however. Iris'' Molecular and Mana affinities; Reina''s Life and Flesh; the Bone affinity of his father; my Chemical affinity; Amun''s Darkness, Death, Space-Time, Electromagnetic, and even Nuclear affinities; then, blessed by the Eternal Champion, the blades became the Soul Splitters.


    Instead of vitality, the enchantments were redesigned to absorb mana from those whose flesh it carved, and so too could it absorb the molecules of whatever inorganic materials it cut into. Both were stockpiled within the handles, as was the soul of whosoever died by their blades, giving Amun the freedom to send them to his paradise or pit. As for the body, that was free to be carved into whatever Amun wished it to be. An Undying Machine or just an undead or a machine. A Fiendish Fae or just a fiend, perhaps even a Fae. Paragons, imbued with fresh life. A new being entirely. Whatever Amun decided, the Soul Splitters would take or make. All it took was a cut.


    Great though each of these legendary items were, the last item was the one Amun was the most excited for, as it was the one thing he was both forced to have and could not use - a hulking set of armor built undoubtedly for a paladin. In his words, it was meant to babysit the development of his necrotic strength. Yet he never liked the armor and thus didn''t wear it. He couldn''t wear it once he devoted himself to becoming a monk, but it was tied to his soul all the same. To complicate matters, he couldn''t and wouldn''t sever it from his soul; for it was a family heirloom.


    What he could do, however, was what he did before and Replicate the armor, then Upgrade the replication into proper power armor with Deathly and Dark Electromagnetism coupled with Spatial mana infused into its mithral. He redesigned the gauntlets with Dimensionite before blessing the entire thing with both his Engineering and Mana domains; one to connect it to our tech and infrastructure and the other to corrupt and evolve whoever would be chosen to become the Abyssal Hulk into a paragon of their kind.


    It was no surprise that the Tech Goddess completed her upgrades just minutes after Amun completed his demonstration. I was already back in my hangar, but I heard and saw it appear through the Net as a deep warbling sound accompanied a small vortex of blue mana- her warp magic. What it warped to her was an oversized parasol, of all things. It was heavy and overbearing, standing a head taller than her when planted in the ground, with no canvas to speak of; for having canvas would only cause Gamp Daedalus to oscillate uncontrollably when she put the inline rotor into action.


    Actuators small and large were riddled throughout the folding mechanisms, which had been fashioned with blades to permit her flight at the cost of an atrociously loud thumping noise. It was essentially a stick with eight actuating arms that collectively wanted to be a parasol, but their wielder kept forcing them to operate independently or sometimes come together as an oddly shaped spear or perhaps a lance. After infusing it with her magical abilities and the affinities of several throughout the Empire, it was much the same. Albeit slimmer and much quieter- silent whilst in flight.


    Mithral ball bearings were infused with her Rotational Magic, then soaked in Porous Lube to replace the rotor. An enchantment of sound didn''t render the chopping noise of the spinning blades mute, it only reduced the distance the sound traveled to a few meters. The infusion of her Molecular Magic into the blades let her reform them into hooks or clubs or whatever else she could imagine. And of course, the infusion of Kai''s Size Magic allowed the Gamp to be worn like an earring, just like Amun''s spear and 3-sectioned staff.


    The true beauty, however, was the weapon she made from scratch. Demowood was a semi-sentient hardwood that could ''eat'' materials. Metals, ceramics, and even organics could be absorbed by the grains and integrated into the structure to increase their functionality. A support beam could ''eat'' some metals and glass to create a light for itself. Or a stick could do the same with some string to become a bow. Such was the case when Iris took a fleet of Arcanites and a stick of Demowood to infuse her tiara with all of her magical and sorcerous abilities. Initially, only her molecular magic and Technomancy noticeably influenced the materials. As it normally would have, the stick ate some Dimensionite, Biogold, Attosilk, and several augmented leathers, ceramics, and fibers from her world before she allowed it to ''consume'' her tiara.


    Unlike it normally would, the change came instantly.


    The same warbling blue mana saw it disappear and reform on Iris'' head. Then it warbled again, warping to her palm as an elaborate compound bow with magical features segregated into different parts - the sight with her Warp Magic to give her arrows an indefinite range; the bow with Mana and Necromancy to infuse them with any power; the bowstring with Molecular Magic and Technomancy to fabricate arrows with each draw. She called it Apollo''s Rein. An action that gave birth to a naming convention across the Troupe that made Amun quite vexed, much to our amusement.


    Blude completed her equipment shortly after. She and the other matriarchs of the Mafia had tridents and daggers made of aluminum bronze- a biostatic material resistant to the corrosion of seawater and their favorite metal. All the Mafia''s equipment was almost exclusively made of the stuff infused with their divine and arcane magics. Their hilts were wrapped in the kelp of their matriarch just as their blades were sheathed in her coral. The three prongs of each of their tridents held their sorcerously divine water, steam, and ice; enabling them, above all, to behave like liquid and reform as Dimensionite would.


    Into an elaborate headdress, Blude shaped her trident and declared it to be the Crown of Orcus. A flowing necktie of pale gold and blue-green, she formed from her dagger and named it the Scale of Hades. Into bracelets of coral gems and silky metal, she made her spiked knuckle dusters and called them Pluto''s Mitts, turning them into coral-spiked gloves that were pulled on as her bracelets came off.


    Sam was the first to have her gear infused with the magic of another. But it was not her trident. The Diadem of Dis Pater was infused with all of her abilities, turning it into a metallic chef''s hat that could vent both divine and regular steam without end. It was her divine knives and other weapon that were infused with other magics. She had a full set of fighting needles and shards infused with her powers plus Warp and Spatial mana to give her control and assurance once they- the Bolts of Taranis were inevitably thrown; enabling her to put them back in their place within her bracelets. Her chosen weapon, however, was the Helve of Soranus. A Demowood handle-turned necktie, capped in their divine aluminum bronze secured in place with a Dimensionite ring, allowing it to shift into any cooking implement or weapon she pleased. Which, in her case, was the same thing.


    Redd followed Sam''s lead. Although to a much lesser extent. Her trident, Poseidon''s Crest, was infused with her current mana and Iris'' Technomancy to give the metallic hood the weapon reformed into a means of propulsion. Ullr''s Grip, her harpoon gun, on the other hand, was imbued with Dimensionite, both her affinities, and Iris'' Molecular mana and Technomancy to give her the means to fabricate ammunition and store the weapon as a necktie. Meanwhile, her Neptunian Net was made from Attosilk, Dimensionite, and aluminum bronze, enabling it to stretch, move autonomously, and form a flowing cape when not in use.


    Sadly, though, that was the extent of anything marvelous. Due in no small part to me. I had Bom. My middle finger was my wand, and my adamantine skeleton was blessed by the ArcaTech to be free of the metal''s ferromagnetic properties. To top it off, a hand crossbow, a shield, and a blade existed within my skeletal forearm. I needed nothing more.


    Geri needed nothing more than her claws and teeth, paired with a compound bow and a sling attached to the bottom of a spear, infused with her celestial sorcery. As all she wanted was to slice or beat things up close, shoot springtime and winter arrows at things from afar, and launch comets at her targets from even greater distances. Freki needed nothing more than his claws and teeth paired with an adamantine cannonball and a glaive infused with his celestial sorcery coupled with Ed Pascal''s Tungsten and Smoke Magic; as all he wanted was to do was rip and tear into everything in sight, decimate whatever didn''t fit his grotesque palette, and skewer whatever was too big to bite.


    Etan needed nothing more than his body because¡­ well, he was a monk. Yet he made throwing darts, ball bearings, a second hand crossbow, and fighting needles infused with his eclectic power all the same.


    Rickley needed nothing more than the instruments on and in her person. Yet she made one more. A technological marvel that held all the sounds of a band and more in a device that fit around her neck. The Eigenharp.


    Reina needed nothing more than the Staff and Cowl of Aves Rex and the Featherfall Bow she arrived with; for they had long since been legendary items, woven with the wood of the divine; and her brood was her weapon, her undead, her citizens, her children; and more.


    As for Leary. Well, there was no weapon the Goblin God-Emperor ever needed to build, for the Elven Devil made Leary into a living weapon.


    His living weapon.

 362 - Civilized. Civil Eyes. Civil Lies.

    Rickley Ravenbrook.


    ***


    A brief vacation was in order after upgrading our gear. The work was arduous but fun, not to mention quick, only taking a few days to upgrade our things and a week more to upgrade the Empire''s equipment. Close to three weeks got us acquainted with our new tools in the field. The rest of the next month was spent sprucing up the Steepcairn. And more, performance reviews of our time in war were given both individually and as a group. Therein we learned of the other side of our dutiful coin: our duties as the highest-ranking Legionairres of the Nox. However, it was that first part that made a lot of work for little ole me.


    The work was not in planning, though. Establishing the most efficient layout and all the city planning madness was a job for Blude''s Orcinus Mafia. The work was not in construction either. Filling the bone halls with flesh and petrified wood was Reina''s responsibility. Nor was it my job to integrate and connect everything to the networks. That was a job for Iris and her mechanical minions. I was the Eldest Grave Keeper. A job with a dual purpose. It was I who was in charge of the Legions'' civil-military operations. It was my job to ensure our lands were pleasant, welcome, and lovely to locals and foreigners alike. So too was it my job to bury the dead. It was I who was to ensure they rested well. And it was I who would hear the dead''s tales.


    Here, in the Darkroom, though, things were different. Twelve nations had a permanent existence here. Only three were friendly, and they dwelled in the furthest corners of this realm. Likewise, those who would enter the room would come here as neither tourists nor refugees. They would come here as explorers. Thus, it was my job to redesign the Steepcairn to give the future cadre a means to be ''friendly'' with the recruits and, later, the locals. Thus, by extension, it was my job to ensure those who died within this room would awaken most efficiently, but not for free.


    While everyone in the Troupe assisted with the endeavor, it was a job that required the Abyssal Regent, the Noctis Marshal, and the Praefectus Noctis'' assistance.


    As the Abyssal Regent, Etan was somewhat of a Chief of Staff mixed with a Defense Secretary. Among other things, he was responsible for creating, maintaining, and revising various policies, training operations, developmental programs, readiness standards, and so on. He was essentially the senior authority on discipline. And, to a certain extent, his jurisdiction included the likes of Amun.


    As the Noctis Marshal, Leary was the highest-ranking non-commissioned officer in the Legions- a position reserved for the undead and those who refused the eternal pledge. Indirectly, he would lead every recruit to enter and subsequently graduate from the Darkroom. As such, Leary was all but obsessed with ensuring his future troops would exceed both his and Etan''s expectations long after they graduated. More than that, he worked with the Regent to ensure those who became higher-ranked NCOs would be far more hardened and experienced than their commissioned counterparts.


    As Praefectus Noctis, Iris Cole was not in a commanding position, as one would expect of a military general. She was an indirect commander, a master of stratagem and logistics combined with an administrator of communications, networks, and IT, who constantly analyzed every square meter of land beneath our umbrella via her digital ''Game.'' Beneath her gaze, points of interest were prioritized, analyzed, and marked for any relevant tasks before being distributed to Legions'' generals as requests in peacetime or orders in wartime.


    As one, those three redesigned the schedule within the Darkroom, effective the moment we left. Many phases remained the same, though. It was their conditions that were reversed. Rather than start in a mana-starved environment, the recruits would enter a realm of arcana that would drain to mist-density mana come time for the crucible. Rather than lock their abilities during the War Phase, the recruits would be free to experiment with their new powers, then lose them when they needed to use them the most. So too was the conflict dialed down, yet the conditions were worsened. War would begin with bombardments and invasions, but no longer would the battles be forced to last for twenty hours, every day, for three months. Instead, the battles would not cease until the enemy either withdrew or was annihilated. However, the recruits would not yet have the abodes and accommodations we made for them. The structures would be buried, forcing the pages to live in the muck, drinking mud and eating the spoils of war as we did. Forcing them to build and uplift themselves as we did.


    To that end, we devised a manner with which to sink both the Steepcairn and the Briarfare. The barracks, classrooms, and training fields. Delphilios Court. Air Base Cloudwalde. The bunkers, towers, and trenches. Port Curdenweld. Every structure but the comparatively tiny dome at the center was buried beneath a layer of bedrock, leaving a pillar of bone at the center of a crater some 200 kilometers in width.


    Only after the War Phase would a truce be signed, and the Steepcairn would lift itself above the crater rim to form a domed plateau overlooking the land bridge. Being in peacetime, the recruits would see their schedules shift. Three days on, two days off. To make it so, required the planning of the Orcinus Matriarch. Being the Empress- or rather, the Goddess of the oceans and seas made her the queen of the mineral wealth found at their depths as well. And so it was that she was declared the Senior Logistician. Part of that duty included city planning. And while they also doubled as contractors, that was only the case while near water. So the blueprints were first passed onto Reina.


    As she would do with many of our domiciles in the future, Reina turned Steepcairn into a living organism using her Life Magic. In doing so, she and, in turn, we learned the extent of her powers. Her life magic could not heal. Nor did it give Reina control over the beings it created. It could only give life- autonomy, sentience, and intelligence- to things, inanimate or not. That was to say, it animated things in ways akin to the machine intelligence born by Iris. There was no soul. Only mind, body, and sometimes, a spirit. With this power, the walls, doors, and floors were given the means to move, open, or even rearrange their structures at will. Outside of their domains, entire forests were made dynamic, with sweeping branches to permit or prevent any from accessing their depths. Yet they could not speak. Not without a bit of her flesh magic. Talking buildings and trees were not permitted in Steepcairn, however. Thus, opening the door for the rest of us to impose our combined will on the structure.


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    In my case, it was the exact center of the Cairn and a little something I named the Ring of Residence, encircling the Pillar of Permanence - a pillar of pure mithral, in which, a recruit''s soul would be temporarily deposited upon their death in the Darkroom. Although it extended above the dome as an ordinary bone pillar, it was surrounded underneath by a wide ringed avenue lined with alcoves, huts, and smaller domes. They were the recovery rooms, therapy clinics, and physical training rooms Etan collectively named the Halls of Consequence. The place where recruits would pay the price for being healed or revived before they returned to either the Ring of Residence or the battlefield.


    Battalion Training Centers, or BTCs, were scattered across the Ring of Residence like jigsaw pieces. Each had a library, an art gallery, a great hall, theaters, wilds, herb gardens, ranches, temples, monasteries, dungeons, and sanctums; all things recruits would need to venture down their paths, no matter the class. All things made chic, relaxing, and mentally stimulating by the touch of Blude and her mafia. Evenly spaced along the corners of each BTC were at least four company buildings. In truth, each was composed of two buildings standing on stilts side-by-side, linked by an overreaching archway meant to accommodate whatever cadre Amun and Etan decided upon. Each platoon was privy to a private floor. Save the open ground floor, wherein sat the classrooms, armories, training fields, combat yards, and workshops. In each of them, Leary poured in his bones, used his necromancy, and merged it with the combined magic of Iris and Reina to create combat drones and other such devices for the recruits to hone their skills.


    While her energy was rarely found within the Cairn, Iris and her augmented beings poured their magic throughout every structure from the Pillar of Permanence to our forward bases beyond the wire. Of course, the end was to facilitate learning for the recruits, but the means was through surveillance. The recruits would have their privacy still. But each morsel of information was to be fed to the data processing center in the Steepcairn''s bowels. Hidden twice, the fifth basement level was. Once via the inaccessibility of the level and twice from being in a pocket dimension. The level above that, however, was open to the recruits. Namely, the artificers and engineers so they could learn of the many ways to generate power, regulate or exchange temperatures, and handle fluids in large-scale structures.


    The third level was where Reina''s flesh began to shine amidst Iris''s metal. The entire floor was dedicated to raw storage. It was, however, linked to the Grand Quartermaster, Freki''s domain of greenhouses, farms, gardens, and ranches on the level above via fleshy pipes and conveyor belts. It was all about efficiency. Waste traveled down via gravity from sewage and trash on the surface and Wilson''s factories and chemical plants strewn throughout the first level. Whether in the flesh pits or the recycling bays, it was repurposed into fuel or recycled materials. In either case, both went to storage before they were sent below or returned above for fertilization or refinement.


    Outside of the Steepcairn, Leary and, more importantly, Geri went wild with their abilities. The Range Master, as she called herself, was the Legion''s chief of intelligence and reconnaissance, being the first to scout any area we found ourselves in. That much was known. But what that duty progressed into was one where she and others designed enchanted tools to facilitate the Legions'' travel; celestial roads and rails of frozen clouds and burning wood; road posts filled with Iris''s warp mana and floating spheres infused with gravitational mana - Fast Travel, Amun called it. Of course, so too did she and her winter wolves spend days upgrading Delphilios Court. Garages were remodeled with underground showrooms and hidden racetracks that curved and looped into the distance. The clusters of hangars were interconnected to a network of crisscrossing runways filled with holographic projections to make courses for any would-be operators. Geri also widened and elevated every road, made paths throughout the complex, dug deeper canals, and upgraded any other means of travel one could think of. But her Warp Points and Gravity Slings were a fan favorite of everyone. Especially Leary.


    The goblin paragon swung and warped himself around every square meter of the former war fields. In the Gloom Yard, he formed obstacle courses of bone populated with skeletons and golems alike. to give the recruits a real challenge. Many more skeletons he raised to operate the bone tanks and crawlers he made to war against the recruits should they wish to hone their combat skills further.


    Well, that was what he said.


    We all knew he was itching to go out again. Itching to test his magic and might against those far-off nations. We all were. Yet, there was one thing left to create or upgrade before we ventured to those unseen horizons. Something that would greatly assist us in our future endeavors. Our Undying Machine Animals.


    "Mani is unlike the worlds woven by the Imperators," Amun told us. "While there are sentinels posted, no one lives on Mani''s surface. Nor is it habitable to most. Though we will later adopt the moon I wove above Shujen as our home, it will not orbit Mani as those other worlds do. It will follow us across the Mortal Plane. But even then, it will not be our home, but the home of our civilians. The many kingdoms of our empires. Therein lies the purpose of our Umas. Eotrom is our paradise. The place in which we reincarnate. Mostly." He snickered.


    "Eotrom is our vacation away from our place of work and play, not where our empires exist. Our empires exist within the Cuttleship, our mortal home. Not some fixed place on the Mortal Plane. The Cuttleship is where the homebodies of your groups and your professional organizations will dwell. The Omni-Wagon, then, is the mobile headquarters of our Zed Legion, and guest facilities for those we meet during our travels - our closest comrades and allies. In most cases, while the Cuttleship will remain parked somewhere in hiding, the wagon will travel across whatever realm we''re in at an unceasing, meandering pace, allowing us to come and go as we please. Kit, on the other hand, is the place where we conduct business in private. The Troupe''s roving estate. Our mobile city. Or rather," Amun devilishly smiled, "my mobile city."


    "As you will do in here, there will soon come a time when we operate independently within the same realm. Times where we each find ourselves in different countries and away from the Cuttleship, with our own agendas. As such, you all need roving estates and mobile headquarters for yourselves. Or, if you have them, you need to upgrade them. Cause I''m surely gonna upgrade mine."

 363 - The First Brood

    Reina Featherfall.


    ***


    Flesh Mother. Brood Queen. These names of mine were mere titles that reflected my abilities. A sorcerous hold on twilight that both purified and tainted the druidic arts I inherited from a grove that no longer was.


    Undying Fiend. Such a thing was simply what I became. A being who made a deal with the darkest devil in existence, pulling me to the brink of death''s door so that I could straddle it indefinitely. However, I was still Reina, the half-elven druid girl who was slain by her loving parents. I was still Reina. Yet, I was no longer a mere individual. I stood amongst the Elven Devil''s Troupe as one of the wisest, most intelligent, and most powerful beings in the Mortal Plane and had the assets to prove it. A junior artificer''s license. A witch certification. Business organizations. The Life Center and Reina''s Cleanup Crew.


    I stood amongst the Elven Devil''s Troupe at the trunk of the majestic tree that was the Legio Noctis. Leagues ahead of the scattered legions, we were to carve our way across the Mortal Plane in its entirety. Forever marching. Creating. Destroying. Doing the unthinkable for the sake of those so far behind us.


    We all had our specialties. Wilson; chemicals and undead. Freki; food and fire. Leary; bones and war. Mine was equally simple. Realms and Worlds. As World Keeper, it was my job to ensure our camps were sustainable, in balance with nature; and, in some cases, well hidden. It was my job to care for the many wild creatures that tagged along with us during our journey across the Bodhi Peninsula; and the many more who would come to us in the future. In many cases - especially in the most vile and uninhabitable places - my job was to build our wild strongholds and hidden cities.


    Last and most certainly not least, it was my job to care for and upgrade the biological components of Umas - if they had them. To do that, we all needed to expand our learning on wise rocks, or as Etan and the drow called them, Lair Stones.


    The size of the abodes they created depended on both the density of the owner''s mana and the size of their well. Our mana wells varied in size. Yet we all possessed arcana; with arcana came the potential for our territories to occupy a region fit for a country. Something we would not always require or be permitted to have. And our divine powers only exacerbated the issue. With our divine powers, our domains could grow to encompass a realm and then some. Not to mention, the wise rocks of Eotrom had evolved on their own accord. Everyone from the Imperators and Primes to the Troupe had a unique lair stone; Amun more so than anyone else, with one per domain. But the lair stones of my world and Iris'' ring were different. For me, there was the Brood Heart. For her, the Sentinel. Homes and factories, the both of them, for our children.


    Thus, it was declared that our future habitats and hides would come in two flavors. Arcane, formed by lair stones. And natural, traditionally raised cities. Such a distinction depended entirely on region and the need for anonymity, unlike the next categories. Depending on the terrain, the political climate, the environment, and several other factors, our hides would either be Opened or Closed.


    The latter would be inhospitable and impassable environments for most creatures; domains hidden beneath deep water; covered in extreme temperatures; filled with pestilential plants and toxic creatures. Anything that could deter those who would dub us as evil abominations in need of vanquishing. A preemptive measure to prevent bounties being placed on our heads and armies arriving at our door. For then, nations would fall.


    Open hides, on the other leaf, would appear as your run-of-the-mill abode or homestead left open for any passerby seeking refuge, trade, or simply a great time. Assuming they could see it in the first place, for only some of our hides would be seen. Our Hidden hides would go unseen by the populace. And more, significant efforts would go into ensuring the place remained unnoticed. They were meant for places with heavy laws, for we would surely ignore them. Not only that, but it was a necessity for my flesh factories.


    Permanent abodes and settlements were to be the exception, not the rule. And many of those settlements would be spread beneath the waters of the realms, the Underground, or the Darkworld. Born solely from our decision to spend years or decades or more in a realm, engaging in all things commercial, political, and otherwise. In all other cases, the rule was, we of the Legio Noctis - nay, Eotrom was a nomadic empire. We were explorers. Wanderers. As were our lands.


    Across the Legions, our mobile domains were organized into tiers. The largest of them, Tier 11, consisted of the Woven Worlds that forever orbited their weavers - the Imperators. Like Mani, the Legion home worlds were interdimensional structures; hollow worlds, with their surfaces exposed to the Mortal Plane and their inverted interiors looking out into the divine realm of Eotrom.


    Tier 10 was the Matryoshka Moons, akin to the Deathworld woven above Shujen. Woven to be NoxNet-connected hubs of information constructed around the Legion''s Senior Lore Skull, much like a celestial throne mixed with a corps headquarters, but with castles and cities for undead and fiends alike.


    Industrial Asteroids or, in some cases, Rings followed them at Tier 9. Again, they were connected to the networks, but in this case, it was to oversee a division''s industries and artisanal endeavors. Similarly, Tier 8 was the Brigade Sky Shards. Proper garrisons for each regiment and countries for regimental staff, contractors, and civilians, persisting at the sky''s edge above their assigned biomes.


    Creating each of those tiers was Amun''s responsibility. Likewise, maintaining them would be the responsibility of their creator. The Tier 8s and several more below, however, were due to be my responsibility.


    The one called Edward Pascal, the Grandmaster Chief Engineer, had a lot on his plate. Not to mention, the crafting of flesh was more aligned with my abilities. So, with the founding primes'' Umas created, I unburned him with the responsibility of being the one to create, maintain, and upgrade the Legions'' Umas for the foreseeable future; allowing him to return his focus to engineering.


    The first of them was the Tier 7 capital ships; the Zeta-Class Umas like the Cuttleship. Across the Legions, there were only 11 as of yet, but there was due to be more once we traveled further across the Mortal Plane, leaving new Legions behind us. After all, each brigade was due to receive one. A few were more mechanical in appearance, like the Aluminum-Rain cloud turtles and moving mountain crabs used by some drop troops and dwarves. The rest, however, resembled moths, weasels, snakes, or some other creatures, with only a slightly off-putting visage.


    Significantly fewer of the Tier 6 vessels and even fewer Tier 5 vessels had been distributed to the battalions and companies, namely because their ranks had yet to be filled. With the former being Omega-Class Umas and the latter being Alpha-Class Umas, there was none in the Legions yet qualified to take ownership of such assets. Not even the platoon-sized Beta-Class Umas or the squad-sized Sigma-Class; the Tier 4 and Tier 3 vessels. All others, the arcane and normal vehicles, would still be the responsibility of the Senior Master Chief Engineer.


    Or Iris.


    Of course, we were the exception. And, of course, our Umas were born from creatures taken from our divine worlds. Leary''s Omega-Class Uma, for example, was a colossal bone worm filled in the interior with the likeness of a linear, grandiose castle. To make it the tunneler he dreamed of, I grew various glands within its body that could calcify dirt and excrete it from the anal glands; expanded into a ring around the tail as it passed, leaving something like a snake''s ribcage for his other Umas to run through. And yet, that was the intriguing part about Leary''s Uma. In preparation for his elite force, Mick Green, his bone worm was made to be modular. Being made of bone from the organs down to the skin allowed the ribs and vertebrae to detach without reducing structural integrity. And so it was that these vertebrae and ribs were made into his lesser Umas. But not for him.


    For his future minions, Leary made skeletal planes out of bony birds, tanks out of exoskeletal Mustelids, racers out of osseous rodents, and calcified ships from sea urchins and shellfish. And if that wasn''t enough, the bony organs, hairs, eyes, and mandibles were made to detach and operate as anything from fast attack shards and trains to scouting vehicles. All for his future minions. But things were different for the goblin paragon. For his Alpha-Class Uma, he took a massive bat of bone and turned it into an aircraft carrier; for his Beta-Class Uma, he took a Bone Badger and turned it into a tunneling tank; for his Sigma-Class Uma, he took a skeletal rat and turned it into an armed racecar. All of them were given biological upgrades. Metallic claws and teeth. Acid or poison spitting glands. Color-changing pigments. Among others. But so too were they given technological upgrades. Turreted wands. Thrusters and gravity negating plates. Recycling and manufacturing bays. Any and everything he''d need for his band of mounted soldiers.


    Contrary to Leary, others arrived with Umas. Namely, Rickley, who was the owner of a mount already. A curiously large poison dart frog with a spatially enchanted crystal implanted on its back that grew to become her Beta-Class Uma. A theatric necropolis within a lush valley that could thump across the ground in ways only she could enjoy. For her Alpha-Class Uma, Rickley took a Giant Dusk Frog and had me seed its crystalline warts with private lots and alcoves, while the primary space was contained mostly around the stomach. As her Beta-Class Uma sat atop the head of her Alpha-Class Uma, it, the Dusk Frog Cairn sat atop her Omega-Class Uma. A Poison Bog Crocodile, hollowed and filled with Duskwoods and ponds for her to rest around. Then, curiously, she took a giant fly for her Sigma-Class Uma and had it sit on its larger cousin; a fly, on a frog, on a frog, on a log.


    Cephalopod genes were given to each of them, granting them camouflage and several other tailored genes to increase the range, frequency, and volume of their croaks and buzzes. Again, they were passed onto Iris so she could install speakers, transmitters, and other sonic devices for Rickley''s craft. Plus something Amun called a tractor beam into the sucker of her giant fly to give her ease of access.


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    The one to arrive with a pet but not an Uma, was Wilson. From the seas, he picked up a sea otter that turned dark through the same process Amun used with the Menagerie. It became a shade otter, then grew into an undead, colossal paragon of itself when it saw Amun. Once it saw me, it turned it into an Omega-Class Uma. A necromancer''s island paradise and simultaneously, a habitat for his Alpha-Class giant otter. Like a mountain or island chain, the smaller Uma would rest on the belly or hold the paw of the larger one when ''docked.'' Likewise, the Beta-Class giant skull Uma remained attached to the otter''s chest like a pendant while the Sigma-Class eyeball-ship could come and go as it pleased.


    While all of his Umas had chemical factories and alchemical labs stuffed throughout, the skull possessed tools and weapons meant to distribute his foul concoctions to the realms. Projectile launchers were installed in the orbit of one eye. Beam enchantments and turreted wands were clustered in the orbit of the other. Teeth were given life to sink into the jawbones on command, which were hollowed to make embrasures. It was given a tongue so that it could spit and flick liquids. Plus a throat and lips so it could inhale or exhale noxious gasses.


    Other members of the Troupe formed their Umas during our years in Eotrom. Chief among them was Blude and the Orcinus Mafia. They had Omega-Class Umas born from their other halves, as that was what was required to brave the World Seas. So too, however, did they have squids for their Alpha-Classes, Dolphins for their Beta-Classes, and crabs or jellyfish for their Sigma-Classes. They had weapons. They had machinations that gave them no need for my life or body mana. Yet still, they received them, in moderation, granting them the means to recycle and sustain themselves without end.


    So too did both Geri and Freki have their Umas born from divine wolves, but not other halves. Skoll and Hati were remade into the clothes Geri and Freki proudly wore. Instead, it was Skoll and Hati''s mates that were made into their Umas; Freki''s Alpha-Class trains and Geri''s Alpha-Class big rigs. From there, the two diverged further. Freki went towards the divine sea for his Omega and Beta-Class Umas, choosing an octopus for the former to turn it into a colossal sky-dwelling train station and a crab for the latter, turning it into an armed and armored dune crawler. Yet for his Sigma-Class, he picked a giant moose to turn into a bike of fire and smoke.


    Geri, on the other leaf, went for a more modular approach, yet went towards the divine sea like her brother. Her Omega-Class Uma wound up being formed from the body of a giant squid while her Sigma-Class Uma- or rather, Umas were made from the eggs the squid was due to lay before its untimely demise. Meanwhile, her Beta Uma was also a crab. A boulder crab turned into an arctic crawler. In either case, the non-identical twins had their vessels imbued with sensors, scanners, and as many turreted wands or spell cannons as their surfaces could fit. Unlike the Mafia, however, greed or determination demanded they be made as capable as possible. They had biological, technological, and magical weapons installed from top to bottom, plus the biological means to be as ravenous and voracious as they were.


    And then there was Etan. One with a pet that didn''t become an Uma. One whose Uma received no upgrades from Iris nor me, for he imbued all the power he''d ever need into them. They all came from the vibrant nebula around his world without magic and thus were designed to exist in the void above; for the most part, at least. The ones that weren''t were the Beta-Class Nebulous Jumping Spider and the egg it hatched from- his Sigma-Class Uma. Like the material comprising the egg, the spider wove near-incorporeal webs of gravitational energy and distorted space between the places it jumped; using them to alter its trajectory as it leaped. Those Nebulous Webs, as Etan called them, held the peculiar ability to act like ley lines. With them, beings like Etan could travel between any point above the skies at near-instantaneous rates. Of course, two of such points were his Omega and Alpha Class Umas, the first Nebulous Owl, and the egg it hatched from. Stony, asteroid-sized raptors with crystalline chests, hollowed like Rickley''s frog to grant him and his dominion a grandiose monastery in which to dwell.


    While nothing else was done to them, it was entirely possible that his Umas capabilities far exceeded ours. But alas, because of the nature of his organization, we could never tell. Quite the opposite of the most eccentric and complicated members of the Troupe.


    Being both Divine Mothers of new branches of life, Iris and I had not Umas but creatures of our creation. Hers forged from the bowels of her world; mine, created by my very hand. Of course, the other members of the Troupe had new twigs grow from the tree of life. Yet none of those branches were so complete as to form an entire branch like me and my counterpart.


    The Tech Goddess'' augmented creatures were as varied as the lands down below. Yet, above all, she picked the most unsuspecting creature for me to enhance. Technica Apis Vespa, better known as the Tech Voney Wasp. It was a mix between a bee and a wasp, with the unique ability to harvest organic and inorganic matter and refine them in several products, including Vehsipane - something I was to facilitate.


    With the help of Iris, the proto-queen''s mechanical innards were animated with my magic and thus optimized, vacating enough for Iris to comfortably operate. That didn''t mean there was no room for improvements, however. The proto-queen was picked because of her ability to create hives and lay eggs like any other queen. Thus, with my help, she was made to behave like any other colony, and also like my broods. Like my broods, the larvae would grow into different castes depending on if they were fertilized, what orders they were given, and how much royal jelly they feasted on before spinning their cocoon, adopting the characteristics of those they consumed to better themselves.


    Like the queen, these drones could be individually piloted by Iris'' peers. But if an augmented being was to consume the royal jelly, she would gain total control of the swarm. And such control would reflect upon her appearance greatly.


    Such things were a long way away, however, as she first had to find a suitable location to build her hive. As did I. Albeit many more. I was to do so in any imbalanced place in the Mortal Plane. In the very Darkroom. In my Umas. But then again, I did not make Umas. I could not make Umas for myself, for I was the mother of flesh.


    Upon the elves, humans, halflings, gnomes, and a few dwarves of my place of birth, I cast my power. They and the animals they so loved were crystallized in my staff and fueled with the power of life mana to gestate a single being. A daughter with the frame of a halfling, the mind and drives of a dwarf, and Elven senses. She was given a simple request. To take her Brood Heart and feast upon the seed crystal of flesh used to create her. Then place it into the vacuole within her chest. In turn, I had a quest. To scour the Darkroom. Not only for genetic samples and templates. I searched for suitable corpses.


    I found it in the form of a Duskpit Viper who died early in her midst of gestation. Being one of the relatively few types of snakes to hatch within their mother, such had to be the case, as roughly two dozen eggs were resting inside her. Unhatched and unmoving. Then and there, in the depths of some unnamed forest, I poured my flesh magic over the mother and her lost brood. It was a peculiar power. Unless I used it to augment or change my body, it could not be used on the living. And while it could produce fat or bone or meat or anything else, the true power came in manipulation existing flesh.


    In pouring my magic over these dead creatures, they were covered in a membranous cocoon filled with an auburn fluid that called out to me in a language so strange. Only because of my training before entering this room did I understand the meaning behind those soundless words. Only because of my knowledge of genetics could I take all aspects of the creature and withdraw, change, and infuse them with genes from other worlds.


    They mostly came from Freki''s world and Iris'' ring. Its frame was altered with genes taken from the volcanic snails of Freki''s world. But rather than sulfur and iron, the shells were altered to use tellurium and adamantine, then were further tailored to imbue that material into the bone and scales rather than a shell. So too was the skeletal structure altered with creatures from the Orcinus Mafia''s water world, if only to grow water mana-infused fins along the ventral sides; and also the scales themselves from the Voney Wasps of Iris'' Ring. Those genes, however, gave the scales the means to grow a bio-metallic beard, collar, and belly of fur that was further altered to be thicker, feathered, and infused with my Floral Mana. offering concealment.


    The eggs, of course, got the same treatment. Yet they remained within the snake for the time being. Waiting for the day new daughters would be born and sent out to create broods of their own, like the one I''d just created.


    Satiated with the genes of the druids of my home and the foul creatures of this world, she watched in awe as the newly formed snake slumped from its embryonic shell, unmoving. Then, instinctively knowing what to do, she placed her hand on the beating red stone in her heart and climbed into the beast''s maw without delay.


    As a Lair Stone normally would, its essence poured into its surrounding environment, giving it a template of what materials to create before it was given guidance as to how to use them. But in this case, my flesh daughter''s will held onto that essence as it shrank back into her frame, unable to be released. Her will kept the essence from shrinking further to reform the lair stone, keeping it from being contained. Her flesh and the life I gave her ensured it stayed until it had nowhere to go but... everywhere.


    From this explosively gory process, an Uma was not born. The organs and systems within the creature were not homes and districts, they were digestive pits and gestation complexes; assembly lines and flesh factories. Many of which were already in motion, gestating a halfling frame with the same genes as the now-writhing snake the factory was made of. This was not an Uma. It was a Gestated, Undying, Modular Bioorganic Assembler. A Gumba. And its first assembled being was my first companion.


    Percival, the Owl that had followed me since my departure from Redagh, flapped into the factory after the now-Queen to receive his enhancements. Like she was experiencing, his body was redesigned using the genetic profile of this brood - the Flesh Mother''s Brood. And yet, so too was he blessed with my magic so it could house many things in its comparatively small frame. When he emerged, still, he was my giant owl, Percival. Yet, his essence was now contained within a skeletal effigy, or avatar, the size of a normal owl, nested safely in the imposing figure''s beak. My other magics were infused into the rest of his body; Life, Floral, Flesh, and Disease. With that, Percival could still act and behave as the creature I''d grown so close to, even if his smaller avatar was running wild elsewhere.


    With that, I could enter his chest cavity like all the others with their Uma, where the interior was like a hollowed tree built to my liking. With that, I could assimilate into the skull like some did with their power armor, granting me full control over the frame.


    With that, I can spread my brood everywhere.


    It took quite some time for her to hatch; weeks after the factory was brought online and days after my familiar was upgraded. The others had long since gone off to spread destruction across this realm of power, as had I, to a lonely island in a distant sea, surrounded by goblins. I waited and waited for her to be born. Hoping. Praying she would come before the final phase was upon us.


    It was three days before the crucible when she appeared. A woman with a Halfling frame, housing a Dwarven mind, and drives paired with Elven senses. A Queen with black metallic scales cradling her face and running down her body, with a head of dark feathers and a coat of nightly fur that shimmered in the light like gold. My daughter, with retractable claws, talons, and wings paired with venomous fangs. My overseer of the Flesh Factory. Blessed with my powers, druidic, divine, magical, and sorcerous.


    I call her, Delilah.


    Delilah Featherfall.

 364 - The Crucible

    Leary, the Faithful.


    ***


    There would come a time in every war when I would have to remove myself from the battlefield. A non-commissioned officer was I, a mirror to the officers at my side. But not just any non-comm. I was the Noctis Marshal. My station was too high to lead from the front - at least until things got bad enough to call one of us in to destroy. Standing beside the Abyssal Regent and Praefectus Noctis, ensuring my non-comms had everything they needed to lead from the front - that was my role. Yet, here, in this forge of Legionnaires, the order of operations was reversed. And yet, they were not.


    In any realm save perhaps Maru, we of the Elven Devil''s Troupe would be the first to arrive. We would be the first to explore. Experience. To learn. The first to judge or, more likely, be judged. I knew not if they would travel to lands we sundered to deliver Amun''s final judgement or if they would fan out from our position like an Abyssal wake, exploring realms we''d never touched. I knew only that we would be the first to do all things in those realms, unexplored by us. Including war.


    In this forge of legends - this demigod-producing factory - it was the same. We were the first. The first to suffer. To rise. The first to change. To dominate. There would be no legionnaires picking up behind us in this place, however, for we made it better for the proctors and instructors who would come behind us. There were no lands for our followers to expand upon either; for we made their homes for them. Even before we made homes for ourselves.


    While they were not, the order of operations was reversed.


    War. For us and us alone, war came in flavors. If some entity got into a conflict with me and used might, magic, skills, or cunning to bring me to an end, that was between me and them - a Solo War. If all the Troupe got involved, it would have no ties to the Legions or the Empire - a War Party. It was only in those cases where allies, assets, and other such things were threatened would the Legions get involved; for they were explorers above all else.


    The order of operations was reversed.


    We entered the Darkroom to see the wicked face of war grinning at us. Powerless as we were, we were forced to fight together as a team. To bond and grow as a unit. We gained power together and subsequently split to impose our will on this vast realm. And only now, at the tail-end of our year in the Darkworld, had we the strength, assets, and cunning needed to be the first to repay what was due.


    It couldn''t have come at a better time, for the change came slowly as the tide so often did. The fields of flowers spread across the land dried from the overbearing heat. The tug of gravity beneath my feet increased just a bit more. Howls and cackles of long-felled creatures spawned behind my train of bone. It was time for the crucible, and I was itching for it.


    Much of the last month was spent traveling across the Bugdilk dominion, spreading destruction wherever I went and using the bones of my felled enemies to create vessels and skeletal minions to scout the lands in my stead. A great bone bridge to a flock of bony buzzards. An osseous obelisk into a train-mounted gimbaled spell cannon. Fields and mountains to railways and tunnels. The Grand Duchy of Kas was a different story. They were the neutral goblin nation of the Darkroom, set between our less powerful enemies and the adversarial superpowers in the distance, who acted as a barrier to the friendly nations in the furthest corners of the room. But we had little interest in them. Our interest was with those superpowers that had been observing us since we first entered, adapting to our abilities until it came time to face us in the crucible.


    It wasn''t until I came upon the border of the Oim Kingdom that I ordered a full stop. However, it was not because of the hulking vessel of bone that lulled in the sky - a vessel I did not create, though it was of good design. Even with realms 1.9 G''s pulling on it, the skull, spine, and ribs of some long-forgotten leviathan hovered above and a head of me on propellers shaped like wishbones. Still, it was not why I paused. Nor was it the sight of pods and bone-encased capsules it released to fill the skies, each of them packed with arcane tech goblins. I paused because, finally, my prayers were answered.


    My God was glorious indeed.


    He had given me all I would ever need to thrive in war. My armor was augmented into my three cervical vertebrae and my five thoracic vertebrae; Rubber, Spike, and Silk mana were infused in my lumbar vertebrae for supreme movement; and the three fused, gravity-infused sacrum vertebrae granted me flight. My armaments were infused into my Volterum ribs, beam-infused sternum, shielded arms, and bladed fingers. I needed no tools, no weapons, no resources. But still, I would use them, for my God demanded nothing less.


    With a mere thought, the 3 cervical vertebrae in my augmented spine blossomed to life, covering my head in a helmet reminiscent of a mushroom cap, while a devilish mask and goggles of bone congealed over my face. With my eyes bolstered and supplemented further by the networks, I turned my gaze to the growing clouds of black and green rain, wherein I spotted something tantalizing amidst the clouds.


    "LOOK WHO IT IS, BYS! LITTLE LEARY''S ALL BLOWN UP! GAHAHAHAHA!"


    That all-too-familiar voice grated against my ears and resonated in my bowls in ways that sent ripples through the divine materials comprising my nerves. My forearms responded readily to it, activating the shield mana in my bones to have them splinter through my skin, where it flattened and wove its shards into a pair of shields just as twin scimitars struck against them like lightning.


    The resonance of adamantine on adamantine rattled the entirety of my skeleton, except in two places. The rubber vertebrae in my spine and the Volterum in my ribs. But I paid neither of them any mind, for my reunion with a goblin boasting hooped piercings and a mechanical eye was due.


    "IT''S ME! RATTER!" Another twang reverberated down my arm with the words. Followed by another. "TAT!" And another. "TAT!" and more. "TAT! TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT¡­" On and on, Ratter swept and slashed, making my ribs tingle more and more until something wicked within me snapped.


    The four claws of bone-infused metal clutched around my chest cracked to life, elongating into spider limbs that shot out with the force of a cannon. "¡­TAT- Ugh! Oho ho! My shoulders! My legs!


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.My! My, my..." Ratter grinned as he dangled from the end of my limbs, raising his scimitars high and wide. "You''re gonna have to try harder than that, Leary, by!" he swiped, clanging his swords against my armored neck. "I survived the revive this time!" He shouted, slashing into my ribs. "And all times before!" He screamed, swiping at my legs. "I''m like you!" He swung. "I''m arcane!" He thrusted. "It''s insane!" He swiped as he had swiped so many times before, bringing the vibrancy of my ribs from red to orange, and then yellow in ways that saw something giddy meld with the little devil inside me.


    I lashed out at Ratter''s face, losing myself enough to find my bony digits gripped around the remains of his snout and squeezing more. Thus, I continued where my instincts left off, squeezing and pulling to flip him between the ground and me before I unleashed everything.


    "GYAAAAA!"


    My scream released a violent stream of vibrant yellow energy - a beam - slamming through Ratter''s chest to bore into the ground beneath us. But I knew that wasn''t enough. He was still down there, in a pit of rubble and smoke, scrambling like the rat he was. But before I could give chase, I was surrounded by a buzzing volley of fire, ice, lightning, and steel.


    I tried not to block it, for I am Leary, the Faithful. I showed my faith in my God and stood true until a hulking suit of metal appeared amidst the chaos. Boasting a comparatively tiny hobgoblin head, it raised its arm and was promptly kicked back as its arm erupted in flames, launching more than the intended cannonball ball at me with great speed. Again, I tried not to block it. Yet it did not hit me. Light and fire erupted from the ball just as it arced in front of me. The feeling was numb, distant; overshadowed by the winds roaring over me.


    Fueling my 3rd, 2nd, and 1st thoracic vertebrae with power, I let my body relax as skeletal wings sprouted from my back, chased by a web of umbral muscle and a skin of metallic feathers composed of the same osseous-adamantine nature as my bones.


    Banking around the formation, I put my Uma into action while I infused the rest of my thoracic augmentations to reinforce my armor with scales and emit a protective barrier 5 meters around me, giving me some reprieve. Though it would not last long. The constant pangs against the barrier saw my ribs lose their luster, draining my energy to a dull red glow before I ascended for the counterattack.


    It came with the muffled shot of my spell cannon in the distance. The concentrated mass of lightning mana ascended as I dove, outstretching my hands to point all my fingers toward the enemy as I unleashed everything within me.


    "I''VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS! TOO LONG I''VE BEEN WAITING! FEEL THE WRATH OF LEARY OR BOW TO THE MIGHT OF YOUR GOBLIN GOD-EMPEROR!"


    My frenzied words drowned out the clusters of metal-encased bone shards I sent raining down on the enemy. But a few were undeterred by either my words or the hailstorm of bullets. The hobgoblin mech raised its barreled arms as I banked and weaved, spitting out my fingertips against the wave of spitting fire. But it wasn''t enough. Thus I adjusted. Five and five shots were recast in favor of pairs that smacked into the hobgoblin with a slow rhythm while the deafening cracks of my spell cannon and the screams of frying goblins crept closer and closer to him, filling the air with Smoky Bones until the last agent-filled shell ignited the smoke in a fanatical explosion.


    But still, it was not enough.


    I cursed at the hobgoblin mech and the ship of bone steadily raining goblins armed with mechanical wands and power armor. That anger intensified as I banked around once more, fueling my sorcery with something fiendish as I charged madly into the brute.


    A cannonball could not have impacted as greatly as I did the hobgoblin. With his cackling visage entrenched in my grip, we tumbled and tossed while the wicked bone within me poured through my charged ribs and out of my arm like a solid streak of black lightning. He howled with laughter as he fried from the Volterum discharge, and then panicked as the wickedness seeped into him, petrifying his skin into a statue of metallic bone that would remain as a warning throughout the ages.


    Therein marked the start of my crucible. After that, I continued past the Oim border and the mountains straddling them, seeing the fault that Ratter must have emerged from on the other side. Upwards of a tenday were spent crawling back and forth, killing everything within. Filling it in with rubble; filling my bone worm with bones to create bone bots to scout this foreign environment around me while my badger tanks finished off any survivors.


    I waited until the start of the Crucible''s second month for Ratter, thinking that if I truly killed him, it''d be nice to kill him again before I found his boss. I never found him, but to the south, I found traces of Reina''s brood, so I pushed my bone boys eastward. That was not to say I was dismayed, however. I was quite entertained the entire time. The machinations installed by Iris and Reina allowed me to check up on the others'' progress across the Darkroom in real time.


    The Mother of Flesh wasn''t bound to pillage Oim like I was. She was focused on the Black Brood''s expansion. An isle of flesh-crafted creatures within the inland sea to the south housed her Brood. At the bottom of a deep pit, they gestated and spread beneath the seafloor, acting like mycelium to colonize the bedrock of every continent. Iris was doing the same thing with little success; as her creatures required industrial waste and scrap metal to form their habitats. Thus, she elected to conduct surveillance and provide support after building a hive for herself on the northern coast of Freysia. With Ratter nowhere to be found, however, I moved deeper into Oim, wherein I came upon a vast lair, home to an arcane, highly intelligent osseous warg. And Ratter.


    He appeared when the beast was most distracted, and I was preoccupied elsewhere in its lair. He launched some type of bone-weakening poison into its chamber, weakening it enough for him to steal its strength. Then, he came for me. Him and his minions.


    They ripped through trunks and boulders alike to reach me, all while slinging a rapid slew of spells from their mech-wands and throwing arcane grenades with levels of accuracy even I was impressed by.


    With twin axes conjured from my fingertips, I engaged with levels of zeal only I could muster. For the first time in my life, I let my lumbar augmentations shine as brightly as everything else. I bounced and snaked throughout the forested hills with reckless abandon, caring not for stone or wood; dirt or water, as I impaled goblins and their machinations alike, like an adamantine sea urchin shot from a cannon. I bounced, leaped, and darted unceasingly for weeks on end, ensuring to leave strings of adamantine silk in the wake of my travels to halt up those who lived; though not for long.


    Those who lived soon fell. Yet others got away. Ratter always got away. Although I could not despise him for it. Our fights were always riveting. He had proven a capable rival, if not a cowardly adversary, always giving me the slip behind the corpses of his minions; always hiding when I slayed his armies. He led me over the southwestern hills and across the mountains to skate across the glaciers near the Darkroom''s southern wall, using his minions as sacrificial pawns to make himself stride that much further, that much faster. He supersonically sprinted across the wide fjord that fed the Great Oim Sea and darted north, back into the tundra and forests, using scavenged mech-wands and arcane javelins to destroy my vehicles as he danced across the water.


    Up and around the small peninsula at the opposite end of the Great Oim Sea - over 2,000 kilometers of rough terrain - I chased Ratter. Throughout the 2nd month and through to The Crucible''s 3rd, my Boneworm Train chased me, chasing Ratter, absorbing the fields of bone to repair itself, build rails, and construct more cannons to protect itself from the ever-increasing swarm of goblins stampeding alongside it. But still, it was not enough. He brought me to the end of the line and retreated, giving my train nowhere to churn; and I could not chase him, for we received orders to recall on the 1st of the last month.


    The invaders were being invaded.

 365 - Emergence

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    Our last two months in the Darkroom were undoubtedly the most emotional time of my life. There was never a time like it, before or after. Here, in this forge of legends, we strangers-turned-unlikely allies became an unruly band of schemers and scourges; saviors and saints. But it was not until the Crucible that we became the legends of legends.


    We were all in the field when it happened; on our own, in separate parts of the room, when we found ourselves ambushed, assaulted, or raided by our technologically advanced enemies. They came from the skies, seas, and depths of the earth. Colossal mother ships released waves of exosuit-equipped warriors, power-armored knights, and augmented soldiers while they rained civilization-ending spells from the Darkroom''s ceiling.


    That we could manage.


    So too could we manage the following month, when the Darkroom seemed to grow frustrated with our success and saw every creature that survived the past month develop super-powered strength and constitutions on top of their arcana and increased intelligence. We managed only because we regrouped, however. Still scattered across the room, we warred alongside the comrades we''d gathered across the Bodhi Tree, akin to the old days in the War Phase. But the third month of the Crucible saw that change. All creatures native to the Darkroom, sentient or not, rose in strength, constitution, arcana, and intellect like before. And so, those nations we once decimated and left in the backs of our minds swept toward our lands with little to stand in their way. For they were aided by the beasts they once preyed upon.


    Therein birthed my first experience with unbridled joy. The first time I truly had fun in combat. The first time I truly played- laughed, frolicked on the battlefield like a wood elf in the forest.


    Me and my companions returned before anyone else in the Troupe and long before the others received the recall. Teleportation brought us to Ring of Residence, where we let the nebulous powers within us flow to our borders, filling each square kilometer with at least one of our spectral clones. Then we began the walk. The astral legs of my true self melded with my ki as it always had, turning them semi-corporeal- enough to race and launch my body through the Ring with great speed as my true self''s fists lashed out at the relatively few creatures who dropped in our lands from above. Unlike before, however, my nebulous nature left radiant clones in the wake of my attacks that saw fit to lash out in kind.


    Likewise, Tacnan Gemeye let loose the martial arts I showed him, blending them with his sorcerous powers to dart through the Briarfare with Turr to disable enemy vessels or exterminate the invading beasts with grim precision. On their own, Ginku and her multitude of nebulous clones held the line at our borders while the clones of Rimoire and Glok shadowed them to listen in on their communications or pop off spells to devastating effect.


    By the time the lands had been cleared and we regrouped at the border, the cunning goblin''s seeds of disinformation had already leaked through enemy lines. They were led away from Delphilios Court, Cloudwalde, and Port Curdenweld; only to be recalled to those same locales when their commanders caught wind of the mixup¡ªeffectively bracketing them in the kill zones designated by the Black Wolf Brigade.


    As per their designation, they arrived from the skies as a meteor. A screaming meteor that burned from the howling rage of nearly five dozen wolves huddled inside. It burst above the ground and sent smoldering stones showering down like the wrath of an angry god, bursting in explosive shockwaves that launched smoldering wolf-shaped seeds across the battlefield.


    It had been some time since I had seen them; their growth was palpable. No longer did they dive after enemy groups with reckless abandon. They sank their claws into the ground, fertilizing it with a thick brush of scalding roots and simmering squash that uprooted their tanks and exploded in flowers of smoke and heat. Making it all the easier for their companions to streak through the perimeter on their buggies and bikes, dismount to slash and bite until nothing remained, and mount up to repeat. And throughout it all, Freki''s bards were above, preforming circus tricks and providing an air of revelry that spurred the meteor pack on until little remained, wherein the arrival of Rickley''s payload saw the tone of war shift.


    Rickley, sitting on her Fly-Plane, who was sitting on her frog, sitting on her toad, sitting on her Croc who was lying on a log, blasted the haunting sounds of war drums and horns she composed for our battles. The macabre call uplifted us all, inspiring our bodies in ways that terrified our enemies. Enough to make them tremble in fear at the realization that the Elven Devil''s Troupe had been recalled to war.


    Wrong though they may have been, it mattered not. Our enemies were formidable. Their fear did not last long, and they reacted accordingly.


    Lightning flashed in the skies above Steepcairn, leaving lingering clouds that thickened as winged behemoths of arcana and steel emerged to rain fire on our position. Only to be countered by the streaks of blue that appeared from the east, launching comets from both the ground and sky.


    While Geri''s bards joined Rickley and the Fruitful Five''s concert, Norsh''s sky skimmer released a swarm of orc-sized ice golems that collectively broke the line of sight between the ground and sky. First with sheer volume. Then with sheer firepower. Meanwhile, Penny and Rhonda raced around Steepcairn''s border at a blur, outmaneuvering their targets even while using their blessings from the ArcaTech and their magic to install air defense systems or to weld enemy vehicles into a chain of barriers. Our lines were extended that much further by their influence. Thus we pushed further ahead, uncaring of the metal rain falling onto us.


    Even I was unaware of Iris'' return. Like everyone else, I had been on the move for hours. Hunting. Preying upon those of our enemies who sought to regroup, redistribute, or relay information, personnel, and equipment. A field of digital red lines that only we could see changed that. They superimposed themselves onto the ruined stone and shattered stumps, forming a ring around the Steepcairn, blanketing the forest and the air above them with the words ''Danger Zone.''


    That sight came with the grainy sound of the Praefectus Noctis''s cold tone delivering a single message. {"Two thousand six hundred ninety-one seconds."}


    Having the agency to decide our paths for ourselves, we all went about the orders differently. Geri and Freki continued their battles in the sky and on the ground, releasing evermore power to decimate and push the enemy away from our lines. Blude and her Mafia remained scattered in the Darkroom''s oceans and seas, where they would remain throughout the Crucible to take advantage of the resident nations engaging in total war. Reina and Wilson, like Iris, were preparing for the counterattack. Or rather, a flurry of decisive blows. None of us, however, were protecting Iris. For she had protectors of her own acting near and far. She had an augmented elf with a mutable body, capable of shifting his appearance to that of the enemy and waltz easily through their bases. A half-dwarf who performed witchcraft on our damaged machines and weapons. A half-orc who could adapt her body to have any weapon on the fly and another orc who became a plague to the enemy''s fortifications.


    No matter who they were or what their role was, the augmented beings moved uncannily, and at great speed without the aid of bolstering. Their faces held no emotion or showed no signs of strain as they punched through armor, were flung into buildings, lifted vehicles, and made repairs to themselves without stealing life, using spellcraft, or relying on enchantments. Yet they used those things still to execute their tasks with an efficiency that left their often doll-like faces placidly cold, illuminated only by the crimson glow of their irises.


    The most dangerous of them was the one I spent the most time with, both now and before. Deeke, her Executor, a human who was subjected to the barbaric war games in Mazi. A boy who had the honor of fighting on behalf of his three younger siblings; and lost at the most auspicious time. When Iris found him, his jaw was shattered, his skull was cracked, and his arms were broken. Thus, she merged his body with the augmented adamantine - Dimensionite - to turn him into a living machine. Then, my training saw him become a machine monk. So it was. He fought alongside me while his commander prepared her spell, never relenting in his applications of violence like an engine at full throttle, even when Freki positioned his trains to rain down on the enemy or when Leary dropped from the skies in a frenzy of bloodlust. He cackled and howled everywhere he went, Leary, lashing out with twin hatches while spider-like legs of bone skittered him across the war zone.


    Stolen story; please report.


    When Iris released her Technomancy, it poured. Across the length of the Cairn, it swept, seeping into the depths to infuse the materials she spent the time to manifest with her Molecular Magic into the very bedrock. Released into the flow was the Arcanites and enchantments she conjured and imbued with whatever application of her Mana Affinity she came up with, leaving the rest of the energy to reduce the rubble into a blue aura that condensed, compressed into a swarm of blue-black blocks - tiny in scale, until they cascaded into magnificent designs.


    A sheer wall of arcana sprouted from the depths with nary a quake to provide a warning, splitting the land cleanly apart before a deep hum began reverberating through the land. Spell cannons manifested in rows along the edge, surrounded by giant clusters of turreted wands that reduced to the size of insects as the horizon shifted upward. The trees beyond our borders were flattened by the winds produced by our borders rising above them, revealing gaping maws set into the walls, filled with swarms of mechanical beasts that stared at the warring factions, wanting. The mountains to the north soon towered over their neighbors to the east and west, releasing a feral roar from the depths that bathed the danger zone in a primal conflagration.


    Steepcairn had ascended. And with its ascension came a rain of hellfire, spawned by the mechanized turtle shell Iris unleashed upon the Darkroom.


    Providential batteries of spell cannons, each as big as a cathedral, began an apocalyptic volley of magic fire, ice, lightning, acid, poison, and explosives that never ceased, it only spread to the edge of the land bridge on which Steepcairn used to sit and crawled forth still. Their spells rained on the oceans to the north and south, decimating their fleets with explosives and the hurricanes or whirlpools spawned around them. City-like arrays of mana missile launchers released ordinance upon those cities we destroyed back in the War Phase. Arcane bombs saw to even the places we had not been. Nothing was left untouched.


    With her magic spent and seeing to the distant lands of the enemies before us, Iris turned her reddened eyes toward the enemies nearby.


    A single wave saw her release what felt to be the entirety of her mana well and the divine mana within her. It swept over everything. The guns and mech or tech wands of our enemies turned alive, shifting and folding over themselves as they drank the sorcerous energy and smoothed their forms into birds that nipped at their fingers to be released, then rapidly sang out spells at point-blank range. Their power armor reformed without warning, crushing the inhabitants as they shifted into apes and monkeys that ran loose amidst the chaos. Their airships, tanks, and carriers grew bestial, filling their insides with arcane and often burning machinations that crushed and ground those within to paste as their bestial groans echoed for the first time. Entire cities began attacking their inhabitants. And it only got worse when the rest of us followed suit.


    All of us released the breadth of our abilities. Some more than others. As the poles and the equator were being bathed in celestial fire and ice, Blude and her Mafia swept through the treasure rooms, vaults, and armories of every capital city in the Darkroom, then began working their way down. Enemy or not, they emptied everything and returned it to us. Some of it. Then they would leave, ensuring to leave trap spells of oceanic proportions that would see those cities buried in ice, scalded with steam, or submerged in water when their rulers reincarnated or returned to gaze upon their work.


    As the nebula above crawled with the clones of me and mine, Wilson used it to his advantage, releasing the bombs he spent infusing with his four broken affinities to devastating effect. His Corrosive magic blended with his Decay Magic to attack the healing factors of the resilient beings we warred against. It acted against both the weak and the strong, either canceling their healing factors out or supercharging them until they suffered from runaway growths and tumors. Though it didn''t kill them so much as render them helpless. That was what the other bombs were for. The Disastrous Chemicals attacked their forces via the lands they depended on, tainting them with the fumes and slurry in ways that saw mudslides or earthquakes and noxious dust storms rise and persist throughout the rest of the month. The dust they kicked up melded with the air, creating toxic dust devils, tornadoes, or typhoons that grew ever-larger as they crept around the room, spreading more his chemicals to the seas, the skies, and all the lands between them.


    Thus, we alone had our reprieve, even in the Darkworld''s Crucible.


    Thus, our reprieve was shattered come the Crucible''s final month, when four domineering figures stood above the remnants of those warring nations. The first proxies and the coveted undead. Lana, Doyle Wolfgang, Olga Godzuik, and Zaraxus; each with 11 proxies of their own.


    Thus, we of the Troup agreed, and determined everything had to be destroyed. Every land sundered, every culture erased, every life claimed - the Interitus Protocol.


    Thus, we used everything.


    We used every ounce of our power for every punch; every bit of arcana for every minor spell; every instance of cunning for every maneuver; for that was the only thing capable of keeping those four at bay.


    Even the Black Brood''s arrival gave us no reprieve. They appeared like a great tide of alien wickedness that devoured all there was in sight. No city was left standing, no animal was left moving, no instance of life remained to satiate their jaws except those four and the divine few they had with them.


    It took everything we had to make it through the crucible. But eventually, we did. The end was declared. Thus Steepcairn returned to its place on the ground and everything within the Darkroom was returned to its original state. Cities rebuilt themselves before our eyes. Lands shifted from their dead states to vibrant realms in moments, as if they had inhaled a breath of life. The inhabitants appeared from thin air and gathered en masse around the Cairn; not to attack, to celebrate - something I still was not used to. And so I watched while the others paired themselves into their groups of like-mindedness. Reina and Iris- two sides of the same coin. Blude and Wilson, with their overlapping niches. Geri and Rickley- who strangely enjoyed each other''s distant company. They all went off to various places to show off the things they''d made and done. Things that would be replicated and used to terrorize those who would come after us.


    I turned toward Leary and Freki, who''d bonded while frolicking through the battlefield to the point of sharing a dumb exuberance that I was sure my brother would relate to seamlessly.


    "Try not to run so much next time, Ratter." Leary was saying to a goblin with gleaming scimitars.


    "Imma scout, Leary. Runnin''s what I do."


    "Well, I enjoyed the hunt! Now we harvest and feast!" Freki cheered, swinging a barrel of ale around as if it were a mug.


    While amusing to watch, I grew distracted by someone approaching from my rear. Olga, it turned out to be. Though not as I met her before. What we faced in the last month was only a clone of Olga, made from the fighting spirit she cast aside when coming here. This, however, was what remained.


    "I know that look in your eye." She said. "It''s a familiar one. A look of disbelief coupled with knowing you''re where you belong. Yet, you have a feeling. Something''s missing."


    "Not a feeling." I snorted. "I know my kin is missing. But I cannot bring them here without an ensuing battle. A Drow battle. Short, destructive, and decisive."


    "Not a battle." Olga shook her head. "War. One that will last for the ages. A war between drow deities. Demons and devils. Now that you know the horrors, the cost, is it worth the reward?"


    I looked about the Troupe and their subordinates and thought of the many Legionnaires spread across the Bodhi Peninsula. Those who would bring countless others to this room to be trained into beings - demigods who could thrive in such a war. Knowing what we drow knew, knowing our zeal; our militant drive for perfection... "It is. However," I turned my gaze back to her. "The cost is mine to pay. Mine, and anyone who wishes to help me liberate my fellow drow. The drow who are worthy, at least."


    "Well, you''ve got about 200 here." She laughed, looking back to the revelry. "Plus one more. But my fight is over. My help comes after you bring them here."


    "I can understand them." I motioned toward the Troupe. "Why you?"


    "Can''t you see it?" She smiled in that strange way humans did. So child-like, full of blind exuberance and wild emotion, yet... charming. "We''re two sides of the same coin. Educators. The guiding hands of change for the future generations."


    For whatever reason, it was something I chose not to look at just yet. So I turned my gaze to the Troupe. But of course, Olga Godzuik still had words for me. "And try not to look so lonely. If you want company, just go to your friend. He''s over there."


    Friend. It was only the second time such a thing had been said to me. Other words have been used, yes. Companion. Peer. Teacher. Subordinate, even. But only once before was I called Amun''s friend. A crude, ridiculous notion, I believed at the time. Now, however¡­


    "I still know not what that word truly means. Coming to understand that, I suppose, is my true war."

 366 - Classes of Legend

    Amun.


    ***


    "So, you''re all exceptionally strong and have reached the limits of super-powered strength and constitutions, except you," Doyle confirmed his assessment, pulling my eyes away from Etan on the approach.


    "Yeah," I nodded, smirking at both him and Olga. "I''ll be working on increasing my agility and dexterity as I move closer to Death''s Door. As for my strength, I think I''m as strong as Toril now."


    "Strong as Toril." Doyle chortled, looking somewhere far off for a moment. "Not stronger than Toril?" he then asked, looking back at me.


    "Toril has had Weight Magic since our affinities were awakened. He''s been fond of weight training since before then. Since he got his axe, at ten." I pointed out, then let the words hang in the air for a few puffs before I pointed my pipe at them teasingly. "How heavy do you think his clothes have been since then? His weapon?"


    "Huh," Doyle huffed, slumping back in his seat. Meanwhile, Olga seemed as if she was truly pondering the question. At least until Lana and Zaraxus sat at the table.


    "A paladin whom holds the power to steal storms must match a tempest giant in strength," Zaraxus said, followed by Lana.


    "Makes sense to me."


    "Right." Olga snickered dryly. "Well, since there are no scrying windows to show us what''s what, how about one of your speeches?"


    "I wouldn''t call it a speech, but I get your point." I snorted, rising to address the elephant in the room and pausing from the sudden excitement shown by everyone else. Not to say I wasn''t excited myself, but the anxiety of those who had fruits to eat was nearly palpable. "I''m proud to say that you all have exceeded my standards in becoming the finest explorers in all the realms," I stated, beginning my ''trademark'' pacing. "In this, your station in the Legio Noctis is higher even than the Imperators of the various Legions. To you subordinate members of the Troupe." I lifted my head, peering at those my Troupe had gathered from the Bodhi Peninsula. "You, now and forevermore, hold the title of Abyssal Emissaries. Titles with pay equating to twenty-two-hundred-fifty gold a week."


    Geri''s relatively few subordinates almost fainted from the words, causing her to look over her shoulder in disapproval until I pressed on. "As for you lot." I gazed upon my Troupe. "You each have distinctive titles. Collectively, however, you are hereby recognized as the Abyssal Agents of Eotrom. A title that grants you diplomatic immunity, operational sovereignty, and a pay of twenty-five hundred gold per week. Three weeks in a month, times thirteen months in a year, equates to eighty-seven thousand seven hundred fifty gold in back pay for the Emissaries. And for the Agents, Ninety-seven thousand five hundred gold coins."


    The matriarch herself then collapsed in a bed of frozen flowers, yet she managed to turn into her wolf form to save face and rose from her flowers moments later, snarling at anyone who dared laugh.


    "You''ve received your vessels, enchantments, and other boons already." I continued once the laughing died down. "All that leaves are your merits. Your station." I pointed out to the many worlds scattered around my starless system. "There will come a time when your worlds will have grown into the heart of a galaxy, home to a million-billion stars. But that will only come after our many lifetimes of adventure. Our business is on the Mortal Plane; the place in which you are known as Deities. Deities though you are, you are not as immortal as one would think. Stepping through Death''s Door will bring us here, or the Underworld, and it will change us.


    "Deities though you are, you were not when you met the prerequisites for obtaining your classes. That was accomplished before your coming here, to Eotrom. Consequently, the Master paths that were then opened to you and laid out by me had subsequently been sprinted through during your time on your worlds and here in the Darkroom. In doing so, you have gained what even I do not have." I grinned, looking at each of them react to the fruits of their labors slowly descending on ethereal vines. "There is nothing greater I can imagine, for you chosen few, than classes as revolutionary as these - Legendary Classes. But keep in mind, this is not a gift from me. This is a gift from your past selves, paid by blood and effort for the sake of rewarding the version of you that exists in this moment. So cherish them and learn of your paths during these nights of revelry. For, when we return to the Mortal Plane, we''ll have work to do."


    As they dispersed into their cliques and groups to eat and evolve, I returned to sit among Etan, Doyle, and the others to dictate their stories and accomplishments across the net. Wasting no time after finding my seat, I followed everyone''s gaze to the black, audibly beating heart-like fruit and noted the circuit-like veins on the skin before I began.


    "I''ve made pacts with and blessed each member of the Troupe. I''ve augmented some of their bodies, upgraded their natural abilities, gave them sorcery, and tutored their minds to become the prime deities of my pantheon. They''re all necromancers, albeit in differing ways. They''re all Doctoral Witches. They''ve all meddled in the schools of wizardry and applied it with my knowledge of the natural realm to develop the imperial school of technical wizardry. They''re all Engineering Artificers. And they''ve all plunged down the paths of the classes they''ve chosen. In this, they are all sorcerers, warlocks, witches, and artificers; along with their chosen classes. Masterful paths that have been used in tandem throughout their ritual.


    "While all were blessed and, in some ways, cursed. The Undying Fiends are different. Not only are they undying, but they''ll develop fiendish traits later on down the line. Horns. Tails. Abilities only devils have, like making deals for souls. As they are now, however, the only fiendish trait present in them is the corruption of their abilities. Rickley Ravenbrook, for example, was plagued with the shadow of death because she dwelled within Chor''s city walls. It was insulated with asbestos. Thus, she had cancer, yet sought to increase her chances of bardic success rather than seek a witch. Thus, the reaper that''d been clouding her feet moved to haunt her head. Buke then stole her money, and she became maddened for revenge on the one who stole her riches. Her pact with the Owl gave her the revenge she longed for, though still, she died. Partially.


    "Upon her rebirth, Rickley was given a body capable of producing music as if it were an instrument. Not to mention commune through mana and connect with our technology. Her power of music, however, was corrupted to hinder the living and help the dead. She was a Warlock - an Undying Fiend, the Soul Singer. But after graduating from the Bardic School of Passing, she learned t merge the two in the Darkroom, giving rise to the Bardic Warlock, Soul Celebrity. And yet, I blessed her to have Sorcerous Twilight; although, her Twilight is more like twilight-poison, as that''s how she died. And that, she blended with her mastery of the Roguish ways of Fiendish Fencing to become a Sorcerous Rogue, Twilit Fencer."


    "A fencer as in a peddler of stolen goods, or the fighting style?" Doyle asked.


    "Yes." I nodded without as much as looking his way. "As the Legions'' Eldest Grave Keeper, it''s Rickley''s job to ensure the dead rests peacefully. To bury them and build the things in which they''re buried, converse with them and create the enchantments needed for others to do so, give them the means to see beyond their graves, and for mortals to see beyond the veil - an Artificer, the Eldritch Civil Engineer. To that end, she learned how to study the dead of mortals and aberrant alike, performing autopsies, and other aspects of Pathology, merged with the Eldritch aspects of Witchcraft. Thus she is an Artificing Witch, the Eldritch Mortician. More than that, though, she is Eotrom''s Grave Goddess of Architecture, Funerals, and Cities."


    "Wilson Koorb, on the other hand, was an amateur artificer - an accomplished alchemist and a hedge wizard to boot. He developed stronger and longer-lasting potions for the market. All while being unevolved."


    "T- that''s... interesting." Olga gasped. Not from the achievement - everyone in this realm and many beyond knew of Wilson Koorb - she gasped from the slop of Wilson''s acorn-berry ''fruit'' popping open to drip a dark sludge into his mouth. It both looked and smelled like tar; even before the thin membrane of the berry was pinched above his outstretched tongue and held there for minutes.


    "Yes, but what wasn''t amazing was him wanting more. Wilson blatantly asked the Owl for perpetual youth and immortality for realizing his magnum opus. He knew his habit of testing potions on himself would end badly in the long run. Thus, he sought to flee from the deathly shadow above him. The Owl, however, declined his wish. He clutched his talons into Wilson''s chest, knocking him down and then out. He was given a proposal in the ensuing nightmare. His wish, in exchange for his undying service to me as the first warlock created by my sorcery. An Undying Fiend. As per our agreement, Wilson''s alchemical prowess was blessed and enhanced to permit him the realization of his magnum opus - mutable potions, or those with permanent effects. This became so for the ones active within him at the time of his rebirth and is so for the ones he created thereafter; although the process is certainly difficult.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "The mutations born by the brews are everlasting until one drinks the ''antidote.'' Wilson Koorb, however, is cursed. Thus, he was given an adamantine skeleton that prevents him from mutating anything other than his flesh. The last aspect of his curse was to be reversed in age from seventy-two to five years old. Then, he spent his second childhood learning how to use his Bio-alchemy to create mutated, magical, and enhanced undead and fought them in ways that combined his mutable artificing with his connection to the Shadow Realm and his anti-wizard combat training to become a Mage Slayer. Now, he wields negative mana, or anti-mana, as a Fighting Artificer, the Mutable Mage Slayer. Whether he was thankful or simply devoted to his craft made no difference to his path. He continued worshiping the ArcaTech by becoming a devoted engineer and toiling in his labs day in and day out to create marvels for the undead and devils alike - and himself. Thus he is now a Clerical Warlock, the Eldritch Engineer.


    "That, however, was not the blessing I gave him. And in truth, his sorcery wasn''t a blessing at all, but permission from a Sovereign of Death to become a Nox-Lich, a sorcerer who can enjoy the pleasures of life. He''ll stop aging sometime between now and twenty-two years old, and will not need a fresh intake of souls to remain whole like other liches. This also gives him ties to the Shadow Realm. But he cannot combine it with his necromancy like I can. Regardless, his necromancy was combined with his studies of witchcraft and modern medicine to become a surgeon of undeath, turning him into a Sorcerous Witch, the Nox-Lich Doctor. And now, he is Eotrom''s Alchemical God of Disasters, Mutations, and Anti-mana."


    A sudden crack pulled us away from Wilson, finally munching on the tar of his berry and over to a particularly gruesome fruit, if it could have even been called one in the first place. It looked like a spiky orange, bone white and so hard it had to be crushed underfoot to reveal the banana-like interior. But the slim green man licked it up greedily and even crunched on the thick shell once he was done, regardless.


    "Although I spotted him alongside the others, when I returned to the Mortal Plane at the beginning of this year, Etan and I found Leary at the end of a dwarven axe while I was toying with my elven abilities. He was crippled from the legs down and begged for his life when he awoke to see me and Etan. He said he''d do anything to live. So, with the Shadow of Death looming over him, the Owl proposed a pact. His acceptance saw him live on the brink of death as an Undying Fiend while his body was enhanced, augmented, and evolved into a paragon of his species while corrupting and amplifying the bone manipulation innate to all Goblinoids to work on himself, giving rise to his sorcery. Now, he is a Sorcerous Warlock, Undying Bone Emperor. He is entirely lacking the useless and negative traits of his kind. Instead, those traits have been remodeled to give him increased physical and mental capabilities. The latter he put into studying all things bones in regards to engineering, artificing, medicine, and witchcraft; then later merged his findings with the fields of Osseous Artificing and Orthopedic Surgery to become an Artificing Witch, Orthopedic Surgical Engineer.


    "A truly fearsome ability, creation from the bones of the fallen," Zaraxus mentioned in his sonorous incantations. "The destruction he wrought to the Kingdom of Oim shall remain etched into the land for eons. Horizons of bone, molded into bridges and railways; battlefields and bergs."


    "As is only right." I nodded. "For the charge for his boons is his undying loyalty. Faith in both himself and in me. Specifically, my wickedness. Being the Barbarian he was both born and reborn into, this saw him become a Scourge whenever he lost himself in his rage, decimating everything in sight. In Eotrom, however, his zeal strengthened him, and honed him as he mastered his fighting skills, turning him into a Fiend for Battle. In merging those classes, focused so zealously on my wickedness, he became a Barbaric Fighter, a Supervillain; as well as Eotrom''s Bone God of Battle, Villainy, and Goblin Paragons.


    "Like them, the others are varied and far more complicated," I said, looking over the lighter members of the Troupe with their strange mix of fruits. Namely, the mountain of steaming squash descending on the larger pack of howling wolves. "Freki was the barbarian prince of Shujen, a kingdom more knightly than the drow give them credit for. But that''s neither here nor there. He killed his mother for torturing him as a child. She deemed him as weak and made him torture people and kill animals besides his ''punishments.'' In getting his revenge, he killed Skoll, who didn''t want to see his soul be tainted. In turn, Skoll''s celestial soul was then freed to corrupt Freki''s body. He would''ve stayed in his man-beast form with Skoll''s personality had I not cursed him and his sister.


    "With the curse, though, his soul merged with Skoll''s, enabling him to shift between the three forms. And while his personality remains, his memories have been replaced with Skoll''s. With Skoll''s memories comes Skoll''s ravenousness. Thus, the first thing Freki did was to hire about fifty farmers to provide him with food. He spread his curse to them, turning them into werewolves, then trained them up to his standard, paving the way for him to become a Barbaric Warlock, Patriarch of the Meteor Wolf Pack. More than that, though, he studied and toiled as a young knight should have, albeit with additions to become an artificer with a specialization in agriculture. Then, he devoted himself to fulfilling the role of the Legions'' Grand Quartermaster, turning him into an Artificing Paladin, Agricultural Philanthropist.


    "While the rest of his Pack became the Fruitful Four, the False Shepherds, and the Harvest Wardens who led them - Barbaric Warlocks just like him - so too did they become Sorcerous Celestials of Summer and Autumn like him. Using their innate powers and their vast harvests, they went about witchcraft in several ways. In Freki''s case, he used his abilities to care for the animals on his ranch worlds and became a Sorcerous Witch, Celestial Veterinarian; as well as Eotrom''s Barbaric God of Agriculture, Freight, and Logistics.


    "Geri is much the same as her brother, and yet different. She was physically robust, yet sickly. Thus her father saw fit to throw her into the wilds to make her stronger and less sickly. In a way, it worked. She stole livestock from nearby ranches and brought them to nearby wolves. They took the kill and ate while she watched, until they would offer her some. And through that, she gained their trust. In other words, she''s a natural ranger. But then, she killed her father the moment she had a chance. She killed Hati in the process, and received the same curse as her brother. Yet, where Freki embraced his other half and has the claws and fangs to prove it, Geri sought to calm and control her inner beast. As far as I''m aware, the only difference that made was in her less-bestial appearance, but time will tell for certain. Now that she''s awoken as Eotrom''s Ranging Goddess of Reconnaissance, Rescue, and Communications, however, I''m forced to think differently.


    "Like the other pack, she and all of her members are all Ranging Warlocks of the Winter Wolf Conclave. Yet, her smaller, more specialized crew has more legendary classes as their cousins. All of them are Sorcerous Witches, Celestial First Responders. From there, they diverge. Katheryn, Lemeia, and Lula are Bardic Artificers," I said, pointing to the human, Strifling, and dark gnome. Then to the dwarf, human, and halfling. "Penny and Rhonda are Clerical Artificers, while Norsh is a Barbaric Artificer. As for Geri, she''s a mash-up of the Celestial Aerospace Engineer and the Celestial Spell Striker. An Artificing Wizard, Celestial Spell Bomber.


    "Etan." I looked to the sole being of my kind I could relate to. "You are next. Because, for all the merits found in the classes of you and your subordinates, the ones you get are more complex. Not to say theirs isn''t." I needlessly assured him. "You had a class before our meeting and reached the end of it on your world. Moreover, you designed your blessing to work off of your monastic way - your Astral Ki, giving rise to your Nebulous Sorcery. Thus, with them merged, you are a Sorcerous Monk, Nebulous Lama. Yet, like Leary, our pact saw you evolve into a paragon of our kind, given the condition that I help you free our fellow drow from the Queen Demon Spider and that you train my Legions. With that, you graduated from the Bardic School of Training and became a Bardic Warlock, the Abyssal Regent - the Prime Disciplinarian and the Primary Training Instructor for all the Legions. The Eternal Champion''s Champion."


    "And so too have I stepped down the path of an Artificing Witch," he told me, the slightest look of disbelief written across his face. "Dreamscape Psychiatrist."


    "So too are you a God." I reminded him. "Eotrom''s Nebulous God of Education, Training, and Memories. A power that has been transferred to your subordinates. They are all paragons, like you. And they all have nebulous blood that synergized with the monastic teachings you gave them. They all are Monastic Sorcerers, Nebulous Gurus. Except one. Tacnan Gemeye." I looked at the humble dark gnome. "He is a Bardic Monk, of the Educational Philosophy.


    "The others are¡­ more varied. Rimoire." I pointed to the nebulous goblin. "Is a Rogue Artificer, Nebulous Cypher. Glok." I shifted to the nebulous hobgoblin. "Is a Wizardly Artificer, Spell Printer. Turr." I gestured to the nebulous bearbug paragon. "Is a Ranging Artificer, Societal Uplifter. Ginku." I nodded to the nebulous ogre paragon. "Is a Barbaric Witch, Field Therapist.


    "And then¡­" I shifted my gaze, bringing my eyes and everyone else''s to the cluster of bronze-colored fruits dangling before the mob of finely dressed women. "We have the special cases. Starting with the Orcinus Mafia."

 367 - Divine Mothers

    Amun.


    ***


    "Chako Blude is perhaps the most interesting of you lot." I flatly said; mostly, because of the awe inspired by the bronze fruits. "Her, Redd, and Sam would have been successful rogues without my help. All I gave them was knowledge, wisdom, capital, and power. That much is made apparent when you gaze upon their works. Among everyone in the Empire, she is the only one to have followed in my footsteps without guidance. She built an empire from the ground up.


    "I hardly knew as much when I looked down from Maru and saw her drowning someone who reported her schemes. Seeing that only made me curious, as I''d already noticed Iris close by, so I looked a little closer and saw those at the orphanage had all but given up on her. I heard her pleas to the skies day after day, and so close they were to Iris that I thought it only right to adopt her as my little cousin, of sorts. When I looked into her soul with these eldritch eyes of mine, I saw she desired a grand throne built by herself, for herself. She wanted to be given nothing. And that was something the creatures of this realm saw as well. Thus, the divine orcas, Chako, Orpheus, and Jima, took a liking to them. And so, them agreeing to the adoption was them agreeing to a pact. Not with me, with the orcas. A blessing to gain their divine powers as sorcery. I then educated them through the Net, allowing them to learn what they needed and wanted during our time in Shujen, with the condition they learn to fight and control their sorcery from Abbot Eiriol while there.


    "Things changed during my walk. When Geri and Freki were cursed, Chako, Orpheus, Jima, and their pods wanted the same thing as Skoll and Hati. To experience life in the realm of mortals, in both the body of a human and theirs. And so, those of the Orcinus Mafia were cursed. Unlike Geri and Freki, however, Blude, Red, and Sam''s souls were not tainted, thus there was nothing to punish. And unlike with Skoll and Hati, the souls possessing those three are divine druids, not celestial barbarians or rangers. Thus, they''ve retained both their memories and the memories of their other halves. And, I would say a bit of their personas has been transferred to them as well.


    "Regardless, the merging of their divine souls saw Blude, specifically, become a goddess before everyone but Iris. As the Divine Matriarch of her pod, Blude has divine dominion over Mafias or Gangs, Recreation, Oceans or Seas, and all the Mineral Wealth found therein. Or, to put it another way, she''s a Druidic Sorceress with the Domain of the World Seas. Because of that, Blude is the only member of the Mafia to have a different rogue class. She''s a Rogue Warlock, Divine Matriarch of the Orcinus Mafia.


    "Everyone else in the Mafia is a Sorcerous Rogue of the Orcinus Mafia, holding various ranks and occupations within the organization and a professional mirror of the roguish ways via the Grand Hadal Enterprise. The highest ranks besides Blude''s are the Prime Matriarchs, Sam and Red, and then the other Matriarchs of the pods formed by their children- those they gathered across the Mortal Plane. As for their professions? Well, Blude''s an Artificing Witch, a Photic Cosmetic Surgeon, by day. By night, Chako is a veritable queen of organized crime.


    "By day, Redd works in the GHE as an Artificing Warlock, Hadal Fabricator. And so too is she a Ranging Witch who explores and is licensed to heal injuries developed in the deep blue sea - the Hyperbaric Witch-Doctor; for, by night, Orpheus is the Mafia''s head of trafficking. By day, Sam is a chef on the path to gaining much renown. That much was apparent after her education. But awakening her Victuals Magic made her a chef like no other. One who has blended the Monastic Way of the Chef with the Bardic School of Cuisine to defend her kitchen from the worst, even while she cooks and hosts feasts fit for royalty. A Bardic Monk of the Culinary Philosophy. Moreover, she''s an Artificing Witch, a Gastro-Engineer who can research and make ways to eat anything or heal those who''ve eaten what they shouldn''t have. Such a profession will permit her entry behind many closed doors, easing the means for her to smuggle things for the Mafia. "And yet, Sam also studied wizardry. Particularly the School of Warding, which she merged with her warlock abilities, tied to the abyssal zone of the oceans, to become the Wizarding Warlock, Abyssal Warden.


    "Likewise, their subordinates got much the same treatment. Gwehn was on the Barbaric Path of the Bruiser and melded it with her Artificing focus on Construction to design, build, and protect the various structures raised by the Establishment. Turning her into a Barbaric Artificer, a Coastal Contractor. Kali, being an elf, could become an Arcane Archwitch on top of becoming a Medical Scientist. They merged into the Artificing Witch, Nautical Medical Administrator. Lizlee''s diploma from the Bardic School of Media and her studies in Meteorology merged into the Bardic Artificer, Lighthouse Announcer to provide all manner of services to those at sea; all so she could gather and sell information. Jayde, on the other hand, is an Artificing Bard, the Financial Adviser. Emily, another Artificing Witch, became the Toxicological Administrator. Chloala, another Artificing Bard, used her malls, supermarkets, and convenience stores to become a Commercial Adviser."


    "Quite the extensive organization." Doyle nodded in astonishment. "It''s amazing what can happen when your eyes are turned elsewhere."


    "What have you been looking at?" Olga inquired.


    Both Doyle and I answered. "Titus."


    Olga only rolled her eyes, shaking her head. So I left it at that and looked over to the last Undying Fiend of the Troupe. "Like all of her kind from Redagh, Reina grew up learning the druidic arts. Being unevolved meant she could only manipulate live plants, not create plants from mana like evolved druids. She was corrupted by the Blighted Woods, however. And, though it would have killed her, the true effect was the corruption of her grove as it spread from Reina to them. It infected their minds with fear, causing them to exile her when they learned of her exploits. That was when she made the pact. So hurt was she that she wanted to engulf the grove in flames just to feel its warmth once more. She made the pact. Yet she was soon hunted by the likes of her parents, seeking to end her for one reason or another, and they succeeded. She died and awoke as an Undying Fiend, reborn with an ArborTech body of petrified wood and stone. In turn, her druidic powers were reborn as well, corrupted to have flora affect flesh and blood and yet blessed with the power of Twilight, housed in the depths of her being. Pestilence and Purity, realized as sorcery. In this, her powers combined to create something truly fantastic. She became a Sorcerous Warlock, the Flesh Mother; a being capable of recycling life itself.


    "She learned as much after recycling her old grove. Then she came here to learn what to do with it. She learned all there was to know about life. She merged her ability to craft flesh with the knowledge of transforming ecosystems to create a means to heal entire biomes. Or even create new ones as only an Artificing Witch, an Eldritch Environmental Bio-Engineer, could. Taking some inspiration from Iris, Reina then learned about technology. ArborTech, NecroTech, and the new HemoTech to create and perfect FleshTech. She also learned of devotion, and in turn, faith in the ArcaTech bloomed within her as she created more and more. As a result, Reina became a Cleric of my Engineering Domain. A Tech Priestess. But one that was added to her druidic class to make something extraordinary.


    "She is now a Druidic Cleric: Divine Mother of the Genetica Dominium. A Mother of Nature who birthed a new branch on the Trees of Life, forged from her own hands. But hers has yet to be." I said to the few slack jaws scattered around the table. "Unlike Iris''s.


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    Iris was the first one I spotted after my ascension. She was pure of heart and mind, caught up by misfortune alone, like the good so often found themselves. Paralyzed from the neck down since a child, she sat before the window each day, just wishing to feel again. She felt like a prisoner in her own body. So, I freed her. But rather than just heal her, I gave her the option to become something more. The opportunity to become the first of her kind in this universe; something that was only possible to make during the latter parts of my first life¡ª Augmenting oneself. We used nano machines and ingested raw materials to mimic cell division and grow enhanced organs or otherwise replace some things with better versions, like half of our blood. But with Iris, it was taken a step further. Her body was not just integrated with machinery, it became an arcane biological machine. Inside to out. Top to bottom.


    "That is her boon. But her blessing came in two forms. First was a blessing from my engineering domain. It granted her the means to make technology with magic- Technomancy; which was then merged with the necromancy she was given by virtue of her receiving a transfusion of my blood. It''s a ritual we do to bring people into the family," I explained to Olga''s questionable gaze. "With it, she gained ties to the plane of shadow and the underworld - though not as deep as mine - and probably lost a few morals along the way. That said, I did add¡­ other aspects of my being to the operation. Namely, my genes. My DNA was reworked into her body, changing not so much her body and mind as her spirit and soul, yet it made her no different from my biological child all the same. Because of that, she can cast with ambient mana like other elves. Not to mention, she was reborn a goddess.


    "She''s a Sorcerous Warlock, Augmented Tech-Necromancer. Beyond that, though, she became the Tech Goddess of Eotrom the moment she was reborn; and later, she became the Goddess of Recycling, Militaries, and Information. But being a Tech Goddess came with the inheritance of something special. The augmented fauna of Ilium looks to Iris as their Mother of Nature now. They moved to her ring the moment she created it. There, she spent years learning about her creatures as she learned the ways of engineering. She learned how to do what I had done to augment her peers and others, becoming the sole decider of who would become an augmented being in the future. An Artificing Witch, Biomechanical Surgeon.


    "I oversaw everyone''s journey to become grandmaster artificers, although many dove into other specialties. Iris was not the fastest to achieve that title for that reason. From what I''ve seen, though," I paused, looking at Etan. "She was the fastest in her other training."


    "Yes." Etan chortled dryly. "Abbot Eiriol trained her and those in the Mafia in martial combat. In Iris'' words, she gets little enjoyment out of combat. So, she has some ''software'' to make combat more efficient. She calls it Combat Mode. I call it overkill."


    "Overkill is the best kill."


    He rolled his eyes at the sound of my snickering and shook his head, continuing. "I noticed her talent for the arcane beforehand. Once I realized how unnecessary it was to train her martially, did I teach her what I knew of the arcane arts. Of which she learned enough. More, however, can be taught to her by my brother, Eban."


    "Is that Drow for Evan, or something?" Doyle asked.


    "What is an Evan?" Etan placidly asked.


    "Human name," Olga told him.


    Etan tossed his head in contemplation before turning back to her sharply. "That sounds like a commoner attempting to speak above his station - gibberish."


    "He''s not wrong." I snorted. "And no, his name is not the Drow version of Ethan."


    "The same commoner, but with a lisp, mispronouncing a basic vowel," Etan said sharply. "Anyway, Eban is the Heart Keeper of House Za''Darmondiel; the Archwitch. In truth, he is an Arcane Archmage - a mage being one who blends witchcraft and wizardry. Matron Etyl does not recognize him for his arcane prowess, however. Something our mother did intentionally, just to make him bitter, for he cares not for witchcraft. He will teach magic any chance he gets.


    "I would say Iris knows enough to be an Arcane Wizard, though." Etan turned over the rails. "Especially with the elven archery Reina taught her."


    "Yes." I nodded. "She was able to become an Arcane Archer. A higher tier of the Wizard Path, Magical Archer, open only to those with elven blood. Or, in her case, blood from the God of Mana. The Master class of that, for her, was the Arcane Warp Archer. The Prestige of which is the Arcane Warp Sniper. When merged with her Tech Scout Ranger class, she''s become a Ranging Wizard, ArcaTech Warp Scout Sniper. Additionally, she studied and devoted herself to both her inheritances. From me, she inherited a senior role in the Legions. Our bonding time over our games of Space Shogi invariably taught her strategy and logistics, both of which she put to use in her Prestige Bardic School of Planar Leadership. On the other hand, she devoted herself to protecting the creatures she inherited in the same way a Paladin would. She made an Oath to guide her creatures, her peers, and the Legions through her Technology. In combining them, she became a Bardic Paladin, the Praefectus Noctis, or the Senior General of the Legions.


    "It goes without saying, but everything she creates counts as worship towards me, which is then given back to her as divine mana. As such, she became a cleric - a Tech Priestess before she became a druid. Thus, her power is the opposite of Reina''s, but otherwise the same. Reina is a Druidic Cleric. Iris is a Clerical Druid, Divine Mother of the Technica Dominium. Unlike Reina, who must create her children from harvested biomass, Iris''s creatures must be summoned to landfills, dumps, or toxic wastelands from her world, or be birthed by her augmented wise rocks. In either case, they''ll begin making use of those resources for their own ends. Finally, as Divine Mothers, both can create new life forms and grant primal or divine magic to any of their rangers, druids, clerics, paladins, and warlocks. For Reina, this means giving her crafted beings the same powers of flesh crafting and twilight she uses. For Iris, this makes it easier for her to augment beings, and makes it so they all can integrate their bodies with the augmented creatures native to her dominion.


    "That said." I sighed, slumping back in my seat to conjure a map across the table. And other maps across the net. "It may be some time before we see such things come to be. They may get some time to toy with such things next year. But I don''t see it happening until we attend to our business in Mar-


    "Uh¡­" I stammered, staring at the shadows in my sleeves reaching down to flow into my hands, darkening the skin of my fingers to a nightly hue while my nails elongated and sharpened into long white claws. Then it all faded. My fingers shrank to their normal size and their nails flattened into the usual shape. Yet, the nightly shade remained ingrained in my skin like a solid shade tattoo, leaving me staring in confusion until the gilded words pulled me from my stupor, and I remembered.


    [The Path of Zefroth: Step 5, The Horsemen. Complete.]


    [Reward: Evolution - [Void Devil''s Claws.] The indestructible but as-of-yet dull Claws of the Void Devil are now retractable, yet ever present in your base form, granting you the means to grab and injure souls as you would with the Void Devil''s Jaw.]


    [Reward: Evolution - [Void Devil''s Horns.] Extended in the base form are the Horns of the Void Devil. Not are they for show, nor are they simple weapons. They are receivers of wickedness and transmitters of cursed energy, permitting you the means to curse and make deals from range. This range increases with the horn''s length at a ratio of 10,000 meters to :1 centimeter.]


    I hardly felt the tingling in my skull as I read along. Knowing of the discomfort that came from evolution, I sought to distract myself by concentrating on the words as they formed. But all for naught, it seemed, as I hardly felt the horns rising above my skull. Thus I made a quick mirror of moonlight to make note of their shape.


    Like the horns of an Oribi, they were. Pointed straight up with a slight concave curve, they measured ten centimeters long and were smooth like obsidian, yet ten times darker with a matte finish and white stripes running down the height like a crude ladder. Satisfied, I dispersed the mirror just in time to feel a ''pop'' release something inside me. I suddenly felt¡­ malleable. But only on the... inside.


    [Reward: Active Skill - [Soul Polymorphism.] Your hold over souls has grown such that you can make malleable any soul you own. Through this, you can mold your soul or any soul you''ve claimed into any known form, making it so that your guise cannot be seen through even with True Sight. Simultaneously, you can separate and polymorph a portion of your soul or any soul you''ve claimed into an animal or imp and have it act independently of the original.]


    Well, therein caused the amorphous feeling. The pop, however, seemed to have come from my Ovatorium, releasing its outermost membrane, thus unlocking my new transformation. The [Void Imp Consular.]


    [The Path of Zefroth: Step 6, The Hand That Gives.]


    [To move further down the Path of Zefroth, you must collect ten thousand souls before venturing to the City of Devils in the Underworld to learn Devil Kenpo from your Fiendish Familiars.]

 368 - Subjective Peers

    25th of Trescia.


    ***


    The best thing about godhood was that I could see. Through my Legions; through the animals in my portfolio; through the uncountable souls doing things that amounted to faith and worship, I could see and thus live vicariously through the people I''ve met and the places I''ve been. That, however, was only the beginning. That was not what it meant to be omniscient.


    Omniscience meant I could feel and think alongside my followers in ways that felt like stepping into another body. A frame left on autopilot, leaving a mobile movie theater with a truly immersive perspective. In that way, I was with Hogaz when he found another curiosity spotted by Mani, feeling everything he did. Even if he didn''t know it. The sound of his feet seemed loud to his ears. Louder than any steps had ever been before. He knew not if it was from the ancient limestone, his armor, him, or the divine link in his mind that allowed us to perform these feats. Perhaps it was all of them that made him feel so¡­ lost.


    Yes. Lost. And yet Hogaz knew precisely where he was. The western cliffs of Rhar, with the choppy blue waters of the Bodhi Sea behind him and the churning clouds of the sky far to his front. White stone stretched beneath his feet, reaching to the left and right for thousands of kilometers. He knew that. Yet Hogaz also felt as if he was¡­ elsewhere. That he could not focus on, however. All he could focus on was what my silver eye spotted beyond the edge of the cliffs he was stepping over. All he could think of was the second to last monolith I spotted on the Bodhi Peninsula. And it was right over this edge.


    I looked over the vast coast as Hogaz deftly took a knee at the ledge and hung his other leg over the side, then shifted his weight forward to turn what was the ground into a sheer cliff, canting the sky back to bring a sprawling forest of legendary proportions into view. Hauntingly thick, it was, with nary a path to take through the house-sized brambles and thistles. Not that it mattered, for his objective was standing in a ray of moonlight just before him. And the means to document it had become as advanced as he had.


    The shrunken skull on his hip released one of its eyes to orbit the structure as he paced around it, emitting grid lines of moonlight across every square nanometer of the obelisk and its surroundings. In turn, Hogaz saw his vision light up with an illusory rendering of the object and watched its characters form in real-time as the scan continued.


    I felt a strong sense of anticipation burn from Hogaz like a star and I ''looked'' into his mind to see him preparing mental walls to defend against the waves of lunacy he''d grown to expect. But it never came. Not in the way he expected, at least, for those waves were but training wheels for the Imperial Lunarian Crown he was recently bestowed. That was not to say my Seeker was not rewarded, however. On the contrary, the powers of the divine worked subtly. A sourceless wind saw the passing clouds overhead shift the moonlight away from Hogaz''s skin, enabling him to see the vibrancy of his tattoos and the blue-green skin around them shine before dispersing into nothingness. His armor disappeared, and soon his very presence faded from the senses of all things not divine. To be returned whenever moonlight graced his skin; or until he deactivated his invisibility spell.


    There were still lingering traces of his lunacy, however. The crown of lunar tattoos wrapped around his head birthed imaginations in his mind that were neither his nor my creation. They egged him to do bizarre things like leap off the cliff before him. And so, he dove, thinking he was going to crash into the white waves slamming into the cliff. Yet, he simply passed through. With no resistance, Hogaz breached the water''s surface and continued falling as if nothing had changed. But of course, everything had changed for the Lunarian Imperator.


    The dark abyss of the sea was spread all around him and growing evermore as he descended to the rolling hills of the sea floor in the same way I descended to the Mortal Plane after leaving Eotrom - free falling. Fields of coral buried in marine snow were spread all about like the winterized meadows in the lands above, swaying in the waters that were more like heavy winds that bled a piercing drone into the eternal night.


    Hogaz landed on the sea floor with a great crash, releasing plumes of dust that had been settled for ages to drift about him in a cloud despite the roaring winds the crown convinced him to hear. The moment of reflection allowed him to realize the similarity between this maddening sea and Mani''s surface. Like the world above, it was a silent expanse with an eternally dark sky speckled with countless lights. Only the lights he saw were fishes. Fish and the Noctis Fleets. My 9th Legion, the Lunarians.


    They appeared across the net as stars in his augmented vision. Clusters of stars that, if focused on, would balloon in size and emit streams of words and images that told him all about those inside. Other gray stars showed creatures just minding their business. But a cluster of red stars - the only ones of their kind - showed a potential enemy. And it was headed his way.


    "Who goes there?" called a familiar voice. Yet, even I was surprised to see a blue humanoid in the waters above Hogaz; his kelp-like hair drifting lazily through the waters that I could not feel. "You?" He recoiled just as Hogaz and thus I did, yet otherwise relaxed. "What are you doing here?"


    ***


    Zohnos Lagunath.


    ***


    After the madness that transpired yesterday, I thought nothing could surprise me. Only to find the merfolk had migrated from the deep to the continental shelf, making my journey around the Peninsula that much harder. And now, my old companion in Apple Party was before me, standing on the sea floor, breathing as if he was on the surface.


    It was not something I could make sense of.


    Blue orcs dwelled in and near water, both salty and fresh. That much was true. But that was limited to coastal shores, lakes, bogs, and swamps. Not the open sea, and certainly not the sea floor.


    "You?" was all I could muster. At first. Followed by a succinct "What are you doing here?"


    The half-orc relaxed, shifting his weight on his heels while he chortled lowly. "I was going to ask you the same thing."


    "I am going to Redagh to rendezvous with my... sister," I said, scanning the waters before continuing. "The mermen have been making that difficult as of late. And you?" I turned back to him.


    "Ah." He rocked back on his heels; an impossibility in the water. "I''m going to the island off the coast of Chaulort to see if the pirates there want to become something greater."


    "Pirates?" I recoiled, then took a moment to look him over more closely. Specifically, the silver caps on his tusks and the many tattoos covering his body. The most prominent of them was a band encircling his head like a crown, cutting through his hair and all to form a silver circle on the center of his forehead. "You look the part, I admit. However," I gestured to the large mark on his armor - the infamous leafless tree. "Is that what you are now?"


    "Yes." He nodded. "And within these legions, I am whatever the situation calls to prevent needless fighting. We are the same as what exists in these waters. Pirates. Because only they can gather the pirates who plague these waters and turn them into those who explore and protect the World Seas."


    "Protect the World Seas." I gasped. "Why, I''d never heard a surface-dweller say such a thing! Knowing your history, however, I know you are nothing but serious. It is a noble endeavor, Hogaz. The same endeavor we Tritons pride ourselves on. However - and I mean no disrespect - are you certain you are up for the task? There are more than mere Kraken who dwell in the deep. Storm giants. Sea elves. Atlanteans. Leviathans of old."


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    He turned his gaze to the west, where the rolling hills of the continental shelf stretched for several thousand kilometers before dropping off to depths many could never conceive. Yet, there was something strange in his eye. A glint of¡­ silver.


    "What did he do to you?" I found myself asking.


    "Everything." Hogaz chortled weakly. "I wanted power in exchange for my service in the Legions. He obliged. Moreso than I could have ever imagined."


    "I see," was all I could say. I could feel the radiance of his spirit, after all. That, and his connection to the great seas. Moreover, I knew Hogaz to be filled with goodness. Still¡­ "I heard the rumors, of course." Pausing, I swam down to an outcropping and sat, staring up at the distant surface. "But to have witnessed them to be true is¡­" I shook my head. "I know not what it means. But I am not without understanding. It is like I said when I first met him. I am relieved he is a man worth respecting, and not a tyrant."


    "Why''d you duel him then?" Hogaz asked.


    "Pride." I chortled weakly. "I suppose Zarzok got a wonderful feast in that regard." I chortled. "Our initial interactions were not favorable. He is impeccable with his word and cannot help but hold others to the same standard when conversing with him. Any discrepancy, lie, or logical fallacy will be laid bare. Especially to those who call themselves nobles or royalty. Or rather, especially when they hold such titles. It was something I had never experienced. I was..." I sighed. "too prideful. Too protective over the seas, thinking he would tarnish them like many surface-dwellers. He pointed out my hypocrisy with painful accuracy. And so, I tried to teach him the very lesson that had slipped my grasp."


    I turned to meet his silver eyes. "There is always a bigger fish."


    "I see." Hogaz nodded slowly, his eyes fidgeting madly as he fit the pieces of my words into his mental puzzle. Then he turned to face me. "So then, what happened in that pool of darkness that made you grow so cold?"


    "Heh." I chortled weakly. "It was only around a month ago when I realized it." I looked away- above to the towering cliffs to the east. "It was only when I recounted Winston Epeth''s defeat and subsequent growth that it became obvious. However, it was not until I arrived in Rhar that I accepted it. Word had gotten out that Amun challenged Winston to a duel because of his bullying habits, whereas only my sister witnessed the challenge. Everyone saw Winston''s defeat whereas no one saw mine, save maybe the Headmaster. Not only that, Winston was defeated by Amun himself, whereas I was defeated by his minions - his rat and elephant of darkness, and his undead. Winston drew his blood whereas I could not scratch him."


    I paused, waiting for this silver gaze to fall back to me so he could feel the words as much as he heard them. "Either way, it was no contest. My pride as High Prince of the Ettrainyar Dominion would have been shattered had Class 999, the denizens of the Peninsula, and beyond witnessed such a thing. I probably would have taken up the crown and devoted myself to war, becoming the very tyrant I did not want to see in him. Had I not seen Winston turn himself around after experiencing those very things, I believe I would have. It was not until I met the Rharian King Corym that I accepted it, however." I found myself sneering at the sound of his name. "The elves of Rhar are sick with prejudice, pride, and paranoia. I saw what Amun said there as well. Those who would use a person''s species, birthplace, or abilities as a reason to hate them without ever coming to know them. Everyone from Duccec to Jaimess was looked down on by all of them, including our classmate Zaos, only because they wore the mark of Amun."


    Taking water through my gills in a sort of sigh, I calmed myself and looked into the infinite blue. "I admit, I did as well. Initially." I said after several moments. "Then, I realized I was the exception, given preferential treatment only because I did not join your Legions. They treated me as if I was an honored guest while they all but ignored the rest of them - ignored the fact we were all rangers of the Bodhi Tree. It was sickening. So much so that I wish I had joined the Legions, at times. Especially when Jaimess left King Corym with a rather satisfying warning. But," I sighed, "that cannot be. I have a responsibility to my Dominion."


    "Well, at the very least, we can start over as friends." A voice that was not Hogaz''s said. Yet it was just as familiar.


    I was speechless but not shocked when I turned to see the phantasmal form of Amun, positioned awkwardly above the coral to peer into a hole. I was shocked because Hogaz didn''t seem to notice him turn to face me. He only stared at me with a curious look while I shifted my gaze between him and his¡­ God, holding his hand out to me.


    "Or, perhaps allies."


    "Perhaps allies." I nodded slowly, reaching out my hand.


    "Then, I''ll see you in Redagh after the midyear ceremonies."


    If Hogaz was looking at me curiously before, he had to be looking at me with a sense of amusement once I reached out my hand to shake what he surely saw was water. "So you''ve seen him?" He then chuckled.


    "And we see you!"


    I turned towards Hogaz with wide eyes, seeing a coral-wreathed trident rising from behind him. Focusing on my own, I grasped onto the surrounding fluid, condensing it into a glowing point before sending it past Hogaz''s ear like a tidal harpoon; and in less time, Hogaz drew a gleaming sword and spun, bringing his weapon down with a deftness I''d never seen from the likes of him.


    Yet, it was not enough.


    The gleaming metal of his sword twanged against the enemy''s spear just as my tidal harpoon narrowly missed the merman''s head, and in the next moment, the water beneath me began roiling.


    I reacted on instinct, releasing my voltage to arc down my spine before stabbing my spear behind me, striking only water, for something struck me. Searing pain erupted from my side and I screamed, sending a stream of voltage down my ribs while my hands snapped to the needle embedded therein, releasing a cloud of blood into the surrounding waters.


    The rich arcana around me flowed into my wounds at once, working alongside my bodily functions to where I could vividly feel - almost see the bloodied waters churning in the wake of my fleeing target.


    Clutching my trident to my chest, I took hold of the surrounding water and drew it around my waist, forming it into a rapidly spinning ring before I let the tides take me through the bubble of red and into a writhing body of rough scales. Dull pain rippled down my helm, but I pressed forward, charging voltage through my trident as I swept the filth from my blade, leaving it to drift to the sea floor below while I stripped some nearby kelp into fibers to stitch my wound.


    I was thankful for the witchcraft I learned at the Bodhi Tree, for it was an invaluable tool, just as Mrs. Licht said. Thankful, until a sudden realization grasped my heart and dragged it down to the depths.


    The other merman was gone. As was Hogaz.


    I wasted no time concealing my presence with my newfound perk, releasing a cloud of ink to swim up and survey the area. But alas, there was nothing to discern other than the merman I felled. A beast of a specimen with tiger shark traits and fins longer than my entire body. He was already being claimed by the bottom feeders, and¡­


    I swam down at once, spotting a glint of silver where the battle had taken place. A strange earring with the same luster as Hogaz''s tattoos.


    "I was wondering if you were actually going to wear it." Came a tiny voice in my ear a moment later.


    "H- Hogaz?" I nearly shouted, turning about. "Where have you gone?"


    "I let the merman capture me," he playfully said. "Hopefully, he''s bringing me to a party."


    "They are from the Mob, Hogaz! The MerMob! You cannot take them alone!"


    "I''m not alone."


    "Y- you know what I mean!" I stammered. "The two of us c-"


    "Look up."


    "Wha-" the words escaped my tongue as my gaze fell upon a giant silver turtle with a bubble for a shell. And surrounding it were¡­ "orcas?"


    "That''s the Moontear. My ship. Climb aboard. My crew is expecting you."


    There was a mix of old and young faces across several species aboard the exotically luxurious ship; all dressed like pirates and all boasting the same silver tattoos as Hogaz.


    "My name is High Prince Zohnos Lagunath of the Ettrainyar Dominion. We have been ambushed by members of the Merman criminal syndicate known as the MerMob. They seek to collect a bounty on my head. Will need to hurry if we are to help Hogaz."


    "The Admiral will be fine." A stern-looking half-orc approached, nonchalantly waving off the situation while palming her stomach with her free hand. "I''m the Quartermaster of the Moontear, Janestra Briggs."


    "Well met. However-" I lowered my head and was subsequently interrupted by her pointing to a vibrant pane of glass or a moving painting showing a small coral hut; an obvious safe house.


    "He''s already at the merman''s base. We''re just waiting for the order."


    I shook my head. "What order?"


    "FIRE!"


    When the window screamed with Hogaz''s voice, a deep thrum could be felt reverberating through the ship not a moment later. It seemed to concentrate above us before an exotic wail pierced the silence, ejecting a thin pillar of silver light to slam down on Hogaz''s position. Utterly destroying it.


    As insanely brutal as it was, I understood the tactic immediately. "It''s no different from having someone rain lightning on me." I cackled madly. "How crazy you are, allies of mine!"


    "You ain''t seen nothing yet," came a familiar chortle to my rear. And I needn''t even turn to see the silver-tusked half-orc beaming behind me. "What say you we accompany each other to Redagh? We''re headed that way anyway."

 369 - Reinstated

    Borghildr Wangum.


    Half-Dwarven/Human.


    26th of Trescia, 1492.


    Chor, Nevstan Principality.


    09:30


    ***


    Last night was something. And that was saying something, ''cause five nights ago was something too. And many nights before.


    They all started like any other night since my retirement as the so-called ''Mind of the Cherku.'' At the Purple Leopard. On a private terrace where I could look out at the not-so-dreary sky as I soaked up the rewards of my bullshit title. A title of bullshit, born from the sole fact that I was the only general in the regiment''s history to not be put there by nepotism. I was the only competent bitch in charge since its formation in 1267. And now that I was gone, it was some other daughter of a bastard''s job to make the unit serviceable. To top it all off, it was all accomplished before my 48th birthday. Not bad for a runaway Mazian.


    To make matters better, things only got more interesting once the Bodhi Tree students we watched fight last year traveled to these here lands. Ever since the Cole kid and Sir Edward arrived in Bakewia, things got even better. The bards started playing new instruments in newer styles. New products from Bakewia came in; and with them came carriages that could power themselves, boxes that could hold a dragon''s hoard, weird tablets, and strange crystals that let me talk to my contacts or witness some quite outrageous things without leaving the comforts of my home, now floating among the birds.


    For the most part, life was good. From the comforts of my balcony above and my terrace below, I watched Sir Edward''s massive forces enter and rebuild every section of the Principality''s border wall and the walls of each city in days. I watched Pascal Industries revolutionize transportation in no time flat, connecting the City of Chor to the Bakewian capitol of Shavew via an elevated network of wide, winding roads that didn''t impose on nature. It was the same as his Guild Master, who revolutionized communication with his data slates, terminals, and the ManaNet in no time flat. That was the mark of competence I so admired. The thing that got me to this position. Something I wished was present in my ranks for at every waking moment back in my days. But alas, such times were long gone.


    So I thought until yesterday, when the so-called worlds woven above produced miracle after miracle, changing virtually everything for everyone across the Peninsula before that¡­ divine beam was sent across the World Sea, changing everything else, everywhere else.


    I could not speak for anyone else, but when the blue wave flooded my home, miscellaneous items I''d procured over the years glowed with that same energy; cleaning or repairing themselves or, in some cases, upgrading themselves to work autonomously, powered by that same blue hue that seemed to never fade away. The other waves of silver and gold produced effects as well. Strange dreams or feelings of nostalgia, mostly. But those were tame in comparison to that deep blue infused into my home and more. My carriage grew a sleeker body of metal and roared to life with a satisfying growl before settling down in wait. One of my data slates - the first one I procured - grew to the size of a window and fastened itself to my wall where it pinged, releasing torrents of energy that carved archaic veins through the walls, connecting it to everything from my braziers, hearth, and kitchen, to the lights, windows, and doors; powering them through a most peculiar force.


    I went to sleep last night, eager about the prospects of another day of tinkering mixed with some Legion-watching and a side of dour reminiscing. Only to be interrupted in the mid-morning by a triage of knocks.


    My overgrown data slate reacted before I did, sharing what the scrying eye was gazing upon outside my surface gate. A most surprising face; shocking and relieving all the same, unlike those accompanying him, developing a fearful seed of disappointment I readily acknowledged. I tried to stomp it out on the walk across the garden and mostly succeeded by curiosity alone. Mostly because it dominated the equation, resulting in me greeting the leader of my four guests with levels of rude candor only an elder could get away with.


    "Sir Edward Pascal." I began as I eased the door open. "I don''t know if I should be worried or hopeful about your arrival." He and his cohort remained silent throughout the action, seeming to give me time to come to terms with the exotic sight of his three companions and the massive¡­ thing behind them.


    It looked like they killed a massive centipede before knocking on my gate. A centipede with many cogs for a body, metal spires for antennae, and mechanical staircases for legs. Moreover, Sir Edward looked just as exotic. He had strange lines running along his body - seams, almost. Or... groves like the ones in my home. Tiny, glowing things. They ran up his neck from his collarbones to the thumbnail-sized gear insignias on his temples, subtly glowing with a gray-blue light. And that was just the outside.


    All things considered, the kids accompanying him only made it weirder. Well, only one was around Ed''s age, a Strifling kid with blue skin and quite exotic horns. Ram-like but flat and curved to cross at the back of the head like a half-helm. The eldest of them was a halfling, probably in her twenties, with smoky eyes magnified by her spectacles and a blue-gray beret fitted to her head. The other girl was a gnome, perhaps in her early twenties, but it was hard to tell with her child-like exuberance. All she wore besides her goggles, smithy apron, blue tunic, and bandanna were gauntlets, a pauldron, and a set of heavy greaves.


    It was quite the sight.


    "General Wangum, a pleasure." Edward politely bowed, rising into a chortle. "Unfortunately, there was no asbestos here. If there was, we could have talked sooner."


    "Oh? You must not have wanted to see me badly enough. Else, you would have found a reason." I playfully jeered. To which he amiably shrugged, as if to surrender to the point.


    "I come on behalf of my Legion; the Cogs of Eotrom. These are some of my first officers," he said, gesturing to first the halfling, then the strifling, then the gnome. "This is Grand Master Civil Chief Yerda Sprigmore, Noctis Marshal Lahkrius, and Grand Master Chief Engineer Zazz."


    "Quite the long titles." I openly mused.


    Sir Ed shrugged again. "Everything is a work in progress."


    "Hah! I appreciate the candor." I cackled, stepping aside. "Come in. I''ve got no tea, so ale, spirits, or water are your choices."


    "We''ll have what you''re having." He tactfully answered and otherwise remained silent while those worn bones of mine guided them further in.


    I wasn''t so patient. "So not only are you a Grandmaster Artificer, but you''re a new cleric as well?" I wowed in disbelief, gesturing to the divinely radiant skull of rivets, screws, plates, and rods dangling from his neck. "To whom?"


    "To the one who made that." He said, pointing his chin at the data slate in my hand. "The ArcaTech."


    "So the rumors are true?" I eased myself into my chair with a great sigh, thankful the drinks began serving themselves since yesterday''s events. Speaking of¡­ "So all of that from yesterday was Amun''s doing? His ascension, I presume. He''s truly a living God? Of what?"


    "Yeah," was all the young Grandmaster Artificer said. Yet my data slate - the one on the wall - chimed with a message sent from Sir - or rather, from Imperator Edward Pascal.


    Through cascading images and what seemed to be memories implanted in my mind, I saw glimpses into a realm of efficiency and competence I had never imagined possible, and one I could hardly comprehend. Moonlight, Twilight, Mana, and Engineering. An Empire that stretched from the depths of the Darkworld to the void above the skies and beyond to a divine realm. Legions of demigods who inherited the abilities of the godly leaders. Explorers of the Mortal Plane. I saw the Legio Noctis.


    I saw an offer. An invitation. And it arrived most strangely.


    "I''m here to ask if you''re going to spend the rest of your life drinking in Chor?"


    "Hah! Look who thinks he''s hot shit!" I boisterously rocked in my chair. "Can''t say it''s undeserved, though. The Legions may be in its infancy, but you run a tight unit, I''ll give you that. However, I''m a retired lady o'' war coming upon my third half-century. My days of fighting are long gone. Drinkin'' in Chor is all this worn body o'' mine can do."


    "I''m not asking you to fight." Imperator Pascal shook his head. "That would be a disservice to your accomplishments. I''m asking you to be my General of generals. As for your body." He leaned back, shrugging with a childish grin. "Allow me to show you how that won''t be an issue."


    My personal data slate chimed before I could answer and I responded it reflexively, finding the small crystal emitting the image of a domineering suit of heavy armor. It had red-glowing goggles lined with gears that stared menacingly from beneath a domed, almost mushroom-shaped helmet. Whatever mask it held was hidden beneath a wedged plate with holes stamped across the face. The pauldrons, collar, gauntlets, and greaves were all accented with gears. Otherwise, it was a standard suit of armor, adorned with a rucksack of some sort that gave it the shape of a slim turtle shell.


    "Grim Gear was the legendary armor I created to become a Grandmaster Armorer," Ed explained. "It is Power Armor. Meaning, the servos and motors within the inbuilt exoskeleton move the armor in tune with the user''s body, markedly enhancing their physical prowess. All versions completely seal the wearer inside and use various machinations to keep the wearer alive. As such, they are completely isolated and protected from environmental hazards, whether it be fire, poison, or a lakebed. Mark, or Version One, was created for those with no magic and uses no magic. or enchantments to function. Instead, it holds an easily interchangeable and rechargeable power pack, giving it a limited operation."


    I understood the implications at once. Yet the image burst to life to produce a sleeker but larger copy of the Grim Gear. Then, another copy appeared, then another and another, each more sleek and refined than the last until it was just Sir Edward''s visage beneath the label, ''Grim Gear Mk VI, Integrated.''


    I could only stare at the comparatively small visage of Sir - Imperator Pascal, as I re-read the titles and descriptions of each Grim Gear variant in disbelief, for I knew of nowhere on the Mortal Plane where something like this was issued to a military force so freely. That would have been true if what Sir Edward said was the whole of it. What he didn''t mention about being ''keeping the wearer alive,'' was that the pack provided water, medicine, and some type of nutritious pills to tubes or dispensers within the mask, which itself could filter toxins out of the air and recycle spent breath underwater. If that wasn''t enough, it used cooling loops to maintain a pleasant temperature in sub-zero or scalding conditions and had many of the same functions as my data slate in those goggles, mask, and helm; including the communications devices and illusory vision - or augmented reality. And that was just the first version.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Grim Gear Mk II was another set of mithral armor with all the aforementioned capabilities, but it was powered by a host of enchantments that negated the need for a rechargeable power supply, effectively making the operative range indefinite. Moreover, the magical materials and enchantments allowed the communications, life support, and witch ''modules'' to be smaller while still enhancing their capabilities, enabling the armor to thrive in much more extreme conditions. Overall, the liberated space had been opened to fit and power interchangeable modules that ranged from recycling and crafting devices to storage units, witchcraft tools, and occupation-specific equipment. And yet, the armor was still made larger, being almost Juggernaut-sized.


    Grim Gear Mk III was essentially the same as Mk II. The key differences were the additional enchantments and the adamantine it was made with. Because of the latter, the suit was slimmed down to the size of traditional heavy plate armor, yet was compensated by an assortment of enchantments primed by Imperator Ed himself, allowing for smoke screens, force fields, thrusters, and tungsten projectiles on top of the negated magnetism born from a magnetic enchantment.


    Grim Gear Mk IV saw the adamantine armor be skimmed further, putting it on par with scale mail in terms of size. Moreover, every component, layer, or piece of the armor was somehow infused with various magical affinities at a fundamental level, allowing analogs of each module to exist between the layers. This cleared the support pack''s innards and thus made space for larger occupation-specific modules.


    Naturally, the same was the case for the Grim Gear Mk V. Only, it was made using the exotic materials born in Amun''s divine realm of Eotrom. Things I was ignorant of, of course. But I was not ignorant of their effects - some of them.


    One of them.


    Noxweave was a fabric woven with the mutated forms of Faerie Flax privy to Eotrom and her Legions. Above all others, it had the ability to permanently link its fabric to its wearer. Not through their body, but their soul. Their equipment - this Grim Gear would remain with them past death, which cemented the only potential problem with this ordeal.


    "All I gotta do is sell my soul."


    Much to my surprise, Imperator Edward Pascal didn''t shy away from that fact. On the contrary, he rolled his head and shrugged as if it was something he casually forgot to mention.


    "Well." He began. "That''s true. But in a way, it''s no different from forming a pact with or being the follower of another God, Devil, Fae, or anything else. The only difference is that this pact will bring you into the greatest guild to ever exist, the Legio Noctis. You will become a warlock along with the rest of us in a few months, a Prime Noctis Legionary - a founder. And, you''ll personally know and work beside your patron - me. Amun too."


    Pausing, he nodded to the little gnome, bringing my eyes to the four sarcophagi she pulled from seemingly nowhere. "This is what will happen should you agree."


    The blue-gray stone of the sarcophagi was emblazoned with the likeness of that leafless tree we were taught to be fearfully respectful of as children; and centered beneath it was a goat''s skull of smoky-gray bolts, rivets, screws, and other such things, with coiled wrenches for horns and eyes the same blue-gray as Sir Edward''s temples. One for the Strifling, one for the halfling, one for the gnome, and one for me; should I agree.


    The little gnome cheekily palmed her sarcophagus, and it replied immediately, standing on end with an abruptness that forced me back a step. A pulse of blue-gray light bathed the room as the others followed suit, each of their sarcophagi hissing as they unfurled to unveil Mk V Grim Gears tailored to fit their likenesses. The one for the gnome even omitted the one greave and the sole pauldron she wore, and they were all surrounded by an array of exotic machinery, tools, weapons, and other unknown devices.


    Like the sarcophagus, the Grim Gear reacted to her presence as she stepped behind it, opening its back from helm to boots with satisfying clicks to reveal a snugly inviting interior illuminated in blue-gray light. Yet she did not approach it. Instead, she waited for her companions, and me, to follow suit.


    Despite my reservations, I made my decision long ago. I took the opportunity readily, feeling like a little girl again as my sarcophagus hissed and unfurled to reveal a similar suit built to my size. My eyes were drawn to the four counters that fell from the walls of my sarcophagus, however. They slammed into the ground and thrummed as they expanded their cores, lifting their surfaces to reveal glass shelves filled with clothes, blades, maps, and various other things. The one closest to me held a quilted uniform dyed in the same colors as the sarcophagus; made with that same eldritch material. Looking at it- running my finger over it - birthed understanding. Knowledge of what I would become and what would be asked of me should I don this armor. Understanding of the demands I could make in exchange.


    By the time those thoughts came and went, the little gnome had already stepped inside, her suit retracting to seal around her back and pulse with light. As the other two joined, the room was quickly filled with the luminosity of their gear and a chorus of clicks erupting from those angular veins crawling throughout their armor.


    Whatever it was, seemed to work like the grandmaster artificer''s perks, breaking apart the armor into finger-sized rectangles that detached, shifted, lifted, or rotated before collapsing deeper into the frame. But whereas those perks would deconstruct or recycle those pieces, these kept cascading. The mushroom-helm kept shifting. Kept shrinking. Collapsing in on itself until her puffy afro, brown skin, apron, and tunic appeared amidst the chaos.


    "Yesterday saw significant changes to the Peninsula." Imperator Pascal began, pulling my attention away from the others, scurrying about their counters. "Naturally, we Primes significantly changed as well. Blessings from Amun. One of my changes saw my legendary armor meld with my flesh, turning me into an augmented human. This is the Grim Gear Mk VI!" he declared, spreading his arms to his companions.


    "My solution to my frailty." I gasped in disbelief, for I truly disbelieved he chose me above all others for this role. Not to mention¡­ "And this power that''s passed down to your subordinates, Integration? I''m guessing that''s your other... blessing?"


    "How intuitive." He beamed wide like the kid he was. "That''s exactly why I came to you, General."


    Saying nothing more, the Imperator pointed to the Strifling, holding his forefinger and thumb in a ''C'' shape over a wrench before invoking another cascade of energy. Like the armor, it broke apart into smaller pieces that cascaded into his hand, leaving his fingers curved and angled like a proper wrench until that too faded, and his fingers returned to normal. Then he went on to repeat the action with the various tools strewn about his first counter. Blades, axes, hammers, shovels, shears, pliers, and more common tools.


    "Integration is a type of Technomancy." The Imperator answered before I could ask, though it explained little, even as he pressed on. "An ability you will obtain, should you agree. However, it won''t be a sorcerous ability like mine."


    "Warlock magic." I nodded. "Eldritch magic."


    "Between that, the Gear, and the means to create what we please, bodily weaknesses, injuries, and even age means nothing. But this is not done out of a want or need for power. The Noctis Legions are on a mission to bring true peace to Maru. After that, we''re exploring the Mortal Plane. In its entirety."


    I took a second to think about it, but only a second. I may have been a Mazian runaway, but I wasn''t dumb. And while I said what I said earlier, it was natural to at least be reluctant when one discussed the transaction of one''s soul. But this... this was different. While devils, Children of the Nox were a different breed. And this one was a God among mortals. I wasn''t one to pass up a legendary opportunity that came knocking at my door. At least not without conditions. Insignificant, though they may have been.


    All I demanded for my service as the 3rd Legion''s Prime General was the safety of my daughter, my grandson, and their families; and, should they accept, for the same opportunity to enter these ranks.


    While I knew what I was feeling when I spoke those words, I knew not how I felt to hear Imperator Pascal''s immediate response. It was almost as if nothing was off limits from the start, thus there was never a need for him to ponder a reply. Simultaneously, I remembered - relived my studies in the Bardic College of Leadership, mended the foundation that had grown so worn since my induction into the military, and grasped the chains around my heart as I remembered my Oath to Protect; and I saw a much broader horizon to care after.


    I could focus on neither of those things, however, for time seemed to freeze for everything except for us the moment my last word was spent. We and the data slate fastened into the wall, which was now glowing with deep blue energy and pulsing in tune with the voice of a young girl.


    "Hey, Uncle Ed!"


    The Imperator reeled back as much as we did. "I- Iris?"


    "Yup!" the voice chimed. "Well, a digital clone. But same thing. Anyway, I''ve been waiting for you to find a general so I can sponsor your Legion. We''re all doing it!"


    "We?"


    "The Troupe!" She beamed. "Naturally, I picked yours."


    Ed remained silent for a second or two, his eyes flicking between nothing in particular until he reeled back in understanding. "Ah!" was all he said.


    "Anyway, I''m going to give your Legion some additional augmentations and give you three something special," she said, somehow changing the screen to an image of me, the Strifling, and the halfling. "Step inside your Grim Gear, please!"


    I wish I could describe some surreal feeling of easing inside the Gear. The most notable part was that it took some time, even with help. Inside, it felt like being enveloped in a stiff pillow that kept my body upright; and when the pulse came, it only tickled. The cascade felt like coarse sand or soft rocks- perhaps marshmallows, falling onto my skin and somehow sinking to the depths of my being. After, however...


    After the cascade, it was like I''d taken my first breath of fresh air after breathing smoke for my entire life; and in lungs that were brand new. What before was the thoughtless action of breathing became apparent when more air than normal entered my lungs. With it came a wave of strangeness that I only realized in hindsight to be the smells of a hundred things once blind to my nose, mixed with the richness of oxygen.


    At that moment, I felt giddy; unhealthily so. Like I was on the verge of passing out. Colors I never thought possible. Sounds once imperceptible to my ears. Sensations, scents, and tantalizing tastes. I felt as if I would be overwhelmed by these things I was once blind to. Yet, the enhancement of my mind saw each of those stimuli be acknowledged, analyzed, and categorized alongside the details of the beings in front of me before I had the thought to exhale. Then¡­ clarity.


    "My sponsorship includes my children dwelling in the Cogipede, plus some blessings to enhance your Integration ability, allowing you to integrate into external frames." Iris, the Tech Goddess of Eotrom, rattled away while schematics detailing beasts of machinery and the things they produced flowed through my mind like a river; and at the height of those products were three sentient crystals.


    "Also, I''m giving these to every Legion''s Prime Marshal, Grandmaster Civil Chief, and General. Well, I only wanted to give them to the Generals. But they only want to coexist with their siblings." She tutted. Then the information started flowing again. "Anyway, do you accept?"


    "Naturally." I nodded after Imperator Pascal''s agreement.


    I habitually squinted as three bright stars appeared beneath my ceiling, then recoiled in surprise once I noticed my new eyes adjusting themselves and more, telling me the exact luminosity of the lights of red, blue, and green. Their properties and compositions too, and the trajectories they would follow as the sentient crystals descended to their chosen ones.


    Although I was focused on neither of them, I saw the pear-cut sapphire snap into the naval of GrandMaster Civil Chief Yerda Sprigmore and integrate itself into his frame to form a regal belt, buckled by the Pious Patron, Preston.


    So too did I see the octagon-cut ruby secure itself around the neck of Prime Marshal Lahkrius and integrate itself into the buckle of his mantle, jeweled by the Mazer Matron, Molly.


    I saw them, Grandmaster Chief Engineer Zazz Zeelba, and Imperator Pascal, just as clearly as I saw the Marquise-cut emerald slam into the center of my brow to form what felt like a third eye. Then, everything changed.


    My mind- my mental prowess skyrocketed in ways that allowed me to see into the records and lives of the thousands of souls who also joined these Legions so mighty; all in mere seconds.


    "I truly could not comprehend the breadth of this organization until now." I gasped. "Still in its infancy. Still growing. None will be able to imagine it in just a few short years."


    "Few ever will, according to my projections," an unfamiliar voice said. Androgynous, sourceless, and mechanical, yet familiar, and in tune with a pulsing green gear persisting at the edge of my vision. "Oh, pardon my lack of manners. I am your Honorable Heir, Harper. It is a pleasure to be working with you, General Wangum."


    ''Likewise." I bowed, more in my mind than with my body; for that was occupied by a screen not unlike the one from my data slate floating before my eyes.


    {You have received an invitation from the Praefectus Noctis to: The Game.}


    {Do you accept?}


    An array of lines filled my eyes the moment I accepted, causing something to birth blue auras around those in the room while my consciousness and vision swelled beyond it. Imperator Pascal and the others still glowed with that blue aura as my floating home fell away, becoming an insignificant speck, opening my eyes to a million more things that''d been marked, highlighted, and annotated across an ever-expanding board. Resources; entities, enemies, and our allies moving about them; diagrams or models showed what could or should be done in any place and by whom.


    From the edge of the skies to the depths of the Darkworld, I could see all the Bodhi Peninsula on a table before me. Yet, I lifted my gaze to its rim and saw others poised around the table, making calculations with their emerald circlets pulsing like mine. Other beings like me. Augmented, not with the Grim Gear, but with Honorable Heirs.


    The Prime Generals of the Legions; gathered in a ring around the Praefectus Noctis.

 370 - Relapse Refrain

    27th of Trescia, 1492.


    ***


    While I was the Eternal God of this universe, I was merely at the first stage of my evolution. A Demi-Eternal. Higher in station and yet lesser in power than the prominent deities of the Mortal Plane. As such, there were many things I could not see, and more I could not touch.


    Therein was the reason for the cloth. Therein was the reason for Champions. Mortals could do all sorts of things for the sake of their Gods. Mortals given divine power could do great things to the Plane of Mortals. Mortals given divine power and ''immortality'' could do nearly anything. Especially for me, Amun of the Nox.


    So it was. I made the leaders of my cloth ''immortal.'' ''Immortal'' in differing ways. Divine beasts and mortals merged by a touch of the Moon; vampires of unseen light and gilded darkness, bisected by the pervasive gloom sensed by all things sentient.


    So it was. The leaders of my cloth made their mirrors ''immortal.'' ''Immortal'' in the same ways as them. Moontouched or Vampyric knights, riders, clerics, paladins, witches, and monks. The wrath of the void above and the plagues of the darkness below, bisected by the silent scourge that was my 11th Legion; the Lordlings.


    They were my looking glasses to those places hidden behind fleshy webs, gnarled forests, and exotic spellcraft. They were the hands that would stealthily rip them asunder with the power of the word and the pen, coupled with time. They were the keys that would open the proverbial gates, allowing the wrath and plagues to destroy the foundation of what existed and make what remained fall, never to rise again.


    As was above, so was below. What was before would come to pass next. What was next would come to pass later; and later; and later, for the risen had been perched for too long without seeing their branches sway. Thus, the Fall would rise to rule for just as long. These things and much more were to be preceded by Gloom, heralded by her riders.


    It was with such a mind that I paid as much attention to the Lordlings as I did the Darkroom and the core of my home world. En route to Shujen, the Purveyors of Gloom bore witness to the changes brought to the Bodhi Peninsula after that burst of energy was sent to Maru. In doing so, Elijah felt the essence of being an explorer in the entirety of his being. From that mirthful feeling came a power that saw his visage shine like a star from my recline on Mani''s surface. However, the energy that birthed the aura witnessed through my Divine Sight resembled a stream of golden particles that flowed into the glowing cylinder above my Mana Well, where it was molded, folded, and forged until it imploded into divine mana that flowed in several streams.


    The smallest of those streams leaked directly from the Divine Well into the small antechamber before it; the Orison Vestibule, if only because the Lordlings were not the type of zealots to pray; only worship. And not to me, to Cononthoth. The Exalted Gloom that bisected me and my dark twin, Numa; the Owl. The spiritually divine ring around my heart that was the Piety Nave, on the other hand, melded my divine mana into something akin to a super-powered bolstering ability that only worked sometimes. Here, it fueled my eyes with the means to gaze upon every significant thing on Shujen''s surface and not much of what was below with ease.


    Again, the energy needed to fuel the toroidal organ was negligible. Unlike the Credence Cortex, relatively speaking, but only because of choice. According to all I''ve learned, I quickly became a ''hands-on'' God after the neural net-like structure grew in my spiritual body''s cerebral cortex. It cost me nothing to use it, after all, and being present in the minds of my followers without my physical presence was an invaluable tool as a leader. When coupled with the limited omniscience given by the Diadem of Empyrean Facultas and the ability to perform ''miracles'' with the Metaphysical Form, I could command my Legions and govern my Empire from anywhere, and in the most obscure ways. Ways that were limited only by the wisdom of my followers.


    Even the energy required by those two things was small compared to the divine mana that flowed through the hollow, liver-like organ next to the Divine Well, however. The Divine Sea was, as the name implied, a shallow sea infused with every aspect of my divine profile. For the most part, it was to be withdrawn conditionally only. Or rather, that was the case with the Divine Pool. Now, the organ had a tumor-like growth- a tap that flooded the sea with arcana and covered it with a compressed atmosphere of mana.


    Simply by existing, it made the arcana within latch on to the darkest, most draconian parts of my portfolio that had been leaking into Elijah''s spirit, along with some engineering essence. Then, just like everyone else''s, it was returned to its sender, enabling him to explore with greater zeal in a perpetual feedback loop of prowess. Enabling me to peer through his senses, feelings, and spirit from the comfort of my world.


    The changes born to the Bodhi Peninsula made him and thus I feel like I was traveling through a new realm. Each meter gained brought a discovery, an observation that made one want to investigate and learn all there was to know about this Era of Arcana the Bodhi Tree now found itself in. But it was not so simple as that. Such things were to be fought for. Just as nature intended.


    As my Imperators had grown, so too had the Peninsula grown. So too had its bestial denizens grown. So too had the sapient species grown. So too had its civilizations. And so, the eternal game for dominance had been revamped like never before. Everyone from the homesteaders and city-states below to the castles and islands that had risen into the sky had to fight for each meter gained- each noted observation, each show of dominance.


    Just as nature intended.


    Veins and arteries of wide roads made of black stone branched from the tunnel Elijah had carved not so long ago, winding across the entirety of Ligin to connect any settled place with Rhar and Chaulort without having them venture through Kasia. They were elevated too, with multi-leveled overland bridges that generally left nature untouched, for nature had been touched in other ways. That became most apparent when I ''joined'' Elijah on his venture across Vruria, where the black roads seamlessly morphed into avenues of petrified woody vines woven atop the canopy of the greater and much darker forest. Yet vines of metal grew on those structures like all the ones before, repairing them whenever the divine beasts of Vruria got too close in their game of dominance; which was a near constant.


    All of that was not to say there were no safe havens, however. Shujen was the complete opposite of what I''d seen on my walk. Those same elevated roads of black stone were present, emitting steam from the banks of snow at their borders. However, smaller roads branching off them led not to cities or abodes but to training fields, firing ranges, mock villages, and other such structures manned by the very undying bodies that once followed me across the frozen land. Wizards, bards, and artificers swarmed them in droves, firing their spells, thrumming their instruments, and activating their machinations on the undead for a fee or venturing out to challenge the orcs, goblins, and humans dwelling out in the wilds.


    They had seen change too, however. Their tents were more easily collapsible, capable of being carried by their person rather than a pack beast. Their weapons were heartier, capable of bursting through their reinforced huts and the heightened gear of the testers with ease. Singular structures, towering like grand cathedrals, sat where each sprawling but modest city used to be, surrounded by fields of greenhouses that no doubt extended deep below ground. Their exotic interiors were heated perfectly and filled with archways, bridges, terraces, and floors that seemed to grow as organically as the grasses and trees on the ground floor.


    The only exception was Dryndrabethei. There was no grand cathedral-like structure dominating the land. Only a 2-kilometer tall mound of dirt and stone, some 5 kilometers in diameter, anchored into the ground via a moat of an umbral draconic alchemists-fire. A mountain stronghold inhabited by a colossal form of hermit crab. A crab that died, melded with machines and rose in undeath to become an Uma. Elijah''s Zeta-Class Uma. Model: Modular Mound Crab-Crawler: Mt. Zelbus.


    That was not Elijah''s destination, however. Nor was it the reason I was paying so much attention to him. The city itself was no different from what it had been when I left it. Albeit cleaner.


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    They landed at the gate and had their mounts parade them between the saluting undead, who boasted a surprising number of civilians gazing upon them in ways that birthed auras of gilded darkness around their frames. Within moments, it became clear to Elijah and his crew that they were no ordinary citizens, however. It was less their closeness to the undead and more the presence of the one at the end of their path. A young man who smelled of death and reeked of holiness. A gray man. In his twenties, perhaps, with skin as pale and radiant as the moon. His skin was marked with deep blue veins of circuitry around the wrists and temples in ways that made a stark contrast to the sea-green gleam in his eyes, born from the heart of arcana beating in his spiritual chest.


    His hair had grown into an inky black mane that swayed majestically as he spread his arms in response to my bow. "Thou hast experienced the joys of rebirth, as hast myself. Noctis Sage. Shadowfire Emperor. And so, thou shall receive thine Umbra Emperor."


    Ignoring me rolling my eyes, Zaraxus swept his hand, bringing Elijah''s attention to a rotund man munching on a turkey leg with abject disinterest. He swirled his chalice in response to his cue and only stared while Elijah eyed his silken doublet, dyed the same crimson purple as his.


    "The Glutton declared power and lordship his soul-bound desires. Thus, the Owl made it excessively so; both his wish and his avarice. Learned, wealthy, and cultured, is he. Imbibed with power, he is yet not. For thine glutton is still mortal. Take him, Imperator. Turn him. Therein I shall do the same."


    Understanding precisely what he meant, Elijah motioned for the Glutton to follow him to the moat of black and gray liquid where a marble sarcophagus sat in wait. The drunk Glutton I made a deal with back in Shavew followed without words. At least until Elijah reached out to the arcana surrounding the exotic liquid and guided it into the coffin. Even then, however, it was only a soft "Hmm?" of curiosity as he tossed his turkey leg aside to focus on Elijah filling the vessel with fresh blood pulled from the stores of his world.


    The procedure went as it did days ago in the Deep Dark. Only, it was much more foul. So much alcohol was in the Glutton''s blood that Elijah staggered back just as he did. But where the Glutton fell lifelessly into a pool of blood and liquid Shadowfire, his chalice still clutched tightly in hand; Elijah arched forward and hacked at the searing pain burning through his throat while his mind swayed from the horrid taste lingering on his tongue.


    He coughed and inhaled what felt like a beetle as the influx of draconian energy from his master entered him. It went in and up to the nasopharynx, where it skittered and scratched a vacuole that made his throat burn until his mouth was smoldering, smoking in between the belches of Shadowfire- Cononthoth''s divine birthright.


    Simultaneously, a soothingly icy feeling ran down his spine as the rest of her energy spread across his back in ways that shielded his uncouth actions from those behind him. Yet, he could not focus on those Phantom Wings. For one, he knew already the result of his evolution; and two, he was far more curious about what would emerge from the draining fluid of the sarcophagus before him.


    The first thing to be seen was the Glutton''s chalice, still clutched tightly in hand atop his belly. There, it remained, filled to the brim, even as the rotund vampire spawn craned his neck to slurp every drip of blood from his new bed and emerged to bow before his master- his father, Elijah.


    What before was pale and bloated skin was now a tanned veil of perfection. Every blemish, scar, and pockmark was gone and his once-brown hair was now jet-black. And while his new fangs were tailored to puncturing arteries, he still couldn''t help but sink his teeth into a virtually raw lamb leg taken from a nearby skeleton. He still sipped on his blood wine, even while Zaraxus took him into the darkness to meet me. Or rather, a facsimile of me.


    Although there would only be a few of them, the creation process for Noctis Sages was essentially automated. There would be nothing new to gain from witnessing his evolution in person. Not even the unique branch of technology developed for the 11th Legion. Namely, because it was being shown to me in real-time.


    So it was. My attention remained with Elijah as they entered Mt. Zelbus from a lift in the bottom, finding the crab''s cephalothorax to be a standard military-industrial complex powered by the Blood Armament Magic given to him by Opal, infused with Cononthoth''s darkness - Shadowblood Tech.


    The reservoirs within the vessel were quickly filled with blood by Cerere and Finn''s Lords of Industry, giving the amorphous darkness inside something with substance to aggregate into and flow through the walls. The Shadowblood majorly went inside the legs, where parts of it utilized the iron in the blood to form solid pistons, gears, levers, and other components or reform into missing panels or conduits. They were put into motion by the rest of the liquid acting as a working fluid to pump and churn in the recesses of the weapon stations, maintenance areas, docking bays, and similar posts, soon helmed by Siv and Leontios'' Lords of War.


    By then, Civil Chief Aglaia was ascending into the Uma to bring those chosen by Zaraxus and the Glutton into the abdomen with Tiplux and Muirgen''s Lords of Law, where they delved into the work required to turn Shujen into a place of order beneath the nose of Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel. Once done, the Civil Chief joined them in the space beneath the Uma''s eyes, where Raginhard and Aquila''s Lords of Commerce focused on the recreational needs of the Legion and the lands in which they were stationed.


    Their CIC was an oval room composed of a shallow pit filled with iron sand. Surrounding it were eight pairs of plush inverted thrones with machinations that ran deep into the crab''s carapace and deeper into its mountainous shell. Their frames of black stone were pierced, pieced together, and powered by their Shadowblood Technology like everything else, connecting them to everything in their domain. Connecting Elijah to a tap that released and mixed the blood in his body with the draconian darkness in his spirit wholly.


    Into the pipes and chambers above his seat, it flowed, coursing through the metallic veins and arteries stretching through the carapace of his Undying Machine Animal and erupting through the mountain stone that was its shell. Closing his eyes, he listened to the soothing sound of a heartbeat thumping gently. Softly, yet with purpose. Pulses reverberated throughout the space, opening the red and gold eyes above them to illuminate the chamber. Bangs, clanks, and thunks bounced through the body of the Uma as its legs kicked to life with a deep groan. Hisses and moans preceded the aromatic scent of blood entering their noses before it flowed into the pit they surrounded, signaling Nigel''s voice to ring their ears and silence the many processes going on in the background.


    "All systems online," said the 11th Prime Lore Skull, Nigel. "Welcome home, Lordlings. And please be reintroduced to the Glutton. Or, as Master Zaraxus crowned him before the denizens of Shujen, King Darden Surela."


    While he looked the same, every Lordling present could feel the same arcane heart pumping in his chest as the one held by Zaraxus. So too could they feel the Twilight melded with the wickedness in him, forming the building blocks for the ArcaTech''s Essence to build a foundation out of and later, for Wilson to construct something on top of.


    Their technology was made into an ability- a mutation to the flesh and bone that came as a crate of bottles held out by the Glutton. "Courtesy of your sponsor, the Eldritch Engineer."


    It tasted the same as the blood grown on the vineyards of his world, Nocturne, and now here; albeit with an inky taste that seemed to nestle in the roof of his mouth and permeate the tissue within. Then he felt it, the power of blood-stained darkness. The iron within his stockpiled blood flowed into his muscles and nerves, forming them into thick bundles of corded fibers and piped networks of anti-optic fibers. The same darkness within those fibers flowed through his mind in a way similar to the neural network of an augmented being. It flowed into his very genes, changing his cells to adopt several attributes on the macroscale; all powered and enriched by the blood on which he feasted.


    It was a grand ability. An ability gifted only to the Primes of his Legion and those who would one day enter the 11th Legion''s black ops unit, the Royals. But that was to be observed another day, and what was witnessed just now was only the play before the work.


    The moment the orders were sent, Elijah had a thought that saw the pit below them spread a bloodied mist above its surface, wherein it reformed into the trees, huts, tents, buildings, and cathedral-like structures spread across Shujen. Filling them all and spreading more about them were figurines of iron dust animated by the beating heart of his home. In tandem with the actions of those above, they moved and went about their lives. Unknowing of the fact that while change was constant, its rate fluctuates; and such fluctuations had already begun in Shujen.


    Another thought saw the map reform with a focus on their position, where their Uma was shown to split at the spires and disperse to the cardinal directions to occupy the underground of the counties and territories surrounding my path and El-Did county.


    The exception was Kariril Territory, in the central stretch of the Nevstan border. It began just a few dozen kilometers to the southeast of Dryndrabethei and thus would be assimilated into the Glutton''s territory- Alerus County. There, they would do as they were ordered. They would recruit, train, and educate the leaders of their future battalions, companies, platoons, and squads to operate- to govern their areas of operation from the shadows; further influencing the people of Shujen to seek undeath rather than having them be comfortable with their rule. Simultaneously, they would begin working to install, fill, and form Warp Points, Legion Lairs, Noctis Caches, and Spatial Safe Houses while the rest of the Purveyors of Gloom were to get to work preparing for their delve into Shujen''s Darkworld.


    As was above, so was below.


    "Gloom shall see Zimysta''s Fall; heralded, witnessed, and thus documented by the Black Plume. That much is written." The reborn Glutton declared. "Though there is much to learn still. So come, Lords, let us learn."

 371 - CATs and Mouses

    28th of Trescia.


    ***


    It was not all good, being a God. I was not one to ignore things. Thus I could not ignore the mess I made of the Bodhi Peninsula. My evolution saw everything change. North and South; indirectly and directly, I caused death and destruction on a scale never seen before. Or, I would have, were it not for my Legions.


    Therein lay another pain; another worry. My Legions were not my janitors. My beloved Legionaries were my vicarious explorers. Yet it was they who cleaned up my mess. It was the 1st Legion who kept the evolved creatures occupied with battle. It was the 2nd who prevented the new gold rush from wiping out said life. It was the 3rd who taught half of the peninsula the dangers of the materials and machines that now existed in abundance before my ascension even began. It was the 4th that contained the volcanic eruptions that plagued the Peninsula. It was the 5th who healed those who could be healed and brought a merciful end to those who could not. It was the 7th who ensured everyone got a piece of the pie. It was the 8th who spoiled the pie hoarded by the wicked. It was the 9th who staved off the invasion from the World Sea. It was the 10th who updated the cartographic records for everyone in the lands below, giving them a clear idea of the unknown realm that had always been their home. It was the 11th who used subtlety to prepare everyone for the coming wave of death and destruction, negating the waves of panic.


    None worked as hard in this regard as the Keepers, however. They did not wait to handle the extreme and catastrophic pockets of energy that had spread across the realms. Thus, I watched my them to learn and ensure such a thing would never happen again.


    They did not wait. Yet it still took time. Days of endless working. They did not wait to grow more attuned to their heightened manipulation abilities. Nor did they wait for the worlds above to finish their dance above the skies to distance and brighten themselves to something resembling a binary system. They did not even wait for the day to end.


    The moment that beam fired toward Maru, the 6th Legion split their forces and sought to do as Peter had done with them. And more.


    To those zones of extreme mana went their corps officers, seeking to tame them.


    The closest of them was an extreme fire mana zone in the heart of the Kasian Mountains, taken by Artemio and his subordinates. They planned to temper the violent conflagration and consolidate it into a single, omni-colored eternal flame that became the heart of their temple. Likewise, Grimaldo went as far as the southern coast of Kasia to attempt the same with a zone of earth mana that had taken a liking to minerals.


    Close behind them followed Luke and Vincenc, but only for a time. The latter diverged to retrace their steps, entering the great ravine that split Redagh from the rest of the mountain range. The former, attuned the most to metal, went not to tame the extreme metal mana zone, he sought to blend with it, and use it to protect the druids above, just as Vincenc intended to meld with the extrema air mana in skies above to protect the travelers below.


    The rest of them went in the opposite direction. Due north. Past the extreme mana zone of earth I visited days before my evolution. The first to diverge were Gray and Glas, who descended on the sole mountain range in the Vrurian Empire, just east of the waterfall Hogaz awoke in. At the summit of its southern mountain, near a volcano of epic proportions, sat an extreme mana zone attributed to steam. Yeti, sentient frost hounds, paragon bears, lynxes, elementals, and other creatures, the zone evolved all those things and more to thrive in the steam. Gray was the sole exception. At least until he became a greater force of nature than the zone itself. On the other side of the summit, Glas tended to their mirror, battling the evolved creatures of mist for dominance of the exotic land. If only to keep them from the hands of poachers, overzealous industrialists, and the civilizations nearby.


    Arthurson and Balfour continued until the borders of Nevstan, where one took to the skies to grow at home in the extreme plasma mana zone and study it and the creatures it bore. The other descended to the encroaching wave of dust, seeking not to tame or disperse it but to teach those in its path to grow at home within it, building structures that grew and changed shape in the ever-present storms.


    The rest of them continued over Nevstan, admiring the work of the 3rd Legion and looking through the Net to the Catastrophic Arcane Territories further south. Tamed by Roheisa''s 4th Legion alongside the one in Vruria, Mount Hertham erupted its contents into the Steel Cairn that was now making its way toward Mazi, creating a crawling 300-meter mound shaped like a beast. Similarly, the Catastrophic Arcane Territory of lightning within the Wethion Mountains of Central Ligin was first danced in by the 10th Legion before the heart of the 1st Legion claimed it as their training grounds, formed higher in the sky than any cloud could exist.


    And so, while their Imperator was finishing his monastic training in Nydorden Halls, the Keepers were to do the same in the largest Catastrophic Arcane Territory in the Peninsula.


    "So this is a CAT." The Keepers'' Technical Archmage whistled low. Rightly so. Even while experiencing it vicariously through Bowen, Peter''s Executor, I nearly froze in awe once the wave of pure power swept over him. Being a half-elf like me, it must have shaken Brigida to her core.


    Or perhaps not.


    "It checks out." She laughed, seemingly to herself. "Cats are unruly, unpredictable creatures. One moment, they want to cuddle, the next, you''re bleeding."


    "The God-Emperor does have a curious sense of humor." Master Civil Chief Faroald shook his head in laughter. Yet remained focused on his data slate, no doubt surveying the lands for both prospective subordinates and opinions on the changes brought to Crater Lake.


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    I could only snort as their raucous laughter overshadowed the colossal whirlpool they were spreading themselves around, for it did not cease, even when they let their combined power flow in a mesmerizing dance to the song of energy around them.


    They took hold of the water-attuned arcana with ease, calming it in the places it was most unruly and riling up the places where the energy stood still until everything within their established domain was in harmonious balance. Then they descended, clearing the haze on my mental map and simultaneously filling my senses with the plethora of magical creatures dwelling within the deep chasm.


    Fish the size of cars and sharks the size of battleships swam amidst island-sized jellyfish, and the creatures of the ocean deep were weirder. There were crabs made of hot ice VII, octopuses and squids made of darkness, and anglers with light magic in their lures. However, even those were tame when compared to the scale and power of the creature resting at Crater Lake''s basin. The Zeta-Class Undying Machine Animal. Unceremoniously named the Soft Shell Oasis.


    While I was interested in seeing all the Umas Ed made, I was exceptionally interested in the Keeper''s new home. It was a colossal sky turtle that had its shell broken by some predator in Eotrom. Since then, the shell had been domed over in glass after being hollowed out and filled with flora, creating the perfect environment for Peter''s deeply rooted wise rock.


    Like the temples they created thus far, they entered via an airlock within the spire on the ceiling. After flushing the water, the floor gave out and everyone found themselves in d¨¦j¨¤ vu, re-experiencing their first time plummeting through the skies. Only this time, there were no white plains spread beneath them, but a vast expanse of blue and green, contained within a Catastrophic Arcane Territory. And yet, it had more.


    Ki. An abundance of Peter''s Omni-Elemental Ki poured through the turtle''s shell in ways that touched everything. Including my Metaphysical Form.


    It manifested in two ways. On one hand, the influx of my divine mana latched on to the arcane tempest and the pools of ki, amalgamating them into hardly perceivable globule I intended to take with me. On the other hand, the presence of my divine mana flowed into each sworn-in Keeper and melded into their watches to turn the information cascading through the net into understanding. Understanding of their elemental technology and the creatures that would teach them new forms and tactics. Understanding of biological mutations, cybernetic implants, and genetic augmentations. Understanding of their elemental-based crops, trees, pets, livestock, and war beasts created by Reina for their Legion. Understanding of their home. Theirs and others.


    While Peter''s Monks would remain in the shell, their main, multi-classed force would dwell in the skin where they could gaze upon the realms through the thousands of portholes and windows fashioned into the scales. Those others would dwell in dissimilar domains within the fins.


    The front left fin held the Bombyx Corps'' Grove of silk-lined mulberry trees. It forever glowed in the richness born from Mary''s fin to the rear, wherein her Druidic World Sphere radiated an essence that befitted all life. On the other side, the Warden Corps of Toni Forester had a sprawling jungle that was so dense and overbearing that they seemed haunted. And then there was Rommy Peak and his Dungeon Crawler Corps in their frozen fin of snow and permafrost.


    So it was, the Keepers would remain in their Oasis while they awaited the return of their subordinates; for their subordinates would not be arriving for quite some time. Like their master, they would continue dedicating themselves to the Omni-Elemental Way in isolation.


    Unlike their master, they would merge those skills with the riding wheels, gliding poles, and swimming fans created by their Chief Engineer, Kunala.


    Unlike the Keepers, their master would merge his ki with the essence of my most controversial abilities, for that was what his path dictated to me, the God of Nature, to whom he was most attuned.


    So it was. I took that globule, granted to me by my control over the metaphysical world, and shifted my attention to Nydorden Halls, wherein the Diadem of Empyrean Facultas opened my window to Zimysta Falls.


    ***


    Aldo Za''Darmondiel.


    2nd Son of Ilar, High Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel''s 4th Daughter.


    ***


    I had a theory. One that surmounted the obsessions of every drow in this region of the Darkworld. This man. This human monk would gain the powers we coveted and feared.


    Of course, it made no logical sense. No matter how they were fused, none of the elements could spawn those powers. But if everything I learned about these humans and their organization was to be believed, the chances of him obtaining those things were demonstrably high.


    That was the only reason I remained in Nydorden Halls after he entered his focus chamber. Under normal circumstances, I would have returned to Zimysta with the others as we had done so every year before. But this year, everything was different. Most of us stayed to note the many changes that had been brought to the surface since the death of Shujen''s king and queen. I remained to witness this human blaze through the Lower Halls of Nydorden.


    Now, days later, I could feel the waves of energy rippling from his focus chamber. Thus, I knew he was nearing the end of his path. And so, I poured my ki into my true self and stepped out of my body to merge with the Halls of Zimysta and gaze upon that which others could not. And I did so in the nick of time.


    Like before, I saw the totems of fire, earth, air, and water arranged around him in a square. Beyond them were the shrines of dust, lava, and mud, as well as the plinths of steam, mist, and plasma; all arranged in a hexagonal sigil that bled their energies into the surrounding chamber. Unlike before, it was the fire and water totems that split apart and merged with themselves to form a blinding conflagration and a viscous globule, floating on either side of a¡­ figure.


    It was a figure both familiar and not. A figure with an elven visage, dark skin, and a crown of energy so pure it blinded me from everything except those observations and his reaching hands.


    With one hand, that divine figure pointed down, infecting the blinding conflagration with the essence of pure light. Light, overshadowed by the hand reaching above to inject an inky darkness into the viscous globule. When he withdrew, it came with a wave of light and radiative heat that was powerful enough to force my true self out of the chamber. But not before I felt the shivering wall of icy darkness following in the wake of that baleful light.


    Stupefied by what I just saw and ecstatic to find my theory was correct, I remained outside of Peter''s focus chamber long enough to see him emerge; wherein he shocked me to my core.


    No longer was his mana well tiny and weak. It was only tiny, and now filled with arcana. To add insult to injury, divine mana flowed from him in ways similar to a deity''s champion, though I could not exactly feel it as one does mana. It was more like a¡­ suggestion. A feeling or a thought that was not my own.


    A familiar one.

 372 - The Champions Era

    Celd.


    29th of Trescia, 1492.


    ***


    As great as this time was, it was not without worry, for I could see the machinations of my goddess at work, both in and outside of this realm. In and of outside this plane of existence, the time was nigh.


    "Celd, go check on the outside, will you? It''s almost time."


    Case in point. However¡­ "Ugh! Why me? It''s always me."


    "It''s your task!" Cindra sang, popping a small fireball at me for good measure.


    "Fine, fine. But if I''m late, remember, dear sister, it was you who sent me."


    I ducked out of the way of another fireball as I stepped out the door and plucked the nearest Tweedledees and Tweedledums as I scoured the yard for a tree. It was always such an arduous task, going outside. Finding an appropriate tree aside, the¡­ dreariness aside, the people there were too uptight. You cast one water hose on someone and they''re Hells-bent on starting a war over it. It''s insane.


    That said, she and thus I were right. The time was nigh. Things would surely get interesting soon- for the outside. Things were always interesting on the inside. Our Goddess ensured of that. Thus, it would only make sense for the long-awaited God to make the same true out there. He was her mirror, after all. That provided a little pep in my step once I found a tree at last. After taking some Tweedle puffs, I put on my arcane gloves and got to work pushing through the brambles surrounding the trunk of this dreary old tree. The window I drew was big. Perhaps too big. But too big was better than too small by far, for it enabled me to see the eleven bright lights scattered around a new outside.


    Well, it was the same outside as before. But now it was interesting! So, rather quickly, I drew a doorway and waltzed outside to the most interesting light I could see. But not without my manners, of course.


    "Why, how great it is to see you again King Dememus, I-" I halted upon entering the lands of Vruria, for I did not expect to see so many¡­ outsiders- Maruleans, Betrarthians, and even foreign-born Youterans so close to the Nonusians. And more¡­


    "Celd, old friend! Come! You''ve come at a most auspicious time." The great centurion King called from his throne.


    As I approached, the drugs in my system allowed me to see King Dememus as he was in battle, when his spirit was shining brightly. He appeared as a centaur with the upper body of a great lion with black and gold fur, proudly wielding a powerfully radiant glaive. But that was more like a ghost on top of what he truly looked like. A centaur with black fur and white hooves, with brown skin and silver hair adorned with golden trinkets and jewels.


    "This is Imperator Jaimess A. Corey of the Second Noctis Legion. Imperator Jaimess, this is Prince Celd''lahan Vrur." He gestured to a spectacled Marulean boy with a long-nosed mask and a spiritual plume of colorful down feathers covering his lithe body. A sight I couldn''t help but laugh at.


    "A pleasure to meet you as well." Jaimess huffed through his nose.


    "It''s a laugh of disbelief, friend," I said, raising my palms. "It''s not every day you see a Marulean with arcana and the magic of the divine flowing through him. Much less anyone accompanied by Tengu. Adding to that, you have the essence of what I can only assume to be the Eternal Champion about you. And¡­ did you just say Nox?"


    I said that last part to King Dememus, who leaned forward to whisper. "Noctis."


    "Ah, potato tomato!" I waved him off. But King Dememus continued.


    "They are the guild of the nomadic Empire of Eotrom."


    "Empire?" I rocked back as I looked at the young Marulean in a new light. He dressed as if he was unsure if he wanted to be a diplomat or a ranger. Regally, with a flowing cape and trinkets galore fastened atop a belted tunic dyed tan with hints of red, blue, and green. "I didn''t take you for an imperialist."


    "Not in the same sense as Polaris, if that''s what you''re thinking," Jaimess said. "We are an empire of scholars and explorers, not conquerors. We are militarily might out of necessity, for exploring the realms requires such might."


    "It is the contrary, old friend," Kind Dememus trotted forth. "They rescued one of our fawns who was taken during the most recent intrusion upon our hunting grounds; her and the many others outside. They are our honorable colleagues, like you, for they are working to ensure they do not disturb our way of life, even while they help us; all of their own accord."


    "Okay, now I''m interested." I turned to Jaimess with a glorious grin. "Please explain."


    "Foremost, each legion is a self-sufficient empire existing beneath the umbrella of a larger empire, Eotrom. We Eomen are, at heart, explorers. While we are in our infancy and thus many things are subject to change in the coming years, that much will remain true in perpetuity." Jaimess began, and liking what I was hearing thus far, I urged him along. "Many of our legionaries are Nonus-born Maruleans from either here or Polaris, thus we had a firm foundation for what the Empire should not be. That was built upon by our experiences thus far, and now, those like King Dememus are sharing what they believe to be oppressive for the sake of establishing a new doctrine among the legions. The Anti-Expansionist Measure.


    "In short, the Legions will only be permitted to take direct advantage of resources in hostile enemy territories. Direct, as in used for their personal or professional ends. I could not chop down a single tree in this forest, for example. The only exception would be if King Dememus requested my assistance in something that required it. The Legions provide all so we may freely explore. Thus, we take nothing from the locals we meet on our journeys. And should anything fall to collateral damage, repairs and reparations will be made and paid in excess."


    "Hmm." I tossed over the words in my mind. But they just didn''t make sense. "How many legions are there?"


    "Eleven."


    "And how in Faenya''s name, do you ''provide all'' for eleven legions?"


    Jaimess smirked childishly, making me match his fervor in kind. "You don''t spend much time on this plane, do you?"


    "What gave it away?"


    "Your ignorance regarding common knowledge." He snorted.


    I shook my head. "I don''t understand."


    "Come, old friend. I will show you."


    I followed King Dememus through the palace without a word, uncaring of the glistening tapestries and strange centaurian architecture I was usually so fond of, for more Nonusians were clinging to Maruleans, Betrarthians, and foreign-born Youterans just like the tengu flocking around Jaimess.Once outside, King Dememus gestured his great arms to the canopy above, splitting the branches to reveal magnificent marbles of elements and energy floating above the mortal skies, under the domain of the Gods. Many more stars or¡­ something shone around them. Small, as if countless new deities had been birthed into existence. Like the days of yore, the times before Zefroth. Before the Rending, even.


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    "Those are our imperial lands, the woven worlds of Mani, Telin''s Champion, Amun. As we are nomadic explorers, so are our lands. That one is mine. Naubuuru." Jaimess said, gesturing to the second marble from the silver one at the center. A sphere of paradise.


    "I¡­ I see." I gasped, shocked by the casual proclamation of this most awaited time. "With a¡­ a world''s worth of resources, what need is there to expand? Especially when it follows you above the skies."


    "Should we ever need more, our God-Emperor has the means to make them. Forged fresh from the stars that live and die in the divine realm of Eotrom. But that''s only a part of it." He strangely gestured to himself, and I had to focus to see the potent magic within his clothes. "We are also in possession of technology- enchantments that often use no magic to function."


    He paused to hand me a monocle framed in wood. As I settled it over my eye, strange things began to appear in sequence, all around my field of view. At a glance, I knew my location, the time, the names of these people scattered around me, and more, I could see what was on the other side of countless scrying eyes. They showed me acorns, large enough for four people to fit inside, being carried through the forest by handshaking vines; stones that recorded sound and produced light or heat; machinations of trees and stones that¡­ did things; mined, constructed, farmed. Tasks we often employed magic to do. Duties those of the Mortal Plane often employed or forced others to do.


    "These things, the resources from our worlds, and our God-Emperor can and will bring significant change to the societies we visit, often simply by visiting them, for he is the Father of Evolution. The God of Mana, and thus the God of Change. Those changes will be both good and bad, we are aware. Thus, we have policies in place for those we conduct business with. The Assist, Overwatch, and Uplift Initiative." Jaimess proudly proclaimed. "It details how we shall conduct ourselves will friendly and allied nations.


    "At the very least, allying with Eotrom or her legions comes with many boons." He smirked in that childish way again, making me giddy at the thought of hearing something even more exciting. "An alliance comes with access to the boundless knowledge of our Eternal God-Emperor. By learning these things, our allies will be guided toward developing their own flavors of technology and discovering new things in ways that align with their culture. Assistance applies to those unlike King Dememus, who wish to fully absorb Eotrom''s knowledge and don''t mind a guiding hand to address their most prevalent needs. Eomen and legionaries alike will migrate to their lands and vice versa, where they will work in tandem with the natives to address problems in infrastructure, healthcare, education, security, and other metrics. Divine Trees will be raised in the cities so the locals can evolve. Yet the locals will remain in power. Something akin to a protectorate, essentially.


    "For our allies like King Dememus, who wish to continue about their way of life with some distant friends, we will remain out of sight and out of mind, but always in contact with the rulers as we provide overwatch from the skies. We will only protect them from existential crises or if their liberties are at stake, such as the kidnapping of one of their fawns. We''ll do this until they either rise to our level of self-sufficiency on their own or until either we or they find ourselves unaligned and we part ways. In either case, their Overwatch will then cease, Eomen and Legionaries would withdraw, and they shall be left to their ends as a sovereign nation."


    "I would assume the Uplift part is something akin to what''s happened in Bakewia." I openly mused. ''I suppose I should see Zapp while I''m out.''


    "partially," Jaimess said. "Most of what was done in Bakewia was done on request. The Uplifted are those who ask to join our empire. While we will make it known such a thing is possible from the beginning, we make it a point not to ask and certainly not to demand it. Our God-Emperor''s decree is that the rulers and the citizenry must vote for it. Should the vote pass, their lands will be uplifted from the Mortal Plane and made to dwell in the skies as moons or asteroids orbiting the worlds woven above."


    "So, in short, your duty is that of the guilds of yore. Back when they were honorable. You will go across the mortal plane and pass along the knowledge of evolution to the descendants of those who entered Telin''s gates, scattering themselves across the realms." I openly mused before looking at this young Marulean in a new light. "Fascinating. With all that power, this is your chosen purpose? Why?"


    "Well, the simple answer is, it is the God-Emperor''s will." Jaimess shrugged. "Not so long ago, he taught us that if we are to help someone, we are to truly help them, and in every way we can. We are to take care of not just the slavers that raid their cities, but their lack of food, shelter, security, resources, or anything else. The place where we learned that lesson is now the capital city of our empire, located in Maru. Even before then, however, from the time we first left our homeland, we''ve mainly seen the impoverished, and the disenfranchised populating the realms. Such things got old and boring after the first time we saw them. So." Jaimess shrugged again. "Amun decided to make those dreary places more interesting. Even if it means trouble."


    "Heh. Hahaha! Ahh, I see! I see at last!" I cackled madly, smiling widely at the woven worlds above in ways that brought a tear to my eye. "So this is the great era Telin''s Champion will bring? Not an era of arcana, as we so thought. Not entirely, no!" I cackled louder, spreading my arms to the vibrant sky- to Him; and Her, his mirror. "This is to be an Era of Prowess! Prowess of any kind! Magic! Might! Skill! Knowledge! Classes! Culture! Nothing is out of bounds in this era of His, the Eternal Champion! Haha! How exhilarating! I can''t wait to meet him!"


    "I''m sure you will in due time. In the meantime, however, are you up for a little play?" Jaimess childishly smirked.


    "Play of what kind?" I smirked back, then felt it die down with his next words.


    "The Tengu kind." He snorted, then full-on laughed at my wide-eyed silence. "No matter. To answer your earlier question, we are affiliated with the Nox by virtue of our Guildmaster, Amun of the House of Cole, a Sovereign of Death. Thus, the dead tells us their tales. Thus, the slavers we killed told us their secret. Tales of their headquarters in Ligin''s Khuld Territory."


    "I may not dwell on this plane," I began. "But all the same, my¡­ interference would still be frowned upon. Especially in Ligin."


    "Well." Jaimess sighed to pet his disappointed tengu. "Whose to say you can''t watch?"


    There was nothing to say I couldn''t watch, and so I did. Right there next to King Dememus, staring out of the window through one eye while the other looked through that monocle to witness this Era of Prowess firsthand.


    Of course, it showed Jaimess'' Legionaries huddled inside massive bugs of metal as they flew at great speed, doing much the same as I was doing now- learning all they could about their enemy from the small windows and annotations flooding their senses.


    "This is unbelievable!" I wowed, tapping my monocle. "I''d heard of the Champion being one of the new Grandmaster Artificers, of course. But seeing is believing."


    "Indeed." King Dememus mused. "We are forever good friends and thus allies with Eotrom and her legions, regardless of anything. Yet, I believe her to be a waking ancient giant. I cannot begin to fathom her scale. That''s the reason I chose the overwatch. Being uplifted is too abrupt a change for my people. Especially considering recent events. And there is much for me to learn about Eotrom, her Legions, her other allies, and her Emperor before asking for assistance. If I even do."


    "All fair points. But¡­" Reaching down, I palmed the ground to feel for the energy billowing from the Bodhi Trees'' roots, feeling much less heat than ever before. "Things may not be so simple, old friend. The Bodhi Tree is the epicenter of this era."


    King Dememus had known me for a long time. He knew what I meant. And if he didn''t, it didn''t matter, for we were quickly enraptured by the sight of Jaimess'' Legionaries leaping from their metal bug in the dead of night, kilometers away from their intended target. They dove through the skies like mad lads, relying on the enchantments within their clothes to bring them to a gentle landing sprint amid a swamp, spread between two rivers.


    At the forefront were those who grew close with the Tanuki over the past days, commanded by ones Melek Jubal and Gwenddydd Grandspire who remained in the far distance, watching their subordinates use their Tanuki-given abilities to shapeshift and meld into the crowd of those they were hunting. They caused discord by stealing information, spreading misinformation, causing distractions, and freeing those the raiders had captured; sneaking out just before the other group swept in to perform an elegant dance of destruction.


    As we watched, so too did Jaimess, using another of those glass things to observe more of his legionaries entering the fray to secure the hostages, consolidate enemy equipment and information, provide healing, or engage their enemy, at least until the bandit leaders appeared in their midst. Then Jaimess darted into action, fighting to his heart''s content while his subordinates seamlessly moved in to support him with levels of efficiency I''d never seen before.


    They didn''t even talk, which stupefied me until the Tweedledee and Tweedledum wore off, allowing me to sense the subtle ripples of mana cascading in and out of the monocle I was so focused on.


    "Of course! Mana! That''s how it works!" I slapped my head. Then tossed the remaining bulbs in my hands with contemplation. "I gotta stop using this stuff."


    Sighing, I took another puff. "Eventually."

 373 - Only the Oppressed.

    30th of Trescia, 1492.


    ***


    It went without saying; the Legions were the thing I held most dear to my heart. They were the grand design I envisioned when this body was just five years old, after all. The founding members were as much before my ascension, which made them more than I could have dreamed. Thus, it was only natural that I gave them everything.


    Everything and more.


    Equipment, assets, and knowledge aside, I used the power of blessings and curses to give my beloved legionaries the most distinguished immortals of my creation. I gave them sorcerous powers, immortalizing their bloodlines in ways akin to mine. Iris made them technology powered by their abilities, and Reina gestated life forms that would thrive amidst their powers, immortalizing their empires. Soon, they would be immortalized in the Darkroom alongside their subordinates with prestige warlock classes: Conditor Noctis Legionaries, for my classmate; Prime Noctis Legionaries, for their subordinates who helped found this organization.


    Many outside the ranks believed I spoiled them with riches, resources, and renown as a result. On the contrary, those were the things they''ve earned. Divine rewards for their divine efforts. Thus, when those rewards were given, and I had the leisure to smell the divine roses, it was only a matter of time until I grew curious about how other deities rewarded their beloved followers.


    Who I found it from was enlightening, to say the least.


    What I found was disappointing, as things often were.


    When I found it was just five mortal days after my ascension.


    Where I found it was along the northern Rharian border.


    How I found it was amusing, more than anything, for I only noticed them from their burning desire to be unnoticed. That, and the hatred born from my ''sin'', made me exist in a portion of their minds rent-free.


    Such an occupation saw their emotions become tainted by hate. Hate saw their minds be corrupted by malice, changing their ways. Corrupting them, slowly but surely; and that was something I could see with clarity.


    But of course, the sight it granted was merely another angle- another perspective to use besides Mana, Twilight, and the Moonlight they so desperately sought to evade. And so, from my lounge on the surface of Mani, I watched them, the zealots of the White Horse.


    ***


    Ranren Torhorn.


    09:42.


    ***


    "I admit, I thought they were being paranoid when they told us to check."


    My baby brother removed his eyes from the distant mountains to glance back at the not-so-distant forest we just emerged from. Then he looked at me in a way that led me to believe he had a similar line of thinking, yet his naivety kept his lips sealed. In that way, we were dissimilar. But what before was a gimmick to me was now a liability for us all.


    "Honestly." I huffed. "You''re an Arcane Sniper now, Zaos. You can''t afford to keep being timid."


    "I''m not timid! Or shy." He huffed. "I''m-"


    "Not talkative. I''m aware. That''s the problem. " I jabbed my finger into his chest. "You cannot do your job if you are not talkative! You did not do your job because you were not talkative! We know nothing about what''s coming. That''s on you! And so, it''s now on me to see what we can glean about this threat forming at our door; and to teach you how to do your job while I''m at it."


    I could tell my words bit at him. A baby, though he may have been, the time for coddling was long behind us, and so I turned from his distraught visage to scale our tree, entering a nest moments later to withdraw one of my arcane grasshoppers. Zaos was next to me by the time it unfurled its wings. Judging from his look, he turned his angst into a focused gaze held on the turbulent northeastern skies.


    Good.


    "Ranren, reporting. We emerged from the eastern edge of the Great Melbenzar Forest around nine-thirty and proceeded to Zrucran on foot. Both the denizens of the forest and the residents gave reports of the same changes we saw in the Great Forest. Simple creatures have become sentient, more bestial, or have developed magic; or any variation of the three. Neither we nor they report any traces of the dark presence. Thus, we shall continue onward to Khuld. By Caelarin''s Grace."


    I couldn''t help but feel pride at the sight of my baby brother weaving a web of mana into a ring of acceleration before I said, "Let''s go." But I could not dwell on it, for there was a 220-kilometer journey to Khuld, and each meter required focus if we were to compensate for the clearing canopy above us.


    By Caelarin''s grace, we were perched at the edge of Khuld less than two hours later, gazing beyond the forest for the first time since the dawn of the Eternal''s Punishment.


    "Ranren, reporting in." I said to the arcane grasshopper. "While the denizens'' reports are the same, they made no mention of the sight beyond our borders because of their nature. The Ligin border in the distance is beset by a great lingering fog. The skies above it are turbulent with thunderclouds. The denizens claim it is natural. I cannot help but disagree, however. Regardless, we shall continue onward. By Caelarin''s Grace."


    Again, we got underway. Only this time, the open fields severely slowed our progress. We were forced to rely on the passing clouds, making the 900-kilometer journey to Gribredh last an exhausting nine hours. Even at midday, the silver eye above vexed us. By nightfall, it was downright oppressive, fully opened and bathing the lands in its blanched light. Yet the work continued. It had to.


    "Ranren, reporting in. It is now nightfall, but we have made it to the Rauven Lands and have perched near the mountain range. There are no apparent changes to the environment aside from the aforementioned creatures. We have been able to evade them relatively easily. That aside, the denizens report residents- entire families have gone missing as of late. Their houses were empty come daylight, with no trace of a struggle or conflict but many belongings missing. They say it''s as if a mass exodus occurred overnight. A full investigation is recommended. In the meantime, we shall continue. By Caelarin''s grace."


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    It brought some solace to see Zaos so capable of traversing the open tundra, despite its unforgiving nature. The white blanket of the recent snowfall only compounded the difficulty of the environment, for it seemed keen on reflecting the silver light pouring from above. By His grace, we evaded it throughout the length of a 430-kilometer jaunt, putting us past the Oadowen Fork to Cryshandhol at just past two in the morning. There, we found something most unsettling.


    "Ranren, reporting in. Here, in Cryshandhol, the reports are the same, including the missing residents. However, the denizens of Gribredh report that a large group of lesser-draconic beasts have been prowling about the mountain, starting just after the year''s beginning. Their scales are said to be as black as night, and they move with complete silence. Shortly after, the denizens reported an increase of foreigners entering from Ligin''s side of the mountain range via a tunnel further to the west. Without a doubt, it is of dwarven make. An investigative party is recommended.


    "In the opposite direction is something far more concerning, however." I paused both for effect and to bolster my eyes on those eerie plains. "Past the source of Oadowen Fork, the land is swathed in a field of vibrant-leafed plants with dark stems and trunks. In our probes, we detected a potent source of evil. Inquisitors are recommended to exercise extreme caution. Onward, we continue. By Caelarin''s grace."


    By His grace, we were almost there. Just two more stops until we reached the northeastern Kasian border. We needed rest, however, and no such thing could have been found here. And so, we got underway without delay, dodging the silver light for 200 kilometers until we came upon the dwarven ''city'' of Swanborngar. It was more of a village at first sight. Squat stone buildings were scattered amongst the rolling hills, with no towers or high walls like those constructed by the humans to be seen. But below, there was no telling how extensive the caverns those secretive dwarves carved were. The roots of our trees could not penetrate their compacted stone walls and metal fortifications.


    The denizens, however, were a different story.


    "Ranren, reporting in. Again, the denizens report residents disappearing in the night; here, more than any other place. Of the nearly hundred thousand dwarves, there now exists less than half of that. Those that remain are as non-compliant as always. Not that their lies are needed. Even a novice can see how the mountains above have been tainted. Like a mirror to our last report, the forest resembles the stream of energy that fell just days ago. It yields no sense of evil, but no goodness, either. Thus, we will investigate. By Caelarin''s grace."


    I led the way on foot; moving from tree to tree with the utmost grace and nary a look behind me, a dual purpose driving my actions.


    To put it simply, I was disappointed. I knew Zaos had information about his classmates. He would divulge it. Even if I had to force it out of him. And so¡­


    "Tell me about this power, brother. This silver light and the stones above, you have faced them before."


    "Yes." He sighed, looking away. "He described it to us all as nature''s light fused with his sorcerous darkness. That should tell you of his way with words, brother. It explained nothing, yet told us everything. I experienced my mind being infected with false images and emotions I could not quell. Now, his Vampyr of a girlfriend has that very power as his first cleric."


    "Then let us be on guard." I held out my hand and smirked when he shook it with conviction. Then we both drew our bows and got underway, merging with the closest arcane tree to be ejected some 230 kilometers north-northeast to the base of the mountain path- our borderland.


    The fully opened eye of the baleful Champion stared down on the land from on high, bathing it in a silver-blue light that shone brightly off the snowy woods before us. But we were not without Caelarin''s grace. We waited for the clouds to pass overhead before pressing forward. On and on we bounded, closer and closer to the borders of that silver land.


    Just after passing it, we halted at a decently sized lake for more time than I liked. On the one leaf, the eye was watching and so we could not move. On the other leaf, a pair of similarly colored horns could be seen wading through the water, dipping and bobbing for several moments every few minutes. We could not wait, yet we had no choice. And so we remained there for what felt like hours. Watching, waiting for the beast to dive whenever the eye above was hidden behind the clouds.


    When that moment came upon us, we moved using every means in our arsenal. However, we seemed to have underestimated the distance. The clouds cleared into a spotted mess before we were halfway across the clearing. There was nowhere to hide from the eye above. Thus we stood there, frozen, staring at the pale light creep across the ground before us to reveal something once hidden.


    Or rather, someone once invisible.


    The first thing to be revealed was armored feet poised perpendicular to one another. Time seemed to slow as my eyes ascended with the light moving past thickly armored legs that glistened with the same vibrancy as the surrounding plants, revealing a feminine frame leaning on her hind leg to support the weight of a towering halberd clutched in her right hand. Its blue-white standard was centered by that baleful silver eye, but stained red like the pulsating gem in the heart of her armor.


    My eyes rose to a half-elven face with lustrous, long hair the same silver and red-streaked hue as her eyes. Yet, she was no vampire.


    "Now, now, gentlemen." She smiled in a most unfriendly way. "No need for hostilities."


    "Who are you?" I demanded.


    "Prime Executor Muirenn Snyder, of the Seventh Noctis Legion."


    "There are seven of you?" I shook my head in disbelief. Yet she continued smirking and blinking lazily. "What is the purpose of this... seventh legion, then?" I asked.


    "Our specialty, if you''re asking, is Retribution."


    "Hmphf." I huffed. "Retribution for whom? You? Your God?"


    "Nisi Oppresso." She laughed, shaking her head as those silver eyes danced across our kingdom. "And I see many."


    "You caused those disappearances," I stated- not asked, yet she laughed. Heartily.


    "I know not what you speak of, Rharian." She huffed, amusement dripping from her tongue.


    "Do not play coy!"


    "Am I playing coy?" She huffed again. "Is that what the residents of those places told you? People disappeared in the night; or, is that what your denizens- your arcane creatures of the forest said?"


    "It matters not."


    "It does when the residents wish to leave on their own accord. And so they did."


    "So you were behind the-"


    "Exodus." She nodded. "Yes."


    "So you''ve intruded on our lands?"


    "Not like you''ve intruded on this sacred grazing land, no, given how it is open to any who can make the journey. The only thing that has befallen your lands is Mani''s beloved light. It showed them the path to liberation, just as it guided you here."


    I bit the inside of my cheek after hearing such an absurd notion. A moment she seized predatorily. "So now that you are here, ensure you deliver a message to your king when you give your report. We of the Seventh Noctis Legion and the Order of Worlds will guide the residents of your kingdom who so desperately want to leave. The same ones you so vehemently wish to be gone, but keep trapped in your forest."


    "We will not be conducting business with the likes of you!" Zaos spat. And for the first time in so long, I was proud. Yet any notion of that was shattered by this¡­ creature''s words.


    "That''s for King Corym and Regent Torhorn to decide. But let it be known that we choose not to affiliate ourselves with a culture such as yours. Thus, we will not enter your lands or even contact you. We will leave you be should you leave us be. So, Ranren and Zaos Torhorn, will you leave us be?"

 374 - Strike Two.

    1st of Quartutus, 1492.


    ***


    The curiously maddening thing about being a god was that each stream of faith was distinct. Colored, faceted, and polished in differing ways. Each prayer was unique. Each moment of worship was similar to countless others, and yet utterly different from all the rest.


    As far as the greater realms were concerned, that would have served as a source of madness were it not for the Eternal Eye.


    As far as the Legio Noctis was concerned, none made that fact more apparent than the 4th Legion.


    While they had their shining lights, the Vulcans were easily the least-pious Legion; no doubt a trait they picked up from their Imperator before her recent oath. Even then, however, there was just as much praise and worship coming from her Steel Cairn as everywhere else; and not because she had other primes and their corps with her; although they contributed greatly. Namely, Elurial. She was by far the most zealous Vulcan of all. After all, she was the first to experience my first traumatic memory in ways few other legionaries had. It set her down the Barbaric Path of the Silent Night, granting her a more efficient way to expend her rage.


    Moreover, it made her think about my strength, my experiences, and more; always condensing her once wild thoughts into a spear of unyielding drive to master her mortal self and become divine like she believed I did. The result was a raging river of praise. The evolution of her wood manipulation into Arbor Sorcery granted to her by the passive mass blessing exacerbated that tremendously. Naturally, she was the Vulcan I kept my eye on the most as a result. My largest window into the 4th Legion, per se.


    Worship, however, was a different story. More so than Slate and Kaolinite, who constantly tested and challenged the other Vulcan''s skills; more so than Amethyst and Corundum, who formed the Cult of the Vulcanox and fully embodied the exploratory nature of the Legions, it was Roheisa herself who gave the most worship out of the Vulcans.


    She did not pray, yet she spoke through death and darkness to converse with me about the future of our home with regularity. Among other things. She spent time with my Metaphysical Form in ways that reminded me of our initial meeting. She did not give thanks for the blessings she was given. She sought perfection in how she used her newfound abilities and diligently ensured her equipment and subordinates were cared for. And, like her subordinates, she fully embodied the exploratory nature of the Legions by creating the only truly nomadic Legion to date.


    So it was. I Metaphysically ventured through the Steel Cairn on the 1st of the month, and I wasn''t alone. Accompanying me was the spiritual form of the Legions'' Grand Quartermaster and the sponsor of the Vulcans, Freki, so he could witness their reactions to the rations, resources, and equipment made by his corporation for the Vulcans- the same he would soon do for the other legions.


    It was something their doppelgangers decided once the originals delved into the Darkroom- sponsor the Legions. The various stores on the networks had been abuzz with their creations ever since they were released to the Empire. But they were tame in comparison to the things tailor-made for the Legions by me and my Troupe.


    Iris created technology powered by the abilities of my classmates, now re-titled to Conditor, with their founding subordinates being the Primes. Reina created flora and fauna for them, ranging from pets and livestock to war beasts and wildlife. The others created everything from music and burial methods, weapons and training environments, fighting styles, and potions to recreational facilities, engines, and, in Freki''s case, provisions. That, however, was just the start.


    In upgrading their equipment and infrastructure, the Troupe quickly realized their affinity with different Legions and thus decided to sponsor them in various ways. Iris blessed the Cogs with augmentations, software, tech, and her divine creatures. Blude gave the Lunarians the blessing of her sea creatures. Rickley gave proper sendoffs to the worthy souls the 5th Legion delivered, and more destinations to take them. Geri made hyper-efficient engines and mountain peak or cloudy accommodations for the Sky Skimmers. As for Freki, he intended to imbue the celestial power of summer and autumn into the Vulcans'' lands and give them the Blessing of Agriculture, bestow them with the wolves of his lineage, and give Roheisa''s agents the tools to follow in her footsteps.


    Grandiose things that I too wished to witness.


    I, however, was metaphysically there to await those I watched the day before.


    The day began for the 4th Legion, like all of their days, disorganized, for they were also the least organized Legion. That did not mean they were undisciplined, however. Elurial''s Silent Vulcans woke up when they woke up and yet woke up at the same time to migrate through the band of rainforests wrapped around the hide of the Vulcanox she watched Roheisa slay; their Uma, the Steel Cairn. Within the hour, they were gathered for breakfast in the ''castle'' of their home- a monolith of a tree with roots that wrapped around the severed neck of her Uma like a horse collar, connecting it to the steel skull of the castle Roheisa formed just days ago.


    Unlike most other days, they emerged from breakfast to gleefully convene in the throne room and greet their peers and superior, Imperator Roheisa Deapou; for she had orders. Orders and rewards from on high.


    "Before you enjoy the pleasantries of your pay, let it be known that we will be departing for the Mazi Council in two days," Roheisa said, standing regally before a vast mural of her triumphing over the Vulcanox. "Our journey will be slow to ensure we arrive before the mid-year ceremony, where we will remain until the revelry at the Tri-Point in six months. As we did here, our goal will be to recruit the barbarians of Mazi. Mine, however, will be different."


    "I call dibs on the Mazian orcs!" Elurial shouted needlessly.


    "They may not get along with my guys, just so you know." Darekhil Mountainpike nonchalantly pointed out, jerking his thumb back at the rugged dwarves he recruited from Kasia and Rhar.


    "They''re gonna have to get over it!" Corundum huffed, much to the dwarf''s ire. Before he could express it, however, Roheisa looked up to the ceiling, prompting me to prepare what was gathered.


    With a wave, I sent the rewards rolling and Freki''s spiritual clone joined me, flicking something into the air that faded into ash and reformed in the shape of flaming portals opening on either side of Roheisa''s throne. Out of them came smoldering beasts and blackened flora that set out on the Steel Cairn without hesitation, spreading their combined energies to every point from the snowcapped shoulder blades to the tracks, legs, and wheels spread across the legs of the kneeling beast.


    Their wakes left railroads and paths of charred roots and ash sprawling across the forested ''fur'' of the Steel Cairn, beset on either side by the exceptionally fertile soil prowled by celestial beasts. Below, they fed the fires of Roheisa''s Vulcan heart. Supercharging her industry and giving rise to an ecosystem of creatures with a similar nature to the now-divine beasts of her heritage. But that was something she would find later. For now, Roheisa''s focus was on the massive crates, pallets, and chest sprawled around her Vulcans, staring at the image of a black wolf howling before a large sun.


    Seeing it made Freki''s clone lean forward and withdraw a metaphorical notepad from the Net, making me chortle in amusement and full-on laugh when he growled in embarrassment.


    Bullshit aside, it was nice to see him taking his role seriously. Moreover, it was nice to know the least-organized legion was still disciplined enough to use their rations efficiently.


    "The Ration Policy is as follows." Roheisa turned away from the crates to face her Vulcans. "Starting now, different rations will be distributed at different intervals and in differing amounts, depending on the rates of consumption and spoilage. At a yearly rate." She gestured to the massive crates. "Each Legionary will receive a set amount of unprocessed lumber, textiles, rubber, and other industrial crops, depending on how much they are projected to use; as well as half a rothay or cow."


    "Half!?" Elurial blurted out before fishing through her crate to find a frost box packed with perfect cuts. "Awe!" She sagged on her feet, whining. "I wanted to butcher it!"


    "Noted," Freki grunted.


    "Every six months, each legionary will receive a set amount of dry grains, cereals, and longer lasting fruits and vegetables like apples, berries, cabbage, and potatoes. Wheat, oats, barley, rice, and beans, among others. We are also to receive half a goat or similar animal, as well as medicinal crops." She said with a pointed nod to her future Doctoral Witch, Atum Fulbert. "Every three months we will receive fish and seafood of various types, mushrooms, and nuts from both above and below, as well as vitamins, dietary supplements, combat stimulants, and caffeine; either as coffee or tea. Monthly, we will receive bread, eggs, cheese, and other dairy products; as well as more perishable fresh fruits and vegetables; two chickens or the equivalent of some other fowl; as well as booze and recreational drugs. The latter is to be consumed off duty." She pointedly said. Then rummaged in one of the smaller chests to hold up what seemed to be something like pashtet or pate- one of my favorite snacks.


    "What was listed were our personal rations. These," she waved the can, "are our war rations."


    "Weekly Wartime Rations from Sam''s Kitchen. Sustainment Pack. Warning: Only to used for... Wait!" Elurial pulled one of her cans away from her eyes, only to bring it closer with a mad cackle. "No fucking way! Magic food! You mean to tell me this little can is supposed to keep me fed for ten whole ass days?" She waved the can at the ceiling, and I could only shrug.


    "Half a rothay every six months?" She cackled again; much quieter this time, as she turned to my Metaphysical Form sitting on the wall. "Kinda takes the fun out of hunting, you know?"


    "You can hunt recreationally. Our numbers will be too high for hunting in the places we travel. We''ll cause an ecological collapse." I said both to her and the countless other legionaries boasting similar or dissimilar trains of thought. "To that end, the Crown is finalizing a new policy regarding the resources in explored lands. Expect it to come into effect in the coming days."


    Pausing, I once again limited my words to Elurial''s mind as I left the throne room. "There will be one exception. Come. Let me show you what I mean."


    ***


    Zaos Torhorn.


    ***


    "This is the summit, is it not?" Ranren pointed up the mountain, where a horizontal crevasse was pouring a sheet of lava onto the mountain below. Yet above, an exotic hill gave rise to a forest greater than the one in our home and in Vruria combined, centered by a snowy mountain.


    "That place is unnatural."


    "Few things are now, and it''s all His fault. Or rather, it is the fualt of our ancestors in the Motherland. This is Telin''s punishment for meddling with his gates." He shook his head. "To have once thought his Champion would instead build the bridge between civilization and nature is¡­ embarrassing."


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "You are not to blame." I shook my head." His heritage aside, I did not think he was entirely evil at first. Then he infected our classmates with his ideologies, robbed the Bodhi Tree of its purpose, and usurped the loyalty of nearly the entire class. Then, I realized two things. One. I almost fell for his spell. And two, that was only the beginning. The southern peninsula will be no different from what happened to the Bodhi Tree. Neither will the Mortal Plane, given enough time."


    Ranren stayed silent as he looked up at the strange landscape. "Regardless," He sighed after a few moments, "we will need information if we are to survive this coming tide. Let''s go."


    "By Caelarin''s grace."


    By Caelarin''s grace, I had never felt more exposed than when we ascended that mountain. It was as if a million eyes were on us, and with the falls of lava covering every meter of stone, there were no trees for us to find solace in until we ascended. But even that was tiring. That mana itself seemed alive, intent on escaping our grasp. Making me all the more uneasy when we finally ascended the summit and gazed upon the unnatural landscape.


    It was like a portal to Vagua had opened here on the Bodhi Peninsula. Beasts of fire and lava ran amok through the forest, burning swathes of land to ash in minutes, only for it to regrow in seconds from the creatures of wood, who saw them rise much higher than before. And there were structures here, too. Buildings that seemed to belong to the environment the same way stone outcroppings belonged to the forest. Made of crystal, steel, wood, and stone, their unnatural curves led to winding paths that connected them to various parts of this colossal forest. Even the branch on which we stood was larger than the trees of our home.


    I wanted nothing more than to leave. Such things were not up for me to decide, however, so I turned my undivided attention to Ranren as I asked. "What''s the plan?"


    He stayed silent for longer than I''d liked, yet I could tell from the twitch in his lips that he followed my line of thinking; giving me a sense of solace when he turned to me. "We will-"


    "Well, well, well!" I turned and loosed an arrow at the source of the voice, only to hear it knock against the bark before I turned to an intricately carved tree trunk that moved in tandem with the familiar voice. "Look who we have here."


    While we were shocked to see a half-high orc peel out of the bark as if it were a silken curtain, we both regained our composure quickly. Albeit for different reasons. Ranren heightened his guard upon seeing the baleful black tree sprawled across the leathers of her tunic. I grew uneasy upon seeing my barbaric classmate once again.


    "Elurial." I sneered, fighting the bile that arose from her feral visage. Her red skin was bathed in soot and ash as if it were tribal tattoos, covering whatever parts of her rust-red skin that weren''t covered by leather scraps, pelted cloaks, and obsidian jewelry like the string of crude shards dangling from her neck; but I''d recognize her voice and those tusks anywhere.


    "Zaos Torhorn." She snickered.


    <<"You know her, brother?">>


    <<"I had the displeasure of facing her during an outing at the Bodhi Tree.">> I sneered, gagging on my next words, as they were undeserving of our tongue. <<"She is my classmate.">>


    "And I didn''t know you were so afraid of me." She childishly giggled, silencing us both. "How cute. Or..." She paused, tapping at her chin. "Maybe it''s not just me. After all, you both met Prime Executor Snyder last night. Maybe you two just can''t get enough of us."


    "Please!" Ranren scoffed. "This land is not yours, imperialist!"


    "Never said it was, but it actually is." She laughed. "Our towers are here, and you, you''re quite far from your borders, aren''t you? It gives the notion that you''re out looking for trouble."


    "Trouble? Hah!" Ranren recoiled, scowling and pointing. "You all are nothing but trouble. Look at what you''ve made of this realm already! Look at this!" he threw his arm to where we came, to where the fall of lava was streaming down the mountain below. "Look at this and tell me this has caused no trouble for the residents of this realm!"


    "We clean up our messes." She carelessly shrugged.


    "Well, we can only hope someone else will be willing to ''clean messes'' as well."


    "You''re welcome to try." She snickered. "But then again, you can''t exactly kill us. Can he, Zaos? We''re both students of the Bodhi Tree, after all."


    "No," Brother said coldly before I could respond, looking to the huts in the forest beyond. "But not everyone here is a student, are they?"


    Her amiable demeanor dropped into a blank stare as he snapped into motion, bolstering himself to draw his strongest Caelarian holy arrow and fire before any of us could blink.


    By Caelarin''s grace, the White Shard soared true, but His wickedness saw Elurial watch it fall with a calm demeanor. A stark reaction compared to Ranren''s excitement at seeing the distant forest flatten in explosive fire and regrow into something we could recognize. A grim reaction compared to me, remembering those who were standing in the arrow''s path.


    I had no choice but to draw my bow and point it at the half-orc. Yet she countered by pulling the surrounding arcana into a veil far denser than any of her kind could produce.


    "Jaimess warned your king." She snatched off her necklace and threw it to the ground. "This is strike two. Three strikes, and you''re fucking dead."


    A cold pit opened in my chest as the ambient arcana condensed around my cousin, where it was forged into a slender short sword that was thrust forward with blinding speed to release a bolt of energy at Elurial.


    I was frozen. Crippled with the horror of the worst situation becoming a reality, relegating me to watch as Elurial observed the condensed energy carve into the mana veil that wreathed her arm, slicing the second skin clean off, with some of her own to follow.


    "Veil- no, mana, then spirit, then flesh. So that''s how that works." She nodded, staring at the small dribble of blood leaking from her shoulder. "Good to know."


    "Get ready."


    Ranren''s words snapped me from my stupor as her body began rippling with the telltale heat of a barbarian''s fury. Yet there were no feral screams to accompany her rage. Only the bulging veins, the feral snarl, and a cold sneer aimed at me signaled the perk''s activation before she lunged.


    We both leaped back in response yet reacted differently, with me charging mana into my quiver and tapping an arrow against Ranren''s bow just before he loosed an arrow. But her reaction time was unreal. She dodged mid-step- partially. Enough for the arrow to shear across her jaw, marking it as a target for the arrow in my hand to dart toward.


    "We can''t kill her!" I screamed at the sight of my arrow shearing through her cheek, leaving her bloodied teeth exposed.


    "That was her fault!" Ranren snarled back, prompting the bestial woman to pivot his way with great speed.


    With that opening, I tried to line up a shot, but was halted by something enveloping my ankle with dominant force. Without thinking, I raised my bow and flexed mana into the grains before slamming it down, feeling thankful the abundant arcana favored me, too. Projected mana saw my bow break through those reaching roots with ease. Yet there were countless more sprouting from the tree. The entire forest was alive with arms of vines, bark, and wood.


    The horrific fear of the forest turning against me infected the entirety of my being, driving me into the sky like prey desperately running into danger to escape a predator. I knew the sky was not where we belonged, yet there was nowhere to go but up. And so I ascended into a barrage of spells that exploded the reaching hands of wood, sending splintered shards flying into my flesh while smoke and ash filled the skies, breaking my field of view from everything.


    "No!" I scrambled to gather the surrounding arcana. I could not lose sight of Ranren in this foul place. We had to retreat, somehow, and inform Father and the King about what transpired.


    The perks of my class manifested seamlessly, pouring mana into my mind and through my eyes to visually link me to my spotter. He was near the tree we were first perched in; and from the way he was moving, he was in danger.


    Fighting against my unease, I released a wave of arcana to clear the skies before ejecting an arcane shield around me; and just in time, for an explosive barrage sounded against the barrier not a moment later.


    Focusing, I tried to line up a shot with the half-orc, but Elurial seemed to be dancing, dodging Ranren''s arrows in ways that brought her closer to where I would land. To compensate, he was constantly repositioning for the best angle, desperate to find a shot before I ran out of air time.


    Just as I feared, Elurial lunged toward me just before I was to land. But I was prepared. An Arrow of Repulsion hit home at the minimum firing range, pushing her back enough for the trailing Arrow of Obscurity to veil an arcane platform I conjured to halt my fall and spring me toward Rohen.


    The relief I felt when exiting the smokescreen was palpable. Ranren was just a few meters ahead, launching out a trio of arrows to cover me as I moved to him and he moved toward our retreat. This was it. The moment we would escape this foul place and return to our great forest.


    But things were not so simple, I would come to learn.


    An icy hand wrapped around my heart during the last few strides and I knew not why until I detected movement behind Ranren; therein I remembered- this forest was alive, and not on our side. The horror of that realization merged with the coldness around my heart as if it were alive, making the sickening feeling resulting from the two overflow in ways that made my gut sink and my mind go numb, losing any command over my knees once I saw the great arm of a tree branch rise behind Ranren.


    Enveloped in its paddle-like branch was that necklace of obsidian shards Elurial tossed aside before the battle, forming a flat club with a crude, serrated blade that swept down Ranren''s midsection without resistance, passing from his armpit to his hip.


    I thought it missed at first, and so I used everything I had to get to him. Only to have my incoherent hopes shattered by the sight of my older brother falling away from his lower half in a shower of blood and gore.


    Fire hotter than any heat I''d ever experienced rose within me, pulling my bowstring with a strength I never believed I had as I screamed. "YOU MONSTERS! I''ll- oof!"


    As quickly as it came, my anger was extinguished by a heavy blow to the back of the head, dulling my senses from everything except the steel fist rushing towards my face.


    Distantly, I felt my body slump to the ground. Only to feel something scorching and unyielding grasp my shoulder and pull me to my feet, bringing me eye-to-eye with a round-faced giantess of a woman with eyes as steely as the hand pinning me to a tree.


    "You killed him!" I snarled and wept in the same breath. "You monsters murdered my brother!"


    The barbaric princess sneered, raising her steel hand to slap my jaw loose; only for her witch to heal it and extend my suffering. "Your brother murdered Jakobs and injured countless others. Blood for blood makes this round even. But we have yet to seek retribution against Corym for sending his agents after Amun''s head. Perhaps now is the time to fix that. After I deal with you."


    "R- Roheisa! Stop! Y- you can''t kill me! W- we''re students!" I pleaded. Sickeningly so. But there was no emotion behind her steely gaze, despite the heat carried within.


    "I can''t kill you, no." She shook her head with an unnerving calm. "However, I can kill your family. I can bury your precious Melbenzar Forest in molten steel. I can extend these mountain ranges a bit. Most importantly, Zaos, I can break you. And in ways, even your god can''t heal you."


    As casually as one would crush a grape beneath their thumb, Roheisa''s scalding steel arm crushed me against a tree, shattering my shoulder to dust. Yet her arm of hot steel moved to a different place and kept pushing, slowly breaking and burning my ribs, my arms, and my hips against this horrid tree. But¡­


    "By Caelarin''s grace, I will not yield!"


    By Caelarin''s grace, she stopped with those words. Yet it came at the cost of a scalding snort and words so demeaning they threatened to uproot my core.


    "Tsk. Your God is unworthy of your worship, Zaos. You''re nothing more than his slave. An expendable pawn he cares not for."


    "And you are different?!" I spat. But she only stepped aside, raising her arm to an unmistakable figure of divine winged armor, ascending to the skies. A Valkyrie.


    "You tell me." She stepped before me, grasping both of my shoulders to pry me from the tree and face me toward the southwest. "Let''s see which God will save you."


    That was all I sensed before an arcane wave spread over me, conjuring a wall of wind and an unyielding pressure to overtake me. I flailed. I screamed for Caelarin''s grace. But both were silenced by the rushing wind for several moments until I was left above the peninsula itself, staring at the great forest for an everlasting moment before the rush of wind returned.


    My only solace was that I was falling home, but I was beaten, injured, bruised, burned, and scarred physically, mentally, and spiritually. I could hardly move; let alone focus enough to manipulate mana to slow my fall. And so I cried. So I screamed. Thus, I thrashed when something slowed my fall. Pulling me away from the home I desperately sought until I slowed to a gentle landing just outside our estate in the Great Melbenzar Forest.


    It was sickening, His touch.


    "G- get off of me! Get off! OFF! Don''t touch me you¡­ y-"


    "Who-" my father''s voice came from the door just before my sobbing erupted. "Zaos!" He rushed to me at once with potions and salves at the ready. "My Son, what happened? Who did this to you? W- where is Ranren?"


    "T-hey- " I coughed and sobbed in his arms. "They butchered him! The Le- the half-orc. Elurial! She¡­" I gagged. "She cleaved him in half! I... I couldn''t-"


    "My God¡­When did this happen?" He demanded. "How did you return here?"


    "Just... minutes ago. I- we... investigated the mountains.... near the Kasian border. They... killed him. Said... strike two... they would bury... the forest. I was¡­ thrown here. And... and He caught me!" I spat at the silver eye peering through the canopy.


    "It''s okay, son." Father hushed me, held me. "Come. Let us heal your wounds. We- we will discuss this once¡­ once we''ve had time to process-"


    His voice caught just as my heart dipped. Albeit for different reasons. He was distraught over losing his son so suddenly. I was sickened by the sight of a silver mushroom growing before our eyes to emit a stream of spores that solidified before us like a window. A window that showed me and Ranren, kneeling side-by-side atop a branch in that forsaken forest; unaware of the twisting bark behind us.


    "Well, well, well." Knock! "Look who we have here."

 375 - The Fourth Front.

    2nd of Quartutus.


    ***


    The unsettling thing about ascending to Godhood was the number of fronts it opened to my horizons. Or rather, the number of fronts it made apparent to me after all this time.


    The Gods of the Mortal Plane have had their eyes on me since my birth. A few had made some measure of an introduction through their followers already. Sutark via Bazzric, Tiamat via Urshure, and the dwarven deities: Myrthilda, the Forge Mother; Amphroduhn, the All-Smith; and Rangorakh, the Fire Mountain, via Elsgril; Faenya via my mother. Others would make their introductions relatively soon. Caelarin via Corym; Lilith via High Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel.


    It was those last two who put things into perspective. The Gods- especially the Youteran ones- expected something of me, Telin''s Champion. Thanks to Etan, I had an idea of what Lilith wanted- for me to be the catalyst in the evolution of drow. The stimulus that would make them paragons through the vehicle of war. As my mirror, I assumed Faenya wanted something¡­ passive. Something that would happen regardless of how I lived- like this spread of arcana, making those who worshiped her more potent. But Caelarin¡­


    For whatever reason, Caelarin wanted me out of the picture. I refused to believe it was solely because of Carbury, but in truth, I didn''t care. A war was brewing between me and his followers, and I was certain he wouldn''t like the outcome of what I had in store for King Corym. When coupled with the almost imminent battle with the Queen Demon Spider''s cloth, it was a lot to add to the inevitable war to retake Ulai. Not to mention the eventual war against Polaris, either within the coming years or the next several centuries.


    To make matters more interesting, all of that would be coupled with the chaos released from my evolution. The realm itself changed and kept changing now, some six days later. This small fraction of the Mortal Plane had become great, filled with the strong, the arcane, and the exotic overnight; and not even I knew what would become of the beam on its way to Maru.


    If that was the effect of my becoming a Demi-Eternal, it was hard to imagine what things would be like much later down the road, when I reached my next evolution at the 10th step. If the Gods were already angsty before and recent events made them upset, then that would certainly make them just as pissy as Caelarin; creating all the trials Telin promised me for the rest of my or their days.


    That wasn''t to say I was unprepared, however. On the contrary, my Legions were designed to be strong enough to fight against the divine from the start. Like many things, that was exacerbated by my evolution. Only one of my Legions made fighting the divine their specialty, however.


    Naturally, it was the most obscure Legion of all. The 5th Legion, the Deliverers. While they also had Rua''s Merciful Monks and Phelia''s Healing Corps amidst their ranks, the core of the Deliverers was composed of Valkyries; and so, Deliverers were known for being Valkyries. The divine agents of me and my pantheon who ferried souls above and below without pause, leaving them unseen by the eyes of many mortals; and thus, obscure.


    It was that obscurity, coupled with their role of having one foot in each plane, that led to them being the only ones who bore witness to the changes seen in Eotrom. They alone saw Eotrom expand in volume just as the mortals of the Plane saw Mani expand in radius and distance itself to binary star levels. They saw their woven worlds within Eotrom become like stars and their moons like planets, connected by the nearly imperceptible branches of my divine tree- the very tree my Troupe was evolving under. But not before they caused an evolution in the Legions.


    They wove their worlds amidst the drifting incorporeal roots of my divine tree, connected within the interior of Mani. Such a connection bore nutrients in the form of power that was fed to the worlds drifting among the cosmic branches of the divine realm- Sponsorships from my Troupe to my Legions.


    By seeing these things, by learning of their sponsor, the Deliverers came to terms with the front- or rather, the force that often went unnoticed in the Empire. Even the civilians and the few Legionaries who dwelled or operated on those worlds far above the Mortal Plane rarely thought about those who dwelled inside, beneath, and subsequently outside the core of those woven worlds- the reincarnated celestials, residing beneath the boundless skies of Eotrom. Thus, it was to no surprise they seldom thought about the future of those beings.


    The Deliverers knew, however. Even before I did.


    They knew, one way or another, that the laws, matter, and energies of my realm would one day bleed through the Mortal Plane. Eventually, the universe would, for all intents and purposes, become like Eotrom whether I wanted it to or not, sparking a divine war to be fought by the cloth of the Gods, commanded by their celestials, led by their demigods and lesser deities. And so, while her Court of Valkyries sought, saw, and delivered, their Empress planned accordingly.


    As one other Prime had, Lucia scoured the net to learn all she could of the Sol System''s history of special operations forces to organize the fourth side of her empire into an industrial black ops unit without the secrecy, fielded by a quasi-hive mind of celestials. The Einherjar.


    Building the Einherjar''s foundation was an act that was inspired by the events that transpired the day before. While I''d been ensuring Zaos got home safely, Lucia and thus another part of me were watching a pillar of crimson light descend from the surface of Roheisa''s planet Edinda, seeking.


    Elara Aghagan saw Ranren Torhorn be bisected by Elurial''s macuahuitl, just as I did. Thus, she descended to the Mortal Plane to deliver his soul.


    At a cost.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    A great neigh echoed from the heavens behind Elara just as her boots touched down to approach the liberated soul, bringing my eyes and surely many more to the Steel Volcano of Kasia, wherein an elf-faced celestial quadrigae swept past the young Valkyrie in a blur of white, sprouting a chariot of spectral vines from their hooves to take hold of Ranren''s soul and lift him skyward.


    They had landed to grab Ranren''s soul and ascended before Elara could draw her bow and turn. Quite auspiciously, might I add, for her sights quickly aligned with the four winged elf-faced unicorn-things splitting their formation in half. Accelerated via magnetism, her crystalline arrow sailed true, its steel tip digging into the beast''s left hind leg, causing it to stagger behind the other three abreast. In response, the two carrying Ranren''s soul began a mad dash, flying faster toward the clouds while those in the rear banked around and fell back to sweep in from either side.


    Without as much as a glance, Elara fired off volleys of feathered blades with each flap of her wings, creating a field of crystal, steel, and magma projectiles that sank into the ethereal ''flesh'' of the horse she wounded earlier, leaving it maimed and crippled but healing while the other the horse dodged her volley with ease, corkscrewing and barrel rolling as it fired a trio of gleaming green arrows from its horn.


    Chasing Ranren tenaciously, Elara deflected the first arrow off her wings as they reached high, leaving her legs unguarded to the second arrow, which flared like a green flag once it impacted and bloomed into a growth of brambles. With Ranren tickling the belly of the clouds, the relatively healed horse zealously neighed and ferally snorted as the bright vines enveloped Elara''s legs, charging and dashing with no regard for its companion dragging the brambles and Elara, pulled out of the third arrow''s path.


    The horn''s verdant hue appeared to merge reactively with the green essence of the impacting arrow, creating a taproot with a woody form that sank towards Elara and the other unicorn-cherub thing, further contributing to the young Valkyrie''s predicament. However, while her charge was now burrowing into the clouds, Elara was not distracted. She near-instantly found the connection between the beasts and likened it to the crystalline threads of the RAPHEW, then formed a similar spell to counter it.


    Heated by a core of molten steel driven forward via magnetism, Elara''s diamond fibers burrowed through the brambles as if they had a mind, racing down the grains like a lit gasoline trail until there was nowhere to go but the horn that conjured them.


    In the end, there was nothing left of them but entropy and ash. Heat.


    The Vulcan''s Heart had awoken.


    Elara''s wings flared with the tempered rage of a volcano as she swept her metallic wings, turning the very winds she churned into a searing conflagration that pushed her into the sky with a righteous scream. Her speed was such that the two remaining beasts seemed to be falling toward her. Yet still, she was seen accelerating, magnetically throwing volleys of feathered spears on the upward sweeps of her wings.


    They sailed true even while the horned elf-cherubs jerked Ranren''s soul around evasively, gashing the wing of the left one and dealing much more damage to its companion. Its focus and thus its grip on the soul was lost, creating a spectral bullseye for the steel-feathered arrow being launched from Elara''s bow like a railgun.


    The searing rod that was her arrow sailed past the now-flailing unicorn-cherub as if it didn''t exist, allowing the singing wake to blast the beast directly into the young Valkyrie''s path rather than run it through. Uncaring of its plight, Elara poised her spear before her and allowed a contained mass of molten metal to build within; yet the flailing beast impaled itself on her feathered blade anyway, then was sundered to ash when a volcanic spire of molten material erupted from the thrust of her spear.


    It was like an invisible volcano had erupted in the sky, pushing out a column of ethereal magma heralded by a gleaming figure of crystal and steel that closed the distance in less than a second.


    Grasping Ranren''s soul in desperation, the remaining cherub used that time to tuck its wings in preparation to evade, only to give Elara prime targets to sever and flay from the spectral horse''s body with two dexterous swipes of her spear. Its wings continued rising from their momentum while the body cartwheeled away under the force of Elara''s kick- launch off the beast''s body toward Ranren''s soul, weeping at its escorts burning in the congealing materials.


    Even I struggled to discern which came first; her grip around Ranren''s soul or the energy flowing into her wings. Regardless, they flared with a vengeful orange radiance, creating a pillar of light that saw space shift around Elara and the soul clutched in her grasp before the Mortal Plane was pulled to her feet. Seemingly so, until she stopped at the last second to throw the weeping soul to the ground.


    He landed unseen with a silent thump in the dirt. Opening beneath him a dark pit of virulence that gave way to a field of reaching hands, clawing, grabbing, clenching, and dragging the weeping, crying, and pleading soul into the darkness while the young Valkyrie looked on in contempt, a cold sneer hidden beneath her faceless helm.


    "That is why you are unworthy!" Her words came as a volcanic boom far louder than the sonic wake of her descent. Yet, that prelude was far quieter than the stomp that committed Ranren''s soul to the Under. It was like the Shot Heard ''Round the World, coupled with the Starfarer''s descent to Earth- an act that would affect everyone for centuries to come, despite few directly witnessing it.


    I knew not how it was heard beyond my realm. Within my realm, however, it was heard by both the clone of my teacher and Cononthoth''s paired mirror, my resident sphinxes, Ari and Zmon; for the Deliverers were obscure seekers, and so were both the sphinxes and Etan.


    In a way, Ari was the opposite of her mate. Whereas Zmon had a robust build with leopard spots, a face of onyx skin, and a matted mane that flowed like grand tapestries, Ari boasted a sleek panther-like body and fur with a face of olive skin coupled with a thick curtain of curly black hair, neatly groomed and tucked beneath a regal headdress of a leafless tree. Their only similarity was the glow of my arcana blooming in their eyes.


    As per the arrangement, she was to ''accompany'' me in the realms I explored, dwelling in my lair whilst testing the locals who sought my knowledge, technology, or other things while her mate, Zmon, would bring prominent Legionaries to his lair in the core of Etan''s world to become candidates for the Troupe''s black ops units. With this recognition of the Deliverers and Lucia''s Einherjar, however, Zmon would now also choose candidates for what would come to be called the Legions'' Legendary Units, for Lucia''s was an act that would see the other Imperators create similar units in the coming months; much like my Troupe made theirs.


    Ari had something new to seek as well, however- a mirror of what was sought by Zmon. The mortals worthy of gaining my employ and serving my divine needs.


    As such, as many in the Troupe had done, Etan became the sponsor of the Deliverers.


    As such, Lucia''s court of Valkyries was given new things to seek. Divine knowledge. Holy artifacts. The agents of the Gods.


    As such, Ari identified one I would seek in due time. A mortal who fitted the criteria to be crowned a Valkyrie and seek, see, and deliver in my name for Zed Legion.


    Z''ress Hun''ana.

 376 - Expansion & Contraction

    3rd of Quartutus, 1492.


    ***


    While I had given my Legions much, I had not given my Legionaries everything, and those things were not free.


    Regardless if one stayed for their lifetime, retired, or separated from the forces after our time in Maru, to enter the Legions was to begin down the path of absolute potentiality. As their leader, as their God, my job was to accompany them, to guide them, but not give the answers freely.


    The assistance given to Duke in the months prior was a crude example of that, given in the form of a training exercise for Iris. Every time after that was an exception.


    Every time after was now a rule, for my ascension made my job infinitely easier. The power of the divine worked subtly. And so subtle I would be. Even while I made myself present in the minds of my Imperators.


    The easiest way I could describe the effect was an alteration of perception. Which, I supposed, was accurate. Faith and thus divine mana were influenced by perception. Thus, it would only make sense for it to affect perception. It changed how I could be seen by my followers. It changed how the followers of others saw me. Monstrous or divine.


    That was merely the tip of the iceberg, however.


    It changed how I taught my Legions, and in ways I never would have thought possible. And so, as Iris had once done, I descended to teach and, in turn, learn from one of my first friends; metaphorically so.


    Among all the Conditor, Duc''cec was among the most peculiar, for he''d obtained everything he never asked for; things many mortals spent their lives chasing, delving into the pits of depravity or seeking the most pious path to absolute power.


    In that way, Duke felt Sapiavi were different from other creatures. Or that they were similar to the Felipians regarding their belief that power was a synonym of survivability. Competence. Not a force of one''s will on one''s environment. And yet, he claimed that very power. The power to force his will on his environment.


    It was something entirely foreign to him. Duke left his nest at a young age like most male Sapiavi, allowing the winds to take him where he needed to go. To the Bodhi Tree. And so, where many of our classmates saw this as a time to teach and grow humble, he and a few others saw this as a time to learn and become proud. Proud of his Legion. Proud of himself.


    Proud of his heritage as a Sapiavi with a lineage born from an apex predator.


    The subjects of his lessons were Expansion and Contraction, delivered by the vehicles of Action and Reflection. Those lessons began shortly after my ascension, when he dove into the storms of the 1st Legion raging above Ligin, leading his fleets of newly augmented pilots and flying mages to their apparent doom. Within those toiling clouds, he acted and thus learned how to contract, following the whims of the storm as he dipped, bobbed, and rolled into position within the eye and expanded, unleashing the perks of his class and the war spells of their Raphew onto the training dummies and evolved beasts scattered to the winds.


    Simultaneously, his Doppelganger was with his many subordinates, expanding in response to the many changes that befell the Bodhi Peninsula. While they weren''t dipping in and out of the storms with their Imperator, the Sky Striders had been scouring the Bodhi Tree''s upper atmosphere, analyzing every square meter to update the cartographic records and distribute them across the three networks; and all the while, more of them had contracted and took time to get acquainted with their Uma and determine their next phase of operations.


    Expansion.


    That began four days after my ascent and immediately after, Duke stepped further down his path. But of course, it began with contraction. A recall, of sorts, that saw nearly every Sky Strider convene, retrain, and be tested on the mountain of technology given to them from Iris Cole Engineering and Blue Peak Aerospace Industries. While the latter was the brain-child of their sponsor, ICE was something they brought into their facilities on their own accord. Combat drones. Bays for manufacturing, maintenance, or storage. Virtual reality training rooms- the largest and most advanced ones on the market.


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    With those tools and more, they mastered the use of the absurd upgrades Geri made to their fleets without making their existence known to those below and more, without causing something to inevitably go awry; for such things were natural when the spring and winter-infused intakes, jets, and rockets created their own air and made it impossible for the drives to overheat.


    Only then did they expand, and at their lead was Duke, flying higher and faster than ever before. Higher and faster even than his new air and water-attuned [Jetstream Contour Feathers] permitted him to fly, for thunder could not echo above the skies; and while his integrated CAMS, POTTER, Raphew, and AVA broadened his capabilities enough to have him survive in the void of space, they were still not rated to perform in a vacuum. Thus he contracted.


    By his lonesome, Duke ascended above the skies and accelerated further as his integrated CAMS came online, wreathing his body in translucent scales that functioned the same as a spacesuit, yet gave him unbroken views of the airless void.


    As it did with many, such wondrous sights made Duke pause everything. His thoughts, his actions, and his thrust. Placing him into a violent spin that got worse as he corrected and over-corrected and struggled with the laws of Newtonian Physics, forcing him to contract more.


    Into the depths of his mind, he dug to recount all he''d learned of physics while he carved away the instincts of a creature born for the skies. Bit by bit, he stayed his flapping. Piece by piece, he remembered his augmentations. Millimeter by kilometer, he delved deeper into his mind to take command of his body and thus his thrusters to stabilize himself as he charged deeper into the abyss.


    His stabilization gave rise to an expansion. An explosion of tests, challenges, and trials born from the spirit of will to make him more at ease in the void of space; he dove deeper into the great empty for hours unto days, and at ease, he became.


    His easiness saw him rise to his woven world of Krakatol. Not to land but to skim through its skies, taking from it the gaseous, thunderous, and water-based materials to have them trail his contraction into the void; his contraction into his mind and the augmentations within. The Swarm Hive Cortex. A gift from the ArcaTech that allowed him to design and fabricate hollow scaffolds of metal joined together via actuators and sockets, filled with electronic organs and covered in synthetic muscles, false nerves, engineered skin, and arcane feathers.


    Birds.


    Drones. Controlled either remotely or autonomously.


    Duke intended to start his swarm off with a dozen reconnaissance drones consisting of 6 cranes and 6 harpy eagles. He found it was much harder than he anticipated, however, as the augmentation only assisted in fabricating and controlling the drones, not commanding them efficiently. Thus, he expanded. He compartmentalized his enhanced mental faculties to create functions, programs, and subprocesses; gaining ever more control over his swarm from his incorporeal throne in deep space, even as they descended to complete his orders; for Duke was not the only one to expand and contract.


    After the murder of an Eomen and the subsequent execution of Ranren Torhorn, Zaos and thus the elves of Rhar had contracted to grieve and make plans regarding their future. Thus, Eotrom and her Legions would expand to prepare and take action to seize the future. Other Legions had begun already. The Undying Night extended their wall of storms across the Rharian borders from Ligin to the Tri-Point. Vulcans let the volcanoes bellow and howl with fury and then channeled the flows away from Kasia and toward Rhar. The Deliverers continued their silent war, delivering fallen Rharian souls to damnation. The Blooded continued liberating the Rharian denizens who wished to leave. Lunarians kept a fleet behind to survey the coast from afar. The 10th¡­


    The now-Sky Skimmers swarmed across the Rharian skies, analyzing the mountain of cartographic data being transmitted by their Imperator''s drones, migrating and feasting on the forgotten armaments of trespassers and poachers. With the materials ingested, the drones did as life forms did and multiplied, laying eggs from the coast to the Tri-Point. Eggs that hatched in record time; dozens of hours, not dozens of days. Eggs that boasted more capabilities than their predecessors.


    Rather than ingesting seeds, berries, bugs, fish, mammals, and even other birds, the second-generation drones manufactured and planted them. Flowers that would grow and subtly change Rhar''s climate. Sensors that would be eaten by fauna and be taken deeper into the forest than they could travel. Cameras and microphones. Remotely controlled probes. Automated robots. More drones for the hive.


    So it was. One front turned into two.


    So it was. The next step down the Eternal Path was ensured.

 377 - Its Raining Men

    Samson Farmer.


    Dograsp. Pas County, Kasia.


    4th of Quartutus, 1492.


    ***


    It was amazing, how I was both still a child and not. Looking back, it was almost painful the way I lost sight of things the moment I arrived at the Bodhi Tree.


    I was a Farmer not just in name. My ancestry was composed of simple farmers, and we were good at it. With our robust bodies and magics of water and air running deep in the family, we had to be. With my Rain Magic, I had to be.


    I was a Farmer. But I lost sight of that when I awakened my other affinity core. Aluminum. A metal that wasn''t as strong as steel but was far lighter and didn''t rust. Because of that- because I was a Farmer, I aced the guild assessment and was admitted to the Bodhi Tree. But like the boy I was, I grew distracted the moment I stepped through those mythical doors. Pretty faces and glorious fantasies stole my attention away from what was important. Fortunately, that lasted until I was forced to step up.


    Becoming our party''s leader of team 3 was perhaps the best thing that could have happened to me. Working so closely with Amun allowed me to see what the others could not. I saw the method behind the madness he so often imposed on our party. Moreover, I saw how to lead properly. I saw how to gain the respect and thus the trust of those beneath me in ways that made them aspire to follow me on their own accord, not do so because I demanded it. That, and much more.


    Like many things, however, the realization of what was observed came at a much later date. It came after I learned the ways of my magic and manipulation with the rest of our party; after I swore into the Legions in exchange for becoming a ''Super-Soldier''; after I was educated and trained in Noctis Reach with the other founders; after I evolved, ascended, and descended to the Mortal Plane as a captain of this legendary organization; that was when it began.


    With the other fighters, we went to the unofficial capital of the Kasian Empire - an empire ruled by the civilized high orc, Bluszil. The great city of Froipuinx had a not-so-great population of 67,000 trapped behind a towering enchanted wall raised by the fear of the never-ending war outside. Mostly. There were always some youthful faces who dreamed of becoming mighty on the battlefield, like me. Amazonians were always frothing at the chance to join the military or a guild and show their might. There were always gladiators, fighting house champions, and executioners fighting, training, or killing.


    There were always those who sought to become Battle Mages. Soldiers, more superior than the rest.


    Such ambitions were not in short supply. And so, while we went to the guildhall to train in the combat techniques of our classes, our clones went to the southern wall to raise our towers on the back streets of the city, forming new gates that were open to both the dreamers inside and those that sought a challenge outside. Some were more strict with those they let in, however. Zarzok only allowed those who loved to make heads roll- executioners. The Amazonians filled their ranks only with those who shared their blood, either partially or fully. I allowed only simple lads into my ranks. Orphans, farmhands, apprentice carpenters, masons, smiths, and general laborers. The ones who had nothing, yet wanted to become everything.


    No matter the means to recruit, we all used the same method to train them - the same method used to train us. They were made to push themselves and developed a mind to kill through intense physical training and combat trails against their Doppelgangers and the undead. They were learned in the ways of might and magic in our classrooms. Then they were thrown to the wolves in our fighting pits and sent on patrol to gain a taste of true battle. But of course, not everyone was meant to make it. Not even we were safe from the Shadow of Death. Only we, however, could move beyond the doorway it produced.


    Many of those we recruited and subjected to our deathmatches and patrols saw gruesome ends. Such a thing was only natural. Therein saw the largest difference between us founders- us Conditor of the Legions, however. Our reactions could not have been more dissimilar. The Amazonians, rich in their culture, only saw those who died as the chaff surrounding the wheat. Yet even those weak ones were given second chances through undeath and thus became great as members of their undead shadow army.


    The Goliaths, Slate and Kaolinite, lived for challenges of skill, might, and prowess. Being from a species known for being nomadic raiders, they saw the deaths of their subordinates as the natural progression of things. In that way, they were a bit like the orcs outside. However, they had far more honor, immortalizing those who fell via busts, statues, and carvings the fallen souls could visit from the Under; for their bodies were raised as skeletons and zombies that had no recollection of the lives they once lived.


    Zarzok, because of his class, supplied the Legions with most of the heads that became Lore Skulls. Due to his species, there was little he remembered about those beneath him who fell. Even after being raised as undead. He only cared enough to remember if his subordinates were strong enough. And those who were strong enough would not die so easily.


    Most curiously, Winston Epeth didn''t mourn for his losses. Neither was he indifferent, however. Instead, he saw those lost lives as marks against his merit, birthing an insatiable drive to do better, to be better; to grow; immensely more than he already had.


    I bled for my men. I bled with them. In their last moments, I scarred myself on the arm before ending their suffering with my hand. We buried them in darkness with honor, grieved for their deaths, and immortalized them by building workstations, laboratories, and other facilities in my base; and with reverence, they were raised as undying shadows. Not as immortal soldiers, but as eternal instructors, philosophers, scientists, engineers; as diplomats. Any and everything that came from their deep connection to Amun. Even then, the burden was heavy, and I was not in a position to buckle under its weight. So, like Winston, I sought to become better according to my proclaimed dream - to be superior to all other soldiers in the realms.


    As I did to Amun, my subordinates followed me with fervor. We returned to Dograsp in the middle of Duotra to train harder than ever before. Through NoxNet, we educated ourselves, cultivating a way of life for the brotherhood we created. We delved deeper into the city to become learned in the ways of diplomacy and law. We adopted the ways of impeccable professionalism and became practiced in the art of crafting; and for all the teachings I imposed on my lads, I took on double the burden. I started studying and training with the tools used in the other Legions. Power Armor. Mech Wands, Tech Wands, and Turreted Wands. Raphew. Potters. Land Ships. Sky Skiffs. Battle Tanks. Spell Cannons. Drop Pods. I delved into the most secret and secure knowledge on the Net and learned what exactly a super soldier meant in Amun''s past life; both fictional and real, and found many things both awe-inspiring and deeply unnerving. Super serums. Augmentations. Transhumans. Genetic mutations. Saturnian Knights. The Astros Clan. Space Marines. Star Farers.


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    I used the blessings afforded to me, coupled with the ArcaTech''s guidance, to learn of all things science and engineering, all for the sake of designing Aluminum-Rain models of power armor, tech wands, tanks, vehicles, and drop pods for my lads. Then we organized to engage the orcish war bands once more. But not before the various fighters of Class 999 gathered together for the last time to organize ourselves in the hierarchy of Legions.


    It was not that we had no aspirations of being Imperators. It was that we had niches that, for the time being, fit best in other Legions. The 1st Legion, for most of us.


    "Well, we''re off to Chor." Winston was the first to say. His tower was formed into a ring and his troops were gathered in formation behind him, eager to get underway via the new toys provided to us.


    "Chor?" Teo cocked her head in confusion.


    "To rendezvous with Willard and Ritrix, and eventually Jaimess." He nodded. "We''ll be joining his Legion."


    "Lame!" The Amazonian rolled her eyes.


    Much to our surprise, however, Zarzok and his troops trotted up to his side in the following moments. "Well, it was fun and all, but I''m off to join the Crown as well. Make sure you send any prisoners my way."


    "We don''t keep prisoners." Ale Nicchi proudly said. "The weak die or run away. That is all."


    "Exactly," Zarzok smirked.


    With words of respect and promises of future challenges, Slate and Kaolinite departed shortly thereafter, racing up to the mountains in the distance to rendezvous with the other Goliaths and those who accompanied Roheisa from the Mazi Council. The rest of us went to war. The Warrior Corps and us, the Rain Men.


    Orsola took point, taking her marines on their boats up the Mistforest River; a vast stretch of water that began its journey high in the Rharian Mountains, carving through the western edge of the Kingdom before it arced around northern Mazi on its way to the coast. Though they and thus we didn''t travel that far. Being on average 20 kilometers in width, the Amazonian Marine Division had a lot of territory to cover. Territory that was ruled by wild blue orcs who used their manipulation prowess to entangle their boats in seaweed and drag marines into the depths; only for them to be skewered by the weapons enchanted with Orsola''s Spike Magic. And so, that left Ale Niche''s Warrior Army Division on their own as they straddled the southern side of the river. As they hoped to be.


    They were heavy warriors in terms of body mass only. They wore no armor, as the Amazonian culture dictated, using their superhuman abilities or, in Ale''s case, a body of jade to fight the roving lowland orcs using the same weapons and shields as their adversaries. Only, their adversaries'' weapons were more versatile. The green orcs threw massive clubs and large sharpened stones to the ground before engaging in hand-to-hand combat, attempting to kite them around the battlefield while their manipulation saw the grasses and weeds lash their tools into axes, spears, or swords and come to their aid at the most opportune times.


    Their sister- the strongest among them- took up a role that closely aligned with ours. However, it was done in a way that was much more¡­ crude. Their gear and devices used the power of Teofila''s Rubber Magic to make launch pads that sent them crashing into enemy emplacements headfirst, where they would bounce from wall to wall, slashing everything in sight. That was not to say she did not fall into our niche, however. Her twin gladius'' were charged with Toril''s lightning magic. By tapping them together, she could summon that lightning at will to either charge her swords or bring her to us in the clouds, where she was free to rain somewhere else.


    At times, she gathered the Amazonian Skyfall Division here, around my castle, reformed with my fused magics of aluminum and rain. They would regroup and recover but never impose on us, remaining at the edge of our clouds while Teo ascertained her next target. Rarely would we join her, for our men were forever in the depths of Bluszil''s Land while we commanders looked over them from on high.


    They swept across Pas County like a plague while remaining aware that the battles thus far were merely a prelude to what was to come. The high-orcs that dominated the wilds of Bluszil''s land were as mighty as they came. Their limbs were as large as the trees they manipulated, enabling them to carry axe heads and blades larger than any man in existence. They threw them to great effect, yet they always found their blades buried in trunks, where the wood gnarled and grew into handles for their wicked weapons.


    We had learned of such orcish ways long ago, however. More so, we were not lesser men.


    We did these things as the Bodhi Tree''s Fighting Guild dictated, for that was half the path of an evolved fighter, and we strode down it with a fervor unseen in centuries. Our constant warring and usurpring the life and strength of our foes, saw us matching those orcs in strength. It saw the Amazonians exceeding their might by leaps and bounds, and together, we crushed them. It saw us carve a line of carnage to Bluszil''s stronghold of Eagport by the 15th of Trescia. The last stop on our long path.


    Here, there were orcs of every kind, and they were civilized. Much less brutish, but far more cunning. Not to mention, larger. That was of no consequence to us, however. As we had done thus far, we donned our sacred Rain Mail, equipped our assault packs, and sheathed our weapons before moving to the edge of our cloud hold. In that way, we were like the Amazonians. They, however, relied on the magic of their leaders to impale, barrel into, or ricochet themselves off the ground, landing with devastating effects on the enemy. We rained indiscriminately.


    Our hive mail of Aluminum Rain-infused mithral saw our comically large assault packs liquidize and soak our bodies to liquidize us too. Then we flowed from our cloud as a mass of cold metallic rain that descended on Eagport in its entirety.


    Witch-Doc Sterling remained in the skies above ArcaTechist Tarou Kane to heal our lads and wreak havoc on the gates and walls of the city, sealing off exits while creating paths for our men to push through. Beneath them stood Civil Chief Lanely Aelfric, and General Jaren Blandus, the latter of whom directed their healing and firepower toward those who needed it most, whereas the former disrupted enemy communications and logistics whilst attempting to contact the rulers of Eagport. Leaving Chief Engineer Bilal Martel with me and Executor Shaw at the rear of the line to salvage or repair equipment and command, while Marshal Jafari Markos led the line from the front.


    We fought for nine days, wherein a domineering voice bellowed. "HOLD!" rendering the warring orcs into immobile statues. If only for a moment. In the next, the wood they''d manipulated around their massive blades withered and those stained masses were promptly stowed, exchanged for open hands that gestured us into the city.


    We were shown great hospitality for proving to be worthy foes to war against. A compliment that utterly swooned the Amazonians, for it was given by the strong. They congratulated us for doing what several generations of Bodhi Tree fighters could not and lamented that the tradition was lost to time and hard feelings by the other kingdoms. I gained some enlightenment from that, for we had learned to walk with death along the way, and so the thought of longstanding grudges between nations had missed my thoughts entirely. But then Bluszil asked for our names.


    "Conditor Legatus Noctis, Samson Framer. Commanding General of the Rain Men."


    "Nox, huh? That explains it." Bluszil chuckled. "You Legionaries fight well. Very well! All of you. I hereby grant those who bear the black tree free rein across Kasia!"


    We went to sleep that night among former foes - not enemies, for the orc civilization was more honorable than most I''d seen; and the knowledge I gained from the Legions made me see them as less of an evil scourge and more of a cruel necessity. War for an orc was comparable to emotions for a demon. Without that, without goblins, without them - without dragons - civilizations, both vile and righteous, would rise and be left unchecked and uncontested for eons to come. The fact that it was they who made it difficult for civilizations to rise to greatness - the fact that they needed war to remain happy - made them be seen as evil by the other civilized species.


    That was not the case for us.


    That was not the case for me. War was the forge that turned the boy I was into the man - the soldier I became. And so, I grew to adopt some of the orcish customs as my own in order to become super.


    That was all before Mani''s eye blinked. On that day - a single day after the war ended - I saw the three things that would turn us into the super soldiers we dreamed of becoming. And thus spent the rest of my time redesigning myself according to those most amazing things.


    Paragons. Templates. Augmentations.


    Rain Men.

 378 - Zimystian Matriarchs

    Imperator Opal Blackblood. Twilight Empress.


    5th of Quartutus, 1492.


    Shujen Deep Dark. Depth: 1,400 Mm.


    ***


    While we were not isolationists like the Lordlings, the best part about dwelling in the Deep Dark was the isolation. Few creatures dwelled in the very bowels of the Plane. None of those creatures were as prominent as the Nox. And so, no one but the Legions of Night could traverse it so easily.


    To go anywhere, all we needed to do was to decide to go. The radiant darkness would see our path be true. Our brand of technology, granted from on high, would see those impenetrable walls bored through. The occluded light from below would see us make the journey in record time. Our Uma, Alucard, would see it done in luxury.


    Born from the body of a dusk serpent, it allowed my legion to travel in silent luxury from the comfort of our castles and sanctuaries, constructed out of the ribs of a dusk pit viper. Us and, of course, our guest.


    Tava was young. Both as a Vampyr and as a member of her species. Yet, at 276 years of age, she was older than most in the Legions. She was old enough to use the species-specific manipulation technique that made elves one of the strongest species in the realms. Mana Forging. And, it turned out, she was just old enough to have witnessed Telin''s Intervention. So it was. She told me all about it when we departed for Shujen.


    She told me how the actions of her cousins in Youtera saw the universe''s creator appear before every elf in existence to deliver a cryptic message regarding the imminent arrival of his Champion. A select few were given tasks to prepare for his arrival and ascension. The King of her former homeland in Rhar was to teach him elven machinations. His sister, Indra of Redagh, was to show him the way to the Faewoods. And now, we know the drow of Shujen was to teach him about the other half of his blood.


    She told me these things while I showed her other things. The extent of her strength as a Vampyr and the limitations to it. The nature of her newfound blood magic- to use the iron in the blood we stockpiled to form weapons. I showed her the new machines born from my blessing: HemoTech; and together, we learned the extent of what it could do.


    To put it simply, there was little it could not do. It was everything our God had either created or used to create things, tailored to be powered by blood. For us, blood was heat energy. Blood was electrical energy. It was pressure. It acted as acids, solutions, or chemicals. And so too was it power itself, operating every device, workstation, and machine as if there were a being of flesh and blood at the controls. Or rather, only blood.


    The beating heart in the center of my Uma pushed blood into every crevice, nook, artery, and vein, driving it forward through the Deep Dark in ways similar to when it was alive. Blood flowed through the scales, carrying the heat generated by friction to heat exchangers in the venom sacks that ejected their superheated contents into the caverns before us. Blood saw those metallic liquids flow inside Alucard''s stomach and intestines to be processed while more blood saw them be forged, stamped, and machined into all manner of creations; tools, devices, every type of weapon, and different shades of my legendary armor, Brightest Night.


    Yet that was only the beginning.


    We received many exotic devices, automatons, and implants from ICE. The Grand Hadal Establishment gave us everything from Vampyric cuisine to recreational facilities attuned to our natures. Summer Wolf Industries bestowed on us several blood-based grains, fruits, brews, and meat; allowing us to take part in grand feasts alongside our siblings- the other Legions. No matter if it was new fighting styles, new tactics, Vampyric potions, coffins, or weapons; none of the things given to us by the Elven Devil''s Troupe were greater than the gifts bestowed on us by the Flesh Mother.


    The First Druid of Twilight took the greatest gift my God had given me, Karu, and blessed his seed to birth Aves of Dawn, Dusk, Metal, and Blood, giving the many vampyr of my Legion mounts to match their lesser versions of the Brightest Night. Lesser, only because their machine hearts pumped not with unicorn blood, and instead used the blood of the divine creatures spread across my woven world, Nue Dracule.


    Naturally, we spent our journey through the Peninsula''s bowels in training, honing our bodies for the trial to come just as we''d honed our spirits beneath the mountains of Rhar. Now that we had come to a rest in the Deep Dark of Shujen, the time had come to hone our minds.


    We arranged ourselves in Alucard''s head - the gothic castle formed before the linear Duskwoods and Dawn Forest, resting in the lungs of my mobile empire. In the throne room were seven thrones of petrified roots, besetting mine on either side, each straddled by a seat and lectern for their Lore Skulls and Umbra Emperors. Their grains, petrified into black marble, glowed the same crimson hue as the eyes of my first officers as they took their posts in the chamber.


    One by one, they set their Lore Skulls in place, causing their eyes to glow as their jaws cranked open to release their incantations into the room- a mist of blood and a song of destruction. As the latter came and went, the former dissipated through the chamber to fall into the twilight pouring from the large crystal above; turning the growing fog into a tangible field of dossiers drifting around a map of an exotic locale.


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    "Our God-Emperor will be venturing to a place called Zimysta Falls following his march through Nydorden Halls. Zimysta holds the title of the largest drow city in Nonus. Their task is to teach our God their culture. Thus, the God-Emperor shall to do the same. A cultural exchange." I teased before allowing my Lore Skull to begin the briefing.


    Egnas began by magnifying the eccentric map until a spider-shaped cavern dominated the room, its legs reaching out into the abyssal medium of the Dark World. "Named after the great waterfall the city was constructed around, Zimysta Falls is a spider-shaped cavern that houses the largest drow population in all of Nonus; although still quite small by their numbers alone. Approximately sixty thousand drow dwell in the Falls with their roughly seven hundred thousand slaves. They are ruled by the so-called Eight Eyes of Zimysta - the High Matrons and their Houses, who rule over the Eight Legs of Zimysta. Those Legs act as proxies for the Eyes, being the fangs that keeps the so-called Body Houses in line. Those bodies are a merchant''s guild, Ssznolu. Rough translation, Silken or Silent Art; or Treasure. and a slavers'' guild, Adin''agh. Rough translation, Beast Breaker. The bodies, the Legs, and the Eyes have been flagged for the Elven Devil''s Troupe. Thus, the Black Plume''s focus will be on Zimysta Fall''s priestesses, high priestesses, and Matrons; their clerics and rulers.


    "Like the Noctis Legions, each matron boasts a specialty that separates her from the others. Yet, unlike us, they are divided. Forever scheming and plotting against each other for their Goddess'' favor." Pausing, Egnas returned the map to its smaller position at the center and started a cascading montage of sights, sounds, and smells- memories of the things we''d expect to see in the place Drow lived; memories of the Abyssal Regent. "Their love for spiders bleeds into every aspect of their culture, including their offspring. Each matron has eight children. Six females, consisting of two High Priestesses, Two Priestesses, and two specialists; and two males, monks of the astral way, like Etan Za''Darmondiel," she said, pausing on the likeness of our God''s Champion before eight drow visages settled before us.


    "The smallest of the Eight Eyes is the House of Eralyth Jusztiir, which holds the record for the most surface raids and the highest number of goblin slaves; marked for destruction by Leary, the Faithful. The Seventh is the House of Phyrryn Yril''Lysaen, a house of sorcerers with demonic ancestry. Their hellfire is slated to be frozen over by Geri. Likewise, the Sixth House of Alauran Abaeir, otherwise known as the House of Beasts, has been scheduled for harvest by Freki. The Fifth House of Z''ryliss Hun''ana has the largest industry in all of Zimysta, producing the most jewelry and weapons from the gems and metals their dark gnome and dwarven slaves unearth. As such, they are to be conquered by the Tech Goddess, Iris Cole. Conversely, the Fourth House of Syndyrran Illistyn are the historians and archivists of Zimysta Falls, boasting detailed records of everything since their departure from Youtera, when the portals first opened. That knowledge and the denizens of that house are due to be preserved by Rickley Ravenbrook. Similarly, the Third House of Khaless Noqutyl boasts the most witches and wizards of Zimysta Falls. Naturally, they have been claimed by the Eldritch Artificer, Wilson Koorb.


    "The Second House of Barrdones Casia-Psellus is the wealthiest House due to its control over the merchant''s guild and the agreements they''ve made with the gray dwarven and deep gnome strongholds nearby. To add to that, one of her grandsons is the proprietor of the slavers'' guild. As such, those assets shall be repossessed by Blude and the Orcinus Mafia. Lastly, there is the House of High Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel, the eldest house of drow in existence, having descended from the Queen Demon Spider herself. As such, they are but a branch of the greater house present in Youtera. One of many scattered across the realms. They are the most powerful in Zimysta. Not only because of their heritage, but because every male in the house is either a monk, wizard, or witch. Additionally, some of them possess sorcery rarely seen across the Planes.


    "The eldest of her children is Nadra Za''Darmondiel. Occupation: High Priestess. Age: 542 years. Her daughters are Yaska, 440 years old; Nadde; 405 years; Nhilah, 361 years; Meelah, 319 years; Radrynn, 278 years; and Ryda, 212 years. Her sons are Sorn, 392 years; and Nijal, 372 years. High Matron Etyl''s second daughter is Yela Za''Darmondiel. Age: 337 years. Occupation: High Priestess. Her daughters are Nym, 299 years; the forsaken Daulery, 276 years old; Nyx, 259 years; Shaenya, 197 years; and Schyrl, 123 years. Her sons are Sid, 106 years; and Javrith, 89 years.


    "Her third daughter is Mala. Age: 294." Egnas said and subsequently paused, making us focus on the dainty figure of an otherwise ordinary drow. "Because of her sorcerous psionic abilities, Mala is a special case. Like Yela''s second daughter, Daulery, Mala is neither a priestess nor a specialist, but a word that roughly translates as, ''Tool.'' Her daughters are Ulile, 260 years; Haelra, 222 years; Bure, 199 years; Isstra, 176 years; Zessysn, 142 years; and Briztin, 111 years. Her sons are Belal, 88 years; and Viclin, 42 years.


    "High Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel''s fourth daughter is Ilar Za''Darmondiel. Age: 223 years. Occupation: Specialist. Designation, Arcane Alchemist. Her daughters are Phoruca, 102 years; Ryldin, 73 years; Viconia, 32 years; and Aufa, 19 years. Her sons are Antton, 66 years; and Aldo, 51 years. The father of those daughters is named Selph Za''Darmondiel. Age: 710 years. Occupation: House Lore Master and Consort of the High Matron.


    "The High Matron''s Fifth Daughter is Raki Za''Darmondiel. Age: 14 years. Occupation: Inner House Slave Marshal. A twin to the Sixth daughter, Ruel Za''Darmondiel. Age: 14 years. Occupation: Outer House Slave Marshal. The First Son is Etan Za''Darmondiel. Age: 17 years. Former Head Monk of Nydorden Halls. Former Abbot of House Za''Darmondiel. The Second Son is Eban Za''Darmondiel, a twin to Etan. Age: 17 years. Heart Keeper, or head witch, of House Za''Darmondiel. Archmage of Praesyris Arcanis Iraezt''rae. Rough translation: The Arcane Tower of secrets, seekers, or quests. The father of both sets of twins is Evar Za''Darmondiel. Age: 392 years. Occupation: War Master of House Za''Darmondiel and tower master of Mii''etus Praesyris. Rough translation: The Tower of Might.


    "They, the members of House Za''Darmondiel, are marked for change by our Liege and our God, the Eternal Emperor of Eotrom, Amun of the Nox." Egnas finished with grim finality.


    "And so, our mission is this," I said, passing my gaze across my officers. "While the Black Plume walks into the Demon Spider''s heart with our God-Emperor, the 8th Legion is to repeat what the Plume had done in Rhar. Inversely so. From our sanctuary, deep in the dark, the Owl''s light will rise and take root in the Dark Sky, giving rise to a Zimystian Dawn.


    "A dawn that shines, even in Gloom. "

 379 - The Return

    Amun.


    6th of Quartutus, 1492.


    Cuttleship. En route to Shujen.


    Mortal Time: 01:24.


    [The Path of Zefroth, Step 5: The Horsemen.]


    [The Eternal Path, Step 3: Mission.]


    [Grandmaster Artificer, Step 15: Grandmaster Armorer.]


    [Monastic Way of Death''s Door, Step 11: 2nd Opening.]


    [Rogue Devil, Step 5: The Network.]


    ***


    "Alright, alright already." I scattered everyone away from my horns by spawning a digital map between us. We have much to do and less than a year to do it."


    Waiting for everyone to take their seats, I sent the incomplete itinerary across the network to the Troupe, plus Doyle and Olga back in Eotrom. "The first order of business is our return to Nydorden Halls to finish my monastic path. After our tenure in the land down under, we''ll be going to the Bodhi Tree for the mid-year ceremony. We''ll see the fights and I''m to introduce myself as Guild Master to the Millennial Class alongside the Optimus Regni. Once that''s done, I must attend the summoning course, and then go to Redagh to see Indra."


    "Oh! I- Indra?" Reina awkwardly piped in. "Why¡­ must you go see her?"


    "She''s to teach me how to enter Faewoods."


    "I¡­ would not recommend going there!" she stiffly and abruptly stated. "That place is... weird."


    "But she feels it must be done, apparently." I sighed. "She''s been given the task from Telin. And I''m quite curious about the place if I''m being honest. But you don''t have to go if you don''t want to."


    "I''ll¡­ think about it."


    "Alright then." I nodded. "Well, after that, I''m off to Rhar to learn of elven technology from Corym."


    "Do you know anything about it?" Iris asked, flying up to Etan.


    "I know of it," he said. "Not necessarily the kind surface elves use. It is¡­" he looked around, finding the words. "A bit like the Umas. Arcane creatures are created for practical purposes. A bright bug as a light. A creature with a hot shell on which to cook food. That sort of thing."


    I gave a maddened cackle at the thought and cared not how they saw my excitable smile. But that soon died away upon remembering my earlier experiences. "As amazing as that sounds, though, I imagine I''ll do much fighting there. Corym, someone with Corym, his God, or most likely all of them despise me for killing Carbury. I won''t be surprised if they declare war on me. They sent a party after me before I arrived in Bakewia."


    "Yes." Zaraxus sighed heavily. "I wanted to end them."


    "Same." Lana sighed.


    "Yeah." I sighed back. "I don''t let you guys fight enough. I''ll try to change that from now on. That aside, the last item on the itinerary is to learn ritual magic from some high elves. I''m told they''ll contact me so we can do whatever until then. Any suggestions?"


    {"High elves, huh?"} Doyle chimed in, chortling loudly over the comms. {"I have a feeling you''ll get along with them just fine."}


    "I haven''t met many. Only a few in Bakewia. What are they like?" I asked.


    "High." Wilson dryly said. "My good friend, Marsha, is one. He''s a baker from Bakewia. He spoke to the Owl before I did, in fact. Knowing his whereabouts would be... fortuitous."


    "Oh, yeah." I snorted. "Marshalanorn and his family moved into the Cuttleship to, as he wished, ''Bake more.'' His bread is Sam''s sole competitor, I imagine."


    As if to prove my point, Sam''s voice came echoing through the channel. {"Son of a¡­"}


    "Case in point." I snickered.


    "I''ve got a list of places I''d like to go to," Blude began by highlighting several points on the map. Mostly places we''ve already been. Winwell''s Coast. Shujen Bay. The Cadegulch River, near Chor. The lake we made near the Tri-Point as well. I intend to build in these places. And maybe in more for the Ninth."


    "Very well," I said, adding it to the list. "I''d like to spend some time with them as well, so that works. We can maybe even take part in some naval combat."


    "I want to return to the place of my birth and bring them into my empire. But I must return alone," Leary told us. And I couldn''t have been more excited to witness it from afar.


    "We all lost most of our hardware after evolving. Replacing them will take some time." Iris all but pouted while motioning to her augmented empire. Then bounced back with a cold snicker as she continued. "Then I wanna go back to Winwell to see Father Horas and Mother Lois. And the other orphans. I can''t wait to see how they react to me growing seven years in a few days. Hehehe!"


    "Oh, I''m sure they won''t be the only ones shocked." I snorted knowingly.


    "I would like to return to Shujen. Roam the lands. See how it''s changed. Perhaps I''ll do that while you train below ground."


    "Why?" Geri turned to her brother with a frown, to which Freki shrugged and said. "Why not? Maybe I''ll summon the summer sun while I''m at it."


    "Not before spring." She muttered, pointed her glowing eyes away for a bit, and then gave him a crude smirk when distant howling began trickling into our ears.


    "Anyone else?" I asked, looking around to settle my eyes on Reina.


    "Nothing that wouldn''t come naturally." She said with a somewhat unsettling smile that remained for several seconds, lasting until she leaned forward to say, "Flesh. I need flesh. And I can find that anywhere!"


    "Chor thinks I''m dead, so there''s no reason to go back." Rickley carelessly shrugged, then turned her charming gaze to me. "The Purple Snake in Rhar, though..."


    "Done. Also on the menu," I began after updating the list, "we have to schedule a rendezvous at the hot springs before the end of the year. A revelry for the Legionaries as a reward for all their hard work. So here''s the plan. We''ll return to Shujen for my training and settle our business in the Darkworld, then visit Bakewia and Shujen to do a bit of R and R before we return to the Bodhi Tree. After that, I''ll go through the summoning course and then it''s on to Redagh and the Faewoods. My business with Rhar comes after that. Then we can all watch Leary do his thing, and with all that done, we can spend as much time as we want at sea or doing whatever else we please.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    "Before most of that, however, we have a trial." I smiled, gesturing to Etan.


    "My twin brother, Eban Za''Darmondiel; the twin sisters, Raki and Ruel; Ilar and her children; Daulery, and the other members of my family, as well as the countless drow entangled in their Goddesses webs. I wish to change them as I have changed. I wish to free them as I have been liberated. They and as many other drow as I can. I ask none of you to fight, however," Etan firmly said. "I ask only for your support. When Amun finishes his monastic training, my mother will bring him to Zimysta Falls. She will teach him the ways of drow. Drow history, drow magic, and drow culture; hoping to get Amun to join hands with their Queen Demon Spider. That, and she will be unhappy with my changes. She will seek to extract the knowledge of what happened in my absence; she will do so using the only means she knows."


    "You all know how I feel about such things." I flatly said to them. To which they all nodded resolutely. "This time, however, there''s a catch. We''re not only dealing with drow. We''re dealing with a goddess and her clergy. They, on the other hand, are dealing with me and my clergy.


    "So." I clapped my hands, grinning as I leaned forward. "Here''s the plan."


    ***


    Abbot Eiriol.


    ***


    Never have I seen more drow gathered in one place. Much less the mid-levels of my monastery. They trickled in over the last hour. Ever since the first scout came barging into my halls with news of Amun returning with Etan and many more, drow from every house swarmed from the depths below. Nobles were above commoners and commoners were above the most esteemed slaves, standing in endless rows along the cavern walls and stalactites; all for the sole purpose of bearing witness to the return of Elg-Horr after the chaos that had recently unfolded.


    Minutes passed, yet he entered not. Webs of intrigue were then spun. More scouts were sent out to return with news of the eccentric changes and his eclectic Troupe, bringing yet more of our kind from the bottomless pit to observe and scheme. And yet, more minutes passed, unto half an hour. The audacity birthed scorn in the matriarchs. Thus, their clerics were sent to confirm the whispers and rumors, only to return and induce panic as the soundless word or their divine nature''s soon spread. Only for that panic died down once the Matrons reminded everyone of what Amun was.


    Correction, they reminded everyone who Amun was. The Eternal Champion. Then, Amun entered to show everyone what he was; Nox.


    As only a necromancer could, he revived that panic with a single uttered word.


    <<Look.>> With his arms out wide, he brought every pair of eyes to his frame. An eye-catching masterpiece for both female and male drow alike. And for entirely different reasons.


    For the females, it was his appearance. His eyes were like that of a dragon''s, as they were before, but now radiant with divine light of differing colors. Blue was the sclera of his right eye, centered by a silver iris, while black was the sclera of his left eye, boasting a gilded iris. Strange, angular veins of deep blue mana ran up his forearms, snaking up his shoulders to end at the temples like arcane tattoos. Even without such features, he''d be lusted after. But then, of course, there was the tempest of arcana dancing around him that made him instantly noticeable to any elf. That made him a true catch for the Matrons, hence the presence of them and their daughters. What they did not count on, however, was the divine energy pouring off of him, giving every male drow present the one thing the Matrons abhorred in them. Hope.


    Nevertheless, there were more changes. Fiendish attributes like that unnerving tongue and the rows of jagged teeth within his smirking maw. The skin of his fingers elongated and darkened into blacker-than-black shards as he splayed his arms skin, their white nails whetted into sharpened points just like the horns extending high above his brow, set before a divine crown of sigils that billowed blue-green arcana.


    He displayed his greatness for all to see. Yet he was gesturing not to himself. Nor was he gazing upon me. His eyes were trained upon the Prime Matron of House Za''Darmondiel while the crowd erupted in ire or awe; a whisper to the echoes of his words. <<"My name is Amun of the Nox; Destroyer of Creators, Creator of Destroyers. Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair.">>


    My eyes and perhaps hers fell on the same face with those words. Etan Za''Darmondiel. My great-grandson. One of many. One of the sharpest. Among the strongest to have ever been. Now, there was a tempest of arcana surrounding him, too. Purple, with many specks of radiance that shone from within like stars. His skin was a shade more violet. His hair held traces of black. His eyes, wider and rounder than before, were gilded, not red. His body was taller. His arms were lankier. His hair was more voluminous. His True Self was divine.


    I chanced a look at Matron Etyl at that moment, finding her gazing upon her son with clear disgust masked beneath a veil of intrigue at the greater party. Not that she had to try. His troupe was formed in less than a month, and the group was as aloof and eclectic as the Eternal Champion himself, ranging from an oddly tall and well-groomed goblin to an elven woman who seemed to have no clue where she was. Even those from before were present and much older than they''d been mere days ago; and not only did they all possess arcana, they held more divine energy than any cleric I had ever seen.


    Amun''s demeanor flipped when his gaze fell upon me. He clasped his hands before him in respect and lowed his head to subdue the runic crown, the divine eyes, the veins, the devil''s horns, and the fiendish claws; compressing them into a sphere of black, gold, silver, and blue that he swallowed wholly, reducing himself to what he was when he first appeared to these halls - a brown-skinned drow with the eyes of a dragon. Only now, his hair was white.


    Recovering from my stupor, I returned the gesture and spread my arms out wide upon erecting. <<"We welcome your return to Nydorden Halls, Destroyer.">> I said in our mother tongue. <<"As before, you must work to catch up with your peers. This time, you are to march to the gates of the Darkworld. Unlike the other monks, however, you are to enter.">>


    His eyes slowly rose to the stalactite holding the matrons. Then they drifted around the endless ranks before falling once again to me, wherein I continued. <<"Your march through Nydorden Halls will see you fight unceasingly against foul beasts, stronger than the creatures above and more feral than the drow below.">>


    A line of silk detached from the ceiling with enough grace to nearly make me miss the thread latching onto my brow. While I noticed it, however, I could not keep its effect at bay and winced as I felt a mass of spiders crawl down my spine, forcing my eyes to my great-grandson, probing me to motion him forward from the drips of poison it contained. <<"Tell me of his progress. Of your journey.">> I added after another drip.


    Etan stood before me as Amun did, bowing respectfully before softly saying. <<"Amun recruited those you see before you, Abbot. The Elven Devil''s Troupe, he calls them. Along the way, we encountered an intense mana zone attuned to earth mana. With it, Amun has been attuned to ambient ki and has learned to create focus chambers of his own. He has his beads. Thus, he is ready to form his circuit and reach the twelfth step.">>


    <<"Excellent!">> I nodded turning back to the devil. <<"I have since come to learn of the transformation you displayed during your walk. I do hope to see it in person. However, you must remember the restrictions put in place. Fortunately for you, however, there is less catching up for you to do. You need only fight your way to the end of this hall. Naturally, your Troupe may conduct marches of their own. But they may not contribute to your descent.">>


    <<"First.">> A hiss sounded from above, summoning a Minotaur to stomp in from the side chamber. <<"A test of strength.">>


    Amun cared not about Matron Etyl''s interjection. He simply turned to face the Minotaur while we distanced ourselves.


    Upon the beast''s release from its shackles, Amun clasped his arms before him and uttered strange words in an even stranger language, something like Abyssal, but more eldritch, causing the beast''s body to glow with golden light and dim before it charged.


    Amun met the charging Minotaur head-on, snapping out his foot into a front kick that shook the airs of the cavern as it met its skull. While he was forced back, it was only because the stone gave way beneath his foot, carving a deep groove in the stone as the beast kept pushing. With the other foot pinning the beast''s head, Amun reached, arms crossed to take hold of the horns before he pulled, twisting violently.


    An echoing crack instantly silenced the beast''s movements, permitting Amun to carelessly drop the horns while his foot rose above his head and fell, delivering a merciless axe kick to the throat for good measure.


    With his use of magic, divine or not, he should have been punished mercilessly. And though he will be punished, it would have happened already, were it not for the perks of his monastic tradition stopping everyone in their tracks. If only for a second. In the next second, the Minotaur began convulsing and soon kicked itself up to its feet to wrestle its head back into the right position and bow before Amun, its fist clasped together akin to a monk''s.


    <<"Ah!">> I smiled. <<"So too, have I heard of this. The dead rise from your ki. Mindless. But with a higher martial proficiency. What was the skill called again?">>


    <<"Consume the Living.">>

 380 - The March

    Sorn Za''Darmondiel.


    6th of Quartutus, 1492.


    06:24.


    ***


    Elg-Horr. Elg-Horr. Elg-Horr. Everything everywhere was always about Elg-fucking-Horr. It got old three and a half centuries ago. Now, it was just unbearable.


    Granted, it was for a good reason. He was perhaps the only one of our kind to possess the most enviable power. To have the most enviable station. The only half-breed to be looked on favorably. His was a station we drow males hardly knew anything about.


    Of course, it had not always been that way. We only knew he was Elg-Horr. The Destroyer. Of our enemies? Ourselves? Of what, we could only speculate and believe it to be true; for we knew nothing. Not the Champion''s species. Not their abilities. Not if what was foretold would come and pass in a day or if it would take eons to come to fruition. Perhaps it was both. Perhaps it was neither. Naturally, it became an item of maddening obsession long before me or even High Priestess Nadra was born. Everyone had a theory, an idea as to the Eternal Champion''s aims and nature. Time marched forward as always, and now, centuries later, the day had finally come. The prize was before our eyes. We met the Eternal Champion. Learned his name, his species, his abilities; and yet, nothing changed.


    ''If he is the Destroyer, why are there more tales of him creating on the surface?'' That question or cruder variations of it was being flicked around many of our circles and heard whispered by the Matrons and their priestesses. All drow sought an answer for his aberrant behavior- aberrant not just by our standards but by the legacy of darkness within him. Many of them, in turn, came to the most simple conclusion.


    Weakness.


    Unwise and foolish, all of them. Clerics. Paladins. Fighters. Rogues. Wizards. Even some of my fellow monks- monks I trained! To think one who could so easily walk across Shujen was weak was preposterous. A country fell by his hand and his alone! A hand that would never fall, even from evisceration. A Living Lich of the Nox as the tales so often described.


    Here was no different, and yet it was. His march down the Halls of Nydorden was the most marvelous thing my eyes ever beheld. It was akin to a slow-moving calamity, preceded by the punishment imposed by the Abbot, wherein we beat, flayed, and impaled him for his unauthorized use of magic. Quiet steps evolved into a cavern-rumbling march that preceded his arrival to the next hall, always at a walking pace before the wedge of undead bodies. But they acted not. The dead marched behind him in synchronized steps, adjusting each time the half-dead being reacted to something approaching with hostile intent to make more room in the wedge, and all the while, his Troupe walked along the walls or ceiling of the cavern as if they were strolling through a forest, completely uncaring of the many drow-filled stalactites they passed within arms reach of as they amiably gazed upon the glory of the Halls.


    As innocent as some of them looked and as harmless as most humanoids were said to be, they quickly became the objects of everyone''s interest. Everyone wanted answers and assumed they were the keys that locked them away. Fortunately for the Matrons, we monks were the sole ones capable of finding them, resulting in an unfortunate situation for us.


    In truth, I would have rather it was the High Matron to have sent us away from the march to approach the second-most interesting aspect of this situation. She would have just given the order and used the chaos wrapped around our minds to enforce it. My mother- High Priestess Nadra, used violence.


    The pain hadn''t hurt me for centuries. It was the confusion of what a mother was that always conflicted me. Has conflicted me, ever since my walk nearly four centuries ago, wherein I witnessed how those on the surface were treated by those who birthed them. Always, I wanted to get away from her. And so, I gladly did as I was told.


    This time.


    <<"Hello, Uncle. Have you come to take back your station?">>


    If one did not end him, the other would have. He was an infant compared to me, my uncle; both of them. Etan Za''Darmondiel was hardly a year older than Amun. I was head monk long before Two Heart and High Matron Etyl first gazed upon one other. Deep down, he always hated the expected quarrel over the position, just as I had. Now, however, there was something different about him- and not just his black-streaked hair or golden irises. He didn''t even look at my boyishly handsome smile- an ultimate means to bring about the same expression once seen in him. He only shook his head in silence; and though he smiled, it was born from something else. Something¡­ outside himself.


    At that moment, it felt like the old days, a time not so long ago, when we would stand next to each other with pride as polar opposites. Etan was average. I was tall for a male. We both were handsome and high in station, seen as the first option for the many females below. It was something I took pride in. Much to the point of being one of the few monks in Nydorden Halls to style my hair and ears with shaved designs and piercings. Etan couldn''t care less about such things. He had always dressed practically, but he was born into a lifestyle that robbed him of himself.


    He stopped smiling, my baby uncle. He stopped laughing. As the day of his destiny neared, he grew anxious, withdrawn. A polar opposite to what stood before me now. And not just me. My brother and fellow master monk, Nijal. Cousins and other senior monks. Sid, Javrith, Antton, and Aldo; our sons, and more. We all stared at the target of Etan''s gaze with a wide range of expressions while we sought to connect our true selves with his. Only to find it... diffuse. Or rather, vast.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Mine was the first to merge and materialize with Etan''s, connecting his inner voice with mine., though I still could not see his true self. Only this purple cloud. "Never have I seen humanoids so relaxed in this place."


    To that, Etan normally would have said nothing. A grunt or perhaps a nod would have been it. Instead, he surprised us by turning to face us with his arm pointed at the strange group <<"Those are no mere humanoids. That is no mere half-elf. That is no mere goblin.">> He told us. Out loud and in our mother tongue, uncaring of the many ears listening in the dark. <<"Iris, Blude, Redd, and Sam were just the beginning. Amun hand-picked those individuals over all others on the Peninsula to be his traveling companions. He freely gave them his knowledge and power. Then he trained and educated them in his divine realm, overseeing the development of their minds, bodies, spirits, and souls. Molding them into paragons of both themselves and their species.">>


    "And what of the Destroyer himself?" the voice of Antton echoed in our combined minds while his eyes darted around the dark. "He looked true to his name before. A devil merged with one of us. Now, he looks-"


    <<"Divine?">> Etan finished in his stead, again using his voice. <<"He is a Cleric of the Eternal Path. It was that path he stepped down during our journey. That was the origin of the burst of energy seen by the surface dwellers. This arcana around us came from his evolution. His awakening as the Demi-Eternal God. Higher in station than any oth-">>


    <<"Mind your tongue, brother.">>


    My heart sank at the calm in my mother''s voice, only heard when she was on the brink of exploding. Each of us distanced ourselves and bowed in the same motion. Except Etan Za''Darmondiel. He simply turned to stare at her with that blank look of his and nodded. <<"Of course, High Priestess.">>


    While she was deeply bothered, Etan showed her no disrespect. Thus, she had no merit with which to punish him. Not that she needed any. High Priestess Nadra Za''Darmondiel was as cunning as she was cruel, however. Thus she sized up her baby brother in a way that pointed out the obvious- by lining his body in the flames of the faerie.


    At the snap of a finger, her violet flames were corrupted with streaks and tiny motes of gold, blue, and white light. Moreover, the arcane fire produced more smoke than a burning village, releasing deep purple clouds that formed an aura around Etan, similar to his true self.


    <<"You are no cleric, yet divine magic now dwells within you.">> My mother said. <<"As it does them.">>


    To that, Etan did as he normally would never. He said nothing.


    She pounced on him like a cave clacker, beating on and hissing in his face something foul as she spat out her demands. <<"What did you see?">>


    At that, Etan had the audacity to laugh, forcing my mother to step back in shock. But before she could act on his gall, Etan placated her with what she wanted most. Weaknesses.


    <<"When I first left Nydorden Halls, High Priestess, I saw one of his associates. A human artificer in Bakewia by the name of Edward Pascal. He revolutionized transportation in the land, air, and sea, creating carriages and carts powered by oil or magic. Now, surface-dwellers can cross the peninsula in less than a day, and so too can those machines be used to burrow deeper than even the gray dwarves. We then departed to the City of Bards, where I witnessed another associate of his from afar. New instruments, they were playing, studying, and learning to use in tandem with energy-based communications to reach millions of ears with their voices in real time. I then saw a patch of land in Redagh that was cursed by the Raven Reaper, wherein sat her dungeon, containing remnants of a lost era that hid something remarkable. In that same place, I saw a dead land receive a breath of life, but I went on to see the surface amid change, heralded by his hand.


    <<"By his hand, I saw the meek become mighty. By his hand, I saw what was once considered evil being seen as good, and good becoming evil. I saw humans. Halflings. Dwarves. Amazonians. Gnomes. Elves. Goblins. Orcs. Ogres. Vampyr. Dragonborne. A dragon. Devils. Celestials. I saw. Most importantly, High Priestess, I learned. These places. These creatures. They are not so different from us.">>


    <<"You would dare compare us to such filth?">> Nadra hissed before anyone else could.


    <<"Especially humanity.">> Etan calmly answered and stood tall amidst the growing ire. <<"After all, we Drow and humanity are the only creatures who cannot help warring with ourselves to the point of self-destruction. But all creatures, no matter how much they shy away from the truth, lives for war, but none more than humanity. They think of war, always. The innate games of their young revolve around predation and war. Their greatest tales and heroes are born and die in war. Their cities are raised to protect them from war. Their greatest inventions are designed to have them dominate wars. Their weapons are improved by war. Their lands are expanded by war. Their treasuries become wealthier from war, so long as they win them.


    <<"We are no different. Only our prowess and how we wage war are different and, indeed, superior. They wage war against themselves and those who stand against them. We war against ourselves and the surface elves.">>


    It was an answer that both perplexed and infuriated her. So much was true for me, so it had to be true for my mother. On one blade, using such logic to call a surface elf a warmongering barbarian was deeply amusing, but on the other, it implied we were no different from the rest of those animals.


    <<"So what, then, what makes us different?">> She seethed, hand reaching toward her mace.


    Etan paid it no mind. <<"We are not hypocrites. We do not lie to ourselves about what we are.">> He calmly blinked. <<"On the contrary, we drow are militant zealots who thrive in warfare, industriously impeccable in our application of violence. Moreover, your civilization does not brainwash you into thinking you are righteous and civil, unlike humanity, who needs a just cause or a deep delusion to attain such prowess. You instead embrace the life nature imposes on you, adapting accordingly.


    <<"As does mine.">> He continued, shocking us silent before any could ask the obvious.<<"The last thing I saw before I returned to this Plane was a realm of constant change, wherein everyone is free to live as they please, so long as they can pay the cost of freedom.">>


    <<"Freedom.">> Nadra repeated, disgust evident in her voice as her head tilted mockingly. <<So then tell me, Brother, if you are so free and so changed, what stands before me now?">>


    For the first time in what felt like ages, my baby uncle''s placid face peeled into a wide smile, making my spirit leap; off a cliff; for it his gaze was locked with his eldest sister''s eyes as he said. <<"Etan Za''Darmondiel.">>

 381 - Reap the Dead

    High Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel.


    8th of Quartutus, 1942.


    23:19


    ***


    After overseeing Amun''s corrective training, I followed him throughout his march, as many others did. I both saw and felt their eyes studying the marching ranks and files of the undead, multiplied by his every kill. I could hear their dripping and throbbing loins as they gazed upon his undying grace, spreading violence and chaos so effortlessly through these Halls. I could smell both the fear of his foes and the glee of our Goddess, most high.


    We all marched alongside him for two days. But only my eyes were cunning enough to look past the veil to try to discern what this creature was; other than a Living Lich of the Nox.


    Other than Elg-Horr.


    It began with his punishment for using magic when faced with the Minotaur. Knowing his perks- knowing his lineage, I ensured they showed him no mercy. He was beaten with adamantine clubs, bloodied with mithral torture devices, and bruised by the fists of our giant slaves. Arcane pins were pressed into his spine, his joints were crushed by vices, and a scimitar slid through his neck, releasing a crimson shower that released the necrotic fire at last; ending his punishment and beginning his march.


    That was not a result of his divinity, but that of his birthright. Only a child of the Nox could take such punishment and step away to receive training and drink that disgusting porridge without a sound or grimace. Only a class given to a child of the Nox would corrupt that porridge with the blue-green fires billowing from his form. Only a child on the Nox would grow accustomed to an emaciated body shrouded in the fires of deathly ki.


    I saw those things, and I ensured every drow in the Halls saw it too. Cunning though my eyes were, however, I saw nothing more before he arrived at the entrance to the meditation chambers. They saw the same as all others once he stepped inside to see a wide cavern filled with glowing roots and fungi, sprawling with skittering beasts that aided to the abundant ki within. Upon seeing it, his face illuminated like that of a child uneducated in the ways of class.


    Only the slightest bit of respect was shown to Abbot Eiriol when she called for him. He faced away from the luminous veins of Eiriol''s divine tree and bowed to her, prompting her lecture.


    A clear sign of her weakness.


    "You were given those." Eiriol pointed out weakly, motioning to the thumbnail-sized beads wrapped loosely around his wrists. Then gave him a larger set to wrap around his neck as she said. "Tell me of their purpose."


    "Ki accumulators." The child said simply.


    "A crass summary." She rolled her eyes. "Like mana forming arcana, those beads condense and purify ki before forcing it into your Ki Ponds. Your growth during your absence has seen your Ki become akin to a liquid, making the foundation for the circuit you will form between the first and second ki Ponds. These Focus Chambers are required to form them." She paused, pointing to the object of Amun''s earlier interest. The rooms in which they were to breathe for days on end; or whatever nonsense it was that they did.


    "You are not to leave your chamber until you complete your circuit. Upon completion, you are to march through to the next Hall, the end of which you will find a Meditation Hall, where you will repeat the same process to open your first and second necrotic ki ponds, then open your third and fourth ponds before linking them into a circuit. Once you have reached the end of these Halls, your final ponds will have opened and you can merge the chambers you have created with your lair stone to take with you."


    "That¡­ might be a bit of an issue," Amun muttered to himself. Though Eiriol, in her weakness, questioned it not. She simply nodded in response to Amun''s gesture and motioned for the head monks to take him to the other chambers. The ones with his¡­ peers.


    Remarkable though they were, two of them were only human, the other being a bald Felipian. Yet Elg-Horr seemed to treat them with as much reverence as his Troupe. They all huddled around him, exchanging stories while they laughed at the mundane and smiled at nothing like those on the surface often did. I could not watch such a legendary being engaging in such filth, so instead I skittered about the chambers to see what insight they''d conjure.


    The chamber belonging to the Merciful Monk, Rua Nun, contained a flat stone surrounded by a moat that would splash suddenly and with violence, releasing a short-lived shower that soon returned to calm, only for the cycle to repeat. That Felipian''s chamber was dark, save for a sphere of golden light sitting in the corner just before him. Peter''s chamber, the most complex of them all, contained a circle of elemental totems that duplicated and fused into each other to form more complex types of elemental ki. By far, they were the most interesting aspect of this endeavor. That, and speculating on what would become of the chamber belonging to Elg-Horr. However, I had not the patience to wait for him to emerge.


    A simple look was all it took for the monks to guide him to his chamber. He entered without delay, much to my satisfaction. Yet any feelings of purpose were quickly stolen away. It would take time for him to complete this process. Days onto tendays of constant breathing, and much more time to complete the steps. Interestingly, however, his Troupe seemed to understand such things as well. They stepped and sat to lie down on the walls as if they were blessed by the spider without hesitation, relegating themselves to more private endeavors.


    I stepped forward, studying each of them on approach. Some, I recognized. The human girl with the eyes of blue and the skirted tunic to match. The Gerdian with her two subordinates. The human twins of Shujen. All, however, were much older, and in some cases, much larger.


    I turned to the largest pair first, for they were the most recognizable to us drow. A woman with pale skin, blue-white braids, and vibrant blue eyes and a larger man with tanned skin, flowing black hair and eyes that burned like the sun. Both had to be at least two meters in height and dressed in the leathers and furs of those celestial beasts they slayed and were corrupted by. Both were surrounded by or resting atop similar canines of fire and ice, yet they hall had the same spark of intelligence seen in those wolves.


    "I remember you two." I finally said. "The Tortured Prince and Forsaken Princess of Shujen. I witnessed your curse. I saw the moment of your corruption and rebirth. He turned you into something feral indeed."


    "Some call it a curse." The male shrugged carelessly, grinning all the while. "We call it a blessing."


    I hated hearing a man talk to me in such a way, but I held my composure. For now. "Your names," I demanded.


    "Geri." The woman said proudly. Followed by the male. "Freki."


    "A ranger, I understand." I looked at the strange white and blue beasts surrounding Geri, staring back at me with intelligence. "However," I turned to the other, "a barbarian beloved by the animals, so?"


    "A Barbarian and a Warlock." He smiled wider, revealing pronounced canines in his oversized maw. "And a Sorcerer, among other things."


    My head rose and tilted at the word. ''Sorcery? Of course...'' Insight gained. I took a deep breath before calmly gesturing to the surrounding beasts. "And the wolves?"


    "Family."


    "And you lot." I buried my growing ire to face the girls, and the dainty lady in the blue tunic pounced forward with her sickening eagerness. "You are¡­ Iris Cole, are you not?"


    "Yup!" Her smile was almost painfully bright. That was the level of exuberant optimism she possessed. Enough to make me nauseous. Yet I overcame it masterfully.


    "Hmm." I began to turn away in a snort before I caught sight of a holy pendant dangling from her necklace. It was a wonder I hadn''t caught sight of it before, for it was a peculiar blue thing, perfectly smooth despite the screws comprising its clenched teeth, the gears comprising its unblinking eyes, and other such components of that small blue skull, radiant with power.


    Upon focusing, I saw the skull be limned in the same deep blue divine light found within the angular veins on Elg-Horr''s temples. A telltale sign, to be sure. "You are his cleric."


    It was a statement more than a question, and yet... "That I am!" She beamed, and with such suddenness, it forced many hidden drow to gasp in shock. Even for me, it was almost too much to take in. Her sudden declaration. Amun''s divine radiance. My son''s... changes. I could not blame my lessors for their lack of composure.


    However, our Goddess, Most High, would.


    "What is your domain?" I asked, to which she seemed hesitant. "Well?" I leaned forward. "Out with it!"


    "Well¡­ I''m sorta like a cleric and a druid."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "You have multiple classes." I huffed. "That is not so rare. How many do you have, Iris?"


    "Well, five," she said aloofly, tapping her chin without a modicum of respect. Just like her ''father.'' "But they''re all legendary classes, so."


    "What?" I turned on her rapidly and so suddenly it forced another echo of gasps from the shadows, but Iris and the rest of this exotic Troupe paid it little mind.


    "Well, I''m not exactly a cleric and a druid," she said. "I''m a Clerical Druid! The two master classes fused into a legendary class. I''m the Divine Mother of the Technica Dominion!"


    ''A Mother of Nature?'' I recoiled internally; but again, took no time to gather my wits. "Exquisite!" I exhaled after a short breath cycle. "Do tell me more."


    "Sure!" she beamed and turned to yell. "Stein!"


    Her call spawned a mass of blue mana at her side that began spinning violently, dragging along space itself until it tore a hole through to some distant place with a distinctive warble, then fell silent. And in its place was a canine with squat, almost dwarven legs that trotted swiftly up to her side.


    "Your familiar?" I raised my brow at the exotic surface creature.


    "My pet." She corrected before picking the thing up to point at its eye. "Look closely."


    Surely, the act of following such an order was beneath me. Thus, I let it be known through our silent language that my compliance was of my volition; and for good reason, for I saw traces of machinery within that creature that went beyond mere clockwork mechanics, steam, or even enchantments. Its teeth were of some ceramic material, connected to gums made of some unnatural, non-magical material; and its pupils beheld a multitude of tiny lenses that moved and focused on me with the intelligence of a sapient.


    My eyes trailed after it once it wriggled out of her arms to run off in the distance. I poured my senses into the ambient mana to follow it. Yet Iris'' voice chased me to the end.


    "I''m the Divine Mother of creatures like that. There''s an entire food chain. But anyway, all of my classes are legendary. I''m also a Sorcerous Warlock."


    Being a warlock and a cleric was not impossible. Such things depended only on the circumstances of one''s exchange for power. Power for unyielding faith made clerics. Power for an oath of conviction made paladins, deity or not. Power for one''s spirit and or soul made warlocks. Nothing could stop a deity from giving power to a mortal in exchange for all three. Nothing but the corruption of the wielder.


    Lilith, Most High, could easily do so if She wished. But in Her infinite wisdom, She saw fit to make Her Priestesses, High Priestesses, Matrons, and High Matrons more than capable enough to do her bidding. To think Elg-Horr would need such things were¡­ regrettable. But, champion or not, he was only a male half-breed.


    "Well, we''re all warlocks." She continued, almost earning me a laugh before her next words caught my attention. "We''re all sorcerers and necromancers too. But only some of us are Sorcerous Warlocks. One of them being me."


    "N- necromancers?" I asked, cursing myself again for my lack of poise, for I should have known his propensity to give his power away would apply to the Nox''s necromancy. Perhaps their darkness as well.


    "I''m Iris Cole!" She beamed simply. "That last name isn''t something you get from being adopted. It''s the opposite. To be taken into the Royal House of Cole''s bloodline, one must adopt their blood."


    The silence was long and palpable. But not without meaning, for I studied this Troupe in a new light. Starting with the young Iris Cole. Childish and doll-like. Her skin was impeccably smooth; a light tan like the beach sand of underground lakes. Her clothes seemed plain sitting atop her frame, if not made from fine materials. A long blue tunic was fastened down with a thick belt boasting a single pouch above her right buttock. Curiously, though, while the tunic had short sleeves, she saw fit to fasten white silken sleeves to her forearms to leave its flowing ribbons and tassels trailing behind her akin to a cleric''s robe. White trousers and ankle-high boots of polished brown hide covered her lower portion, while her head was adorned with a tiara and an earring that positively radiated arcane and divine energies.


    The next lot was the same. Blude and her two followers- now standing before many more- had grown considerably. The Gerdian had grown taller and slimmer since she was last here, forming a fine physique that would surely please many men or women in a few years. If they weren''t subdued by the coldness in her gaze, they would be subdued by the regal demeanor in which she and her group carried themselves. They dressed the most elegant of all of them. Polished shoes sat partially hidden beneath fitted slacks dyed slate black. Coats of a similar hue covered their tops, hemmed short on the bottoms to end at the lower hips, with long on the sleeves to cover the arms up to the wrists. They boasted buttons up to the diaphragm to dominate their chests with the dissimilarly colored collared shirts they wore, bisected down the middle by strips of what appeared to be gilded silk. And each had her version of a crown with the jewelry to match.


    "And you?" I asked the crowned Gerdian post-assessment.


    Young as she was, she was strong, and in ways that came not from her blood. She did not even break eye contact with a blink while she stared for a full second, dragging on her cigarette before finally saying. "You don''t remember me, High Matron Etyl? That hurts, you know."


    "Of course, Blude." My smile was natural, yet cut short once she reached her hand out in a human greeting. Or so it seemed. As quickly as it extended, her hand retracted to palm her chest while her head lowered. "Pleased to stand before you as the Proprietor of the Grand Hadal Enterprise; and the Prime Matriarch of the Orcinus Mafia."


    My smile was natural. "A pleasure."


    The small human was their polar opposite. A young male. Slim and big-headed, like every wizard in existence, including my second son. If there was any frame to be found, it was hidden beneath a baggy feathered robe; as was he hidden behind a table strewn with alchemical equipment.


    Ignoring him, I turned to the others that mattered. If for different reasons.


    The species of those two made them apparent. One was granted the malice of everyone nearby, the other was granted their pity, for one was a half-breed surface elf; the other, a halfling.


    The halfling''s skin was tan but somehow pale or otherwise thin enough to expose her veins, black like her vibrant hair, which was as silky as the black and maroon doublet covering her frame. Many bracelets and rings adorned her little arms and fingers, but they were simply baubles and trinkets, save the strange box dangling from her neck. A strange, magical thing she often stroked, thumbed, or blew into its straw to give the Halls a soothingly macabre ambiance.


    "A bard." I began, implying for her to pick up a tale of her history. But alas.


    "Not quite, my dear High Matron." She sang and throbbed out a tune. "A Bardic Warlock; patron''d to Amun, for my art. In passing, during funerals, that is when my stories are told. Me, Rickley Ravenbrook; Celebrity of Souls."


    "Quite the performance," I said, admiring the songs she played throughout her patron''s march. But then I turned to the other and felt any sense of admiration fade into the dark.


    Rekindling some sense of purpose by studying her visage worked not, for she sat atop her stone, kicking her feet and smiling at everything that met her gaze like an amiable fool. Yet it was her uncanny visage that kept my disgust for her at sneer. She was like a doll in every sense of the word. An old doll found in a haunted abode, lost to the ages. One with disheveled silky hair and the same pale but tanned skin as the halfling. Her lips were cracked and black like bark, yet appeared to be glossy and smooth, as was the rough scar around her neck. Covering her fragile frame was a robe and cowl of leaves, feathers, and bones held in place with thorny vines and dry sinew, much like the particularly dreadful bird perched on her shoulder.


    "I''m the opposite of Iris. A Druidic Cleric, not a Clerical Druid. Like a cleric, my perks are activated through prayer and worship, but manifests as druidic magic." She creepily said before I could ask, and with such calm, I felt my heart nearly burst; until it shuddered at the sound of her next words. "As the Divine Mother of the Genetica Dominium, I design and grow my broods from harvested flesh, unlike Iris."


    I knew not what unsettled me more. My ignorance of this¡­ Genetica, the idea of her being a Divine Mother of Nature, or the sight of that strange dog of metal trotting back to Iris. In hindsight, it was surely the latter, for I felt all I was feeling wash away at the sight of that strange creature. It radiated no magic, yet it pinned countless blades, shackles, and metallic objects to its back using some type of energy that was soon released.


    The clanging echoes of steel on stone pulled every pair of drow eyes with nearly as much strength as my commanding voice. Like me, they watched the creature burrow into the pile with reckless abandon, biting and gnawing on metal like an orc slave on rothay jerky until the pile was diminished, wherein it trotted to Iris to take up a hunched position that was immediately recognizable.


    While disgusting, I could not turn away from the crude sight, for I saw traces of silver plop to the ground.


    Not silver, I realized. Steel. Steel¡­ stool. Foamy and pliable, even at cool temperatures.


    "Good boy!" Iris praised the creature, rubbing its head before she reached for the stool.


    Only we drow seemed horrified. The others barely paid attention to her working the steel stool in her hands. "Creatures like Stein are recyclers. In his case, he eats and poops metal." Iris finally and childishly explained after molding the stool into the shape of a blade. "Well, he eats metal. He poops this stuff." She waved the thing in the air. "I call it metallic clay." Saying nothing more, she went over to the robed human male. "Wilson-"


    "I am not your walking forge, Iris." He said dryly, and without looking up from his table. "We''ve been over this fourteen times now."


    "Awe!" she tutted and turned in the same breath, shouting. "Hey, Freki!"


    The area burst into movement. An impressively quick swipe of Freki''s arm conjured a sphere of burning vines that was immediately smacked to bits by Geri, who shouted, "Get that shit outta here!"


    I watched in bemusement as Iris, saying nothing, crouched low to gather what remained of the burning vines, forming a pile over her metal clay before she deeply inhaled. Only to be cut off by a groan. "Iris!"


    Both she and I turned to Freki, beckoning her to a massive spectral claw made of the same burning vines as before, hovering just over the man''s arm.


    My eyes widened as she stuck her arms inside the conflagration without flinching. Regrettably, however, the pain of light and heat intensified all around us, blinding me to what was to come. I almost saw the crimson webs consume me in their wrath. But a voice and a glint of silver pulled my it under control.


    "See!" She held up the dagger, no different from one still hot from the forge, albeit much cooler than it should have been.


    Shielding my hand with mana, I grabbed her arm and was surprised by the density of her... ''flesh.'' It was comparable to dwarven physiology, but¡­ unnatural, for it throbbed with power that came not from magic, much like this creature. Moreover, her arm was growing hotter by the second. Hotter than even those of House Yril¡¯Lysaen; almost as if it were absorbing the blade''s heat.


    "You are not human," I stated, releasing her.


    "Yes, huh! I can manipulate elements! See!" She raised her fist sharply to squeeze mana behind her in such a way that saw the granite walls squeeze a chunk of itself out, sending it flying into her hand. If only for her to bite into it like rock candy. "It''s just, none of us are exactly what we seem to be, High Matron. Just like Stein used to be a normal dog, I used to be a normal human before I was augmented."


    ''None of us are exactly what we seem to be.'' I rose and tilted my head, ensuring Iris and company witnessed my ensuing smile. "I see. And what of my son?"


    "Oh," she carelessly shrugged. "Only he can answer that."


    "Yes, only he can answer that. Of course." I nodded, smiling wider as I turned. "I wonder what answer he has for his dearest mother."

 382 - Rough Reboot

    Iris Cole.


    9th of Quartutus, 1492.


    The Shujen Kingdom Underground. 200 km depth. Nydorden Halls.


    15:45.


    ***


    {ICE V3.1¡­ Boot Up Sequence Initiated.}


    {Initializing POST.}


    {Systems Check: Green.}


    {Shifting Engram Polarity: Engram Consciousness Achieved.}


    {Stimulating Sensory Suite: Online}


    {Checking Connections.}


    {Running Diagnostics: All Systems Green.}


    {POST Complete.}


    {Mana Web: Connected.}


    {VoidNet: Connected}


    {NoxNet: Connected}


    {Encryptions Established¡­ Loading Profile: Supreme Administrator: Praefectus Noctis¡­ Load Complete.}


    {Running TechGoddess.Exe.}


    ¡ª


    I rebooted to find virtually all of my hardware missing and a drow''s visage poised a hair''s breadth away from my optics. I was not in a good mood. I felt vulnerable. Naked. High Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel being so close pushed the boundaries of my temper settings to the edge, but there was a lot on my processors to distract me, and ignoring her was easy with tunable sensors such as mine. Her voice was muted, and though I could have rendered her invisible to my optics, I elected not to and instead began a walk of my own.


    Still, she followed me while I followed Deeke''s self-imposed march for much of 24 hours, but I did no marching. I redesigned suites for my augmentations and hardware; the armored skin, enhanced muscles, prehensile tail belt, the deployable turreted wands in my pauldrons, drones, armor, and so on; all that had been lost with my post-evolutionary update, dubbed the Iris Cole Engram Version 3.1. Gathering the materials for the augmentations was both an interesting and frustrating endeavor. Etyl tailed me closer than Ein did, but she didn''t ask anything of him when he started chewing on resources or equipment dropped by the dead. Not that she did to me, though. Molecular magic made absorbing matter into my body easier than ever. Especially when I could just conjure the manufactured molecules in my mouth. But when I couldn''t cast spells without a rainfall of questions, I had to absorb them passively through my feet instead.


    A day of walking saw those materials gathered or otherwise synthesized. Feigning sleep, I then activated the augmentation process to return to me what was lost, yet preserved some processing power for passive sensing and the fulfilment of my duties. I deliberately left my optics off, though. The probability of Etyl peering into the depths of my optics was simply too high, and though I was now in a better mood, I didn''t feel like getting brought down by her scheming curiosities. Or worse, be seen as some exotic specimen to analyze.


    I instead expanded my reach beyond my body to step halfway into the Game, allowing the comforting field of grid lines to spread infinitely around me. Nydorden Halls was clearer than ever before. Less because of my father and more because of Deeke, wreaking havoc in the other halls above, yet my perspective widened further. It crossed the Peninsula in milliseconds. Connections were established to each Imperator''s domain, creating bridges to their generals that fed to their machines, devices, and equipment; my primary domain - technology.


    She knew of my faith. She knew of my class. Yet Etyl interrupted me to state the obvious. "You give a Mass Blessing."


    I turned my auditory settings down and continued about my business. But not before picking up on Wilson''s deadpanned words. "I do. Thanks for noticing, High Matron. Although, I wouldn''t quite call it-"


    I couldn''t laugh at the thought of her turning her ire upon the uncaring Eldritch Engineer, for I was granting him admin-level access to the Deathworld of ice floating above Shujen. It was the largest blip in my digital world. A veritable star of data that granted a thousand perspectives of the newly constructed arcologies and the gluttonous one who governed them from nearby. That was something I wished to see in person. Thus, with Wilson''s access granted, I prayed my stream of data to the ArcaTech as thanks for the retention and automatic updating of my software before stepping fully into the Game.


    It was only natural for the games of Space Go between my team and my dad and sometimes Blude to grow into a constant, ever-expanding game between Eotrom''s Legions and the surrounding polities. After all, the software I was rewarded for completing my bardic studies was focused on logistics, commanding, and leadership. The Logi-Cortex, General Mode, and the Noctis Tracker; a database, blue force tracker, and status indicator for every legionary. Everything was the same. And so, just as I did all those years ago, I gazed upon the legions civilian and logistical units scattered high above or deep below the Peninsula, leaving a slim minority spread across the vast surface with their military counterparts. Contrarily, every unit of the natives was somewhere on or just below the surface. Few existed in the skies, and the ones found deep below had only scratched the dark surface.


    Even now, it was a surreal experience. I was both on, above, and within the Bodhi Peninsula whilst simultaneously sitting on the high throne of our round table; us, the Legions'' Generals, augmented with their Honorable Heirs. So too were we connected; them to the technology and members of their legions and me to them all. And so we played, maneuvering our pieces across the ever-expansive board in response to those known and unknown things out to plague Eotrom.


    As of late, the maneuvering had been done independently, with the Legions operating in the same regions they''d been in for months. Moreover, each Legion established its own daily regimens and training courses for their recruits, built on weekly schedules that varied in levels of strictness; all while fulfilling their Imperators'' orders. The probability of them remaining in their present locales for the rest of the year was high. Especially with there being two months until they were to enter the Darkroom. Many were having their Doppelgangers follow in the footsteps of the Grandmaster and Imperator Ed by turning to more philanthropic endeavors to net more recruits; building orphanages or schools, sponsoring businesses, organizations, or even contacting the rulers of these nations.


    That was all fine and well, but things had changed. Those beyond our budding empire had gotten involved, and the Imperators had completed the Grandmaster''s orders to establish unique cultures and become self-sufficient empires.


    Summarization; it was my move.


    The first order of business was the distribution of rewards to every legionary. Badges, tabs, and decorated medals for their dress uniforms to display accomplished feats, recognize those who completed higher levels of training, and reward those who participated in the few campaigns we''d seen thus far. A small feat and only the beginning of my turn. What came next was just as small, but much more significant. Data packets regarding the Darkroom and the prerequisites to become official Noctis Legionaries and obtain the warlock paths the Grandmaster set out for them. I then approved the Anti-Expansionists Measure and the Overwatch, Assist, and Uplift Program put forth by the Crown, making it effective immediately. Then came the fun part.


    War was brewing in Rhar, and we would ensure we would be poised for the first strike. Thus, the Legions that were not preoccupied received orders that varied in both depth and intensity. Those with the most on their plate were the Legion of the Grandmaster''s vassal, Jaimess A. Corey, the Tengu Tamer; which was fitting, considering it was he who warned King Corym against sending agents after the Grandmaster. Naturally, the recent spilling of blood saw the situation intensify, so now, General Carver was to plan for the Crown to begin a covert smear campaign against Rhar before they arrived in Nevstan. Moreover, they were to continue gaining the favor of the Bodhi Nations by forming Eomen Embassies in Vruria, Ligin, Nevstan, Bakewia, and Shujen.


    The Legion of Grandmaster''s knight, Toril O''Connell, was behind them; mainly because of their nature, but also not. As the Legions'' premier combat unit, the Agents of the Undying Night had been in their tempest castle, high above Ligin, where they developed a strict 72 hour training regime with two days of rest after; twice a week. With one session in garrison and the other in the field, they''ve been constantly honing their skills while developing their minds and spirits through studies, chores, and meditations in their time off.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Now, they were to do the same. General Mide was to recreate what she saw in the Game within their simulation rooms and training fields to mimic Rharian terrain and develop battle tactics against the wood elves on their home turf; and any of their potential allies. Likewise, General Wangum was to have the Cogs push through Mazi with haste, skip across Vruria to pave the roads of Ligin, and arrive in Kasia to give the natives- particularly the dwarves- the tools to hit their enemies where it hurt the most.


    Taking the Cogs'' place in Mazi would be the 4th Legion, whose Imperator was a curiosity to me. She, too, was an Imperial Princess. But she had Amazonian blood flowing in her and was my dad''s political equal in Maru; a place I''d never been. Moreover, she recently took an oath to become a paladin, hence her migration to Mazi, where hidden warehouses of ICE and Pascal Industries vehicles sat waiting for the Vulcans to introduce them to the barbaric locals. As such, General Virgilius had but one order - keep the barbarians away from Vruria.


    The 5th and 6th Legions operated as mirrors, both in terms of location and principle. General Kausalya was to have a group of her Deliverers, stationed at the sky''s edge, sent down to Chaulort to contact the Principality''s ruling class whereas General Grozdan would remain in their uma with the staff while they relocated to the Shores of Redagh, ensuring their Imperator would become the first Legionary to reach the end of an evolutionary path. Their subordinate Keepers, scattered far and wide across the Peninsula''s extreme mana zones, were to recruit more members while encouraging the growth of dungeons and monster lairs throughout.


    It was strange to give orders to the vampyr who raised me. Being a Legion of Oracles, Weavers, and Holy Warriors, their aspirations were dictated by faith. Their faith dictated they spread the glory of the World Weaver by liberating and uplifting the oppressed who dwelled on the surface. As such, the only order for General Dufort was to have the 7th Legion continue thrumming the moonlight that fell on the sleeping Rharian denizens and residents, giving the oppressed dreams and visions that would guide them to liberation; giving their oppressors nightmares of the Bloodmoon that would soon haunt them.


    Admiral Riptide was the busiest of our session, for he was organizing the Lunarians around the pirate-occupied Isle Falna, in the outlet of Chaulort Bay and overseeing the submerged mountain staring down Rhar. Good on its own, yet more could be done. Thus, a detachment was to be sent off to the east, where they would find a coastal dwelling sea beast that may be persuaded to their side, given their Imperator''s perks. Two more detachments were sent into the depths of the bay, where they would push deeper into the fjord and come upon the capital of Crowmond. One would remain and another would continue down the rivers to pass the border into Kasia, where they would continue out into the sea from the Peninsula''s southern-most point to rendezvous with the fleets in the coming weeks.


    Akin to the 5th and 6th Legions, the opposite was to happen to the Sky Riders- or, as they now called themselves, the Sky Skimmers. Only a small, elite detachment would remain in their station above Rhar. General Fausta would have the rest of the 10th Legion scattered to the skies above each country in the Peninsula to continue realm-wide cartographic, intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance efforts by training the locals to fly under their own power.


    The 8th Legion, on the other hand, was stationed below us, in the Deep Dark, acting on orders from the Owl, just as the 11th Legion was above us, in Shujen, acting on orders from the Exalted Gloom.


    Summarization; my turn was over, so I stepped out of the Game to find my upgrades complete, yet it took longer than I suspected. My optics rebooted to reveal it was noon, and I had many missed reports from my crew. Mostly status updates. Those were acknowledged before I stirred, leaving an overdue task to prioritize and a concern to address later.


    Thankfully, Etyl was nowhere to be found before I warped out of the Halls. It was always a fun feeling. Like flipping into a different reality that could sometimes take the breath away. This time was one such case. I landed to see the effect of Geri''s trek across the Shujen wildlands. Or perhaps the sky. The gloomy blanket of sterile air and white snow had given way to a dozen smells, pushed around by the moderately strong and warm breezes accented by the buzzes, chirps, and rummaging of a hundred springtime animals climbing from their burrows. Then there came¡­ a ripple or twang. Not quite a warble like my warping, but something close enough to it.


    Regretfully, it seemed my processors still weren''t up to speed, for I was reminded of my once-lost armored exoskeleton and all the things that came with it far too late. My nape-mounted optics, namely. Thinking it was still absent saw me turn about and come eye to crimson eye with not one but three drow. Thankfully, text and images appeared like flies around their heads before I could scan them, allowing me to focus on their gear. All of them were children of Ilar and children they were still considered. Two monks, aged 66 and 51, accompanied a female of 19 years, dressed in their standard clerical plate armor; mithral crafted ridiculously thin to resemble an ostentatious piece of spider chitin, adorned with many folded layers of spider silk, also woven with mithral.


    Impressive.


    "That yellow glow to your eyes. What was it?"


    "I was admiring your armor." I had to tune my emotional sensitivity down to not sound too snarky. That, however, resulted in a deadpan tone that I was sure would bother her. Not that I cared. I wanted not to be having this conversation.


    "I am Aufa Za''Darmondiel. Fourth daughter of Ilar Za''Darmondiel, third daughter of High Matron Etyl."


    I looked at the two others, assuming they would introduce themselves next. Yet they seemed reluctant to even look into my eyes. "Iris Cole," I said. Then the two males spoke up.


    "First Son of Ilar, Antton."


    "Second Son of Ilar, Aldo."


    "We are most curious about you, the Destroyer''s adopted human daughter," Aufa stated with no veils for her contempt, approaching with her fist held over her heart- over the sprawled spider of her goddess. "May we accompany you?"


    "If you can keep up," was all I said before warping to Dryndrabethei.


    It wasn''t far, yet I was still disappointed to hear the twang behind me announce their presence, so much so that I debated turning my emotional settings down even more. Alas, they were required to gain a full impression of the changes to the city. Few things ever went as planned, however. I instead got to work integrating circuits and sensors into guide posts of wood while my mind split its processes to open a channel to my crew in the Cuttleship. First to look upon their digitized faces, second to think back on our memories as an extended family and reflect on how far we''ve all come; how much we''ve grown.


    It was astounding. And yet, post-evolution, I was lost; me, the divine mother of augmented beings.


    With tact, I voiced my concerns- the gut feeling that told me not to intake the Voney Wasps royal jelly and become like the augmented Apis. Despite my squad- my party- doing the same, something told me not to. Perhaps, I suggested, it was because the creatures they picked were a part of the ArcaTech''s domain. Erja drank the ''venom'' of a trapdoor spider. Margo ate the ''fungus'' of the leaf-cutter ants. Aqsa was stung by a wasp queen. Gaheris was bitten by a jumping spider. Kane got marked by beavers. Even Deeke had his termites waiting to nest within him once he finished marching through Nydorden Halls, eager to construct the ki-powered drives of his Machine Principle.


    Everyone except Deeke was in the Cuttleship as a result. Encased in webs, cocoons, or bundles of sticks while their internal hardware changed to reflect their chosen creatures. Creatures I believed to be in the ArcaTech''s domain. Wrongly so.


    Like any good crew, they brought up interesting points as to why I was wrong. My paladin, Callie Payne, reminded me that all augmented creatures were part of my domain, and integrating such things wasn''t my immediate priority. Truly enough, the immediate task of my Clerical Druid class was to create a mortal domain for my creatures. The problem was, there were lands with an abundance of waste on the Peninsula. Not so in the Darkworld, however.


    It was then that my primary and secondary processes switched. At the forefront of my mind were Aufa and the other two, who were gawking at the Warp Post that had just implanted itself into the ground and built a dais for itself. I told them what it was before they could ask, then connected the post to the network before warping to Lainoara''s Splint to repeat the act. Meanwhile, my secondary processes listened to Elias'' recount of my dad''s memories. Everyone, even his ancestors, expected him to raise the undead the moment he figured out how to. Yet, he was patient. He waited until an opportunity for greatness presented itself. That came when Carbury attacked him. Zalan then suggested that was what was responsible for him becoming a god of nature, but I disagreed, stating it was because he introduced the concept of biomimicry into this universe and had always had a fondness for nature. Simultaneously, my voice was interacting with Aufa, pointing out the changes to the two cities in which we''d been and the ones we were soon to visit; the first being a mock battle zone for urban combat against the undead, a tourist attraction for the neighboring countries.


    "Yes. And less chaos," was her answer to that.


    "You see some chaos soon enough," was mine.


    She had a similar reaction to the demo yards around us and much the same in the defensive driving courses snaking between Charrlagith and the capital of Nuven Bemarra, now a more than prosperous port city of industry than ever before.


    Her interest seemed more in me and the Warp Points I was placing everywhere, however. Not that she even tried to understand how they worked. It was like I was a show to her. A performance interrupted by the sheer indifference shown to her by the locals.


    They were thriving under the Glutton''s guidance from the shadows. They called Zaraxus King and referred to the holy undead in the frozen world above as Lords, often paradoxically describing them as indifferent but fair when asked. It was an enigma to her, the surface dwellers and their agreement with their undead overlords. Many products made by undead hands were sold to the citizens at low costs. Their profits were sent right back to the people as a stipend or basic allowance, divided equally among all residents. A fraction was reserved for international trading or to use Ed''s transport network to explore surrounding lands. A positive feedback loop Aufa couldn''t see the value of. One she wouldn''t see the merit of. Not when she''d been raised to believe chaos and manipulation were the only ways to triumph.


    Just like Etan said. Soon, though, she would find another way. She, her brothers, and many more drow of Zimysta Falls.

 383 - Open Mouth

    High Priestess Nym Za''Darmondiel.


    1st Daughter of the High Matron''s 2nd Daughter, High Priestess Yela Za''Darmondiel.


    9th of Quartutus, 1492.


    22:17.


    ***


    The High Matron telling us to gain intelligence regarding Elg-Horr''s troupe was not what bothered me. In any time or era, I would have jumped at the slightest chance of being a part of the greatest moment of elven history since the Rending. My problem came from our High Matron instructing me to talk to the dirty elf above all the others. I would have preferred the goblin, and yet death by a thousand cuts would have been preferable to displeasing High Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel. As stalactites fall, my younger siblings and my children would have preferred death by a million bites before even thinking of displeasing me.


    With all my ramblings, though, I still saw the High Matron''s wisdom. And so, while my bumbling brothers approached the little girl, I gave a silent prayer. Then gave more words of praise to our Goddess once my eyes burned red, pitting the mundane chamber in a field of black, speckled and spotted with gold amongst a gaseous web of violet. It all poured off of this little elf girl. Twilight, it was called. That energy of light and darkness in tandem was used by the cunning Felipian meditating in the distant chambers. Hers, however, was purely divine, and it was not given to her by her clerical class. Such was the case for all of them and their dissimilar abilities. They were all divine. Demigods or higher; some, wickedly so. But only she and the¡­ machine woman were this potent.


    Where Ilar''s little Aufa failed to learn of Elg-Horr''s guild from the omni-elemental monk and of Iris, I would succeed in learning more of this twilight. That was no matter of belief. It was a simple truth. Ironically so, for it was the truth that would get us what we wanted; the High Matron, and by extension I understood that well enough.


    "Little Aufa seems to have stricken a nerve with Lady Iris. She is young. Hardly older than yourself, being at the dawn of her second decade. Next year will mark the dawn of my third century. So, unlike her, I shall come to you with candor. What makes you and her different from the rest of his troupe?"


    She turned to me, smiling and humming as if she were singing in the woods. Or so I first thought until I heard the dreary mood of her song and, more, saw her delightfully unsettling visage. Wrapped in a feathered robe and cowl, she sat in a dignified, almost matronly manner. Yet her head was anything but. Her hair was entangled with braids, feathers, leaves, and other such nonsense. Her skin was tan like the forest elves, yet gaunt and textured somewhat like polished ceramic along the brow, neck, and cheekbones, allowing her blackened veins to show through.


    "Oh, don''t mind Iris." She hummed creepily. "She woke up on the wrong side of the bed, as they say. A lot is going on in her mind. It isn''t personal."


    "I assure you, I do not care. My interest is in you, Reina Featherfall."


    "Oh, I''ll tell you all about myself, High Priestess Nym!" She turned to face me fully, smiling bright and wide with a sickening radiance. "I''m the undying survivor of the Redagh''s Feathered Grove. I''m sure you''ve heard about the Blighted Woods?"


    "Created by the Raven Reaper herself." I nodded, ignoring her use of my name and title.


    "Yes!" She giggled creepily. "I ventured there often as a little girl. It¡­ cursed me, or whatever. But not before Amun''s presence caused the druids to panic. My grove was one of those who was so afraid of what he would bring that they went mad!" She giggled again. "So, with my curse, the head druid banished me. I cursed them as I went. The Head Druid. My parents. The entire grove. That was enough for my lovely parents to hunt me down the next morning."


    It was music to my ears. "And you surface elves are said to be peaceful."


    "Mmm." She nodded, humming as if she fully agreed. "They''re right over there!" Pointing over her shoulder, she brought my eyes to two beings of pure darkness and arcana standing on either side of a zombie brimming with holy energy; all reacting as any other surface elves would, sneering at me in fearful contempt; and at Reina with disgusted disapproval.


    "Magnificent!" I snarled in delight. "You and your progenitors are to haunt each other until the end of your undying days. It is the perfect curse for you! I knew the Destroyer would not disappoint. Being the night devil that he is, his tales of goodness floating above could have only been a mask for his wickedness. And he is wicked, indeed."


    "Mhm." She hummed in agreement. "My father, there, wrapped a rope around me while my mother egged him on. The other end was tied to a tree, and, and I was pushed over the edge, but I didn''t hang. My momentum swung me into the cliff side, and then the rope snapped. The fall killed me. But that was after I made my pact." She said with a wicked grin. "I awoke to find a parliament of owls had captured the druids. It was the happiest moment of my life, killing you." She smiled at the eleven man of darkness.


    Ashamed, her father turned away from his putrid gaze while his slate fingers rubbed the glowing scar on his throat.


    "I went on to kill every man, woman, child, and elder in the forest before I killed the head druid and claimed the relics of the Feathered Grove." She gestured to the feathered cowl enveloping her. "I saved my dearest mother for last, then set the grove aflame before leaving. Yet, I stopped at the borders to dance and laugh and sing in ritual; and therein I learned of my blessed pact. Twilight is the power of duality, you see. So, as my druid craft was blessed to purify nature." She said, spawning violet brambles to wrap around her fingers and bloom into pestilent warts and lesions. "So too has it been cursed to corrupt life."


    "Do these¡­ spread disease?" My little sister, Priestess Shaenya, rightly asked.


    "They can with my magic." Reina carelessly shrugged. "This particular one does not."


    "Then what is the point?"


    "To process flesh." The druid cheerfully smiled. "I am the Flesh Mother, after all. I manufacture life."


    "You manufacture creatures? Explain." I demanded.


    "Oh, well, when I left Redagh, I met Amun and went to his realm for¡­ what, two or three years? It was only a few days for you all, though."


    "You''re saying the Destroyer has aged two years in his absence?"


    "Oh, he''s aged much longer; mentally. At least seven, raising Iris, but he taught us all his secrets." She said with shrewd smugness. "He taught me the origins of life born outside the divine trees and how to tinker with it. I learned how to manipulate the genes of living creatures and to create new ones, and now that I have my affinities." She chuckled. "Well, I can give life to anything."


    "Explain," I demanded, waving some slaves forward. "Give us a demonstration."


    Ever eager to avoid pain, an ogre came rumbling forward to meet a burst of sickly gray arcane energy launched from the elf''s finger. The bullet slammed into the beast hard enough to force it back a step. Yet instead of getting angry as the simple creatures often would, it looked to me pleadingly before it clutched its stomach and slumped to its knees, convulsing in a pile of its lost bile, bladder, and bowels.


    "My disease magic can create any disease I can think of or manipulate any existing disease. That was a little stomach virus made more potent than it should be. But worry not! It will not spread." As if to prove her point, she swept her hand toward the ogre and her arcana drifted down like a blanket, spawning a carpet of violet moss that crept toward the ogre''s seeping stool, wanting. Like rock being overtaken by mycelium or some organic slime, the moss swept over the stool to encompass them wholly. Writhing, the moss congealed into roots that burrowed, while the violet stems and leaves compressed into stalks, grew into vibrant flowers, and eventually bore fruits of violet, orange, and golden hues; disappearing the filth entirely, replacing it with an eldritch tree, small and stout.


    The plants withered into dust as their fruits were plucked by Reina''s hand. Leaving, in the end, what amounted to something like soot covering the backside of the unmoving creature.


    "Would you like some?" She then asked, halfway into biting one of the exotic pieces.


    I looked at the 1st son, Sid, at once. Being fully aware of what was coming, he took the fruit without so much as looking at me. Yet it was done with an audacious sigh that would surely be punished later. His demeanor seemed to change after biting into the flesh, however. He recoiled in a way that suggested pleasant surprise and nearly lost his manners in feasting on it. It was enough of a display to make Shaenya contemplate eating one. I, however, would not be eating something born from ogre stool.


    "Oh, wow!" He laughed dumbly. "That''s nice."


    "Right!" Reina sighed. "It''s like burnbud, kind of."


    "Yes, yes. We all know the Destroyer loves the stuff." I rolled my eyes. "It is natural for you all to as well, I suppose. That aside, this is the purity you spoke of?"


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    "Mhm." She nodded, waving again to release darker brambles that attacked the ogre itself; digging into the flesh to release a pestilential ooze inside its innards akin to a spider''s fangs. As it poured out of the many lesions created by the plagued roots, the discharge crystallized and simultaneously condensed into petrified wood. Forming, in the end, a large stump with black grains and crimson crystals speckled with gold.


    "This is the other half of my druid craft. Yet, I also have an affinity for floral mana." She continued, casting vibrant green mana into some nearby roots. Yet, the result was no different from the work of any druid. The roots detached from the wall as if they had a mind for themselves, growing and splitting to form an elegant table with moss-padded chairs whilst other roots wound around the trunk of petrified crystals to pull it closer to our gathering.


    What came next, however, was far more intriguing.


    The same energy was gathered in her hand and left to flow over her palm like a sea of green spores. Or, truer to the result, seeds. They bloomed into a ring of deep blue flowers that output a fog of magical darkness around us, obscuring the rest of the Halls. "On natural plants, this magic can let me mold their shape into any I wish. But they can only function as they naturally would. The plants I create, however¡­"


    As she paused, a bulbous flower of a vibrant orange color bloomed atop her palm and unfurled its midnight leaves. As if an ancient dragon was inhaling, the surrounding darkness funneled into the creation, causing its gilded bulb to glow ever brighter and eventually thrum with energy. A silent pulse released an illuminated beam of arcane darkness that burrowed through a nearby stalagmite as easily as adamantine through steel and disappeared the rubble to the abyssal darkness; leaving nothing but the crashing whispers of what once was.


    "They can be used for anything." Reina finished her words with a childish giggle. Then bent low amongst the crushed corpses of fallen slaves to retrieve a curiously large fallen stone, around the size of her head. "While they help, these affinities are not what allow me to create life, though. They are... enhancers." She eerily said, infusing mana of a golden-red hue into the stone before setting it gently on the table.


    Such strength.


    I was just beginning to inquire further when the stone suddenly moved on its own. A subtle motion. A hardly perceptible swell. Then, not a second later, it deflated. Then another swell. Almost as if¡­ "The rock breathes."


    "Life Magic." She proudly proclaimed. And rightly so. To be a cleric of a life deity was one thing. To have an affinity for life was... unprecedented. If. If not with limitations, I would come to learn once she cast the same magic upon a nearby minotaur corpse.


    Nothing happened. It did not heal it. It was not reanimated with necromancy or returned to life through some other means, yet it stood to open its eyes, senseless and lacking in intelligence. Like a webbed feral beast. A puppet without a soul.


    "Animation." I openly surmised. "Things are made to move themselves with your magic. Be they dead or alive."


    "Mmm." Reina so charmingly confirmed. "It doesn''t work on living things, and the magic doesn''t grant dead things a soul, so when they die, they die. No afterlife. Wisdom and intellect are proportional to the amount of mana used. However." She grinned slyly whilst infusing more life into the stone. "When merged with my final affinity, it yields quite the interesting creation."


    Her final words saw a stream of deeper, crimson mana fall into the stone. Seemingly to no effect for several seconds until the stone began vibrating. Then rumbling. Then shifting and cracking along its surface as an acute ridge stretched it''s face, with two depressions bisected by a vertical ridge, with large concentric circles etched within.


    I stared, bemused until the circles suddenly shifted to me, wherein I understood. "The rock sees."


    More rumbling ensued as the rock formed two more ridges along its bottom length, separated by a deep vale that eventually formed a rumbling chasm that rattled the surrounding chamber with a grating tremor. "Well, what the Hells ya starin'' at?"


    I could only blink rapidly in response. Meanwhile, Sid, Reina, and even Shaenya were suffering from the effect of those fruits. Giggling madly, they cupped their mouths and stared wide-eyed at the creation. Leaving me as the only one with the senses to state the obvious. "The rock speaks."


    "I ain''t no mother fucking rock! I''m a boulder, bitch!"


    "How would you like to be a pebble?" I sneered.


    "O- oh! Okay!" the rock recoiled, then turned to face Reina. "Hey, Mama! Give me some more o'' that muscle so I can burst this broad''s head open!"


    Smiling, Reina picked the rock up and held its shoulder-width mass over her face as one would a fine gem or the head of their enemy. "How about you become something other than a boulder? Like¡­ a statue?"


    "Hows'' bout a hammer!" The rock growled. To which Reina seemed reluctant.


    "Well, I don''t use hammers, so..."


    "Well, make someone that does!"


    "Oh, that''s a great idea!" she bounced excitedly in place, turning to us. "Would you like a tour of the Flesh Kitchen? I''ve never had guests before. This is all so exciting!"


    "That sounds fuckin''¡­ disturbingly wicked. Hells yeah."


    "Silence!" I hissed to the second son, Javrith, before turning back to the druid. "We shall follow you."


    "Oh, how lovely!" She bounced again, this time on her way to the crystal stump to lower her hands to hover above the ground.


    What I half-suspected came to be. Flowers of some sort encompassed us to transport us to wherever this kitchen was. Only, I assumed it to be a simple means of teleportation to take us somewhere far. What happened was a ring of brambles grew from the floor, surrounding us in a cage that was filled with flowers pitched blacker than the blackest night. With prayer, I tracked my position across the realms. Only to find we had moved to a strange, snaking tunnel just beneath the surface above. Eager to sense this new environment that was so close to our home, I opened my senses as the leaves and brambles of our cage dispersed. Regretfully so.


    A warm stench, so pungent it nearly forced me to my knees, wailed against my nose the moment the cage fell. I began to curse and prepare to bleed dry this accursed elf, only to have my ire replaced with morbid curiosity, for below my hand was a polished floor of crimson crystals, crisscrossed with a network of glowing yellow lines that pitched the humid tunnel in a dim ambience. With haste, I craned above to see no stone forming the archways above, only ribs, connected to a spine that extended to my sides for leagues.


    With unyielding mirth, Reina explained her flesh-borne magic whilst giving us a tour of her similarly aligned factory; first by depositing both her crystal and the minotaur into a succession of pits that stripped their hair, skin, fat, and muscle whilst decoding some type of cipher to learn each physical trait of those sacrificed. Then we were led through the long tunnel, listening to the intricacies of her abilities.


    Like her other magics, Flesh Magic had its limitations. Namely, that it could not work on the body of a live specimen. It could, however, remold dead flesh, including hers, as Reina saw fit; changing it at the ''genetic level'' or manipulating blood, organs, and bone into the structures we saw in her factories, or into shields, armor, or weapons. So too could the mana create various types of flesh. Sinew. Fat. Muscle. Brains. Whatever she needed, tailored to fit whatever situation. Though, she described it to be, ''cost prohibitive.'' Instead, she used this factory to gather flesh en masse to use her magic efficiently, altering vast quantities of flesh to create new life forms tailored for peak efficiency; or to adapt herself and her subordinates to their goals and their environments.


    The end of her tour led us to a place that could have only been described as a scrying chamber. Inside was a woman sitting atop a throne of yellowed bone, her focus trained on a membrane lining the wall before her while she attempted to twist, tug, and release her hands from the grotesquely large lips on her armrests.


    Calling her Delilah, Reina summoned the woman off her seat for an introduction, bringing me to the strangest creature I''ve witnessed in my nearly three centuries of living. She was small, yet solidly built. A build that would have suggested a mix of halfling and dwarf were it not for the metallic scales covering her frame. More like a strange birded lizard, was she, for long feathers trailed off her hag-like arms and sharp fangs protruded from her somewhat beaked maw, yet there was no tail on her backside. Her hands and feet were certainly molded like claws and talons, yet any sharp endings were either missing or retractable. Her scales were feathered and furred along the neck and back and seemed to be powdered in gold dust. Yet¡­ somehow, she was not unnerving.


    "Welcome to our Gumba." She bowed politely.


    "Gumba?" I asked, looking at Reina.


    "It''s an acronym. Each letter means something." She answered. "Gestated, Undying, Modular Bioorganic Assembler. I''ll show you. Delilah?"


    "Yes, Mother?"


    "I''ve foraged an ogre, a minotaur, and many goblins, so we''ll be making a King today."


    Hesitantly, I took a seat. But readily, I watched and listened to Reina tell this creature what capabilities she wished to see in this... king. In a way; it was like listening to child dreaming of creatures they''d use to torment their enemies. The ''Frame'' of a minotaur with a¡­ ''Sp7. Type, Osseous Ore mutation;'' whatever that meant. The ''Mind'' of a half-elf merged with a minotaur''s disposition. ''Peripherals'' made from elven nerves, further polluted with the tactile senses of both deep gnomes and gray dwarves. ''Drives,'' comprising an ogre''s musculature and a minotaur''s organs. She wanted the Arms to be mutated with that ''Osseous Ore,'' tailored to be secreted from the horns, forearms, groin, and forelegs. "Like chitinous armor." She described. "And a bull tail with a poisoned barb hidden beneath the hair."


    It only grew more ridiculous as she went on. ''Supplements'' comprising cloven hooves taken from mountain goats. A double coat of fur mixed with the traits of otter and bison. Short and thick enough on the inside to repel water and long enough on the outside to keep warm. Yet capable of shedding at a moment''s notice in hotter environments. I thought it all to be a crass joke, and yet, this Delilah was working diligently atop her throne; her focus trained on the wide membrane before her while her arms twisted, tugged, and pushed those disgusting things sucking on her hands.


    With a prayer to Lilith, Most High, I stepped closer, moving to stand beside her throne and gaze upon her works in bewilderment, for I saw an illusory image of what this creature would look like and could not imagine it coming to be.


    Once her movements were spent and the Kitchen went into motion, the membrane showed me not some creature being assembled piece by piece. It showed a bulbous sack- a womb filling with a viscous clear fluid and a small something being deposited inside before the membrane self-sealed and was taken by a claw of wood and stone. Up and around the little egg went, chased by whatever thing granted us this scrying view until it came to rest in some sort of fleshy cradle. Only then did our view expand to see a crystal stalactite peering over the tiny egg. Black but reflecting an endless shower of colors, even while a hundred ghostly visages swirled in anguish within its facets.


    "Deep Opal." I recognized both the makeup and energy within at once. "Filled with... souls."


    "Partially correct." Reina charmingly said. "It''s wicked. Devil''s Opal. Only fiends and undead can use it without going mad, hehe! This is what I was given to give my children souls." She said airily, then gave a final nod to her creature, Delilah.


    She announced all she was doing. Though it made little sense, I knew what a catalyst was, albeit not in this context. Once it had been loaded, however, the ''Soul Infusion'' was complete. That made sense. The coinciding image of the same minotaur that had been crushed did not, but only because I refused to believe it. The words, ''Loading Memetic Profile'' caught my attention next, however. They made not a hint of sense. Although ''War College'' did. ''Memory Format'' was another unknown. But like every other thing, its completion was announced, and none came after. No, what came after was an array of venous conduits. Many approached to encompass the egg. Others penetrated it to line the inside walls and connect themselves to that small ''something'' contained inside. A little something that, as the seconds passed to minutes and on to hours, grew and grew and grew before our eyes.

 384 - Celebrity of Soul

    High Priestess Yaska Za''Darmondiel.


    1st Daughter of the High Matron''s 1st Daughter, High Priestess Nadra Za''Darmondiel.


    10th of Quartutus, 1492.


    01:39.


    ***


    I must admit my reaction was a bit over the top when Ryda came down from Nydorden Halls to approach me, chattering about some human monk''s weapon. I cared little for monks. I cared not for humans. The weapons they used were no different, even if they were crafted by Elg-Horr. A sentient weapon, on the other hand, was entirely different. They were exceptionally rare. Often only uncovered as relics from times long forgotten. Yet, Elg-Horr not only created one before his ascension. He gave it away; to a human.


    Now that he had evolved and ascended, Elg-Horr''s divine work could be seen everywhere. Reports came slowly, initially. First, it was houses and estates floating high above the mainland. Next came tales of carriages and wagons that could cross the country in mere hours, followed by colossal machines that could do the work of a hundred slaves while being handled by one. Then, he was made to walk. Then, he lived true to the title we gave him. Cities fell by his hand. Refugees were left to fend for themselves in the wilds while the dead occupied their former homes, wherein they too delved into the act of creation. More weapons. More machines. More carriages and wagons. More roads, houses, and estates.


    More cities, populated by his undead.


    Perhaps that was his master plan all along. To give such a display and depart to gather his Troupe, leaving us with nothing but those industrious undead to gaze on as we waited in frustration, anticipating the day he returned so we could come to an understanding about what we heard and saw; only to have our attention stolen by this eccentric troupe. Therein lay an opportunity, however, for if his undead were so industrious, his troupe would be as well.


    So much was already determined to be true. Iris, the adopted daughter, went to each city to emplace arcane teleportation points disguised as road posts around the lands before she infected every city with her blue essence. Blude and her quite impressive organization of rogues relocated to Shujen Bay, reportedly to construct a submerged city. Yet, with everything going on above, Nydorden Halls was the most lively place of all.


    This¡­ Elven Devil''s Troupe was treating the place like their home. Geri was nowhere to be seen. Yet her wolves could be seen scouring every nook and cranny of the Halls. Her brute of a brother raised a tent a few ways away from the chambers. After going inside, he hasn''t been seen since. Yet many strange sounds could be heard from within. Laughing, fighting, talking; and none of those things in his voice.


    The fiends, however, took it to another extreme. The only one to not be found was the elven girl, for she took Nym, Sid, and Shaenya to some place where any of them would not be missed. But even then, the abilities she showed them became the height of discussion among the House''s clergy, for the House would benefit much from the forsaken Mala and her children being sacrificed to the¡­ Flesh Kitchen. Likewise, the strange goblin went around collecting bones to bring next to the brute''s tent. Wherein he showcased a level of prowess never before seen in goblin-kin. He made a finely built abode for himself, complete with a fence and balcony, and proceeded to test the lingering monastic undead raised by his god while the goblin slaves of Nydorden crowded him. The young human male, on the other hand, walked on the wall as if he was blessed by the spider to spread a large carpet. On which he organized tables and alchemical equipment pulled from some type of dimensional storage in his sleeves and tinkered away silently without end.


    Despite the range of skill displayed among them, none of those named were the object of my interest. That belonged to the smallest member in stature and the largest member in poise. Elg-Horr''s Bard. Bards loved talking almost as much as devils. Whether about themselves or something else was up to the individual. But that was an undebatable truth.


    For the first few days, I had the 1st and 2nd sons follow her and her sourceless music while she followed Elg-Horr, eating every mushroom and root that met her eyes. It took them a while to learn the sound came from her very body. Assumedly an enchantment, but I knew otherwise. There was more to her than mere enchantments, curses, or even divine blessings. Thus, a test was required.


    The opportunity came soon after, when she pitched her tent in front of the chamber containing the monk and his sentient weapon. I sent something after her to test her strength. Something her size but formidable. A gray dwarf. Unarmed but dangerous to her kind all the same. Doubly so when it used its innate powers to double his size to that of a human.


    Despite that, the little halfling knelt to grab a stone larger than her head, effortlessly prying it from the ground to hurl it at the gray dwarf''s leg. It launched with a crack and whistled through the air to smash the side of his knee with a resounding echo, sending him reeling down to clutch at his wound. Close enough for his ear to be snatched and pulled to the grinning visage of Rickley Ravenbrook.


    With her inhaling, I thought she would scream. However, a metal funnel appeared between her lips while she paused and when she exhaled, a great blazing fluid poured into the gray dwarf''s mouth. Red hot like magma, it seemed to force its way down his gullet like a burrowing serpent to char his insides, leaving him gurgling and clutching at his smoldering neck as he fell to the ground.


    As he fell, the little halfling bent low to grab the dwarf by the ankle, then easily dragged him back to her little encampment, singing. "I can''t wait to hear your secrets."


    While much smaller than the bestial man''s tent, Rickley''s was fenced and lined on the inside with all manner of exotic items. Caskets, coffins, urns, and small obelisks were arranged around a massive ceremonial bowl standing atop an open chamber- none of which we knew the purpose of until she heaved the charred dwarf into the bowl.


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    A violet conflagration ignited the moment the dwarf found his rest, abnormally burning his remains into ash and charred bone that crept its way to the bowl''s brim. As it went, Rickley''s attention turned to the items scattered about until she settled on an urn that she promptly covered in a field of mana. Materials were fed into the field, where the artificer''s perks remolded them into etchings, carvings, inlays, and painted motifs; spurred along by the delightfully dreadful tune echoing around us. The music seemed to affect more than just her work speed, however, as the eldritch fires seemed to burn hotter with each note. It screamed when the small bard placed the urn in the chamber beneath the bowl. Squealed and howled with the ferocious futility born of a dying beast before puttering out in a baleful hiss.


    When that hiss was spent, a violet arcane light glowed from the bow''s sigils, increasing in intensity until the very ashes adopted the same hue. Then it died. Then the ashes fell, funneled through a small hole in the basin to settle into the urn.


    As Rickley went to retrieve it, a voice echoed, seemingly from all directions. "Well, don''t just stand there. Come, take a look."


    I motioned to my lessors. Sorn took the lead, approaching the strange urn with unbounded curiosity to state the obvious. "It reeks of necromancy."


    "Yeah, it''s an undead urn." She said proudly, setting the piece down at her feet before infusing power into her voice to incant, "Sing!"


    Before my brow could raise, the urn began disintegrating before my eyes. Upon dispersing into a cloud of dust, however, the grains began to shift and reform on the ground. Forming first feet, then legs, and eventually a charred dwarven body with veins of magma spread across his skin.


    "How did you speak to us just now?" I asked.


    "How? Because I''m Rickley fuckin'' Ravenbrook." She elegantly bowed. "Soul Celebrity. Undying Fiend. Among other things."


    "You... spoke to our souls?" I asked, hoping my shock was expertly hidden by my apparent interest in this undead creature. To so easily be able to touch what was owned by our Goddess, Most High, was... "I take it then this dwarf is now a sentient urn?"


    "No. He''s an Ashen Urn." Rickley corrected, gesturing to the creature. In turn, he closed his eyes and disintegrated once again. This time reforming into an otherwise ordinary urn of black stone. "Ashen. See." She grinned, then bent low to pick it up and show us the scalding ash filling the inside. "His ash was imbued with necromancy, while his soul was sealed in the urn''s clay. Then I used my song to fuse them. The urn is his spirit and soul. The ash, his mind and body.


    "I''m thinking of making him a drummer, I dunno."


    "You told him to sing. Have him sing," I told her. "Any dwarf can chant and sing far better than they thrum and drum, after all."


    "Thanks for the tip." She smiled at me after setting the jar down. Then suddenly looked toward the chamber behind her and laughed. "I wouldn''t be bothering you if you''d hurry up."


    "You speak to the sentient weapon." I pointed out.


    She nodded. "I do."


    "Have you seen it?"


    "No, but I''ve been talking to him. Ma''Kruael. He''s a gray soul. Amun took one soul he used to rage and merged it with another soul that was used as a mortal shield. Once it was put inside a weapon, it chose that human as its master."


    "Rage?" Sorn, being a senior monk, laughed incredulously. "Amun? Raging?"


    "He is not without anger. He just... contains it. Unhealthily so." She answered, not looking away from the distant chambers in a way that detracted from her words. But I noticed it. The warning in her tone. The threat that had not been stated.


    "I see you trust him entirely." Rickley continued. "Yet you are unfair to him."


    "Who are you-" Ryda started, yet the halfling continued.


    "How? I can see what you gain from those who receive your ''mercy.'' You return nothing to him. You don''t even use the breadth of your power. Yet he gives all to you."


    The fools, Sorn and Nijal, exchanged incredulous looks with each other. The imbeciles most likely thought her mad despite their knowledge of her ability and the weapon of the one inside the chamber. But I could see clearly the web she was weaving.


    "Hah!" she laughed again a moment later. "He is not ready? If he was not ready, he would not be your master. He is on the precipice. Unable to pass because his other half holds him back. That''s why you''re talking to me and not focusing on him. Because he is worthy, and you are not."


    A gust of air pulled our attention to the chamber just as it exploded, pulling all nearby crimson eyes to the broken doors behind us. Within was a human with skin like light leather and a long braid of black hair trailing around him as he floated in a meditative position before his coveted weapon. Yet, it was different. Once a pair of sticks connected by a phantom chain, one stick had condensed to form a ball and chain, and a moment later, elongated into a chain and sickle before reverting to its regular form. Only to shorten the phantom chain until the two rods connected to form a staff and break apart moments later to return to its usual form.


    Reaching out, Rua took the weapon in hand, eliciting a pulse of gray ethereal fire that saw the weapon dissipate and reform as a beaded bracelet. Upon emerging, Rua turned to Rickley. In turn, she began tapping at the strange box hanging from her neck, causing a creeping crawl of strings to resound to the tune of her taps, rising in tempo until the monk stood before her and halted the dramatic sound.


    "You have my thanks." He bowed, clasping his hands over his chest before rising with a smile. "I have never seen him angry before. It was quite amusing."


    "Just doing my job. Although, I''ve been wanting to meet him." Rickley waved off his bow. "Never would''ve thought he''d be such a little prick, though."


    The monk let out a boisterous laugh until I ribbed Nijal to probe him into moving things along. Then I moved to his chamber to catch a glimpse of it before it cascaded into his tower. It was a mundane pond that would suddenly erupt in chaotic bursts, splashing me with unnaturally tepid water every so often. I knew not how that was supposed to represent mercy or how one was supposed to meditate in there, nor did I care. I was beyond ready for this period of waiting and meditation to be over and done with.


    Thankfully, as I turned, I saw the other chambers had opened some time ago. And while they had since been assimilated into towers, their proctors had documented them well enough.


    The cat''s chamber was filled with magical darkness, yet limned in a golden light. Around him was a domain of glowing motes, shining in all manner of reds, purples, and golds. Impressive, no doubt, but it was the last human who had a far more interesting chamber. Peter''s chamber held totems for each element that were reported to have multiplied and mixed, first becoming dust, mud, and lava before totems for combustion, mist, and steam formed. Earth ki then fused with itself to make a mass of crystal and metal. Likewise, air fused with itself to form a crackling sphere of lighting and what appeared to be fire, yet I could not believe it so, for fire ki combined with itself to form a pinpoint so bright it nearly made every drow present scream in enraged anguish.


    None did, however, for the monks and clerics were acclimatized to the light, and the rest were shielded by the fusion of water ki with itself. A pearl of liquid so dark it seemed to be darkness itself.


    "Oh! Come on, Durn!"


    I turned in time to see Rickley running toward Amun''s chamber, her strange dwarven undead wobbling behind her.


    ''At last.'' I and probably everyone else thought. Only to have our mirth immediately stolen once Rickley, the goblin, the young human male, and the elf trailed after the countless monastic undead racing to seal themselves inside Amun''s chamber, leaving those ''undying fiends'' sitting before it as if to stand guard.

 385 - Eternal Enemies

    High Matron Etyl of House Za''Darmondiel.


    24th of Quartutus, 1492.


    3:33 AM.


    ***


    Of all the work done by my children and their spawn, there were many successes, yet only one failure. A fact that made matters worse, for little Aufa failed to get information on the one thing that truly mattered to me; and not only did she fail, she developed an obsession with those machines and, of all things, enchantments. To make matters worse, she was not the only one. Nym''s fixation on twilight deepened upon learning of the surface elf''s corruptive nature. As did Yaska, upon learning of the halfling''s ability to so easily converse with souls and create as-of-yet unseen undead. The difference was; those abilities were of use to us.


    Speaking directly to souls would allow us to bypass the psionic blockers that naturally arose from the astral monks'' ki. Creating custom minions from the corpses of our enemies would benefit us in every way. Iris'' eldritch body aside, the machines described on the surface were no different from those used by the dwarves around us. Loud, uncouth behemoths of metal and wood built to do a single task in perpetuity. For that, there were much better alternatives. Mana Crafting. Arcane Constructs. Males. Slaves. On the contrary, some things had the potential to be detrimental to us, if approached incorrectly. A divine empire with lands above the skies. A guild with many subguilds of so-called ''explorers,'' composed entirely of seemingly meek demigods. An entire pantheon of Eternal-born deities amid development.


    I saw to it that Ilar corrected her fourth daughter''s mistake without error. Still an infant, Aufa was, like my Eban, Etan, Raki, and Ruel; not to mention Elg-Horr. It was important that children be properly educated, for they- especially these few- were the future of all drow; and the future of all drow was the future of the Mortal Plane.


    Ten days were needed for such an endeavor, for in her centuries of practice, that was how much time the Abbot of these halls estimated Elg-Horr would need to reach the next step. Ilar and Ruel preceded my arrival. If not to verify the Abbot''s claims, then to attempt one last time to right Aufa''s wrong.


    A foolhardy endeavor in both regards.


    I felt it long before I arrived. A wicked cold crept through every defense in my armor and skin alike. Around my bones, it crawled, hissing foul threats to my soul as my steps endlessly echoed off the dank stones. Never before had I felt so close to something so foul. In that timeless moment, I felt as if I were waltzing before the maw of the most baleful creature in existence without my senses, and with no control of my body.


    Outside its lair were creatures seen as both good and evil through the eyes of divination. More celestial wolves, more divine rogues, more machine men, and yet more undead; shadows and fiends alike, chanting and drumming to the praise of their sovereign, emerging beyond the threshold of a macabre chamber of black stone and deep shadows. Inside was the Destroyer himself, more emaciated than he''d ever been before. It was as if he''d been sealed in this chamber to undergo mummification, which was entirely plausible. His stomach was like a concave edifice carved beneath the overhang of his ribs, which huffed and heaved as easily as they would any other time. His skin was dryer than dry and yet gleaming with the sweat of intense focus; wrinkled by decay and yet kept smooth by his ki. The only thing that made him different from a mummy was the lack of jewelry and wrappings enveloping his body, other than the ones around his hands and feet.


    It was the most dreadfully delightful thing I''d ever witnessed. In an instant, gone were the frustrations of my granddaughter''s misdeeds. Replaced, they were, with visions of a crumbling Nydorden Halls and my Zimysta Falls wreathed in dark fire; visions of House Za''Darmondiel''s males becoming monks of the vibrant night sky; visions of wickedness befalling those who loved the spider. Visions of a heart of darkness.


    Therein brought about a quicker instance of my visions being replaced with a crimson wrath; for if my dear granddaughter had done her duty, those visions would have been complete with sights of drow guilds and clerics and druids spread across the Darkworld of every realm.


    Yet again, that was replaced in a quicker instance once I met the Elven Devil''s eyes and realized the true nature of that awe had sprouted from fear. I felt ashamed, and that shame bore unbridled hatred for the one to spawn it.


    I was a High Matron of House Za''Darmondiel, the eldest house of all the realms. I was she who unleashed drow on Nonus in Her name, yet I feared a child! A half-breed male child! It was an unthinkable prospect. Yet my wisdom permitted me to peer through the crimson veil of Lilith''s rage and understand why that was such, and it was only by Lilith''s infinite grace that I understood how it was of benefit to us.


    The answer had been beneath our blades from the start. So it was still as of this moment. The Bakewian sky was the first sign. The human children standing beside him when he first appeared were the second. The result of his walk was the third. The fourth was the tales of a divine miracle that began spreading just days before he arrived with these individuals, so eclectic, meek, and powerful. The fifth was the tale told by my traitorous first son. Even the stupid grin he gave me while necrotic ki billowed all around him was evidence enough.


    Rather than approach them outright, I clung to the walls, ascending while muttering a silent prayer to connect with the minds of every cleric in the vicinity. "It seems his moniker was more apt than we realized. Both of his aliases are; the one given by the fifth above and by us. The truth is now apparent. The Elven Devil and the Queen Demon Spider cannot coexist. Yet, in her infinite wisdom, Lilith, Most High, knows this to mean he is both the enemy of Drow and our future.


    "Destroyer, he is indeed. Amun is the Destroyer of the weak and meek, the pitiable, and the useless ways of old. The Destroyer of faithless drow. He will not guide us to greatness by capitulating to our great Goddess. He and his legions will be our divine enemy in an eternal war, guiding us to greatness by culling our Goddess''s weakest brood."


    ***


    Abbot Eiriol.


    ***


    It was foreboding, the way the Matrons and Priestesses suddenly shifted in posture. Faces of incredulity were mixed with those of apathy and dread. But only for an instant. Within moments, they shifted to the feral smirks and wicked grins of scheming drow.


    Naturally, Amun, now mummified, paid them no mind. Much to my surprise, however, Etan did the same. Despite being interrogated already, he seemed at ease about returning here to face the same, if not worse, treatment later on. Despite him knowing what awaited him below, he spurred his student onto the next step by pushing away the seemingly ever-growing Troupe to allow a few combatants to fill the space.


    Being at the 14th Step, we expected the students to understand what came next by this point. Like the millions who came before him, Amun met our expectations by leaping into action the moment the floor was cleared.


    Skipping with the Wind, he arrived before a gladiator, crouching low in his ''tiger'' stance to strike at the stomach and chest. His nails thricely raked across the gladiator''s torso before he his image flickered and he disappeared, having sunk to slide through the gladiator''s legs to appear with his knife hand poised at the gladiator''s back.


    A sickening crunch vibrated the hall the moment Amun lunged forward. In turn, the gladiator pulled taut, standing on the tips of his toes while his arms clawed for his bleeding back. Uncaring about his plight, Amun kicked the man forward, separating the gladiator''s spinal column and head from his crumpling body in a symphony of ripping bone and dripping flesh.


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    The ethereal greenish-blue fires of necrotic ki reactively surged into the dangling spine as Amun held it at the ready, causing each vertebra to extend and morph into a bony chain link attached to the chomping skull swaying before him.


    "The [Arms of Death]," Amun said in a much more grim tone than I was used to. "With them, flesh and bone can become martial weapons. In this case." He paused as the chomping head pulled itself up to gaze at us. "A ball and chain."


    Saying such, he ceased the spine and skull''s motion around his body whilst skipping backward, rocketing him into the air, only for him to land in a powerful, tile-cracking stomp. Six loud knocks of flesh against wood echoed as his eldritch ki surged into the cracks at his feet and spread across the floor. Upon crossing the length of the ring, another six knocks pulsated the ki, and it raced along the circumference to fall back on itself, bringing about a final six knocks to fill the space with the abyssal darkness of a family more ancient than ours.


    The remaining gladiators seemed perturbed by the sight. Naturally so. More so, however, they began to glow with the same color as the ''door'' beneath them, creaking open to allow the grim hands of death to hold them in place while Amun and the freshly raised headless corpse went into action.


    The former hooked the ''chain'' around his foot and kicked, sending the chomping skull slamming into the chest of one while the headless corpse flipped and sailed through the air, landing with a kick and a leg sweep before rolling onto the gladiator, grabbing hold of his rags, and rolling backward to kick him into the air in Amun''s direction. Amun met him halfway, darting forward to deliver a spinning kick into the gladiator''s ribs.


    As the gladiator tumbled away, I saw a spectral visage of the same being standing where he''d just been, screaming at the sight of his convulsing corpse while those vile hands pulled his soul into the Abyss.


    "Gained at the Thirteenth Step along with the [Arms of Death,] [Reap the Dead] raises monastic undead in a higher tier. Draugr. Mummies. Revenants. A headless hunter, in this case." Amun said to the silent inquiry once the undead gladiator took its place next to Amun and grabbed its weaponized head and poised it atop his shoulders, throwing snarls and scowls at the unseen eyes above as the spine-whip slinked back into place.


    My heart skipped with morbid pleasure at the sight. Only for the dispersing field of ki to capture my attention once again. "" Amun said


    "Something was pulled under. Was it¡­ his soul?" I asked, gesturing around the now-ordinary pit.


    "Oh, you saw that?" Amun turned, smiling with surprise. "It was. It''s my most recent perk. [Dead Door Knock] marks the souls of those who hear its echoes. If they''re standing within a certain radius, they''re immobilized by Death''s grasping hands. If they''re killed, their souls go to my pit."


    "Your... pit?" I echoed. To which he nodded simply.


    "Yes. My Underworld."


    "Right," I said, nodding Etan forward to train him in the boons granted by forming the ki circuit. A simple task for one of elven blood.


    "First, tell us of any changes to the Spiritual Tongue perk you obtained at the Twelfth Step."


    "The [Tongue of the Cradle and Grave]," Amun said. "It allows me to transcend language between me and all things, both living and dead."


    That was of little surprise. Thus, Etan nodded and raised his hand to release the violet fires of his ki, now tinged with hints of blue and gold. Rather than letting the ethereal energy flicker, however, he condensed and further refined the fires until it formed a blinding sphere in his palm. "And the other perk? Ki Beam," he said, thrusting his palm to send a beam crashing into a nearby goblin.


    The goblin hurtled across the room with a pitiful cry and remained unmoving upon rolling to a halt, its chest singed and mangled beyond recognition. No different from the arcane variant used by even the weakest elves. "You must master this before you reach the next hall, where you will create a Meditation Hall from your focus chamber."


    With only a nod, Amun continued his march. An act that seemed to please every pair of eyes around us.


    Indeed, I too was eager to see Amun spread carnage throughout my Halls. More importantly, I was just as eager as everyone else to stretch my legs once again, at least until the next stint of focused meditation. Still, however, there was no room to complain. It had taken just eight days for Amun to form his first circuit between the 1st and 2nd natural ki ponds. Twice as much, if not more time would be needed to open the 1st and 2nd necrotic ki ponds; and then more to open the 3rd and 4th natural ki ponds and link them into a circuit. At least in theory. This class of monks has been flying down the path just as quickly as Etan had, and naturally, they did not have the close eye of a High Matron spurring them along. Those other monks did not have Amun''s superpowered strength, however. With so much strength stolen from the living, the restraint shown in his movements was all too clear. Yet it was verified by his troupe. Namely, by his adopted daughter and her subordinate monk, Deeke.


    According to her and the equally strange boy, their strength was the reason few of the troupe chose to fight through the Halls. Instead, they displayed their prowess in different ways. Through songs, praise, or the act of creation; through hunting and feasting on the creatures of the underground or raising their cadavers into undead beings. Because of that and the deathly aura crawling ever deeper into the halls, the gladiators and enslaved warriors who called this place home found the most out-of-the-way holes to hide in, but that was fine. The monastic path was one of the few that persisted long after one reached the end. It was a physical journey. However, the mental and spiritual journey of a monk was a lifelong endeavor. Amun had stepped past the need for constant battles with his walk. The challenges here were to ensure he could use his perks properly, and once verified, he had only two aspects to develop: his ponds and his circuit. And yet, Amun seemed to be intent on testing his athleticism by leaping and running through the Hall for hours on end. Aiming, it seemed, to either delay the next phase or put his mark on every surface found within before he landed in front of Etan near the next Hall''s entrance.


    "Contrary to Focus Chambers, Meditation Halls are formed in areas with high natural energy rather than intense mana zones," Etan explained, gesturing around the cavernous complex we entered, filled with a taste of the astral plane, bathed in ki. A sight Amun seemed indifferent to, almost as if he''d seen it before. His Troupe, however, still gazed upon the mushroom forest spread above the mossy meadows with a sense of wonder; uncaring of the countless spiders watching them from within.


    "These so-called Places of Power are the only places monks can open the third ki pond. They are rare, in nature, and can form from any energy outside of mana, be it natural, primal, elemental, or spiritual energy. Similar to Focus Chambers, however, a skilled monk who has learned to meditate in such a place can easily recreate one within their temple using the Glyph of Power.


    "Your task is exactly that. Create your Meditation Hall in the next hall, directly beneath your Focus Chamber, to open your first and second necrotic ki ponds." Etan gestured to the door behind him and turned back to Amun, holding a necklace of beads ranging in size from eyeballs to fists. "As was the case above, you must focus your meditation on these."


    It was a simple practice, in theory. In reality, it required nonstop meditative focus and a mastery of intense ki control. Things Amun had in excess, yet the wait would be long all the same, for he had more steps to make this time around. It was not all for naught, however, for we''d long since streamlined our courses over the Bodhi Tree''s 999 classes, we had a lot to ponder the perk displays he gave us, and he wasted no time entering the shrine as he did any other place, with a great smile akin to a war master gazing upon a captured dwarven treasury. His eyes turned about in every direction, following the flow of the energies down the corkscrewed chasm to the crystal obelisk at its center, yet he remained attentive to his teacher all the same.


    "Welcome to the heart of Nydorden Halls," Etan told him and the other monks of his Troupe; Sam and the strange boy, Deeke, among others. "Such Shrines of Enlightenment are Extreme Mana Zones imbued with both Ki and extra-planar energy. Or, to put it another way, a Place of Power merged with an extreme mana zone. As such, they are only found near extra-planar gates. Natural or otherwise. These shrines are the only places a monk can open the fourth natural ki pond and link them together. As such, those energies will greatly influence the monk in question."


    "Hence our Astral Way," I concluded. "After finding a shrine leading to the Astral Realm, a place where the mind is more powerful than anything. Subconscious thought, emotion, and dreams shapes reality in that realm. I relied on the ancient Youteran records to move down this path. As yours will be, the final step was to build this temple and train monks according to my monastic way. Step Fifteen tasks you with forming a Meditation Hall within a Place of Power. You will skip this task. Instead, you will form your Meditation Hall within this Shrine of Enlightenment, where you will remain, sealed with the Shrine''s energies and your ki until you reach the Seventeenth Step."


    Pausing, I waved over a slave to deliver not beads but a large blank scroll. "Opening your final two ki ponds at the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Steps requires you to travel to the place of your power and meditate within. Doing so will imbue your necrotic ki onto this scroll, inscribing all there is to know about your monastic way, for that is what you will use to teach the Way to Death''s Door to your students." Turning, i faced those other monks of the Elven Devil''s Troupe." I know not where the rest of you will need to go- if you even need to at all, considering your classes of legend." I mused, turning back to Amun. "I imagine you will have to venture to a place of death - your... Underworld."


    "Yes." He nodded. Then stepped off to form his Meditation Hall without another word.

 386 - Living Lichdom

    Abbot Eiriol.


    21st of Quintetas, 1492.


    01:11.


    ***


    27 days.


    Amun took 27 days of unyielding focus to open the 3rd and 4th Ki Ponds and link them into a circuit. Remarkably, for every senior monk in these Halls knew only Etan and, long ago, his father, Two Heart, had achieved such a feat.


    Each meditative cycle required him to empty his ki from his ponds to his beads while constantly gathering more to replace what was lost, purifying and condensing the energy, until they grew to the size of stones and shattered in a great blast of energy; seemingly. Into dust, their surfaces crumbled, reducing the beads to their original size, ready to be expanded again. On the other hand, the released energy was guided under the monk''s focus to pour into their ki ponds, condensing their ki over time.


    Cycle after cycle, the density of ki increased in his Meditation Hall. Each additional cycle saw the volume of ki increase in the Focus Chamber, greatly increasing the flow of energy into Amun to where his ponds overflowed and eventually converged inside his spiritual network.


    It only took 27 long days.


    The time was not all spent waiting, however. The clerics, priestesses, and matrons distanced themselves evermore while the Troupe became more open with each other and me. Even stranger was how they treated this place as if it was their home. Not only did Freki put up a tent in the waiting area, but Sam did too; right next to his and with so much traffic between them, I just had to look.


    Well, rather than going myself, I sent Sorn. I followed when he failed to return after an hour. Inside, I found him feasting on hefty plates set before him by Sam while Freki pulled many ales and wines from seemingly nowhere. Dozens more individuals whom I''d never met were spread all about them, scattered across a grassy field that seemed more vast than even the Halls in which the tent was pitched.


    I pretended I never saw Sorn, for other happenings were happening and my curiosity had been verily piqued. Every member of the Troupe did something throughout that time. Most seemed to scavenge the Halls for various resources. Iris sent her dog of metallic flesh to consume the weapons and gear left by the dead. Reina took the dead into her roots, leaving their trinkets as the only reminder of their existence. The goblin Leary formed towering mounds of bone for some unknown purpose. Rickley and Wilson seemed intent on foraging; one for poisonous mushrooms and the other for alchemical ingredients.


    On the other hand, three were mostly absent throughout that time. While Sam mostly stayed within the Halls, training and cooking; Blude and Redd often went elsewhere. To where was my best guess, as they always fell into some small puddle or pond and disappeared for hours. Sometimes even days. For Geri, it was once a tenday. And while there was at least some indication of Blude''s work coming in from the scouts, they only saw Geri again once she decided to appear in the Halls with a cohort of large canines.


    Uncannily, she reappeared just hours before Amun unceremoniously formed his circuit between the 3rd and 4th natural Ki Ponds and emerged as his mummified self. But the climax had yet to come.


    I was on approach when Amun stepped out of his meditations and withdrew his lair stone. It seemed ordinary, yet he looked at it with trepidation. The memory of his comment when we discussed this step flashed in my mind just before it left his hand, auspiciously widening my eyes just as Amun''s frame shimmered.


    His hidden, most eldritch visage flickered into sight before it was obscured by a deluge of vibrant energy flowing into that tiny stone. Arcana, it appeared to be, rich with the blue-green color of spirit, yet colorless to my spirit. I sensed absolutely nothing. It was only because of my former class that I had the wisdom to understand that the divine worked subtly; in ways that saw the lair stone spread its essence throughout the chamber like any other, but I knew something happened to it; even without Amun muttering. "Fuck."


    It had been reformed into an armband by the time I arrived. Yet Amun was still gazing at it blankly. Choosing not to give the prying eyes what they desired for once, I bowed to Amun in commendation of his efforts, then waited for Etan to resume his instruction.


    "You must have received the first stage of the Transcendental Movement Perk at the Fifteenth Step, as well as the second and third stages at steps Sixteen and Seventeen," Etan stated, raising his leg as if to step up the air itself. As his foot fell, a dense projection of violet ki burst from his foot, releasing with enough precision and power to form a solid surface that allowed him to walk toward the ceiling as if he were climbing stairs.


    "The first stage of Transcendental Movement allows you to do this only once per leap - an ability humans commonly refer to as the double jump." He gestured to his ki on his last steps before allowing the violet cloud to stream from his body, keeping him suspended in the air without the aid of his true self. "The second stage involves walking or standing on your ki as I have just done. Demonstrate your proficiency in this second technique and the third. Flight. Something you are already well versed in."


    I thought Amun would give us a simple show and tell, as he did before. And though he did, it wasn''t without its curiosities. For starters, his brow rose curiously when Etan mentioned flight. Then he turned to jump, failing a few times to ''double jump'' a few meters in the air until Etan approved of his skill. Rather than allowing himself to fall, however, he displayed the second stage of the perk by landing in mid-air and turning to face the several hundred undead he raised with his ki, left behind by the disappearance of his meditation hall. When he bowed to them, they bowed back. When he rose to his full height, they erected their decayed frames. So too did they settle into a relaxed stance just after he did. Standing on the balls of their feet, they mirrored his movements, shuffling their legs before delivering a rapid flurry of punches to the empty air; and in doing so, several hundred necrotic embers ignited in their eyes. A closing bow made those embers burn slightly brighter. Yet they were dim compared to the ethereal fires that soon burned from Amun.


    Blue-green like his arcana, the release of his energy did not wreath his body in the ethereal fires of ki as ours did. It swelled around his form, thickened, and wove itself into a vibrant hooded robe that shrouded his visage in primordial darkness and soundlessly billowed as he swooped and stormed throughout the Halls.


    "Along with the first stage of Transcendental Movement, at Step Fifteen, the Timeless Body Perk that negates the ill effects of aging became the Undying Body Perk. Even while healthy, ki removes the need to eat, drink, or breathe." As for them." Amun paused, landing between us and his undead to seal off his ki. "That came at the Sixteenth Step. Head Undying Monk."


    "I presume that is the source of Ki your undead now have," I stated.


    "That it is!" He cheekily smiled- a grim sight in his mummified state. "It only works on the undead I raise with ki, but I can train them to give them more. As for the Seventeenth Step, the third stage of the Transcendental Movement that usually grants monks'' flight gave me the Reaper''s Robes. However, the Vacant Body Perk that prevents your mind from being read has become the Reaper''s Body. Now that I stand before Death''s Door, my body has been ''infused with the reaper''s essence,'' so I no longer need ki to stay like this." He gestured to his emaciated frame. "Not to mention, only magic, mithral, and adamantine can make me feel pain; although other attacks can still rend my flesh."


    "Similar abilities to both the Necro King and the Raven Reaper." I pointed out. "That is neither here nor there, however. Your time in Nydorden Halls has come to an end. Yet your training is not yet complete. As mentioned before, you must venture to a place infused with the energies of your monastic way to complete the eighteenth and nineteenth steps. Thus, the revelry for your graduation from these Halls will begin now. However, I will ensure you understand this; while you are reaching the end of your monastic path and may reach it in due time, you will find it leads to a vast realm of challenges that are only rewarded in spirit. Akin to struggling to gain admission to a vast city, your journey as a monk has only just begun. What you walk away from these halls possessing are the basics. A foundation of martial arts, on which to build your philosophy as you scour the realms. And eventually, you will build a temple of your own, filled with monks of your necrotic way.


    "And the Mortal Plane shall tremble. More than it already has." I bowed resolutely. "Congratulations, Amun."


    "Thank you, Abbot." Amun bowed, then delayed the festivities with a raised palm. Others were already in motion, however. Freki procured a mountain of food from seemingly nowhere and had the lot of it hauled over to Sam as others played music, pulled blankets and chairs from dimensional storages, or outright departed.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    "Before that," Amun said, ignoring them. "I have some more training I need to do."


    "More training?" I asked incredulously.


    "Yes." He sighed. "I''ve been on Death''s Door for a while- since the Fourteenth Step, knocking away but He won''t open it. I assume He will now, but I''m not ready." Pausing, he conjured a field of obstacles that seemed to come out of a dungeon delver''s worst nightmare. "I''m sure you know this, but there are hidden perks in the martial classes."


    "Physical ability mutations." I nodded in understanding. "No wonder you spent so much time frolicking about the Halls. Because of your way, you have nothing to improve on but your agility and dexterity. Very well. Do as you wish."


    Though I simultaneously had no reason and every reason for the proud melancholy I soon felt, I could not come to terms with it as I watched Amun and his troupe face their self-imposed obstacles. I felt fortunate to have witnessed not just Amun''s ascension, but the creation of his very pantheon. Not to mention the honor of teaching him - Telin''s Eternal Champion. My skills, philosophies, and ideals- all I acquired over a millennium of experience had been immortalized within this divine being. And so too was it immortalized within his troupe. They were just as graceful as he was, for the most part. From the largest brute to the smallest halfling, all of them could be seen leaping dozens of meters across the cavern, dancing through a barrage of lightning bolts, acid splashes, flaming arrows, and falling rocks while laughing and singing and competing in earnest. How they moved made it seem like these ancient Halls were their grounds of play; like they were the children of giants, frolicking in a city of Paradisians.


    Their movements about this space made me feel as such: a creature who needed a castle to be comfortable was given a broom closet in which to rest. To that end, their presence within Nydorden Halls would have been akin to a creature who needed a continent making do with a castle. Thus, I was certain that their presence in the caverns below would be akin to a creature who needed a realm settling for just a country; the land would be incapable of sustaining their play. If it could, its inhabitants surely could not.


    And so, what did that say of war?


    Such would have been the case here, had there not been protections. Yet even then, there was some reliance on Amun and Iris'' use of their Grandmaster Artificing perks to repair what was damaged.


    I was proud beyond belief. Yet as I looked on, I could only feel despair; for I knew the quicker the miracles came, the faster the wonders would fade. I knew he would be guided below. I knew he would be taught our history - his history. Knowing him, I knew what he would witness would bring him to disdain the Demon Spider. Even if he joined her, I was certain my life would remain the same as it had been for the last several centuries; stepped on and ridiculed by my very granddaughter- my youngest granddaughter. Exiled from all drow except those they openly shunned- the males.


    Her first son was no different. Etan was insignificant to Etyl. A mere pawn she intended to use to learn more of the one we called the Destroyer, ignoring or perhaps denying the fact that all she needed to do was ask. It was paradoxical, the way she obsessed over him now. That was why I would have sent him away, even without the tasks. Because I was certain he came to the same conclusions as me. Because I was certain he would be bold where I had not. Because I knew that if any of us deserved to be freed from the Demon''s webs, it was Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    Instead, my worst fears were realized when Etyl said her temporary goodbye to Amun and led her son into the Darkworld. It seemed to leave the Champion unbothered, on the outside, yet the blank stare at their long-gone steps spoke volumes. One as bold and cunning as he would certainly have a plan. Thus, it was my turn to be bold. If not cunning.


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    "We shall see you soon, Destroyer. All of us will be awaiting your arrival in Zimysta Falls."


    Etan gave me a knowing look before he stepped off with his mother, who was so similar and yet dissimilar to mine. We had a plan and would stick to it, but I was enjoying these prospects less and less as time went on. I admit to not having the best thoughts as I watched them walk away. This was what Etan wanted, however. I had no choice but to honor his wishes; not if I wished for him to do the same in reverse.


    "Are you not going to change?" was the distracting question I chose to turn toward. The one behind said question was a drow of average build and all the obligatory features of House Za''Darmondiel. Absurdly handsome. Pointed chin. Small nose. High cheekbones. Red irises. White locks tied and smothered in cobwebs adorned with rubies and mithral. This one was the most boyish drow I''d seen, however. Always, a cheeky smile was painted on his face.


    At least when the females weren''t around.


    "What do you mean, Sorn?" I asked him, gesturing to the same clothes I arrived in - my original robe. In turn, he waved his hand over his face in a knowing manner. "Later," I then said. "I''d rather not inadvertently change this place by laughing or something."


    "And why would bringing out those sick horns and that wicked crown of yours change these old Halls?"


    It was my turn to give him a knowing smile before walking off, waving over my shoulder. "You''ll see."


    It took him a few moments to catch up, saying the most ridiculous thing one could say in this situation. "Those aren''t even the clothes we gave you!"


    I had the impulse to remake the garbs with the proper materials right then and there. But that would''ve broken the dam of never-ending questions, so I played it off with a casual shrug. "Sue me."


    Although he still followed me to the grand table, Sorn said nothing more about the matter. Or anything else. Instead, he seemed content watching Sam add more food to the surrounding platters, at least until he gave in to his temptation and dove into a mountain of pasta. While Freki would normally assist in such endeavors, it seemed his snout was more focused on the many women of the night frolicking about the space. As was I and many of the monks here. True to my assumptions and the common tropes abroad, drow were lascivious creatures. Being a monk, cleric, or even a paladin changed that not. Indeed, it seemed to be a revelry of temptations. Not only was there food, drink, females, and males of the night from various species. So too were there many Darkworld drugs, magical cocktails, and dangerous games of chance for everyone''s pain or pleasure. We four graduates were bathed and fed in ways that would have made Caesar himself envious. I even got to fulfill a particular fantasy of mine with a few ''giantesses'' of the Amazonian persuasion, resulting in a few of the Troupe spending the rest of the night laughing about climbing trees and milk; not that I wasn''t laughing as well.


    I did no ugly bumping with any drow, though, as the knowledge gained by the little brooch my dearest mother gave me made that more than a little¡­ uncouth. Thus, I spent the last few hours of our revelry sitting calmly at a table with the Troupe, Peter, Rua, Veil of Shadows, and a few drow; shooting shit with a burnbud cigar clenched between my lips.


    Just like old times.


    "What will you all be doing after this?" Veil of Shadows asked before adding. "Other than relocating to meditate?"


    "My Legionaries are in Chaulort," Rua said. "I''m going to rendezvous with them and do some traveling. And you?"


    "I intend to explore the Darkworld. Though, not to enter the city of drow. I aim to explore the caverns and tunnels on my way to the Sanctuary." Shadows explained before his bulbous eyes turned to Peter.


    "Well, I have guys everywhere." He shrugged, tapping at his ring. "But my, er, lair is in Crater Lake, so I''ll be going to her."


    "Her?" Aldo, Peter''s instructor, asked mockingly. "You speak of a lair stone as if it''s a person?"


    "Oh, but it isn''t just a lair stone," I said, uncaring of who heard me. We moved past such things months ago, after all. I''m sure you saw it? The divine magic that leaked out of me when I threw my lair stone."


    "I did." Sorn nodded slowly.


    "That branch of divine magic evolves a creature to the end of its evolutionary chain. A Paragon. Leary is one such example," I said, throwing my arm toward the man-sized goblin snoozing in the distance. Or at least pretending to. "The Paragon of a lair stone is an Elder Stone. Think of a lair stone but with our levels of intellect."


    "What domain could grant such an ability?" Sid asked. So I answered.


    "Mana."


    That elicited a long and stunned silence from every drow present. The four of us and the Troupe, however, proceeded as normal, uncaring of the mental turmoil going on around us.


    "Well, whatever you wind up doing, Peter, you''re one of the few Imperators." Iris pointed out. "All you have left is to designate a specialization. As do the rest of you, within your legions.


    "Of course." Shadows nodded. "I, however, have no interest in leading a legion. A small, elite unit is more than enough."


    "Nothing wrong with that." Iris nonchalantly agreed. "It''s not for everyone. If it was, there''d be nobody to do the endless list of other things that need doing."


    "Besides undead, of course."


    Ignoring Shadows'' comment, Peter leaned back in his seat, giving Iris the most confident smirk I ever saw him wear. "Not to worry, General. I know just the thing."


    "As for me." I sighed a few moments later. "Once I return from the Under, I''ll be going to Zimysta Falls. I plan to do a little cultural exchange down there before returning to the Bodhi Tree for the mid-year ceremony. You, and by extension, everyone else, are welcome to join us for that. If you do, though, it must be done with the understanding that we will be on official business. We''ll be representing Eotrom and her Legions, and Polaris already hates me, so we''re to be on our best behavior."


    "The Empire of Light sorcerers hates you, a devil of the Nox and a drow? Color me fuckin'' shocked!" Sorn snickered. "What I''m truly shocked by is why the Hells you care."


    "Yeah." I grinned nostalgically. "I butted heads with their emperor last year. Plus his dog got angry, so I threatened him, and now he wants revenge or something. I will come for him eventually, but that''s not what I care about. I have more than enough wars on the horizon to add Polaris to the list, so I''ll only fight them now if they act stupidly."


    "And later?" Sorn asked.


    I shrugged. "I''m sure they''ll find a reason to declare war on me sooner or later."


    "What is a¡­ cultural exchange?" Nijal asked, almost tripping over his Common.


    "Ah, yes. Well, if I''m to learn of Zimysta''s history, drow culture, fighting, spellcraft, and your Goddess''s clerics and priestesses are to teach me of her pantheon, I figure it would only be right if I taught you all the history and culture of me and my Empire of Eotromenia. My Military-Industrial Empire of magical technology. I will teach you my history, culture, fighting, and spellcraft, and my priestesses and clerics will teach you of pantheon; as well as my guild. My Legio Noctis. Legions of Demigods, commanded by the Gods of my Divine Realm." I grinned, gesturing to those around me while my eyes turned about the emotional range of drow faces. "Look forward to that when I return from my delve in the Under.


    "I know I do." I grinned, looking down to the pool of darkness at my feet. "So much that I''m going now. See ya."

 387 - Undying Croak

    Amun.


    21st of Quintetas, 1492.


    Rear Antechamber, Nydorden Halls. Shujen Kingdom Underground. Depth: 2,000 km.


    08:31.


    ***


    I heard the boisterous laughter of the others echoing into the darkness behind me as I fell into my shadow, causing my laughs to echo on their lonesome once the blissful silence overcame me. No matter how much I wanted to remain there, I wasn''t lying. I wanted to get this and the next part of my plans over and done with. Thus, I reached up with little delay to open four holes in the ether and watched the Undying Fiends plummet into my shadow, chased by the screaming laughter of the others.


    "Been a while since I''ve been in here."


    Immediately after my mutterings came a creeping voice chattering in my ear from behind and below. "H-hello, my Liege."


    "Diamante!" I groaned at my first devil. "You can''t do that! It''s fucking creepy, man. You''re supposed to creep on mortals. Not me."


    "Ah, f- forgive me, my Liege. I...''ve been having so much fun with all these souls you keep sending us."


    "Yes, yes, I''m sure. That aside, I need to learn Devil Kenpo to move further down Zefroth''s Path. How long would that take?"


    "Ah, I- I am not made for such a thing, my Liege. Law is my nature."


    "Yes, and you transcribe my contracts perfectly." I sighed impatiently. "Just¡­ give me a general idea."


    "Ah, a- a year¡­ a decade... of endless fighting should do."


    "Was that so hard?" I smiled, patting him on the shoulder. He, in turn, only withdrew into himself and trembled with fear, even after I descended. A shame, his weirdness. Especially considering he appeared so much like he did in life when his name was Raymond. Minus the horns, devil eyes, sharp teeth, and umbral clothes, of course.


    "A year to a decade of fighting!" Leary sighed airily. "Sounds glorious!"


    "Sounds like a job for the Owl." I snorted. "I won''t have that much time to kill until our work in Maru is done."


    "You won''t have the time?" Rickley laughed this time. Only to pause once the thick bramble-like gates of the Under came upon us, unweaving to reveal my kingdom in Death''s Domain.


    "Time may be meaningless for the souls and devils that live here, but it runs the same for we who visit. I cannot change that, for this is not my domain. I am not the God of this realm. Only a Sovereign."


    "Welcome to the Underworld. The birthplace of devils and the eternal resting place of souls." Archer bowed from the other side. Rising as much of his haunched, bristled spine as he could with a flourish, he gestured to the vast, towering, twisting structures to his right before bringing everyone''s eyes to the empty plains of suffering on his left. "Welcome, Undying Fiends, most revered. Care for a tour?"


    They all voiced their compliance with differing levels of enthusiasm and ran off into the abyss with Archie, leaving me free to delve into the greater Abyss below. Much to my surprise, neither the tormented souls nor their devil tormentors scattered as I approached. It seemed some part of my evolution- most likely my brand, but I doubted it- superseded their fear of the void, turning angst into malice; trepidatious malice, but malice all the same.


    Devil and soul alike watched me land in that great expanse of torment from a distance. They remained silent as I obtained the lotus position, attacking only after I settled into a breathing cycle. Curious more than anything, I allowed a sliver of my mind to remain aware of the rushing hordes. It was as if I was a victim of my sorcery, the way the tormentors tore into my flesh; biting and ripping, not to eat but to simply destroy. The tormented seemed to rush into my very bones, aiming for neither salvation nor punishment. Aiming, it seemed, to pull me deeper into the Abyss than what would otherwise seem possible.


    I knew not if their pull, my concentration, or my prior experiences led me to find that something I resonated with during my meditations. It was a sense of¡­ connectivity; of distant, incomplete connections. In one way, it was similar to galaxies and how vast distances of nothingness separated them, yet were interconnected via gravity and dark matter in ways that created the fantastical filaments and voids seen when looking out at the observable universe. In another sense, it was like a map interposed on the Tree of Life; not the ones scattered across the Mortal Plane but the sacred geometrical figure - the Glyph of Power, as it was known in this universe, representing cyclical energy between all things.


    At its base stood the Underworld, linked to the Shadow Realm, above via a spindly thread winding through the extra-planar medium - the Astral Plane - like a river. The Mortal Plane sat beyond it, forming the epicenter for four branching paths linking it to what I assumed were the Elemental Planes. An arc, or rather, a bridge, connected the Fire Plane on the top left to the Earth Plane on the top right, with three islands placed between. The first was a place I recognized through Jaimess'' ''venture'' into the Spirit Realm, as it contained the same energy he now drank from his gourd. The following realm was a place I surmised by its appearance and position. It was directly above the Under, at the top of the tree. The Realm of Light, or whatever it was called. It''d never crossed my mind before, but in hindsight, it only made sense for the Lux family to have a realm to themselves, being our mirrors. At the end of the trail, however, was what had to be the Faewoods. An unexplored realm of uncanny sunshine and ominous rainbows. Much like the others beyond those of my birthright.


    Before, I studied the it as an astral projection, allowing my realizations to ingrain themselves on the scroll given to me by Abbot Eiriol, thus forming the ''secret art'' I would teach mortals in the temple I was to build at the final step. This time, however, my meditations pulled my mind, spirit, skeletonized body, and soul toward the bottommost sphere of that ''realm tree.'' Death''s Domain.


    Into that abyssal sphere, my blackened bones plummeted; satisfying some greedy beast within so much that it belched in satisfaction. The fog of darkness stood no chance in the wake of that green-black breath. I was not so unfortunate, for I soon found myself tumbling, thrown carelessly by the grotesque tempest until I halted an unknowable time later, floating before a door that stood taller than any cliff I''d ever seen; and I''ve stood at the base of Verona Rupes, on Uranus'' moon, Miranda. Bigger than me were the grains of umbral wood, secured and latched by black divine chains that glowed and sparked a putrid green as they swayed in the silent wind.


    Never in my life had I felt so small. I felt like a molecule had been forcefully made aware of the mountain it was a piece of, for it was that massive in stature: Death''s Door.


    Rather quickly, it was becoming a recurring theme: the ridiculousness felt when following the most sensible course of action, if not the most logical. It was no different here, standing as living lich before what could have only been the entrance to a divine realm, attempting to use ki to force my way in. Yet, I felt the necrotic fires of my ki release and take hold in my fist as I reeled back to knock with all my might, triggering the activation of Dead Door Knock.


    Six thunderous bangs rapped on the abyssal planks; discharging lightning bolts to spread. To carve through the grains like needles through thread.


    Six mighty bangs echoed from the divine chains; shouting curses at the sparks that shocked them to slag, and songs for the damned, accursed, and mad.


    Six boisterous booms were returned from the one inside the room; an invitation to the Undying Devil of Void; to inherit a familial role, as of yet untoiled.


    The eighteen throes of the Dead Door Knock saw Death''s Door swing beneath my feet. No longer was it before me, for I found myself in bottomless freefall, suspended in an infinite abyss, accompanied by a familiar stranger of colossal proportions who looked down on me as if I were a curious ant; or an appetizing morsel.


    He appeared before me in ways dissimilar to how my warlocks saw me. Gargantuan, but with a distinctly human likeness to his inhuman visage. A thick layer of sweat or slime coated the parts of his deep brown skin that were left uncovered by his billowing umbral coattails, so much like my familial clothes. He was slim, yet had a prominent beer belly supported by lanky legs balanced on big, almost clown feet. Spindly fingers with bulbous tips tapped at his wide mouth, parted by thin lips as the horizontal slits of his bulbous eyes focused on me. Eyes that boasted horns in place of brows. Horns like that of Suriname Horned Frogs. The horns of Nergal. Death incarnate.


    "Who is he who knows all and knows nothing? What is he who intoxicatedly invigorates all he touches? When wilt these many days transition into thy endless nights? Where wilt it arise? How¡­ do you do? Why¡­ do you do?" Nergal sang and exhaled the last question in a ghastly tone, washing a wicked gale over me that rank of carrion marinated in the essence of skatole.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ''Ugh.'' I groaned in equal parts disgust and annoyance. It seemed my neutrality toward foul smells had been cloyed upon entering this realm, and I still hated riddles. Although, like the one with Azrael''s scroll, this one was fairly easy.


    "I am he who knows all and knows nothing, the Twenty-Fifth Child of the Nox, Amun. You are he who intoxicatedly invigorates all he touches, Nergal Nox. In two years, comes my Eternal dusk; reborn in the heart of Maru. How I do these things is Zefroth, and all who came after. I do these things for me, and all that existed before, so I may optimize all that comes after."


    "Geh!" he croaked out a laugh, though his colossal frame moved not. "You know it not. Death, the Shadow Realm, and the World of Dark; their existence in you is akin to an art. Alongside some dragons, drow, and creatures unknown before this day; Dragon Imps, Venerabilis Umbra Draconis, Devils of the Fae."


    "I intend not to claim the Domain of Death for myself. Neither do I wish for the Plane of Shadow, nor the Darkworld. Simultaneously, I do not deny them as my birthright."


    To that, his thin lips cramped into a wicked smile. "Nor should you, for you misunderstand; all Void Children follow Zefroth''s plan. But You are he whom I''ve been abiding, to crown the Nox''s judge; Amun, God of the Dying."


    Before I could answer with anything other than a bow, his smile widened to reveal not the inky abyss of his innards but to unleash a blinding wave of noxious green light that subsumed me in an instant.


    I found myself swirling within a typhoon. Carving through a pit of sickeningly familiar energy. Divine fields of crackling green bolts violently arced and sparked across my clothes, tugging against the similar organ in my spirit with a maddening fervor as it sought the paths and ki ponds I spent the last several months developing. So violent, it was, and yet so peaceful, that I could hear the croaking laughter of Death more clearly than I could hear my thoughts. "This is farewell, Amun, until the days get less brighter. I look forward to the meeting between your cloth and the Demon Spider. Not as much as your eminent war, of course; between your Legio Noctis and the Agents of the White Horse.


    "And let''s not forget the long-awaited parade; your chosen purpose, the Great Marulean Crusade."


    As Nergal''s words faded, so too did the torrent of energy, leaving my 3rd necrotic ki pond open and overflowing as I plummeted once again. Down and down toward a pinpoint of sea green amongst the ever-expansive field of darkness. I saw it not approach. I only experienced a blinding flash of energy before I was returned to my body, still in the lotus position, yet not in the greater Under. Nor did I think it was it my Under, at first glance. Still, my throne remained. Though it was no longer placed amongst the elements of an expansive umbral jungle. Instead, towering walls of bone bricks sat directly before me, framed neatly with windows that granted picturesque views of the road I spent so many months traversing.


    As I turned about, my eyes fell to the dazzling display of gray and sea-green embers dancing off the petrified tiles of flesh and immediately rose to face a screaming chandelier that could have only been described as celestial-sized. In truth, however, it was neither a chandelier nor a celestial body, but the thousands upon thousands of glowing, screaming souls within my Cursed Well.


    "Woo! That''s quite the collection."


    I turned on a dime toward the whistle, yet my eyes brought my attention to the first unfamiliar thing I saw. Doors. Doors and alcoves and corridors that led to places I knew not. Beyond them were more of the tapestries, carvings, and decorations seen on the far side of the room, including windows that gave views of a calmingly familiar expanse of charred trees, black soil, and undead. Then my eyes fell toward the source of the voice. A slim, tall man of darkness and mana, tilting an ostentatious hat back as he craned his neck above.


    "It''s been a while." I grinned at Captain Darkblood before scanning my eyes across the great floor. Planted in ostentatious chairs of bone and gore sat four fiendish individuals of undying natures, staring with mixed expressions at the umbral figures craning their heads above.


    "Everyone, this is my grandfather, Azrael Cole; my great-great-grandfather, Telman Cole; my great-great-great-grandfather, Henry Cole; and my great-great-great-great-grandmother-"


    "Corvus Cole!" Reina gasped, finally rushing from her seat to take the legendary druid''s hand in hers. "I- it''s such an honor to meet you! I- I''m Reina Featherfall of the Feathered Grove. I''ve spent many years in the Blighted Woods."


    "I can see why you are here." Corvus regally smiled before looking at me. "And you made a pact with her?"


    "I did. These are the warlocks I made pacts with to step further down Zefroth''s path. My Undying Fiends. Wilson Koorb, Rickley Ravenbrook, Reina Featherfall, and Leary, the Faithful."


    "I suppose this means you''ve been to my dungeon?" Corvus asked without brushing off Reina in the slightest. On the contrary, she took Reina into a motherly embrace and seemed to radiate something into her.


    "Yes, and I found the hidden Effigy of Ari-Zmon there as well." I nodded, prompting Azrael to bound forward excitedly.


    "So you''ve been to mine as well?"


    "Two out of three. That one and one that had an undead chimera inside."


    Granny Raven rolled her eyes with a dramatic flair. "Your Great-Grandfather''s. He didn''t even put anything useful in it."


    While she wasn''t entirely wrong, I said nothing. Not that I could have said anything, with her being my great-grandfather''s great-grandmother. Thankfully, she continued.


    "Not that he could be blamed, I suppose." She sighed. "It was Cole who told me to house that Effigy inside a dungeon. Trying to understand why was an exercise in futility. In the century and a half I knew him, he was an enigma. Regardless, I told your great-grandfather to do something similar for the sake of tradition. You can see how much effort he put into it."


    "I believe I made up for it, though." Azrael then said, approaching to shake Reina''s hand. "Can''t say I spent much time in Redagh, though. I spent most of my time in the Bodhi Peninsula tormenting the Rharians."


    "As I''m sure we will be." I snorted, hearing Nergal''s words replay in my head. Then answered the inquisitive gazes of my ancestors. "Corym sent a party to kill me at the start of the year. Or, if not him, then his God did. All for killing a single unicorn."


    "Mortals are often zealous in that way," Telman said with a huff, prompting a quick murmur of agreement from Wilson.


    Corvus, on the other hand, sneered. "Ugh! Corym." He and his Rharians tried to kill me so many times I lost count. Eventually, I elected to let him despair over the fact that he could not. I bled all over his precious forest and laughed as it wilted his trees."


    "That''s a good idea." I snickered. "Although, considering recent events, I might take it a step beyond that."


    "Oh, do-tell!" Henry grinned.


    "Well, my return here saw me reach the Eighteenth step of my monastic path. As you see around you, I''ve finally opened Death''s Door and stepped through. Before I came here, however, when Death opened his door, I met him. Nergal Nox."


    If there were any tea being consumed at that moment, it would have been sprayed on every surface of the room alongside the sounds of echoing gasps, clutched pearls, and broken chinaware. Everyone from Leary to Corvus stared at me as if I''d just voiced an intention to fight for the light. Awkwardly. For seconds unto minutes until¡­


    "What-did-he-look-like?" Corvus asked so fast it sounded like a single word.


    "Frog-like," I said hesitantly, half wondering if he was listening. "Tall, with lanky arms and legs, and an enormous belly with thin lips and horns for eyebrows. He was wearing our house clothes, too."


    "Those old things?" Azrael chortled.


    "Yeah." I snorted. "He asked me a riddle that amounted to: ''Who are you? What am I? When will I begin spreading darkness across the Mortal Plane? Where will it start? How can I do it and why do I do it?'' my answers were: ''The Twenty-Fifth child of the Nox, Amun. Nergal Nox, God of Death. Two years. In Maru. My ancestors. Me, history, and the future."


    "You and history?" Telman raised his brow.


    "My exact words were: ''I do these things for me, and all that existed before, so I may optimize all that comes after.'' In other words, my biggest motivation is to learn the unbiased truth of this universe and merge it with what I know to create the best future. But that''s neither here nor there." I waved the matter aside. "After, he implied that even though I didn''t know it, the Underworld, the Shadow Realm, and the Darkworld were part of my divinity. As were many creatures. Some of which have never existed before. Like dragon imps, venerable shadow dragons, and¡­ well, Devils of the Fae. Elven Devils, if you will. I told him I had no intention of usurping his domain, but if it was given to me by my ancestors, I wouldn''t deny it. To that, he said, ''Nor should you, for you misunderstand; all Void Children follow Zefroth''s plan. But You are he whom I''ve been abiding, to crown the Nox''s judge; Amun, God of the Dying."


    "God of the Dying." Corvus, among many others, echoed. Yet it was Telman who spoke next.


    Rather, he murmured. "Misunderstand... Zefroth''s plan. Abiding. Judge"


    "Oh, I love a good song!" Henry began clapping, prompting Rickley to join in.


    "Oh yeah, he spoke in nothing but rhymes and riddles. It made me think he was a bard, to be honest. And I know he has the power of electricity, at least, as my core resonated with it."


    "Wonderful!" Telman beamed in a downright uncanny way. "I''ll have to research what this means, of course!"


    "Of course." I nodded, then turned back to Corvus. "Now, I don''t feel any different. However, no one is dying here, so we''ll see. At any rate, the title will coincide with one of the perks I''ll gain after meditating here and reaching Step Nineteen. Undying Touch. In short, I''ll be able to make people temporarily undying with my ki. So, when I fight Corym." I wickedly grinned. "He''ll die only when I give him permission to."


    "Nice!" Henry grinned madly.


    "But before even that, we have a meeting with the Queen Demon Spider''s drow".


    "I don''t foresee that going well," Telman huffed. "Demons never liked our kind, unsurprisingly. Drow, on the rare occasions we have met, love us. We often love them too. When their minds are not enwebbed in mindless chaos, that is."


    "Yeah." I sighed. "Which is exactly why I''m going to bring some much-needed change and order to the drow of Zimysta Falls, and for a compelling reason. Allow me to tell you a bit about my mother, Eved," I said, withdrawing the spider-shaped brooch she gave me not so long ago, along with a mana sensitivity potion and an arcana well that may have come from a different ''divine beast'' than I initially imagined. "Her, and a young drow monk named Etan Za''Darmondiel, and how they relate to our clan."


    ¡ª¡ª


    [The Way of Death''s Door, Step 18: Death''s Door, Open. Task Complete.]


    [Reward: Passive Necrotic Art: [Keep the Dead] - Your ki has developed to the point of influencing your undead in ways that transcend your deathly reach. So potent is the ki you imbue into your martial undead that it forms a spirit, creating an Undead Monk with the ki to raise martial undead from those they slay.]


    [Reward: Reactive Necrotic Art: [Death''s Door, Open] - So highly concentrated and invasive is your necrotic ki that the act of unleashing your natural ki results in an explosive burst that forces Death''s Door open, causing all who peer inside to lose themselves to fear and madness whilst hexing those within range; and for those who have heard the Dead Door Knock, there is only judgment.]

 388 - Giving Thanks

    After the extensive reunion with my ancestors, the conversation died to an all-time low. For good reason, I add. The implications of what was discussed ran deep, yet it was not something I could dwell on, for it changed nothing in the grand scheme of things. And so, the only thing to do was to continue marching.


    With assurances that we would speak soon, my ancestors departed, freeing the others from the manor to explore my Under and thus freeing me to sit atop my throne and finally realize I didn¡¯t have to use it to commune. Therein was the last thought that crossed my mind before I focused inward, and then out.


    Despite the shift in locale, meditating was the same in my Underworld as on the outside. Now I could clearly see the vastness of Death all around me, even with the slightest focus. I could see my Under had changed just as much as everything else.


    I could see Carbury moved his resting place into the far distance behind my throne-turned-manor, where his presence saw the colossal forest grow to the size of mountains, linked by the winding branches of exotic trees. Therein went Reina, who used the darker aspects of her twilight to create armor and items for the many undead beasts within.


    I could see Zaraxus in his castle to the right of my manor. Released of his duties in Shujen, he split his time between the death world woven above us and here, training and educating the 20 undead I assigned him shortly after he was raised. Therein went Leary, who used his blessings and boons to enhance the Death Jarls, Mummies, Revenants, and other powerful undead within.


    I could see Lana in her long house-turned-encampment to the left of my manor. The long house was still there, however, and it was still filled with Bruce, Caleb, Neil, and the other shadows of my first undead company. Therein went Rickley, who used her bardic abilities to speak to the souls of the shadows within to document their stories, spells, skills, and secrets.


    I could see the Shade Palace, now an island at the center of the lake before my throne, wherein hundreds of freshly promoted Undead Pages arrived daily to practice every craft, train with every weapon, and learn everything I required of them to serve my Legionaries. Therein went Wilson, who used his prowess to increase the palace¡¯s efficiency and enhance those who ran it.


    I could see. With a clarity that grew by the second, I could see my ki spreading throughout my Underworld, infecting everything from the abyssal soil to the undead atop it, ebbing something that was not quite alive out of them that sought to counter the waves that awoke it as it flowed back to me. It pushed into the walls from all sides as it impacted my manor, erecting a great pillar beneath it that shook the foundations loose and blew out the windows. The glass-like shards that once sealed the baleful air outside morphed into grains as they fell to the widening floor, now ingrained with the blackest wood. The palace was pitted in darkness. The halls widened, their walls losing the markings of hewn stone in favor of a grim monastery''s smooth, painted walls.


    All those things changed in the blink of an eye that passed until the wave''s return, yet it hadn''t reached me.


    Born from all things dead in this, my Underworld, the tidal waves of immeasurable energy converged on my body, slamming into my spirit, where they refused to be released and thus flowed into the paths and ponds I developed over the last several months.


    As dictated by the paths, they flowed into the first pond of necrotic ki to mix with the less dense energy of the 2nd and 3rd ponds until a homogeneous consistency had been reached. Then it began pushing. It crept up my paths until it seeped into the 4th ki pond, increasing the pressure within that was kept in equilibrium by my focus until the pond overflowed with the same vibrancy as the arcane words floating before me.


    [The Way of Death¡¯s Door, Step 19: Death¡¯s Temple, Task Complete.]


    [Reward: Active Necrotic Art: [Death''s Door Stop] - With Death¡¯s Door Stop, one can hold Death¡¯s Door open for up to one hour at the cost of all stockpiled ki. In doing so, a domain of necrotic ki is spread across a radius of 50 meters, granting necrotic ki users an unlimited source of ki to siphon from. Simultaneously, any undead or undying existing within Death¡¯s Yard while the door is opened receives buffs in strength and constitution, as well as and martial proficiencies.]


    [Reward: Passive Necrotic Art: [Dead Breezeway] - Having passed through the threshold, the Dead Breezeway can now pass through Death¡¯s Door when opened. Its wicked winds serve to siphon life from the living, repairing the wounds of the undead and undying while simultaneously boosting their agility, dexterity, and martial proficiencies.]


    [Reward: Passive Necrotic Art: [Undying Touch] - Such has your ki grown, that your Touch of Death has grown into the Undying Touch. With this, you can imbue ki into those you strike to make them undying for a time, allowing you to ease or aid their suffering by keeping them standing before Death''s Door.]


    [The Way of Death¡¯s Door, Step 20: Death¡¯s Monastery.]


    [Though you have stepped through Death¡¯s Door and seated yourself on the Throne, your path is still incomplete, for your throne remains in your Underworld. To truly become the Nox''s Judge, the Undying Reaper, you must construct a Monastery on the Mortal Plane and train your first acolytes in the Undying Way to complete the circuit between all Ki Ponds.]


    I wasted no time reading them, for I already knew what I''d be granted. Moreover, I could still see what was happening in the Mortal Plane. Thus I gathered my Troupe without delay and ascended from the Under, stopping in my pit of darkness for only a moment to contemplate wearing the brooch in Zimysta Falls.


    I decided against it.


    After all, that would ruin the surprise.


    ***


    Abbot Eiriol.


    21st of Quintetas, 1492.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    09:32.


    ***


    It took not long for him to return. Only an hour. Perhaps two. In that time, both little and much happened. Our obligations to the Bodhi Tree were complete until next year. Rua Nun, Peter Boyd, and Veil of Shadows were full-fledged monks, tasked with forming their monasteries to become masters; so they went on their respective ways. Thus, the monks of Nydorden Halls could take their leave. Not even the juniors had reason to stay; not when their matrons ensured they had the same facilities below.


    And so it was that the 4,400 monks of Zimysta''s Eight Eyes gathered at the true entrance to Nydorden Halls. The terraced pit was made to fit ten times as many, of course, yet it somehow seemed cramped due to this Troupe and their collective parties. In particular, the massive guests sitting before me - the so-called ¡®liberated¡¯ Prince and Princess of Shujen; Freki, and Geri.


    ¡°No, I come first!¡± The brutish woman of ice was saying. ¡°I¡¯m the oldest, and it rolls off the tongue better. Geri and Freki. See?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± Javrith, the Second Son of Yela and a senior monk, rolled his eyes impatiently. ¡°Geri. Freki. What do you do?¡±


    ¡°Ah, such a vague question.¡± The woman teased, tapping her chin before slapping her brother¡¯s arm. ¡°You first.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a farmer,¡± Freki said dismissively, waving at the black wolves around him. ¡°We all are.¡±


    Bazra scoffed beside his brother, Barrow, alongside a hundred other junior monks of their ilk. "You¡¯re fucking lying. With how dangerous you look; you, a farmer? Laughable.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true.¡± Freki nodded, pointing to his half-elven, dwarf, halfling, and human bards. ¡°Except for them, everyone you see here is a farmer. A False Shepherd.¡±


    ¡°False what?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s someone who¡­¡±


    ¡°I am sure you have heard this before, but you do not often see children growing to the age of evolution in days,¡± I said, turning my eyes away from those large celestials to pass over Blude, Redd, Sam, and Iris before passing over each of their shoulders in turn. ¡°You have all grown well. In more ways than one.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Abbot.¡± Iris and several others said at once.


    I admit to playing coy and bashful as I waved off the title, yet said nothing more of the matter. One, for there was nothing that was yet to be said already. Each member of the Troupe - at least this half - had dozens upon dozens of capable followers; evolved mystics, professionals, business owners, divine agents, even. And therein lies the second reason. Their expansive parties made them more of an object of interest than they already were. At least to the eyes up here. To the eyes below, however, I knew they¡¯d be seen only as a threat, if not offensive. Worse, I knew any interest in them would be seen as the most severe crime; worthy of the most horrific punishment. Fortunately, the monastic drow in these Halls never got around to that.


    Unfortunately, it got around to them. To all of us.


    It began with a sense of dread, so familiar and so powerful. The necrotic ki of Amun shone like the surface sun, sending a cold shivering howl down every spine present. Nearly. From the depths of that cold came warmth. Darkness corrupted by a million motes of light both gilded and violet. From those starry motes came those most curious ones, the undying fiends. The vibrantly long-haired halfling came first, beating on her bosom as if it were a fiery drum; and following her came a thunderous bolero that echoed the march of a million souls held in the bodies of a few. The man-sized goblin; the elf of feathers; the lich in child form. Then came the brightest mote of all, from behind me.


    Like the others, that most vibrant point bore Amun, just as he was when he first returned to these halls. The mismatched draconic eyes. Blackened horns and fingers, with stark white nails. The eldritch tattoos around his wrists, the angular blue veins running to his temples, and the diadem of arcane fire and divine sigils. It was all there. Though he still wore his monastic garb, his shoulders were covered in a familiarly feathered robe. The Greater Piwiff I gave him, upgraded by a Grandmaster Artificer¡¯s touch, I presumed; among other things.


    ¡°This is the transformation the Matron mentioned?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Oh, no.¡± Amun shook his head dismissively as his head panned around the environment. "This is my godly image, I suppose you could say. Though it¡¯s subject to change as I move further down my classes.¡±


    ¡°And those are perks of what classes?¡±


    ¡°The Void Devil¡¯s Eyes, Jaws, Claws, and Horns are from my Sorcery. Everything else is from my clerical class, the Eternal Path.¡± He casually said. ¡°One of my first clerics came up with the name, the Elven Devil. And then another came up with the Devil of Fae not a second later. I disliked both names at first. But¡­ well.¡± He snorted, gesturing to himself. ¡°It seems they were quite accurate.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± was all I could manage to say. Yet, it could have been the contrary. The power of a deity came from faith. So too, was a deity''s power shaped by faith, particularly by the interpretations of their faithful. But then again, his clan was ancient. Just as ancient, perhaps, as the drow blood coursing through his veins. If he was from our House - the one that forsook me, his title may be more literal than he believes.


    At any rate¡­ ¡°I presume this means you are ready to venture below?¡± I asked, cautiously taking the small but undeniably divine mushroom he offered me; a cap of swirling blue and violet, mottled with golden spots. ¡®What is this?¡¯ I sighed with even more trepidation.


    Amun, however, only nodded, saying. ¡°How do we get down?¡±


    I gestured around us. ¡°This very chamber is our lift. It will take us one day to make the descent.¡±


    He looked about with a look of disapproval before a great but short quake shook the cavern. Dust swirled into gilded masses around our bodies as the ground crumpled beneath our feet, keeping us suspended above the void while the shadows seemed to aggregate into hard shells around the various groups.


    ¡°Oh, drop pods. Nice!¡± I heard Geri mumbling as a plush seat formed beneath me, sealing me in a luxurious chamber with Amun, Sorn, Nijal, and the other senior monks. Then we fell. Rapidly and ever faster through this tunnel of light and darkness- Twilight.


    I knew not how long it would take to reach our destination, only that it would take much less than a day. Less than a day for my questions to be answered. Less than a day to do whatever I could to change my station. Less than a day to be as careful as I could, for many ears were listening in the dark; and at least eight eyes were always watching.


    ¡°What do you know of the Darkworld?¡± I asked.


    Amun answered with a snort. ¡°Far more than most.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡± I huffed. ¡°Do tell, then, what you know about drow culture?¡±


    ¡°My mother, Eved, didn''t tell me much, so I only know what your great-grandson told me.¡± He answered shortly, yet that word - that name struck as much fear into my heart as it did hope in my spirit; but in the fashion of an undying being, he gave me no repose. ''That¡¯s a gift from him, by the way.'' He pointed at the mushroom concealed in my robe as he signed in the Drow hand code. Wincing, my eyes darted to the surrounding monks, who were all shrouding or outright holding similar mushrooms. ''His means of returning the favor by freeing you from this madness and giving you a proper future.''


    ¡°I see. And... what did you learn from your mother?¡± I said as slowly as the subtle movements rolled off Amun¡¯s hand, so familiar in their inflictions, they were.


    ¡°Nothing good, but enough to realize what you told me before I left was true.¡± Those words and the bleak tone carrying them caused many red eyes to shift worryingly. Yet he pressed on. ¡°Not that it¡¯s a bad thing. It¡¯s quite the opposite, really, for it brings about an opportunity for my fellow drow to change; to grow and reach our peak. Like you saw here with this lift, change will be brought wherever I go. Whether I want it to or not, it will touch everyone I meet and countless more I never see. However, I''m responsible. I clean up my messes. So be patient, I ask you, my fellow Drow.


    ¡°Dusk looms around Zimysta. The Night beckons the Crown of Gloom to uplift our name, and become our enemies'' doom.¡±

 389 - The Land Down Under

    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    28th of Quintetas, 1492.


    Spinner''s Gate, Zimysta Falls. Shujen Kingdom Dark Clouds. Depth: 242,971 km.


    16:59


    ***


    It was so confining, returning to Nydorden Halls, the only place I had ever known until it wasn''t. So quickly, it happened, that I had little time to compare and contrast what existed now versus what had been. Not until it struck me in the face.


    In the Halls, I felt like one often felt in a house. I could not run too fast, speak too loud, or hit too hard. Everything was to be done with focused restraint. Here, in the bowels of Zimysta, it was like a prison - a dungeon - not ''like,'' it was a dungeon. A foul pit of deceit and senseless slaughter. A prison of chaotic darkness. Two things that were my birthright. Two things that were my boon.


    One made me like those around me - the males of House Za''Darmondiel, along with the other, lower-class males of his house; fighters, wizards, witches, and monks alike. Useless. Insignificant. Better off dead and thus relegated to fodder with meaningless titles, breeding stock, pleasure slaves, or worse. The other gave me fame and infamy. It made the males pour me drinks and converse in hand code about what I''d witnessed. It made the females eavesdrop and scheme in the hopes of learning more than their competition.


    It was all so exhausting. Or, it would have been, had I not a purpose.


    ''I advise you all to pay close heed to him and his troupe during his time here,'' I told them in our sign language. ''If possible, venture the Falls with his companions, for you shall see many amazing things. Although, even if you do not, you will certainly see something.''


    "All of you, out. The High Matron summons you." The cutting voice of Ruel pierced through my ears, scrambling all males in sight. I sought to go with them, yet was cut off by her towering form looming over me. "Except you, Second Son."


    All of my sisters were almost mirror images of our mother. But the High Matron''s 6th daughter was a particularly na?ve and aggressive one who had only left the house compound to take her initial tour of G''eldantaar. She and her twin, Raki, were younger than me and mine, even. If only by a year. But with their station and size, neither of those meant anything. They were almost like drow-versions of Geri and Blude. Only a head or so shorter, much more hostile, and a lot less dangerous, if only because of their inexperience.


    Like all the other drow females, she tried to wriggle her crimson webs into my mind using fear, as she didn''t yet have the perks of any class. Yet even with then, there was no hope for even a High Matron to weave their way through my astral, now nebulous mind, made so expansive by my monastic way. Expanded more so by my boons. Trying to find a thought in our minds was like searching for an island in the World Sea. Improbable, and, in their eyes, impossible. It was an object of ire for them, only amusing us more. Their demands for us to become monks made us immune to most of their punishments. Beatings. Torture. Mental anguish. However, that left only a few punishments available to us monks. Namely, death.


    Death, or the Egging Ritual.


    "Your eyes. Your hair." She traced her lithe fingers through my locks and flung them aside as she gestured to the empty room. "This arcana dancing amongst you so elegantly. You have changed, brother. How?" she demanded.


    Bolder than I''d ever been, I went forth with the plan - my plan. I told her the truth. "I was shown what freedom is, then I grasped it. Now, sister, I am infinitely free."


    "And what is infinite freedom?"


    "Just that," I said. "My horizons are boundless. There is nowhere above, below, inside, or outside that I cannot or will not venture."


    It was clear she listened not. For the moment my words were spent, she stepped forth, nodding grimly. "In other words, you have forsaken this city, your house, your people? Your Goddess?"


    "No." I shook my head with absolute certainty. "No, on all accounts." Again, that was the truth. For I would change this city, not forsake it. I would change my house. I would free my people. And I had no goddess to forsake.


    "We shall see about that." She sneered. "Follow."


    She guided me to the precession without a word. Not by design, of course. No matter how much she tried to hide it, I could see the shock apparent on her face, for it was nearly on mine, despite me seeing a fraction of these things once before.


    Everyone - drow from every house and commoners alike - was present to witness Telin''s Champion and his companions enter the compound. Some 60,000 of our kind and ten times as many slaves littered the streets from the Mandibles to the Spinnerets, scattered around and above the markets to stare with wide eyes and gaping mouths at the gates. Still, I was pulled onward beyond the gates of the house. Into the realm of those who Have, and onward into the realm of those who Have Not, we moved forward on our mana disk to meet with the High Matron and those like her, in the highest balconies looking out the surrounding sea.


    They knew not what they saw when they turned their gaze into the chasm above. Their minds could not imagine what the gaseous cloud was. They couldn''t even realize the glowing motes of golden light brought them no harm. Not even the present monks felt their ki resonating with the spatial twilight. They only saw the Nebulous Lane. They only heard the calls of the divine, and they did not compute. Therein lie my job. Translator. Interpreter. Weaver of nebulous threads. I was a teacher, and so I was to teach. Yet I waited for the high-pitched whines and chirps, whistles, and trills to pierce every present ear before beginning.


    "Blude," I called, eliciting a high squeal from a creature so large that a mere fin eclipsed the ogre slaves working the gate. As I called off the rest of their names, high chirps, and whistles answered before their blubber sizzled, froze, or bubbled away to reveal their humanoid forms, clad in pristine suits, crowns, and gilded neckwear. "She is the Prime Matriarch of the Orcinus Mafia. An extended house of professional rogues who claim dominion of the realms seas."


    "How does one become a ''professional'' rogue?" Raki, Ruel''s twin, asked.


    "By assimilating into the societies and businesses of the surface dwellers to where they can run their schemes in the open, with such renown that few would believe any tales of wrongdoing."


    Feral snarls, yips, and howls stole any words from any readied mouths present. Again, their eyes craned above. Again, their minds could not compute. Red and blue. Fire and ice. Sun and Moon. Summer and Autumn; Winter and Spring. Geri and Freki and their packs of seasonal wolves bounded down the walls as if they were racing down the chasm. Having seen them be cursed herself, the High Matron needed no introduction for the wolves. She only watched their forms halt on the sea to freeze and boil the waters, occluding their transformation into human forms behind a dense cloud of steam.


    "The strange goblin we''ve heard so much about." was one of the many calls made to the rider of a winged, bone-plated feline, halting its descent with powerful flaps of its umbral wings. "Leary, the Faithful," I told them.


    "Faithful to whom?" Many asked.


    "His creator, the Destroyer. He is a goblin paragon. That is to say, he has been brought to the end of the goblin species'' evolutionary path, becoming the perfect goblin."


    A screeching roar beckoned a force never-before seen by the eyes of Zimysta. Light. Born from the fires of Iris'' descent, a harsh blue light poured over the many crimson eyes attuned to the dark, regretfully forcing their eyes away from the display of Iris Cole arresting her fall just meters above the water before her burning nubs sent her rocketing toward the gates with a slight spin. In one fluid motion, the fires ceased from her legs to permit the pair of mechanical talons to rotate into place while she flipped in midair and came to a landing on the wall.Stolen novel; please report.


    I chuckled at the sight of the great blue-black wings attached to her shoulders as I reopened our channel. {"They think you are a harpy."}


    "Is that¡­ a harpy?"


    To answer, Iris stood on the vertical surface and gave her onlookers a cheeky smirk as her wing-tips unnaturally rotated and peeled off, forming ribbons that disappeared into streams of blue particles as they raced up her arms, ending at caps of metal. Then her original arms screwed into place in reverse fashion, giving them a two-fingered salute before she skipped down the wall.


    "What the fucking fuck?"


    Rickley descended next, thrumming a dreadful tune as she rode the giant undying owl that was Reina, carrying what appeared to be a hairless minotaur in one claw and Wilson''s undead knight in the other, the latter of which cradled the brooding baby lich in his arms, even while they were carelessly dumped into the waters.


    "The human the black armored knight carries is Wilson Koorb."


    "The Wilson Koorb?" Ilar, versed in all things alchemy, asked. "He was rumored to have gone mad. Obsessed with creating everlasting potions."


    "He is mad. His obsession has expanded into something new."


    "Then he has succeeded?"


    "He has." I teased just as the man in question surfaced to levitate above the waters, yet I turned to the one hopping off the petrified owl''s head. "Like Leary, that halfling is a paragon. Rickey Ravenbrook, the Destroyer''s Bard." Her name elicited a deep rumble that coincided with the appearing motes of light. Shells of darkness, rather, surrounded by golden light that seemed to ebb and flow off the undead owl as it shivered, decaying, or rather, shifting its form into the petrified half-elven mother of flesh. "Reina Featherfall."


    One by one, they entered the Falls unprompted. One by one, those motes behind and above them descended onto the waters and popped, expanding into boats that held the drow monks from above. Some changed and some not, all rocking as they eased their way to the gate. Including the most recent graduate.


    ***


    Amun


    28th of Quintetas, 1492.


    Upper Chamber, Zimysta Falls. Shujen Kingdom Dark Sky. Depth: 243,018 km.


    17:10


    ***


    There were many things open to my senses. That had been true before my ascension. In a place like this, that only increased tenfold. The lingering stench of death permeated the walls like water in an aquifer, and the ever-present darkness was like an ocular sea for my sorcery. Akin to that time in the lost gray dwarven stronghold, I could see all. Some 60,000 drow and 10 times as many slaves were trapped within a subterranean spider-shaped terrarium, pitched up on an incline, sealed against the Darkworld by the roots and sunken crowns of three divine trees.


    Even without my [Divine Sight], I could see what was so desperately kept hidden beneath the folds of their hearts. I saw it above, in the coiled Halls of Nydorden, from the head down to the tail. So too did I see it here; a sea of hope, blotted by continental islands of chaos incarnate. Likewise, I could sense the depths of their schemes even without the [Void Devil''s Eyes] and [Ears.] Fundamentally, it was simple, their schemes. Chaos for the sake of chaos. Uncertainty, fuels uncertainty, in turn, fueling chaos. A perpetual feedback loop of pointlessness.


    These things, which had been noticed before, had only been exacerbated by the perks of my classes. [Divine Sight] made their visages unignorable, for I could see their faith in me growing. The [Void Devil''s Ears] made the thousands of whispers unignorable, for they collectively pleaded for the same, vile things. The [Void Devil''s Eyes] often saw the need for me to cast judgment when all I wanted to do was observe. The [Diadem of Empyrean Facultas] gave me a taste of madness, more so than the madness I gave my warlocks.


    My clerics. My priestesses. My holy symbols. Those who uttered my name. Any act of worship towards me. The Imperators. Everything within ten kilometers of those things was open to my senses. Sometimes indefinitely, other times, periodically. Up to a hundred sources for more whispering souls; even more with the means to [Survey] and [Relay] with the souls I''ve dealt with.


    I could sense. From above this lake, moat, or whatever body of water existed outside the gates, I could sense much of the strange rock formations of the interior, giving me a mental map of shadows and obscurity to describe the place they called Zimysta Falls. A vertical shaft some 300 meters deep, equally expanded in width and half as much in height on a not-so-sheer slope. In true zealous fashion, the cavern was shaped like a spider crawling up the slope to guzzle down the ever-present falls. Much like an Uma, plateaus, gorges, stalagmites, stalactites, and other features made a facsimile of the internal organs in their anatomical positions, held in place by thick bridges of web-encased stone. The cascading waterfall that gave the place its name pooled in a basin and eventually gushed from the anus, so far below, monitored by embrasures and watchtowers in the spinnerets, making the terraces and bridges Etyl, Etan, and hundreds more drow were standing on the chelicerae.


    Striated plains and mycelium meadows straddled the wide rapids pouring from the gates like mushrooms growing on trees, filling the abdomen beyond. Rothay herds and other fauna lapped at the banks of the wide ponds and streams branching off from either side, tended to or hindered by the uncountable slaves trying to catch a glance at the precession or slip in some rest while their overseers were distracted. Indeed, it seemed they were all here before me, as the markets, workshops, farms, and other buildings on the arching plateaus above them were utterly unoccupied. Even the houses, manors, and estates carved into the walls and ceiling motionlessly flickered in the radiance of the faerie flames limning the structures below.


    At 87,000 kilometers cubed, the ''abdomen'' was vast indeed. Perhaps even double the space was hidden beyond those great webbed highways skirting the walls and ceiling, however, the most prominent being the massive edifices, stalactites, or tunnels placed around the eyes and legs, connecting them to the twin towers further down, the spinnerets beyond them, and here, in the Demon Spider''s maw.


    "I welcome you, Destroyer, to Zimysta Falls. Eldest drow-city in all of Nonus." High Matron Etyl gestured to the hundreds of drow scattered amongst the treasure-filled balcony as if she intended to offer them to me. I couldn''t help but smile at the thought as I landed in a traditional Eomen salute- with the hands morbidly cradled above the chest, touching the first knuckles together.


    "I am welcomed by you, High Matron Etyl of House Za''Darmondiel." I customarily replied, then gestured to the Troupe assembling behind me. "I am in your hands, as are my guests."


    "As are your guests." She said, closing the formalities with regal calmness. "Come." She then said, stepping onto an intricate dais of thrones, made of pure arcana conjured by an elven slave.


    I could virtually feel the desire bleeding off the matrons and their priestesses as I stepped onto their altar just as much as I felt their disdain for the males of both the troupe and the spectators. It was like a foul fume that bled from their lips as the one adorned in the most trinkets and jewels leaned towards me to say. "I''ve been told of your walk across the surface, Destroyer. Never in all my years have I heard of a wake of death so broad."


    "And this robe of feathers. Is this not the garb Eiriol was tasked with giving you?"


    "Indeed, it is." I smiled at her before gesturing to my copy of the Owl''s Robes. "Do you like it?"


    Though she said nothing, that caught many side eyes and side remarks from those marching on the bridge below. Etyl either didn''t hear them or, more likely, paid them no mind. Instead, she introduced the first one as Barrdones Casia-Psellus, Matron of the 2nd house. A short, youthful appearing drow with more jewelry than clothes. Likewise, the one to inquire about the robe was an old lanky crone of a drow, Matron Khaless Noqutyl of the 3rd house. Subsequently, the other five women on this floating throne of ours were matrons of the other ruling houses of Zimysta, occupying the eyes of the vast cephalothorax-cavern. Matrons Syndyrran Illistyn, Z¡¯ryliss Hun''ana, Alauran Abaeir, Phyrryn Yril''Lysaen, and Eralyth Jusztiir.


    We arrived at the pedicel shortly after they explained their stations and proudly pointed out their houses. Then we stopped to gaze upon the great waterfall cascading into the voluminous chamber beyond. Yet it was more than a mere junction. It was a funnel born from the likes of two deeply rooted towers, each large enough to dwarf a 21st-century skyscraper or even an arcology, despite being partially buried into the stone.


    On the left was Mii''etus Praesyris, the Tower of Might, a massive edifice carved with an array of balconies and catwalks to make a relief of a faerie flame-lit shield and crossed scimitars surrounded by a wreath of daggers. Opposing it was a massive glowing crystal resembling a spider''s heart, held in the claw of a demonic arm that poured from the formless face of Arcanis Praesyris, the Arcane Tower. Both were the only prospects open to the nameless drow in the abdomen. For those in the cephalothorax, it was a requirement.


    While those of the ruling houses dwelled in the cavern''s forward ceiling, occupying the Eyes, the eight ''lesser'' houses dwelled above the branching tunnels that were the Legs, wherein slaves, mercenaries, and other classless individuals worked, resided, or staged to delve deeper into the dark. In turn, that led to house-owned marketplaces on the grounds below, auspiciously placed to permit as many prying eyes on the visitors who came to trade as possible. Contrary to my expectations, many a gray dwarf and deep gnome could be seen wandering the streets below, albeit with a constant eye looking above.


    Our precession thinned ever-more as we passed over that market. The ''lesser'' matrons guided their expansive families toward their massive gates, fashioned into the overhanging peninsulas and stalactites without ever removing their eyes from me and my Troupe. Naturally, so too did the other matrons guide their masses to the eyes, arranged like that of a tarantula. Houses Jusztiir and Yril''Lysaen in the radial eyes. Houses Hun''ana and Abaeir in the lower left pair; Houses Noqutyl and Illistyn in the lower right, beneath the massive spherical jewels that were Houses Casia-Psellus and the one that was our destination, House Za''Darmondiel.


    "Welcome to the Queen Demon Spider''s Domain, Amun of the Nox."

 390 - House ZaDarmondiel

    After suffering through the leering stares of House Casia-Psellus, we followed Etyl''s lead and ascended into the house proper via stairs. Well, the mob behind us climbed the stairs. I was unfortunate enough to ride on this dais of arcana with Etyl while the Troupe danced in midair around us, waiting for us to land in the hollow spires protruding from the First Eye of Zimysta.


    Our landing was a spacious court of polished stone, fungal trees, and bioluminescent moss surrounded by angularly gothic edifices draped in cobwebs. Grotesque spiders of every size skittered on every surface; tarantulas in terms of structure, but with skin like carapaces of waxy flesh identical to the descriptions of some demons. For the most part, they ignored the army of drow faces, both foreign and familiar. And surprisingly, me.


    It was hard, trying to note their features while the whispers and pleas echoed off the glowing forms of drow around me. Even with the Eternal Eye, they leaked through, especially when many of those crimson orbs showed me the most vile things. The same vile things seen in the other matrons, including Etyl. Yet, in darkness, there was light. Surprising things came from the eyes of a few; therein was my reason for being here. Thus, I stepped off our pedestal with a deep sigh. Only to let out a deeper one once my feet touched the ground.


    I outright groaned as the gasps turned into a roar and heads followed the invisible wave shifting the violet moss beneath my feet to a golden hue, uplifting stones to dance around me, and shifting the nearby faerie flames to the sea-green of my arcana.


    "So¡­ that happens from time to time," I hesitantly said, hoping nothing more would come.


    Etyl didn''t seem to mind, however. On the contrary, she spread her arms in glory and shouted. "Welcome to House Za''Darmondiel of Zimysta Falls! The eldest branch of the Eldest House outside the motherland. The first daughter, High Priestess Nadra Za''Darmondiel, and her children." She gestured to a mirror of herself and the eight individuals behind her; mostly vile drow, kin-killers, and three familiar faces worthy of change. Ryda, Sorn, and Nijal.


    "High Priestess Yela Za''Darmondiel, the second daughter." She motioned to a much larger version of herself, but with a more chiseled, scarred, and sadistic visage. Contradicting such a barbaric image were Sid, Javrith, Schyrl, and Shaenya; alongside an estranged drow female with fungus sprouting from her hair. Daulery.


    Similarly, the next was a star in the dark. A petite drow, a head shorter than me, dressed in crude silk robes and sporting a face meaner than any before mentioned; that, and a mind larger than one could imagine. Likewise, were the eight children behind her. "The third daughter. Mala."


    And then there was an entire family that shined bright. Phoruca, Ryldin, Viconia, Aufa, Antton, Aldo, and their sons stood proudly behind the ever-calm fourth daughter, Ilar Za''Darmondiel; one I became curious about after seeing her interactions with Etan through the net. She had a sharp and yet dainty face; with high cheekbones and cropped hair that proudly unveiled the many piercings in her ears. However, I quickly became more interested in the young ones standing closest to Etyl. Twins, no more than a year or two younger than me. "The fifth and sixth daughters, Raki and Ruel Za''Darmondiel." They introduced themselves.


    "Some of my daughters, their daughters, and theirs will observe you all during your stay. Yet you are not here for leisure, young Champion. You!" Etyl snapped towards those left unintroduced. "Name yourselves."


    A withered drow with the tall and lithe features of the first four children stepped forward. Not to say he looked old, but like Abbot Eiriol, I could somehow feel his age. Regardless, he was dressed in the quilted robes of a bardic scholar and went as far as giving a flourishing bow while saying. "Selph Za''Darmondiel, House Lore Master!"


    Following him was a drow almost equal in age, but far more grizzled. His chiseled body was marred in scars from head to toe, yet his visage held the same boyish grin seen in so many other grizzled monks above. Only with the face of Etan. "Evar Za''Darmondiel, House War Master."


    The brother Etan talked so much about stepped forward next. An uncanny experienced, as it only seemed like Etan was dressed as an excessively jeweled wizard with an expression that was somehow both angrier and calmer than normal; and I could see the reason in his scarlet eyes as clearly as I could hear it in his voice. "Eban Za''Darmondiel, Second Son and Heart Keeper of the House." And then came the man himself.


    "Etan Za''Darmondiel, First Son and House Abbot." He bowed. Then his voice echoed through our channel a second later. {''A disgrace to the title.''}


    "I am the one you call The Destroyer, the Eternal, and Telin''s so-called Champion." I bowed in turn, fighting back my grin. "My name is Amun, the twenty-fifth child of the Nox. The Undying Reaper; Weaver of Worlds; Devil of Elves; Architect of Arcana. God of Mana."


    "Iris Cole!" My daughter declared, landing next to me before anyone could voice their surprise. "Tech Goddess."


    "Blude. Goddess of the Seas. Prime Matriarch of the Grand Hadal Enterprise."


    "Geri. Celestial of Winter and Spring."


    "Freki. Celestial of Summer and Autumn."


    "Wilson Koorb, Eldritch Engineer."


    "Rickley Ravenbrook, Soul Celebrity."


    "Reina Featherfall, Flesh Mother."


    "Leary, the Faithful, Goblin God-Emperor."


    "The Elven Devil''s Troupe."


    Although Etyl retained her composure, few others did during our tour. Including me, to a certain extent. We ascended through those ancient halls of hewn stone, padded in centimeters of gossamer, passing corridors leading to wings that were more akin to compounds for the subfamilies, wherein slaves of all types suddenly found their shackles and restraints withering to dust, the paths before them left free. We passed by the library, wherein dusty tomes and scrolls unraveled to self-transcribe their words into the ambient arcana before flowing into me as pure information, adding to the Noctis Archives tremendously. We passed the treasure room, wherein arcana coated the neatly arranged items to appraise them in the blink of an eye. We passed grand industrial spaces and the conduits in my arms pulsed, infusing the ground with energy that powered their constructs and bled a nightly hue into the voluminous dining hall of our destination.


    Everything from the tirelessly working slaves to the not-so-hidden courtyards and private caves changed. Everything except the webbed doors on the front face of every level, oriented in the same direction. They radiated with foul, wicked energy, those doors to the Queen Demon Spider''s temple. Divine energy. Filthy, pestilent energy, and not in the way my blood made me see kindly. It was chaotic and senseless, ever watching through the eyes of those ruby-eyed spiders, so grotesque.


    Even then, I tried opening my mind to some of them, only to be told I was only slightly better than the other males. The spiders of Ilium disagreed. In fact, a jumping spider who found his way into my hair paid no mind to his tiny size and spat at them in disgust.


    Atta-boy.


    In the grand hall, we were treated to a gourmet dinner of aged steak, mushrooms, and wine spike with with the juice of bioluminescent mushrooms. A staple of drow cuisine that arose from their¡­ familiarity with toxins. An act that came to combine with my necrotic poison resistance to grant my immunity. Of course, my monastic perks gave me the same thing, but redundancies never hurt anyone.


    The conversation was light, if not multi-layered with intrigue. They mainly asked about or remarked about my accomplishments over the last year and a half. My displays last year, both with Dende and against my class. Tales of the floating buildings above the Peninsula and the greater worlds above the skies. My walk through Shujen and, of course, the divine beam sent across the World Sea. I answered them both amiably and truthfully by taking advantage of the changes born to the hall. Digishrooms became displays that showcased my meeting with Dende and my fight against Lance. It gave them schematics of Mani''s shards, woven worlds, and their hollowed interiors. I told them of my ignorance of the beam still traveling across those vast waters. Then they asked about my parents.


    Again, I told them the truth. "I was born and raised in Maru as the royal heir, the Grand Duke, to the House of Cole. Even with my station, I''ve always been free to do as I pleased, more or less. My father is Emeric Cole. My mother is a Youteran drow."


    "Her name," Etyl demanded before I could say it, making me almost roll my eyes in annoyance.


    "Eved."


    There was some reaction from her; what, I knew not, yet she covered it a split second later regardless. "Just Eved?" she asked. "She never gave you any other name?"


    "We''ve been over this already." I groaned. "You insisted she lost her name during my walk. But if you aren''t sure, I can show you this."


    I had to hold back laughter once her eyes bulged at the sight of the brooch I was given not so long ago, held out so only she could see and in ways that mirrored the one she wore. More so, I had to fight back from egging her on.


    "And where is she now?" She gritted her false calm through her teeth.


    "Home." I shrugged. "Wherever that is."


    "Yes, wherever that may be." She sneered, then remained silent for a few long moments before rising. "You have been shown your quarters. Rest. When you rise, you will begin to learn what it means to be drow. Etan." She then hissed. "With me."


    Everyone in the room watched them go in silence. They, along with the other priestesses, but not the younger Raki, Ruel, and a few others; led Etan like a rothay to the slaughter. Eban, Sorn, and Nijal; Antton, Sid, and Aldo; Selph and Evar. Even Ilar and her children, plus dozens and dozens more, gazed at the exit with placid gazes that belied the whispers of their souls.


    ''If only I could get away.''This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ''If only I could catch her slipping.''


    ''If only you hadn''t returned.''


    ''If only¡­''


    I heard their ramblings as clearly as I heard Etan across the comms, poetically saying.{"Tonight, they take me to be beaten. Knowledge is what they seek through violence. Violence is what I shall give through knowledge. They will then attempt to change me. Only to find I have already changed."}


    {"You all know how I feel about someone committing such an act to those I care about."} I smiled. {"Although... it may be difficult for me to stick to the plan. This place is a fucking shit hole."}


    {''Then do what you do best. Change it.''}


    As that word echoed in my mind, a divine disturbance echoed in the minds before me. The fiery auras around the frames brightened, and they turned to me and the Troupe with wide eyes.


    "Uh-huh¡­ so." Eban began. "I understand you need no trance or sleep. Is this true for the rest of you?"


    "More or less." I shrugged.


    "Hmm. Well, I''m no monk and neither is Selph," he swung his arm toward the Lore Master, flourishing his robes with a series of dramatic clanks sourced from his many bracelets. "Trance is something I quite enjoy, and I''ll not be guiding you until your time with Selph and Evar is done. Now, I doubt any of us can tell you what to do, but try not to keep the old man waiting. He may croak before you return."


    "At the risk of not remodeling the House, I''ll remain here and meditate." I snorted, turning to the Troupe. "What will you all do?"


    "This place is boring. We''re going on a hunt." Freki groaned, rising from the table with his four bards. And not a second later, Geri''s small conclave followed in their wake. "Agreed."


    "I''m going for a swim." Blude casually shrugged. Yet an urgent warning followed.


    "There are dangers in those waters."


    With an amused brow raised, Blude kicked into the air to swim over to Raki, lounging in the groves of flowing stone above. "Well, perhaps you can be our guide- help us steer clear of whatever dangerous things lie in those waters." Smiling with a menacing calm, Blude held out her hand for young Raki to cautiously take, and then disappeared down the pits without another word.


    That seemed to spur the rest of them into motion. The sons of Antton and Aldo bounded after Freki while Ruel dragged a few others after Geri. "I''m¡­ going to explore." Reina then abruptly stood, leaving her voice to rattle through the comms as she skipped away. {"Something''s¡­ calling me."}


    {"Oh, you hear that too?"} Iris perked up and followed Reina''s awkward and abrupt departure, then stopped to face the room, backing away slowly as her squinted eyes darted from side to side. "I''m gonna go¡­ do things."


    "Well then, that''s that." I smiled, turning my eyes upon Rickley, Leary, and Wilson, halfway into indulging in their pleasures.


    ¡ª¡ª


    In my meditations, I made a transition. A shift from light to dark. A change from the Creator to the Destroyer. An adaptation from the World Weaver to the Elven Devil.


    Through the observations made in the following hours, I learned many things about the ruby-eyed creatures called Drow, who prayed to their Goddess, Lilith, the Queen Demon Spider. Drow monks and the highest-ranking clerics - high priestesses - were esteemed in that only they underwent intense training to grow accustomed to the many sounds, smells, lights, colors, and open skies of the surface. The other drow, however, were different. The majority had never come close to seeing Tiatus''s light or the unending openness of the Mortal Plane''s sky. Many of them had never even ascended beyond the Dark Sky to explore the bowels of the Underground. A daily cycle of light and darkness was a thing of myth to them. Stars were only heard of in legends. The concept of seasons did not compute. Thus, they cared not for the passage of time beyond three things.


    The first was a 4-hour pause in the thunderous roar of the waterfall that happened roughly every 26 hours, marking the end of each day. Slaves across the cavern needlessly listened for the ensuing silence that probed every ear within the cavern, ready to send the appropriate messages to those in their house so the floodgates could close and the daily worship of the Queen Demon Spider could begin; for that was their only reprieve.


    Second was the steady dip in the volume of rushing water over the Falls. It served as the minute and hour hands to the keen-eared drow. But to everyone else, it was nothing more than an oddity of the falls that gave Zimysta its name. An orchestra of constant noise to accent the endless chaos.


    Last was the time it took one to train under a divine tree and eat the fruits of their labor; 13 months, understood across the realms to be one year. Of course, they counted those years in decades and centuries as well, but any other measurement was meaningless to the long-lived drow. Such was reflected in the endless nights of their cities; nights illuminated by biological processes and faerie flames rather than enchantments or torchlight.


    The other learned thing was partially what had been written in the annals of fantasy. Drow were the silent, nocturnal, civilized apex predators of Youtera. Pessimistic, industrious, and pragmatic by nature, they were made to be militant and merciless by the harsh climate of their environment and became zealots by the influences of their Queen. At times, the negative radiation of the Darkworld mutated them beyond their light aversion. However, it was their goddess who truly made them sick and twisted; sadists, slavers, hedonists, and torturers.


    Naturally, that was reflected in both their actions and their society. Brothels were a rarity, for there existed orgy houses that made BDSM dungeons look like smut lounges. General stores generally sold slaves, organs, body parts, exotic drugs, and the finest instruments of torture gold could buy. Robberies, muggings, and beatings were just as common as extortion, murder, and espionage. Even war was exceedingly common, if not exceptionally short-lived.


    Just like on the surface - better than, even - these things went unseen, if only because they were ''hidden'' beneath a veil of magical darkness. Like a tarantula on the hunt, such deeds were to be executed swiftly, leaving none the wiser of the culprit. Unlike the surface-dwellers, however, Lilith''s drow saw no need to look for the cause of such mysterious deaths beyond it being the will of their goddess to cull the weak. Exactly the way their the Queen Demon Spider decreed. Chaos without purpose.


    Now, however, a new player had entered the fray. A Drow God who, intentionally or not, could make the unseen seen, and make the supposed weak suitable for play in this ever-changing field.


    ***


    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    "Tell me of the Destroyer''s nature."


    "Amun is-"


    A stinging slap interrupted my answer. Delivered by the hand of my dearest mother, who saw fit to bring her scowl as close as she could to me as she seethed. "Do not say his name in blessed chambers."


    With hands suspended in bleeding mithral webs, I could only nod and nod deeper as the weight of a dozen spiders fell on my head to skitter across my body, nipping away at my ears, nose, and lips.


    "He is a reincarnated being with a perfect recall of his past life. A life of over a century and three decades, lived in a godless universe of no mana, inhabited only by humans. Even without magic, however, even being human, his kind started as wild prey and grew into the apex predators of their world, and then grew further into advanced beings who understood the very secrets of creation in only a few hundred thousand years. Much quicker than we of the Fae with our magic, but dissimilar in the sense that they learned the natural laws of their universe.


    "Using that knowledge, they created tools of metal, wood, and stone, much like our arcane creations, to manipulate those laws and make their lives more efficient- easier; an art they called Engineering. Like enchantments to an artificer, the creations made by their grimy human hands they called technology. Machines, devices, and tools that could do the work of a thousand slaves in hours. Or the impossible, much like magic. Yet, they used this technology primarily for war against each other. Other things came from it, but most were invented for, because of, or by the effect of war. Much like the humans we see around and above us, they eternally warred with themselves, using this ever-advancing technology to cause more destruction than the strongest spells. They used it to destroy cities in the blink of an eye, exactly the same as that crossbow we witnessed in Shujen."


    While he spiders continued skittering and nipping; biting and webbing, I kept my gilded eyes trained close on my mother''s, shifting and turning from the force of disbelief clashing with realization. And so I continued. "Even then, that was only the beginning. Those humans used technology to extend the hand of death much further than any arrow or spell could hope to reach, crossing oceans and continents to fell entire nations in one fell swoop. Yet they could also use destroy nations without ever drawing blood, attacking through disease, attacking resources or economies; even ideals. So too did they use it to cheat death, extending their lifespans to live as long as we can. They used it to build nations in the void beyond their skies and to bury their secrets in places as deep as gray dwarven strongholds.


    "One century and three decades, He spent in that universe. Then He chose to walk through the door of their Death, and he met Telin, the creator of our universe. He was then born in Maru as Telin''s Champion, the God of this universe, tasked only with living freely as himself, if only so He may be judged to join Telin after this universe''s end. And so, He began training, learning, and, in turn, teaching the moment he could.


    "At five years old, he began martial training, much like myself, but with no teacher, for he used the martial knowledge of his previous life to train his new body, half-drow and half-Nox devil. When he later learned about the Mortal Plane and Telin''s gates, he dedicated his efforts towards forming a guild. That guild, he decided, would be formed alongside an empire built around the technology of his universe, blended with the magic of ours. He succeeded in those endeavors before we ever laid eyes on him. He is the Guild Master - the Grand Master of the Legio Noctis, and the Eternal God-Emperor of Eotrom."


    She believed herself satisfied with my confession. Yet my mother was but a spider who built her web in the gaps of a much larger spider''s web; unknowing that the thick columns she anchored herself to, was made of decomposed granite whose collapse was overdue.


    And so, I followed my nature and taught her.


    "His mother was the most interesting thing he told me about. He told me of when she - Eved told him of Telin''s Intervention. She told him of her tasks and asked him afterward, ''What is it that Telin''s Champion seeks?''"


    High Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel ceased her pacing upon hearing the name. The spiders around my jaw skittered, and she blurred. Then the cracks echoed as my face was pulled to and fro.


    "I now give his answer, verbatim," I hissed through mangled teeth, placating her enough to stop squeezing. Not that it bothered me. Not that it hindered me. For, above all of Amun''s memories I witnessed, this was repeated the most. "''Knowledge.''"


    I was amused on the inside, seeing the same reactions between our mothers; although that was expected, given their relation. Thus, I continued echoing the memory.


    "''I have no wish to rule or conquer anything, if that''s what you are asking. The guild and empire I''m planning to form is only a means to an end. A way for my friends and followers to live peaceful lives while I explore these realms and learn everything I can.''"


    Knowing what was coming, I prepared early and managed to beat my mother at her own game. A cunning smirk rose from the corner of my lip moments before hers upturned into a scowl. "''And what if, when you have explored and learned, you dislike what you saw, and what you learned turned your face sour? What happens if you see only misery and misfortune throughout your days? What then?'' His mother asked, most profoundly of all." I smiled wider at my mother, Etyl, High Matron of House Za''Darmondiel. Or rather, the Nonusian branch of House Za''Darmondiel.


    "Continue." She demanded with the utmost calm; a calm belied by the slight tremor in her palm.


    "''If and when I explore everything there is to explore, I will create a quiet place to call home and live out the rest of my days surrounded by my friends. If the latter comes true. Then, I will work to remake the realms around me into something a bit more exciting.''"


    "Exciting?" Etyl recoiled in shocked trepidation, showing the opposite reaction to her counterpart.


    "''Something entirely different. As such, I cannot exactly know. But it will be something that resets everything. Something that''ll change the paradigm, or at least give me something else to spend a few lifetimes exploring. As I said, I have no wish to rule over anyone. Nor was I born into this universe to bring judgment on anyone, only to live freely. Thus, I will combine my knowledge and this universe''s magic to birth an empire capable of granting people the freedom to live as they wish. I do not care what happens outside of that."


    She remained silent for several moments, yet her fingers remained clenched around my jaw like a spider injecting venom into its prey. How auspicious that bout of silence was, however, for it made loud the waves of deep blue energy pouring through this hidden chamber, ignoring the crimson webs as it destroyed every cap, stalk, or mycelium thread my mother forced my sister to spread throughout the Falls.


    Then, I continued.


    "Had she asked just one more question, however, He would have told her what would become of those who sought to take freedom away from those he called his friends. So, perhaps you can ask him in her stead, dearest mother."

 391 - Forsaken Family

    Reina Featherfall.


    28th of Quintetas, 1492.


    House Za''Darmondiel Outer Tunnels, Zimysta Falls. Shujen Kingdom Dark Sky. Depth: 243,011 km.


    19:19


    ***


    I¡­ noticed something, in these Falls. Or rather, we did. Me and Iris. we felt it, heard it, and saw it all at once throughout this expanse. Mycelium. Fungus. Whispers. Pleas. Like webs, they stretched throughout Zimysta, congregating in the furthest depths of House Za''Darmondiel, hidden behind a solid stone wall.


    To much surprise, the drow trailing us distanced themselves as such a wall came into view. Yet it wasn''t long after passing through when we stood before another. She gazed upon me with eyes of white, shaded by a crown of fungus, moss, and mold. Streaks of bioluminescent paint dotted her cheeks and lined the underside of her lips, casting an eerie glow from the shadow of her brow as she broke the silence. "Quite a welcome surprise. Two Divine Mothers in the Falls of Zimysta. Two Mothers of Nature who answered our prayers. I am Daulery, forsaken second daughter of High Priestess Yela."


    "I am the forsaken third daughter of High Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel." Turning, I saw a familiar face, one so petite. Bald with a head wrapped in fine silks and jewels that left a probing feeling on the mind. Feelings I opened myself to at once.


    "Mala," a voice as silky as her garb rang through my mind with so much clarity I was taken aback. And from the look on Iris'' face, she was, too. "For two hundred fourteen years, I have been a slave to my mother, Etyl. The negative radiation here in the Darkworld rarely causes a genetic mutation, you see. Mine bore psionic sorcery and a strong mental prowess." Her face fell, eyes filling with all things hate and sadness; malice and hope; more than one could ever believe. "I thought she would be proud, learning of my power. Yet my mother wove a different fate for me. The same fate my older sister would later weave for her daughter." She motioned to Daulery.


    "Are you¡­ stuck here?" Iris approached her, kneeling with eyes as bright yellow as the paint strewn about the woman''s face. "Imprisoned¡­ in your own body?"


    "The custom for drow is six daughters, two males. Legs of the spider." Mala''s psionic voice echoed, following Daulery''s nod. "In our¡­ servitude, we were forced to cull the weakest of our children until we had such a number. All for the sake of their goddess - the one who had never given us any favor, for we had been tools from the beginning. I hate my mother, Mother Reina. To that, we can relate. Me and my children; my niece and her children hate her and her demon queen; as do more drow than you would believe. Before this day, we could never dream of opposing her. As for us here." She gestured around the room, "We do not want to, for we have seen Amun''s way through your demonstration with Nym, and his walk on the surface - liberation through death."


    "We are the same." I bowed, humbled by the path set before me. "I am the forsaken survivor of the Feathered Grove of Redagh; banished by the Head Druid and murdered by the hands of my parents. Blessed to be an undying fiend beneath the Owl''s wing; cursed to live among my tormentors by the Elven Devil."


    "You are so young," Daulery said to me in Common, still holding Iris'' hand. "Yet, already, you have faced the pain of abuse by those called ''family.'' I too have faced this pain. My knowledge of the Druidic arts bore my mother''s wrath, for I was to be a high priestess. Forced then, I was to have children." She gestured around to eight similar bodies of chitinous hair and gilled necks, camouflaged along the mushroom forest as still stalks of painted flesh. "Together, we were forced to spread our mycelial web to watch all that transpires in our domain; both here and above. Like you two, we hoped - prayed for salvation. Like all drow, we have longed for this day, the arrival of Telin''s Champion. Now, Amun has come; and with him, you. Reina Featherfall. Divine Mother of Nature."


    My name- my title pulled my eyes away from Daulery, gripping Iris'' glowing hand, to look upon this aged drow doing the unthinkable; saying the unthinkable.


    "Flesh Mother, free me from this suffering."


    ***


    The Forsaken Mala.


    ***


    Amun, his Troupe, and the monks may have been able to shield their minds from my probes, yet that was not the case for the tens of thousands of drow who called this place home. Not even the Priestesses and their Matrons could hide from my gaze; it was just that I could not pry into them without repercussions.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    The minds of Zimysta were like water droplets on a fine web; dissimilar in the sense that frustration, anger, resolve, and hope dyed those droplets with differing shades. On the contrary, the minds of the Elven Devil''s Troupe were like the dark sky, expansive ground, and shifting winds surrounding those tiny, fragile webs; deciding, on occasion, to give those tiny beings small glimpses of the madness within. Where many would see such a sight and freeze in awe, more would lose themselves in madness upon witnessing such a light hidden within such darkness. Where few would gaze upon such a wondrous thing and begin to plot and scheme, even fewer would embrace it wholly - those like us.


    In the same way as many drow to come, I performed many firsts in the presence of those young deities. For the first time since it was thrust upon me, I removed my headdress, casting it to the ground to allow the full heat of the realms to embrace my skull. For the first time since I came of age, I prayed from the depths of my heart, allowing pure emotion to swell through my mind and flow into this woman - the one I so desperately wished to be my mother; my goddess.


    For the first time in my life, I prostrated myself on the ground of my own volition, for if I wished to become more and rise from this web of chaos, I had to reduce myself to prey and taste the bite of a maw one couldn''t begin to imagine. However, the bite never came. If it did, it was as a gentle hand resting atop my shoulder, paired with a voice so gentle; whispering, "Stand."


    It wasn''t so much her pull that lifted me off my feet, and it wasn''t her embrace that kept me there, yet I felt her warmth flowing into me all the same. I saw it in my mind''s eye as a distant gold hue that illuminated the lingering clouds of gray that had been my reality, revealing not a web of minds but a world of interconnected beings. From insect to drow, and beyond to this Divine Mother and the ones she came with; the shining stars of Celestials; the dark voids of the fiendishly undying, and¡­ something else, I saw.


    "Just look," Reina said. "This very thing is what we came here to do."


    In my mind''s eye, Iris Cole appeared like an inscrutable wall of deep blue material. Like stone or metal; impenetrable to both mind and body. Yet she was aware of my psionic presence all the same. I could feel her poking and prodding, seeking to make a connection just as I was. And though I struggled, I could look upon her and gain a minute awareness of the sheer depth contained by that wall, staring back at my comparatively tiny frame. Through my natural eyes, I saw that same wall as archaic and angular blue vines creeping down her wrists as she muttered - prayed. They poured her deep blue energy into Daulery''s hand much faster than the dark brambles of flowery light enveloping me and my family.


    Indifferent to our case, those vines dispersed into threads, and then degraded into radiation that poured from her frame in waves, ebbing into the stalks of Daulery''s family and the moss, slime, molds, and fungus that kept them company for centuries; the very things left cradled in their hands once the power flowed back to them.


    Only after their caps and molds of divine veins formed did I look upon the young Goddess to see a starkly contrasting expression compared to the benevolent pain displayed by Reina. It was a look that coincided with the coldness in her touch.


    The wrath of a dragon burned in those rich blue eyes of hers, fueling the grit in her words as she said. "Eat. Take back what they''ve taken from you. Reboot as the first Mycodroids in the realms and become indomitable. Use this power as you see fit. For, as long as I live, you will never be trapped again."


    They needed no telling. They ate the exotic metal apples she produced the moment their hands touched their blessings. Yet they chewed faster and ate more voraciously as she spoke. Some even cried as the blue glow ebbed from their bodies once again; this time to travel through the mycelium they spent so many years spreading across the Falls. The giant stalks around them toppled in their wake. The metal trinkets and rusted arms once tossed inside as trash flashed into gleaming ribbons of energy. The surrounding stone crumbled, condensed, and reformed as it cascaded toward them. The Falls of Zimysta screamed louder than the maddened joy of the rebooted House Daulery as they took what was taken from them; from all of Zimysta and Nydorden Halls.


    Their power flowed into them one last time, aggregating into legs, arms, bodies, and visages fit for any drow, yet composed of the same metals and stone they''d taken from their takers. Violet skin as smooth as silk stretched beneath follicles that bore silver-white hair-like mycelium, long and silky to frame the blue jewels of their eyes around their newly animated faces. Driza. Dilyzina. Dhelyanya. Dirzna. Drisidil. Dilisstra. Datton. Duaglez. One by one, they stomped on the ancient stone and pushed themselves to their feet; uncaring of the tumbling rocks shattering on their hardened frames. Then, in a true show of power, they disappeared, fading into swirling ribbons of blue that leeched into the stone and faded from my senses; leaving me, my children, and our Divine Mother of Nature in this crumbling pit of torment. At least until we were no more, having faded into a crimson sea within a verdant womb.


    Through the flesh of that membrane, I witnessed the Flesh Mother conjure a staff that looked just as divine as a Life Tree and slam it into the ground; ceasing the trembles as quickly as they came; leaving only this chamber of flesh incarnate and her loving voice echoing through the abyss.


    "Your rebirth will take a little more time, darlings. But when we are done, no one will need to replicate your circumstance again. For it will be you who will decide who is blessed with this gene, Brood Mother."

 392 - Ranging Race

    Ruel Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    We had to get this¡­ Troupe out of the House. It was paramount. Not out of fear or threat, even. The reason came from the orderly chaos ensuing from their presence. They were a group of contradictions, and their ways could infect the mind just as their arcana infected the very walls - a most dangerous combination.


    Elg-Horr was the God of Mana. As ridiculous as that was to say, it made sense, being Telin''s Champion. Yet it went beyond that. The Goddess of Magic. The God of the Wilds. The Weaver of Fate. The God of Mana. His domain of all things mana completed both us and those traitorous elves above - the children of Youtera. Unlike them, however, he was here, on the Mortal Plane, in Nonus, within the Darkworld of the Bodhi Peninsula, in the ancient Falls of Zimysta, inside our House Za''Darmondiel; and he came with proxies - Gods and Goddesses of his own, and those deities had champions, all touched with so much divinity that it poured off their frames in ways that changed everything. Even if we noticed not.


    Glowing patches of moss or sometimes stone lingered above the places his feet fell, emitting illusions of the things we were most curious about him. Some rose from the ground to take on spheroid shapes and followed him, spinning around his lithe frame endlessly. A most-haunting music poured from his shadow, unplayed by the likes of the undying halfling or other bards. He carried a smell that left the tingling taste of salt, blood, burnbud, and grease in my mouth. So too was it the same for them, especially the ones they called Iris and Reina. Metallic mushrooms and strange vibrant petaled... things burst from the ground wherever they passed. The human that Ilar obsessed over oft poured his maddened whispers throughout the House just by outstretching his arms. Even the man-sized goblin''s presence gave our goblin slaves the courage to scowl and snarl at us as we passed. But even that was hardly as problematic as these three.


    The Gerdian matriarch, who swam through the air as if it was water.


    The giant of a man who carried the heat of magma.


    The giantess of a woman who seemed more like a venerable blue dragon in human form.


    Elg-Horr would change, perhaps destroy Zimysta. The former was what the matrons worked so hard to ensure since Telin''s Intervention - that the Falls would forever go down in the annals of history as the first elven city to receive His touch, whatever it may be. But only if these three didn''t melt, flood, or freeze the place first. And so, me and my sister grabbed our lessors and took it upon ourselves to get them as far away from the Falls as possible. And perhaps get some information to boot.


    How ridiculous it felt, though, levitating through my house to not slip while following the dragoness and her conclave of canines. They trotted along the walls and ceilings as if they cared not for class or tact, leaving prints of ice and snow or even frosted roots to coil through the ancient stone of our house. More of those petaled things trailed in their wakes, frosted like the highlights of their fur; and the way their vibrant eyes darted between the hidden passersby made it seem as if they dared someone to say something about it. Uncannily intelligent, they were, and dissimilar as well, yet uncannily similar all the same.


    Three of them had short legs, yet where one was dense, stocky, and bearded, the others were lithe or, in one case, long. One even had horns and black sclera like the Striflings, whereas the other two were more or less true to the bestiaries, only larger and with ice-blue streaks of fur highlighting their silver snouts. It was the same mark present in Geri''s drow-white hair- shaved on the sides and braided into finger-thin strands tied into a messy bun. So too was it present in her magical mark, shown to the realms by her hooded pelt vest of white fur remaining open and swaying with her gait. The patch of vibrant blue hair drew my eyes down whenever she turned to face me. When she didn''t, the same hue could be seen within the eyes of her hood- made from the head of a great canine.


    "It''ll be a little cramped inside." The woman began as we passed through the gates, motioning to a colossal beast that appeared from nowhere. Parts of it positively radiated magic, much like an arcane construct. Yet it was undeniably made with metal and thrummed with a power that didn''t come from any magic I could sense. Its head was smooth and oblong, much like an eggshell. Only its backside was broken with many writhing tendrils of blue, white, and green metal protruding from it.


    "What is this?" I demanded in the simplistic language of the surface.


    "A Squid Squealer." Geri proudly said, tickling one of the dozen tendrils protruding from the rear of this long shell or¡­


    "It is an egg." I realized.


    "Was." Geri corrected. "Now it''s a Squid Squealer, but there''s only enough room for me and two more, so someone''s gonna have to ride on top."


    "Pharyl has experience riding lizards." I pointed to the forsaken trash I pulled from the wreckage of a¡­ lost house while guiding the slightly cleaner Qiryyn and Nhildia behind Geri.


    Morbidly curious, I paid close attention to every detail as we entered. The beast or machine coiled Pharyl within its tendrils to lift him to the top where another pair of tendrils had woven together and shifted into an impromptu saddle, starkly similar to the ones our lizards wore. Several more tendrils braided themselves as they curled around, extending to our feet to create a bridge to its innards, complete with handrails for our ease of movement. Nevertheless, I floated up the bridge to face a strange construct akin to a beak. It was set to the left of an unassuming door, like an impressive, if not bemusing, monument embedded into the wall. One that continued on the other side of an antechamber.


    Though I was curious still, I was veritably unimpressed and remained so until we pushed through the antechamber to emerge in a fine lounge bathed in my favorite blue shade of bioluminescence -and my arcana - only to have my satisfaction usurped by disgust for those canines, hopping atop the seats and cushions strewn about the sunken central area. Thus, I relocated to the table on the right to sit and glared at my lessors.


    Hardly meeting my gaze, Qiryyn and Nhildia shuffled between the beasts with similar levels of enthusiasm, and yet dissimilar levels of grace. While the former was short, lithe, and agile, the latter was brutish, yet a bit clumsy for a drow; hence, her lesser station.


    "Alright, hang on up there," Geri called.


    I began to question how she thought Pharyl could hear her when I was distracted by a sharp whine ringing throughout the cabin, followed by a deep shudder and a sudden lurch.


    "W- what is this thing that can fly so fast!?" I heard Pharyl ask as clearly as I would my thoughts.


    Following the source, I saw a curved window showcasing an eye, scrying on Pharyl, clutched in the grasp of this creature while he turned his widened eyes about his blurred surroundings.


    "We''ve already been told this is a Squid Squealer. Now be quiet!" I spat, then turned to this most curious woman before me. "The stories tell of you, the Princess of Shujen, being a ranger. I suppose that is your occupation?"


    Her brow rose as she turned away from the window to offer me a nod. "Yes. A Ranging Warlock. Among other things."


    "Hmm. Legendary Classes, were they?" I mused. Those were not unheard of, after all. "That aside, I have heard of your¡­ possession. Your curse. You are now a celestial sorceress, and yet a warlock still. What is the title of your patron?"


    "The Man Inside the Moon."


    "What is this ''moon'' you speak of? Unless that is another of the Destroyer''s monickers?"


    Her eyes danced above my head as she thought for a moment. Then they fell back to me with a crude smirk. "Have you ever been to the surface, Ruel? Or have you heard of the rock in the sky? The second sun?"


    "I have!" Pharyl shouted.


    So I shouted louder; and with power. "SILENCE!"


    "Why are you so harsh to him?" She asked.


    "Why?" I turned to Geri with a look of genuine shock. "He is a nameless male - claimed by no house. They are nameless as well." I motioned to Qiryyn and Nhildia. "I pulled them from the mud of these Falls and made them anew, but he is male. Inferior in all regards, useful only for breeding and furthering the High Matron''s ends. Drow females are smarter, faster, stronger, more cunning, and more capable than these filthy males; as our Goddess, Lilith, most-high, decreed! Only we receive the grace of our Queen Demon Spider."


    Leaning forward, I gazed deep into her sapphire eyes, adopting the same cruel grin that made my lessors shudder; even before I hissed. "Do you not agree?"


    "No," she said, unhesitantly. "Such things are meaningless when it comes to strength and potential. After all, Amun is stronger than anyone here, and he''s a half-drow male. Wouldn''t you agree?"


    "The Destroyer is different!" I sneered. "He is the only male that matters! The only one that ever will!"The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    She stared into my eyes for a long moment. Yet there was nothing to gain from staring into hers - so cold and empty, like the tales of ''winter'' - like death itself.


    "What is he to you?" she eventually asked.


    The question took me aback. Not so much a slap in the face as much as me walking into a stalactite. It made me pause, push a sigh through my teeth, and think.


    "I cannot tell you because I am unknowing." I admitted moments later. "All we have are assumptions. Besides him being the Eternal Champion, no Fae in or outside the Mortal Plane knows who or what he is, save perhaps his mother. We all know of him, however. Every child of Youtera older than two hundred sixty-six years heard the Creator''s words, heralding his Champion; recorded in the annals as Telin''s Intervention. Many were given tasks to prepare for his arrival. That is why He is here. So we may learn of him - of his purpose; so he may learn of his people. Drow."


    "A third of his people." She corrected, making it my turn to raise a brow. "His mind- his consciousness is what''s eternal. His flesh is Half-Drow, half-Human. His spirit and soul, however, are that of the Nox. A Master of Shadows, a Sovereign of Death, Void Devil." Pausing, she leaned over the table to growl while giving me a feral grin. "Would you like to know what they call him on the surface?"


    "Humor me." I leaned forward, growling back.


    "The Elven Devil. Or, depending on who you ask, the Devil of the Fae." She reclined in her seat, shrugging carelessly.


    I thought it a ridiculous title until I remembered his blackened fingers, jagged teeth, and draconic eyes. Plus, of course, those fiendish horns. "Perhaps it is more accurate than one might assume. However, it is now my turn to ask a question. What is he to you, Geri?"


    "Everything." She leaned back, laughing airily. "Technically, my brother and I have known him the longest. A perk of our¡­ possession, as you put it. Our human personalities remained, but our memories were sundered and replaced with the memories of Skoll and Hati; the celestial wolves who accompanied Amun on his walk. So, to us, he''s the leader of our pack- our family. On the other fang, he''s both my savior and tormentor. He''s my boss. My patron. My God, above all."


    "So, you are a pious person?"


    "Not a cleric or paladin, no. Not exactly."


    "Do not contradict yourself, Geri." I pointed at her. "You are one of his chosen followers- his Champion. Do tell: what are the aspects of his portfolio that most relate to you? To this place?"


    "Moonlight, the Domain I''m a part of," she first said; an expected thing, but each thing that followed made me more unsettled than the last. "And of the aspects that apply to all of his domains, there are Canines, of course, but also Nature itself; along with Freedom, Duality, Change, Curses, Creation, Destruction, and now," she grinned wider. "Dying."


    "Many aspects, there are. But not elves," I said. Pleaded. "Not Drow."


    "Not yet." She smiled, turning to gaze at some nonexistent thing, much to my unease. "Or, maybe never." She shrugged, turning back to me a moment later. "That all depends on what he sees down here."


    ''On what he sees down here,'' I internally mused. ''A drow¡­ raised as a man. No¡­ a half-drow, born and raised as a Child of the Nox; ancient beings who made the Mortal Plane, mortal. Beings who only cared for exploiting the wickedness in mortal souls, seeking to punish and torment them, and eventually consume them. A Night Devil. Devil, the hated, eternal enemy of demons.''


    I took a long look at Pharyl, a male. Then down to the quickly passing grounds of a lesser house, where many slaves toiled about endlessly. I imagined them as hordes of undead. Not mere skeletons and zombies, but souls given bodies of darkness that would die and rise and die and rise for as long as their summoner possessed mana - their summoner, the God of such a wondrous thing. Then, I remembered the stories about the Matron''s venture across the surface and his march through the halls above. The stories of the newest living lich of the Nox. The creations of destruction. The legendary weapons. The sun summoned to the surface to decimate an army, yet contained to preserve everything else.


    I thought of the cunning cruelty of the curse he inflicted on Geri and Freki and the punishment he imposed on them for breaking Death''s Rules - for killing their kin - being haunted by them in undeath. I thought about how he subjected those human children to Abbot Eiriol''s training in Nydorden Halls, only to have them return aged and evolved with parties of their own. Then, I thought of the plans for the one who accompanied and witnessed their evolution, He who was born to be Elg-Horr''s teacher, and I realized...


    ''The Matrons erred in bringing him here.''


    That realization - that thought was punctuated by a phantom dagger striking at my heart, shattering bits and pieces of my spirit. They fell helplessly into the roiling red seas occluding my mind, never to be seen again, remembered only by the bubbling anger rising around me like fire and prickling feeling dancing down my spine like a legion of spiders.


    The brute of a woman seemed amused by my reaction, yet returned to her window as if to taunt my simmering rage. Yet I was¡­ distracted, dismayed by my realization, and disgusted by it all the same.


    As time pressed on, it only grew worse. I began to sway and swoon as the blue lights surrounded faded to a crimson-black veil. The gentle hum of this vessel gave way to the skittering of spiders at all angles and orientations, seeming to spin an invisible web that left me motionless, haunted by the tauntings of my inner thoughts.


    ''Wrong.'' My mind shouted.


    The spiders skittered. ''The Matrons were right.''


    ''The Matrons are always right!'' The webs tightened.


    My body shuddered. ''They could never be wrong!''


    ''I am who is weak.'' I swooned.


    The veil bloomed. ''I am who is unworthy!'' And my spirit sank from the weight of my shackled dreams.


    No.


    Not my dreams, but thoughts imposed upon me by the Queen of Chaos spinning a new fate for me. Thoughts of taking my blade and felling this heretical beast before me, then turning it on myself for allowing such blasphemous thoughts to cross my mind. I knew¡­ I had sinned - doubted the Matrons and, as such, doubted the Queen herself. A simple act that would forever remove my prospects of becoming the paladin I dreamt of being - that I was fated to be. I became a pariah in an instant, that I knew. Hated by every follower of Lilith because of the webs she spun in our minds in response to the obvious fate I voiced in my mind - the place she could hear me most.


    At least Raki would see the glory of what was to come. As for me, I would come to meet the same fate as my brother. If I didn''t die first. And so I remained, falling deeper into despair as this strange vessel pulled me further and further away from the House. We rode around in an almost ambiguous direction. At least until I realized she was scouting the Falls. From floor to ceiling, wall to wall, she somehow mapped the Falls and the area beyond Spinner''s Gate using this vessel that seemed to steer itself through the air at great speed.


    That observation combined with the vessel itself served to clear the webs and crimson veil from my mind, if only a little. It was quite a comforting experience, being in a vessel built for one of my size. It was wider than a double carriage and more like a cave in the interior. Yet it could travel through the Darkworld and, most likely, the surface with ease. Not to mention, it was quite luxurious. The couch those I dragged with me were sitting on could have fit Geri and many of her beasts as well. And though the kitchen was small, it had all I would need to escape from this web of madness. Yet, there was more. Doors on the forward-most wall led to a bed chamber and an alcove of glimmering lights and windows displayed a myriad of information that I could and could not comprehend. But that hardly mattered. There was a trial ahead of us.


    "We must stop soon."


    "Why?"


    "The Fall''s silence is upon us," I said. "The day is to end."


    "So?"


    "Most creatures of this realm hunt by sound. When the Fall ceases, their senses will be at their highest. Must I spell it out for you?"


    "Very well." She sighed dejectedly, and with a flick of the finger, sent the vessel rising toward a stalactite.


    With no input from Geri, the vessel slowed to a halt next to the stalactite to envelop all but two of its tendrils around the stone just as the other pair wrapped around Pharryl. He stepped through moments later. Much to my ire, his lanky body slumped with trepidation and fear while the conflicted mural of his brutish visage scanned the interior for a place to sit. He elected to find a place between the beasts and relieve his stress by absentmindedly stroking its neck, only to stop upon noticing my stare. Yet the beast demanded he resume the action.


    "Will we be secure here?" I turned back to Geri, showing more trepidation than I would have cared to.


    "The squid has camouflage and no sound or smells will get out." She carelessly shrugged. "So, yeah." She then laughed. "I thought drow were supposed to be scary."


    "You think I am fearful? I think I am wise to not fight beasts should I not have to." I snarled back, then sought to seize my opportunity. "That said, I would like to see how you fight. I hear all the Destroyer''s companions are supernaturally strong."


    She rolled her eyes, sighing in apparent disgust.


    "If you have something to say, I suggest you say it, human."


    "What is fighting to you, drow? Glory? The greatest pleasure imaginable?" She asked and subsequently answered, disgust still evident in her voice. "Does your heart pound in excitement whenever you get the chance to draw blood? Have you ever even drawn blood?"


    The rage within me welled with the question, erupting in my fist, slamming the table. "Elven blood!" I sneered. "Of course! The blood of my enemies! Of course! The blood of any who oppose our Queen and her matrons! Of course!"


    "Were you born that way?" She asked with such calmness that I was forced back into my seat. "Is that a trait inherent to all dark elves, or was that drilled into your head as a child? How old were you when you first drew blood? Was it during combat or training? Was an elf from the surface, or was it one of your slaves? Was it one of your Queen''s most hated enemies or those attempting to foil the Matron''s schemes? Was it a gray dwarf? A deep gnome? Or was it another drow? Have you ever even left this c-"


    "SILENCE!" I shouted, and my voice seemed to echo for leagues despite us being enclosed in this comparatively tiny vessel. She was unthreatened, however. No, she was amused.


    "Adorable." She snickered. "You have no power here, Ruel Za''Darmondiel. Nor does your Queen. That aside, in your words, Amun is here to learn of his people. However, I can tell you right now that he''ll hate your snarky attitude and blind misandry. And he can''t help but change the things he doesn''t like."


    "Snarky?" The word ripped the webs from my thoughts, only for twice as many to replace them. "Tell me, Geri, is that what you think of me?" I sneered. I could not stand for this human''s insolence any longer.


    Slowly, she turned to loom her mass above me. But I was undeterred. I stood to meet her gaze, staring my crimson eyes straight into her blue orbs. Something she seemed to be amused by, as she lifted her head and smirked.


    "You have a biting voice, Ruel. It makes you sound like a bitch and, don''t get me wrong, you are. But neither of those things is your fault. You''ve been brainwashed into thinking you''re better than you actually are." She tapped her head before pointing her finger at me. "But I like you, so I''ll warn you. Don''t try that superiority bullshit with my brother, or with any of the Troupe, for that matter. Amun may be lenient, but the same can''t be said for the rest of us. If you cross a line, you''ll die. And I hope to Amun that you do. ''Cause I want you for myself."


    "I do beg your pardon?" I stepped closer. "You want me to be a slave to you? You would kill me!? The Hitgh Matron''s daughter!?!"


    "Oh, we don''t keep slaves, Ruel. We change people and raise the dead." Geri snarled. "I don''t give a shit who your mommy is and I don''t give a fuck what goddess you pray to. Fuck around and you''ll get bit. It''s that simple."


    "I dare you to try, beast!"

 393 - Real Recognizes Real

    Raki Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    I thought it strange how my sister followed that large brute of a woman. She did so with purpose, as did I with this Gerdian. Yet the way she stepped after her and her canines showed adoration. Reverence, even. To think she, the twin daughter of the most esteemed High Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel, parading after some human as if she were her idol. The very thought was disgusting.


    The one I chose to observe was just as large as her and us, at around 2 meters, although this one was much less brutish. She had smooth skin, kept nails, and a body almost like that of a drow paired with the deeply tanned skin, crimson-orange hair, and emerald eyes of Amazonia''s Gerdians. She was regal, for a human, with a headdress adorned in jewels, a long, almost hooked nose, and a simple yet elegant black coat with a blue tunic and bronze accents beneath. She was a good leader, for a human, commanding respect and the utmost professionalism in her lessors. There was even a surface elf in her midsts, unfearing of the likes of drow.


    These were all things worthy of respect. Yet even that wasn''t enough for me to even think of admiring such an inferior creature. Not even her divinity was. It was only something to study. Thus I followed her out of the house and into the air on a mana disk, watching her and her cohort glide as if they were swimming through the waters. They said little. Yet otherwise communicated using hand signals or sometimes sourceless shrill whistles to distribute themselves around the slums. Again, with a sense of purpose.


    "They move with a sense of direction," I commented, debasing myself with their surface language. "For what reason?"


    "That''s family business," this Gerdian- Blude, said. "If you wanna join the family, that''s another story. My little Rippa is in need of a mortal suit, after all."


    "Hmphf! Never." I spat. "I am only here to see what makes you worthy of witnessing the legacy of Elg-Horr."


    "Amun, you mean." She derisively huffed. "Or do you think he won''t be able to hear you if you don''t say his name?"


    I began to reply when waves of deep blue energy seeping across the Falls demanded my eyes, but little else. There was no sense of power and little emotion in this mana. Only light spread through the Falls, making subtle but drastic changes to the environment before it returned to its source, somewhere in the depths of our House. Many drow of the slums had not even noticed it. Only the aftereffects. The shifting of stone and the cascades of dust falling from the walls as the mushroom forests of our home withered and fell, never to rise again. Sources of amusement for the one called Blude.


    "Seems like someone pissed Iris off." She laughed.


    Iris. I remembered her as the self-proclaimed ''daughter'' of Amun. While she appeared to be nothing more than a human girl, the tales from above described a body as hard as metal, paired with the fearlessness and stamina of the undead. Along with this one, she was given basic monastic training by Abbot Eiriol a short time ago. Between then and now, they aged by several years and went through the evolution ritual. Now, she had interchangeable limbs that could transition seamlessly like we saw when she appeared. All those things pointed toward her being truly powerful, yet she was still a human and thus was made powerful by Amun- a trait I was beginning to disdain.


    Human. Halflings. Even goblins. He was uncaring about who met his touch. Except, it seemed, for drow; his own kind.


    Their presence was reminiscent of the tales of legend from before the Rending- the era of the Gods roaming the Mortal Plane freely. It was said their mere presence changed reality itself. Sometimes, in ways mortals couldn''t perceive, but oft in ways that devastated them. That led to the decision among the Gods that eventually led to the Rending and ended with our Goddess and others being banished to their realms indefinitely; making them dependent on faith and the actions of their faithful. And now, after all this time, Amun of the Nox, Telin''s Eternal Champion, was here, walking around the Mortal Plane freely; gifting his power to any lesser creature who cross his path.


    How disappointing.


    "He found us." I turned into those emerald eyes, wearing a subconscious scowl I chose to feed. Yet she continued with a gaze as still as the waters pooled around Spinner''s Gate. "He noticed us from on high. Us and something within us even he couldn''t describe. All we know is that we were broken. All of us had gone mad or otherwise suffered from the harsh reality we call life, just like him. So, he came to us out of the blue- out of nowhere."


    "Do not insult my intelligence, Gerdian. I know what ''appearing from the blue'' means." I sneered. "And do not twist your past into something that befits your station. He pitied you. A lesser creature, begging to become more like so many of your kind."


    "If that''s true, then the irony of your station eludes you, little drow."Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    "I do beg your pardon?" I stepped toward her, looking her eye to eye.


    "Funny thing, that. I was born in fourteen eighty-two. In the eyes of mortals, I''m still nine years old. But¡­ just a few months ago, I went to Amun''s divine realm to grow the fuck up. While you drow were here in these Falls, managing your slaves while your Matrons panicked over Amun''s departure and schemed about his return, I was creating an empire- a domain you can''t begin to comprehend. Six years, I spent in that realm, and I emerged a goddess. And then¡­ well," she huffed in amusement. "History repeated. I returned to Nydorden Halls, and like Amun, I noticed a little drow from above. I noticed her and something within her that even I can''t describe. Something I saw in myself, perhaps. It matters not. For now, I''ve come out of the blue- out of nowhere, to pity a lesser creature begging to become more like so many of her kind.


    "But this filthy fucking mouth!" She erupted with such speed I could not track her movements until a moment later when my mouth flared in pain from her rings grinding and crushing my jaws. "This mouth of yours is too dirty, Raki!" she growled, and I felt my feet release from the ground, tearing away the webs meant to keep them in place. "I don''t like dirty, Raki. So, we''re gonna have to clean you up a bit."


    "I am the High Matron''s daughter!" I growled, pulling arcana into and around my legs as I kicked and heeled her face and neck, blasting, slashing, and pummeling her to no avail.


    Bloodied and bruised, she endured in a way that I could not, tightening her grip around my jaw with each blow against her dense hide.


    "You wouldn''t dare!"


    With a maw filled with teeth as blood red as her eyes, Blude pulled my ear to her lips and snarled like some vicious beast. "Etyl failed you as a mother, for she did not teach you what happens when you disrespect a matriarch. Nor will she care what happens to you, Raki."


    With a feral sneer, her fist clenched as if my jaw had never been in her grasp. In turn, I felt more than I ever thought a body could feel. My body fell limp, opening me up to the monstrous strength of her flurry of blows; blows as calculated and precise as those given by us. Her first punch pulverized my ribs and threw me away from her, ripping my jaw from my face before I bounced against the wall. I could hardly see her toss the remains of my mouth aside and appear before me in the next instant, breaking my arms with well-placed kicks to hinder my casting and crippling my knees with her absurd grip once I tried to flee, leaving only my face and body as viable targets.


    My vision dulled amidst the onslaught. All I smelled or tasted was metal- blood. All I felt was a searing pain that rattled in my skull every time my body bounced or slammed against the stone. It numbed as cold drops befell my body, yet intensified when beautiful structures illuminated by Faerie Flames came into focus; bringing about waves of shame and humiliation and sinful thoughts. Sinful because, deep down, I knew them to be true.


    No one would come to my aid. Not my mother and certainly not our Queen. To have been so easily defeated by a human- even one of the Elven Devil''s Troupe; such news would vibrate down the web faster than the throes of any prey. The Matron would mar me. Labeled a disgrace like Mala but with a worse sin, for I had lived after my defeat, and I had no such abilities to exploit; only a responsibility to manage the chore slaves, like Ruel and her working slaves; the most expendable station, other than a male.


    I just wanted her to kill me, for that was what Lilith demanded of my failure.


    I needed her to... until I started dying.


    ***


    Chako Blude.


    22nd of Quintetas, 1492.


    Main Cephalothorax Chamber, Zimysta Falls. Shujen Kingdom Dark Sky. Depth: 242,969 km.


    03:31


    ***


    "What do you think, ladies?" I trilled to those behind me as I took another look down at the dangling calf in my grasp, giving her ankle a little squeeze to ensure she hadn''t drowned in her blood before looking ahead to the gates at the top of the Falls.


    To my surprise, the drow standing guard at the entrance didn''t move or speak as I swam past, dragging her like a sack of potatoes. On the contrary, they did their utmost to avert their gaze, even going as far as casting clouds of darkness around themselves to remove the problem from their sight.


    It was just like Etan said. There was another set of twins in his family. His baby sisters, Raki and Ruel Za''Darmondiel. Both were extensively trained by their brothers and father in all things might and magic, yet had zero combat experience and more, had virtually no tolerance for pain. Both were industrious perfectionists who governed the House''s slaves, but unlike her sister, Raki was reserved by nature. She was quiet and observant but wasn''t shy when it came to asking questions or speaking her mind. Combined with her upbringing, that made her extremely judgmental, yet much less abrasive than her sister. Quoting him, ''She has a way with words that can often be rude.'' Her sense of superiority, however, was a trait common in all elves; drow, and others. Even Etan had it, to a certain extent. Not to mention, Amun.


    Fortunately for her, these were all traits needed by the mafia.


    Fortunately for me, I got the drop on her.


    "I like her. She''s got some bite." Sam whistled in our family tongue- the songs of orcas, followed by Redd.


    "Rippa does need a suit. Baby Pyrate too. Either way, she''ll need some work before she swims with us."


    "My thoughts exactly. Although, Pyrate needs another year, and Rippa fits her perfectly." I grinned, pausing above the drink we arrived at to pull the little drow close and infuse my voice with power. "Raki Za''Darmondiel. For you, I unplug the drain leading to my divine sea, where my child, Rippa, awaits. Whether you sink or swim is your choice. But... we both know what decision you''ll make. So prepare for your induction into the Orcinus Mafia."


    After adjusting to leave a clear view for the lingering eyes, I leaned in to take a wide bite out of Raki''s stomach, and though such an act imbued the Moontouched curse, it was only the first step in her induction- her fusion with the divine sky orca.


    Taking my time, I ripped her clothes away before digging my nails into her wound, enjoying her labored screams while my hand wove through her slimy intestines and pushed around her stomach, eventually finding the thin edge of the prized organ; our favorite food: liver. It was released from her body with an easy tug, and she was thrown into the drink below with a distant splash. For only the prized organ was to receive the rich blue energy pouring from my spirit before it too was tossed, chased by the divine right of my words echoing to my heaven.


    "Come, Rippa!"

 394 - Raki, the Rippa

    Raki Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    I heard her words as clearly as one would hear a spider skittering over stone, yet my ears were rendered mute by the wails of pain, so loud and haunting.


    ''Sink or swim.''


    Although I was unfamiliar with such a phrase, it did not take long to discern its meaning. The method, however, was another story.


    Her bite was like a venom both warm and cold to my flesh. Cold in the sense of my bones becoming rigid, cracking and reforming under the immense pressure of her jaws while my flesh burned and expanded beyond its limits from the venom she injected into me. The pain of a stab increased those sensations tenfold. The feeling of a hand writhing inside my innards increased it by a thousand, leaving me lost in an infinite expanse of blue water, bubbling and rushing to fill my lungs with the tepid waters of the abyss.


    I was not fated to die in such a way.


    I refused to die in this way, just as her bitter voice said. And so, I struggled, and it was those throes that sealed my pact, signaling the great black and white behemoth to appear from that nightly blue expanse, rushing with its maw wide to devour me wholly and disappear the heat and cold; the pain, the pressure; the water in my lungs, and the abyssal sea occluding my mind. Gone in an instant and replaced with a comfort I never knew before; a bodily warmth and a thalassic radiance against a harsh, cold reality.


    I was home; I realized, inside of Rippa, just as Rippa was inside of me.


    Rippa.


    I knew not how I was aware of that name, only that it sounded so nice alongside mine. Rippa Raki. Raki, the Rippa. The way it rolled off the tongue was¡­ savory, and yet sweet. Splendid. Almost¡­ ferrous. Like¡­


    I came to my senses to see my hands coated crimson, my mouth covered in a viscous fluid that dripped onto my arms and the scraps of dark, bloody meat straddling them. What was worse, the taste was greater than anything I''d sampled before.


    I took another bite or two to gather my wits and looked around to find I was in a grand hall of basalt and bronze pillars and arches, supporting vast crystalline walls that suffused the room in midnight blue light. Expansive, and yet barren of anything but the table I sat before and the several faces I both knew and had never seen before.


    "Welcome to the Orcinus Mafia, Raki Rippa." Blude closed her emerald eyes and lowered her head respectfully.


    Slowly, I set my platter of liver down and cleaned myself as best as possible, feeling around for any trace of Zimysta or the life I had once known before meeting her eyes once more. "Where am I?"


    "You''ve died and gone to heaven." The tallest and lankiest of them- Sam snickered.


    "I am in no mood for jests, Sam," I said calmly. More calm than I would have been before.


    "Only a partial jest." She gestured around the spacious hall. "This isn''t heaven. It''s your home."


    "You disrespected the Prime Matriarch." The other one- Redd said. "You were punished for that. But for those dealing with the Elven Devil''s Troupe, death is but a door, and you''ve walked through it."


    "I am your undying slave, then?"


    Blude''s amiable, and yet proud grin flipped into a scowl. "Most certainly not." She scoffed. "Just like you chose to disrespect me, you chose to take this new life and join my Pod of Pods instead of dying. If you want to renege, I can pry Rippa''s soul from yours and leave you dead in the water."


    "Quite the choice indeed." I huffed, slightly amused by the cruelty.


    "You can always pray to your spider to help you." The emerald-eyed mastermind snickered at the missing brooch around my neck. Yet, no matter how much I wanted to get angry, I could not.


    "I¡­ no longer feel her."


    "Yeah¡­" Blude sighed. "Makes you wonder if she was truly there to begin with. Especially once you notice what''s in there now."


    I could feel what she was speaking of. Not just power within me or the presence of the divine beings around me. I could see the memories. Memories of being young in a vast sea, trailing the mirror of this woman before me- Chako, Rippa''s mother. Memories of being captured and contained in a sea of darkness, being changed by that darkness, and peering through the shadows to see the light that was Amun, changing the realms around him wherever he went. Scheming to fulfill his ambitions, just as we Drow did, but with the obsessive attention to detail shown only by devils; ambitions that lay centuries or millennia ahead, and for things we mortals of this plane couldn''t begin to fathom.


    That brought about something worrying, however; The being born into this cruel reality at my side.


    "If you''re worried about Ruel, don''t be," Blude said, gesturing to a scrying mirror that showcased my sister with that large woman and her canines; creatures I now knew to be celestials like Geri in the same bestial shape I could take up; only of a different species, and of a different nature. I needed no further explanations, for I knew their meeting would be virtually identical to mine, thus I turned my mind toward the most pressing matter.


    "How do you know her name?" I asked, half-knowing the answer.


    "Your brother told us," Blude offhandedly admitted, waving her arm to release a field of scrying bubbles; the most prominent of them being the sight of Abbot Eiriol eating a strange mushroom and another of Etan, chained and shackled in a red pit I''d only heard tales of. "I''m sure you know about Abbot Eiriol telling Amun that the First Son was born to be the Eternal Champion''s teacher," she continued. "What you don''t know is that he didn''t agree without conditions. Amun''s condition was that your brother was to teach us and his legions as well, and he agreed to travel and learn from the greater realms to make the legions, in his words, ''worthy of serving the Eternal Champion.'' And so, your brother accompanied us on our journey across the Peninsula to recruit the rest of the Troupe. That is to say, he became one of us, only different. He''s the Eternal Champion''s Champion, the Abyssal Regent.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    "And so, we know all that he knows about this place. We know of the Eight Eyes, the Legs, and their rules. The 8th House of Jusztiir raids the surface the most and has the most goblin slaves. The 7th House of Yril''Lysaen has demonic blood in their veins. The 6th House of Abaeir are the keepers of the Great Woven Yards, filled with untapped resources and all the spiders one could dream of. The 5th House of Hun''ana has the largest industry. House Illistyn, the 4th House, are archivists- record keepers. The 3rd House of Noqutyl has the most witches and wizards. House Casia-Psellus is the wealthiest, with the most trade agreements. House Za''Darmondiel is the eldest in all the realms, descended from the Goddess herself.


    "We know of the first daughter, High Priestess Nadra, and her children, all priestesses and monks. The same goes for the second daughter, Yela, except her second daughter, Daulery." She pointed, bringing to bear a scrying bubble showing the moments preceding that blue wave of silent death. "We even know of your older sister, Mala, and the anger she holds within her for having her power exploited by your mother. We know of the intellectual fourth daughter, Ilar, and her brood of artificers, monks, and rogues. We know of you, the twins, Raki and Ruel; paladins in training who manage the domestic and worker slaves, respectively. We know of Eban, the Heart Keeper, an archmage who is bitter because he''s only recognized as a witch. We know of ''Two-Heart'' and we know of Selph. And we have for quite some time. "We''ve had our eyes on you ever since. I''ve had my eye on you ever since, Raki. And though I planned for it, I hoped we would make it here under different circumstances."


    "The circumstance of our meeting are irrelevant now," I said. "We are here. I only care that my sister avoids whatever fate is in store for Zimysta Falls."


    For the first time since I met her, Blude genuinely smiled as she held out her hand. "That was the condition your brother gave Amun before he joined- that we help him free his family from this pit of chaos; so that you may witness Amun''s march across the Mortal Plane alongside him. Your sister is fine, I give you my word. Now come. Allow me to tell you of your second family."


    With those words, I was guided through this maze of basalt and bronze via swimming- an effect of this blessed curse inflicted on me. If I choose, water could become like air and air like water. When submerged, I could breathe and not get wet while in the air I could kick and pull myself through space; easily done but with not as much fluidity as they- the Orcinus Mafia; my¡­ sisters.


    The further we went, the more I realized the true scale of this empty complex- Rippa''s body-turned undying machine. She now existed as a part of me and I within her, reconstructed into a vessel capable of traversing any realm''s waters in luxury. In a way, it was much like the caverns of the Darkworld. Rooms and pathways were formless, following natural curves and slopes dictated by veins and arteries rather than the sporadic sprawl of water and magma, with as much of a vertical orientation as a horizontal one due to the incredible volumes of stone and glass borne from blubber and muscle. The spine was made into a grand expressway running the length of the body, with moving staircases and lifts leading down the ribs to the various caverns born from the organs, now hollowed and layered to create vast complexes and annexes.


    I knew not what to fill such a sacred space with. Not until I was brought to what used to be the brain of this divine creature, accessed via a vaulted door of smooth bronze that stood to the ceiling. Even being stronger than male drow, I believed it an impossible task; therein brought a moment of surprise when the door bulged with the slightest touch, opening what I assumed to be a throne room. Vast windows, rounded as a shield looked down on an elaborate throne set before a desk of finely crafted wood, casting the deep haze of the blue abyss onto the wide space of couches, vacant shelves, and black tiles flickering the dances of the faerie fireplace; all built within the brain of the many-winged complex that was my new house. House Raki.


    "We of the Orcinus Mafia have many faces, depending on the context. In the context of our station in Amun''s pantheon, we are the divine rulers of the World Seas above; and once we conquer them, on this Mortal Plane." Blude proclaimed once I settled into my throne and clasped my hands across the desk. "In the context of the Legio Noctis and the Empire of Eotrom, we are in charge of recreation, entertainment, sports, and tourism- REST. As a business, we''re a group of pleasure-providing professionals with a rogue side. Among the do-gooders of the surface, each Matriarch you see before you is a professional in a different field- a different branch of the Grand Hadal Enterprise, dwelling within their Umas. To those more nefarious types and those out at sea, we are known, but largely unseen, as the Orcinus Mafia."


    "I see." I nodded. In hindsight, it was obvious, considering it was what Amun had done on the surface with his chaotic tales of goodness. The perfect mask for a lawfully villainous rogue.


    "But there''s more to it than that. It comes in two parts, you see," Blude explained. "I build recreational facilities in the waters of these realms for the public. I also give passes to the downtrodden in secret, granting them temporary entry and limited access to our Grand Hadal Suites. We clean ''em up free of charge, teach ''em a few skills or trades, give ''em a chance to make some coin- get ''em on their feet, then send ''em on their way. That''s my front, at least. Within my Uma are the Grand Hadal Estates- luxury safe houses built for the esteemed rogues and ne''er-do-wells of the Legions and abroad. The other Matriarchs provide services for both sides."


    "Food, for example." Sam gestured to herself. "Being an esteemed chef can give you access to many places; dockyards, markets, auctions, royal courts, even. What''s more, being a chef means that once I set up a kitchen, I''ll be expected to receive regular shipments. That makes smuggling all too easy."


    "To that end." Blude stepped forward to slap a set of folded clothes onto the table and poke the small stack of parchment on top. "I have an idea as to your occupation. In the end, however, it''s your choice to make."


    "The School of Exemplary Service." I read curiously.


    "You trained the domestic slaves of House Za''Darmondiel. We Eomen do not keep slaves, but your experience and nature would be perfect to create the finest maids and butlers seen by the realms. Maids and butlers of a dual nature, employed by Amun''s Legions and those they meet. Use your standards to create beings worthy of serving Amun and his many followers; not because they are coerced to but because they want to. Make them into masters of subterfuge capable of waging silent wars for the Orcinus Mafia. Be they your former slaves or existing family, I don''t care who. Through either life or death, recruit them to your cause and free them from this pit. But only if you wish.


    "You put this on and the agreement is made- same as when Amun came to us." She poked the clothes with a slim finger. "It is both a devil''s deal and a warlock''s pact. You''ll become a Prime Matriarch of this family. A Divine Sorceress. What you become on top of that is your choice. But if you want to see Amun change these realms with your own eyes, he requires you to become both an artificer and a witch. In this, he will teach you."


    Again, I thought of my sister, yet I took them without hesitation. I already made my choice when I swam. Nothing has changed since. I was not fated to die in such a way. Not with this second and first chance- the only chance I had to continue living and perhaps escape from this maddening pit of webs I never dared to question.


    "Now then, Rippa, let''s talk about what''s in store for the Falls of Zimysta."

 395 - Hooked

    Ruel Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    "I dare you to try, beast!"


    Snarling, I reached for my hips and looked to my lessors to do the same, only to feel a growing pressure wrapping around my waist before I was violently pulled toward the wall. Cursing loudly, I gathered the rich arcana around my body to brace but felt no impact, having been thrown into the caverns by the many tendrils of this¡­ thing.


    I only saw unfamiliar territory as I tumbled through the air and cushioned my fall with a brace of arcana until I landed gently on the shores of a great river. The great river that fed Zimysta Falls- now silent and still.


    I looked up to see that beast of a woman floating before her squid squealer. Pharryl, the traitor, only stared at me in disbelief before it flew off in a burst of gelid wind. Nhildia and Qiryyn were no different, I was sure, refusing to challenge the beasts within in the hopes of running away from our Queen, the Demon Spider.


    The very thought subsumed me within a roiling storm of red. razored webs focused around the large woman, falling to land with a boom that echoed in tune with her audacious steps toward me.


    "Come on!" She stopped short of the shore to crouch low, raising her hands like claws. "Let''s see what you got."


    Relying on my instincts and training, I allowed the crimson webs roiling in my mind to release their fury, unsheathing my weapons and engaging without delay.


    Threading arcana into a web, I shot it down my scimitar to cast a line at the far wall and reeled myself toward this beast while my mind worked to form a wall of arcana behind her, tilting her neck closer to the crossing points of my scimitars at the last moment.


    While my blades struck true, so did her claws, reaching over her shoulder to slice into my arm with a burning cold that I only noticed upon landing. It had nearly been severed, hanging on by a thread soaked thick with my ichor, but I did not let it deter me. My arcana went to work at once, pulling my severed hand back onto my wrist, where an arcane needle was ready and waiting to stitch it back together.


    By the time I faced her, my hand was once again flexing around its scimitar, pointing at the bestial human on the far side of the river.


    "Impressive witchcraft!" Geri snickered, lifting her chin to show the hardly perceptible wounds sealing over on its own


    Sneering, I readied myself properly, casting my arcane veil, bolstering my flesh, and infusing my weapons with the rich arcana spread around us. Only then did I engage, erupting in a slashing dance that sent bladed projections of arcana at the quickly reacting human, countering with ethereal claws of frosted vines wreathed around her arms.


    My dance continued until she found a break in the rhythm. A switch up on my part, meant to alter the attacking angle, was countered by a rising double slash before she reversed her spin and punched the ground. Her great strength released a rolling wave of ice and stone, chased by those foul vines of frost, freezing everything in their path as they sought my soul.


    A geyser of arcana lifted me above the frozen lake, where a blade''s edge of focus saw me levitate above the now-frozen river. Sheathing my weapons, I quickly withdrew my hand crossbow, pouring arcana through it as I put it into action, poisoning, accelerating, and rotating the quarrels to their limits to spread the ingrained web spells within as far as possible.


    Seeming to be caught by surprise at the arcane webs sprawling in the air above her, dripping green with the foulest toxins, the beast raised her arms to block and was surprised more to find herself shot and sliced into by the webs grounding her while they continued twisting, constricting her form as the poison acted against her spirit. I did not wait, webbing my hand crossbow to dangle nearby before quickly drawing my scimitars into a double vertical cross. Twin crescent streaks of arcana projected from my blades and scattered into countless blue fragments as my blades wound around to clang against each other.


    Geri''s form, trapped within that green and crimson web, shone a bright blue before her form turned into a cloud of snow and billowed to the side at great speed, reforming moments later with a hand crossbow made from those icy roots firing at me rapidly.


    The cowardice.


    I raised my weapons to shoulder height, letting my arcana flow along with this crimson rage. "Do not underestimate me, human!" I thrust at her, sending one of those shattered blue blades to fell this fleeing beast. "I know you''ve heard the legends of elves - of Drow being the strongest this Mortal Plane has to offer!"


    I thrust out projections again, and again and again, imbuing my spells with all things acid, lightning, fire, and more against this beast while using the potent arcana around us to push and pull myself away from her javelins and boulders of ice and snow. Several of my marks missed and so did hers, yet only I guided the strays back to their target. Still, some were deflected. Those that hit had their magical attributes negated or weakened by her mana veil, but the bolts penetrated all the same, creating a blue-white form that only grew more red as the battle pressed on. Yet, for my sake, I knew she could not keep fleeing.


    Intent on showing her what combat against drow was truly like, I spread my will across this vast cavern to grasp onto the arcana within, concentrating more on the flowing waters to disturb and uplift them with a single motion.


    A toss of my hands sent it all into chaos. Waters long since undisturbed shot to the ceiling as if lifted by a great geyser. Yet it had a purpose. The countless droplets of the scattered deluge shifted and soared down and around toward Geri, who reacted in an all too predictable way.


    A predacious grin split my face as the arcana I''d gathered sank into spiraling droplets, transmuting them from spinning globules of clear water to shimmering points of sharp steel. My fingers shook giddily as my will spread among them, demanding the closest droplet to this beast called Geri to herald all those to follow.


    The arcane steel rain fell heartily, looming over her head like a cloud of mind spores no matter where she attempted to flee, yet she counterattacked amidst the onslaught all the same, releasing massive boulders of icy vines and frosted javelins at a frustrating pace.


    While they hindered my attempts at self-witchcraft, they did not render me unable. Geri, on the other hand, emerged from the attack lacerated from head to toe and soaked in blood, although I was aware that was superficial. Our exchange earlier told me I would need to maintain my momentum if I was to kill her. Her predatory eyes, on the other hand, told me she was impressed, and that I had struck a nerve.


    She glared at me with those blue bestial eyes as she haunched forward, resting her weight onto her hands like the beast she was, even going as far as to snarl as those icy roots overcame her visage, weaving over her head to elongate her mouth into something more befitting of her spirit. Her deep blue fangs dripped something as feral as the grunts coming from her enlarging frame, spreading icy roots and vines of the same hue as the shaggy moss spreading over her from head to clawed toe.


    Reeling back, the furry beast-woman stood twice my height to howl out a shockwave of blisteringly cold arcana of an unfamiliar nature before her visage shifted and disappeared, leaving the shimmering visage of her afterimage before the ground beneath her shattered, and her image disappeared.


    All I could sense before I pulled more arcana into my eyes, ears, nose, and skin was an approaching vortex of ice and snow. Then I saw this¡­ thing, pouncing on all fours with glowing blue claws readying for my neck.


    Undeterred, I bolstered myself to my limits, readied arcana into my scimitars, and bounded, equally shattering the stone beneath me to match the beast''s speed and surpass her strike twofold.


    Pushing forward into her range, I scribbled my scimitars across her stomach before stomping into a dive. My momentum lifted me from the ground and I spun, deftly weaving through the glowing white edge of her claws while my arcana, reversed in its polarity, radiated from my blades as they lashed behind me, slicing through this beast''s blizzard. I landed in a roll, intent on distancing myself beneath the cover of her sundered blizzard. Yet, something touched me before I could get out of reach.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    It was a wave of that strange arcana; I was sure. It came from the wake of her attack, cast toward my back. Yet, a sinking cold spread through my hands before me. I quickly shook the infectious arcana away as I bounded what I thought to be a fair distance away, only to find myself encompassed in a darkness I''d never experienced before.


    It was silent. Eerily so, for it was not entirely quiet. Strange¡­ squawks, huffs, and steps echoed from the same snow compressed beneath my feet, rising as high as my knees. I could see the browns of strange, giant mushroom-things with branches of greenery rather than bioluminescent caps; they stretched into the far distance, yet seemed to go only so far.


    My guard rose to an all-time high as those things in the background moved to the forefront, promoting themselves to concerning grunts, snarls, and growls I struggled to locate. The cold was creeping on me, yet my instincts told me not to warm myself or attempt to keep moving. So instead, I sought a different angle.


    Withdrawing my arcana between my palms, I compressed and condensed it, drastically increasing its density before slowly expanding it around me, forming a concentrated domain - a barrier to push away this eldritch night, but only so much. Only the area within a meter returned to the grays of the cavern I recognized, so I pushed harder, increasing my domain to 3 meters, then 5. Then 10, and 20, and on at an exponential rate that made me believe I''d succeeded, only to look down to see not the grays of the cavern I recognized, but a field of strange mushrooms.


    They were tiny things. Green and slim on their trunks, with faces of bright colors and soft petals lining their rims. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, in countless shapes and colors. There was one unlike the others, though. Large. Blue; covered in that strange¡­ moss.


    I lunged back at once, feeling the heat of embarrassment, the weight of shame, simmering rage, nauseous disgust, and a dozen other things welling within me as this half-beast ascended from her illusory field like a geyser dislodging a clawed fist of a boulder. A fist that broke everything; my body, sent flying; along with my holy symbol - my brooch of the Spider, hunted by this beast leaping after me to rip it from my body and destroy with a deathly grip of her strange arcana.


    Before I could act- before we even began to fall, she wrapped her massive arms around my frame and squeezed, screaming louder than my cracking bones as her gaping maw opened wide to¡­ blow.


    Blow and whisper. "Spring Breeze."


    Water.


    I only felt water, running off my body as if I stood beneath the Falls. I thought I had been frozen and was just now melting to find I''d been transported to that same snowy field of giant brown mushrooms, now illuminated by the silver-blue sphere glowing gently above.


    "What-"


    My words cut short as I looked up to see Geri and realized my mind was clear. The melting ice had washed the crimson webs from my mind. For the first time in my life, my mind was purely mine. Unbiased. Unburdened. Unwatched by those who sought to control my fate. And so I stood to face the one before me. Or rather, the ones standing behind Geri in this field of... flowers; Nhildia, Qiryyn, and Pharryl, finding their eyes no longer holding traces of red but yellows and greens instead.


    "I have sinned," I explained to both them and Geri. "In my mind, I admitted the Matrons erred in bringing El-" I sighed. "In bringing Amun here - a simple act that lost me her favor before I ever even found it. My mind was¡­ the webs¡­ I was so¡­ furious. But now." I sighed, turning to the hulking woman. "My mind is clear. My fate is proudly my own, though I may be¡­ Dublolth.


    "Traitor." I met her eyes.


    "Nice to finally meet you, Ruel Za''Darmondiel, Nhildia, Qiryyn, Pharryl." Geri smiled, seating herself atop a rock that seemingly appeared from nowhere. I followed after she gestured for me to join her, followed by the others. For once, I paid Pharryl no mind as he sat on my level. Neither did Geri pay that any mind as she continued. "I am Geri, Huntress and Matriarch of the Winter Wolf Conclave. That was a hell of a fight."


    "Winter wolf?" I couldn''t help but ask. Yet all I got in response was the sound of cracking ice.


    I turned toward the source at once, finding clumps of frosted vines and icy¡­ flowers growing and shifting into vague shapes until they eventually decayed to reveal six females of varying species. Creatures I oversaw as slaves. A dwarf and a deep gnome, the former being the beast Pharyl was petting before our fight, laughed in his face when he realized her true nature. The others were creatures I would have hated just moments ago - humans and a Strifling, who reached into the snow to hand out wine and cuts of meat I begrudgingly accepted.


    "Lemeia, is my name. I''m the Manager of the Winter Wolf Racing League." She said, dipping her midnight blue horns in greeting. Quite marvelously, she boasted the same features as she did as a beast, with deep, blue-black skin and horns paired with blue sclera and black irises. Yet, the fine, flashy robes of a bard covered her frame, born from seemingly from the ice itself.


    The same was true for the others, who introduced themselves in turn. The other bard, a tan-skinned human named Katheryn, called herself the Spring Witch Comet Service''s Administrator. The third bard- the deep gnome Pharyl had been stroking, called herself Lula, Sponsor of Blue Peak, yet had the same green eyes as Katheryn, my drow, and perhaps me. On the contrary, the short canine without the tail was a halfling dressed in the scant leathers of a barbarian. Norsh, Queen of Castle Wintercrest, she called herself. What was more curious were the two clerics; a dwarf, and a human, wearing the same skull of gears and screws seen around the neck of Iris.


    Rhonda, the human''s name was. A¡­ ''Mechanical Engineer'' and the Blue Steel Motor Company''s Foreman. On the other blade, the dwarf was named Penny, a cleric of the World Weaver, with a symbol of a sphere broken in half, its remnants leaving a cone of boulders trailing beneath it.


    "What did you do to us?" I finally managed to ask. "Did you¡­ make us¡­ like you?"


    "Not quite." The large woman giggled. "Winter is only half of my power. The other half is Spring. Not just the power of nature, warmth, and fertility, but youth, air, water, and light. In a sense, Spring Breeze makes something infantile; in this case, your minds. It removed all that shit inside your spirits - the crimson webs; the brainwashing and biases. It''s almost as if you''d been born anew. You are free."


    "Why?" I asked next. "You could have simply killed me. The way you spoke made it clear you cared not for the consequences."


    "Don''t get me wrong, you''re still dying on the ground of that cavern. I''m only giving you the choice to step through Death''s door and be reborn like the rest of us. As for why?" She huffed, shrugging as if it were a simple matter. "This is what your brother wanted. He didn''t want to be the only one to become an integral part of this glorious thing we''re doing. And he didn''t want us to free just you, nor just Raki or Eban; Two-Heart or Selph, he wants to free every drow who wants to cast aside the Spider but either can''t or won''t."


    "So then I am to serve beneath you? Not my brother? Not Amun? That''s what you had planned for us- for me?"


    "It''s a bit of both." She so charmingly explained. "This is the power you''re most suited for. In the coming years, though, Amun will be acting on his own. We''ll go to new realms together, of course, but we''ll operate in different countries or even continents most of time. We''re as close as one gets to walking next to him, other than the Imperators of his Legions. When he wars, however, it''ll be a different story. Basically, you''ll live and explore with me but will report to him for his... militant ends. As for your brother, well¡­ you''re not an astral monk. You have spent years in the caverns and tunnels with the slaves and riding lizards, though. You have some traits required of a ranger, and you''ve been training to be a paladin."


    "And those are things you can use?"


    "I don''t use people, Ruel." She said flatly, yet with hints of disgust. "You being a ranger qualifies you to join my conclave. Your being a paladin qualifies you to command my Blue Force. I want to recruit you."


    Rather than explain, she tapped at a table that appeared from the snow, causing the flat surface to pull apart and reveal a glistening window that blinked to life. In it, I saw a fleet of the same¡­ Squid Squealers, and many vessels just like it. Some were what I assumed to be those eggs once they were hatched. A conical creature with large eyes and many tendrils floating behind it. Before it were rows upon rows of things that matched the description of birds. Or at least bats. And yet, there were more. Canines longer than violet worms. Small, furry things with thick legs, a haunched posture, and tall ears. Massive, meandering lizards. Frogs the size of wagons. Scorpions the size of warehouses.


    Spiders the size of Houses.


    I began to question what I was seeing when the image blinked, showcasing these things in action. I watched in awe; the canines running through the forest, then pulling in their limbs to reform them into wheels to continue on the road of a bright realm. Yet that was simply the beginning. These¡­ Umas could travel through the air, ice, and solid stone, all while keeping the rider in a cave-like structure. And they could be quite powerful, indeed.


    "You¡­ created these?" I finally managed to ask.


    "Amun''s vassal, Edward Pascal, invented horseless carriages for the realms and the Umas for the Legions. He then passed the art on to us. We improved upon it and made these." She tapped at the screen before gesturing to her companions. "As you saw, we use them for recon. We''re Ranging Warlocks, after all, but we also run a business as both Druidic Witches and Artificers, mixed with other things."


    "I see." I slowly nodded. "So then, I assume you intend for me to¡­ mix my skills with the learnings of an artificer to command this fleet? Your use of the word ''Force'' and my supposed role pursuing Amun''s militant ends makes me believe its purpose is war."


    "That it is." She nodded firmly.


    "And what of them? I motioned behind me. "I am responsible for them still."


    "Whether they join is ultimately up to them, but they''ll still be your subordinates if they do. Being in command of my military unit, you''ll be the ones to report to Amun when he needs something done, as I said earlier."


    "And you will take me away from this place like Etan? You will remove me from the fate they would inflict on me for losing the Spider''s favor- on us?"


    "After we change this place." Geri nodded. "You have my word."


    "I care not about the Falls or how it is changed." I rolled my eyes. "I only care about one person."


    "As I said." She tapped at the window, now showing Blude speaking with my twin, dressed in an exotically elegant black and white tunic with gold, or perhaps bronze accents just like the women surrounding her. "You don''t have to worry about Raki. This is what we came here to do."


    "But at what cost?" I asked and had to confirm just seconds later. "Just one drooly bite? Then, I bite them? And no matter if we live or die, we¡­ change. Into celestials?"


    "Mhmm." The dragoness nodded, pausing her fangs around my exposed hand. "But we don''t do so to just anyone. Only those who are worthy."

 396 - F Lines

    Bazra Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    Never did we think the prince of Shujen would one day walk around the Falls of Zimysta, much less be slain and reborn by the hand of Amun. Not Elg-Horr. A creator and a destroyer.


    True to that name, he created the mightiest human my eyes ever settled on. Two meters of golden skin, swaying black hair, and feral orange eyes covered in the fur of the great celestial beast who accompanied Amun''s first arrival at Nydorden Halls. The very beast said to have been melded with his soul now had its skull resting atop his boulder-sized shoulder as a pauldron. Clenched in its mouth was a cannonball of adamantine infused with magics, both arcane and celestial like the miniature glaive dangling from his ear. Yet that told me nothing. And so, like Etan told us, my brother, Barro, and cousins, Novl and Seon, joined him to learn what we could of this man they called Freki.


    He was more than a mere man, however. He and the other ''primes'' of their troupe exuded every quality of the deities written in the annals of history. They held an angelic beauty, even the undying ones; even to drow standards. Soft light poured from some of their visages to elicit both emotions in passersby and reactions from the very realm. And, of course, they changed their environments by their very presence. From this God of a man, it was something that spawned a sense of purpose the moment we descended into the gate complex.


    Considering the circumstances, the gate was completely barren. The standard slaves stood guard amongst the entrance while their overseers lingered above, staring at the 14 canines guarding a gargantuan¡­ pipe.


    "We''ll take my train." Freki casually said, gesturing to something that appeared more like a beast made of adamantine. With the fanged maw agape on the front, that''s exactly what it seemed to be, yet chimneys protruded from its back and pipes ran down its front. No feet supported its massive frame, either. In their place were great wheels of metal, balanced atop smoldering rails, connected by a metal bar thicker than a troll''s arm.


    I knew a mine cart when I saw one, for I spent many an hour listening to dwarven slaves fantasize about carts that could move themselves. Admittedly, I grew to dream of them as well, if only to have some peace from their ramblings. Thus, I trotted behind the giant to learn more about this beast, only to have my zeal stolen by the¡­ expensive real estate within.


    That was to say, the thing was cramped. For someone of Freki''s size, it was nothing more than a shack connected to the ass-end of this long metal tube. Seats sat between a small chamber near the floor, placed next to each window, where they faced an array of small gauges and dials on the upper end. With the giant and the four of us, I began to fear when the wolves trailed after us, yet became relieved once they filed into the oversized mine-cart to our rear.


    "So, how does this work?" I turned away from the archways to look up at the giant, completely bemused by the lack of mana flowing from the ''train.''


    Without so much as a look my way, Freki booted the bottom chamber, opening a fanged maw to reveal another one of those canines sleeping atop a tongue of infernal brambles. It looked like Hellfire in there, born from the snores of that beast; for what purpose, I could only imagine, for I would have never guessed what he said next.


    "Amun''s knowledge of the natural world is immeasurable. He is a master of exploiting the laws of nature for his benefit. An engineer. The ArcaTech. Although trains exist in his homeland, the concept of this locomotive came from him. I made it, however. It''s an engine driven by steam."


    "Steam?" Novl chortled derisively. "Gaseous water?"


    "Exactly." Freki grinned. "Although this steam and the fire that heats it is the only magical part of its design. The former being from the divine realm of Eotrom, the latter from my sorcery. Now then, follow me."


    So saying, he guided us into the rear cart after shifting a few levers and knobs to put us into motion. The rear cart was a much more vast space than one would have otherwise believed. Grass, weeds, and other plants were sprawled across the open floor, save for a path that led through a clearing to reach the other side. Cliffs stood in place of walls, colonized by plants and strange silver-blue mushrooms releasing bore solid spores that somehow formed windows, showing us a glimpse of the House before it faded into the distance.


    "We gave our names, but that tells you nothing," Barro started once we found seats in the clearing. "We are the Great Grandsons of High Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel. Grandsons of the Fourth Daughter, Ilar Za''Darmondiel. We two are the sons of Ilar''s First Son, Senior Monk Antton Za''Darmondiel." He gestured to me, then to cousins Novl and Seon. "They are the sons of Ilar''s Second Son, Senior Monk Aldo Za''Darmondiel. We ask of your name, and if the tales regarding your rebirth are true. Were you once the prince of Shujen?"


    "Aye." He grunted, handing us each a bottle of fine wine he sourced with a snap of his finger, appearing with smoke and flame. "Freki is my name. Was both a deal and a pact I made with Amun. He released me from the dungeon, my sister from the forest, then dragged our parents from their castle and had us face them. We wished to kill them for the torture they inflicted on us. Yet, Amun told us that if we broke the Rules of Death by killing our kin, our souls would be tainted. He would not stop us. But his wolves, who had taken a liking to us - chosen us, would interfere without harming us. The King and Queen of Shujen taunted us. And so we slayed our parents; me, my mother; my sister, our father, murdering the celestial wolves, Skoll and Hati, in the process. Now, both remain, blessing and haunting us in one fell stroke."


    I began to inquire about his meaning when a figure appeared from the surrounding woods. She had a face like Freki''s, but aged. Lithe and horrendously gaunt, with pale skin and blue eyes wreathed in a familiar crown of ice and undeath. "Issa. The¡­ former Ice Queen of Shujen." She bowed.


    "Haunted by the one you hate." I whistled low. "Brutal."


    "Partially." He snorted contemptuously at the strangely benevolent zombie, giving us a wickedly knowing grin. "I hardly remember my past with her, nor do I care, yet she tells me anyway. I only care for the present and future." He said after a brief pause. "I only care to live freely. That''s why many of us have decided to take no part in this game of cunning between Amun, Matron Etyl, and her Spider Queen. That''s why I''ll tell you, those most interested in me, the truth of our being here."


    We all exchanged nervous glances with one another. Something he seemed to read immediately. "Worry not." He raised his giant hand. "You wear no holy symbols and we are long gone from the Falls. Not even the spider can hear us in here."


    Even after seeing foreign tunnels outside the windows, I was still skeptical, but the nod from Seon made it so I had no choice but to listen to him say. "My pact saw me become a celestial of the seasons, summer and autumn. Upon leaving Shujen with your great uncle, we ventured to Bakewia, Chor, and several other places across the Peninsula, wherein I recruited my followers."


    I followed his gesture to the many wolves lounging around us. Then it clicked louder than a hand crossbow. The wolves that bore so much intelligence in their eyes. "They are... like you?" I gasped. "Capable of transformation? And they are... farmers?"


    "Aye and Nay!" A grainy voice echoed from one of the smaller ones; black and with noticeably shorter fur than the rest. Yet its voice was unmistakable to any drow ears. "We''re False Shepherds. Predators that blend with prey."


    I felt a column of spiders dance down my spine at the words, leaving fine silk in its wake to straighten my spine in fear. Though not for them.


    "Some of us are bards, me boy, but my name be Mycahnis, agriculturalist of the deep. Farmer of the Darkworld. Fungal woods, mushrooms, mosses, and rothay; I''ll be huntin'' for some!" Laughing in that sourceless, grainy voice, the deep gnome canine trotted up to the archway we entered through and disappeared.


    Almost immediately, the ''window'' blinked to showcase the same canine running across the air itself, leaving plumes of smoke in the wake of every fiery step. "Such advanced scrying!" I gasped.


    "Therein lies the second thing you must know," Freki told us. "That scrying eye is a product of Amun''s engineering. An art he passed onto us, the members of his Troupe. Thus, every one of us is a professional. A master of a chosen field and simultaneously the proprietor of a hierarchal mercantile business. A corporation. Upon realizing I wouldn''t always be able to hunt at my leisure, I created Summer Wolf Industries. A business that can feed empires." He said, cheekily snapping his finger to summon a basket filled with chilled spirits; many of them we''d never seen or heard of. Gin. Tequila. Moonshine.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "Upon gathering the rest of the Troupe, we ventured to Amun''s divine realm to train, be educated, and evolve into the first gods of his pantheon. There, I created this train and used it as a template to be mass-produced. Each Warden of the Harvest has one, like Mycahnis. As do the bards, known as the Fruitful Four." He gestured to the wolves that had been following him thus far. "In doing these things before my evolution, I became the God of Agriculture, Barbarians, Freight, and Logistics. Yet, during my evolution, I trained to become a supreme officer of Amun''s Legio Noctis; in command of many things. I am the Grand Quartermaster of the Legions, Commander of the Ordinance and Field Artillery Corps, and the commander of a division of specialized destroyers. The Black Wolf Brigades."


    "It was as he said." I huffed in shock. "Creator of Destroyers."


    "And the Destroyer of Creators. Therein lies the reason for that something that told you to follow me here." He grinned, tapping his bestial finger on his head. "That something, you may or may not know, is Amun''s divine mana guiding you toward the desires of your heart- the desire to be free of these Falls, of the Spider, for good. And so, I offer you four the opportunity to become commanders of my brigades. Black Pack Alphas. Of course, you''ll receive my power." He gestured to his wolf companions with a sweeping hand before bringing a clenched fist between us. "But so too will you receive status, privilege, knowledge, wisdom, and fifteen hundred gold coins. Weekly."


    "It is enticing, for sure," Novl said before any of us; and for all of us. "We''ve been raised as monks. We''re indeed unevolved. But it is not as simple as agreeing. Merely having this conversation is a sin worthy of a fate far worse than death."


    "I understand they will try to turn you into an abomination." Freki quickly said. "However, I can assure you of five things, should you agree. First, is that, should you agree, you will step through Death''s Door. Yet death is not the end for us. From where we stand, to die means to change. Death is liberation. So there should be no reason for you to stay after your rebirth as werewolves. Second, it will be impossible for you to betray me, and I, you; for I am simply Amun''s orator, in this devil''s deal we''re making. Breaking the conditions yields direly irreparable consequences. Third is the one condition; the one rule. You will be prohibited from unjustly taking another''s freedom. That includes both slavery and rape, for necromancers need no slaves. And¡­ well, I''m sure you''ve seen how we are looked at." He sighed nostalgically.


    "Fourth, you will gain ultimate freedom. The freedom to go wherever on the Mortal Plane you please as celestials, unopposed by even the Gods; for Amun is the Eternal of this universe. Finally, you will gain legendary classes. With training, of course."


    "Legendary classes? Like the¡­ what was it?" Seon looked at me before snapping back to Freki. "Clerical Druid. That''s what Iris is, no?"


    "Yes. A merge of classes. You will be Barbaric Warlocks, Alphas of the Meteor Wolf Pack. Of course, I ask not for you to decide now. To only think about it and ask your curiosities away."


    I chuckled at that. That and the irony of me asking. "What is the cost?" A simple question regarded as heretical treason in Lilith''s foul society. But then again, I - nay, we''ve been sinners since the day we were born as males in this god''s forsaken cavern. If this cost was more bearable than the cost of sinning in this chaotic pit, I felt I had no choice but to pay it, for the alternative was to stay in this hell for the remaining several centuries of my life. If I made it that far; and if the cavern was still standing after his departure.


    "A bite?" I recoiled at the simplicity of his answer and the tone in which he gave it.


    "A drool-filled bite and a bit of madness is how the curse spreads. It is how you will create more werewolves. Though, not celestials like us. In your cases, celestial wolves will be summoned from Eotrom and merge with your entire being. Mind, body, spirit, and soul. It will be an extremely painful death. But unlike me, you won''t lose your memories or be haunted by the ghosts of your past. Unless you''re a kin slayer." He shrugged.


    "And what is the gain? Besides a transformation, knowledge, wealth, and power? We are to serve you for the rest of our days? However long that may be."


    "Not quite. We all serve Amun. As I do with him, you will live and roam with me. However, when Amun works in the context of our Legion - when he goes to war, you will be among those next to him while we act in other ways. You, and the other drow of House Za''Darmondiel, who secretly wish to be free from the crimson webs."


    ***


    Barro Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    I knew what he was truly asking of us. The others didn''t, but I knew what both our acceptance and our denial would yield; and not just the obvious boons and banishments.


    Of course, we''d be cast out from the House if we declined. We''d be taken into that foul pit like Etan. Tortured and turned into an abomination or, in the best case, killed. In turn, if we agreed, we would indeed join Amun, just as Etan did, yet we''d be sworn into an allegiance to a human. A God of a human, but a human nonetheless. A master in playing the fool. A silver-tongued enticer who wove gilded tales of ultimate power and freedom. A False Shepherd.


    On the other hand, we four and the 4,400 monks like us knew what tens of thousands of drow did not. We knew the disparity between the lies we learned as infants and the truths we saw as children. Elven children of the surface did not spend their days plotting our demise, just as we hardly spent time plotting theirs. Many of them had never even seen our kind, just as many of us had only laid eyes on a surface-born elf once Reina appeared in the Falls; and she was half-human. Many of those on the surface had never drawn blood in their lives, much less elven blood; whereas we slaughtered each other for sport. Many elves of the surface were completely oblivious to us drow; and for the ones that hated us, it was either after blood had been spilled or because of the angst of the Gods. Just like us.


    Now, an unknown yet long-since-foretold variable had arrived; a paradox in every meaning of the word. An anomaly. An enigma. Bool. A being who acted like no human, drow, devil, or undead the realms had ever witnessed. No one knew what he was thinking, much less what the Elven Devil was plotting. None knew the capacity of his power, perhaps even himself. What I could discern, however, was that Amun was a being of purposeful ambition who, for better or worse, had no restraint in sharing his knowledge and power. He did not act without reason, though. Thus, I couldn''t foresee him looking upon this chaotic hellscape and seeing it as anything more than what it was: a pit of pointless chaos.


    In that sense, I knew what his presence here would yield. Perhaps all drow of Zimysta did, given the title we gave him. Only a few of us denied it not, however. Only a few of us understood that, like Shujen, so far above, Amun would destroy these ancient Falls, and from the ensuing rubble, something new would arise. Perhaps another necropolis; if not something darker.


    "Gloom."


    More of a sourceless whisper than a surface thought. The word bounced off my very spirit as if to beckon my eyes toward the ''window'' of spores. As if I were standing over his shoulder, I could see the deep gnome from earlier walking among the moss fields of Zimysta as if he owned the place. That wasn''t the strange bit, however. His actions were being showcased to us, true, yet Freki paid no attention to it just as he paid no mind to the Harvest Warden leaving in the first place. Or the others, for that matter. Here these¡­ wolf-men were, napping, painting, drinking, playing music, and dancing as if they were in some peaceful forest meadow. Even when we were up above, in the Halls, they came and went as they pleased while their Troupe leader was off meditating or marching.


    After some reflection, I realized the same was true for Peter, Veil of Shadows, and Rua. Amun made them mighty before they even evolved. Amun gave Peter all of his knowledge, power, and support simply because he was a so-called ''friend'' - a word that had no meaning in our tongue. If one didn''t use the word for spider, we would say he could endure his company, as saying he enjoyed his company had¡­ other meanings. As a result, Peter joined his guild. Not because he was enticed, as Freki was enticing us now, but simply because Peter wanted to continue living alongside his ''friend.''


    He does not act without reason.


    ''So then, how would I wind up any different from Peter? How would our stations differ?'' I wondered, expecting no answer to return. Foolishly so, for we were dealing with the unexpected incarnate.


    We were dealing with living gods.


    "They will differ because you will be the most elite."


    I turned towards the source of that voice - that same thought or whisper, spoken in a tone so familiar, finding it to be the mote of light from earlier transformed into the likeness of Amun, reaching out his blackened finger to touch me on the brow.


    Both a searing cold and a numbing heat spread from the point of his finger, invoking a wave of darkness and light to consume the entirety of my being. My body was gone of all flesh. My mind was stripped of all thought. Yet my senses and soul remained with my spirit, trapped in that abyss of malevolent benevolence, transfixed on a black and blue coiled ladder that had been bent and twisted by the red webs of the Demon Spider.


    Somehow, I knew that coiled ladder to be me, Barro Za''Darmondiel. Simultaneously, my disembodied mind echoed something that rattled against my body, spirit, and soul alike.


    "Paragon."


    Like a cursed spell, the words spawned a heavenly inferno beneath the cranked ladder. The nightly flames of black and gold, dancing and beautiful, burned away those putrid webs, leaving a row of smoldering gold and ashen violet rungs fastened between planks of abyssal blacks and nightly blues. The light it outputted illuminated a great cloud of blues and purples expanding ad infinitum in every direction, and at its center stood me, standing taller and stronger, with eyes - gilded like Etan''s - capable of gazing across that infinite void to gaze upon worlds of metal and fire; water and ice. Then it all regressed. The ice and fire and water and metal. The earth and the gas. The light and the fire. The cranked ladder and my disembodied self were all engulfed by a great maw of nothingness before I was reformed and spat out into reality as a young drow in a strange vessel, staring at the mirrored expressions - those same stupefied gazes in the gilded eyes of my brother and cousins.


    I knew not if such questions served as my agreement to some pact or if I had simply... changed, like the moss and stone in House Za''Darmondiel. I knew not if turning toward his voice- if asking those questions caused his divinity to pour into me or if this change, this¡­ feeling of greatness I felt was from the deeper parts of my mind admitting what the surface would not. Neither did I care, however. The changes were here, yet my allegiance had yet to be sworn. Thus, the time was nigh to make the choice of the ages, lest I be dragged to the crimson webs.

 397 - Death for Desire

    Novl Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    I was reluctant. Hesitant. Apprehensive. Even after that vision. Even after this feeling of prowess that was but a taste of what was to come, I had doubts. Yet, I also had thoughts. Thoughts that I was wiser than Bazra and Barro, for they seemed confused about what had been so clear for me to understand. We had just evolved.


    We evolved, not in the sense that one would with a divine tree. The very structure of our being was changed to become better in every way, and in ways we couldn''t hope to understand; other than us being paragons of drow. That did not mean, however, that we were indebted.


    This change was borne from a God''s presence on the Mortal Plane. Just as he reshaped the stones on which he stepped, his actions and our reactions reshaped us. And so, perhaps like Etan, we became more. Paragons and pariahs in the same stroke of unfortunate luck. Fated to either escape to the surface, join these forces before us, or remain to suffer the same torture as Etan.


    The choice was obvious. Yet the option presented to me seemed¡­ unsatisfactory. Following Amun or Etan, I would have no problem with. Following the right human, I would have no problem with. Wilson Koorb, with his alchemical prowess and renown, for example. Freki, however, though I envied his lifestyle, seemed too¡­ soft. Thus I grew anxious once the vessel slowed and Freki spoke up over the music of his bards.


    "What are the strongest creatures here? And what type of plants here are edible?"


    Before any of us could respond, the window of spores rang out in the graveled tone of Mycahnis. "Plants are simpler. Anything glowing is poisonous. As are the shrooms with webbings under the caps or those with bright colors."


    "Which of the poisonous ones is tasty?" Freki then asked, much to our bemusement.


    "A fine lot of ''em, I say!" The dark gnome cackled, shocking us even more while he gestured across the plains of vibrant stalks. "I bet Spike can make a right wine of ''em. Give Rick a real kick, it will!"


    "Well, that sounds familiar," I sighed, feeling my bemusement shift to amusement.


    Freki, on the other hand, gave me a strange look. "What, drow don''t eat poisonous food?"


    I could only shrug with my hands. Yet Barro laughed. "Poisoned wine is enough for us. Poisonous food makes the backside run worse than the Falls."


    At that, Freki laughed and laughed and made me wait quite a while to interject. "If you want to talk poison, you should speak with our grandmother, Ilar. She''s the House Alchemist. She''s managed to create poisons that can even kill drow."


    "Mmm." Freki nodded at those words, and in response the ''window'' blinked to showcase a human with red and white hair, regressed in age, tinkering with an alchemical bench on the primary lecture room''s wall. Amun, the goblin, and the aforementioned halfling, ''Rick'' were in the foreground, meditating, listening intently, and playing a tune while our grandmother and many of our aunts observed from their not-so-hidden positions in the ceiling.


    Such powerful scrying.


    My cousin''s earlier words hit me like a boulder thrown from a stone giant, bringing about a cascade of memories and words that seemed innocuous just moments ago.


    ''He is a master in exploiting the laws of nature for his benefit.''


    Like this train; and the transformations brought to us four.


    ''A deal and a pact made with Amun.''


    A tenure that gave him the spirit of a warlock and the body of a sorcerer. Or rather, them, his werewolves.


    ''I only care about living freely.''


    Capable of venturing away from his supposed master whenever he seemingly pleased.


    ''Engineering. An art he passed onto us, the members of his Troupe.''


    Like this magic-less scrying, so advanced it could watch Amun, Mycahnis, and the perimeter of this vehicle simultaneously; and most likely, Etan as well.


    ''You will gain ultimate freedom.''


    Not because Amun would protect us from anything, I realized, but because he would grant us the means to stand against everything; and therein was the reason he shared his power so freely. And yet, I remained skeptical. I had to see what that meant with my own eyes, now gilded like Etan''s. So I eagerly listed the most dangerous creatures in and around Zimysta Falls. "In the outer legs and the waters beyond are Chitinous Hulks, Troglodytes, Naga, Violet Worms, and Crawling Cadavers. As well as stone and fire giants; albeit rarely. Here, in the lowlands, the most dangerous thing to be found is the occasional wandering minotaur."


    "Giants?" Freki asked, seeming to be all he heard.


    "Oh, yes." Seon nodded. "They''ve been crawling around the Darkworld for eons. Stone giants carve the tunnels and others follow, as they say. But only fire and rarely frost giants."


    "Mmm. Which of those creatures tastes the best?"


    Not knowing the answer to Freki''s inquiry, we pointed out the likely areas to house such creatures. The wilds beyond the Great Woven Yards of House Abaeir.


    While I was silent on the way there, skirting around the falls to approach the Yards from the outside, I was just beginning to tell him not to kill any spiders when it happened - the beginning of the end. Pulsing waves of deep blue light rolled over the cavern as if some bioluminescent thing was sinking into the stone, infecting the branching mycelium and its towering mushroom forests with a plague that withered in seconds. Then the light regressed, shrinking to a point of blue light somewhere inside the house.


    It was the same blue seen around Amun''s wrists and eyes, as well as the cheerful metal monster of his. But even that realization didn''t make me want to ask. Not that I had to.


    "Oho!" Freki chortled deeply. "Looks like Iris has started already."


    I shuddered at the name, as I was forced to remember the few instances of me sparring against that little monster. Though she looked much more capable upon her arrival at the Falls, I didn''t want to begin to imagine what that meant concerning this display of her power.


    Much to my satisfaction, Freki omitted Iris'' actions, nor did the ''window'' transition to display its effect. It only showed the hulking vessel roll on its smoldering rails to a stalagmite raised at the entrance to the tunnel ahead, forming a gate leading to the great Yards of House Abaeir. Yet I was uneasy all the same.


    That unease only increased when the walls of this strange cabin rolled up and out of view to allow many of the wolf-men to scatter throughout the fungal marsh, now decayed into petrified husks amidst a sprawling dust desert. Meanwhile, others encased themselves in burning brambles that subsequently died into ash that crumbled off of human, dwarven, and elven forms, standing tall to gaze upon the cavern before they got to work.


    With the ease of practiced motions, they stretched a canvas from the outer roof of the cart to provide an overhang for chairs and cooking stations and seemed intent on relaxing. Freki, on the other hand, reached toward the skull fastened to his shoulder to withdraw that black sphere clenched within its teeth. Then let it go.


    "What is that?" Bazra asked, following the sphere revolving around the man''s frame.


    "The Hesperus Star. My siege tool and satellite - the advanced scrying eye. It is used to broadcast the glory of my adventures to the Empire. An Emperor''s people should be able to watch him work, no?" He explained, splaying his palm while his earring shined brightly. His splayed hand immolated a moment later as a pillar of fire stretched up and down his palm and turned solid, darkening into the once tiny glaive he relegated to jewelry. "And this is the Venusian Glaive. My weapon."Stolen story; please report.


    Remembering Nijal''s painful lessons regarding unfamiliar weapons, I stayed away from any closer inspections and instead opted to see it in action. Thus, I led the way down the dark ramp.


    I intended to, at least.


    Deadly silent, the wolf-men and even the hulking giant trekked across the stone with the same fluidity and grace as us four. They worked in perfect sync, dodging and ducking the many fearful slaves and their noticeably agitated handlers scattered throughout the dank tunnels until we came upon the main yard and recoiled in shock.


    Where before there was a mushroom forest spread around the cavern entrance, there was now a desert of dust leading as far down as the canal and mossy plains. Said dust hung in the air like a pestilential mist that clung readily to the spiders'' webs, causing them to slip and stumble off the rock as they chased the prey that dropped from their webs, releasing more dust to coat their fleshy chitin and making more webs visible for the other creatures within - the werewolves'' prey, who remained unaffected.


    I noted the dramatic change Freki''s men incurred by their prey coming into view. It was like flipping through a picture book, the way their bemused expressions shifted to curiosity before a ravenous bloodlust overtook them. Coincidentally, so too was their prey. An Itunoz. A two-headed cross between an orc and a giant, standing around 3 times Freki''s height. This one in particular was crossed with a mound giant and thus was as dull as it was durable. Nevertheless, even we couldn''t sneak up on such creatures easily.


    Not that it mattered.


    Freki walked up to the beast with a sick smile showcasing his enlarged fangs even while the beast lumbered forward with a petrified mushroom stalk in hand. A heaving grunt preceded the rushing wind that great weapon''s swing. A soft sound, amplified by the solitude of the depths and subsequently muted by the ringing echoes of the stalk breaking away from Freki''s sweeping fist.


    It did not surprise me to see Freki parrying the attack; neither did seeing him lunge with his arm reared back, hand flexed into an immolated claw poised to gouge the half-giant''s calloused heel, eliciting horrid screams and searing hisses as filleted flesh cauterized and caught ablaze in the air. I was surprised by neither Freki''s lack of hesitation in wrapping his arms around the half-giants other leg and toppling it onto its back, nor his darting along the length of its body, dragging his searing claw into its innards before he savagely bit into its flesh, I was surprised by what came after. Munching and crunching; smacking and gasping as more of the half-giant''s neck and jowls were devoured by the crazed beast until he suddenly stood and turned to us, his face wrinkled and sour with dissatisfaction. "Tastes like stewed shit."


    After exchanging a look of utter bewilderment, we four erupted in a fit of laughter that was sure to echo to the surface, conjuring something that slaughtered our mirth without mercy. A drow female, nearly two meters tall, wreathed in jeweled gossamer and chitin armor that bespoke of her house before she demanded ours.


    <<"The 6th daughter, Asyrlla Abaeir.">> She said after we gave her the proper courtesy, then flicked her hand at the dead creature. <<"That was my slave. Are you to compensate me with this one?">>


    Of course, we knew it to be a lie. Freki, however, did not. The look on his face told me he had no clue what we were even saying. Yet I learned by now how cunning the man could be. Either way, there was no way to tell him of her station. Even though she was unevolved like us, she was a female under tutelage to become a priestess, so Freki''s uncaring nature would only make matters worse.


    <<"This is no slave.">> Seon told her in a tone he otherwise would never have used. <<"This is a champion of the Destroyer.">>


    <<"Still human!">> She sneered at the man, absentmindedly licking blood off his fanged maw. <<"A disgusting human male.>>


    <<"One of the strongest I have ever seen.">>


    <<"SILENCE!">> Her bellow sent a small shockwave of compressed arcana through our cavern, making some spiders turn or skitter our way. Yet none of us seemed to have been infected by the webs scattered by her voice. <<"One of you will repay me for what was lost.">>


    Uncaring and without a beat, Freki jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "You can have it back." Our eyes widened as she reached for her whip, but stopped once a fiery seed was flicked onto the corpse and a feral inflection came into his voice as he said. "Breathe."


    Like everything I had witnessed him do before, smoldering brambles consumed the corpse as his sorcery took root in it. Only, these flames sank into the flesh, causing it to writhe and howl as cracks spread beneath its skin, glowing red hot like adamantine in a forge.


    Scrambling, it climbed to its knees and stood to settle the radiant embers of its eyes on Freki, drawing his hand up to the center of his torso. "In." He commanded, and the giant obliged, inhaling a haggard breath that made the embers of its skin cool to an obsidian char. "Now hold until I say otherwise," he said, yet continued to stare for a moment before it bowed its head and turned to step beside the priestess. "Now you are repaid."


    "Yes." she said awkwardly, holding her studiously sneering gaze on us four before finally stepping away. "I am repaid."


    Freki needed no convincing to relocate upon our return to camp. By the time we arrived, the other wolf-men had already retracted their canvas and packed everything into the ''train.'' Thus we got on the move the moment we embarked, heading straight towards the lowlands at what I thought to be top speed.


    Once we''d made it over the Falls, Bazra asked the most pertinent question. "You gave her a powerful asset. Will that creature listen to her truly?"


    A wicked grin came upon Freki as the window of spores blinked to show a certain female drow seen from the eyes of an undead giant. "It will follow the chain of command. She is his handler. I, his master. Amun, his sovereign. So, I ask you, who has the advantage over whom?"


    We could only look at each other and snicker amongst ourselves. "So much for not participating in a game of cunning."


    "What can one expect from a False Shepherd?" He innocently snickered. "After all, not everyone is worthy of grazing in greener pastures. But there are more than you would think in these here falls."


    So saying, the window blinked yet again; this time, to depict a strange, blue-white creature of many metal arms darting through the caverns. Another blink saw us inside that strange creature, revealing an environment similar to this train, only much smaller and populated with Freki''s sister, Ruel, and some lesser members of the house. One of them being a male, danging helplessly by the tentacles.


    "Etan was right."


    ***


    Seon Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    "Etan was right." I continued laughing hysterically long after the many eyes of this train settled upon me. "You people are my kind of crazy. So tell me, can this thing go to the surface?"


    It was an obvious question, but the others seemed to catch my meaning; Novl, in particular, to much surprise. It was all but guaranteed that my brother would settle on the same conclusion as I. That this was our single best chance to escape the fate of so many males before us. The one opportunity we''d have to forge our own fates and never again be stepped on by the likes of another. The only moment we would have to become like our great uncle and gain ultimate freedom and the most prestigious station. The only chance in existence to walk beside the Eternal Champion.


    I had no intention of playing coy about that.


    "I''d like to see what this thing can do on the open plains. And." I paused, turning a smirk about all of them. "I would prefer not to be reborn in this place."


    With little more than a maddening grin from Freki, this outrageous vessel sped up, charging out of the gates in a conflagration that ripped open space itself. In the blink of an eye, we were through the smoke and in the dark once again, yet subject to the subtle cacophony of sounds unique to the surface.


    It was an amazing feat, to say the least, for the negative radiation present in the Darkworld made teleportation and divination difficult. Then again, the Darkworld was no different from the Shadow Realm or the Underworld whenever those of the Nox were concerned.


    We continued at great speed across the plains until we suddenly slowed to a manageable place within a clearing, where the train began to curl in on itself like a snake biting its tail to create a ring of grass and flowers. The wolf-men leaped into action the moment we stopped, using their magic and sorcery to spread a canopy of spindly trees across the clearing to make supports for a great tent filled with tables, benches, bars, and a veritable feast of meat.


    Rather than begin another feast, however, the wolves transformed into their true forms; dozens upon dozens of them, arranged according to their professions, which they ceremoniously disclosed. The Fruitful Four Bards. Gunter, the half-elf Bard of Advertisement, with Paint and Wood Magic; Presley, the halfling Bard of Revelry; Oaky, the dwarven Bard of Bar Keeping; and Kong, the human Bard of the Circus, with Canvas and Meteor magic; Freki''s only traveling companions as of now.


    Living elsewhere were the False Shepherds, led by those who lived on the Train - the Harvest Wardens. Gnash of Food Crops; Calrog of Livestock; Gilroy of Seafood; Thames of Industrial Crops; Caesar of Herbs; Larry of Lumber; Spike of Alcohol; Meiis of Magical Crops; Mycahnis of the Darkworld; Limmuvec, the Processor. Masters of agriculture, they were, not to mention the feet - not the backbone - of their Empire; supporters of the agricultural industries already set in place. Suppliers of the growing Legions of the Nox.


    Brigade commanders of the Black Wolf Brigands - Amun''s destroyers, are what we would be; specializing in the art of assault. Thus, we gratefully unfurled our robes to expose our right shoulders for the ritual, and prepared for our deaths.


    One by one, Freki bit into our flesh, releasing a searing venom to travel to the depths of our bones. I felt my flesh boil and burn to ash and I heard bones smoldering where my ears had been. Yet all I could see was a boundless field of ripe plants, looked down on by an eldritch eye of spinning bands positioned above the midnight sky.


    Thinking I had died and gone to the Upper Planes, I could only lower my gaze in an attempt to gain my bearings, wherein my breath was stolen by a colossal beast of black fur and fiery eyes standing over me like a stalagmite.


    How majestic it was, dripping its molten drool onto the plants to burn them away. I could only bow in respect; even while it dug into my innards.

 398 - Dawn of the Darklight Forest

    Reina Featherfall.


    28th of Quintetas, 1492.


    Dorsal Hills, Ventral Wall, Zimysta Falls Basin. Shujen Kingdom Dark Sky. Depth: 299,445 km.


    23:49


    ***


    While I still had the various networks networked in my mind, I now had a new gene at my disposal. Psionics, extracted, upgraded, and replanted in the minds of Mala and her brood - now redesigned to be as physically capable as their mental prowess before their evolution. But it was a process that would take time, overseen by the likes of Delilah, protected by Kalrog.


    In that way¡­


    "I envy you, Iris," I said through the projections of my new mind, yet that impenetrable skull of hers didn''t hear me, so I said. "I envy you, Iris."


    She turned away from the hollow of her chosen stalactite, chewed upon and defecated in by Ein, to give me an innocently sorrowful expression that forced me to answer before she could ask.


    "Your brood is gestated quickly. Your children thrive in your realm already. You get to witness them spreading across these lands."


    "I''m the one who envies you, Reina." She said. "Your children and your followers are born complete, mature, and in a home fit for them. Mine are born unsure of our place in these realms, for we have none we didn''t build. We are made to eat, wander, and change our bodies to fit our environments. And then... my family grew large before I knew it." She said solemnly, turning back to the stone-like termites spreading in her hollow. Dutifully, they formed the dough-like stone stool dropped by Ein into a polished wall lined with glowing conduits, wires, and screens that fed her more information than I could hope to process. "I''m grateful I have many friends I grew up with in Eotrom. They aren''t meant for places like this, though. Most of them, even the Mycodroids, live at home, in the Cuttleship, working in ICE, or taking care of my domain. The others are waiting above."


    She turned back suddenly to step forward with blackened irises; a gaze synonymous with her bardic - and now paladin abilities. "I realized something, with the Mycodroids," she said. "I''ve been augmenting people because it was what I needed. Granted, they needed to be rescued. But I needed more people like me at heart. The Mycodroids were the first time that wasn''t the case. Bringing them into my dominion was the only way I could help them. Yet, I made plans to do the same thing: augment someone because it''s what I needed. Destroyers. Mycodroid, Double M''s, and Zed Legion''s Valkyrie. After her, I''ll only augment those who need to be augmented. The few that are undeserving of premature death or those who are trapped in their bodies like I was." She declared, and more to herself than to me.


    That was something I admired about her. In a way, though, it also made us mirrors once again. Mala and her family were the one and perhaps the only time I would bring someone into my dominion because they asked, no matter how much they needed it. But I would keep no promises either way.


    "Prosthetics are different, though." Iris carelessly shrugged a moment later as her eyes shifted back to blue, much to my amusement. "Anyway, I''ll be joining the GM soon. We''ll be going to Mii''etus Praesyris to break some Squishies."


    "Squishies?" I couldn''t help but ask.


    "Weaklings." she innocently answered. "They''re all squishy."


    I erupted in a fit of laughter that lasted until Iris dismissed herself from her communications spire to rendezvous with Amun. Not much later, I received some correspondence of my own.


    It came from neither the network nor my mind''s eye, but my soul, so tainted. Like Amun''s voice, it transcended all methods of perception; the voice rattled in my bones just as an image of umbral scales formed in my mind, giving a face to the silky voice whispering to my soul.


    "Your voice is louder than ever, Flesh Mother. In only a few months, it seems we both have become greater. Older."


    "Oh¡­ heyy!" I chuckled awkwardly. However, such awkwardness was not born from fear. "Yes. Your¡­ Gloom is all the more¡­ dark, these days."


    "We are prepared." Came another whisper, followed by countless more. "We are excited! We cannot wait!"


    "As are we¡­" I muttered, feeling the unease creeping toward me. "I can''t wait to leave this place."


    "Now, now, Reina. The dusk won''t last long. Let''s ensure we enjoy it. For there is a long night before dawn."


    Taking her words as motivation, I imagined something akin to a water lily while gathering my sorcery and magic within my palms. My Floral Mana manifested as a fat seed of glimmering gold left to float down the abyssal river of darkness, pouring onto the wall from my hands. The wickedness seeped into the stone like an ancient desert gorging on the deluge of a long-awaited rain, corrupting the grains within to become a fertile pocket for this germ of twilight and umbral, fiery draconic miasma - gloom.


    It reproduced on its own, that germ, releasing seeds of a dissimilar family into the environment like spores eager to fill the vacant niche left by Iris, embedding themselves in the loosed stone or even spreading their roots through forgotten mycelium channels. Some followed the umbral river rising to the maw of this cavern, hoping to latch onto the petrified husks as the river widened into an abyssal sea spread throughout the Falls, filling the cavern with budding plants and sprawling saplings of violet and gold that selectively illuminated this divine domain of magical darkness. They stretched across the ceiling in all directions, interconnecting their roots to form an incorporeal taproot that carved its way through millions of kilometers of earth to breach the First Sanctuary, so far away, forming trunks and then branches and then flowers that shook spiced pollen and savory fruit into this stale pit that beckoned to the worthy within whilst sustaining the twilit creatures migrating to this subterranean ''hot'' spring - this first Twilight Grove.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    {"Getting started already?"}


    Though the voice resounded in the necrotic devices implanted in my skull, it came with a visage in my field of view and a sense of the speaker''s origin. Not that such a thing was difficult to find. On the contrary, spotting Chako Blude amidst the spreading twilight was easy; just as easy as finding Mani in the skies above, for she glowed with the same divine light. It poured out into the airs around her as if to lift the behemoth of a specimen in her grasp for her.


    I watched it and her intently as she swam up to the ceiling, casting a silver-blue bubble with a swipe of the hand as she halted. But where mine turned into an expansive marsh of dusk in the empty air, hers became a magnet of a pond that pulled the at the waters collected at the base of Zimysta. As if the gravity had been inverted, the splattering stream bounced off the basin and ascended, bouncing off and merging into each other before they cascaded into the wall to form a rising river that fed into her lake; and no matter where those waters poured - mine or hers - they nourished.


    My vibrant plants were fed and grew into massive statures the same as her lunar lake grew deeper by the moment, thus Sam and Red climbing out of their lake was but a prelude to what was to emerge from my spring.


    In the meantime, however, there was conversation to be had.


    {"Your average drow isn''t as bad as the stories make ''em seem. They''re just the right type of crazy, is all; the type of crazy surface people hate."}


    {"And extremely pious."} I rolled my eyes.


    {"We''re pious too."} Blude countered. {"We''re as pious as those clerics, priestesses, and Matrons in their temple, even. Everyone in the Legions. The only differences are that our God allowed us into his family. He walks among his followers, and he has a plan for his chosen purpose. Besides their zeal, Drow are militant pragmatists with a penchant for perfectionism. Those are perfect qualities for a legionary. Once they see bluer waters, they can''t help but dive in. Even if they have to lie to themselves. Even if it means death. Faith makes one irrational in that way."}


    {"Nah."} Iris chimed in. {"It''s their Goddess. She''s so¡­ coercive. And the things she makes them do... in the grand scheme of things, it''s pointless. They''re just slaves to her. Worse, they''re puppets meant to entertain her while she sits in her divine realm. Even thinking about her wrongly is a sin worthy of death - and she made her cleric''s mind readers to point sinners. It''s like dad said. Most elves are slaves to the gods."}


    {"At any rate, I got who I came here to get. We''ll be drowning that eye up there once this is cooked up, and the signal is given."} Blude''s voice echoed as she approached to give me a hefty piece of the¡­ water bug she caught.


    I absorbed it once, reducing it to little more than nutrients and information. Yet, before I could reply, that serene voice from before rang through the darkness.


    "That would do well for us."


    I saw Blude''s eyes bulge just before I turned to see the largest drow I''d ever seen. Or rather, the same but larger drow I saw once before, in a place far deeper than this. She stepped in ways that made it seem like she was gliding to Blude''s carcass, pulling our eyes away from the gilded foliage that bore more of the Owl''s feathers.


    "It is the highest honor to meet you, Flesh Mother; First Druid of Twilight." I turned to see many faces, both familiar and not. The speaker, a short woman on the verge of being skin and bones, stared up at me with bulbous irises of blackened blood. A feathered hood covered her gaunt face in a heart-shaped frame that resonated with my sorcery, tuning her voice as she continued. "I stand before you as Tava, Contour Feather of Shujen''s Dark Sky."


    In other words, Tava was the high priestess of a new nest for the Black Plume - a new Twilight Sanctuary. Only four beings were perched above her. The two Rectrices, Perry and Rita, who oversaw the various denominations; and the Remiges, the Owl''s first Priestess and Cleric.


    "The Twilight Empress will be joining us shortly. The Dusk Maiden sends her regards." Tava smiled, bearing the sharp fangs in her maw before continuing onward.


    Trailing her was the Tectrice, Limy of the Beak. A human woman turned undead shadow dressed in a breast band and skirt to expose the many beautiful sea green scars carved into her skin to resemble feathers. Knowing she was in charge of rituals, Blude asked what kind we expected to see. Yet it was Tava who answered without answering.


    "We come of our own volition," she said, gesturing to the draconic calamity darkness disguised as a drow, looming over Blude''s beast. "Our God''s Champion has been taken to be tortured and threatened with corruption. Thus, we are here to take, torture, and corrupt."


    "I am here to bring about the evolution of these Falls." Finally answered Limy, followed by the pale one trailing him.


    She was a subordinate of an Imperator we''ve met: Elijah. A deep gnome vampire spawn who ventured into the Shadow Realm to take part in a ritual that made her a denizen of both realms. A Living Shade. Since then, her hair fell out completely and her deep blue skin turned to a light blue-gray. She remained lithe but packed on a fair bit of muscle and a few centimeters, covered in a set of umbral scale male, hooded with dusk feathers and leather chaps. "I am here to serve the-"


    "No!" The giant drow snapped in the most serene voice imaginable, yet it manifested as a mere whisper. "In this form, call me¡­ Galendra. Sovereign Galendra."


    "As you wish, Sovereign." The inquisitor bowed.


    "Go! You have your duties. And do not dawdle, Kele. I grow hungry."


    With another bow, Kele produced a cloud of darkness, magical, but with our boons, we could see the lithe dragine dart out the hole just as the fiery and icy claws of the celestial twins carved through space itself, giving us glimpses of the surface and deeper caverns before they stepped through, leading different wolves than before.


    Sovereign Galendra manifested in front of them as if she was their shadows. Her cold gaze drilled into their bestial eyes and long snouts before they could turn toward me or Blude, much less notice her and turn with haste.


    "Take me to him," was all she said before leisurely starting ahead of them, Tava and Limy drifting close behind.


    We all watched the celestial twins exchange an uneasy glance before gesturing to their newest additions to join them. Only I seemed to ask what was on everyone''s tongues, however. "Should we¡­ follow them?"


    There was an exchange of glances from Blude and her girls. Then, as one, their voices rang in my head.


    {"Nah."}


    {"Nope."}


    {"Fuck that."}

 399 - Gloom Falls

    Ilar Za''Darmondiel.


    22nd of Quintetas, 1492.


    Primary Lore Chamber, House Za''Darmondiel.


    02:14.


    ***


    I was not like my older sisters, who witnessed Telin''s Intervention. I was not blinded by piety.


    Webs were cast in my mind, to be sure, but not as strongly in the webs strewn about the minds of the Matrons and their Priestesses. I was pious about the arts. History. Magic. Music. Poems. Epic tales. Strange artifacts. Potions. Artificing, above all. I respected them much more than prayers or rituals, yet it was that respect that gave me a pass, unlike my sister, Mala. In my love for history, I could learn of House Za''Darmondiel''s past, interwoven with the Queen Demon Spider herself. Through the arts, I could weave tales of the Matron''s triumphs into things as mundane as cloth, paper, and stone. Through my craft, I could give her priestesses the edge against their enemies. I could make myself useful; not just be used. In that way, I was free.


    That was my belief for the past century. Only now did I think otherwise. Dangerous, though such a thing was.


    While they were off in the temple doing whatever it was pious ones did, me, my children and many of those both attached and unattached to our web remained in the House. From on high, we gazed upon Selph reciting the tales of our past to this being foretold of in legend; a drow who held many similarities to our House. Strangely, however, he was not the most interesting aspect of the situation.


    While many could overlook the nature of his companions, I could not, for I could see what he made of them. Like the tales of the recent human monks above, he brought them to their potentials. But unlike those monks, they were made into the pinnacle of their species. Thus, the one playing an orchestra with but a single instrument was more than a mere halfling. She played the entire time Selph spoke, yet listened to the infliction of Selph''s voice rather than the tales of our history, filling the air with soundscapes even we haven''t - or couldn''t produce with our instruments; dreary yet powerful pieces that oft sent chills up my spine, or filled my soul with feelings I''ve never experienced, despite hearing these tales a thousand times in twenty-two decades.


    Then there was the goblin - the most peculiar of them all. He stood taller than any dwarf, much less a goblin, being as tall as a short man, and with better proportions in his hands and feet than the rest of his kind. Like our goblin slaves, he was extremely well-groomed. His thick black hair was combed straight back between his rat-like ears, pierced with gold and silver rings. No warts or rashes could be seen on his dark green skin, covered in a fine tunic, with what appeared to be four skeletal fingers reaching under and over his arms from behind to cradle a skull above his sternum. His appearance aside, he was strangely attentive, even asking questions requiring extensive answers as the lessons continued; much to Selph''s chagrin and our amusement. Doubly so whenever the Lore Master got distracted by the massive creature of bone and fur on which he reclined.


    The human, on the other hand, caught perhaps the most eyes, including mine. Indeed, it was common across the realms for skillful hedge witches and wizards - the self-taught and unevolved - to be highly respected. Significant risk came with using the sigils, glyphs, and words of power wizards spent their lives studying. Doubly so for those without the aid of an evolved spirit. To achieve such a feat and go on to brew potions with more potency or longer-lasting effects was remarkable for an elf; for a human, it was incredible. And not because they were inferior; because their lives were so short. That, however, was decades ago. The latest news of him told a story of obsessive madness. Thus, I assumed he was withering away somewhere above. I never would have believed he would appear on that fated day when Telin''s Champion was to descend to these Falls, much less with the appearance of a child. A¡­ ''teenager,'' as the humans called it, with a skeletal arm shrouded, somehow, in adamantine and gold.


    I needed to learn how his circumstances came about. Unfortunately, he spent the entire lecture standing on the wall with an alchemical lab as if he''d been blessed by the spider, brewing some eldritch concoction of madness and death throughout the lesson. I respected the craft enough to not interrupt an alchemist at work, so I distantly watched him imbue many unseen magical or sometimes divine ingredients into the cauldron; often causing the Lore Master to upturn his nose whenever the fumes wafted in his direction.


    The ambiance, the brew, the Lore Master''s story, and Amun''s placid reaction to it made the four hours pass in a blur. I nearly descended into madness by trying to discern his reaction to our tale. All we saw, however, was placidity. A blank gaze that hardly blinked.


    It was an unbelievable sight.


    Ours was a story as old as time itself. A story of the Second Tree of Life, Youtera, giving birth to her first children. Triplets who were born at the same time. Like their distant relatives born from the other Trees of Life - the other Ascended Deities, they could create life; life forms copied by their trees of life.


    The Weaving Mistress, Faenya, was born amidst Youtera''s branches and thus used the weave to create her children; the first Faeladrin, High Elves, and so she became the Goddess of Magic, High Elves, Wizards, and Fae.


    The White Horn, Caelarin, was born amidst Youtera''s trunk and thus used nature to create his children: Wild Elves - those of the Woods, Sea, Frost, Sky, and Desert, and so he became the God of Fertility, Harvest, Nature, and Wild Elves.


    The Oracle of Fate, Lilith, was born amidst the darkness of Youtera''s roots and thus used her body and mind alone to birth her first children, Dark Elves, and so she became the Goddess of Oracles, Fate, Change, and Dark Elves.


    As it was before the Rending, the Youteran Gods lived in Youtera among their children, just as the Gods of the other realms did. Unlike those born from the trees of life, the Gods knew of and communicated with the denizens of those other realms regularly. And so, when eons passed and the Trees of Life had birthed countless weaker life forms - although not quite mortals - disagreements arose. As Amun was doing here, in Zimysta, their presence caused reality to change in real time; often in subtle ways, yet certainly in ways that upset the lives of many. So it was, some deities agreed to leave the Mortal Plane once and for all. Naturally, some opposed such lines of thinking. The resulting war was but a petty squabble of a few battles, a few betrayals, and some unfortunate deaths in the eyes of the Gods. For those weaker life forms, however, it served as the end of civilization as they knew it. Amazonia''s death by the hands of Razdraz the Slayer was the biggest tragedy of the Rending in the eyes of many. Yet countless others were forced into and sealed within their divine realms, their Demigods, Proxies, and Champions banished and sealed across the realms.


    That was the story for all who remembered the Rending, except us.


    We Drow remembered it as a time of betrayal.


    Being the Goddess of Oracles, Fate, and Change, Lilith foresaw the impending chaos of the Rending besides glimpses of what came after. And so, she was the only Youteran deity willing to seal herself within her divine realm, hoping to preserve all they''d built. It was her siblings, Caelarin and Faenya, who denied the proposition, citing they wished to be free as elves should be, but instead of warring with her or coming to an agreement, they deceived the three Sons of Lilith to act against her, bringing about a game of deception and cunning that resulted in Lilith''s siblings sealing her within the Old Infernal Plane - what is now Nergal''s Underworld - throughout the Rending. Without Lilith''s help, however, the elves and their outnumbered allies found themselves outmatched and soon sealed within the realms like the other deities, reduced to such a point where they could only influence the planes via the actions of their followers.


    As for Lilith, her time amid demons caused her to lose the domains of Oracles and Change to that of Deception and Chaos. Thus resulting in us Drow being forsaken and banished to the Darkworld. Thus resulting in her direct descendants, House Za''Darmondiel, losing their connection with their divine ancestor, resulting in the cultural disdain for males among those loyal to Lilith, for it was they who betrayed their mother. The 1st son, who orchestrated. The 2nd son, who acted. The 3rd son, who murdered his 9th sister, sparking war. Beings whose traitorous names were known only by the Matrons and their high priestesses.


    Even through such a story, I could not tell how he felt about it. He held the same blank face he had since his arrival throughout it. The only thing to be seen from his visage was a slow blink every few minutes. Once the tale was spun, he started smoking on a magical pipe of pure white bone while looking off into space as if he were in deep thought. Uncaring, even for the wave of energy sweeping across the hall from higher above.


    It was vibrant blue like bioluminescent fungus, and indeed, it traveled through the same filaments and fruiting bodies spread throughout the whole of the Falls before returning to the point whence it came. Yet there was no sense of¡­ power to be found within. It was simply like a light had passed through the chamber. Yet the rumblings it produced told another story. Even then, though, not only did Amun not react, but neither did his so-called Troupe. They continued brewing, kept performing, and kept reading without a care.


    Suspecting the worst, I went off to investigate, feeling a deep pit of unease grow within my stomach with each passing step toward the forbidden cave - my older sister''s home.


    Patches of dust where fungus had been increased in frequency as I went, coinciding with the decreasing number of servants and slaves tasked with keeping the place under guard. I made it halfway to where the forbidden chamber was supposed to be before I faced the dead end of collapsed rock. It was a sight I did not want to inform the Matron of. So, to that end, I searched around for Raki and Ruel, only to find them gone. That only made my job easier, however. With them out of the picture, it was up to Nadra or Yela''s children to break the Matron''s web. Thus, I returned to the lore chamber just as Selph was spinning his next tale.


    In a way, it was a tale of Amun; Telin''s Intervention. But again, he listened to the story with a placid gaze and dreadfully slow blinks.


    Selph began with the story of the gates appearing in Youtera, sparking a millennium of war that brought us to the pinnacle of creation in all the realms. Our ancestors learned to manipulate those gates, closing them for good before they used smaller ones to cleanse the motherland of her invaders. It was when peace had come to Youtera when Telin appeared, demanding they complete various tasks to prepare for his champion''s arrival. Here and in Youtera, it was the first time all elves cooperated on the same endeavor since before the Rending. Together, we learned of every task we could - we and our deities. In turn, our deities developed tasks for their followers.


    As for Lilith, she had been weaving webs - giving tasks all along.


    When the portals first appeared and elves were sent through them, the then Prime Matron Eiriol Za''Darmondiel found herself without her Queen''s favor. However, in an act of utter benevolence, the Demon Queen Spider dangled a chance to regain what was lost before the fallen Prime Matron. She was to give up her station to her first daughter, High Priestess Etym Za''Darmondiel. In turn, all but Prime Matron Etym''s 1st Daughter were tasked with taking drow armies through the gates to spread the name of House Za''Darmondiel across the Mortal Plane. Even the males were used for this endeavor. The 1st and 2nd Sons, Ildan and Impaviel Za''Darmondiel went to Betrarth. The 4th and 5th Daughters, Alytana and Eknaen Za''Darmondiel, went to the Inner Reaches. The 2nd and 3rd Daughters, Eylahnor and Ahnya, went to the White Realm. The 6th Daughter, Etyl Za''Darmondiel, accompanied the forsaken Eiriol to Nonus, for the latter was to mold the young Etyl into a Prime Matron.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    So it was. Countless Drow followed in Eiriol and Prime Matron Etyl''s wake, spreading out from the Nonusian gate to here, beneath the Bodhi Tree, where she helped found the arcane institute and cemented our place here in Zimysta Falls. In turn, Eiriol regained what was lost: her forfeited life.


    Eiriol was rewarded for her efforts with banishment. She was allowed to live as a forsaken drow, yet was promised that her favor would return should she help a bit more; and more, and more, and more. Such help came in the form of Eiriol finding a portal to the Astral Realm and using the records copied from the motherland to adopt the ways of the monk, building a monastery above Zimysta to make the males more useful to their Matrons. Yet, their monastic ways served to be a detriment to them. Being so scattered and ethereal, their minds could no longer be entangled with crimson webs. Thus, Abbot Eiriol forever remained cast out and used for her ability to educate.


    Vexing! It grew to be vexing, the way Amun blatantly listened to those fantastic tales. It was almost as if he didn''t care. Yet I knew that to be an excuse I generated for myself. In truth, it was as if he had heard nothing new or perhaps wished to gain a different perspective from the tale he was told; recited by the likes of Etan.


    It became even more vexing when Amun offered to tell his history, again with that placid gaze; and what a history it was, recorded on that day by the likes of Selph and several other drow, including me.


    It was a glimpse into Amun''s memories, divinated and recounted by the likes of that exotic ''Lore Skull'' floating about by his side. It projected illusions from its multicolored eyes while its mouth wove a tale of a magic-less spherical realm filled only with humans and the things they created. Ships of steel that could traverse both endless waters and the infinite void above the skies. Barrels that could launch metallic pellets capable of felling hundreds within seconds. Devices that could do many things enchantments could; more things they could not.


    They were godless humans who held power one could never believe, capable of taming stars and thriving in the most hostile places imaginable. They possessed knowledge one could never fathom, understanding how to merge their flesh with dwarven-like machinations to gain the longevity of elves and the resiliency of orcs. It was a realm both he and Telin were native to; a realm of creative destroyers. Technological War Gods ascended from the muck of a death world.


    The tale claimed Amun could remember every second of that long life of suffering and awe. Every detail. Then, it showed us his birth in Maru after it told us of his conversations with Telin, his ''sponsor,'' not his God. It showed him being the 25th Child of the Nox, the only Son of Emeric Cole and Eved, a violet-eyed drow whose name and visage made us pause in disbelief. It showed his decision to remain in this universe as the Eternal God - to spend his life learning and exploring, and when he ran out of things to explore, to change everything and explore some more. Thus, he began training, teaching, and scheming.


    Like all things regarding him, Amun''s life seemed contradictory. His upbringing was a tale of organized chaos. He trained his vassals in the ways of combat shortly after he could stand, much like young drow males trained to become monks, using the combat his people developed on that false paradise - that death world. He taught them the science and technology those humans discovered and created; their machines of industry, born from manipulating the laws of nature with materials procured from nature. He planned to form first a guild and then an empire to bring his era of ''MagiTech'' to prominence, yet formed them in reverse before he attended the Guild Master Course. He kept his vassals unsupervised, only giving them orders and leaving them to their own devices. He taught them his philosophy, yet encouraged them to not blindly follow his ideals but to test them and draw their own conclusions. He inquired about the ambitions of his lessors and changed his plans to befit them, no matter how troublesome the task was. Actions unheard of to us; for Drow, Devils, and for Gods.


    Akin to the tales told above, he showed us his training with the legendary Necro King. Yet it was no sense of training we had ever witnessed. Not even drow would put a child at the peak of their first decade against a Magus. Sure, a child would be trained in combat; however, the child would not be beaten to the brink of death and healed in the worst ways imaginable, only to be beaten and healed again and again and again. Not to mention, we could not have that child war against an undying army of shadows for years.


    We saw four years of such ''training'' pass by in several moments. Then we saw his first ascension. The birth of his arcana and the awakening of his cores. Then came the message he sent to the whole of Maru.


    Just like the message sent to those above a year before, we saw Amun cast a realm-wide spell across the Marulean sky that spoke to the souls of all within in different ways; just as Telin appeared in the senses to all those elves in different ways. We then saw him leave the land of his birth and spread his glory elsewhere - a village of weak humans on the verge of extinction by the hand of some measly bandits. They were saved in exchange for housing his vassals, yet he shared with them his grace, using living standards as an excuse to uplift them to prominence. Once they offered their souls to him, he trained them to be strong; he taught them to be smart; he planned for their prosperity and then left for the Bodhi Tree with tasks for them to complete, giving rise to the birth of his empire before his sixteenth year of living, and before his guild.


    When he came to the Bodhi Tree, Amun and his vassals made connections. We saw him impress, befriend, enrage, and become enemies with his fellow students and those who taught at the Tree alike. We saw him learn of their natures. We saw him earn their respect as they earned his trust. In turn, he earned their loyalties to the point of them agreeing to a living devil''s deal; often with few questions. Then, we saw him train them as he did his vassals for half a year - last year; all while his undying minions scoured the Darkworld for metals.


    By the time Class 999 was to complete their evolution ritual, both endeavors were complete. Adamantine and mithral had been acquired and his guild - the Nox''s Legions had been formed. Yet that was the prelude to his ascension. Or rather, that was the catalyst that made them divine. But even then, his work was not done. He created his divine realm and further organized his Legions, then returned to the Mortal Plane to learn the ways of the Grandmaster Artificer before descending on another pitiful village to spread his glory. Through that came Iris and Blude, who arrived in Shujen by his side to learn the art of killing from Eiriol herself.


    We then saw the walk that was still told in these falls. We witnessed him summon the sun to crush an army on the frozen bay and weave a world of deathly ice to loom above the surface as a permanent reminder of his station as a destroyer. Then he left. With Geri, Freki, and Etan, we saw Amun, Blude, and Iris return to Bakewia and then depart for Nevstan, then Redagh, and then out to the Tri-Point. They traveled across the Peninsula in days, Amun, his chosen followers, and the one chosen to follow him, Etan Za''Darmondiel. They learned of his ways as he learned of theirs, even as he made pacts with unseen individuals in the distance.


    We saw them come to a deal, Amun and my brother. An agreement wherein Etan would be Amun''s teacher and the Regent of his imperial guild, and Amun would be Etan''s commander and boss; but with one unnamed condition. And then, for years, they trained in his divine realm. His Troupe became the Prime Deities of his divine empire, awakened their affinity cores - the humans at least - and evolved. Only then did they return, so Amun could complete his march through Nydorden Halls. Thus bringing about the day the Matrons had been looking forward to for so long.


    Only once that fantastic tale of dreadful hope transpired did Amun show any emotion. It was a sudden rise in his head, coupled with a look of nostalgia, as he turned to the darkness pouring from the entrance like thick fog, spreading across the tiles to form an abyssal carpet.


    "But of course, all annals have their secrets." Amun cryptically said. Curiouser, his companions didn''t seem to mind his words or the growing presence of something foul, only giving side glances at the darkness and nothing more. When the Lore Master inquired, all Amun said was "Gloom Falls." I thought it to be some strange Darkworld phenomenon until Amun lifted his eyes to meet mine, hidden in the shadows so high above. "Allow me to introduce you all to someone, Ilar and family."


    I winced as he waved us down, but after reminding myself of his station, I obliged and looked around upon landing before him. "Who is it?"


    Amun only smirked in response. Yet before I could speak, a subtle tremor rang throughout the House, beckoning, it seemed, a pervasive cloud of darkness into the chamber. I turned to the source at once, bringing me face-to-breast with the largest, most magnificent figure imaginable.


    She was a Drow, and massive, standing well over 2 meters tall and densely packed with rippling muscle that was smoothly lithe all the same. She towered over me as she leaned forward with a predacious smile, seemingly immolating herself in shadows as she set her blacker-than-black eyes on my soul.


    I fell to my knees in practiced reverence, arms up high alongside the other drow behind me. "Praise be the De-"


    A slender finger snaked beneath my chin, silencing my words and lifting my feet from the ground with more strength than a giant could produce to bring me eye-to-eye with that magnificently terrifying visage.


    "Never mistake me for your Demon Queen Spider again, Ilar." She sneered as the darkness regressed from her eyes, bringing about the same gold-limned irises I saw in Etan; only filled with black.


    The recognition in my eyes, it seemed, caused her to set me down on my feet, yet my heart continued sinking evermore. Thus, she pulled me into her icy embrace. "Second, it is... disrespectful to praising anyone but me or the Elven Devil in my presence."


    She read my confusion and spun me around, releasing her grip to leave me levitating in place while she walked ahead to splay herself across the table Amun sat before, her gaze held on me.


    "This is Sovereign Galendra." Amun said to us with the same unerring expression and monotonous tone; then held a long look at her before turning to the Lore Master.


    She, still looking at me, snapped. "Go on!"


    I felt a surge of uncertainty run through me as I imagined the worst. But then she canted her head to face the object of Amun''s gaze. "Continue your tale, Lore Skull."


    Shakily, we all took a breath of relief. All of us except Amun, his troupe, and his Lore Skull, who not only spoke the painfully obvious to all those present. It showed us things that were never meant to be seen.


    "And now, upon entering the fabled Zimysta Falls to learn of his drow heritage¡­" the head - Sir Richor - paused, disgust apparent in its eyes, set on a scrying image of a legion of spiders stomping and biting on a drow form, enveloped in crimson web within a pit of the same color. "Amun''s Champion has been taken, tortured, and threatened with corruption." Each word enhanced the visage of the First Son, bloodied and bruised in the highest dungeons of the temple, pinned by the Eight Legs of Zimysta while the Eight Eyes sang in prayer with their many daughters. Each word intensified the placidity of Amun''s gaze, and therein I realized.


    I realized his gaze was not one of placidity. It was one of silent fury; enraged patience. Things the Matrons, their Priestesses, or even Drow as a whole, in our chaotic ways, could not notice much less foresee from one of our own; and with their attention focused elsewhere, would not hear.


    "The Matrons of Zimysta attempt to take the Abyssal Regent''s Eternal-given freedom of their own volition. They are free to do this just as the Elven Devil''s Troupe is free to destroy these Houses in the name of retribution. Your Matrons are free to scheme against our Eternal God-Emperor for the sake of their Goddess; in the same way that the Black Plume is free to prey upon the Matrons of Zimysta Falls in the Elven Devil''s name. And so now, the drow of Zimysta must choose to fight and die for their Demon Spider or step through Death''s Door and become part of the Divine Empire of Eotrom Empire, be reincarnated by the Eternal Champion, and follow his march across the Mortal Plane. You have until Zimysta''s fall."


    Pausing in the wake of such a declaration, the skull turned its wicked, jagged-toothed grin to us, exposing its gold-limned purple gums to echo its haunting ultimatum. "You, Selph, Ilar, and scattered members of House Za''Darmondiel, must decide now. For the time has come for Zimysta''s Fall, bringing us to the present chapter of Amun''s Annals."


    "Good." The giant drow smiled at the words. "Our next stop is the Tower of Might, no?"


    "That it is." Amun stood with a sigh I could not place. Then, with a lift of his hand, wove his purple arcana into the table on which she lay to pry it from the ground. In twisting his wrist, the table and everything on it canted over and inverted to float above his head, prompting the goblin to mount his bone-armored beast and trailed after them without another word, leaving the rest of us stunned or leaning for support, as in my case.


    That Drow - that giantess of a Drow contained too much power. It had to be Amun''s doing. He gave power to everyone; it seemed. Yet hers was far darker than even the cat''s. Moreover, she made it here without being detected. She spoke such filth about the Spider and no one seemed to sense it; nothing seemed to react to it. That could only have meant that their divinity was more powerful than the Spider''s. That, or something else was keeping Lilith and her followers from gazing upon Amun.


    That, or I lost favor; not like I ever had it to begin with.


    I was not like my sisters. I was not blinded by piety; I was not one to throw my life away for maddening ideals. I was a survivor, for I made myself useful, and I would use everything to survive this thing we could not turn away from. Even then, however, I turned to look back at those behind me - those who descended from my womb. I cared not about the rest, but I could not help but feel I dragged my children to such a fate. Phoruca. Ryldin. Viconia. Aufa. Antton. Aldo. Even their children were here, save the sons of Antton and Aldo, last seen with¡­


    "It all makes so much sense now." I muttered, cackling in disbelief. Raki. Ruel. Bazra and Barro. Novl and Seon. They all missed this legendary moment, just like the Matrons. For they all were last seen with members of the Elven Devil''s Troupe. "We were the condition for him to join you. My... brother... wanted us to witness this future alongside him.


    "Well?" I demanded after the pause. "Is that not the case?"

 400 - Liberty In Death

    Ruel Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    The pact was sealed by placing my right thumb into her drooling maw and enduring as she bit down, spreading a deathly cold through my body like venom. Blue and white fog swarmed my vision as it raced through my veins, not a black expanse, accompanied by no feelings of returning to anywhere or being released from a great anything; only the pain of being frozen, crushed, ground, and smeared before everything changed, compounding those pains tenfold.


    Again, I felt as if I were thawing as the deathly cold receded into the background of a fading sense of self, pushing back the eternal field of blue to reveal rolling plains sprawling around my body, regurgitated onto a field of those strange multicolored mushrooms - those flowers. Left prone by the fall, I could move but could not stand so I turned at the waist to survey my surroundings, only to freeze upon seeing the body of beige-gray fur partially hidden amidst the flowers, holding the glare of its yellow-green eyes on me.


    It was unlike any canine I''d seen before, with fur and eyes unlike those belonging to Geri or Freki; a tiny thing, hardly standing taller than the surrounding flowers until it stepped forward to shift my perspective, and I found myself look up at it. Another step doubled its height, forcing it to dip its snout level to my chest to focus its calming eyes on me, staring with neither fear nor reverence. Only¡­ curiosity. The same thing I felt when staring into its eyes.


    As it reached out, so did I, outstretching my nimble digits to rest my palm on its leathery nose and feel the sheer power in its exhalations. Recognition flared, morphing into a sense of understanding that saw us both retract and relax. I faced front and this¡­ wolf approached to curl its form around me, beckoning me to lie back and allow its fur to consume me in comforting darkness; eternal and expansive.


    When I awoke, I almost felt like I was in a lucid vision. My field of view was narrow, focused, and veiled with a beige tint. My breath, laborious and bestial, echoed against my ears while the taste of some savory nectar filled my mouth. I felt... different.


    Bemused, I pulled my maw away from the partially thawed meat of some wild beast and looked around to find myself in a cavern marked and scarred by a familiar battle. I felt my movements odd yet familiar as I moved toward the riverbank, where I looked down to be only slightly surprised at the visage of beige-gray fur and yellow-green eyes staring back at me. It was just as Geri said. I would possess one of those celestial wolves, just as it would possess me. Yet that realization, that name, saw me wail almost in despair, for the innermost parts of my mind tried to convince me I''d been betrayed when I realized I was alone.


    Neither my appearance nor my inner conflicts were my focus, however, for my senses demanded I split my attention between the turbulent waters and the winds above, whistling in tune with my spirit.


    The tumbling waters burst apart the instant before I jumped back from the spray of gelid waters and serrated jaws lancing out of the throat of that cruelly dagger''d maw. Another jump put me on a course for the stalactites, where I passed by a moss-covered beast with hooked toes falling to crash into the violet worm''s clenched teeth. As I rose and fell across the cavern, my eyes fell on my half-eaten food and I felt another familiar sensation well within me; anger, and then a tempestuous rage that manifested as a snarl toward those who''d dare steal from me.


    I felt something rise into my throat as I tried to voice a threat to the hooked hike, recovering from its fall to turn its barbed talons on the violet worm that emerged from the drink. Yet what emerged was a crystalline mass of ethereal green vines that launched me back in surprise as it sprang from my mouth, whipping the air into a bladed deluge that converged into the beast''s side. The impact threw it clear of the river, sending it tumbling against the stone, sending a drumroll of ear-splitting cracks through the cavern until it slid to a halt. However, with its dense fur and superior climbing ability, I knew it would return in seconds, so I turned my attention to the violet worm with haste.


    In falling into the grace of battle, I seemed to forget my transformation. I attempted to unsheathe my scimitars as I bounded at the worm, only to be partially surprised to find my arcana weaving more of those ethereal vines into spectral claws of air that lashed at the violet scales, to no avail. Regardless, I slashed and hacked at the worm''s body as the winds carried me down its length, past its barbed tail, and across the waters, where the relative calm opened my ears to the skittering above.


    I honed my senses on the area at once, grasping the abundant arcana with my will to form it into my favorite illusory spell. A high-pitched howl rang through the cavern instead of a shrill ring, yet the effect was the same. The blind beast arched in pain at the sound, releasing its toes from the ceiling and remaining unguarded as it fell into my volley of transmutation spells, corrupted and enhanced by my pact to manifest as flowers that exploded, ignited, sparked, and corroded as I darted across the shores to keep up with the swimming worm.


    The noise was deafening and the ceiling''s destruction was absolute, yet somewhere amidst the chaos I heard the dying throes of the hooked hike and thus turned my undivided attention to the worm, lurching and lungeing against the current to close the distance.


    I was just beginning to fall onto an offensive path when a deep thud echoed from the river, invoking a wave to gush from the slowing worm before something pulled its body under the dark waters. A familiar scent wafted into my nostrils a moment later, causing me to relax, recline on my haunches, and shiver as that thawing sensation cascaded over me. When I opened my eyes and turned to the Squid Squealer, reaching out to me, I was relieved to see the strange trance-like state was gone and my limbs, with their glorious violet-slate shade, had returned. By the time I entered, Nhildia, Qiryyn, and Pharryl had arrived in their bestial forms and reclined as I had, shuddering in ecstasy as their fur turned to water and precipitated off their forms to disperse in the air.


    Strangely, however, we were the sole occupants.


    The Squealer began moving on its own the moment we were settled. I felt unease loom as it turned toward the Falls, yet it dove into the river as if to chase after the violet worm. In a way, it did, as its cracked scales and brutalized body lay strewn about the large wrinkly rock we approached, releasing its dark blood into the depths as if to occlude whatever lie within. The four of us watched those scrying windows intently, awkwardly, for we knew not what to say to one another with these changed stations of ours, just as we knew not the purpose of the Squealer enveloping the wrinkly rock with its tendrils; not until the beak pierced through the fleshy surface and opened. Readily, we stepped through to a spherical structure of slate, quartz, and bronze bubbles or domes clustered around and atop each other to partition the central space, composed of a grand table occupied by finely dressed humans and a similarly dressed drow with a white undershirt.


    "Raki!"


    She acted before I spoke her name, stepping forth the moment the Squealer''s beak hissed open to grip my bicep tightly when I emerged.


    "It is good to see you alive and well, sister." I returned the gesture.


    "Likewise. Although I did not expect others to accompany you on this journey." She gripped me tighter before gesturing to those behind me.


    I began to respond when a great scratching echoing through the room demanded I turn to the scar of light and heat carved into physical space. It was familiar in the same sense as Raki, despite being dissimilar to the power within me. I felt drawn to it, increasing my surprise when four drow wearing the fur of black-furred beasts emerged. Their postures went from relaxed to rigid the moment they saw us, clamoring up their jaws to all mumble the same thing. "G - great aunt Raki, and Ruel."


    "Bazra, Barro, Novl, and Seon."


    "You have been bitten too." I approached, showing them my hand.


    They relaxed at the sight, devolving into yapping pups as they showed the glowing bite marks on their shoulders. While still grating, it was¡­ tolerable; I supposed. Plus, their words held merit.


    "Did you have a vision, too?" Novl asked me. "We did before our transformations. We all saw great wolves in a field of ripe crops. Then we were consumed and subsumed into the wolves. We awoke in half-bestial forms and roamed the surface for a bit before returning here."


    "Curious," Raki mumbled, unprompted. "I saw Rippa devour me wholly in that blue abyss. Mine is a different and yet similar case than yours, however." She turned to me with an expectant gaze, unlike the curious look exchanged between Geri and Freki.


    "I had a vision," I confirmed. "I was sitting in a field of flowers and reached out to touch the wolf. I awoke in the caverns as a wolf. I was... eating, and then a violet worm and a hooked hike attacked simultaneously. The former wound up being your prey?" I asked my sister.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    "The first of many in these forsaken Falls." She gestured for us to sit where we could and reached for the silver mushroom growing from the center of her desk like a lamp. It was more than double her arm''s reach away, yet it reacted, glowing to release spores that stretched and solidified into more illusory windows. She then flicked her fingers in our direction, floating one to each of us while addressing the room.


    "While you may not care, there is more to the Elven Devil''s ploy than us. Your fathers, aunts, and grandmother. Our father. Our brother. They will be freed from the Spider in life or death just as we were. Then begins the hunt." She clasped her fist, grinning fanatically as those mentioned flashed across our windows. "If you are like me, prior to your reincarnation, you were not aware of the extent of Amun''s empire, let alone his guild. His is an Empire of Empires; and Drow fit perfectly within it. Our stations will see us report directly to the Eternal Champion as military assets. Our purpose has never been greater."


    "Right!" Freki grinned at my cousins as he stood to wind his arm. "If you want to bite any of your former slaves from the House, now is the time to do so. "Bite ''em all for all I care. The wolves above will find the worthy. Those who are not will simply be..." He shrugged. "Lesser."


    I glanced at the scrying window, seeing Selph and Ilar''s family attempting to hide amidst the Elven Devil and his Troupe while an animated skull spun a tale that made their faces concernedly crease. With the House''s monks and martial types in the Tower of Might with Two Heart, the House''s arcane types in the Arcane Tower with Eban, and the House priestesses in G''eldantaar at the cavern''s apex, the slaves and the lesser House Nydorden were all that was left to be changed or destroyed; other than the House''s structure, destabilized by the collapse of the Prime Matron''s mycelium network she had Daulery spread. I cared for none of them then, just like now. The slaves, my sisters, even my brothers. Raki, however, I cared about, and she had a pair of slave servants since we could speak. Naturally¡­


    "Raydron and Myr." She stepped forward. "I will return for them and those they oversaw, and I will remain for the sacking of House Bardones-Psellus."


    "Why?" I stepped forward. "We are free. Why would you remain for the Second Eye?"


    "To build my foundation for the future."


    "We''re going to raid House Yril''Lysaen, by the by." Geri carelessly tossed her hand. "Hunt some demonic sorcerers and all that mess."


    "You didn''t tell her?" Blude asked in disbelief.


    "Yeah. Just now." Geri nodded, then sighed in exasperation after receiving a side eye from the Gerdian. "I didn''t have the time! She changed, hunted, and we came straight here!"


    Blude said nothing, continuing her side eye even as her lips pursed and she blew... water. A bubble of rich blue water that swelled to twice her size before she blew it away, invoking a ripple that cleared the waters to reveal the Falls seen from above.


    "Alright." Geri gave a heavy sigh once Blude and Raki drifted through. "Here''s our plan for the House of Webbed Demons."


    ***


    Raki ''Rippa'' Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    While my mind was focused before, I emerged in the Falls''s basin distracted and confused. Pervasive worries over the potential distance that might grow between me and Ruel pulled my thoughts back to our safe house while I followed the Mafia to the lake formed on the ceiling by Blude. Only then, with some repose, did I notice the vast changes to the Falls that''d been my home. An eldritch fog of magical darkness filled the cavern to the brim, carrying strange motes of golden light around the ceiling and walls as it flowed and swirled amidst the movements of those lost within the clouds. I could feel it, yet I could still see the endless shades of gray I always saw when looking over the Falls, now held together by the demon''s webs and the divine roots of G''eldantaar alone.


    The banks had been muddied by dust that crept to the knees of working slaves, creating a breeding ground for the army of twilit creatures pouring from the half-elf''s giant flower. From it came a strange deep gnome and two beings I''d only read about in tales. Vampyr and undead shadows, led by the largest, most powerful drow I''d ever seen. She towered over me, Ruel, Blude, and even Geri and Freki like children. Her feathered robe trailed umbral wisps around her as a physical thing, as it was lacking the vibrancy of the red-black arcana flowing off her and the more subtle spark seen in the one she - Sovereign Galendra approached.


    I felt all the things one would feel when standing before a great beast when looking at her address those she arrived with, making me believe she was much more than a curiously large drow, yet such conjectures were cut short by a great scratching that was now familiar to my eyes. Sovereign Galendra was on them before I could turn, standing face to face with the celestial twins and the wolves at their sides to demand they take her to Him.


    I gave Blude a nod once the mob of wolves began leading the eccentric beings, then swam after them, delving into the stealth skills I''d developed over the years. Yet this massive drow was even more adept, melding into the darkness as easily as the undying shadow trailing her, even while her barren feet slapped against the stone at a dutiful pace.


    When the lesser House Nydorden got within spell range, her presence had entirely vanished, yet her voice trailed through the thick darkness all the same. "Be unrelenting, reborn elves of the Night. Bite those you wish to employ. Kill or leave the rest. The Nox''s judge will free them all!"


    I needed no telling; albeit for different reasons. I was a traitorous sinner worthy of a thousand deaths in Lilith''s eight, wretched eyes; a million in my mother''s. While she, my elder sisters, Matron Nydorden, and her daughters were in their tower, their countless spiders were not, and I had not the luxury of a lithe form like my twin.


    I swam above the stalking wolves, hardly fluid in my motions, yet I grew more confident as we pressed further into the lesser House, for the darkness thickened into a dense smoke that blocked even the sounds of massacre, leaving us unprepared for the mounds of spiders we saw within; ripped apart, sliced by claws, and smashed by something powerful enough to destroy their demonic chitin and the stone they stood on. Questions formed as we came upon the first slaves and the drow who oversaw them, found in every state between cowering in piss and on their deathbeds, yet somehow clinging to life. My former slaves, most of them, but Ruel''s too, not to mention the soldiers of House Nydorden.


    Despite my earlier convictions, I paused, if only to figure out how I would convince them to join me once they awoke or if I even should. The attempt floated my eyes around the surrounding carnage. So many drow were dead and dying, and more were to come once the other Houses fell, all after such big words of freeing the drow who wished to get away from the Demon Spider, if only to shift their zeal to a different deity. The Eternal One, sent by the creator himself to embody a vessel split between the blood of Drow and the Nox, the ancient clan of Darkness, Death, and Void.


    Death.


    My eyes fell on a nearby doorway as the word echoed in my mind, forming a concept that made me remember his monastic class and thus paved the way to understanding. Death, to the Nox, was freedom from the suffering of life. A doorway that shifted the body and altered the spirit of those who crossed its threshold. Yet their souls remained intact, as did their minds. Just as I chose to live in death instead of remaining among the dead, so would they in limbo, after I send them to meet the eternal god of this universe.


    With my conviction strengthened, I spread my will across the room to pull and gather my former slaves around me, no matter how wounded they were, and dragged them behind me as I marched through the lesser house, moving faster with each grotesque spider corpse I passed while the echoes of bites and howls rang behind us. They numbered in the hundreds by the time we came upon the House''s rear entrance, wherein I stopped. It was only natural for the slaves given to me before we could stand to run to me in this, the end times of chaos; the birth of eternal order.


    Raydron came to me first, screaming. "Madame! Madame!" while she led Myr by the arm. "Some¡­ thing, prowls the House, Madame!" She stopped before me, shuddering. "I''ve never seen anything like it. The spiders are-"


    "I care not about spiders." I huffed with a wave, taking a long look at the slaves gathered behind the two.


    "T - then we care not!" Raydron said, clenching her brown eyes shut in anticipation while she and those countless others kneeled. "Serving you is our life, Madame. Even if the House is no more; even if your eyes are no longer red, we serve."


    It felt¡­ strange to see their misplaced reverence for me. They were not unlike me just days ago, before my brother returned to these Falls as the Eternal Champion''s Champion - a god who walked among mortals. I gave my all for the Prime Matron, yet it was never enough. I would have gladly died for the Spider had I failed to meet her unyielding expectations. In a way, I had, and now the roles had reversed. The Eternal Champion was my God, and while not much time had passed since my rebirth, he demanded nothing of me; and my new Matriarch had given me all. I was shown what a true God is. My misplaced reverence had since been corrected, but had not yet grown into zeal. And so¡­


    "Raydron, Myr, would you die for me?"


    The fear gripping their hearts eased, for they had long since realized that death was preferable to a lifetime of punishment, and so they readily answered. "Yes, Madame."


    "Unmercifully, I died by the hands of Blude, and have since been born anew," I said, looking deeper into their eyes - their souls - than I would have before. "I am joining the Eternal Champion in his undying march. If you wish to continue serving me, you must do the same. Die by my hand, mercifully so. But know that I give you mercy because you are weak. I will put you out of your misery, thereby freeing you from this life of suffering. In death you will become strong, having been reborn into a house of my making; House Rippa. Sink into the abyss or swim into my service, make your choice on Death''s door."


    I waited not for their response, just like Blude waited not to crush my jaw and beat me to the brink of death. I bit into their sides and fished around their livers like my High Matriarch had done to me, filling the organs with my power and tossing them to disperse into a stream of particles and reform in the heavens above, where Rippa''s pod waited.


    I waited not for the pools of water to sink them into my Uma far above to continue into House Za''Darmondiel to see much the same as before, dead spiders and confused slaves; plus many things moving in the shadows that even I struggled to discern. We passed the forsaken wing of Mala and Daulery and found it caved in. We passed the treasury and found it barren, occupied only by pervasive darkness, broken holy symbols, dead spiders, and black fire. We entered our wing and gathered items from our past lives; clothes, toolkits, weapons, equipment, grimoires, and diaries; all surrounded by dead spiders, black fire, and confused slaves.


    It felt strange, looking at those wretched corpses with no hints of fear or apprehension of Lilith''s punishment - the only things I knew besides anger and disgust at any transgression toward her. What was stranger was that I felt the same way about the slaves. I looked at them with neither pity nor contempt; even Raydron and Myr. Just like before, my only genuine concern was my sister, walking through the House by my side. So I believed, until we came upon the lore chamber, where Amun was last seen, only to find him and Sovereign Galendra gone. Only Wilson and Rickley remained, the former grasping a bony, metallic wand while the latter stared at the empty bottles scattered around the boots of Ilar and her children.

 401 - The Elven Devils Gambit

    Ilar Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    "Well? Is that not the case?"


    "He told us you were dangerously intuitive, Ilar. You and your family." I turned to the first words the human said since entering, finding him smirking at me while several bottles sat between us; one of which he handed to the Lore Keeper. "You too, Selph; although Amun has a job in mind for you. Eban and your twin sisters, even Two-Heart. He told us you all were pragmatic and unblinded by piety enough to see the merit of joining Telin''s Champion during this, the birth of his empire. He told me of your alchemical talent, passed down to your daughters. To that end, Ilar Za''Darmondiel, I have a proposition for you, your daughters, Ryldin and Viconia, and their children. In a sense¡­" Wilson gestured to the vials of an eldritch night-black liquid. "A gambit."


    "As do I," Rickley sang. "But for Phoruca, Aufa, and theirs."


    "A gamble for my entire family at my little brother''s behest." I huffed, approaching the wall Wilson occupied. I was not known for gambling, just as I was not known for piety. Like potions, everything I did, every choice I made, was calculated and measured, based on the product of verified truths, close observation, and experimentation, divided by common sense. Yet, some things had changed.


    I turned to my daughters and those others scattered behind and above them to clarify one last thing. "Everything we have known is coming to an end. Perhaps we knew this would pass all along, given the title we gave him. Yet it is unlike anything we could have prepared for. That I could have, at least. I do not know what the future holds. Yet I know which path I will take. What path you choose, and what you do from this point forward, is up to you. I hope you make the correct choice."


    With my words spent, I reached for the closest of those night-black vials to spread the weave across it, awaking my perks to read upon its contents as I always had; and as I always had, I felt the curtain of paranoia rising in tune with the steps of my daughters behind me. Even then - even with the fear of being stabbed in my back, I was not hasty. Everything would be calculated and measured.


    [Deeyalber Extract, also known as the Elven Devil''s Gambit, is a wicked concoction that causes an accursed evolution in its consumer, based on their morality and lineage, changing them into an Undying Fiend, or something else entirely.]


    "Me and my daughters either become like you or¡­" I paused, knowing I could not even fathom such possibilities. "In exchange for what?"


    "A partnership," Wilson said, staring deep into my eyes with knowing and intent.


    "Your flattery is amusing, Wilson. However, you should have retained some years if a partnership is your aim." I jested, amused by his choice of words. Yet he cared not for any innuendos, holding his focus on us and the pervasive darkness pouring through every entrance like smoke.


    "I have businesses and a military unit I need overseers and commanders for. To Viconia and her three daughters, who manage House Za''Darmondiel''s treasury, I offer the stations of proprietor and managers of the Rogues Gallery. It sells¡­ tools to rogues and others aligned with, as they call it, the forces of evil. I offer the same station in the Eldritch Bazaar for Ryldin and her children, who sorted the spoils of war and managed the House''s trade networks. The Bazaar sells magical, cursed, or tainted objects to warlocks with, shall we say, underappreciated patrons. As for you, Ilar, I offer the station of the Geneva Counsel''s Director. The Council is composed of elite destroyers who use every chemical, substance, and foul energy I''ve learned to create to spread death, darkness, and destruction in Amun''s name."


    Naturally, a silence ensued. A paranoid, whispering silence filled with the echoing thoughts of my daughters doing as I taught them, multiplying close observations, verified truths, and whatever thought experiments we could theorise before dividing them against common sense to determine the best choice. Speaking pragmatically, as all drow did, agreeing was the best way to survive into the future and more, witness Telin''s Champion make his mark on the Mortal Plane. Yet some things remained unclear. Or at the very least, ignored.


    "A gambit indeed." I huffed. "Two of them, even. Or, one and the illusion of one, rather. We are already heretics. Traitors. I''m shocked the spiders haven''t come for us already, but they will come in time. Even if we escape from these falls, it will not be over. For this is the beginning of a divine war that will persist for eons across the Mortal Plane, just as the Queen Demon Spider wishes. Gambit or none, we will die. Life or undeath, we will be hunted."


    "You misunderstand, Ilar. There''s always a choice." A charming pitch pulled my eyes to Rickley, chiming her strange pendant with my daughters nearby, clutching their vials readily. "Self-preservation makes you think it an impossible one, however. Call that a curse of mortality. In reality, the choice is simple. Die by the Spider and remain dead, or die by the Nox and be reborn. Hunted, but free."


    "The only choice you don''t have is how long you get to decide." Wilson huffed, peeling back his sleeve to reveal a skeletal arm wreathed in familiar metals. "I tire of looking at this fucking place." He sneered, plucking his middle finger off to grip it like a wand.


    "You and me both," I murmured, giving my bottle a contemplative swirl until the sound of approaching footsteps bore paranoia, which bore haste.


    I felt all my warmth fade from my body as the essence spread from my mouth, leaving a shell of my former self to stare at my little sisters storming into the room before I collapsed. I looked to the side and saw my daughters in the same station as me - dying while Rickley played our dying song and Wilson drew a pair of circles with his wand, ensuring the arcana overlapped to inscribe the Glyph of Fusion before his cupped palm.


    I felt my breath becoming labored as Wilson deeply inhaled, releasing something foul from his palm while reeling back to exhale a dense jet of red dragon''s breath into that foulness. Human elemental manipulation contained the conflagration within one of the Glyph''s circles to be corrupted into pure black flames dissimilar to the Moil of yore, for its blistering heat burned through the darkness creeping from my peripherals. Simultaneously, my withering senses detected a flourish within Wilson''s spirit, mixing something wicked with something foul to conjure a stream of acid to flow from his wand into the Glyph''s remaining circle, where it brightened and rushed into the center to fuse with the shadowy fire and pour through the house like a flood.


    It corrupted everything in its wake. Faerie Flames flickered and bloomed into nightly violet conflagrations while the statues they wreathed melted into bubbling black lava. Magical items began going haywire, flaring or exploding into arcane flashes all around us while the furniture burned, releasing a deathly smoke that obscured the stones and stalactites, already loosened by the withered mushrooms, falling all around us; adding a percussive rhythm to the macabre tone of Rickley Ravenbrook''s instrument.


    Although I drank my potion willingly, something within me refused to just lie down and die, thus I used the last of my will to produce a mana veil and arcane shields that were easily eaten away as if by acid, rendering me to the same fate as the furniture, magical items, Faerie Flames, and statues.


    I was not known for gambling, just as I was not known for piety. Like potions, everything I did, every choice I made, was calculated and measured, based on the product of verified truths, close observation, and experimentation, divided by common sense. And so, in the moments before the darkness consumed me, my flesh burnt away, and the acid dissolved what was left, I did not believe I would arise; I knew I would.


    ¡ª¡ª


    I was not, and then I was. I knew not when it happened or even if it did at all. If there was any feeling to be registered, it was the feeling of leaving home for what would be some time; perhaps forever. That was all I could notice before I latched onto various inputs from my senses and began reaching, pushing out my will until my mind had enough command over my body to wake me with a breathless startle.


    I had risen, yet was laying where I''d never been before, in the lower cavern of Zimysta Falls, up near the ceiling where a tree with vibrant leaves had been planted. I was still wet from that fiery acid; superficially, at least. It clung harmlessly to my exposed ribs, now blackened with the same green-tinted metal and gilded accents found on Wilson''s arm, plus something silver.


    I looked around to see nearly similar skeletons in the places my family had been, wearing their clothes - Wilson too; all with the same adamantine-limned skeletons ingrained and inlaid with angular silver and gold patterns. Phoruca and Aufa were the exceptions, who, like Rickley, were more like zombies with their black or otherwise dull organs writhing in their metallic rib cages.


    I subconsciously opened my grimoire as I found my feet and read about the changes in my body. Changes I heard echoed from vocal chords made of necrotic arcana. "Undying Fae."


    "Further augmented by my hand," Wilson replied in his grating voice. "Your skeletons have been inlaid with mithral and gold, as well as the adamantine I have on mine. That should amplify your arcane abilities tremendously. Phoruca and Aufa have a bit more organs, though. If any of you want some, you''ll have to drink some of my potions."


    I could hardly focus on the words, for the implications of what transpired struck me in tandem with the faces of my grandsons, staring warily amidst Raki and Ruel with Geri, Freki, Blude, and Reina within these changed - nay, destroyed caverns.


    Akin to what I saw in the House before, the natural darkness in the Falls was more potent, nearly snuffing out the Faerie Flames spread throughout, or worse, corrupting them to burn gold rather than red or violet. Magical darkness wreathed the cavern walls and ceiling as if it were a burning sea, releasing billowing clouds of gilded motes to illuminate the Towers of Arcana and Might, the remaining Eyes and Legs, the red crown of G''eldantaar, and the unassuming warehouse placed directly beneath it.


    Like my family and this Troupe, however, I could not focus on the fallen Zimysta, for I was distracted by the changes to my body. I could hardly come to terms with my exposed skeleton, still capable of feeling, albeit¡­ distantly. I felt separated from everything, yet connected through my spirit. The true boon of an Undying Fae, I presumed. Like a Living Lich of the Nox perhaps, but in drow form.


    A haunting thrum of strings captured my attention, bringing my eyes to Rickley, giving us a flourishing bow. "Welcome to the land of the undying!"


    "You would do well to learn some manners from this one, Wilson, should you wish for that¡­ partnership." I teased, aiming to find some sanity in this maddening situation, only to fail once I found my voice as grating as his.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    "What has happened to this place?" Viconia asked. Then added. "To the House."


    "Well, you see, this tree of Twilight opened the door for some creatures to come through, and they really like spiders." Rickley snickered."


    "Ugh!" Wilson groaned. "The Shadowfire Acid I released melted or burned the remains of House Za''Darmondiel before it seeped into the stone, where it will remain for a tenday before off-gassing in a limnic eruption to kill off everyone else. In the meantime, Amun will be with Leary and Sovereign Galendra in the Tower of Might, where they''ll eventually recruit Two-Heart and a few others before they move on to the Heart Keeper. As for the Twilight you see here, it''s connected to the heart of the Black Plume - Amun''s cult - much deeper and a few countries away."


    "Which means Amun''s divine power surrounds a significant area around the Falls; perhaps all of Shujen." I surmised. "The Spider''s power is concentrated in a few remaining bastions within these Falls; the Towers of Might and Arcana, G''eldantaar, the Eight Eyes and Legs, and¡­"


    "This guild of slavers." Rickley thrummed in bardic fashion. "Amun hates slavers, so we''re going to destroy it. You can come if you want. It''ll give you a chance to get used to your new¡­ nature."


    "When?" was all I asked. In return, all I got was a wicked grin from the little halfling before she joined her troupe in erecting their arms to point at the stalagmite belonging to Adin''agh. Together, their spirits shone in a multitude of colors as complex spells wove into being at their fingertips and released arcs of white, red, blue, green, and twilight.


    Carried forth by a macabre percussion born from Rickley''s beating on her bosom, the spells rained on the unsuspecting stalagmite, crashing and smashing to smother water, ice, fire, acid, and more atop the powerful wards, long since emplaced to deflect, nullify, counter, and absorb such attacks. They cared not about their spells returning to them, however. As the smoldering undead dwarf at Rickley''s side chanted a hymn of destruction, they unleashed consecutive barrages with a greater ferocity over a larger area.


    If anything, I was impressed by their lack of restraint. Their spellcraft left much to be desired, however, and I was morbidly curious about the extent of my new abilities, so I raised my arms to weave my most potent anti-warding spells and sent them on their way.


    Mine was a stark contrast to this troupe''s spells. Nigh undetectable, the strands of arcana corkscrewed on their descent, splitting and duplicating to whip around and attack the phantasmal shields from all angles, infecting their glyphs and foundations to wither them to dust. Even after their spells continued, most of the structure was left intact and the occupants unscathed. Regardless, the magical defenses were down, thus the Troupe moved in to engage. Undead first.


    The former King and Queen of Shujen, two bloated men, and an armored undead emerged from the shadows of Geri, Freki, Blude, Rickley, and Wilson with poise, directing their companies of undead toward the stalagmite whilst their necromancers trailed at a leisurely pace behind them, preceded by us: Undying Fae.


    Still, I could notice no changes beyond the obvious lack of body functions and the cold emotions I faced, thus I turned my attention on those stronger undead seeming to cause wanton destruction while their minions darted to the embrasures lining the compacted surface with haste, placing exploding satchels or destroying the walls with sheer might to gain access to the maze within. Then they appeared, and I felt something at last.


    Fury rose from the memories of being raised in this wretched place. Disgust for those foul creatures of fleshy chitin. Hatred for the Demon Spiders and their queen. And it seemed I was not the only one, for my children soon dove into the fray, uncaring of the remaining traps and reactivated wards set between them.


    I began to give chase when my skeletonized hand gave me pause, if only to chastise myself. I still thought like a mortal, despite acknowledging my undying nature. Unfearing, yet still hesitant in the face of danger. A novel approach was needed. Something calculated and measured, based on the sum of a central objective, the context of observation, and my abilities, multiplied by violence of action.


    Two giant demon spiders were poised on either side of the guild''s main entrance ahead, shepherding the several hundred combat slaves moving behind fortified outcroppings to arc spells and arrows overhead or ducking into tunnels under the fire to counter our assault; another was poised far to our right, where it opposed Blude and Geri on their way to the guild''s rear; leaving one that maneuvered behind us to be pounced on by Freki and his many beasts of earth and fire.


    Knowing the approaching wall of slaves were given weapons of steel and bone, I let their blows clang and rattle against my adamantine bones while I focused inward on the twin scimitars forged in my spirit. They crackled into existence just as the two demon spiders came into range, causing them to reel back in disbelief at my heresy as I grabbed hold of the ambient arcana and flourished.


    A river of projected slashes fell into the dense chitin with a flurry of dull thuds before the slaves were forced between us, releasing a shower of viscous liquid to mix with the sprays of Zimysta falling nearby. Arms were rent, bodies were disemboweled, and the terrain was becoming more impassable by the second, yet the fear of those retched things saw their slaves charge into my deathly embrace, giving the spiders'' fleshy chitin a chance to seal their many scratches and scars.


    The overseers of Adin''agh appeared not long after, rushing from the entrance to predetermined points along the stalagmite''s surface to make rain quarrels and spells. Although they were blinded by the wicked darkness pervading the Falls, that mattered not when all drow heightened their remaining five senses to fight in magical darkness and were in the company of spiders who could see through such things.


    I reacted before they could gain their bearings, arcing back with a transmutation spell gathered in my blade before it lashed upward. The crescent blade arced high above and split into jagged shards of arcana that shifted, condensed and congealed into a myriad of colors before my blade descended, casting a torrent of lightning, acid, and explosive blades that rained down on their demonic overlords; all the while, slaves threw themselves at me.


    I got my true test when an orcish slave caught me with a sledgehammer. The orc''s strength, coupled with the hammer''s mass, saw me be thrown several meters from any foothold; thus I fell many meters before tumbling against the cavern''s slope. Yet the pain was distant. Moreover, I noticed a crawling itch overcome me once I slayed the slaves who meant to capitalize on my misstep: an itch that coincided with the growing ease of my swings and thrusts.


    That ease saw my projected slashes scar the spider''s fleshy chitin at last, making me engage with more fervor. In bolstering more arcana than I ever would, I cleared the distance with a leap and wove the ambient arcana into webs that pulled and yanked my body into a violent dance with the clumps of waxy webs arcing from the demon spiders, slowing, rising, and falling out of their paths until I was directly above them.


    I was not pious. Yet it seemed I had grown zealous in my actions, for the arcane string that pulled me between the spider''s legs was too much. All I perceived was a blur of black, beige, and red before the sound of crashing consumed my senses. I felt an impact that would have killed me before, yet with an adamantine skeleton, I only felt the pressure of stone lodged against my body coupled with a dense mass crashing against my head, banging against my spirit to inflict a foul pain I felt I hadn''t experienced in years.


    Gripping the arcana within the stone rather than the stone itself, I pushed until the assuring sounds of cracking stone reverberated through my frame and pushed more, only to hear a foul hiss before another flash of pain speared through my belly. I shook, was jostled, and managed to gaze down at the demon spider''s cruel leg wedged between my ribs before the reverberations returned in force.


    Clutching the spider''s leg, I let out a contemptuous hiss of effort and hissed louder as the pressure spiked, bringing the steaming maw of writhing waxy fangs closer to my face to hiss something foul.


    Knowing what was coming, I ignored the hot, waxy venom spewing from its maw and focused on the arcana in my well. Twin streams of arcane cold and wind soon poured from my spirit, flowing up the mithral in my spine to converge in my maw, forming the working fluid of a shrill whistle that blasted from my lipless mouth.


    The spear of gelid wind barreled through the falling venom before breaking apart into a rainfall of blades that bit into the spider''s maw like focused rain, gashing and smashing its writhing fangs before freezing the carnage over. While insignificant, it was enough for me to break free and leap with bolstered force to recast my arcane strings, and with more control, I dragged my blades across its hind leg, finding purchase on the joint to inflict another shallow wound.


    Cursing loudly, I slung my body in the opposite direction and poured the remnants of my spell into my forged blades before lashing out at the same target.


    At last.


    The feeling of demon flesh being carved through by my forged spirit was the greatest ecstasy; like the most powerful potion mixed with the most euphoric drugs, working in tandem to enhance every aspect of my being. It subconsciously emboldened my attacks, making my actions nigh autonomous; my movements indiscernible, even to me. All I saw and smelled was the blur of Zimysta falling in every direction. All I felt and heard were my tendons creaking and popping from my lethally changing velocity. All I tasted and sensed was demon flesh and a wicked spirit frantically healing its damage.


    I''d raked the demon spider''s body twice more by the time my momentum slowed enough to gain my bearings. The legs were hardly hanging on, yet that merited nothing more than a curse from me, given their healing factors.


    In broadening my senses, I spotted a team of drow slaves aiming at me and resumed my flow, releasing the same Frostbitten Gust through my mouth as a ruse while I slung myself around to close the distance and line them up for one fell swoop. Once again emboldened by success, I harvested a few slaves as I rounded back for the spider.


    Finally.


    Finally, I was coming to understand what it meant to be an Undying Fae, which meant I could finally end this battle. And so, I took as much arcana from my surroundings as possible and poured half of my arcane well into my blades before zipping toward the spider with haste. My blades slithered through its first leg and continued through the second before the concentrated power within flowed through its edge, projecting an ethereal violet blade to hack through the third leg and carve a deep gouge into the stone beneath it. My next pass carved through two legs from the other spider, causing it to stumble and scramble to cast a large web to stabilize itself.


    Huffing in contempt, I spun more webs to the detached legs and pulled myself into an orbit around them, accelerating further with each pass as I flailed my five lines with gusto, for they were aided by my tempest. The jagged spires for legs rose and swung around the battlefield at alarming speeds and accelerated further once their lines caught stalagmites, outcroppings, or arcane hoods; digging into them to pull their loads taut, swing them toward those wretched things, and release, just as my line pulled me beneath its legs with my blades poised low.


    While they were flung at all angles, the strings connecting the legs pulled them all to the same point I shot toward with blades raised high. Like a gory drumroll, the spider''s legs impaled it from its eyes to its spinnerets just before I I passed beneath it, skating atop my metallic feet while the remaining half of my arcane well met my will and flowed down the mithral in my arms and into my swords, rising to carve into the beasts belly just as it finally lost its footing.


    Amidst that blur, I perceived my most powerful spell to date as a flash of white, coupled with a great release. Then, I could only feel hot, viscous ichor spilling over me, making me itch madly all over, followed by a resounding crack from far above. I gazed up in time to see a great fissure open up along Zimysta''s distant ceiling, then looked down before witnessing the cascade to see my daughters standing among their slain spider, scratching at bits of muscle and fat growing on their limbs.


    They began to speak when the cascade came. Not the rocks falling from above, but a torrent of water gushing from the stalagmite''s entrance, pushing out frozen blocks that turned out to be bodies as they flowed into a nearby depression to thaw.


    "It was sloppy. Many drow and spiders escaped, but the guild is shattered and we took everything." Turning, I saw Wilson wobbling forward with much of his skin regrown; though he still looked¡­ dissatisfying. Especially when he smiled. "It''s a win."


    "I did not take you for one who would go through so much trouble for gold." I huffed.


    "Well, Blude stole all their money; Rickley took their art; Freki ravaged their food stores; Geri stole everything but the silverware. Furniture, clothes, trinkets- you name it. She''s greedy in that way."


    "Cry about it!"


    "And you?" I asked, making a curious note of Geri''s response. Before Wilson''s childish smirk, at least.


    "I took their weapons and wands," he snarkily said. "They''ll be upgraded into something quite wicked indeed."


    "I can''t wait to see." I hummed, turning my semi-grown eye over the flooded stalagmite and the thawed slaves surrounding it, staring at Rickley, thrumming a tune that caused shivers in the dead before they rose with purpose; or healed through some unseen force. "And what of them?" I motioned to them.


    Wilson answered with a single word, chanted with raised fists toward the crowd. "Riot!"

 402 - Drow Might

    Iris Cole.


    30th of Quintetas, 1492.


    Dust Plains, Central Zimysta Falls. Shujen Kingdom Dark Sky. Depth: 247,231 km.


    09:13.


    ***


    I spent more than a day watching their House from afar, scanning and probing the ostentatious designs hidden beneath the stone. House Hun''ana was a palace of cruel elegance hidden in plain sight. Like the other houses, the sole point of entry was the leftmost edifice beneath the two oppressive orbs of the first two houses; a giant face in its own right, wreathed in the red flames of the faerie. Within, however, was something marvelous.


    Ground penetrating radar, arcana, and vital scans unveiled a labyrinth of tunnels on top of tunnels on top of tunnels. Not in the sense one would use for locomotion or logistics, but spider tunnels, wreathed in crimson webs. Burrows, built by the grotesque tarantulas of Lilith''s domain.


    As far I could tell, the only unbroken path from the entry was a a thoroughfare leading straight to the slave wing several dozen kilometers away. A veritable castle carved out of a rich concentration of common and precious metals - their first mine. Behind that was their industrial area, a city built like an assembly line. As torture, their finest slave artisans worked tirelessly within eyesight of the resting quarters they desperately awaited, their stations being fed by the fields of casting rigs and refineries behind them. Just like the crucibles were fed by the pulverizing stations, which fed the sorting facilities, fed from storage depots filled by the mines stretching back for leagues.


    With all that industry, they still had more slaves than they could handle. Indeed, there were many dwarven slaves, including gray dwarves, gnomes both deep and not; elves, and even drow, but doubly so dwarves. They bore hearty machines that could bear the grit of ages with no complaints. Simple structures crafted so finely it made experts marvel at their work. It was a shame. I hoped the grandeur of House Hun''ana would have borne more fruit. What was seen here went little beyond excavation, metallurgy, and basic crafting en masse. Jewels, chalices, and trinkets were made unceasingly, destined to be sold or stored in some room and forgotten. Only the lucky fulfilled their purpose. Weapons and tools were forged without end or sent to lie alongside an unmoving body of arms for years. Industry poured deep into the stone, yet all they had to show for it were the basics. Toys even a child could make. No machines, unique armor, powerful weapons, or even enchantments to set them above the other houses. Only an abundance of slaves and more metals than they knew what to do with.


    It was a waste. A waste that became a cruel joke after calculating the potential of their industrious drive paired with such resources. A potential only two members of their house saw, for it had been beaten out of the rest.


    It was a potential I would soon realize. In both of them and this House.


    I gazed upon their profiles as I watched them stalk through the Falls from afar and saw the suggested truths align with reality. As the Abyssal Regent pointed out, they were drow of exceptional poise and pride; as expected of the daughters of a High Matron. Pious, yet militant and industrious beings who studied war, strategy, and guild history, as well as artisanal crafts and artificing, just as I had.  But only because her mother''s clergy had already been filled. Or rather, because they weren''t given the freedom to do much else.


    They walked with a dozen drow slaves. All males, of course, and each pair of slaves had an overseer, with two of them being their brothers, Z''rett and Z''benna; all trailing the daughters like nervous colts - another suggested truth verified.


    Not only did they have more slaves than they knew what to do with, they had more drow than they could deal with. Lesser drow, survivors from past raids on houses erased from the annals of history; nameless drow taken from off the ''street''; the forsaken members of the family; all enslaved or, at best, given meaningless tasks to carry out until their end of days. Just like their goddess decreed to their matrons.


    A sudden click pulled my eyes away from her for just a second. A second later, digital visages of the Troupe were scattered across my vision like a rainbow, with a rendering of Etan''s stoic visage centered in my optics a moment later, preceding the echoes of his mind across the Net.


    {"The disappearance of Ruel and the families of Ilar, Daulery, and Mala; as well as Raki''s defeat has trickled up the web to the High Matrons. They left this pit and are now performing a ritual of some kind. I can feel it. The High Priestesses remain here, ordering their Priestesses to send their spiders to capture more of our kind. Those they think to be traitors. Worry not. I will liberate those who come."}


    {"There are only three left on the list."} The GM said next. {"Two Heart, our future Mage, and my Valkyrie to-be."}


    {"And I''ll have my M&M''s soon."}


    {"Your what?"} Freki chimed in.


    {"Marine Machines. Or MycoMithral Marines. Either or."} I explained, taking a final look at the drow and her cohort before I got underway. {"The beacons are in place. Moving to RP One."}


    {"We... should be finished with the tap by the time the last ones are rounded up,"} Reina cryptically said, followed by Blude.


    {"We''re staying out here with Rippa until it''s time. She''s got a lot to learn."}


    {"Same."} Geri chimed in.


    {"Is¡­"} Freki hesitated. {"Sovereign Galendra going to be there?"}


    {"I am!"} Her voice rattled my soul like a roar compared to Freki''s whisper. {"And I can hear your howling quite clearly."}


    {"Our souls are connected."} Dad told them. {"Everything I sense, she senses, and vice versa."}


    {"Fear not."} She said. {"You stand in the shade of the Elven Devil''s wings. Therefore, you stand in the shade of mine. The same cannot be said for these Drow and their precious Spider, however."}


    I couldn''t agree more.


    ***


    Evar ''Two-Heart'' Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    Mii''etus Praesyris. The Tower of Might. It seemed so different during this fateful time. For nearly seven centuries, the place had seemed so mundane. Throughout all that time, these times were the only ones wherein I gazed upon it with the ardor I did as a young drow. The perspective I gained when I reflected on the trials I faced back then was¡­ indescribable.


    The wide gaps in the bridges that had seemed so daunting before were now less than trivial for me to levitate across; scaling the scaffolding of web holding them in place far away from the walls was like walking- effortless; leaping to and fro the scattered boulders and platforms was like second nature; the long flights of stairs trailing off every Eye, Leg, and wall of the upper cavern took no stamina to traverse. I had always wondered how He would react to it all, the being of prophecy we all obsessed about. The one I heard both so much and so little about. What I didn''t think to consider until now, however, was what his troupe thought of it.


    I was not one to look down on another species like so many drow - or elves, even. Of course, I had my limits. Like many, I would neither breed with nor work for anything other than a drow, the Nox notwithstanding. I did not think them lesser, however. Only that they were of different natures, burdened with different purposes, unknown though some of them may be. I knew that with enough training and experience, or simply enough passion, humans could become formidable adversaries, for I faced them in battle just as I''d faced the heartiest of dwarves, the most cunning elves, the most charming halflings, and the craftiest gnomes. I knew more about those creatures than any book could teach. Thus, I knew those in his employ were mighty indeed.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Therein formed my source of disappointment when I saw not all of them trailing the Eternal Champion. Trailing him was the so-called goblin ''paragon,'' Leary, riding atop some strange creature of bone, fur, and undeath. Beside him was the adopted daughter of Amun - something that came as a shock to us all; an outrage to many. For, unlike the others he adopted, Iris seemed¡­ innocent. Untouched by death and darkness, despite the coldness within her. So far beyond a being born from or even granted blood by the source of all ''evil'' like the Nox. Yet, the most primal part of me couldn''t help but believe it to be a masterful facade.


    She was exceptionally dangerous.


    Her face was amiable but her eyes were analytical, glowing with a yellow vibrancy as they scanned the tower behind me like I would a fine blade. Yet, they shifted to the same blue as her tunic before they fell to me, matching the innocence of her smile. Jewels of divine radiance covered her head, forming a tiara and earrings of curious forms. Almost like¡­ weapons.


    Most curious was the drow at Amun''s side. She was¡­ magnificent, to say the least. Powerful in every sense of the word. Two meters tall, at least, and dangerously beautiful. Divine, even, with a cruelty in her gold-speckled irises that the Matrons could never hope to match. Nor could they hope to match the silken robes flowing off of her, melding with the shadows as if they were part of her dress, despite its dazzling display of dark jewels similar to the headdress cradling her skull. Even then, I approached them without a second thought, nodding to the lot of them before I motioned for them to follow.


    "Greetings, Amun and company, and welcome to the Tower of Might. I am Evar Za''Darmondiel, the cohort of the Prime Matron; dubbed ''Two-Heart'' due to my¡­ propensity for producing twins. Indeed, I am the father of the fifth and sixth daughters, Raki and Ruel Za''Darmondiel, besides the first and second sons, Etan and Eban Za''Darmondiel. Officially, my title is War Master of the House. In this context, however, I am the High Councilor of this tower."


    "Oh, we''re doing titles." Amun childishly snickered, seemingly to himself. Yet everyone among him mimicked his sentiment while he began reaching into his coat at a cautiously slow pace. "In that case, I am Amun, the Twenty-Fifth Child of the Nox, Son of Emeric Cole and... Eved. I am the Grand Duke of the Odissian Empire and the Eternal Emperor of Eotromenia. Guild Master of the Legio Noctis. The Undying Reaper. The Elven Devil. The World Weaver. The Grand ArcaTech. Telin''s Eternal Champion. God of Mana."


    Grinning widely, he withdrew an all-too-familiar object that made my heart fall as my hand rose to the not so dissimilar brooch pinning my cloak to my shoulders. Then he returned it to the darkness just as quickly as it appeared. But not quickly enough for it to remain unseen. ''It'' being both the item and the implications it carried.


    "I am Leary, the Faithful. Goblin Paragon. Goblin God-Emperor. Undying Fiend. Ruler of the Unkempt. Abyssal Marshal of the Nox Legions. The Sovereign of Bone. The First Super Villain. Commander of Mick Green. Proprietor of Bonewater Refinery."


    "I am Iris Cole. Daughter of Amun, who carries her father''s blood. The First Augmented Human. The Divine Princess of Eotrom. Divine Mother of the Technica Dominion. Praefectus Noctis. Goddess of Technology, Militaries, Recycling; and Information."


    "Sovereign Galendra." The towering drow said, looking down on me with an uncanny smirk while darkness rippled off her in waves.


    Such answers - and the item shown by Amun - left me at a loss for words. I was so distracted by their answers I could only continue recounting my steps to the tower, only speaking over my shoulder several minutes later. "This is the tower of least concern for the Matrons." I paused both our steps and my words to gesture around the floating field of bridges, webs, and boulders. "As such, there is no such thing as an entrance exam or admission ceremony. Any who can stand before the gates is authorized to study the ways of might in this tower."


    "It''s the opposite of ours, but still the same," Iris said; more to herself than anyone else. Yet she still looked at me to clarify. "Our jobs are essentially the same, War Master and Praefectus Noctis. Strategy, training, and logistics. The primary overseer of a military force. Or, as it''s called above, a general."


    "The Goddess of Militaries," I said, ridiculous though it felt, no matter how much I could feel the sense of authority bleeding off her.


    "Yeah." Iris carelessly confirmed. "The Legions have no standards much like yours. Old, young, sick, healthy, benevolent, malevolent. Anyone can join. We find a place for everyone, whether in a state of life or sentient undeath. They''re tested after, during their training."


    "I see." I nodded, deciding to carry the conversation a little further. We were not yet at the gates, after all. "Abyssal Marshal. I would surmise that means you are the senior field officer, then?" I asked Leary, to which the man-sized goblin nodded. "Yes."


    It was all so curious; curious and impressive. Amun created a guild while he was enrolled at the Bodhi Tree. Here, in his second year, he had evolved subordinates, which only implied he owned a divine tree. That alone was unprecedented. The fact that it was Telin''s Champion who did it, and that he was a Child of the Nox, made it unbelievable, yet made it understandable all the same. Or rather, it made the prowess shown by this year''s student monks make sense. Not even I made it through the Halls of Nydorden so quickly, although my son was another story. Regardless, it only made me wonder how quickly they could move through this tower.


    Such wonders were replaced with curiosity upon seeing the youngest daughters of House Hun''ana waiting by the door. Staring with wide eyes, strangely, at Iris.


    It seemed we had listeners.


    No matter. I went on to explain that drow train in this tower throughout their lives. They came as children to learn the ways of drow might. Once they were of age, they went through their evolution ritual and returned to their duties in their respective houses, returning only when their War Masters deemed them ready to ascend higher. Again, Iris implied it was the same, but different in their organization. Their members would train in their ''Darkroom'' to evolve, then spend anywhere from a few months to a few years learning the ways of their path besides the occupation they''ve chosen; much like at the Bodhi Tree. Afterward, they would return to further themselves in that Darkroom and its adjacent School of Excellency as they were promoted up the ranks. Not just in terms of might, but in all aspects of the mind, body, spirit, and soul. Everything from the crafts to leadership and new languages. Once before the great doors, I elected to change the subject to align with my duty, however.


    "I hear you arrived at the Halls above in exceptional condition and with fine martial skills," I said. "Who was your master? Your favored weapon? Fighting style?"


    "From five to ten years old, I was self-taught to fight with the spear, short blades, and unarmed," he said. "Although, if I had anyone who fit the bill of a trainer, it would have been my great-grandfather, Everandus Cole. I went to live in his tower when I was ten to learn lesser necromancy. I was also the executioner during my time there - those who face the death penalty must face us, Sovereigns of Death, in combat. I warred against the Necro King and his army for four years until I learned to walk with death, as is our custom." He said, looking at Iris with a glint of nostalgia, throwing implications all around.


    "The Necro King." I echoed with an airy sigh, then took a long look at the infamous mark on his chest. "That''s a name known across the realms. As I am sure yours will be. You are Telin''s Champion, after all."


    He ignored my comment, thus marking the start of my spending two hours showing him the lowest and middle levels of the tower, bringing about a sight I thought I would never see. Not in him or any other drow. Enthusiasm. It was uncanny, the way he stared in wonder, claiming our courses to be ''efficient'' while simultaneously pointing out the differences in this tower and their room of darkness.


    We drow began training at whatever age we arrived at the tower''s gates. Their Legionaries began training at the start of their evolutionary ritual, wherein they were placed in a temporary cycle of death and rebirth. While ours began with an assessment followed by lessons in the fundamentals, theirs began with a much more extensive assessment before their training even began, because their ritual began with war. While ours studied tactics, anatomy, and survival, theirs studied those things and the ways of Amun''s ''Science, Technology, and Engineering.'' While ours went to fall into the lifestyle of their desired class, theirs would fall into a lifestyle that met Amun''s vague yet high standards. While we tested our evolved students by bringing them on patrols through Zimysta''s outlands, they tested theirs by separating them from each other and the guild''s support and reigniting the flames of war. When their evolutions had been completed, our students were sent back to their Houses to operate according to their Matron''s whims; theirs operated like the Bodhi Tree and sent the newly awakened to step further down their paths and master their occupations.


    Above all the differences, though, there was one important similarity. We trained for combat through combat. At all stages of development, our students fought against our excess slaves with steel weapons born from either their houses or the tower. Their students, however, fought against those slain by Amun; those in Nydorden, Shujen, and around the Bodhi Peninsula, who''d been cursed into an eternal cycle of life and death inside the Darkroom, forever waiting to wage war against the newly recruited pages of the Nox.


    Likewise, there were things so far beyond our imaginations they could hardly be believed. Their Legionaries - and all citizens of their empire, could never be isolated, manipulated, or even betray Amun; at least without him knowing, for they all were given clones made of darkness. These ''Doppelgangers'' worked with them and continued working while they slept. They trained them, educated them, consoled them, and counseled them in the voice of their Eternal Emperor and theirs until their end of days. Through this and their undead, every child, elder, innkeeper, street urchin, or ruler was trained to be formidable. Something we of the tower were granted a taste of.


    For four days, Amun used his sorcery to allow us to experience the growth that came from slaying those who could not die while, in turn, being kept from dying entirely. But then came time for the end of our show and tell.


    Then came the time for instruction.

 403 - Drow Combat

    Amun.


    8th of Sextrand, 1492.


    Mii''etus Praesyris.


    ***


    This place may have been a web-covered shit hole, but it wasn''t without its consolations.


    On the one hand, it was beautiful. Like the Halls above, the Tower of Might was a corkscrew of basalt wound around the divine trunk that seemed to have been carved by water rather than the hands of drow slaves, complete with branching corridors leading to wings carved out by the branches of Evar''s divine tree, forced into the Darkworld''s body like a parasite. On the other hand, there was a bounty of knowledge to be gained here. Lilith''s history and how it pertained to me was a surprise, yet was irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Moreover, what we witnessed in this tower couldn''t have been better.


    Drow, in their zeal, were perfectionists, and being from one of the most long-lived realms saw that perfection be aimed at the most important thing to them. Power. As a result, they were essentially on par with Telin''s Sight, having immense knowledge of classes and their virtually endless paths; assuming they were studied enough. Evar was studied enough. Hence my mirth when he approached me after guiding me to a much more spacious training hall up the corkscrew.


    What stole my mirth away, however, were the weapons he held out to me while saying. "Welcome to the advanced levels of the tower."


    I took a glance at the closest bystanders before taking the weapons with a begrudging sigh. The button noses and white horse manes of the Hun''ana twins were still here with their brothers and slaves. Not to mention many more unknown drow from the other houses of all ages, from ours to Evar''s, looking at Iris snicker while Leary accented his trolling smile with an exaggerated thumbs up.


    At least Sovereign Galendra was off feasting on the tower''s spiders.


    "I was told of your reluctance to use swords," he said, with no attempts to hide the disdain in his voice.


    I deflected with a casual shrug. "Eh, they''re not my style." I still stood on what I said all those years ago, of course. Swordsmanship took years upon decades of training to be effective, yet they''d be tame when compared to a spearman with equal training. That didn''t mean I wouldn''t learn for the sake of learning, however. Nor did it mean I was right. I was untrained in swordsmanship in my previous life and was still ignorant of the ways of this life. I didn''t have a teacher, so I didn''t touch them. Jaimess was the same way, yet that changed with the tengu he befriended. And so, as they taught him, I would be taught.


    "They''re good for slaughtering, I suppose," I murmured, giving the weapons a closer look over. If only to admire the skill of whoever crafted these fine weapons using the [Forgers Eye].


    Text and schematics of the single-edged blades soon floated around the weapons as the perk activated, prompting Simion to take what I was learning and send the blueprint across the net to be replicated, tested, and distributed, for there was more to them than met the eye.


    The Champion''s Fangs appeared like a mix between sabers and scimitars, with nary a guard to be found on their onyx hilts. Moreover, their makes were of mithral and adamantine that''d been layered like Damascus steel to form razor-thin tools of death, making them exceptionally light, durable, and magically conductive.


    The same was true, of course, for the dirks and hand crossbows he threw at me soon after, saying. "While you may favor polearms and daggers, scimitars and hand crossbows are your heritage. I am honored to present such killing tools to you. They were forged by the finest drow hands in Zimysta. Then." He sighed. "He was sacrificed so none could replicate his craft."


    My brows perked at the mention. "And his body?"


    "Devoured by spiders."


    "Tch." Although he heard me, I hid my annoyance beneath a veil of concentration after withdrawing some mithral, adamantine, and divine wood from my Shadow Pocket.


    Within moments, the ambient arcana had been poured through the weapons and coaxed over the metals to activate the [Replication] perk, causing the absurdly dense energy in my Divine Well to pour from the ''circuitry'' in my arms.


    As was becoming the norm, I could hardly control my divine mana. It gushed out of the weapons and materials like floodwaters, pouring over the floors and up the walls to seep into the ceiling and polish, upgrade, replicate, or outright fabricate replacements for everything in sight. Arenas became mock villages filled with combatants born from mana, stone, and metal. Weapons racks were turned into dimensional inventories with heavier or weaker variants for training. Yet those same energies took hold of the metals before me, heating, hammering, folding, and layering them into virtually identical replicas, minus the ostentatiously grim tones. However, they were treated differently than steel, as they were sharpened before being quenched and polished.


    By then, Iris had taken the originals to replicate them while I went through a similar process with my replicas. Arcana was coaxed around the replicated scimitars, dirk, and hand crossbow, where it remained to morph and redistribute the materials as I intended, [Upgrading] them into more efficient killing tools; a repeating hand crossbow, with the former. The latter pair was made into the same thing as the originals once Iris upgraded her replicas into blades of pure energy and returned them to me - monomolecular blades.


    When I turned to face Two-Heart, I saw the most bemused expression focused on the blades lying at my feet. Such a look on a more weathered and scarred version of Etan''s placid visage forced a snicker out of me as I stepped into the ring and bowed. Then I outright laughed when Numa, free of the Owl''s vestments, rose from the darkness to claim his new weapons.


    Therein marked the start of some respite during this time of chaos. It reminded me of the old days when most of my time was spent fighting my Doppelganger and studying; attempting to master myself. Only Iris, Leary, the Hun''ana twins, and their brothers replaced Toril, Jaimess, Ed, Gio, and Letta. Not to mention the presence of a more-than-capable teacher and countless more drow in the background.


    As Abbot Eiriol did above, he took us through an accelerated course that left no corners cut, setting up ambushes or similar scenarios to teach us when to utilize the basic defensive, offensive, and neutral postures; movement techniques; attacks; or blocks. Needless to say, I enjoyed myself. That enjoyment - a heightened emotional state in general, I came to learn, resulted in an exponential increase of the divine mana pouring from my frame, only serving to heighten the efficacy of our training.


    A rhythm was soon developed, sustained for days on end by my unconscious desire to keep the lessons rolling, melding with my mana domain to affect those around me. With their needs for sustenance diminished and their nightly trance all but forgotten, Evar flowed through his teachings like the Falls themselves and those he was teaching followed his increasing pace, kept alive by the new undying powers of my domain. Within 2 days, his pace was faster than that of Abbot Eiriol''s. Yet we were nowhere near the level required to be on this floor of the tower; the Hun''ana sisters notwithstanding. Regardless, Evar switched up his pace at the start of the 4th day, guiding us away from the wide range of battle terrain formed during our training stint and over to one of the many classrooms carved into the walls.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "While your skill with scimitars has evolved considerably, you still have a long way to go. The path to mastery is centuries long. Even for you." I rolled my eyes during his pause, knowing damn well I cared not for such a thing.


    Evar only sighed. "Our focus will shift to arcane combat. As always, we start with the basics. Mana Veil and Mana Bolstering. Now, I can see you are in the habit of maintaining a mana veil at all times. Its density compared to its thickness is admirable. Considering your station, however, it''s not so surprising."


    "Would you be if I told you I trained it up before my ascension?" I snorted.


    "You do not conceal it, however." He mused, ignoring me entirely. "Not that such a thing is ultimately important. No matter." He waved, motioning me to face the slave in the ring. "While the mana veil is used to defend against magic, it weakly defends against physical attacks as well. When paired with mana bolstering, the skin in particular, it completes the defense of an arcane fighter. From there, however, the path diverges. The path I foresee you going down involves infusing your weapons with mana and then projecting them through your attacks to cast spells. In this sense, your blade is your wand. The other path leads toward the mastery of mana forging, which generally begins after one''s first century. While we will be starting down that latter path, I will at least verify you are capable of mana projection. Now, demonstrate one of your arcane spells." He demanded, pointing his scimitar at a helpless slave. There was but one problem.


    "Er¡­ I, uh¡­ don''t have any arcane spells."


    "Ugh!" Evar sagged in desperation, prompting a chorus of ''You can''t be serious,'' ''Unbelievable,'' and similar remarks to ring throughout the hall before he finally growled. "Make one."


    Not that there was any pressure, but I grasped onto the first thing I could think of and racked my brain on how to make it - my name - arcane. In ancient Egypt, Amun was said to be the God of Air before he merged with the sun and became Amun-Ra. Air was my strongest element, which I mastered manipulating before I gained my fusion core, so there was some irony in that. Hence, my first arcane spell was to involve wind.


    Even then, though, there was too much to consider. Too many variables. The composition of this ''air'' would affect its density, which would affect the spell''s speed and power, not to mention specific heat and any additional effects like corrosion, temperature, or combustibility.


    In the end, I chose to focus on none of those things, for other, more foul things soon caught my interest. And so, I pulled the ambient arcana into my blades as I knelt low, feeling a bit silly as I willed the energy to change into compressed air tainted with a little crepuscular pesticide.


    I rose in a sloppy spin, as I was unfamiliar with such a maneuver with these weapons, yet the spell more or less went off as intended. The winds blasted over those nearby, blowing away the crimson webs around their minds and sending the many observing spiders into a frenzied stampede.


    As well-hidden as the spiders were, few seemed to notice my sacrilege. Especially with all the dust and noise. At the very least, Evar didn''t, as he blew away the dust to reveal his unimpressed visage without delay. "Better than nothing, I suppose."


    "That just means I have more to learn, which is never a bad thing." I sighed, growing increasingly impatient with this ordeal. Thankfully, Evar seemed to catch my drift, given the swiftness of raising his infused blades.


    "That mindset is something that did not come from your station, I am sure. Well said, Eternal Champion!" He grinned. "Indeed, you only have a grasp on the basics, for you still mold mana like a human. Increasing the durability of weapons is the default effect. Thus I ask, what of a weapon already with exceptional hardness?"


    Without waiting for my answer, he leaned to the side to dip his sword into the stone and watched my brows rise when it comically flexed into a ''C'' shape, matching his posture almost perfectly. "Yes!" He grinned haughtily. "Flexibility, sharpness, or any other factor can be altered with mana infusion. In theory, the same is true for mana bolstering, although such things are extremely taxing on the body. I invite you, Living Lich of the Nox, to try."


    Knowing what was coming and acknowledging the shit flying toward the fan, I focused on the first thing that came to mind while pulling arcana into my blades, then reared up for a vertical slice.


    "Being the God of Mana certainly removes the excitement from it," Evar murmured after seeing my blades arc down, morphing into metallic whips that lashed at the basalt tiles.


    ''Oh, don''t you worry. I''ve got some excitement for you.'' I snorted.


    "Regardless." He sighed. "This verifies you can stand on this level of the Tower. Here, we focus on the techniques that give the art its colloquial name. To Mold Mana means to literally mold it. This begins with simple tools, such as the hammer, chisel, and scalpel used by enchanters. This is then merged with arcane casting to form Mana Crafting, which varies by elven kind. For wood elves, it''s reported to be bestial constructs akin to dwarven machines. For us, it is weapons, armor, art, and architecture made with arcana, boasting magical effects."


    He gestured to Z''ress, who seemed eager to outshine those present by drawing arcana around her raised fists. As it coalesced into something solid, it began to glow the same blue as her arcana, forming transparent gauntlets over her ringed fists.


    "Having magical properties, it can both attack and defend against spells and, being made of mana, is quite versatile. It is, however, weightless, thus there is more to it than just crafting mana. Mind you, this is all triumphed by Mana Forging." He waved his finger. "Once you mature sometime after your first century, depending on their use, the weapons we have given you will bind themselves to your spirit. When that day comes, you will learn to forge them into weapons that attack the spirit. Its power destroys spells and wounds the spirit and whatever organs may be inside, making it difficult for your enemies to cast spells, mold mana, manipulate, or utilize some perks."


    Even I had to admire the power of such an ability, although there were things I was curious about still; namely, if my other weapons would become one with my spirit. There was little time to ask now, however, and I could always ask later, so I gave a quick nod to no one in particular and prepared to craft some mana. Only for someone to beat me to the punch.


    It was undoubtedly because of her Mana Core, but was possibly because of her Molecular Magic as well. Not to mention the 3D blueprints imposed on her reality by her augmented vision. Leary and I were the only ones aware of that, however, thus when Evar and particularly Z''ress saw Iris gather arcana around her head and form it into a faceless helm with a jewel of concentrated energy at the center, they could not compute.


    "Excellent form, Princess."


    She couldn''t have come at a better time. The red shadow dragon in drow form waltzed into the hall as if she owned the place, reeking of demonic blood and¡­ well, gloom. She turned the shocked reactions of the natives into dreaded unease. Meanwhile, some of my mirth returned.


    We could finally move on to meet Eban, our soon-to-be wizard.


    "Thank you, Sovereign." Iris politely bowed. Unlike a certain daughter of a certain Matron, who stormed up to grasp her by the tunic.


    "How?" Z''ress Hun''ana seethed. "How did you do that?"


    "You are no elf." Her sister trailed, stomping forward.


    "B- but¡­" Iris''s eyes bulged, blinked, and seemed to water as the habits she picked up from Zakira took over. "I have elven blood." She pointed at me with the same sense of innocence as her tone, yet her muttered words seemed downright dreadful to the young drow. "The Elven Devil''s blood."


    The sisters turned their widened eyes to my knowing smirk, allowing the habits Iris picked up from me to take over without being seen. She leaned closer to Z''ress, shifting her innocent frown into a devious grin as she whispered in the drow''s ear. "I''m an arcane caster with an arcane class. And a necromancer."


    "Imp-" Z''ress spun around, only to lunge back once she came face to face with the inherited darkness in Iris'' eyes.


    "She''s not just some poor little human girl I adopted, you know. Adoption was the only practical way I could recruit the one being in this peninsula who is worthy of being my daughter. And she is worthy in more ways than you think, my fellow drow." I flatly said, despite my amused grin. "Reborn in mind, body, and spirit with that same worthy soul as Iris Cole, the first Augmented Being in the universe. Of course, she''s an arcane caster. And she has a magic core for mana too."


    "If you are the God of Mana, that would make sense." Z''rynda huffed after a long moment, releasing Iris'' tunic to pace across the chamber. "The Eternal is said to be the source of mana, the gates, and the magic cores possessed by humans."


    "Yeah." I groaned, remembering what I saw after looking down the Eternal Path. "And he got tired of that responsibility, so he pawned it off on me. Fuckin'' dick."


    "You speak ill of your God?" Z''ress asked, shock apparent on her face - and countless others.


    "I am faithful to no deity, in this universe or otherwise, my fellow drow. Unlike you, I am free. Telin is my sponsor, not my God. He meddled with your lives to meddle with mine. He gave me my magic cores coupled with a few blessings and sent me to live, all so he could watch me from the multi-verse. My life is entertainment for him." I snorted, feeling the disdain rise as I turned my eyes to the many crimson eyes and glowing auras focused on me. "As is yours to your Goddess, considering those filthy webs once strewn over your minds.


    "I am free, my fellow Drow." I grinned, flicking my eldritch eyes between their souls. "Soon, you shall be too."

 404 - Supernova

    Evar ''Two-Heart'' Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    "I am free, my fellow Drow. Soon, you shall be too."


    A cruel line of crimson silk pulled my spine stiff as the words poured from his lips. I found my eyes darting to those long shadows in every corner instinctively. In them were the crimson eyes of drow from various houses and none at all, scanning the hall as I was, females and males alike. There were no crimson eyes of spiders, however, a fact rendered moot by the passionate children of House Hun''ana. Thus, I attempted to slice the conversation from another angle.


    Even if it meant repeating myself.


    "Undead. Doppelgangers." I shook my head, more in response to my thoughts than my apparent disbelief. "To think you have been training daily with these tools since you were five puts cobwebs around the mind. Had I not experienced it over these last few days, I would have refused to believe it. Yet you tell me your common citizens undergo the same training? Why? For what reason do you need subjects this strong amd independent?" I asked. "It goes against the ideals of every ruler of every species in history."


    "Why?" Amun''s brow rose in abject bemusement. "Because I have blessed and cursed my people with unbounded freedom. They need to master themselves, not just be strong, for there are many who loathe my existence. Many who will declare war against me on sight, and many more who will take one look at my... uncanny visage and say, ''Evil.''" Pausing, he took a couple of paces in an ambiguous direction, allowing his eyes to dance across the halls while his words skipped behind them. "As for your claim about ideals, perhaps it''s because the paternal side of my blood goes against the ideals of every species in history. I may be half-drow, I may be the Eternal God of this universe, but I am, above all, a Child of the Nox. The Twenty-Fifth Child of darkness, death, and void. What could I possibly gain from exerting control over mortals? What do I stand to gain from immense wealth? On the contrary, what do I gain by giving everyone power and letting nature run its course?"


    Snickering, he continued pacing around until his eldritch eyes returned to me. "My last reason is a foreign concept to you, Drow of the Demon Spider. I cherish my so-called ''subjects.''" He sneered as he passed his draconic eyes over the crowd, seeming to gorge on their unease. "I do this by bringing them to their potential and pushing them further until they are indomitable, for I know there will be many who come for my head in the coming times. More importantly, I know that no matter how few or many enemies or allies I have, no matter how powerful I become, I cannot protect everyone. So I don''t try. Instead, I make them mighty enough to protect themselves. Even from the Gods themselves. That is what earned me their trust and loyalty. And so, now that a certain God and his long-eared followers are at the brink of war with me, whom they titled Slayer, it will not be me whom they face. Nor with their antitheses face me in these Falls. Not because I ordered it, but of their own volition.


    "That is what it means to be God-Emperor."


    "And those of your Troupe are strongest of all." I managed to mutter. "Would you then, perhaps, show us a bit of this might?"


    "No." Amun flatly cut my suggestion down. "We''ve just finished training. And I did not come here to show off."


    "Oh, just fight!" Sovereign Galendra protested. "They won''t die unless you say so, after all. Regardless, they''ll change."


    "Eh." Amun carelessly shrugged. "That comes later. I will, however, tell you that every one of us is at least as strong as a vampyr."


    "Even the little bard?" Z''ress interjected with a hiss. "How?"


    "Necromancy," Amun answered, but said to me. "That, I will show you."


    Saying nothing, I waved a minotaur forward, eliciting a strange look and an incredulous tone from Amun. "How many of these things do you have?"


    Rather than waiting for an answer, Amun grabbed my wrist and palmed the minotaur''s head with his other hand before turning a wicked smirk toward me. "Don''t die on me, Two-Heart."


    If I thought those horrid whips carried by the high priestesses were torturous, this feeling of death incarnate pouring into my being was downright sadistic. It was like an infectious monster that attacked the flesh only, making my muscles cramp into gnarls before ripping themselves apart, only to be forced to reform and tear and reform and tear with more resistance in each cycle. I felt myself screaming, yet could not hear it over the cracking of my bones as every muscle cramped flakes off my skeleton. I knew I had doubled over, that I was writhing in drool and pain in an incoherent mess, yet I could not feel it over the shifting bones and popping joins. Not until the rush faded, and I came to meet the glazed eye of a minotaur, slumped forward on its knees.


    "That was the most dreadful thing I have ever experienced." I groaned, standing to my feet. Only to gasp in shock upon habitually flexing my hands. "But¡­ I have never felt better."


    "Don''t be too proud." Amun snickered. "I had to give you half its constitution to keep you from dying. Man, you''re ancient! Hehehe!" He full-on laughed.


    "You''ll get used to it," Leary said. And Iris concurred with a subtle giggle.


    Meanwhile, Amun grinned airily. "Just like old times."


    I looked at them incredulously before turning to the felled minotaur. Then, with a smile, grasped the creature by the horns and lifted it with only a little effort. "And this is something your legionaries gain during their evolutionary ritual?"


    "It is." Amun nodded. "Although I''m debating if we should hold off on giving them such boons until they become Brains. They''ll all be warlocks, you see. Custom made by me."


    "You should, without a doubt," I murmured. "You give out power far too freely."


    Amun''s brow rose in response, yet his eyes were drawn to the hissing tone of Z''ress Hun''ana, echoing my words. "Far too freely."


    "You think so, Z''ress?" He smiled in that deviously charming way. "I planned on giving you some, after all. We''ll see if you feel the same way once you hear my terms. And more, once you complete your training."


    "And what does a mana domain entail, exactly?" I quickly said, aiming to slice the conversation from a different angle, yet the massive Sovereign only laughed at the attempt.


    "It entails the fundamental forces of this universe," Amun said flatly. "The natural laws, represented by my magic cores, as you call them. Nuclear, Electromagnetism, and Gravity, besides Space-Time. And then there is mana itself; mana, and the unnatural laws born from it. With that comes the many ways in which mana is used. Mana molding, mana manipulation, mana casting, mana cores, and undoubtedly forging, not that I can do it yet. So too does it entail mana wells, and those born with unique mana - sorcerers. Not to mention, evolution. Change itself. Oh, yeah, and let''s not forget classes."


    "W- what did you say?" Z''rynda, the other Hun''ana daughter, demanded.


    "I can see much with these divine eyes, you know." He grinned, tapping at his temple and the eldritch orbs contained within. "How do you think they gained what even I could not?" He then asked, throwing his arms at Iris and Leary. But not the Sovereign, strangely. "Legendary Classes. Fusions of the classes you and I have." He flicked his fingers between us. "They have them because I guided them toward such treasures whilst raising them in my divine realm. How? Because I can see down every path anyone can ever make. Every step. Every perk. Even mine. And, of course, that of my legions. But that is simply what Telin blessed me with. Fundamentally, the Mana Domain allows me to do as Mana does. Change. Evolve both others and the very realms in ways beyond mere classes or magic; by changing their very natures. It is present in all my domains, Change. That is what allowed Iris to adopt a facsimile of my sorcery. It is what allowed Leary to become a paragon of his kind. It is what made the others in the Troupe Sorcerers. But in their cases, the change was brought about by my other domains. Leary and the other Undying Fiends with Twilight. Iris with Engineering. Blude, Geri, and Freki with Moonlight."You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Pausing, Amun allowed the faux-amiability to drain from his face while his eyes steeled their focus. "These are the members of my troupe that you all know. However, there is also the matter of your first son." The flatness of his tone made it all the worse. Tenfold more was the unfocused glaze over his eyes. The type of tempered rage seen in a seasoned veteran who always remembered the worst day of their life. "You know. The one who was said to be born to teach me, Telin''s Champion. The one who was sent away from Nydorden Halls to accompany me on my travels. Indefinitely. Unbeknownst to you all, he did so with conditions. A deal, if you will." He turned his eyes about every drow in the room. "His end of the bargain is to travel these realms at my side, learning the art of war from every culture we visit so he may return to teach me and my legions. In doing so, he evolved, but not just for the sake of himself; for his end of the bargain was made for both my sake and yours, my fellow Drow.


    "Those who capitulate to the spider out of necessity or fear, those who would turn coat if a drow deity with purpose was to appear, those who realize you are enslaved by your Demon Spider, I am here to free you, for that was your first son''s wish to his Eternal God. For that, he hand-picked the best of my abilities and aspects to make you perfect. It was through this that something unique was created." He raised his finger as he scanned the many monks among us. "Drow Monks of the Astral Way like you, Evar, experience their True Selves'' moving from the Astral Plane to my divine realm of Eotrom. It still operates as normal; albeit with more power, having the fiery core of a dead star as its heart. It exists in the cosmos of my realm- the infinite void of space and time comprising the universe, dwelling in clouds of matter and energy dispersed from a star that once was. Thus giving your namesake. Nova Drow.


    "Well." He turned away, shrugging carelessly. "He calls you Nebulous Drow, but Nova Drow sounds better, in my opinion."


    "And what of those who are not monks of the astral way?" Sovereign Galendra asked from the table on which she lounged, a dreadfully playful tone in her inflections.


    "Oh, well, it depends on their... hostility." Amun chortled coyly, glancing at Z''ress. "Anyone who attacks me and mine in the name of their Goddess will die painfully and be corrupted in death. As per Negal''s Rules, however, it would be taboo for me to kill the drow of House Za''Darmondiel, so they will just be corrupted and changed. If any drow joins me willingly, though, they''ll be brought into the Nox and learn what darkness truly is, having been reborn as Night Elves. Paragons of our species. That''s only for me, however. Those who are changed by Troupe; well... who knows what they''ll make of them. Undying Fae, perhaps?"


    "Nah," Iris smirked, shaking her head as she stared the Hun''ana twins dead in the eyes. "Arion and Double M''s."


    "Right." Amun nodded after snickering at Leary''s indifference. "Anyway, Night Elves are also Drow Paragons. You''ll no longer be hindered by the light and will live in my empire as royals in my kingdom, accompanying me on my march across the Mortal Plane as members of my Zed Legion."


    Pausing, yet keeping his eldritch eyes trained on me, he held out his hand and took a single step forward. "Two-Heart, I tell you this because I need someone to oversee the Noctis Hall of Excellency. I need someone who will train my recruits and make my Legionaries perfect. A drow with exceptional skill, centuries of experience, and the zeal to give my Legions a standard of competency unsurpassed in the realms. That someone is you, Evar Za''Darmondiel."


    "Stop. Please¡­ you''ll damn us all." I muttered, desperate to salvage the situation, but to no avail. Amun only spread his arms wide enough to engulf us all.


    "We''re already damned, Evar!" He wickedly grinned. "What do you think living is? From the moment we are born, we desire and so we suffer while we giddily march to our deaths, even while ignoring the destination. Accept it and be free."


    "I... I cannot." There was no need to look at any of the others gathered. But Amun paid them little mind.


    "Why not? You don''t wish to leave the monks behind? The instructors of this tower? The tower itself?" He asked, wide-eyed and unblinking. "Naturally, I''m asking those monks to make my legionaries excellent as well, and you can have the tower. It is, after all, yours."


    "Yes, Evar. Why not?" Z''ress hissed. Yet Iris stepped in front of her with eyes as crimson as ours. Only.... brighter.


    "You stay out of this."


    "Yes, Z''ress Hun''ana. You stay out of this, for you, who are worthy of becoming my Valkyrie, have a decision to make. So think hard about it and speak to my daughter; you and your siblings. Now, then." Amun shifted his head, moving his line of sight from Z''ress to my rear to my eyes, forced to lock with his. "Why not, Evar? Do you think the demon spiders will come for you? Do you think they will kill you if you agree? Do you think they will take you? Torture you? Do you think the Matrons will seek to change you like they tried to do to your first son?"


    He somehow stared deeper into my soul without moving a muscle. Increasing the pressure of his stare such that the walls began to quake ad infinitum through the Falls as he growled. "Do you really think I''d do nothing if they tried?"


    "Stop!" Z''ress screamed.


    Followed by her sister. "Evar!"


    "Z''rynda!" Iris barked behind me. "Quiet!"


    "This is your potential, Evar; I can see that in your paths. This is what you''ve dreamed of, Evar; I can see it in your soul. This is what you''ve prayed for; all of you! I can¡­" He scratched furiously at his head as he turned about, seeming to lose himself. "I can hear you! Whispering, always! Constantly pleading and praying for the death of your oppressors so you can be free of this pit of pointless madness! It''s made apparent by the title you all have given me. You want me to destroy this culture; and you know as well as I do that its destruction has already begun."


    My eyes darted around, noticing the signs I forced myself to ignore: the darkness that seemed to obscure selectively; the gross lack of spiders, and the frequent disappearances of that massive drow over the last days; the pulse of divine energy that was the same color as this young woman that took the mushroom forests; the goblin slave''s admiration for Leary. It was only a matter of time before drow started disappearing. Perhaps they already were outside the tower. Either way, we would soon be joining them, and I swore long ago I''d utilize every means to prevent that from happening.


    So it was. I grasped onto his hand, if only because I knew what this very conversation would cost me. However, there was no way I could have known where it would take me.


    "The Matrons and their Demon Queen be damned!"


    I felt as if my consciousness was stripped from my body and merged with my true self as it detached to ascend through the stone, air, and void above to break through to a realm of darkness, broken apart by countless motes of light placed so far away it was indescribable. And yet, I crossed the infinite void in moments and rammed into one of those motes in the distant beyond, adding mass where none existed until the colossal object collapsed and rebounded against the dense core of my newly injected spirit, releasing a concentration of energy great enough to forge elements and eject the untold quantities of matter across the void.


    As quickly as the implosion came, I was made consciously aware of all things within this infinitely expanding space. I had form, formless though I was, being composed of a cloud of vibrant matter scattered around the glowing heart of a dead star. Floating in the void, I could look and see the binary eyes of two others like me, waving with their twinkling eyes before many more explosions joined them in the far distance. I could almost travel to the exotic but familiar shapes they created, spotting new stars orbited by realms of power; globes or rather, worlds of blue seas, sandy deserts, forests of green and mountains capped in white.


    I could see it, the Eternal Champion''s Divine Realm of Eotromenia, in its entirety, yet I could simultaneously gaze down into a pit - a room of darkness, to see corrupted humans, dwarves, goblins, and orcs spread about sprawling terrain model within, using beasts of metal infused with magic to do their bidding in place of slaves. Yet I could also see¡­ people; members of every species. They were fighting them. Training in war to evolve into warriors of legend. Noctis Legionaries. So too could I see myself looking over them. Judging them. Analyzing them. Assessing them down to the finest detail to determine who was worthy of wearing the mark of the ancient abyssal clan merged with the eldest house of drow.


    I saw it all before my consciousness fell, wherein I faced despair. That vast and yet small peninsula raced to my feet like a mad monster, fading into darkness as I plummeted through the depths, fell through the walls of this tiny tower, and returned to my body in this Gods-forsaken cavern. Yet, part of me saw that grandiose realm still, and therein I remained, both here and there. However, I was no longer just the drow monk, Evar Za''Darmondiel. I was¡­ untethered. Born anew by the force of a supernova into a being of Two Hearts.


    And so it was. The first thing these newborn senses bore witness to was chaos unleashed.

 405 - Drow Minds

    Z''ress Hun''ana.


    ***


    I knew not why the Matrons remained huddled within G¡¯eldantaar while Elg-Horr graced the Falls. Simultaneously, I knew next to nothing about this allegedly legendary being. I only knew what the Abbot of House Za''Darmondiel said upon his return, and so I made it a point to witness him with my own eyes in Mii''etus Praesyris. There was but one problem. No one knew when Elg-Horr would arrive at the Tower of Might. Thus I placed it upon myself to make regular ventures to the gates until I saw him.


    Such diligence was rewarded in droves. Yet, as the saying went, ''No good deed goes unpunished.''


    Granted, it was only the third time I made the journey since his arrival, and the journey itself was not difficult. It was a mere test of drow might, after all. Scaling walls, leaping, levitating, and casting Faerie Flames were all things Drow should have been proficient with; doubly so for those of the Eight Eyes and their Legs. All things considered, it would have been difficult to miss the wave of blue crumbling our vibrant mushrooms to dust; the pervasive darkness and golden motes of light spreading through the Falls; or Evar, leaving the tower; for the former two were unignorable, and the latter was a rarity to say the least. It could have only meant one thing.


    He had arrived.


    In terms of those in the Eight Eyes and Legs, his Arcane Well was small. That could be changed, however. It was the organs surrounding that well of Arcana that made him powerful. The darkest sorcery in existence that made death a suggestion and erasure a solution, the power to unearth a lake and hang it in the sky, or bring the sun to the ground to destroy an army; those were the tales we were told regarding his magic, yet I saw nothing of the sort.


    The mana radiating from him was surely divine, however, for it was noticed only by those with the wisdom to understand its subtlety. Not that it always was. It could not be felt as one sensed a spell being cast. It infected the subconscious, making one stare and gawk in awe, fear, or any of the emotions born from his strange visage. A diadem of arcane sigils wreathed his head in a blue-green flame that radiated no light. His eyes were filled with color, yet remained the same gray as all else in the dark, so expansive and empty. The others were similar, but I cared little for them. At first.


    The girl- not the drow- with the same blue spirit as the wave that swept across us. Her divine mana all but demanded my attention. She had the same blue in her eyes as that wave, but not when I first saw her, when the yellow rings in her eyes took notice of us. According to House Za''Darmondiel''s Abbot, the wings and talons she had when she descended to the Falls were her machinations. A mere sliver of the truth, I believed then and knew as a fact now. Doubly so when I turned my eyes about the Falls.


    The wave sent out by this blue one robbed Zimysta of its bioluminescent mushroom forests. It turned the ancient stalks into a shower of dust that could out-compete the Falls themselves, now illuminated only by the Faerie Flames scattered within. Not even hours later, thousands saw the one they called Blude, dragging a defeated Raki Za''Darmondiel by the leg as she swam up the Falls. And now, the Falls saw that dust become mud that gave rise to life made of both darkness and light. The same twilight the Bodhi Tree''s monastic cat was reported to have. Even now, those beasts were skittering, flying, or pouncing through the ever-increasing and oft-magical darkness. Although it was difficult to spot them, I could easily sense them killing and eating and infecting all manner of creatures. Even spiders.


    While my House and a few others were hardly affected by the blue wave and those sinful things, they were not something we could turn a blind eye to. Not when even the slaves witnessed and were moved by their acts.


    Amun and his troupe had sinned against Lilith; yet he was Telin''s Champion, thus I assumed he could or would not be punished. Not without him living up to the name we gave him. Then again, Zimysta Falls had been spiraling into destruction since he arrived. In just two days, the only place I had ever known had changed into a place I had never been. All I could do was wonder about the ensuing changes as I spent the next several days inside the tower with this¡­ creature, where I resolved to witness this history with my own eyes; and maybe learn more of their artificing prowess to boot.


    In hindsight, it took less than a day to forget about everything outside the tower. While that was made a priority in the design of Zimysta''s 3 towers, it seemed his divinity was pouring into us, as I grew all the more curious as we - me and my sister Z''rynda  - listened to their greeting from afar.


    The Nox. Undying Reaper. Elven Devil. World Weaver. ArcaTech. God of Mana. I could only guess as to what half of those meant. At least until the self-proclaimed God-Emperor of Goblins listed off his titles, where I felt as if I desperately needed to know more of this ''Bonewater'' so our goblins could learn to make it. But then the other one spoke.


    I found it a cruel joke when I first heard she was adopted by Elg-Horr - Amun, but to find she carried his blood was something else entirely. Unfortunately, I knew not what it was. Nor did I know what a Praefectus Noctis was, nor this ''Technology'' she was the alleged goddess of. But what I - what we knew was military structure, industry, and information. The domains of this supposed goddess.


    Rather uncannily, Iris Cole saw fit to explain just what that meant to Evar. Yet I could not help but feel like it was aimed at us. Aside from being a general, mine was a similar case to hers, being the 5th daughter of Matron Z''ryliss Hun''ana; the youngest Matron of Zimysta Falls. It was her endless drive that caused her to gather so many slaves and send them into tunnels deeper than any before her. It was that risk that gave her the bountiful industry that made House Hun''ana the Fifth Eye of the Falls. It was her matronly standing that gave her a complete family, as Lilith decreed. Two High Priestesses. Two Priestesses. Two specialists. Two males. We - me and Z''rynda, were those specialists.


    Where Z''rynda chose to specialize in our industry, carving the path of an artificer. I chose to remain devoted to Lilith in another way. The way of holy might, the Paladin. That, I surmised, was what led me - us to develop a sense of understanding of Iris Cole as the days passed. She carried with her the flair of the Champion, as seen by how she casually carried on conversations with Evar, a centuries-old War Master. In turn, I grew just as intrigued as he did with this ''Room of Darkness'' and their so-called Legions of Night, but then the conversation took a turn for the worse.


    He began speaking of necromancy. Then carelessly imbued Evar with the strength and constitution of a minotaur. A simple act that would have made the War Master unstoppable were it not for the crimson webs strewn over his mind, yet even that was tampered and toyed with. As were we. Albeit by a different being.


    She had been watching us; I realized. Ever since she laid eyes on us, or perhaps long before, Iris Cole had been observing us, gathering information just as we were. Unlike us, however, she had been acting on it.


    Ruefully, I only realized such when she giggled at my apparent disdain. She played it off as if she meant to agree with the goblin''s words, but I saw through her ruse. She was feeding us information through Evar; and not only knowledge of his divinity or his Legions, knowledge of hers.


    Ruefully, that was verified by his blatant blasphemy; an act that placed the thousands of drow in Mii''etus Praesyris in range of Lilith''s mandibles. Such blatant blasphemy left me speechless. Me, Z''rynda, and the hundreds of drow cramped in this hall, but not Evar. He desperately attempted to drag the conversation elsewhere. Yet Drow of all ages, lingering at all altitudes, heard him say it. And so, we heard what the Matrons - what my mother so cautiously feared.


    Amun saw Lilith as his enemy, despite their obvious connection. In turn, any drow who did not see Amun as their enemy would lose Lilith''s favor and be branded a traitor to their kind. Thus, the Matrons were his enemies. Them and their High Priestesses, Priestesses, and¡­


    "I can see much with these divine eyes, you know."Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    I tried to shut them out. The words born from this Devil''s Tongue and the tempting implications they carried. It conjured images in my mind of the apparent potentials hidden within my sister and I. Classes of legend and the grandest station one could imagine; the likes of a divine paladin and an artificer bound in a pact as the Eternal Champion''s Valkyrie. It produced feelings in my senses of what could exist, a drow body made of a web of mycelium-like mithral and arcane crystals. But then I saw red.


    I felt red. Heat. Anger, born not from me but from the mention of the traitor - the Abbot of House Za''Darmondiel; and yet, I sensed blue. Cold. A calmness, born from this strange girl and the metal skull she wore on her chest. And so, in that state of equilibrium between vengeful anger and defiant calmness, I listened to a tale much different from what was heard by the ears of Zimysta. A tale about the so-called ''traitorous'' first son being fated to leave the Falls of his birth as Elg-Horr''s lifelong teacher. A tale of him holding the same station as Iris and Leary within the Elven Devil''s Troupe.


    As I listened, I felt those red webs shift and multiply, trapping my spirit in a pit of purplish blackness streaked with red. I felt that anger transition to fear - hate and fear projected at me, my sister, and all the drow gathered who had yet to turn their blades on the Eternal Champion.


    We had sinned against Lilith, thus she had forsaken us.


    Evar felt it as much as I did. I could see it - feel it from the force of these black webs in my mind, blocking out the blue. A testament to Lilith''s displeasure and my imminent doom.


    "Stop." Evar weakly muttered. "Please¡­ you''ll damn us all."


    "We''re already damned, Evar!"


    The haunting skitters and demonic throes threatened to overtake me as his blasphemous words spewed, spurred forth by account of a male speaking before I could.


    "I... I cannot."


    "Why not?" He leaned forward, and the red flared as he rattled on with his blasphemes, gesturing to the lot of us to make the crimson webs tighten their grip. Thus, I sought to right my wrongs in the only way I was taught.


    I attempted to punish the traitorous male. "Yes, Evar." I stomped forward, snarling. "Why not?"


    I wanted to scream when she stepped in front of me without her blue light. Ruefully, all there was to be found in her irises was malice pitched the same crimson as ours. "You stay out of this."


    "Yes, Z''ress Hun''ana."


    ''No, please!'' I internally pleaded - yet another sin that forced the crimson webs to intensify.


    "You stay out of this, for you, who are worthy of becoming my Valkyrie, have a decision to make. So think hard about it and speak to my daughter; you and your siblings."


    I could hardly comprehend what I heard, for I hardly believed what was happening. I could only struggle between the darkening red webs and the brightening blue light as the Elven Devil tormented us more.


    "Do you think they will kill you if you agree?"


    ''They will! And worse!'' Another flash of red forced out the blue, pushing my hand toward my hip.


    "Do you think they will torture you?"


    I could only sob beneath Lilith''s ire in response; as did every drow in the tower minus Evar.


    "Do you think the Matrons will seek to change you like they tried to do to your first son?"


    "Yes!" I sobbed, yet it came out as a despairing whisper, for it was all I could do to fight through that crimson web of chaos. I thought I would please my mother at last by bringing her the information she so desperately sought. Yet all there was to show for my efforts was disdain by the very Goddess I had been raised to worship. All there would be to show for it would be my corpse, mutilated and offered to the Demon Spider as repentance. Yet salvation would never come.


    "Do you really think I''d do nothing if they tried?"


    Like claws, those words carved into those webs of chaos and cleared my mind for but a second. A single second to grant me a single word I could use to encourage all those gathered into making the right choice.


    I chose wrong.


    "Stop!"


    As did my sister.


    "Evar!"


    But not Evar.


    "The matrons and their demon queen be damned!"


    Once again enveloping my mind, the reddish-black webs forced me to react to Evar''s hand reaching out. An act that saw Iris step before me with mana packed densely in her fists; only, this mana was of a much darker blue than I witnessed before. Blue and pure enough to rid me of these crimson webs for good. Not me - us.


    I did not fight against either the red that consumed my mind or the blue rushing toward my heart. I was so tired of this madness, and so I just wanted it all to end, knowing fully that one of them would not let it.


    I felt nothing on impact, yet I sensed everything. I sensed¡­ detachment, both from my body and those foul webs that influenced my mind; mine and the minds of all drow who wavered in their allegiance to the Queen Demon Spider. All I could see was a field of blue pouring from the eyes of that skull on Iris'' chest as I fell into its maw of bolts and screws. Then¡­ darkness.


    ¡ª¡ª


    I awoke within a shell of gears and pipes spreading from the twin crystals above that gave the chamber its blue glow. Within moments, I felt the presence of others nearby; my sister, our brothers, and our slaves, I knew them to be, floating amidst my formless self as they stared through those blue windows to see Iris tinkering with our lifeless bodies within a cloud of darkness.


    "I''ve heard a lot about you, the youngest daughters and sons of House Hun''ana."


    "I- I¡­" I stuttered, unsure if I could even speak in this state. "I can understand why. We are similar, having a mind for strategy and artificing. Only, you were not infected in the mind like we were. And¡­ you do not obsess over chasing your parent''s love as I have; strange though it is to admit.


    "I am not surprised it came to this, our deaths. Our mother and sisters cannot be saved. Not that I want them to be saved; either in life or this¡­" I removed my gaze from my lifeless body and tried to look at my formless soul. "This¡­ undeath."


    "You''re not undead," Iris said in a flat tone. "Your souls and spirits are in my holy pendant - a temporary measure so your squishy bodies can be sent to the Underworld, maintaining the balance to allow your souls to stay on the Mortal Plane, housed in new bodies created by me and later enhanced by House Hun''ana''s industry."


    She looked down so we could see our bloodied hearts cradled in her right arm, then turned her gaze to her left to focus on our wells of arcana, stripped from our spirits, cracked, and floating in a field of her blue-black sorcery. On the ground before her sat our bodies, looted and stripped bare atop a bed of darkness to be taken, just as she said.


    Like the days before, a pulse of blue poured from her frame, rippling across the Falls to illuminate the sovereign drow towering over the drow who remained; but from our place within this jewel - from Iris'' place in the tower, we could see its destination. Not the entirety of the Falls, the only place we''ve ever known. It swept through the only home I ever knew like a plague. Our proud gates withered and crumbled to dust, just like mushrooms just days ago. A mere prelude to the cacophony of confused screams emanating from beyond.


    I lamented the fact that neither my mother nor my older sisters stood among them. Simultaneously, I had a thought that had never once crossed my mind before. A thought of happiness due to the fact that my brothers were freed from this madness.


    However, such thoughts were fleeting.


    The returning wave of blue demanded my very attention, for it carried in its wake my new flesh and blood: Mithral and all the crystals unearthed and polished by our deep gnome slaves; all broken down into their constituent parts to make a particulate stream filled with Iris''s essence. When it arrived, the field we were gazing through blossomed with light. Words, numbers, and images cascaded before our eyes like the Falls of Zimysta. Or rather, like a ladder twisted into a tight coil.


    Though I had no way of deciphering it, their meaning flowed through my mind all the same. What I saw was the code of life written out in sequence. It was almost like a blueprint of dwarven machinations, with specific instructions for how to form a drow body with my features. Yet there was more. ''Instructions'' passed on from my mother and father, with some like the tainted essence of Lilith''s webs.


    Those tainted instructions and other faulty ones were cast aside readily, changed in ways even the Trees of Life could not replicate. Our wells of arcana, cracked to the verge of destruction, revolved around topaz pearls and converged in the blue-black field to be woven into crystalline hearts that did not need to beat; for the hot arcana within flowed of its own volition, acting as my blood. The same was the case for the rest of our organs, manufactured using the crystals and gems taken from House Hun''ana and infused with Iris'' divine essence to make something arcane.


    These¡­ ArcaTech Organs formed in midair around our crystal hearts, constructed in real-time via processes I could not fully understand. All I knew was that each building block of each crystal was imbued with a different affinity to mimic natural body processes and then woven into something with the properties of organ tissue; an acidic affinity in the stomach; many affinities in the skin; an air affinity in the blood; and more. In some cases, however, there was a touch of divinity. Our brains were made of divine diamonds, grayish pink and wrinkly like the organs themselves. Blue-veined gold made our nerves, connected to divine sheets of black and blue-green tendons, ligaments, muscle fibers, and even hair.


    While great in their own right, it was what held those organs together that truly made me want to inhabit this augmented body. Skeletons of mithral, infused with the power of the Tech Goddess to have it behave like sentient mycelium. In turn, granting us a truly divine power. Assimilation.


    "Whether you decide to reboot or not is up to you, but in doing so, you agree to a pact to become Amun''s destroyers; and his Valkyrie, Z''ress. You will live, travel, and work with me. But when Amun calls on my Corps for war, you''ll be the first to go, taking orders directly from him as Commanders of my Arion Division. I understand your slaves are treated the best in Zimysta and hold little resentment toward you, but they will be slaves no more. Nor will you ever claim slaves again."

 406 - Chaos Unleashed

    Amun.


    8th of Sextrand, 1492.


    Mii''etus Praesyris.


    23:41


    ***


    I admit I got a little frustrated. But, as I stated before, I was starting to lose my patience. This place was a veritable shit hole, and I wanted nothing more than to leave. Thankfully, however, Evar and the Hun''ana''s were the last ones on the list aside from Eban, who I was supposed to spend a tenday with before I spent another tenday in G''eldantaar.


    Supposed to.


    "The Matrons and their Demon Queen be damned!"


    I grinned as Evar grasped my hand, breaching the dam of divine ki in my spirit as the deal was sealed. I watched the violet energy Etan created ebb into his spirit and pulse as it met his ki, releasing the faceless form of his true self from his spirit.


    Appearing as a humanoid shrouded beneath a black veil, it lowered its blue-violet eyes as if to bow and shot skyward, ejecting itself from the Mortal Plane to enter Eotrom on a direct trajectory to a dying star. As the distant star went supernova, so too did Evar''s ki release a shockwave through his divine tree and tower. The violet energy surged through the grains like an overpressured pipe, upturning countless tons of stone as his domain adapted to his changing spirit. I felt the energy rising and falling as it cascaded over and into the scattered drow monks within, all of whom accepted the blessings willingly, forcing them to double over as their flesh bulged or reeled back in screaming protest like Evar.


    As it waned, it seemed to ping or otherwise attract the attention of something else, as a wave of crimson webs more foul than anything I''d felt before ebbed toward the tower, flowing into the ground, the distant spiders, and the minds of the many drow stationed in and outside the tower. Including Z''ress.


    She stomped toward Evar with a sneer, reaching her hand to her hip, and seemed to freeze when Iris stepped before her, arcana packed in her augmented fists while divine mana poured off of her spirit. Z''ress fought against the crimson webs to grasp onto it. Iris couldn''t have cared less. She went straight for the neck and then went for the necks of Z''rynda, their brothers, and their slaves; crushing them wholly.


    "Finally!" Sovereign Galendra sighed and the lingering darkness echoed her sentiment, rolling off her in waves to obscure her silent skittering across the walls, ceiling, and floors, eager to resume her demonic feast.


    I felt a touch of necromancy pour from Iris a moment later, prompting Leary to funnel mana into his 5th thoracic vertebrae to erect a semi-transparent barrier of incorporeal bones around Iris and Evar, giving me a thousand-yard stare as his brain overloaded with information about his new nature, Eotrom, the Legions, and his station within mine.


    "So, what of you all?" I turned my eyes about the crimson eyes shining in the dark. Their visages, swathed in endless shades of gray, were limned in a radiance of varying degrees as they stared, shied away from, or scowled at me. "You may not be monks suited for the Halls of Excellency, but you are my fellow drow, and so there is a place for you in my Legion."


    Pausing, I looked down to pin on the spider-shaped brooch given to me by my mother what felt like so long ago. As it was on that day, it was positively filled with the same blue-violet arcana in the well she also gave me; a dissimilar energy to the red-violet arcana within the identical brooches worn by Evar, Eban, Ilar, and the other members of House Za''Darmondiel.


    "I have a Legion I''m forming too, you know." I lifted my eyes to the widened eyes, agape maws, and more radiant frames. "A Legion that does not exist on paper, who accompanies me and wars alongside me as I scour the Mortal Plane. A Legion of the most elite destroyers. A Legion of those called ''evil,'' those called drow. Zed Legion. And so I ask: Will you spread darkness across the Mortal Plane with me? Or will you remain here as slaves of the Demon Spider?"


    I did not wait for their answer. For the first time since I formed my divine realm, I let the energy in my Divine Well flow indiscriminately. Or rather, it would be more apt to say I released my restraint on it.


    Divine mana flowed through my Orison Vestibule first, where it seemed to adopt a mind of its own as it analyzed the countless prayers streaming in from the Falls and sent a trickle out through the Credence Cortex to give them the terms of this deal of deals. The rest went through the Divine Sea to strip untold quantities of the mana and arcana within, infinitely sourced from Telin or whatever processes he imposed on the procedure. The combined energies radiated from my spirit like radiation jets from a quasar, shifting to the gold, silver, blue, and sea green of my domains as they passed over the surroundings.


    Divine mana seeped into the drow who accepted it without them even realizing it. Their spirits churned, however, adopting violet, gold, and blue hues as the divine mana assaulted the crimson webs shrouding their minds, releasing their souls to be claimed by the undying night. The arcana and mana went for their bodies, first shifting the color of their eyes to the same hues as their spirits before they fell or reeled back in pain. Those who were apprehensive looked at them with morbid dismay as their screams subsided and they stood to reveal taller, more muscular bodies with more voluminous hair. Some saw their skin adopt more earthly tones while others experimented with the evolved natural abilities they saw visions of, taking flight or manipulating the darkness to distance themselves from those loyal to the Spider.


    Pouring my spatial mana over the darkness, I Bamfed them to safer grounds just as the crimson-eyed drow leaped into action, surging forth as a single unit as if they were commanded by a hive mind. Their eyes flared and dozens of them took up their arms, lunging toward me, Iris, and Evar mere moments before the tide of drow and spiders poured into the hall from every angle, chased from all sides by the umbral claws of Sovereign Galendra ripping and tearing into spider ass.


    Sighing, I looked down at my shadow and poured necrotic mana into my throat. "Report."


    "RAAHHHH!" The mass of unbridled barbaric fury that was Lana launched from my shadow toward the closest spider, screaming at the top of her lungs as heat roiled off her skin, her veins bulged, and her eyes filled with the glow of my arcana. The undead horde behind her had been unleashed by the time she crossed the distance. Hundreds of zombies, skeletons, and undead shadows rushed to clutter the warehouse-like space, covered by the spells of Caleb and Neil''s undead mages arcing high overhead.


    Lana came crashing down on the barn-sized spider''s foreleg with a thunderous roar, landing on her fist to crack the chitin some, yet the waxy flesh simply congealed back into place once her fist rebounded off it. Lifting its leg, the spider poised its blade-like limb overhead before stomping through Lana''s belly with enough force to crack the tile beneath her. It raised its legs as if to evade the ectoplasm spewing from Lana''s body, but stomped again, albeit not before Lana rolled and raised her arms just before another jagged foot goughed through her guard, pushing her deeper into the ground and deeper more as it went for the kill.


    Undeterred as any undead, Lana met the demon spider with equal ferocity, lashing out at the fleshy chitin with clawed hands, fists, and teeth alike as the maw bit into her and then reeled back in disgust once she was no more.


    As before, I noticed the waxy flesh reforming over the damage while Lana reconstituted and ordered the undead mages to focus their fire on it. Blasts and spears of fire and water billowed into steam around the spider moments later, concealing the massive granite fist materializing in midair.


    Before it fell, the passive effects of the Masterful Tactician perk cast a line of wicked mana from my Cursed Well to the spell. Its attachment saw the line thicken into a conduit connected to my gravitational core, and out the purple mana poured, filling the granite with enough gravitational energy to darken the fist with a purple hue and slowly lift the spider off the ground. And then it fell.


    The purple-black granite fist obliterated the spider on the descent, sending its legs and guts flying in every direction, only for them to be dragged into an orbit around the plummeting spell. The impact released a gravitational wave across the floor that seemed to turn it into water, given the way it undulated, throwing everything in its path to the ceiling and back down to the gaping hole the spell disappeared down. Countless drow, spiders, and undead went with it. Yet many more remained.


    With the freed space, Bruce and his melee squad of undead shadows entered the fray, bounding in all directions while Zaraxus emerged from their rear. The power of his gaze released a deathly frigid chill that made the air itself stand still and glow pale blue before falling like a thin layer of dry ice that seemed to freeze several drow in place. Yet the spiders were undeterred, continuing to rend the army of shadows, overwhelming them with sheer numbers.


    A cold sneer was all Zaraxus offered before he raised his arms before him, unleashing the absurd magic I gave him to manifest a pillar-esque spear of ice and stone that increased in size as his lunar aspects shone from his spirit, ripping debris into an orbit around the spell. It launched at the spider like a cannon, deafening ears and shattering stone as it whistled the short distance to smack against its hide and deflect toward the ceiling in a quaking crash.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Uncaring, the spell continued to the drow behind and above the spider, who aggregated their mana to erect a glimmering shield of crimson webs. The lunar mana that remained on the spider persisted, however, spreading across the waxy chitin to freeze it in place, leaving a hairline crack unhealed.


    ''Interesting.'' I grinned, sending mental orders to Zaraxus to bring the spider''s temperature down, allowing Lana''s minions to capitalize on their weakness. By then, Lana reformed, so I sent her to address the crimson-eyed drow, steadily bolstering their ranks with mana-forged blades and arcane spell casters.


    I called upon Zaraxus'' unnamed first officers in response. The higher undead dove through my shadow like penguins escaping predation, swimming beneath the horde to engage the drow from the rear. The wind wraith was the natural exception, phasing through mortals and undead alike as it unleashed volleys of necrotic wind blades with wild abandon. The spiders ignored them until their gelid edges successively slicing into them, froze their waxy chitin, broke it apart, and carved through their innards, felling several out of hundreds of varying sizes.


    Incensed, the drow put their all into arcane defense, doing everything from raising the temperature, ripping spells apart, or deflecting the wind blades with projected attacks; and nary was falling. Even when the mummy entered with a stomp that comically rippled the ground beneath them, they were unfazed, as they jumped with the wave to levitate in midair or maneuvered across the ceiling to unleash a downpour of spells and bolstered bolts.


    One drow, in particular, held a mana-forged hand crossbow aimed directly at me. Just like when I first saw my mother use the technique, it made me take an unconscious step back and react on instinct, withdrawing electromagnetic mana to create a violent field around my body to increase the potency of the Lightning Dragon I thrust out.


    She fired her weapon accordingly, and much to my dismay, the violet-crimson bolt barreled through my spell as if it wasn''t even there, separating the colossal lightning bolt into many smaller arcs that danced across the cavern to be evaded or ripped asunder by every drow in their way.


    ''Dammit!'' I growled. There were as many drow as there were undead by now, and undead coated this floor of the tower and the level below. Even then, there seemed to be five times as many spiders, ranging from palm to big rig-sized. Tactics were just a word at this point, rendering the passive buffs from the Masterful Tactician perk moot. It was an unpleasant situation to be in, and Iris and Evar still weren''t done.


    In other words, I had to stop acting like a necromancer and engage like a monk - or perhaps a soldier, starting with the biggest problem to date.


    I poured my focus into my senses as I scanned the room for any members of House Za''Darmondiel, only to find none. That was preferable, and so I unleashed my sorcery without restraint, grasping onto the growing wails of the dead and dying to expand their suffrage into a necrotic domain beneath my feet. Simultaneously, my arcana poured through my electromagnetic core to fuse with my deathly core and coil the fused energy up my frame to my head.


    Like a deathly Tesla Coil, sea-green electricity mushroomed from my head, arcing to every dwindling life signature around me as much as the metal scattered above. A cacophony of screams and popping heads erupted through the caverns as necrotic electrons flowed into flesh, competed against by the likes of prayers and arcane incantations that healed wounds as fast as they could form, creating a battle of attrition between the forces of life and death.


    The problem drow had yet to be affected, however, and there was more of her caliber engaging my undead.


    Once the Net highlighted her visage and displayed her dossier, I understood why. She was the Matron of Zimysta''s 1st Leg. One whose station had been rendered moot and whose house and spiders had been destroyed by a draconian beast of umbral fire, Matron Myristrae Nydorden.


    Even her children were gone, having either capitulated to the Sovereign or fallen prey to the beasts of Twilight. Like the other Matrons, she was in G''eldantaar, plotting, interrogating, rehearsing, and preparing; praying for as much divine power as possible before I graced their temple with my wicked presence. Now she was here, unfazed by my spells and unchallenged by my undead. It was just like Etan said and much like I acknowledged several times before. I was woefully ignorant about magic. And so, magic was my weakness. I hardly knew how to cast anything other than basic spells. Nor did I know how to truly defend against magic. Not true magic.


    Not arcane magic.


    I sent almost every spell in my arsenal at her; Gravity Waves, Magnetic Attraction, Magnetic Repulsion, Lightning Dragons, Heat Rays, Gamma Shields, Death Bullets, Umbral Hands, and Noxious Breath. All of them were ripped apart on the spot, deflected, countered, or outright nullified by the sweep of a mana-forged blade. Even Leary had his hands full, managing his shield and his bone boys. And so, with no effective magic to use, it was down to my monastic abilities to protect me; lest I wanted to void her.


    I felt some solace in the fact that I aspired for the class for this very occasion, giving me some confidence when I easily dodged her first two swipes. However, my mirth was stolen by the blades bypassing my flesh entirely as I attempted to block, instead cutting into my spirit to sever my spiritual hand akin to a soul rent by the Void Devil''s Claws.


    My ki flared along with my anger as an incessant numbness overtook my hand. Six knocks rang across the tower, drummed six times in its echo, and banged on my temple in the Under six more times, opening Death''s Door and leaving it ajar for the next hour. The howling breeze of Death''s putrid breath steamed across the battlefield like a shockwave, blasting vital energy from the drow and doubly boosting my undead''s prowess.


    While she didn''t hear the knock, the empowered roar of my undead - and Leary - opened the Matron''s defenses enough for me to infuse my fist with half a pond''s worth of ki to activate Flux Necrosis and rushed beneath her recovering swing to sink my fist into her armpit.


    The necrotic ki decayed the few muscles and bundled nerves before it assailed her organs, leaving her stunned in place for the Furious Blows I unleashed on her.


    My first blow was a low kick that shattered her kneecap, then my leg snapped up to massage her bruised ribs. A knee to the face followed through as she doubled over, yet she recovered with a vertical swipe as I lashed out again.


    "Hah!" I laughed as the ki within me began spilling out from my severed spirit like wildfire. With the Door Stop holding Death''s Door open beneath me, however, my ki was unlimited for the next hour. Sneering, I reversed the flow, pulling the abundant energy into my spirit to merge with every ounce of the vibrantly dense liquid within my first pond and be sent to the tip of my finger, poised toward Matron Nydorden''s eye like a pistol.


    Akin to her mana-forged weapon, the compressed sea-green beam of ki barreled through her mana veil as if it never existed and shot through her orbital like a bullet. A bullet so cold it inflicted frostbite on the surrounding skin before the head could even snap back. A bullet with such a sickly radiance that it forced necrosis to spread on the parts it never touched. Yet it did not penetrate all the way through. As if it hit the back of her skull, the beam pushed her through the air until she slammed against the ceiling, releasing the beam from her shattered skull to continue barreling through the stone.


    As I turned to survey the battlefield, the blue pulse I''d been waiting for cascaded through the tower, capturing everyone''s attention for a critical moment. My wicked mana poured from my frame as the undead capitalized on their moment of weakness, releasing weapons and felling armored bodies to be claimed by the blue mycelium threads.


    Looking around, I saw Iris forming the new bodies of her M&M''s, still shielded by Leary''s barrier and skeletal minions. Meanwhile, Evar seemed to be coming out of his stupor. With that, it was finally time.


    I once again allowed my divine mana to flow freely; albeit this time with guidance. Breathing deeply, I connected to my family''s darkness, spread throughout the Darkworld, and placed my light at its center. I expanded my mind beyond the Tower of Might to the twilight swamp Tava and Reina have been spreading throughout the Falls, then expanded more to connect the tap of that tree Reina sowed and ride the roots to the most draconian parts of the First Sanctuary; if only to guide the energy back to my spirit and into my throat to infuse Twilight within my voice, amplified and corrupted by the Void Devil''s Tongue.


    "Gloom Falls."


    The most draconian parts of my twilight poured through the Tower of Might, erupting to swathe the greater Zimysta Falls in the fires of a darkness so deep they couldn''t begin to comprehend it. Evar''s buried Divine Tree was subsumed by the umbral flames, now pouring out to contact the still waters of the twilit swamp and flash to eldritch steam that would soon feed the entirety of Shujen''s Darkworld.


    As the blue wave flowed back to Iris to form the bodies of her new companions, it seemed to beckon a wave of that gilded darkness to our location, ridden by the beast of my twilight, desperate to end those retched things they called spiders and protect Evar coming out of his stupor. Yet I paid little attention to either of them, instead allowing my divine mana to flow freely while I took flight deeper into the tower, gathering necrotic darkness in one lung and light in the other.


    Iris unleashed her power as I passed, warping her new troops out of dodge while Leary dropped his barrier and took flight, spreading his sorcery over the tower to summon bone domes around every goblin he could see. I wove through them as they sank into the ground or shot through the open walls to disappear into the night, watching Evar be pulled toward those like him by the gilded light.


    With them out of the way, I turned my attention to the surrounding tower to search for the largest patch of the divine tree trunk and plummeted towards it, the Void Devil''s Claws extended and primed to impale the divine wood. Being made for souls, however, the abyssal claws sank into and were subsequently halted by the arcane grains, causing my momentum to transfer into the trunk with an earth-shattering crack. Being indestructible, however, the abyssal blades in my fingers continued clawing and peeling back the bark to reveal those rich veins to my maw.


    As I inhaled, I poured my will over those vibrant grains, imagining the divine tree''s death and subsequent rebirth before I unleashed my Crepuscular Breath.


    A condensed cone of fiery gilded darkness shot from my mouth and impacted the tree at point-blank range, spreading the unholy pure energies to the four winds to kill and decay and reform what existed into an accursed mockery of itself. The violet grains lost their luster as the necrotic darkness seeped within, blanching to a pale gray that drank in the golden smoke to give a new hue to the fibers, soon pitting the tower in a dusk-like ambiance. The draconic and twilight beasts within roared in delight as the roots above, next to, and beneath them shifted and bulged, uprooting countless tons of ancient stone to unleash my corruptive light on the spiders and those they mockingly called their friends. The drow and demon spiders flailed as their footholds were drawn into orbits around the floating debris, leaving them open and largely unaware of the monsters of Zimysta''s Dawn reaching their maws toward them, bringing an end to the Tower of Might.


    Giving rise to a Tower of Twilight.

 407 - Drow Magic.

    Eban Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    Many were disappointed in Amun, for he showed little interest in the history of Zimysta Falls. More were frustrated he didn''t display his fighting prowess at the Tower of Might; illogically so, for nearly all had either seen or heard of his walk through Shujen and felt his march through Nydorden Halls. But alas, the eyes of the avaricious remained unsatiated in both House Za''Darmondiel and Mii''etus Praesyris.


    In both places, he learned. Yet at the Tower of Might, he took mental notes and, in turn, gave suggestions for improvements encompassing both architectural design and curriculum - suggestions that were revolutionary, might I add, but suggestions that would be fed to some spider and forgotten because, Champion or not, he was male. Worse, he was a half-breed. Despite that, no one could keep his name away from their hands or out of their mouths. Not for what he had done, but for what others had done in his name.


    My scrying eyes noticed the blue wave before any other - save perhaps the matrons - but only because I felt, heard, and saw its catalyst - the ''disappearance'' of Mala and Daulery''s families and the boons they gave our House. Consequently, I saw, heard, and felt the yield of such a wave. A once characteristic cavern of cascading water reflecting an aura of bioluminescence became a dreary depression of plummeting mud and dust in moments. A cloud of darkness and divine foulness had been spreading through the Falls ever since. Yet sparks of holy radiance bloomed within, granting a few of us the means to see through the ancient abyss.


    Some of those Sparks took my baby sisters - and good riddance! Yet, days later, another Spark killed a matron''s youngest daughters, her sons, and a few slaves and turned them into something terrifying, so that was something. But then, the Spark of Sparks took my father, and now, the Tower of Might was no more. When I saw him drifting toward my tower as a wraith, I naturally assumed the same would happen to the other Eyes and Legs and no doubt here. He would give me revolutionary ideas to bring this tower I cared nothing about to greatness. Then, perhaps his goblin would come and show me some legendary ability while the Elven Devil stared and toyed and stressed me out until I sinned and had no choice but to agree to join him; or die and join him.


    What I got instead was the arcane daughter of this devil and the renowned hedge wizard of Bakewia escorting an excitable drow child. Something that was rarely, if ever, seen in the halls of Arcanis Praesyris; much less tolerated. He had no suggestions to make for this tower, as he had everything to learn, and the enthusiasm in which he did was uncanny, for it was beaten out of every drow child, male or female, as soon as they could walk and talk. Even if such was not the case, it was drilled into our minds by the macabre nature of our home. Sights of slaves being tortured; detailed stories of killing, maiming, and crippling with both might and magic; magical darkness encompassing a house, then dispersing to reveal its disappearance. While still a child, he was too old to have such an attitude beaten out of him. Being a Child of the Nox, the stories of gore only amused him, spurring his fascination to where he and his two companions learned many things before I could even teach them; and all things in a matter of hours.


    The machine woman correctly surmised the tower was structured like the Tower of Might. Faerie Flames, Stepping Plates, Woven Lights, Levitation, and Darkness were all innate drow abilities one needed mastery of to even reach the tower''s entrance and spend centuries climbing in hopes of reaching my position. Foolishly so. Indeed, Amun surmised I was tasked by those up high to rise to my station just as my brother ascended to his. Or¡­ perhaps he already knew - that he was told such things. On the other hand, the de-matured Wilson Koorb correctly assumed an Arcane Wizard''s prowess came from the number of natures they could make of mana. Yet that was just the beginning of this maddening endeavor.


    "Your brother tells me you have much to teach me about magic."


    "The walking God of Mana knows nothing about magic." I scoffed derisively. Both at his words and at the thought of my brother''s fate. "How is that even possible?"


    He only blinked at me with that placid gaze of his for a long second. Long enough to make me realize my foolishness. "I am the God of Mana. Not magic."


    "Right." I sighed, taking into account the wandering hedge-wizard and the strange girl. "Tell me, then. What do you know of mana?"


    "It is a catalyst for change." He answered immediately. "From what I''ve come to understand, it is a type of radiative energy with material properties that both acts and reacts to matter, energy, life, and conscious will; in order of weakest to strongest. It permeates all realities, albeit at varying densities, replacing itself whenever used by some process of Telin''s design. Its effects are based on evolution or change, yet the effect is limited in lower concentrations."


    "While true, you know next to nothing, so my point still stands. Hah!" I huffed, spawning some mana hands to pull an assortment of tomes and scrolls from my shelves while muttering how unbelievable this was - and I wanted him to hear me! If he read those tomes upon my return, however, he did so with his divinity, as the action was so fast all I saw was him touch them before they were left spinning lazily around his head, waiting to be grabbed by his companions.


    "Let me guess, you''re an arcane caster as well?"


    "No," Wilson huffed without averting his eyes from a tome about Arcane Glyphs. "I''m a sorcerer."


    "What kind?" I dared ask.


    "A necromancer, of course." He raised his arm, allowing his robe to fall and reveal an arm made of an all-too-familiar metal. "A Nox Lich."


    "And that arm." I looked at Amun. "Your doing?"


    "Of course." He smirked. "I''m the only one of the Troupe that''s not augmented, and they''re all sorcerers."


    ''All of them,'' I echoed, glancing at Iris. "And what of your magic cores - your affinities?"


    "Corrosive, Chemical, Decay, and Disaster Magic." Wilson offhandedly said while still reading through his tomes. "Too destructive, they are. So could you not ask to see it? That comes later."


    The thought had not crossed my mind, for I was speechless and dumbfounded until Iris conjured a ball of mithral from her very own spirit. "You do not have an affinity for mithral!" I nearly shouted.


    "Nope!" She beamed; then proceeded to accent her words like a child. "Even better. Molecular Magic."


    "I do not know what a molecule is."


    "You''ll learn." She snipped, then proceeded to blast a stone chair with her magic, causing it to spin with a terrible grating sound until space itself warbled, warping the chair behind her. And she sat with the cheekiest of smiles. "I also have cores for Rotational and Warp mana. And mana itself."


    "Of course you do." I signed in defeat, turning to Amun. "And you?"


    Rather than say anything, he smiled and held out his hand, allowing the blue veins around his wrist to spread to his palm and grow a¡­ mushroom. Silver in color, this shroom saw fit to emit a cloud of cubic spores throughout the casting hall, each showcasing Amun using a deep purple mana in various ways. Gravity, it was called, and mostly used for practical means, I quickly saw. It was indeed what he used to walk on walls and fly in that strange way that was more like falling in a different direction. The only other spells to use such aberrant mana seemed to involve ripping the ground into the sky and using its immense crushing force to create isolated realms through the act of destruction. Once crushed smooth and spherical, he set those ''woven worlds'' to loom high above the surface; or, in one case, it was used to create weapons.


    "God Craft. A fitting name for such a spell." I chortled at the sight of that sentient weapon Novl whines about till this day, forged by the same spell. Yet it was hard to be awed by anything that followed. No matter how fascinated I was.


    Spatial and Temporal magics in one core; with such a revolutionary transmutation affinity, it was almost frustrating to see him have it. He claimed to have experimented with it, learning he could only send things to the future, not the past, but that was it. And he openly admitted to having no interest in reading far into the future. Thus, he only made small distortions in space and time with it. Teleportation; Time dilation; Stealing lifespans and granting longer lives to others. It could be used for so much more! Divination, of course, but the Schools of Warding, Charming, and even Mirages as well.


    Electromagnetism was the same. Revolutionary, yet mundane, when grasped in his hands. He used it for Divination almost exclusively. Or, in rare cases, bolstered himself with the potent energies. And from what I saw, his last affinity was even more paltry. He could irradiate things; much like the negative radiation in this world of darkness, only lighter. And of course, he used it to summon the force of Tiatus itself to destroy an army at the end of his Walk.


    If only I was to be his teacher instead of Etan. That thought had plagued me since I first learned my brother ran off with the Eternal Champion. Now, however, I had some solace.


    "If I may offer two bits of advice."


    "Please." He nodded - leaned forward, even.


    "Sorcerers differ from wizards in that you are born with a unique type of mana that affects your physiology, passed through the generations. Your sorcery is as much a part of you as your brain. Thus, there is no structured way to use your magic, unlike wizards, who depend on sigils, words of power, and spell components. Each sorcerer must develop ways to use their magic that suit them best. In a sense, this is also true of magic cores - affinities. In your case, you''ve trained in martial arts for practically your entire life. So first, I recommend casting spells through your martial arts. That will greatly simplify the act during combat. And, mastering that is, after all, one prerequisite to becoming a Magus."


    "Interesting." He nodded, glancing away as the sigils turned in his mind, only for them to dart back to mine. "And the second?"


    "A bit like the first." I shrugged. "You are a monk. Your mana was used to form the circuits your ki now flows through, yet they are still be capable of cycling mana. If not, you can always make alternative paths. Either way, meditating while cycling your various types of mana through such paths should yield some interesting effects."You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    His eyes widened at the revelation. A sight I can only huff and shake my head at. For a few moments, at least. "I know not what the results would be, mind you. At the very least, I assume you could gain some insight into new spells. And at most - at least with your space-time mana, I believe you should be able to glimpse into the past of your surrounding environment or any object of your focus. Perhaps even the future."


    "Any other advice?"


    "I highly advise you to study each College of Wizardry and learn how to cast such spells with your sorcery and all your affinities," I said, gathering the appropriate books from the shelves, as well as many more. "The College of Charming is that of emotions and mental manipulation; Conjuration is the creation of controllable entities from mana; Manifestation is creating matter from mana; The College of Mirages is about illusions or altering the senses or perception; your affinities are all Transmutation abilities, as it''s the conversion of mana to another type of energy; and, according to the Colleges, your sorcery is a Summoning type, as your necromancy and darkness is summoned from Underworld and Shadow Realm, respectively. Finally, there is the College of Warding, which encompasses defense and auras for positive or negative effects. Knowing these are of significant benefit to both elves and those with magic cores, even if they are without arcana. You, however, are a sorcerer. Casting with this darkness around us is akin to lifting your leg, requiring no mana. One could only imagine what such knowledge would do to an ability.


    "In addition." I tapped at a particularly thick and crusty tome floating at the bottom of the stack. "This is everything those old elves of the Motherland shared with the Necro King and the Iron Magus about evolution, divine trees, classes, and mana; as well as everything we kept to ourselves."


    "Why thank you!" He beamed. "In exchange, how about I show you something?"


    "¡­Such as?" I dared ask; and did not regret it once his childish beam turned into a devilish grin. "My divinity. But I warn you, Eban. I am a God of Change. So pouring my magic into this cavern will change you. Into what? That is your choice."


    That was just gravy on the meat pie. I was sure the matrons were already in a state of semi-panic because of him. Like me and everyone else, they realized their plans were ripped asunder the moment he descended into these accursed Falls. And that was without his companions roaming about the place freely, including the huge ''drow'' who waltzed into the house.


    Unlike them, however, I adjusted my plans accordingly.


    "Although I was born a divine soul, I did not ascend until I evolved. And even that wasn''t my real ascension." He said, beckoning me to the balcony to gaze upon the many, many onlookers and the darkness that had been spreading since his arrival.


    While it was the same darkness that had always persisted here, so far beneath the surface, the presence of a similar energy pouring off Amun turned it into a living veil even we could not peer through. Such was the power of the Nox, the descendants of He who brought death and darkness to the Material Plane, turning it into the Mortal Plane; the descendants of those cosmic creators of the Void Tree, the Underworld, the Shadow Realm, and the Darkworld. They were sovereigns of those things so foul. That was the main reason, in truth, for the matrons staying put in G''eldantaar.


    It was the only place that remained theirs.


    "Before all of that, however, I had a long talk with Telin."


    "You spoke to him?!" I gasped. And gasped again upon hearing my echoing inquiry. Yet Amun''s childish snort remained as low as a whisper.


    "I met him. Before I was born."


    "W- what did he say?"


    In true drow or devil fashion, a wide smirk erupted across Amun''s face while he began speaking, echoing his words across what I was sure to be all the Falls. "He first told me about the multiverse and those who preside over it. The hierarchy of Eternals, and beneath them, the hierarchy of gods who travel between those universes. He then told me of this universe - created by him in anticipation of my arrival in the multiverse. You see, the Eternals knew not what my station should have been, so they decided to test me. I would live as the Eternal God of this universe. All so I may be judged and deemed capable of joining him and his peers in the multiverse once this universe comes to an inevitable end. After that, he told me of this universe as he held it in his palm. A universe far larger and far more expansive than the Mortal Plane, mind you. He''s done a bit of¡­tinkering to it, in his words. His later words led me to assume he meant his intervention with the elves. He is the source of mana and classes, and he''s the reason the portals appeared between the realms. A domain that has since been passed to me.


    "He then told me that he made the humans of Maru too weak, so he gave them help in the form of affinity cores, as they were on the verge of extinction after too many catastrophes." He explained, making me and the many drow around us send echoes of laughter into the darkness. "He then vaguely discussed magic, stating power lay in one''s understanding of an element or phenomenon, which is then combined with imagination and force of will to create a spell. A calculated design by him, I''m sure, as there would be nothing more troublesome to grasp for a logical mind like his and mine. Anyway, he then discussed the benefits of my godhood, mostly that I could choose how I would look, but neither my abilities nor the circumstances of my birth were up to me. That, and I have a perfect recall of both this life and my past life."


    "Your p- past life?" I stammered. For I had heard nothing of the sort in all the tales told of him.


    "Yes." He grinned madly, gesturing to himself. "I look just as I did back then, minus the eldritch additions. I was born in a place much like the worlds I wove above. A godless, magic-less world of humans and nature, filled only with the machinations we created. I was relatively poor. Then I was a soldier. Then I was relatively wealthy. The world changed drastically twice in my lifetime. We developed technology- er, machinations that could come close to rivaling the enchantments of this universe, thus I became a researcher and spent a century or so learning how to do¡­ everything. Anyway. After that, Telin told me the basics of classes and gave me a warning. That this life of mine is a test. I would be privileged and cursed all the same, for my blessings would one day run dry. Yet no matter how gruesome or glorious it may seem, it is neither Hell nor Paradise.''"


    "I see why you are so militant now." I sighed after a long pause. "Why do you think he chose you?"


    "Indeed." He nodded. Then shrugged as if my question was irrelevant. "I assume it''s because we''re similar in many ways; brutally logical introverts made to be charmingly manipulative extroverts by reality - I''m a cunt hair away from being psychopath, essentially. Or perhaps I''m a functional psychopath. Born as skeptical cynics, experienced in ways that led to a general disdain of humanity and the Culture we created - a Culture I''ve seen both above and here, in the Falls of Zimysta. It is a Culture of pointlessness, expanding in perpetuity until it inevitably self-destructs. Telin and I were powerless against this culture, as many are. Yet we were both cursed as dreamers. Thus, we devoted ourselves to a lifetime of research, development, and progress; morally ambiguous in our pursuits. And so, I am here. The walking God of Mana, blessed with exceptional abilities, cursed with exceptional bloodlines."


    "Exceptional indeed," I muttered, looking to those who bore the brooch of my house. And most likely his. "And¡­" I turned back to him, "You had no choice in this?"


    He turned to me incredulously, as if the thought had never crossed his mind. "Well, that''s not entirely true. I suppose it would be apt to say I was the catalyst for all this happening. I have no regrets coming here, to this universe allegedly tailored for me. In this galaxy, he called Meighen. Under the light of this star, he called Tiatus. Quite the contrary. I decided a long time ago that I had no ambitions to join Telin and his peers. I decided, shortly after being born, to remain in this universe as its Eternal God, exploring the realms to uncover all its secrets; and when there are none left to uncover, I''ll change everything to create more things to discover. And so it was. I made a plan. I devoted myself to training this body and my vassals. I educated them in the ways of war my people mastered in that magic-less realm. I shared with them the technology we created. I founded the capital of what would become my empire before even arriving at the Bodhi Tree, and once at the Bodhi Tree, I founded a guild and the industry to support it. Thus, my ascension saw me become the ArcaTech. Not the architect, but the Arcane Technologist."


    He paused to slide his hand across the aged railings, spawning silver spores that gave rise to more of those strange shrooms and more of those silver cubes, all depicting the same thing. House Za''Darmondiel, of which, not even a trace remained. Usurped and destroyed, it was, by the de-matured wizard before me and the giantess of a drow they called Sovereign. All that remained of it was the smooth stone carved by long-dead slaves.


    "But before even that, I developed my most revolutionary powers. One is for the surface, in a way." He lifted his left hand, funneling light through his pinky and darkness through his thumb to fuse them into a pale blue light. "Moonlight."


    "That, however, is not what I wish to show you." He said, closing his fist and, in turn, shrouding the Falls in that pervasive darkness. "Or rather, that is not what belongs here, in the Darkworld."


    With his other hand, Amun withdrew a stream of light and a filament of darkness in parallel. They swirled around each other as it arced across his night, leaving in its rippling wake of violet, gold, and blue waters a speckled trail of gilded motes that illuminated the Falls in its entirety. It was through their light that I was made to see what lingered in the darkness. Countless beasts of light and night, some draconic, others boasting the same black feathers Amun wore on his shoulders, corrupting everything they came across. But it was beyond that which truly stole our breath.


    Far below, in what had since become the muddied basin of Zimysta Falls, was a sprawling web of finger-like roots that bore countless branches and vines. Readily, they reached up the walls and subsequently blossomed upon contacting those glimmering globes; them and the countless beasts only seen or heard of in records. Both onto each other and into those glowing crops, those beasts pounced, skittered, and sailed, uncaring of the many spiders rushing to meet them.


    "Twilight." The God finally declared. "Light in tandem with Darkness. Aspects of Twilight that exist both far above the skies of the Mortal Plane; and here, in the Darkworld. And yet also Purity and Corruption. Living and Dying. Drow and Devil, and yet still someone who simply wishes to explore and learn. Not to mention... the Exalted Gloom."


    I grew fascinated. And for the first time in many years, frightened as the wave of twilight finally reached the uppermost reaches of the Falls, the crimson crown of this accursed spider, in which the Matriarchs have spent their time praying and worshiping.


    "However." He growled, shifting both his tone and the million motes around us into something more¡­ gloomy. A darker blue, close to black but with hints of purple. Something, again, that felt alive and menacing. "Telin''s fucking slaves - or rather, the elves who enslaved themselves to Telin''s whims seem obsessed with making things difficult for me. Caelarin despises me for slaying a unicorn. Or at least his followers do, as King Corym of Rhar has sent mercenaries to smite me in his name already. Not to mention the followers of a certain demonic goddess of eight-legged creatures. Not entirely for what I have done, but for what my cult will soon do. So, Eban Za''Darmondiel, the students and faculty of Arcanis Praesyris, drow, and slaves of Zimysta Falls, the time for you and everyone else to make a choice has come."


    "To join you? Is that it?" I asked, masking both my interest and despair at the thought masterfully. Or so I thought.


    "To be free." He corrected. "You can join us, remain here, go elsewhere, or be taken by the Spider Bitch like the others who expressed interest in me or doubted the Matrons. I can''t exactly see what she''s doing to the rest of them. But I can see what they''ve been trying to do to your brother. Though they struggle, for he has already changed."


    "Changed." I shuddered at the mere thought. So much so that I nearly panicked when I found myself asking. "What did you do to him?"


    "He made a deal with the Elven Devil. The same pact I''m offering you, Eban Za''Darmondiel. He is my teacher in martial arts and of drow. I am his leader. I gave him my power and knowledge in exchange for his knowledge and power. He is my champion. Yet he became so on one condition. That I free you, Eban. You, your little sisters, your father, and every other drow in these Falls who secretly wishes for a better life outside the demon spider''s webs. And so, I am here!" he shouted, turned, and spread his arms about the tower, now rumbling with the threat of collapse. "I am here, bottling the anger of watching my fucking champion be tortured by the hand of his dearest mother. A cardinal sin for the Nox. For even we, the descendants of Death, do not kill kin.


    "And so, I am here." He growled more grimly, spreading that deep rumble against the entirety of the Falls - his newest unholy land. "Whether you like it or not, I am here to free you from her demonic webs."


    He held his gaze on G''eldantaar with a great sigh whilst reaching into the shadows beneath him, withdrawing a handbell that positively radiated the foulest necrotic energies. Divinely so, once he fiddled with the enchanted rings encircling the neck and gave it a good swing.


    "And so I am here." He sighed a final time. "Report."

 408 - Wails of the Baby Lich

    Amun.


    8th of Sextrand, 1492.


    Arcanis Praesyris.


    13:12


    ***


    "Report."


    My necrotic command rode the wave of my voice as it traveled across the Falls, nudging the dead, damned, and dying to rise from their slumber of suffering and set their sights on this ancient cavern. Shadows, undead, and the undying alike set to work to realize my vision, reshaping stone, deconstructing buildings, and slaying those who acted against them with no protest. Its reverberations affected the darkness, infusing it with something foul enough to give a sense of foreboding to all who treaded within its embrace; a warning and a statement all the same.


    "What was that?" Eban asked, making far more noise than his excessive jewelry and trinkets as he stumbled forth to peer through the magical darkness.


    "What do you think Wilson''s profession is regarding our Troupe?" I pointed at the Baby Lich hopping on his otter before it swam off through the night.


    "Wilson Koorb?" He looked at me incredulously. "I would assume the hedge wizard has become a wizard."


    "Nope." I snorted. "You see, my Sorcerous path tasked me with gaining four wicked warlocks and having them evolve under my Divine Tree, dubbed the Horsemen by my path; Pestilence, Famine, Death, and War. Wilson is my Horsemen of Death; a Nox Lich, my first Undying Fiend. Not a wizard, but a sorcerer, and the artificer of our Troupe. The Eldritch Engineer, tasked with creating machinations for my devils and undead."


    "I... I see." Eban nodded, turning to Iris. "And you?"


    "I''m the Troupe''s cleric." She beamed, then released a spurt of her warp mana to shroud herself in a reality-bending field of blue that made a distinct warble as it teleported her to her rendezvous point.


    As for me, I turned to the drow wizard. "Our wizard shall be you, Eban Za''Darmondiel, should you agree. Like your brother, our deal will see you teach me and my Legions spellcraft and wizardry. In exchange, I will teach you everything I know about the natural world and how it''s used to enhance one''s spells. I will help you create a wizarding school, the likes of which the realms have never seen. You will become my pantheon''s God of Spellcraft, and whatever else you choose. You don''t have to decide now. For now, witness the fall of Zimysta."


    I turned to clasp my hands before my chest and closed my eyes. Immediately, I connected to the darkness spread throughout Shujen''s Darkworld and drew it into an orbit around me. Focusing inward, I latched onto the vibrant energy contained within the paths and ponds carved through my spirit, if only to find the darkly divine spark given to me by Nergal hidden within.


    More of a feeling than energy, it was, and so I held onto that feeling while I inhaled, drawing the surrounding darkness tighter around my body, glowing with light. As I meditated in ways Veil of Shadows would, I looked deeper into myself, into my pit - my Cursed Well - to connect to the brightest souls I claimed and bring them to the forefront of my mind; in turn splaying first-person perspectives of the Troupe across the darkness.


    My divine mana flourished with the activation of Soul Surveillance and Soul Relay, sending a rush of energy down the integrated circuitry in my legs to sprout a silver mushroom which released spores that solidified into feeds of each member of the Troupe and more. House Za''Darmondiel, once an imposing feature on the front face of the Falls, was still very much so. Only its decrepit state told a different tale to those who gazed upon it from below. No traffic flowed from its gate, now missing the trademark Faerie Flames illuminating the other Eyes. Only a pestilential, acrid darkness poured from it, not even the gilded glow of twilight. On the other hand, something far darker poured from the lesser House Nydorden a bit below and further away from the Eye, yet still connected to House Za''Darmondiel via the extensive tunnels carved within. With their Matron raised by my necrotic ki, her spiders hunted to extinction by Sovereign Galendra, and her children either turned coat or captured, all that was left of them were severed corpses and the eldritch smoke born from their usurper''s draconic umbral fire; so dissimilar to the Flames of Moil. When coupled with the Disastrous Shadowfire Acid spell cast by Wilson, both houses were partially destroyed, set on a time delay before they blew.


    That time was now.


    The acid that corroded the house and dissolved into the stone began off-gassing, flooding the halls enough for the noxious fumes to pour from the House as a limnic eruption. The black gas, indistinguishable amidst the darkness, poured down Zimysta faster than the falls did, enveloping the market and those scattered about it in a mist that indiscriminately corroded. Flesh sloughed off of bone as tar, wood gnarled, decayed, and fizzed into moss, and stone eroded to dirt; dried and compacted as if baked by the sun. Only my twilight - my station as the Nox''s Judge saved the dying who were worthy. They watched the crimson-eyed drow, their gear, and their spiders be submerged in gas to sizzle, disintegrate, and effervesce into sickly black clouds before it was manipulated by the likes of the Baby Nox Lich, Wilson Koorb.


    Tons and metric tons of gas condensed at a point beneath Zimysta''s right radial eye, like a lesion that popped and split its pus into two streams that fed the Glyph of Fusion; or as I knew it, Vesica Piscis. Hells, it could have been a Venn Diagram for all I cared, for it held the power to fuse more than two types of mana. In this case, the noxious fumes born from Wilson''s Shadowfire were fused with the putrid green of his Decay Mana and emerged from the glyph as a solid point of a greenish-black energy, widening into a flared shape until a house of a spearhead formed, trailed by a meters-long haft that rested above the Baby Lich''s hand.


    Aimed at Zimysta''s 3rd Eye, House Noqutyl, the Spear of Disintegration was launched as if shot by a railgun, forming a gleaming streak that sheared through the eye and ate at its surface like runaway nanites depicted in science fiction - which never worked that fast in reality. It impacted silently, turning the stone black and disappearing it before the spear could continue, unleashing a blue-black and white wave across the eye''s surface that left the web of conical chambers and rod-like corridors fully exposed to the tainted environment.


    Like blood, the open wound spewed the sounds of suffering into the caverns as if to compete with the ancient falls, oblivious to the few germs riding the winds inside to infect the exposed flesh. Like pathogens, they were comparatively small and yet great enough to wreak havoc on beings so grand in scale that they may as well have been from another dimension. The first of them, Germ Zero, as it were, landed at the back of the pack, with his closest companion landing close by. As his eyes scanned over the slaves and lesser members of the House collapsed and convulsing in pain, I looked through them, seeing Grimm''s reapers hugging their heads and feet, oft illuminated in the gilded aura granted by my Divine Sight.


    Those with auras who saw the Shadow of Death at their feet were judged worthy to live and thus ceased their writhing as twilight ebbed into their spirits. Those with auras who saw the Shadow of Death at their heads were given offers, deals, or pacts that some refused and others did not, allowing their bodies to be dragged Under while their souls inhabited new bodies made of foreign flesh and arcane technology. Those with no auras released their dying breaths, exhausting a veritable mushroom cloud of necrotic ki and divine energy that swam to me with the utmost haste, only to rebound and give rise to a battalion of banshees, revenants, ghouls, and more.


    On Wilson''s command, the undead collectively sank into the shadows like ebbing tides, opening the grand foyer that looked more like a miniature cavern to Wilson''s eyes. His eyes bounced between the eight doors or corridors connected to the voluminous space of carved stone and silken tapestries until the rumblings gave rise to an army of slaves covered from head to toe in arcane armor. The noxious fumes roiled harmlessly around them as they threw themselves into the few invaders with reckless abandon, creating a veritable flesh avalanche of screaming souls and waving swords; tormented souls and corrupted minds.


    On Wilson''s command, the undead sprang into action like a coiled spring. The many banshees inhaled as one and unleashed a collective wail that blew apart the ranks like sonic cluster grenades. Goblins, humans, and even orcs went flying while many more slumped to the ground, having either fallen unconscious or been relegated to cradling their bleeding ears in agony, where they were open to being filleted and raised by the rising undead tide.


    On their Goddess'' command, the demon spiders poised overhead turned their hindquarters toward the ground and flexed, spewing nets of viscous, almost waxy cobwebs over all involved. Simultaneously, the drow soldiers and wizards of House Noqutyl drew wove their arcana together, forming a swirling blue vortex overhead that shifted from green, to yellow, to orange before it bathed the cavern in the heat and light of a concentrated conflagration that was sent hurtling down like a meteor.


    The cobwebs combusted as if they were made of napalm, erupting into cascading explosions that spread thick mists of dust and simmering flesh amidst a trio of animated bones and their surviving undead. Sneering in ways only a skeleton could, Wilson chicken-winged his arm and plunged it into the dark recess of his armpit, withdrawing a vial of Alchemical Shadowfire to hold overhead and crush in hand.


    The black fire''s gray core glowed white as the corruptive nature of Cononthoth''s divine right took hold, turning the once-orange flames of alchemical fire into a roiling blanket of Shadowfire. Unlike the Flames of Moil, the fire of a venerable red dragon corrupted with darkness burned hot. Flesh was charred and burned away as if it had never been there, leaving a husk of blackened bone given animation by the draconic darkness imbued within. Before the flames could rise, however, arcana poured from the wells of the drow, who collectively reversed the energy''s polarity in ways I''d never before seen. The blue ambiance of the energy brightened to white until it reversed, not to black but to red, and it attacked the spell readily, nullifying or countering the umbral flames into a silent stage set to be taken by the new wave of slaves entering the fray.


    This time, however, Ilar, Ryldin, and Viconia launched themselves while Wilson sank into the shadows.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Creatures of the eternal night and the living dead alike engaged the drow, slave armies, and demonic spiders in the most basic form of warfare, clashing with swords and clubs amidst a mortal sprawl of anger and anguish. But above, things were different. The three Undying Fae chased after the low-ranked drow of House Noqutyl with extreme prejudice, uncaring of the spiders giving chase, for they were hunted by an undead being of darkness wreathed in armor.


    Night flew through the air on wings of shadow, disappearing in darkness to reappear beneath a barn-sized demon spider and thrust his spear through its belly. The force lifted it from the wall and it sought to right itself with a web hastily spewed from its ass, yet Night funneled the shadows into his blade, making it flow down the metal to grow into a cruel great sword that was brought down to bisect the beast in two.


    Night bellowed as the spider dispersed into a puddle of sizzling goo, unable to be raised in undeath. Further ahead, Ryldin, who was chasing a low-ranked drow of the 3rd Leg, House Malice, was blitzed with four spells at point-blank range. While most bounced off her mana veil or were deflected by our innate spell resistance, one spell, in particular, affected her greatly.


    A thin dart of searing red arcana shot through her growing flesh, ignoring her spirit to take root in her bones. She screamed in rage as she pulled arcana from her spirit to be released as an explosive wave, blowing her assailants meters away but leaving them unscathed and satisfied enough to dart off toward a different target, leaving Ryldin to writhe in agony as her mithral-wreathed bones began glowing red hot.


    I took the opportunity to share the moment with Eban while my divine mana reached out to her of its own volition, replacing the arcana she''d spent at no cost to me. "As I told you, and in Telin''s words," I said to Eban. "One''s understanding of nature is the most important thing regarding spellcraft, and so, the wizards of my Legions have been creating a new school of wizardry, along with a new class of spells. Technical Wizardry, and War Spells. In this case, it''s the First Law of Thermodynamics; otherwise known as the Law of Conservation of Energy. In nature, energy can neither be created nor destroyed. It can only transform."


    This time, I sent out some divine mana with an idea and watched Eban as the seed of inspiration took root in his niece''s mind. She reacted instantly, holding her palms out before her and sighing in relief once the yellow glow in her bones began dimming, cooling as the abundant heat energy she''d been gifted was redirected, concentrated, and transformed into an energy more foul. And with a much more aggressive sneer, she returned the energy to its origin.


    A beam of sickly green fire shot from her hands and swung across the cavern as she set those who harmed her in her sights. One of them didn''t move fast enough and was caught in midair. A single pass saw her armor corrode and her flesh burn until all that remained was blackened bone, cracked with green embers that raced up her leg as if it had a mind of its own. She fell as a lifeless figure moments later and subsequently rose with orbitals fueled by necromancy, only to fall into the darkness and reappear from the shade of a stalactite next to their former comrades.


    Crimson eyes wide, the drow lashed out with scimitars and arcana in an attempt to distance themselves. Meanwhile, Ryldin kept dumping her heat. The swinging green lance loosed stalactites and ancient stones from the cavernous ceiling, only to be caught in arcane webs by the drow to give them a 3-D field of places to hide from Ryldin''s wrath and the others in pursuit.


    Satisfied with my assist, I looked deeper into the House, where Viconia was on a mission to deal with the lesser House Malice, accompanied by a platoon of ghouls, banshees, revenants, and shades. Beast, slave, and drow alike attacked them with the methods they normally would. Poisoned quarrels, bladed ambushes, and trap spells. However, they soon found neither poison nor blood loss affected her, and their spells were no more dangerous for her than it was for them. Thus, their tactics changed.


    Unfortunately for them, Viconia''s had as well.


    More than even her mother, Viconia fell into her new nature seamlessly. Seeming innately to understand the nigh-limitless arcane potential of Undying Fae, she constantly radiated a sickly domain at maximum concentration and unleashed every spell with everything she had. The drow, much less the 3rd Leg, never stood a chance. When they used spells, she bolstered herself beyond what was formerly possible and crushed them with sheer might. When they used might, she casually cast spells more powerful than my Lightning Dragon. When they used both, she used the environment itself, reducing the lesser House Malice to a pile of rubble and suffering souls to be judged.


    Viconia was maneuvering through the back tunnels en route to the 3rd Eye by the time I finished my judgement, and so I looked over to Wilson, reclining in Ilar''s shadow while she raced to the House''s depths.


    Their last barrier stood behind a band of dense, umbral smoke, held back by an arcane barrier. Lunging toward it, Ilar released something from her spirit that took root in her hand as crackling energy.  A rich violet-blue, the arcana solidified as it sparked in her palm, cascading up to form a handle and onward to forge a drow scimitar just as her hand rose. A venomous hiss erupted through the house as her sword fell, splitting the barrier in two before Ilar''s momentum carried her inside; bolstered and primed to lash out at the closest enemy.


    Those enemies were identified as the 5th and 6th daughters of House Noqutyl, Nedxae, and Qilaeanna Noqutyl, as well as the sons and daughters of House Malice. Being an Arcane Witch, Qilaeanna was Ilar''s priority target.


    Grasping the ambient arcana, Ilar formed a geyser and used it to launch toward Qilaeanna, standing on a ledge over a dozen meters above. Ilar seemed to be overtaken by bloodlust, such was her ferocity. Thus, it came as no surprise when Nedxae used a countering spell to negate Ilar''s propulsion.


    The sisters snickered as the red arcana faded around a falling Ilar. Yet Ilar snickered back as Night stepped from their shadows, holding his spear horizontally as he lunged. His blade dug into Qilaeanna''s lower back while the handle cracked against Nedxae''s vertebrae and he pushed off, hurdling the three of them over the ledge. Ilar recast her propulsion spell at once and set to work double-teaming the largest problem on the playing field as common sense dictated. As for her sister, Nedxae''s obvious reaction to protect their lifeline backfired, as her focus on remaining in midair made her unaware of the Eldritch Engineer below them, picking his skeletal arms apart.


    As if he were making a floating modern art masterpiece, Wilson used umbral tendrils to position his detached fingers atop his palm, held together in a crude sphere. While his radius, humerus, and ulnae were arranged into a hexagon, Wilson openly snarled, giving the umbral tentacles access to his canines, around which they secured themselves and pulled, wrenching them from his mouth to form the final two Vectors of Equilibrium.


    Arcana took hold upon the umbral tendrils'' release of the eldritch glyph, suffusing its surface with green-black energy before it imploded, passing like a specter across the cavern and through the walls to encompass the entire house in a domain of negative arcana.


    "Of course, I taught the Troupe all I know of arcane glyphs." I turned, snickering at Eban''s reaction to the drow falling from their footholds, their levitations and spider-like graces ceasing much like the arcane armor and spells they were weaving. "Or, as they are known in my past life, sacred geometry. Wilson took that further and started using the Vector of Equilibrium; the Glyph of Negativity, the cornerstone of his fighting prowess. He became a Mage Slayer before his ritual. After, it merged with his Bio-Alchemy to become the Fighting Artificer; Mutable War Mage."


    It seemed he was too shocked or intrigued to respond. He just continued staring at his sister, Ilar, cheekily cursing the loss of her magic as she caught a Potion of Green Dragon''s Breath thrown by Wilson before he slunk into the darkness to slyly switch places with his Doppelganger.


    Seeming to be unsure if to fight or flee, the drow watched anxiously while she drank and was subsequently staggered by the potion. The spiders were a different story, rushing to engage Ilar and Wilson''s Doppelganger with dripping fangs, unseeing the baby lich dipping down a corridor. They were not entirely useless, however. The spiders'' hisses and incessant chatterings broke them from their stupor and they withdrew magic items and mana-forged weapons in response. Meanwhile, Ryldin had returned. Hidden in the shadows, she attempted to bolster her body with arcane lightning, only to find the negative mana surging to correct the imbalance, thereby nullifying her spell before it could fully cast. Yet, she also felt some synergy with it, and so connected to the similarly eldritch energy implanted in her spirit by the Deeyalber Extract and opted for the same effect.


    The same sickly green lighting I spotted in Nergal''s domain and used when I fused electricity and death bolstered Ryldin''s body before she streaked across the cavern, impaling Nedxae through the kidney before releasing the pent-up bolt of necrotic lightning on Qilaeanna. However, in a display of drow reflexes, the arcane witch dodged out of the way and retreated without a care for her sister, giving way for the lesser drow and spiders to pounce on Ryldin. All the while, Wilson''s clone lazily threw necrotic bolts and clusters of umbral arms at them while the undead horde rushed in, for his eyes were waiting for Viconia to rush into the room.


    He formed a pit of darkness beneath her the moment she appeared, causing her to fall mid-step and descend past her ascending sister. Viconia engaged from the shadows in Ryldin''s place without delay, almost lusting after their souls while Ryldin, halted by the surprise, found the real Wilson Koorb rushing toward her with a sphere of black amethyst cradled in his gnarled and knotted hands.


    He planned to use his foray through the house to clean them of their magical items and drink some mutating potions to boot. With both items on his checklist complete, his armless, skeletal body had mutated to grow chitinous, barrel-shaped growths for arms, pocked and riddled with grenade-like growths up to the comically large shoulders, its pustules bulging and sloshing with viscous fluid produced by his mutated internals.


    While she was not privy to this, Ryldin seemed to intuitively know the gist of Wilson''s plan, given how she took the orb and immersed herself in darkness to allow Wilson to cover her. Well, Night did most of the work. Similar but dissimilar to his clone, the Baby Lich sat half-submerged in his shadow as if he were standing waist-deep in a lake. Arms poised at a high angle, he launched the bulbous warts on his mutated arms overhead where they were largely unnoticed or uncared for until they puffed, popped, and pooted noxious clouds of acid fog, mustard gas, agent orange, Phosogene, Zyklon B, and various other agents.


    Even with the drow convulsing, blistering, and suffocating amidst the cloud of war crimes, their spiders were unfazed - a problem Wilson seemed prepared for, as he pointed his arms skyward like artillery batteries and dispensed the pustules of white, cloudy, jelly-like fluid in his shoulders. The demon spiders were uncaring of the viscous rain falling on them; they were unknowing of the similar fluid spread throughout their house; until the baby lich reared back add roared.


    In a dilated frame of refrence, I watched the initial spark of Wilson''s red dragon''s breath catch the lingering traces of napalm on his mutated limbs, sending an infernal wave of sparks sweeping down every hall to scorch the walls black and bleach the ceilings white. The house was robbed of its oxygen in an instant, burned into an eldritch smoke that reverberated from the amplified bang of the detonation blowing the front edifice apart. From my perspective in the Arcane Tower, I saw a spontaneous cloud of dust and stone give way to a fiery eye, opening among the rest to glare contemptuously at the roaring Falls, only to be corrupted into the violet flames I grew up with as it licked the darkness within.


    As the Flames of Moil took root, Ryldin finished funneling darkness into her crystal and finally held it overhead, allowing the gloom within to pool around her until even I struggled to gaze within, for the crossing she opened to the Shadow Realm was occluded by the nightmarish creatures of my birthright pouring through.


    Shadow Hounds and other beasts of the undying night became a horde among the undead that dragged the burning spiders into the depths. Night walkers and other colossal giants stepped over the fray, pushing aside the undead to grab hold of the drow as a child would pick up a doll, only to reel back their arms and throw them into the Realm of Darkness, never to be seen again. Shades and other humanoid types reveled in the Flames of Moil, dancing and celebrating the birth of their new crossing into the Mortal Plane; silent though their revelry was.


    As quickly as the chaotic roar began, it faded into a gurgling breath as the umbral smoke poured from the blistered 3rd Eye. Its winds flowed across the Falls, shifting the inhabitants'' gaze to the forefront of the eyes above where they would remain until Zimysta''s Fall; as demanded by the haunting whispers of my noxious night.

 409 - War Horse

    "I am to be your God of Spellcraft." Eban mused, staring blankly at the creatures of darkness pouring from the fallen Eye. "Faenya has one already - a Goddess. Mystra is her name."


    "Your brother told me you''d be difficult." I sighed.


    "My brother." He huffed, dramatically rolling his eyes. "Why won''t you say his name?"


    "Because that''s the trigger." I grinned knowingly.


    "The trigger?" Eban huffed, sweeping his hand over what little he could see through the darkness. "One would think several triggers have been pulled already!"


    "Only pop shots." I snorted.


    The largest of those pop shots was the fall of Adin''agh, days ago. Now, countless slaves were spilled over the upper and lower parts of Zimysta. They rioted for days before tuckering out and scattering about the Falls for a place to hide from the ensuing chaos. Some managed to escape down the tunnels they''d worked, forsaking themselves to a cruel existence in the Darkworld''s wilds. Those who remained were encouraged by the beasts of twilight emerging to hunt the spiders that haunted them, appearing as a mob from the shadows to take up their arms once again, purposelessly so, until their savior arrived.


    For most of them, at least.


    Their riot ceased as the ground shook beneath them, bringing a light panic to the crowd once off-white shoots pushed apart the stone, rising to split and unfurl into domes around them. Domes that cracked and splintered, releasing Leary''s first goblin paragons in waves that appeared like spores from a distance. The rioter''s makeshift arms lowered in surprise while the fresh arrivals, standing taller and straighter than their goblin-kin, turned their zealous gazes upward to search the darkness for what I could clearly see.


    Leary descended to the fallen guild house atop his bone-armored, skeletal dire-cheetah, Sausage, uplifting a cloud of dust as he reduced its remnants to rubble. Saying nothing, he trotted down, scanning the crowd for prospective minions as it parted for him. His first paragons trailed after him but avoided stepping where he''d been, for my Horseman of War was that great in their eyes. The rest of their goblin-kin followed, forming branching wings to either side of him as if they were unworthy of stepping near the same ground graced with his feet.


    Humans, elves, orcs, and other liberated slaves stood to the sidelines as Leary reached the front of the mob and turned to address them with just three words, buttered in ways that made the Falls themselves hear. "I am Leary."


    The words released an unseen wave of Leary''s divine mana. All they felt was an unyielding urge to kneel, and they abided, lowering their gazes to the floor while their haunched backs straightened and their limbs shifted to better proportions. They couldn''t even feel their genes shifting in real-time, yet they knew of their new stations as the first goblin paragons of Leary''s empire.


    One goblin of a few decades knelt lower as Leary dismounted, stepping forth to stand among his kind. "G- God Emperor." He began, refusing to even look at Leary''s feet. "What do you ask of us?"


    "War," was his only reply, resting his palm on the goblin''s shoulder to allow his other powers to take root.


    The perks of Leary''s Barbaric Fighter Class were peculiar. On one hand, he was a Scourge Barbarian; His service to the heinous entity that was me augmented his barbarism with warlock abilities. Namely, he could make pacts and cast a few eldritch spells. On the other hand, he was a Battle Fiend - a Fighter whose service to the evil deity that was the Owl granted him superpowered agility, dexterity, strength, and constitution on top of being trained in martial techniques, tactics, and maneuvers unable to be performed by virtually anyone else due to his augmented skeleton. Combined as they were, those perks activated with Leary''s rage, tainting it with auras to amplify the physical prowess of those who made pacts with him or otherwise served him; creating the legendary class, Super Villain. And so, by joining Leary''s Empire - by making the pact, they became his first Minions, each with a suite of superpowered abilities based on rank, occupation, and position.


    "Thrive in this war, and you will become the first royals of my empire, the commanders of my army, or both. Fail; serve in death." With those words, nearly every color of the rainbow shone from Leary''s spine as he poured mana through it. First were the three cervical vertebrae, which billowed and bloomed beneath his scalp before rupturing his skin. The first formed a goblin''s cowl, the ones with the long tails and a rim that sat just before his bat-like ears poking through the bone. The second one morphed around his face, sealing him in a skeletal mask of fangs and wicked eyes while the third cascaded down the rest of his body, pushing scales out of his skin to wreath him in armor; adamantine armor, infused with my father''s Bone Mana.


    Something similar happened to the goblins as they moved. The domes and spires that delivered those from the tower started splitting and cracking more, releasing swathes of dust to fall onto the sweaty brows of the churning mob and congeal into helmets, armor, weapons, and equipment. Naturally, the scouts went first. Utilizing the barbed claws of their gauntlets and boots, they skittered and skated toward Zimysta''s 8th eye, searching for the drainage pipes or ventilation shafts on the outer rim, only to huddle around the razor-sharp webs blocking them as they tinkered with their newfound abilities.


    Those at the forefront took after an experimental young goblin who shrank his skull to elongate his body and limbs to comical sizes. In their zeal, they barreled through their entry points and came out the other side as severed and calcified undead hands, heads, legs, and torsos. Those behind them rightly gazed upon the blue blood streaks strewn about the pipes with caution. Yet, upon tracing the hair-thin webs that would spell their doom, they advanced. They piggybacked off the first group by shrinking their skulls and went on to collapse their ribs into more streamlined, almost serpentine forms. Again, many fell, yet some emerged through the other side and spread out like smart roaches, moving in disorganized waves whilst ensuring to remain out of the faerie light. Even then, however, their orders were largely treated as an afterthought. Goblin slaves were passed by several of Leary''s minions, searching to fill their pockets with treasures and trinkets. Others attempted to hunt down the drow who''d dominated them for so long, only to meet a swift but unmerciful end by either the drow or their spiders. Yet a few of them glowed.


    One was the goblin who spoke up before, a lad named Geogz. He commanded with the cruel effectiveness born from a life in servitude turned around, using the threat of a clenched fist to spread his ranged troops around the eye to cover those scouring the face, setting mana-packed skulls in weak points while his infantry pushed up to relieve those inside of their scouting duties. As one would expect, such leadership was hardly efficient. The goblins were ambushed the moment they breached and scattered like roaches in the light, leaving those outside the wall clueless to the drow advancing on them. That mattered not, however, for the charges soon blew and the rest of Geogz''s forces advanced on House Jusztiir, rushing down any available route under the cover of bone-tipped arrows.


    With as many as there were, it was shocking to see them gone so fast. That was true for both me and the drow of the 8th Leg; House Everhiryn, who seemed conflicted between chasing the invaders, rallying the slaves against those entering the fray, or finding a means to escape the end of their house. While some chose the latter, the rest were caught between a rock and a hard place as the goblin tide swept in. Thrown by the ogres who''d joined the fray, a small contingent of hobgoblins engaged them first, using the shock of their bone armor and the deluge of their bodies to their advantage. One landed on top of a drow, impaling him with the spikes of his armor while the rest ganged up on the other two, slashing and lashing with a wild frenzy. More soon followed. Heavily wreathed in bone armor, they swept through the tide of humanoid slaves sent after them while demanding the countless goblin slaves in the distance fight for their God-Emperor, Leary.


    I pushed my senses deeper into the House as Leary''s will flowed into them, birthing a zeal that caused the slaves to question their masters for the first time in their lives. Soon after, the augured arms of badger-shaped bone hulks breached the ground and walls. The hobgoblins piloting them reeled back and screamed in the ecstasy of their newfound power, opening them to the blows of loyal orc slaves meant for the goblins who turned coat.


    The slaves funneled into the newly formed escape tunnels as quickly as the hobgoblins outpoured; both their hulking brutes and more, mounted atop bone-armored lizards and dusk rats. They smashed and bashed their way through in their scramble for glory and conquest, swinging their weapons with wild abandon as they moved to close off the tunnels and corridors from the drow in the distance; not to mention my sight. And so I looked over to the lesser House Everhiryn to see it under siege by the bearbugs. An attempted one, at least.


    Only a few teams could get the catapults, ballista, and battering rams functioning, the rest either battered against the walls with their steel weapons or stared dumbfounded at the other teams, searching for an attempt to move forward. Equal parts frustrated with their incompetence and lusting for battle, Leary clenched his fists, leaned back, and unleashed a blood-curdling roar as his spine bloomed. His hood of metallic bones collapsed as more bones lurched around his skull, forming a combat helmet with a devilish goblin mask straddled by serrated mandibles that clicked and clacked with the same wicked intensity as the four skeletal fingers clenched over and under his shoulders, unraveling into skeletal wings. Membranes of solid darkness formed between them, followed by a wreath of metallic scales pushing through his skin as his next two vertebrae flared; then he took flight.


    As he soared, the red-green energy of his villainous rage bled off of him like rain, falling onto and flowing into his subjects. Their bone armor and weapons glowed with the lime green of Leary''s arcana while the pits of their eyes shone with his wrath; and an all-out war ensued. The bearbugs striking the wall broke through, opening the splash zone to the airborne contraptions thrown by the ogres in their fit of rage.


    As Leary dive-bombed the House, I turned my attention to the hobgoblin army overwhelming House Jusztiir with sheer numbers, compounded by the waves of liberated goblin-kin reemerging from the tunnels with maddened fervor. My eyes, however, remained focused on my Horsemen of War. He flew above the conflict on feathered wings of adamantine and bone, holding his hands palm up as if he were praying. But only wicked curses and wild screams poured from his mouth, seeming to fuel the blade mana infused into his fingertips.


    Adamantine fingernails rapidly rained down the corridor like suppressed auto-cannon fire, felling countless slaves and countless more as the drow wove the ambient arcana into dense domes to deflect the projectiles and counter them with constellations of projected slices. Although their shields cracked under the barrage, Leary''s strafing run left more than enough time for them to recover and weave some countermeasures into place before he banked around. Unbeknownst to them, however, Leary had more up his sleeves.


    Tucking in his wings, his 2nd thoracic vertebra drank the light before it pulsed, ejecting an umbral tendril that whipped from his back to engross a statue and pull taught as Leary whipped around, to be released on a return trajectory. And yet, he wasn''t done. Leary''s umbral tendrils undulated forth and whipped against the air, spinning the aberrant arms around each other until they formed a fat spear poised over his head. His 3rd and 4th thoracic vertebra flared next, the former billowing into a dense skin of augmented bone that wreathed his spear with deadly intent while the latter pushed more scales through his skin, wreathing him in an armored hide.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    As I experienced with Wilson before, cursed mana flowed from my spirit as I surveyed Leary''s battlefield. Unlike Wilson, however, Leary was a fighter first, trained to be the most attuned to my wickedness. Thus, he needed no orders or assistance, for his faith made him follow such paths seamlessly.


    My wickedness synergized with Leary''s just before his great bone spear impaled the midst of the fray; and the ambient darkness responded, congealing around the point of impact to catch him in an amorphous stone membrane that dipped down like a bowling ball on a trampoline. Only his spear punched through the net of dark stone, releasing the tension to make the ground comically dip and undulate before shattering in a catastrophic mess, flinging the enemy into the field of smaller bone-adamantine spears rising from every shadow in sight to occlude the light itself.


    They impaled, skewered, and slayed many; mostly slaves sent into the meat grinder. The tendrils packed inside the spears took care of the rest when Leary forced them to balloon and pop, flinging Leary''s adamantine bone shrapnel in every direction, as if a belt of oversized frag grenades had been scattered across the House. Limbs were blown off and heads were vaporized, reduced to a pink mist amongst failing mana shields and arcane armor. Yet the shrapnel continued on, spreading like a disease that chased the enemy as they ran for cover, calcifying all it touched into sleek black bone; except for the goblins. The goblins who''d been smacked by the umbral globules felt no pain, only a comforting cold that morphed into cowls, greaves, chain mail, and gauntlets; as was the case for the goblins splintered by Leary''s spears. The shrapnel dug into their skin and surfaced in their jaws, fingers, and toes to form metallic fangs and claws.


    Relishing in their newfound power, Leary''s first army turned their collective sights on their only remaining foes: Demon Spiders. The spiders, however, were after their God-Emperor. Sensing a devil''s darkness, they had leaped into the air before Leary''s attack, only landing once the subsequent destruction had passed. Their waxy chitinous flesh allowed them to ignore the raining shrapnel, with it staggering but bouncing off of them or detaching impaled masses of goo that was quickly replaced.


    Two, 3-meter spiders were on his sides before he recovered, lunging to crunch their mandibles around his right leg and left arm, dig their legs into the ground, and pull to expose him to the wrath of a 5-meter spider. Its massive legs stomped and stabbed at Leary''s armor while countless smaller spiders swarmed him, biting at his weak points and encasing his limbs in their waxy, flammable webs; unknowingly aiding their demise.


    Leary began cackling as the Volterum in his ribs began to glow a dull red gleam through his armor. Simultaneously, his spirit began to glow as the ''adrenal heart'' that managed his rage began to pump a wicked chemical concoction through his body. As his laughs became more frenzied, and heat radiated from his form, more of his accursedly blessed arcana flowed from him to his minions scattered about, expanding their minds with orders and ideas while their frames were molded further according to their roles.


    Even through a forced evolution, they did not falter; instead, scattering like goblins in fright. Only this time, with purpose.


    The Runners and Tellers, as they were called, retreated the fastest. Using their smaller, agile bodies and natural claws, they snaked through the masses toward Leary''s Dragonimp and the support forces gathered outside; the former to scatter about the staged resources while the latter to direct the Boomers, Soldiers, Gurus, and Pilots trailing them. Other Minion castes like the Kings, Nobles, Orators, and Engines remained behind, commanding, leading, and relaying orders to evacuate while bone plates as hard as steel were woven over the House''s inner walls.


    Their numbers were such that the corridors were sealed off and the House was isolated from its lesser counterpart in less than ten minutes. More importantly, the non-goblin slaves thrown into the slaughter had nowhere to go and nothing to do other than submit themselves to the spiders and swarm forth to bleed this heretical goblin dry. Thus, they were eager to deliver the House''s final blow.


    Their eagerness was rewarded with cackling screams and dwarven-sized kegs, barrels, and canisters of bone they heaved onto their backs, saddles, and packs before turning tail, scrambling up the tunnels from which they came to puncture their cargo and leak its contents amidst the house. Then, matches, torches, or even their makeshift weapons were scraped against the ground, and for the first time in history, House Jusztiir of Zimysta Falls saw the light.


    The fires of Leary''s bone-based fuel blinded and seared the House white. Spiders and drow alike reeled in pain, flinging arcana in every form at the torturous energy while their slaves pressed forward, ever fearful of their overlords. The thick aberrant smoke filling the cavern was almost alive, given the way it churned and roiled; almost as if it was drawn and pulled by Leary''s minions, yet made to go wild by Leary losing himself to his rage.


    I tuned out his ear-piercing threats as his arcana flowed into his arm, still clamped in the demon-spider''s fangs, and watched the augmented bone of Leary''s fingertips pierce through his skin, doubling his finger length with cruelly serrated blades that sank into the spider''s chelicerae with little resistance. The severed venom duct within hissed like a steam whistle as the monstrosity released Leary and stomped on him, but he paid it no mind. More arcana rippled down his spine and the spider''s segmented leg seemed to impale him as a spider''s leg of metallic bone ejected from his back to stab into the ground.


    The stone crunched and cracked beneath Leary''s support as three more legs erupted from his spine, arcing around his shoulders and ribs to lunge toward the spider with haste. The first leg deflected off the spider''s, yet it was merely the second leg''s shadow, arcing overheard to pierce the spider through its hate-filled eye, leaving it open to the third leg rising from below to reopen its scarred chelicerae. The first leg followed suit, rushing on its original path to stab the spider''s remaining chelicerae. All three legs splintered like crushed beams once embedded, giving the frenzied goblin an anchor on which to pull himself free of the 5-meter spider munching on his foot. Claws reared behind him, Leary launched at a blur, and yet a faster blur came from the foot-munching spider, twerking its spinner toward Leary and firing away.


    He howled as the waxy webs halted his momentum and reversed it as the spider turned, swinging him through slaves and stalagmite balconies before flinging him across the room as if he was shot out of a catapult. Tumbling and howling, Leary lost himself in his frenzy and became drunk on his faith as he fell deeper into his wrathful pit. He slammed into the wall like a cannonball and then started laughing, uncaring of the boulders falling onto him or the arcane bolts arcing toward him. His voice became rattled and giddy as the waxy webs covering him ignited, making the bone encasing him glow a shade darker than his vibrant yellow ribs as the flames caught the combustable smoke of his bone-based fuel.


    Walking with Leary in spirit, I watched the fires spawn in slow motion. Even then, the sparks raced among the lingering gray particulates in the smoke and expanded into a great ball of fire, pancaking the air into a deadly wave that pulverized bones, vaporized flesh, and flung whatever remained toward the inner shell of calcified stone Leary''s minions cast over the House. As it rebounded, however, a star shone amidst the chaos.


    Glowing from the blue of his Volterum ribs, the Super Villain awoke with a bloodcurdling scream that made the previous explosion seem like a whisper. His arcana rippled down his frame as the empowered sound waves banged at the walls, activating all three of his lumbar vertebrae.


    The lowest lashed out from his spine first, spreading silk threads as strong as adamantine among the stone, slaves, and spiders as he pounced. The second swept over his body, growing cruel spikes over his form before he put his bladed fingers, mandibles, and clawed feet into a frenzied dance. He was thrown around as the demon spiders and more powerful drow fought back, but the rubber mana infusions to his 1st lumbar vertebra saw his body compress and coil like a spring before bouncing back at twice the speed to sever or outright bullrush through their defenses. Weaker drow, smaller spiders, and the helpless slaves caught by the metallic silk trailing him, slicing into the enemy and dicing what remained of the environment until all that was attached to the webs were mangled flesh and stone chunks.


    Witnessing his efforts, Leary''s minions seemed conflicted between following their orders and following the urge to fight for their God-Emperor. The slaves and lesser drow, on the other hand, were showing a tenacity I didn''t expect of them; born from the fear of punishment and the promise of death for the former and the refusal to be defeated by a lesser creature for the latter, I assumed. At any rate, such things were beyond their purview, for I alone would judge these souls in life and death; and Leary''s familiar ensured they would witness such a defeat.


    Dinky, the Dragonimp, skittered up the walls like Cononthoth would, melding with the darkness until he poked his little head out to pierce the air with a grating, warbling roar that belied his size entirely. The spiders reeled, the drow arced their bodies in pain while the slaves clenched and clawed at their ears until they bled. The Minions cheered amidst their pain. I grinned as my wicked mana highlighted the most tactical path. Leary, as always, cackled.


    Frenzied off the high of his fully charged Volterum ribs, Leary''s spider legs trudged forward with haste, impaling two human slaves before he shot forward like a gunshot, reducing those in his path to a pink mist as he skittered, slid, and spun beneath the large demon spider. The two smaller spiders appeared below and on top of the foul thing a moment later and screeched at the goblin paragon, pushing his glowing chest out as if to taunt them.


    They launched simultaneously, albeit in different ways. The one beneath hissed something foul, prompting a nearby drow to launch a fire bolt while the larger spider twerked its ass toward Leary to spew its webs. The one up top then leaped like the jumping spider still in my hair; rocketing at an off angle towards Leary with its dripping fangs extended forward, crossed like drow scimitars.


    The webs hit the airborne spider''s underside, giving it the lift it needed to close the distance while the fire bolt slammed into its side, igniting its chitinous flesh and putting it on course for Leary. The second spider surged beneath the belly of its larger brethren the moment it ignited, hissing its demands to the drow and their slaves to swarm behind the flaming spider. Then the Darkworld turned white.


    The beam ejected from Leary''s sternum, seared retinas and stone alike, before the ensuing shockwave could fully form. As I watched it propagate at a crawl, the radiant spear barreled forward, punching through all three spiders before expanding into a colossal pipe that pushed their remains apart and pressed on to vaporize everything standing between Leary and the far wall. The shockwave blasted the blinded faces and armored frames carried forward by their momentum into a wall of viscera that dispersed into a pink mist and onto char and ash as the recoil pushed Leary back. Yet he maintained. Digging in his heels, he leaned back and let out a frenzied roar, raking the beam across House Jusztiir''s ceiling until his feet left the ground and the recoil slammed him through the floor. Yet each meter Leary was pushed down was matched a kilometer by his beam, barreling through the Dark Sky in an attempt to breach the Underground.


    Of course, not even that much power could bore through a quarter million kilometers of bedrock. But it did dislodge several mountains'' worth of stone to fall like rain through the remaining clouds of bone gas spread by Leary''s minions, forming the pitter-patter of rocky rain that signaled the end of both this battle and this ancient house.


    While loosed stone smashed into the few survivors, the bone gas awaited the wickedness of Leary''s voice, calling to the dead to "Kneel," wherein it surged.


    It swept among the splintered bones and calcified stone, stripping them bare before attacking the dead en masse. The eldritch smoke seeped into their eyes and mouths, seeming to poison and corrupt their flesh into black, bubbling heaps. As if attracted to it, the floating bits of bone in the air began flowing, aggregating around the bubbling corpses to harden into segmented plates resembling crude goblin forms, no matter if the skeletons they wreathed once belonged to human, dwarf, or elf.


    They set to work at once, picking apart the stone to remake the fallen house in Leary''s image while his minions returned from their point of retreat to scour the remains for loot. The relative calm pushed the slaves left behind from the furthest reaches of the house, giving them front-row seats of the rocks being pushed apart by a thin bone spire before it split at the base, allowing the man-sized goblin to step out and survey the destruction he''d created.


    In the end, while Leary''s abilities gave his minions power and knowledge, they were still uneducated, undisciplined, and untrained. Thus, against the drow house with the most surface raids and the most slaves, their losses were around 60%. Conversely, while half of their slaves died, and the rest were soon liberated, only the lesser members of House Everhiryn fell. The sons of House Jusztiir had joined with the rest of Nydorden Halls'' monks and their clerical daughters were hiding in G''eldantaar with their mother and the rest of Lilith''s clergy. Being only one battle long, it was a brief war, Leary''s first; a pyrrhic victory, were he not a necromancer.


    Unlike his next war.

 410 - Arion Assimilators

    Z''rynda Hun''ana.


    9th of Sextrand, 1492.


    Mii''etus Praesyris.


    23:41


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    ¡ª


    I awoke in an utterly alien environment. Metal and ceramics coated the walls instead of stone, lined with copper conduits and glass bulbs that splayed a red hue onto the visages of my sister, brothers, and¡­ former slaves, staring at me or pointedly looking away at nothing.


    I could feel my eyes thrumming as illusory words and pictures highlighted their every feature, listing their coinciding emotions. Embarrassment. Anger. Awe. Shame. More so, I saw flickering lights in the blues of their eyes and the coinciding illusions describing their meaning in grand detail. I looked down and saw I was practically nude but hardly cared, for what I sensed felt different. Distant, almost. I flexed my hands, knowing they''d been changed inside and out despite looking and feeling the same, and so I closed my eyes, inhaling a deep breath to feel more air and power enter my lungs than ever before. Then, my senses truly opened.


    The divinity pouring off my deities was like pulsing points of light, and I could feel their radiance blissfully. Iris, Leary, and the Eternal God-Emperor, Amun, shone like grand stars in an infinite expanse of darkness. As their light flowed over me, visions of exotic realms and grand machinations I still struggled to comprehend passed through my mind before the feeling regressed with my opening eyes, bringing back the descriptive illusions; this time focused around the machinations in their weapons and gear. And more, in the weapons and gear around us.


    I could¡­ feel them; sense them as I would mana; but also¡­ speak with them, in a way. I could hear them, at least; begging and pleading to become greater - to become one. But no matter how much I tried, I could not respond. Not without a¡­ connection. Turning to the loudest things brought me to my old robe, armor, staff, and mace. On instinct alone, I reached for them. Not to put them on, but simply to¡­ connect with them.


    The result was most peculiar.


    The mana flowing through those inanimate things synergized with the mana in my spirit. It merged at the point of contact, forming a matted web of silvery-blue mycelium beneath my finger before spreading through the fibers and metal like a living entity, infecting or engulfing them until all that was left was a thick pile of the strange material, then it reversed. Far faster than it formed, the mithral mycelium flowed up my arm to cascade down my form and morph into the flowing shapes and plates of my gear while my thrumming eyes told me every detail of the armor; how it was remade, its strengths and weaknesses, and how it could be improved more than it already was.


    As I saw within my genes, the basic design of my robes was reserved while the worst aspects were cast aside and replaced with something better. Those foul demonic webs woven between the robe''s mithral and faerie flax threads were redesigned with the webs of the God Emperor''s spiders and reinforced with hairs from the Arion - the divine horse of the Tech Goddess'' pantheon. The jewelry and trinkets of amethyst, opal, and pearl that once displayed my station were now embedded in my skin as much as my clothes, granting me spells and abilities of flight, stone swimming, spider climbing, disguises, and invisibility; all in the instant it took the web of mycelium to form and crumble to dust. Consequently, my hand crossbows were redesigned into bracers that held no bow or string; only a rail to fire a bolt of energy pulled from my very spirit. My whip was integrated into my spine, enabling me to stretch and unnaturally curl every part of my body while keeping the tool as an extendable and detachable tail. And my scimitars, which I''ve trained with every day, were upgraded into ergonomic handles that projected curved blades of solid deep blue energy¡ªtools I - we would need to destroy House Hun''ana and reconstruct it into House Arion.


    ***


    Amun.


    ***


    While I was curious to see how Iris would handle her first war on the Mortal Plane, she wasn''t the center of my focus when it shifted to House Hun''ana. She had warred against me in Eotrom just as I had warred against Grandpa Lich in Odissi, after all, and the same was true for her companions; both the homebodies in the Cuttleship and those in her adventuring party. In that way, I knew what to expect. However, there were new augmented beings among them, and one had more potential than even Iris; albeit in a dissimilar way.


    The drow paragons in Iris'' cohort had their skeletons augmented with Iris'' mycelial mithral and their organs had been restructured with arcane crystals, turning them into MycoMithral Drow. That opened the door for their Assimilation Sorcery to develop from their blessing of Technomancy; a cousin of Ed''s Integration. Like any augmented being, they rebooted with pre-programmed software meant to assist them in various tasks, including the development of their classes. Z''ress, however, had something no other augmented being would possess - a training protocol.


    Specifically, the NVG Training Protocol.


    So it was, I kept a close eye on her as she and Iris moved to their staging point, feeling a little invasive as my senses melded with hers and her thoughts began whispering in my mind. Like I was, she and Iris were using the Net to watch their archmage, Gaheris Rainer spring, from a corner to bury his knife in the neck of a dwarven slave, palm his mouth, and drag him into the shadows, giving her a small sense of satisfaction before it was drowned by embarrassed shame, then resolution once her path was set before her.


    Through Gaheris'' eyes, she watched every detail of the dwarf''s visage be analyzed before the young elf''s frame started shifting, shrinking and popping as the signs of a thick bushy beard peered through his field of view. Even then, Gaheris never slowed, withdrawing something similar to an aerosol can and depressing the nozzle with controlled sweeps over the corpse. Through her own eyes, Z''ress could see a thick mist of darkness spray from the can, occluding the dwarf entirely, only for a nearly transparent silhouette of the dwarf detach from the body and turn its glazed eyes about.


    Spreading her hands, palm up, she summoned the slightest hint of my divine mana and sent it toward the dwarven soul before lifting her finger, guiding the dwarven soul not to my divine realm, but to Iris'' soul banks. As for the body, it sank through one shadow and fell from another in an abandoned mining tunnel directly above House Hun''ana. It was filled with the discarded scraps of the dead and carpeted with metallic dust; spores of the augmented variety; Daulery''s family.


    Upon rebooting as Mycodroids, they fell back into their old niche by dispersing into countless spores amidst the Falls. Yet, like their biological counterparts, few spores could connect their two genetic halves in a suitable location. And House Daulery remained dormant, waiting for their spores to be carried into their new domain. With the fall of the towers, the slave guild, and two of the eight eyes, that had changed, and so their catalyst was deposited before them. Mountains of discarded weapons and armor were taken by the darkness and claimed by the ensuing mycelial network, forming a conduit, or rather, a nexus, within the tunnel.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Much like my growing pool of draconic twilight, House Daulery''s network had since colonized House Hun''ana''s surroundings, where it had been probing and analyzing the superstructure, waiting for Iris'' team to conquer their new domain.


    "You are in the central annex." Z''ress'' serene voice drew me back to her senses and thus pushed me through Gaheris'' point of view. He was amidst countless slaves; mostly dwarves pulling hand carts to and from various alcoves carved into the stone, where drow slaves were selling a myriad of trinkets and wares made by their slaves. "There is a residential wing in each upper corner." She continued. "The mines are opposite the main entrance, with the Matron''s primary wing above it. It holds her temple to the spider, along with a tunnel leading directly to G''eldantaar. Be wary of reinforcements."


    Maps and orders littered her field of view the moment her words were spent. The automated processes of her enhanced mind latched onto them instantly, taking milliseconds to analyze their contents and compare where the others were meant to go and do as opposed to her, only to throw a solution of dissatisfaction back at her stream of thought. Gaheris was to delve deeper into the mines and breach the compacted stone for the Mycodroids, allowing them to colonize the space and reinforce their numbers. Deeke, Erja, Margo, and Kane were taking the residential wings. Aqsa was to hold down the central annex. Meanwhile, Z''ress and her siblings were not meant to take part in the battle of their old house. Or rather, they were not permitted to taint their souls by killing kin. And so, they were tasked with conquering the lesser House of Talaste''ven Hun''ep; the 5th Leg of Zimysta.


    She buried her feelings beneath a mountain of data as they met Kane at their rally point a few hundred meters away from the House. He was the most grizzled gnome she and I had ever seen. His opaque monocle, gray imperial mustache, goatee, and denim vest made him look as if he was of the garden variety as he waddled towards her, four hefty adamantine crates filled with gadgets slithering on umbral tendrils behind him.


    Trusting the analytics powering her eyes, Z''ress reached for her trove without delay, followed by her sister and brothers. In his eagerness, Kane backpedaled to watch the assimilation process with a keen eye. Yet it was just as unceremoniously efficient as before. A thick carpet of silvery-blue mycelium spread throughout the boxes and their umbral arms before colonizing its contents and glowing brightly. Then they regressed, cascading into their fingers to spread the matter and information to different parts of their bodies; with their crates, atop them; with their new holy symbols, within them.


    Pious as they were, the thick blue rings Iris'' followers prayed to were assimilated into their sternums amidst the reformatted adamantine and umbral tendrils; becoming metal-weave robes, organic-looking armor, and bracers, along with a quarterstaff for Z''rynda, Z''rret, and Z''benna, respectively. As for Z''ress, the MycoMithral guided those things to her spine to sprout sweeping skeletal wings of adamantine, wreathed in the umbral-bladed feathers of a Valkyrie.


    Zed Legion''s Valkyrie.


    "These are not to be integrated." Kane waddled forth with a handful of rods. Blue, circuit-lined wise rocks, contained in a metal and glass sphere, were held in a claw at the end, primed with mana and instructions but no matter. "Not with you, anyway." He chortled to himself as he transferred the devices, and with it came the relative data regarding the so-called Lairnades; or Lair Stone Grenades.


    Kane''s gadgets, along with the understanding of her orders, birthed a deep sense of resolve within Z''ress. She cast aside her distractions and outright deleted her disdain for her orders, for what she would soon gain would be far greater. And so she darted after Iris with the gnomish rogue artificer trailing them. The blue-limned edifice of House Hun''ana loomed before them moments later, as did Deeke, Aqsa, Erja, and Margo; all flicking their glowing yellow eyes across the surface and paying no outward attention to Iris as she unhooked her earring.


    As she held it in her palm, her belt of metallic leather unraveled itself into a Simian-like tail, its end glowing a brighter blue as it slowed its snaking and slithering, eventually pulsing to release a cascading wave of what appeared to be flipping scales down from the tip, widening the tail into a flat serrated blade reminiscent of a pangolin''s. She increased a bit in height as the wave continued down to her legs, birthing an opposable thumb on the inside of her heels that curled into hoof-like fists as she adjusted her weight. Similarly, her size and mass increased as the cascade flowed over her torso and head to form avian wings and a faceless helm. Simultaneously, the relatively tiny earring in her palm glowed as the size mana enchantment deactivated; and rather comically, Gamp Daedalus grew into existence in the palm of her hand.


    The canvas-less parasol''s blades were configured into a lance as she held it upward, making it appear like a comically large arrow until the point split and lowered into three prongs surrounding the inner blade; much like an antenna. A squeeze was all it took for Iris to transmit the blueprints of countless technologies she developed throughout her seven years in heaven. The data stream - her prayer to me - saw the three prongs spin soundlessly, rotating faster and faster until a pure blue light shone from its blades; and faster still until it seemed as if it was becoming unstable, wherein it suddenly ratcheted to a halt with a satisfactory ping.


    As her plague-invoking prayer of a ping echoed across the Falls, a wave of Iris''s divine blue light swept toward House Hun''ana, giving chase. In turn, a tangled mess of crimson energy poured from the remaining Eyes and G''eldantaar above, manifesting in my eyes as a webbed wave that limited the flow of Iris'' energy to a single point on the lower Eye. Responding in kind, Iris opened her arcane well, dumping it through her molecular magic and Technecromancy cores to send a fused spear of the broken energy chasing after her clerical spell. The latter barreled through the front face like a boulder thrown by a giant, dislodging and unsettling the dwarven-compacted stone before the meters-long spear of blue-black arcana slammed home.


    The effect of Iris'' divine plague spread to the gates, levers, firing platforms, and other machinations as the stone dipped and buckled like a rock thrown in a pond. The entire Eye quaked in protest of the rippling of its hard surface; overshadowed by the genesis scream of something synthetic echoing from within. Blocks set in place for centuries pivoted out of at sharp angles as the energy swept over them and fell in on themselves once it had passed, seemingly with purpose given how they shifted away from the technological flora and fauna forming within, forming alcoves sealed behind the armored embrasures of a gaping throat opened to the House''s gullet.


    As predicted, an army of spiders poured from the wound. Foul, demonic, powerful spiders and the drow who accompanied them. They were met by the metals and gems inlaid into the shattered stone, dispersing to reform as a mat of metallic sunflowers. Their black petals turned toward the rushing enemy as they drank the ambient arcana, causing their radiant seeds to spit out a harsh blue-white light that revealed an army of scowling visages, stunned in place for the blue-leafed bonsai trees turning their angled trunks toward them.


    A wall of lightning, fire, and acid descended on their waxy, fleshy chitin or arcane shields, splattering or deflecting them onto the sea of slaves dragged into the fray. Even as the drow retreated to foolishly shroud the corridor in magical darkness, they were pushed forth beneath the spiders to their deaths, as many more were ready to take their place.


    For each that fell, the divine mana flowing from me to Z''ress made her feel twice as much. Her training protocol saw her seek the memories of those souls drifting above the fray; to witness them; to guide them. In the meantime, Z''rynda gathered the mana she''d been given in her hand and merged it with her arcana to form a shimmering greenish-black crystal she let fall gently to the battlefield.


    As it fell, two friendlies rushed toward the halted army, putting themselves on an intercept course for Z''rynda''s spell; mostly. It bounced off the ground a few steps away from Aqsa and Oliva and halted at its apex before it surged. The crystal doubled in size and then tripled upon shifting to a monolithic spire. Sparks of the same greenish-black energy cascaded over its surface as it began to spin, eventually forming a veil of a domain before it slammed into the ground and exploded to encompass the House''s outer yard.


    Aqsa Gould charged through the barrier first and staggered as the first of many bolts came whizzing through the opening. The Barbaric Artificer never swayed, however, instead using it as a point of rage while the latent green energy seeped into her broken skin to repair her wounds. Her breathing became labored with aggression as the bolts and spells increased in intensity and at last, she bellowed. The mana heart in her spirit began pumping its rage-inducing cocktail through her body, making her eyes glow redder than her titanium limbs as she charged on.


    With a laugh and a feral taunt, the Burning Armory lunged, trailing her right arm behind her as it seemed to melt from her heat and reform into a screaming chainsaw she brought down across House Hun''ana''s enslaved vanguard. Bodies parted as she slashed at the onrushing slaves with wild abandon, her right arm remaining trained ahead, palm open to fire beam after eldritch beam while her fingers danced lasers across the untouched edifice.


    Tucking one of Kane''s spell grenades in his arm like a baby, Oliva ran low under the cover of his Marshal while his sorcery spread in a wake behind him, pulling the streaming particles of disassembled weapons and armor around his arm to form a wedged shield he used to barrel through the line with gusto. More streaming particles swarmed him as Aqsa''s frenzy continued, congealing around his back to form spiked or bell-shaped nozzles that ejected his arcana like miniature rockets to push him forward once he slowed.


    With his faith in Iris and thus me, he paid no heed to his mana reserves and pushed through the line like a runaway speedboat, creating a rain of viscera and steel until the echoing bangs of the weaponized augmented flora rattled the Falls. Yet still, he continued. Down the corridor, through the fire and acid, Oliva charged, allowing the particles surrounding his left arm to lose their shape so that he could aim his right.


    Having complete trust in Kane''s work, Oliva didn''t watch the spell grenade rocket through the air as I did. His sorcery grabbed hold of his discarded particles and layered them atop his body, allowing the perks of his legendary class to meld them into a suit of armor thicker than any armor could hope to be. It was more of a Frankenstein''s monster of parts fit for a tank. Or rather, the Fighting Artificer, Tech Juggernaut. He moved behind Aqsa as the enemy met them, covering her frenzy with his sheer bulk for those intense moments before the spell bomb spun madly into the ceiling.


    A deep warble was the only sign before Z''ress, her siblings, and the rest of Iris'' party found themselves drifting in the face of an arcane shockwave, rippling down House Hun''ana''s ceiling to pour the orange-white glow of Iris'' rotational mana into the tiled floor. The ground began to quake as the glow rose to a high and the ceiling began to quiver, losing stones atop the disheveled drow faces before they lost their footing.


    Deeke, Erja, Margo, and Kane rushed forward as a singular unit, headed in opposing directions to the four wings of each corner while the great tilt began. Those who kept their balance naturally turned their sights toward the breached wall and watched the ground rise in pitch until that gaping hole was sealed beneath the floor, sealing the intruders within the House; confusion, horror, or glee written across their faces before they turned their eyes back to Aqsa and Oliva, unknowing of the others probing the wings or the disguised elf breaching the mines, now pitched overhead.


    Therein birthed pure chaos.

 411 - Mycodroids

    With the core of Iris''s plans complete, the ground of House Hun''ana''s central annex was inclined some 30 degrees, with the main entrance sealed beneath the floor and the mines at the base of this large hill some 300 meters away. The enemy was present in every direction and orientation, largely descending the walls like a living mudslide as they desperately fought to right themselves and slay their intruders in the same breath.


    Waxy webs encompassed the space in an instant, twanging and flexing beneath the force of the dwarven war machinations being dragged into key positions while everything from cranes to ballista-sized wands flung their quarrels indiscriminately into the fray. Largely ignoring the masses, Z''ress, Z''rynda, and Iris remained in the cavern''s center, guiding souls, spreading healing domains for Aqsa and Oliva, and latching on to her mana spread throughout the Central Annex, respectively. Unlike with the spell she cast before, Iris pooled her divine mana into the point of her spear and held it aloft while a stream of data radiated soundlessly from her mind, activating the powers of her prayer that birthed the blue light of augmented life.


    The divine light of a Clerical Druid shone on the masses like the heat of a cruel sun, burning away channels in the beetle-like mining constructs crowded in the back. They skittered and spasmed as her circuitry spread across their bodies, shifting materials and energy to form systems of self-regulation that often crushed the dwarves piloting them. If not, they were crushed as the beetles rushed to gorge themselves on the scattered ore or turned their drill-like horns on the spiders.


    Witnessing their clash saw Z''rynda tap into her connection with Iris and lob another spell, with this one being thrown much faster, and aimed at the drow and spiders skittering up the walls and ceiling to flank them. Even then, it arced through the air like a grenade fired from a launcher, landing between their formation to release a domain of vibrant blue-purple energy that spread and spread and spread to encompass the Central Annex as a whole. Rather than attack their manned machines, their raw materials and the things made from them were extracted and aggregated in the domain''s center; a process that went largely unnoticed by all, other than the faint hiss it produced. Until, one by one, those things once toiled for burst into dust.


    Stones, long-since shaped into buildings, fell in a matter of seconds, leaving metal frames and fungal-wooden interiors to rust and wither like the swords and armor wielded by their slaves. Not even the dwarven machines turned against them were safe, their fames decaying and reforming beneath the domain in ways that left them inoperable. Even then, however, the spiders did not stop and the drow hardly let up. Regardless, so many stunned slaves gave Aqsa the space she needed to release her Lairnade into the room''s dead center.


    A spire, much like Iris'' spear, erupted from the thing the moment its glass shattered against the ground, impaling the stone to raise three spinning prongs that glowed a bright blue until ratcheting to a halt with a loud ping.


    The ensuing blue wave attacked the house much more violently than before, as blue webs of mycelium spread to colonize the countless tapestries, statues, and trinkets created en masse by the slaves, reforming them into the exotic grasses, trees, and plants of Iris'' domain. The gaps they left in the stone were replaced with glowing conduits reminiscent of the circuitry on my arms as it spread to connect to doors, windows, levers, and every other device in reach; and like a star going supernova, the augmented beings felt their senses blossom.


    The moment the House''s machinations were transferred to Iris, the party split in dissimilar ways. Deeke, Erja, Margo, and Kane raced, sprinted, danced, and snaked toward the residential and slave wings while Iris barreled through the ceiling to enter the Matron''s wing, leaving the siblings to rush down the rear tunnels to the lesser House Hun''ep.


    Z''rret and Z''benna took point, with the former using his heavy armor and glaive to push back the defenders and the latter on the ceiling, unleashing his adamantine quarterstaff on the heads of those who failed to look up while Z''rynda''s domains did all manner of healing, decaying, and corrupting their surroundings. Still following her protocols, Z''ress held off on using her power until she reached House Hun''ep''s main industrial space. Then, like a feral dog jumping the fence, she tapped into the seed of divine mana given to her by Iris and released it indiscriminately.


    Again, a blue wave rippled across the voluminous compound, carving deep gashes in the alchemical plants, tanning facilities, furnaces, and warehouses to lay divine circuits in their frames. This time, however, those circuits drew in the carved stone, gems, and shaped metal meant to decorate this place and spread them through their new foundations. Within moments, their vats, basins, cauldrons, and pallets shifted and rotated in their holdings as they were pulled deeper into their frames and shrouded behind metallic maws and ceramic hides. Their operator''s stations became computing systems in the core of their frames; gems and metals accumulated on their faces and reformed into sensor arrays that looked down distastefully at the sprawling web of flesh surrounding them.


    The sight seemed to birth mechanical groans that rippled from their cores to their support columns and beams, increasing in pitch until a great crash signaled their decoupling, bringing countless eyes to witness the gargantuan arms and legs actuating to quake the ground with their first steps.


    Given arcane intelligence and self-regulation, those behemoths grew disgusted by the chemicals, tanning agents, molten metals, and resources filling their gullets; so they upturned them. A foul hiss echoed as the acidic compounds swept over the gathered masses, bubbling and roiling evermore from the magmatic concoction splattering the arcane shields, enchanted gear, and demonic chitin on its shores; until they too were swept by the tide. Even then, the drow, demon-spiders, and their slaves did not fall, and the Hun''ana siblings did not falter. Z''benna rushed to the middle of those industrial behemoths to implant the Lairnade while Z''rret covered him, zig-zagging between the spiders to smash their legs beneath his quarterstaff, supported from above by Z''rynda''s domains.


    Once the ping echoed, the wave left pockets of glowing blue mana that churned and roiled in place, producing a distinctive warbling sound as it dragged space along with it, eventually tearing the fabric of reality open to allow the recycling caste of Iris'' domain to warp through.


    Augmented bears and lions tore through the ranks of spiders and drow, uncaring of the spells bouncing harmlessly off of their synthetic hides as they sought to lap up the pools of volatile liquids before them. Hyenas, jackals, and wolves followed, their metallic fangs clashing against the swords and quarrels of the shocked enemy. They, and more like them, swarmed in ever-increasing numbers as the Lairnade redistributed House Hun''ep''s scattered infrastructure and materials, opposed at every angle by the enemy. Only a small minority reached the chemicals and molten metals they desperately sought. Yet the enemy was not what stopped them.


    The precious resources they sought were claimed by the MycoMithral web, making those beasts turn toward the last remaining materials in sight - those refined things worn by our enemies.


    The augmented foxes, lions, and wolves tore into the enemy with wild abandon, meeting their blades with steel-shattering teeth to leave drow and slaves alike armless. While some were cleaved by adamantine weapons, those were soon freed from drow hands by augmented rats and ravens boring through gloves and plucking weapons out of their hands to be pecked and integrated into their beaks and teeth. Ants and lizards attacked from below to disassemble boots and dismantle their brooches and jewelry while raccoons and vultures dove from above to prey on helms and holy symbols; and through it all, Z''rret and Z''benna raced, making light work of the disarmed enemy while Z''rynda''s buffs kept them healed and energized.


    Z''ress, however, was fighting a different battle.


    The seed of divinity given to her by me enabled her to see the ghostly visages peeling off the dead as I did. As I passed my eyes over them, squinting into the crimson webs descending to take them, she swung her hand of judgment, severing those webs to send their souls rocketing up to my heaven or plummeting down to my hell - my Underworld. Through it all, the Lairnade redistributed House Hun''ep''s stockpiles of material and, at last, was ready to fabricate.


    It came with no rise or warning. A silent wave radiated from the gadget, making the ancient murals and carvings lining the walls crumble into obscurity as the wave rose to the arched ceiling above and unveiled the smooth innards of a metallic shell. Shattered stalactites fell amidst dusty boulders and fell further as the floor crumbled beneath the scattered masses. Arteries and veins of flowing energy and matter were unveiled as the wave swept to either side, one toward the Falls to detach the structure from the spider''s body, the other chased by the Hun''ana siblings toward their dying home.


    The siblings stormed through the lesser house''s rear exit and pushed into House Hun''ana''s mines to find themselves in an unfamiliar environment. The cavern, tunnels, and mines were coated in a lumpy web of glowing silver-blue fibers occluded by a hailstorm of fire. Spells and quarrels rained from all directions and altitudes, largely pelting off the shields and hulking armor of Aqsa and Oliva while Gaheris darted around the background, shifting his form whenever he broke the line of sight to position himself for a long shot. Knowing no one who shared their blood was among the enemy, Z''rret and Z''benna rushed beneath the shroud of Z''rynda''s green-hued Repair Domain; again at different angles. Z''benna took up a defensive position between the two hulks and the augmented elf, using an arcane tower shield to deflect the endless rain so Gaheris could sustain covering fire for Z''rret on the hunt.


    The green field of latent energy healed more than the augmented beings, however. It provided much-needed energy to the silver-blue caps pinning atop the mycelial web. They positively radiated with pleasure, pulsing and glowing as they expanded into troops of mushrooms the size of bowling balls. Moreover, it flowed into the growing number of dwarven and deep gnome slaves who took the chance to fight for their freedom. The blue conduits flowed into their feet unnoticed, carrying with them repurposed materials to replace damaged flesh with synthetic skin, machine muscle, and false nerves. Prosthetic limbs grew from nubs that never knew they were maimed and struck back with twice the fervor.


    The sight made more slaves lift their eyes to the divine beings above them, throw their arms, and plead for salvation. Yet the prayers of orcs, ogres, elves, goblins, dwarves, gnomes, and humans alike fell silent to Iris'' senses, for she cared not about the plights of the flesh. And so, I walked in spirit amidst the field of the dying, watching the augmented herbivores warped in by Margo and Kane''s Lairnade stampede in from the slave annexes to add to the carnage.


    In several cases, I looked for piety and saw placements instead; potential, made by these present circumstances and the latent energies associated with them. Seeds that transcended loyalty, zeal, and even classes, and so I sowed them with the Undying Touch and germinated them with a bit of the ArcaTech''s essence, leaving the rest to be slain by Iris'' branch of life and delivered by Z''ress. Yet no amount of trampling could halt their fervor. No number of ruptured organs or shattered bones could break them. Even as a mangled mess of groaning flesh, they prayed to Iris and rejoiced as another answered.


    The ArcaTech''s essence seeped into the deepest parts of their flesh, rewriting their genes to those of paragons before the green energy of Z''rynda''s domain could flow into them. Metals, leathers, cloth, ceramics, glass, gems, and in the dwarves'' case, the very stone was reduced to a molecular stream and pulled into their bodies to manufacture enhanced frames, and like a magnet, Iris'' divine mana was drawn to them.


    As if he anticipated it, Kane armed them with gadgets and they scattered to the winds, merging into the stampede of augmented herbivores to either reclaim what was lost or hunt those attempting to flee. Like the augmented beasts, they seemed to instinctively take heed to not disturb the growing mushrooms scattered throughout the mines, even as they gave their all against the spiders that would not falter and the drow who would not fall.


    Cut off from any escape, the enemy was like cornered dire rats, taking hold of the rich arcana to weave the deadliest spells imaginable. Yet even that would not save them. Unlike their scavenging cousins, the horses, cows, giraffes, goats, herbivorous insects, and other primary consumers looked upon the scattered biomass; wanting, for in them was the hydrogen and carbon they needed to synthesize Vehsipane. And so they swarmed, stampeded, and barreled through the crowd to lash at the enemy. Yet, the slaves did not yet falter; even while the enemy began to fall.


    They began to falter once the grating cacophony of an animated industrial park echoed from the tunnels at the far side of the room and melded with the neighs, moos, buzzing, and calls of the growing stampede. The annex was already packed with those unyielding beasts of metal and ceramic and those stone-sized caps growing from the mycelial web. Thus it became outright claustrophobic once Margo barged in, preceding the energy waving off her Lairnade and the army of secondary consumers it spawned.


    The prey, feasting on the rich biomass of our enemy, skittered and flapped away at the first sight of their predators. Frogs the size of treasure chests bounded, crashing atop anything in their paths to eject their glowing guts into the fray, seeming to aim at the empty air, only to leave the bulbous belly suspended before him. The buzz it produced made the songbirds, waterfowl, rabbits, and lizards scatter just moments before the prey and the enemy''s equipment cascaded inward, pulled by magnetic fields that could rip apart cars.


    With the enemy caught between nature''s oldest game mixed with a mechanical stampede, Z''ress once again released a divine domain to guide the souls before the crimson webs could claim them. In turn, her divine mana''s natural effect reacted with the augmented flora blooming across the environment, not to Animate Machines as before, but to birth her flair of biomechanical creatures and weave the remainder into bridges leading to each of the claimed wings.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    The beasts surged to the bridges as the vibrant flora disintegrated, splitting to the four winds with purpose, only to scramble once Erja Rose emerged from the 2nd drow wing leading a stampede of tertiary consumers. A full-on frenzy ensued once the building-sized augmented spiders and scorpions emerged behind them, their fangs and stingers concentrating arcana into potent beams they fired at the enemy with lethal accuracy.


    The frenzy devolved into a riot when the Witch Artificer''s domain spread. As a Mech Doctor, her healing powers were focused on the augmented beasts, giving the prey the balls to stand up to their predators and stampede over the enemy to inhabit the wings they desperately sought to settle. As the battlefield cleared, Z''ress and thus I swept my eyes over the few remaining demon spiders standing against hers, freeing the space for the troops sprouting throughout the mines and her commanders racing through the remaining wings; feeling satisfaction but trepidation, for she knew the battle was not yet won. Thus, she lifted her gaze to the ceiling, just as it fell.


    Bang!


    Bang!


    A sudden plume of dust pulled my attention to the 1st drow wing before the ensuing boom pulled all eyes and ears to Matron Hun''ep''s eldest daughter, cartwheeling violently toward the ground.


    Arcana and webs flung from her hands as she attempted to right herself, seeming to panic as a loud bang signaled Deeke, Skipping with the Wind. He launched off the wing''s remnants and soared, flipping with much more grace to punch her down into the ground. He achieved the mount and looked down at her, his red optics glowing in contrast to the blue fires of ki compressing within a chamber in his core, where it mixed with a spray of his arcana and banged like an old engine, shooting his fist out like a piston.


    Bang!


    Bang!


    With punches rattling off like machine gun fire, the Machine Philosopher pummeled the matron''s daughter into a thick mash of gore and immediately craned his eyes to the ceiling. Three dozen proposals were analyzed and rejected before his settling drives could exhaust his final breath of ki, releasing a serpent''s hiss that seemed to call the tertiary consumers summoned by his Lairnade to heel.


    He was a good fit for Iris'' Executor. His lack of piousness birthed a rational concern for his commander, yielding a perspective that often opposed hers in the most constructive ways. Case in point, Deeke darted toward the mines, guiding a relatively small contingent of augmented predators toward their prey within Z''rynda''s domain. Some calculated lower odds of surviving the coming wave and thus fled, pursued by the weaker predators while the rest charged the line.


    The spiders caught between them were treated as an afterthought and seemed enraged by it, given how they sought to entwine every moving thing in their webs. The beasts cared not for that either, however, simply igniting the webs to free themselves and continue their fight for survival amidst the conflagration. They lashed out with fangs and claws to rend and tear the unfeeling bodies of Iris'' branch of life, only for those pieces to be consumed by some other beast and fabricated into explosive launchers, high-powered UV spotlights, coolant dispensers, or stronger claws within moments. Naturally, the same was half true for the augmented beasts led deeper into the mines by Deeke. Prey fell to their predators like those demonic beasts left maimed and scarred. Their body parts lay strewn about the environment, the divine materials comprising them being claimed by the silver-blue webs and the gray caps growing atop them; the catalyst, as it were.


    Across the floor, up the walls, and over the arched ceiling, the countless silver-gray caps began swelling atop their webs; expanding and contracting like lungs as they grew from the height of ankles, to knees, and on to hip height before their stalks hardened, darkening into a violet-slate shell with pulsing blue veins and danger-red eyes gleaming beneath their metallic caps.


    The sounds of fireworks banged against the House moments later, racing up and down and back again as each mushroom saw its stem crack down the seams and split down the middle, unfolding into thickly plated arms that shoved against the ground in defiance. The pops of their release from their mycelial web were echoed by the mighty thuds of their chitinous plated legs stomping down to fuel their maiden steps; Then, the Mycodroids charged.


    Datton, the 1st son of House Daulery, led the charge. Thousands of the same augmented being barreled through walls, spiders, and drow alike as he sought to spread his siblings among the unclaimed or more exotic resources hidden throughout the House, moving with the utmost haste and yet with no concern for the spells and projected slashes arcing his way. Half of them bounced harmlessly off the mithral chitin while the other often severed limbs, making them lighter on their feet. Datton didn''t care. Like his siblings and mother, his mind, spirit, and soul had been transferred to countless MycoMithral colonies. Then they linked them to form a quasi-hive mind, and with their web cast across House Hun''ana''s mines, they had the resources to mass produce new bodies. Yet, they still had their individuality. They still had their niches. And so, carried by the 1st son, they sought to spread once more.


    A contingent of Datton Mycodroids dove into the raging canal below and scaled the walls to the aqueducts above, carrying the aggregated clumps and pustules of his brother, Duaglez, and the 5th daughter, Drisidil, into the waters to be carried far and wide.


    The clumps and pustules dissolved or popped on contact with the drink, dispersing to be taken wherever the waters saw fit. Duaglez dispersed his yeast-like cells throughout the canal and began feeding on the water''s dissolved solids and gasses to begin budding. Small aggregations of cells grew into amorphous nuclei that breached the water with their semi-solid tendrils of augmented mithral. Formed into spears and spires, their tips fired concentrated beams at the infrastructure, shattering support beams and bringing down the aqueduct that carried his sister.


    Having spread her water-born slime molds throughout the aqueduct, Drisidil''s spores surfed atop the wave formed by her brother. They washed down the drains to infect the House''s waterways with rust, mineral buildup, and other infrastructural ''diseases,'' making the ground above them more unstable by the minute.


    Iris'' rising numbers shifted to an organized scramble as the metal plating buckled beneath their feet. They maneuvered through the crowd toward the conquered annexes and the lesser House Hun''ep, opening up the floor for the several dozen spiders and a hundred or so enemy drow remaining; evenly matched by the Mycodroids. With Datton scattering his siblings about, however, Dirzna''s amorphous forms were the obvious target. Fangs, webs, and blades impaled her, tore her apart, and sliced her to ribbons at the slightest contact, making them think the counterattack would come easy until they realized the violet-slate plasmodial clumps reaching toward the abandoned smelters.


    Dirzna''s mithral slime molds formed a pulsating heart in the smelter''s crucibles as it melded with the glowing embers. Their cauldrons were drawn out and pulled into the face, and their basins opened to the heart. Their foundations split and shifted into legs while their smoke stacks and supports became gas cooling systems and gimbals. Then they turned their bores on the spiders.


    Ingots of steel, copper, and other base metals fired from the constructions like colossal mini guns, tracing a line across the enemy ranks that reduced parts of it to red mist and black goo. Yet further down the line, the rapid fire bounced against arcane armor and the denser chitin of giant demon spiders. As the spiders moved behind the drow, focusing their power on their defenses, three squads of Datton''s Mycodroids took their symbiotic elder sisters and went for the flank. Armed with hand crossbows loaded with fluid-filled bolts, they fired with no apparent regard to their surroundings, attacking enemy drow, freshly evolved paragons, and friendlies alike before darting off to other prey.


    The liberated slaves who''d been struck fell to their knees in despair and watched the silvery-teal, almost metallic liquid bounce and writhe within the vials before entering their veins. Their eyes bore jealousy and betrayal as they gazed upon their companions soaking in Iris'' energy, their eyes glowing that beautiful blue as they evolved into augmented beings. Then their eyes opened. Gleaming with the same silver-teal light as the 2nd daughter, Dilyzina, their eyes shone brighter than those they previously envied and shouted in praise. Their tears carved rigid, angular channels and conduits down their visages as the many enhancements bestowed on them settled within their frames. And when Dilyzina''s voice echoed from the depths of their minds, her new hosts engaged the enemy with a new fervor, using their shared consciousness to develop into an organized swarm of superpowered beings.


    Conversely, the most distinguished slaves and the few drow who turned coat had been unknowingly infected with Driza''s commensalism; so enthralled in battle they were. So it was, they all paused once her voice echoed in their minds, opening their guards to the enemy before their senses and cognitive functions had time to bloom. Slashes, lashes, and bruises lined their bodies, yet healed by the time they were countered with stone-shattering punches, thunderous kicks, and chitin-breaking headbutts.


    By the time Driza began ordering them to command the rest, the enemy ranks were already falling apart. The enemy drow who''d been hit with the parasitic quarrels retreated beneath the spiders to withdraw the ''poison'' using arcane witchcraft, only to find none there. Confusion creased their faces before they began reeling, clutching their mouths in protest of the agonizing cracks echoing from their bodies, alibied by the splattering of blood and the tat-tat of teeth skipping across the stone.


    That alone was enough to break the weakest infected wills. Their hands fell back to reveal gaping metallic maws - lipless holes of grinding wheels and shredders - and broke into tears as they collapsed to their knees. Distorted sobs and warbled curses rang as their blades turned to their maws and stronger wills broke as they began rocking forward, head banging to Margo''s music to deep throat their blades and grind them down to the hilts. The sickly slick sounds of fingers and feet peeling around growing hooks and blades ascended in pitch as their blades were repurposed and their cries died to a whimper, and at last, their eyes flashed purple.


    The sole exception was Daulery''s youngest daughter, Dilisstra, who kept her few droids in a defensive line before her mother''s sole android; for she was the manager of their mycelial web; the headquarters commander of Iris'' Mycodroid Division.


    In the end, she was the one to keep Deeke from supporting Iris, for he had infinitely more to organize in the central annex; and, as dire as things seemed, Iris needed no assistance. Even against Matron Hun''ep.


    Like Matron Nydorden, she became incensed with the invasion of her House and sought to punish those who wronged her, abandoning whatever ritual they were undergoing to do so - an act I assumed would make her lose Lilith''s favor. To make matters worse for her, her youngest daughters were dragged down with her and were promptly taken care of by Deeke and Margo before they rendezvoused in the central annex, as planned. Above, however, the Matron proved far more challenging.


    Much like I experienced, Iris'' spells and arrows were easily countered or blocked by Matron Hun''ep''s arcane prowess. Her superior durability was put to the test against drow swordcraft, costing her three sets of arms and two pairs of legs; including her armored limbs besides the wings and talons she was so proud of. Technology, knowledge of the shifting terrain, and her unending stamina alone won the battle.


    Acknowledging the zealous bloodlust Matron Hun''ep had for her, Iris raced down a winding course through House Hun''ana''s upper annex, trampling on everything remotely suggestive of Lilith while firing shots in whatever direction suited her. Warbles constantly echoed from her arrows, releasing to warp to point-blank range and detonate, rocking the house with pools of hissing acid, the thunderous claps of lightning, and explosive quakes that seemed to never end. Yet even then, Matron Hun''ep was undeterred, grasping more and more arcana from the environment to defend herself.


    Just as Iris planned.


    Once they''d made a full loop and returned to their point of entry, Iris reversed the polarity of her mana and infused it into herself to make the spatial mana warble in reverse; warping not an object across space, but space across her.


    Inverted, with her momentum reversed, Iris thrust Gamp Daedalus through Matron Hun''ep''s defenses, crushing her arcane shield into a million fragments before it impaled her beneath the right collarbone. As her momentum pushed her deeper into the blades and was overtaken by Iris'', the latter focused her sorcery in her palm to materialize her arcana into a mass of circuits and components held within a fang-like dagger she stabbed into the Matron with no hesitation and all her power.


    The sheer strength was enough to shatter her other collarbone once the hilt slammed home, yet Iris stabbed again and again and again, attacking the neck and armpits before putting all her strength into a final abdominal stab.


    Upon coming to a rest in Matron Hun''ep''s diaphragm, the dagger''s sides split as it glowed blue and swung hooked barbs into her flesh to bury itself deeper. Then, even I was surprised to see arcana flowing from her arcana well to the dagger''s jeweled hilt, imbuing it with a deep blue glow as it radiated to the divine lair stone Iris held in her palm.


    I felt Matron Hun''ep''s mind open up to me as her life waned. The darkness was already around her, yet she focused a baleful eye on Iris, tossing her lair stone aside to settle into a low fighting stance. Her consciousness lapsed for an instant, and then she saw it - the fist of her doom, infused with a blue arcana of a much darker hue than she previously saw. Simultaneously, I watched the softball-sized lair stone fall as Iris infused her necromancy into her fist and punched the dagger''s hilt, boring it and her arm to the core of Matron Hun''ep''s chest before the transferring energy launched her soul from her body.


    As Z''ress moved to guide her soul, the augmented lair stone landed with an unceremonious splat, betraying the blue light it emitted and the divine circuitry it released. It carved its way through the House while masking the wicked stream going into the fallen Matron as if it had a mind of its own. Both reached for their surroundings, one to connect and the other to make a transfer.


    The dull blue of Iris'' necromancy crept across the fallen Matron''s body before turning black and shifting. Clumps of hair began to fall, followed by patches of skin and groups of muscle sloughing into the darkness and reforming in Reina''s Flesh Kitchen, leaving a blackened skeleton with the tech-dagger floating within the ribcage, clamped around her arcane well. Then, the bluer parts of Iris'' necromancy acted, disassembling the dagger and well to infuse the former into the bones and disperse the latter into a roiling cloud within the ribcage.


    The body managed to claim the matron''s robe, armor, weapons, jewels, and trinkets before the lair stone found its connection, and not a moment too soon. Following its pre-programmed instructions, the arcane intelligence behind the circuits ignored the surrounding tech and augmented beings in favor of those concentrated domains they spread around the house; and once they met, the House rebooted alongside the fallen Matron. Before they could take shape or light up their optics, however, Iris acted, releasing a torrent of arcana alongside the energies of the augmented tower in ways that turned every head in the Falls to Zimysta''s 5th Eye just in time to witness a miracle; or a curse.


    The Eye of House Hun''ana had opened to reveal a blue iris amidst a black sclera. It scanned the Falls menacingly, tracing its gaze from left to right before rolling its eye back and starting again, moving faster and faster until it dragged space itself behind it; churning and turning and roiling before it warbled and¡­ disappeared.


    The arcana, the tower''s energies, the glimmering edifice of the most industrious house; it was all gone, replaced with a dark, empty cavern several dozen kilometers in volume.


    We alone could see House Hun''ana''s fate; we and perhaps the Queen Demon Spider could gaze upon the sphere of Darkworld materials floating amidst the clouds above Shujen, basking in Mani''s light as the four annexes stretched and reformed into a thick plate around a hollow mountain, its bowled base blending seamlessly with the sky to shield mortal eyes from the augmented human standing atop the summit, raising her spear in triumph toward the stars above as it spun madly and ratcheted to a halt.


    Ping!


    The advent of Iris'' Domain to the Mortal Plane was heard by all, yet nary could find the source, even if they could feel the result of her evolution, for she dove as quickly as she ascended, twisting her arms as her warbling mana enveloped her form and warped her back to the Dark.


    The battle was won. But the war was not yet over.

 412 - Winter Spring

    "Well done!" I smiled down at Iris, curling up beside me to begin a recovery cycle. Then cast a look at Eban''s shocked visage before turning to look at the nightmarish darkness pouring from the 3rd Eye, the calcified stone covering the 8th Eye, and the gaping maw of the 5th Eye, feeling my name fill the thoughts and cross the minds of the countless bodies suffering within.


    I had judged them and would judge infinitely more, both on this day and in the days to come. Yet, I would still not heal unconditionally, thus their mortal wounds largely remained unhealed. The worthy crawled around in agony, their guts trailing behind them, their skin sunken from the lack of body fluids; skulls and torsos were missing chunks, their wounds becoming infected by the noxious fumes lingering in the air. And so they would remain until my Troupe or another found it in their hearts to heal them; or not. Moreover, I would make no more offers; at least in these Falls. Any who could not accept their death had to make offers to me or my troupe, lest they found a way to heal on their own. And so, acknowledging that thought, I flicked my roach over the balcony, then turned to see the shadows coalescing into lithe legs and slender arms of violet-slate skin attached to the body of a towering, well-endowed drow that stole all of Eban''s attention.


    Sovereign Galendra stalked toward Eban before he could fully turn to her, his eyes dancing up and down her curves as he said. "Well, hello."


    She remained silent until she was nearly pressing her nose to his. Then her serene hiss danced into his ears. "I presumed you would have agreed to your pact by now, Wizard."


    "I - I¡­ am unsure what¡­ power I should subscribe to." Eban nervously droned, unbridled lust fueling his eyes.


    "Mine." she whispered, and I felt some of my divine mana flowing along with her intent. It rippled into his mind, expanding into visions of Eban swapping between drow and draconic forms much like her newfound divinity allowed her to; an idea that shocked even me.


    "Well then, I''ll leave you to it," I said, throwing down a small temporal domain before sitting to meditate next to Iris.


    As the abundant necrotic ki began flowing toward my spirit to replenish my ki ponds, a sliver of my consciousness remained focused on the Troupe. Specifically, the pack of winter and springtime wolves prowling the edge of the Zimysta''s 7th Leg, House Maerae. Like its corresponding eye, its edifice was a sickening face of formless stone that seemed as if it''d been melted and cooled a dozen times over. No intricate designs or statues were wreathed in faerie flames, only rippled stone and hardly distinguishable entry points that somewhat resembled a spider''s underbelly; for the quirk of House Yril''Lysaen was the demonic blood flowing through their veins; and House Maerae was charged with summoning their fiendish kin and interbreeding them with their slaves.


    Abominations, the lot of them.


    Being isolated as the Falls'' left radial eye allowed them to fester unbothered, much like the calcified 8th house across the way. The smell of hot beeswax, burning rubber, boiling shit, and sour eggs permeated the House''s outer yards, increased tenfold by the celestial snouts of Geri''s crew strutting throughout. They watched the crude amalgamations of humanoids, spiders, and demons shambling in the dark from afar, plotting routes inside while all but gagging at the smell and the slaves'' corrupted forms; as was I. Spider eyes grew like tumors throughout their skulls, if the yellow pits could even be called eyes at all. Hairy, wax-covered legs twitched and writhed unnaturally, jerking their hosts around by the sockets formed within their blown-out rib cages. Fangs, spinnerets, crude limbs, and fiery bits grew in the most undeserving of places; and those were only the most common features, developing each time their tortured wounds were readily healed amidst all this fear, pain, despair, and chaos; their demon''s most common reported affinities.


    As for demon kind''s most common enemies, there were devils, of course, but celestials too; and demons could sense them like flies smelled shit.


    The scattered sea of heads turned the instant Geri stepped down from her perch, then surged, voraciously clawing and climbing over each other in a blind hormone-induced rage. Undeterred, Geri responded like a ranger raised by a necromancer, pouncing laterally to race toward the Eye along the wall while her sorcery poured from her wake like a waterfall. The winds of winter fell rather than water, however. It cascaded down the wall like a glowing curtain that followed the interior contours as it rippled down the Falls, leaving behind a gelid field of compacted ice that crumbled and rose, hardened and detached into faux skeletons that charged with all their might.


    Glacial spears of ice clashed with flaming claws of chitin a dozen times per second. Yet, on either side, it went unnoticed. Geri''s conclave followed her above the fray, their paws leaving giant arcane snowflakes in their wake as they strode through the air, releasing a myriad of spells toward the House''s entrance and the army gathering around it. Amplified yips raced from Katheryn''s snout in waves, with some shattering the drow forming up along the face and others burying into the ice-encased rock to infuse the vibrational energy within. Dusty snow clouded the outer yard as spires fell from the Eye to crash onto the sea of souls or be caught or cut by the countless webs twanging across the space. Yet the conclave spurred forward on their newfound footholds; or, in Rhonda''s case, lifted and welded them into ramps and stairs for the rising undead masses behind them.


    With her undead below and her forces above, Geri formed the spear tip of a blizzard that barreled through the eye''s pupil - a pinpoint of an opening she scouted from afar. The blue-white streak funneled through it and blossomed down the path of least resistance, cracking and splitting the stone as it carved a crossed scar on the eye. Vibrant blue-white arcana poured from the wound like blood, staining the stone with frost that crumbled into more frozen skeletons that were sent tumbling as the winds of Geri''s trailing subordinates passed over them, pulling them onto the eye''s untouched parts to break through the stone with howling roars.


    A pinpoint of light in the pupil was the sole exception; a veritable star in the form of a mad king, his crown gilded and glowing with the heat of a solar furnace as his glare shifted from the demon slaves and undead behind him to the celestial werewolves and demonic drow before him.


    It was almost as if he was pouting, the way he moved next. The Umbra Emperor''s clenched fists reached up, his eyes rolled back and glowed red, and then the rage of Shujen''s Flaming King blew the eye apart.


    The igneous shockwave made the stone flash to magma faster than the celestial ice encasing it could melt. Thus, it didn''t undulate beneath the pressure. It was blasted apart into a field of magma-filled comets.


    They rained on both sides indiscriminately, hissing like serpents as they soared and whistling as they broke apart into clouds of ice and stone shrapnel. Countless slaves were peppered and blown into a pink snowy mist, leaving the stronger ones to huddle beside the lowest-ranking drow males and hold their chitin carapaces in line with the domes of compacted arcana. Those at the center of their makeshift phalanx poised their hand crossbows and mutated limbs above to launch scattering spells and nets of cobwebs at the dispersed werewolves, no matter how many undead surrounded them.


    While those in the outer yard weren''t a concern, those gathered in the House''s first few levels were greater in both number and station; namely, those in Geri and Ruel''s path.


    Theirs was a wide tunnel lined with hardened red-black resin akin to some type of Xeno hive. Ripples and deep folds were seen every several meters, either being alcoves or branching paths packed tight with demon spiders and drow. To no surprise, many of their fingers reached out to Geri, and the arcana reacted, limning her frame in the harmless crimson fire of faerie flames.


    Knowing their attacks would be focused on the illuminated target, Ruel skipped to the wall, hopped to the ceiling, and pounced before Geri, her celestial arcana packed densely in her throat.


    A soundless howl sent a shockwave rippling down the tunnel, parting the masses into a gaseous red sea that left a hard vacuum in its wake. Drow and slaves alike fell to their knees, clutching their throats while attempting to manifest air from the arcana, only to have it dissipate or fail to form the oxygen they needed. To make matters worse for them, the undead horde swept over them like a steaming blizzard as the werewolves pressed on. Frosted skeletons slayed the lesser mutated slaves where they stood frozen like the waxy chitin of their tiny demon spiders, their hides having been raked by the gelid claws of winter wraiths. Yet, for each that fell, more took their place.


    From behind, ahead, above, below, and to each side, a horde of demons swept in to match the undead 2 to 1. Slaves and drow supported them from all angles, crawling atop the resin walls with the same fluidity as their arachnid companions to add to the frenzy. Through it all, Geri''s conclave kept moving; kept racing toward the House''s inner sanctum - an ovoid cavern of pulsating resin akin to Reina''s Flesh Kitchen, only much more disturbing and with significantly less purpose. Its design was haphazard. Clusters of chitinous eggs swung by waxy webs at all angles and altitudes, warmed by the smoke of bronze braziers and stone sconces impaled into the walls. Their translucent surfaces depicted ungainly sights as the light passed through them, adding to Geri''s disgust tenfold.


    It seemed as if she would throw up, the way she doubled over on her hands and knees. Yet, a gelid wind began picking up around her as celestial arcana began pouring from her spirit, covering her form in frozen vines that braided themselves into matted fur, hardened her fingers into glowing claws, and elongated her snarling snout into something feral; then she howled.


    Ruel''s howl followed, trailed by the howling of Norsh, Penny, Rhonda, Lula, and Lemeia; all amplified by Katheryn''s magic to freeze the eggs over and rupture their contents, adding to the expanding shockwave of red gelid mist. They did not linger, however. The conclave dove into the expanding frozen plains beneath the cover of chaos, falling into their niches to focus fire on the more powerful drow Lula saw fit to ''sponsor.''


    Her voice echoed throughout the House as she cheekily narrated the drow''s actions to fluster and open their defenses in the same breath. The undead horde swarmed them in droves, aided by the works of those who summoned them. Norsh was the first of them. Her short, corgi legs seemed to trip as she zoomed around the basin, putting her on a tumble over the snow, stone, and discarded weapons to form a snowball that steadily increased in size as she rolled up the wall and lifted off, arcing toward the room''s center to remain suspended as a mechanical comet - a comet castle, with the halfling barbaric artificer at its center.


    At her command, the comet''s surface cracked, and drank the ambient celestial arcana in the same breath, morphing the chunks of gelid materials into the mechanical forms of jackals, coyotes, and wolves. Penny indirectly assisted her, following dwarven tradition by singing a prayer to both the World Weaver and the Fire Mountain while she thrust her enchanted war banner into the cavern''s basin. The blue-white power of their sorcery blended with the silver-blue radiance of moonlight beautifully, creating a veritable O-type star before the underlying forces of gravity tinged it purple.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    The violet light bathed the roiling cavern with full discrimination, ignoring the fighting masses in favor of the frozen fields beneath them. The ground groaned in response, quaking and shivering as if an ancient giant had been awoken. The arched ceiling crumbled like melting ice caps, releasing countless tons of ice to orbit Norsh''s castle, simultaneously liberating the ground of demon spider resin to be claimed by the war banner.


    The enemy screeched, howled, and bellowed in protest of the violet-blue star cascading into the war banner before it plunged, invoking a silent wail as the frozen stone adopted a steely blue hue.


    The undead leaped, dodged, or froze as the wave swept beneath them, then scrambled as the ambient celestial energy bloomed into a winter wonderland. The enemy became all the more enraged as frosted grasses began to sway atop every surface. Geri''s forces grew all the more enthralled, releasing more energy to grow frozen flowers and glacial trees to replace the webs once cast throughout the House. Rhonda was perhaps the most zealous of them. She was a Clerical Artificer like Penny, albeit a cleric of the ArcaTech, and thus worshiped me by pouncing across the environment with her affinity cores flowing freely, felling frozen trees and lifting flora, discarded materials, and body parts to weld them into golems, canines, and traps charged with her electrical mana.


    Even then, though, with all their work and with all that fell, their accomplishments were just the start.


    It turned out that hellfire and celestial ice were evenly matched. The cannon fodder fell; them, and those just above them. Aside from whatever their matron saw fit to leave in their precious tower, the primary demonic drow, slaves, and spiders of Zimysta''s 7th Eye and Leg were all that remained; and they were relatively unscathed. Their misshapen maws drooled scalding fluid on their chitin to have it retain its normal viscosity, even as they frenzied.


    Just because it was the start did not mean the end would take long, however.


    One particularly unsightly demonic drow latched on to Ruel''s scent as she strode through the snow-capped fields. A flaming claw snatched her tail mid-stride and tossed her across the cavern like a sack of rice, then leaned forward to flex, causing the waxy flesh on his back to bulge and burst as two spider limbs reached out to drape over his shoulder, their barbs dripping with ominous intent. Ruel, on the other hand, only smirked after landing, and then she too leaned onto her paws and shuddered as the air surrounding her form shifted into green flowers and grass that wreathed her form, twisting and writhing into muscle and dark fur formed from the very air.


    There was no howl to accompany her transformation, or her leaning back on her hind legs to tower meters over the drow in her half-bestial form. She only lunged, snarling, while the green air surrounding her claws condensed into massive wind blades.


    The speed of her attack caught her enemy off guard, but the spectral claws did nothing more than fling him across the room, albeit with enough force to report a dull thud before he bounced back like a rubber ball. Ruel matched his speed, flicking out her hand to wreath him in green faerie flames before she drew back her arm, pulling her celestial arcana into an air cannon of a lance.


    The spell took the shape of a spring green songbird as it raced forward to punch through his chitinous skin and bloom upon lancing his liver, reducing a third of his belly to roiling black goo while the rest of him went flying. Yet, the demonic energy within him was so potent that it healed him just as fast. He bounced back into the fray with the same gusto as last time. This time, however, Ruel allowed her bestial side to take over and give chase, freeing her drow side to look inward and connect with the latent energies that came with her station.


    She moved past the frozen winds of winter and the thawing waters of spring to feel the Blistone spread by Penny''s war banner and the wintery flora that grew from it; and from them, the drones her new companions made. Mechanical beasts, much like the Squid Squealer she was so intrigued by. My arcane circuits glowed once she finally connected to Geri''s branch of technology. In turn, the ArcaTech jumping spider in my hair scrambled down to bite my temple, throwing apologetic messages through the net while he literally drank the engineering essence of my divine mana.


    Each greedy gulp ballooned him in size; first from the size of my thumbnail, then to my fist, and on to my head, where he was forced to stand on my shoulder to take one final sip before pouncing into the darkness.


    I watched it appear through the darkness a moment later behind Ruel before it dipped into the snow without her noticing; what she did notice was her sorcery cascading from the ambient environment into a point beneath the snow. Given the context, she assumed it to be a demon countering her energy, thus she cocked her legs, making the celestial arcana pool around her feet before it shot her into the air.


    As she reached high, the giant snowball above began to collapse, its mass cascading into a massive spectral claw that she swung down with a snarl. Her opponent casually danced between her the gaseous blades, even as the gouges she carved across the enemy ranks made the ground quake beneath him, Yet Ruel reacted accordingly, using another air pillar to launch herself toward the drow, her dirk poised before her. He, however, gathered arcana in his sternum and his corrupted skin roiled in response, increasing in mass and density to the point of the blade clanging harmlessly off its surface.


    Ruel''s momentum sent them on the tumble. Going with the flow, she maneuvered herself above the drow before reversing the flow of her air pillar with a bang, sending them rocketing into the frozen lake formed in the ruined house; him roaring and her snarling for several meters until they slammed into the basin, releasing the unstable mass above to bury them in place.


    Inhaling deeply, Ruel then grasped onto the weaker side of her sorcery and poured it through the surrounding arcana to deprive the enemy of nice things by grabbing hold of it with an iron fist. Her snarling maw peeled into a grin as she and the ice flexed around them, crunching and cracking as it compressed them beneath a solid ice sheet. She exhaled before the demon''s scalding flesh could act, injecting a green breeze into their gelid prison to turn the cracked ice into a roiling celestial spring.


    A bubbling eldritch yowling rippled from the lake as the demon-drow began writhing in protest, clawing at Ruel with all his limbs while his feet kicked for the surface; yet he didn''t seem to be swimming or drowning, only flailing.


    Being wreathed in a veil of air made evading him far too easy for Ruel, given the ease by which she sunk her claw into the drow''s shoulder, allowing her to pull him into the most devastating uppercut I''d seen in this life. The predator in her made her unrelenting, however. Even as his feet rocketed off the ground, Ruel gave chase, unclenching her fist to dig her claws into his ribs. The rest of his body jerked into Ruel''s remaining claw as his momentum was arrested, and so began the flailing; the snarling; the lashing of his grotesque limbs against Ruel''s hide; the hisses at the sight of her wounds freezing over, and the howling at the vernal energy rushing down its maw before his angst turned to panic, for her mechanical beast had awoken.


    Upon diving into the frozen expanse, the ArcaTech jumping spider scrambled to do like it had done to me and drink as much winterized stone, steel, and flora before turning on its cousins - the winter drones, blue steel beasts, and even the undead to redistribute its internal components, protect its core systems, and create internal modules within its carapace; all in mere moments. In mere moments, the ArcaTech spider grew from the size of a standard carriage to that of a standard house and maneuvered through the waters below Geri, where its feet vibrated the bedrock to gravel and sent it swirling amidst the air, water, and Ruel''s springtime sorcery to weave its hair, form its scales, and fabricate its final internal components; and weapon.


    As the spring green energy wove the abundant materials into a turreted base atop the spider''s abdomen, Ruel guided the same energy from her spirit to her snarling maw, pitting the House''s collapsed inner sanctum in a green celestial glow. Naught a moment later, the ArcaTech spider followed, invoking a wave that sent the surrounding energy cascading from the lake to its frame. The dark recess of its barrel began to glow when the last of the energy faded from the waters. Creaks, hisses, and cracks echoed as the bubbling waters stilled to an opaque cloud of ice, hardly muting the growl rolling off of Ruel''s snout as her claws flexed around the drow''s fiendish flesh; much less the howl she unleashed.


    Not her voice, but her spell howled as it left her maw in the form of a tree-shaped spear made of spring-green celestial air. She snarled, digging her claws deeper into the enemy''s flesh while she pulled him apart at the seams, acting as the trigger for the ArcaTech spider to unleash its blinding light.


    The entirety of the sanctum shook as a 10-meter jet of tepid spring winds ejected from the spider''s barrel, reducing tons of compacted ice into a blizzard of razor-sharp water droplets that swept over the pair like a subterranean worm on the hunt. But while the spring breeze phased through Ruel without issue, it met much resistance against the drow in Ruel''s clutches. The winds dented his thawing flesh, even as it tore beneath her strength and billowed out the sides to further blast the lake apart. The razor water droplets cut into and diluted his waxy chitin, only to find higher concentrations of the tainted mess gushing from within. And so, it was up to another to break the stalemate.


    The ones who moved according to the paths dictated by the perks of the Masterful Tactician was the former king of the lands above, rocketing toward the ceiling with a veritable star in his palms; simultaneously, his reincarnated daughter raced along the sanctum''s circumference, the entirety of her arcane well gathered in her jaw.


    Ice, wind, and fire met in a spectacular show of radiant steam that turned gray as the light of a celestial and the darkness of undeath roiled but never mixed. Blots of magma cooled to boulders, sheets of ice flashed to steam, and the air pressure skyrocketed before seeking to equalize in the most violent manner imaginable - by pulverizing everything in its path.


    House Yril''Lysaen had become a pressure cooker, and I perceived its detonation throughout several minutes of glorious gore.


    The few remaining survivors crumpled beneath the force of a hundred atmospheres, their death songs and dying throes, distorted by my displaced sense of time, bounced off the shockwave as their waxy flesh buckled, forcing blood from their shattering mouths, crumpling noses, and imploding ears alongside their eyes, crushed into their sockets as if gouged by invisible fingers. Then the pressure spiked to its maximum, smearing them into red paint atop a gravel curtain that seemed hell-bent on fleeing the scene as quickly as possible.


    Acting as fluids did, the shockwave spread propagated down drainage pipes, blew apart windows, forced open doors, and blew apart walls as it sought to equalize itself, bringing about a violent and, in some cases, slow end to the thousands of souls hidden in deeper parts of the House. Elders, children, and babes alike were mushed flat by the approaching wave, then blown into the metaphorical void once the air rebounded against the ancient bedrock to reset its position for the next several eons.


    I saw it all. I looked them all in the eyes as they died and watched their souls descend into the Abyss without exceptions. I judged House Yril''Lysaen, above all others, to die and remain so, for the Elven Devil was not compatible with Lilith''s demons; and these corrupt abominations deserved not to live. I judged; and then I rode the rebounding shockwave as the compressed air did as fluids did and flowed to the only remaining exits - the front entrances to the 7th Eye and Leg.


    Geysers, more powerful than I''d ever seen, spewed across Zimysta Falls, resulting in a deluge that could compete with the Falls themselves. Yet more flowed from the gaping holes left behind; steam, mist, and snow, and at such pressures that their gales howled the dying throes of winter; only to be rekindled into the chirping breath of spring.


    As was the drow custom, any evidence of the battle had been erased. Although there were some survivors - Matron Phyrryn Yril''Lysaen and her clerical daughters - they would not go unpunished for their house''s weakness in Lilith''s culture. In theory, at least. It would not fail to surprise me if things differed from what we anticipated of this time of legend. Regardless, we would keep moving forward.


    As was the Nox''s culture, those who fell now dwelled in my pit - in my Cursed Well - waiting for the unlikely day I returned them to the Mortal Plane as devils, or the likely day I made something exceptionally wicked of their souls.


    As was Eotrom''s culture, Geri, Ruel, and the rest of their conclave lay beaten, burned, and bruised inside the voluminous cavern of Zimysta''s 7th Eye, gnawing on thawing meat amidst a lakeside meadow while their wounds healed. The lake, supplied by the fresh melt still poured from the gaping hole above, rushed over the crepuscular environment formed and enriched by Reina and my clergy to give the flowers a more violet hue.


    For now, at least.

 413 - Summer Harvest

    "You know, the biggest mystery surrounding you is your encounter during last year''s ceremony. It has been told that the humans pitted you against a young red dragon. Dragons, young ones at least, aren''t so much of a problem for elves as it is for other species, minus demons. And so, many of us assumed you raised it in undeath. To think you made a deal with her instead." Eban cackled madly. "Unbelievable."


    "How devious of me. It''s almost like I''m an Elven Devil or something." I snorted, skimming over the contents of their pact and seeing how it related to the dragon in drow form he was ogling. "Anyway, seems like we''ll all have a bestial side."


    "Even Etan?" Eban asked incredulously. "With what?"


    "My Sphinxes."


    As Eban erupted in the maniacal laughter of disbelief, I turned away from him and Sovereign Galendra, enveloping him in her bosom, to fall back into meditation, leaving a sliver of consciousness focused on Zimysta''s remaining three eyes and legs alongside the Owl.


    Moments later, the dragon in drow form stepped back from him, leaving him shrouded in shadows for a bit while she approached me and the Owl to gaze upon the Falls with a cunning eye. Seeing it made the Owl and thus me reflect on how much more reserved she''d become after her temporally dilated hibernation. Now, she was the same physical age as my mental age; 150 years. Yet, we hardly knew each other as individuals. I knew of her need for a horde, her want of more lairs, and an ensuing demand to breed; eventually giving rise to her dominion. Aside from that, however, I knew next to nothing of her ways.


    The irony was not lost on me.


    Just as it was with Toril, Jaimess, and the others, it was the same for Sovereign Galendra and indeed my Troupe; doubly so for the celestial twins.


    I''d known Geri and Freki far longer than anyone else in the Troupe, at least in spirit. Their knowledge of my ways was instinctual, a byproduct of adopting Skoll and Hati''s memories. And, while I knew of their ways as wolves, they had yet to develop ways to live, fight, and die as humans on this Mortal Plane. And so, I paid the closest attention to the more extroverted, ambitious twin, for I knew his ways would be affected on this day far more than his sister''s; his way, the drow of House Abaeir, and Zimysta as a whole.


    With the strongest source of demonic entities frozen over and thawed into pulp by Geri, all that was left was for the demon spiders to be burned from the memories of my fellow drow. While the waters to drown the inferno were positioned around the 2nd Eye and the morbid festivities were being prepared around the 4th Eye, the spark had already caught within the 6th Eye, which held an anomaly, of sorts.


    The burning undead Freki rose and gave away to one Asyrlla Abaeir, the 6th daughter of the 6th House, gave me a window into the once-Great Woven Yards of House Abaeir, where waxy webs and precarious stone was all that stood amidst a magical smog of darkness. The embers burning through its charred skin were the only light within; a candle to my senses but a veritable sun to theirs. Its dull radiance simultaneously blinded and illuminated the pierced faces of the 4th and 5th daughter of the House from the front and Asyrlla from the rear.


    While their eyes were searing, tearing, and sealed shut, the eyes of their demon spiders were not; nor were their senses. Yet, there were no words to share between the sisters, only a sadistic pleasure from those at the front and a deep understanding of what was necessary for her at the rear.


    Asyrlla seized the initiative by gathering arcana in her palm to manifest a dense cloud of smoke from it, then transmuted the excess energy into a heat wave that sent her arcane smoke screen billowing over her assailants. In the same breath, she ditched her mana veil and retreated into the darkness, concealing her presence while the burning undead began swinging its gnarled fists with reckless abandon.


    She remained clear to my senses as she distanced herself, focusing on the one who indirectly aided her under the solace gained by the pervasive magical darkness. She knew her sisters were as visually impaired as she was, yet she also knew their beasts were not. Thus she quickened her pace, moving toward the exit by memory alone, keeping her senses sharpened to the height of their ability to evade the many noises scuttling about.


    Wide berths were taken around the skittering, chattering calls of the demon spiders. Wider berths were taken around the arcane signatures of her sisters. But when she heard growling and howling precede the crackling of burning roots, all caution seemed to be thrown aside.


    She dared to hope as rushed toward them and felt that hope split into opposing emotions as smoldering roots rushed past her. Rage clouded her senses and billowed once the crimson webs she''d grown so familiar to refused to show. Yet, there was no rage toward herself, her sisters, me, or anything but the Queen Demon Spider for being so fickle - nay, so paranoid that she''d cast her out for claiming an undead as an asset.


    That was fine for her, however, for she was made aware of a Drow God who was much less fickle and far higher in station than even the Queen Demon Spider.


    Like so many before her, the initial thought of submitting to the divine forces she once opposed flashed through her mind, birthing feelings of fear and shame and thoughts of skepticism before the fundamental truth was finally acknowledged; in Lilith''s name, mine, or hers, death was the only outcome. And so, she looked into the veritable void for a bit too long, and I looked back.


    Gilded rays wreathed her form as my name uttered from her lips, opening the rays of twilight to pierce the veil and show her the way to the one she sought. As she rushed, my divine touch rushed after her to correct and develop her genes to their pinnacle.


    As things went, she could not feel such things. The divine worked in subtle ways, after all. But what she did feel was the sense of freedom as she realized, for the first time in her life, her future was hers to decide, birthing a burning passion that kicked her into overdrive.


    I flagged her on the Net and looked through Freki''s eyes as she rounded the last bend. An unneeded act, as it were, for Freki had long-since caught Asyrlla''s scent and was hardly surprised to see her sliding to a halt before him, weapons thrown to either side.


    Her attempt to demand Freki take responsibility for recent events was sundered by Freki''s clawed hand clenching around her waist to draw her shoulder closer to the scalding drool dripping from his fangs.


    Freki''s teeth bit into her shoulder like all the rest, searing and smoking as the venomous drool sank into her flesh before he tossed her aside. The cracks and distorted howls of shifting bone and an evolving spirit were largely ignored by him. Instead, he focused on the grimacing visage of an elderly woman who''d been mummified by frost. Her skin, frozen in time to a doll-like state, nearly mimicked the tan hues of her son. Yet the hollow holes in her eyes were filled with a radiance similar to his sister''s.


    "Make sure she bites only who she''s supposed to. Keep her occupied." Freki growled at his mother. And though the Undead Ice Queen of Shujen followed his orders to the T, it wasn''t without backtalk.


    "Worry not about your mate, boy." She spat. "You have a harvest to tend to."


    Freki''s sneer forced a plume of smoke from his snout, yet the snout on his pauldron was the one that glowed. Its eyes burned with the radiance of the sun while the adamantine cannonball in its mouth rippled with heat.


    The Hesperus Star detached when Freki returned his gaze to his hunting grounds, falling into an orbit around him as he pulled arcana from his spirit with the grace of a barbarian.


    It roiled rather than flowed through his spirit and used no spiritual organs to change its nature to a seasonal spectrum of summer and autumn; red and brown. Yet it had purpose, flowing in two paths to his fist, reaching out to pluck the star from its orbit and imbue his voice with power before uttering. "Summer Sun."


    The words banged against the Hesperus Star like the drums of a gong or, better yet, like a batter hitting a home run, launching the glowing orb skyward to suspend itself around the Great Woven Yard''s zenith.


    The plucking strings, yips, and howls of the Fruitful Four echoed as the dull amber light of a rising sun splayed across the yards for the first time, casting eerie shadows as the lupine forms of the harvest wardens scattered to hunt the beasts and slaves sent to end them. They found the hunt much more of a challenge than expected, however, as the beasts were demonic by nature and thus at home in the smoldering environment.


    For now.


    Until then, claws and fangs clashed amidst the dull orange glow, with either side dealing blows that would kill a civilian a dozen times over and healing them through all powers innate, celestial, druidic, divine, and arcane. Searing webs cauterized wounds and reattached limbs as quickly as they were dismembered while all but magical, adamantine, or mithral weapons bounced harmlessly off the werewolves'' hides, creating a stalemate that would have lasted through the ages, were it not for Freki''s recent recruits.


    A short whine sent the Black Pack Alphas rocketing skyward on pillars of fire, seemingly toward the burning orange orb above until they split to the four winds. Arcane stone layered itself atop their bodies as they arced above the gathering enemy, forming humanoid boulders that gulped the ambient heat until they were churning, roiling, and glowing as bright as the Hesperus Star before they crashed into the enemy ranks like meteors.


    The House rolled beneath the four thunderous quakes, striking its interior like the ill-tempered fist of a giant to throw countless tons of scalding stones and magma skyward and later oppress the once-Great Woven Yards as a hellish rain. The enemy, cannon-fodder though they were, had been reduced to an afterthought, as there was nothing left to bite or raise in death. That was merely the pre-harvest, however; both for the Meteor Pack and House Abaeir.


    The counterattack came swift enough to surprise even me. Spiders scrambled from a hundred unseen trapdoors, their sizes ranging from palm-sized to the height of a small estate. Drow dropped from above or cast spells from below, rising to outnumber the spiders 2 to 1 while twice as many slaves rushed from the tunnels to back them up, eager to meet their deaths and escape from this hell for good. However, the veritable bosses of this battle appeared as a pair of crimson streaks emerging from the same tunnel as Asyrlla to shoot past Freki, leaving his towering form riddled with scars from head to toe.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    The sonic wake of their movement came a moment later, as did Freki''s growl, rising into a snarl that banged against the star above, and it flared in response, brightening to a bright yellow glare that sent the drow and spiders scrambling for cover, freeing Freki to focus on the roiling energy in his spirit and guide it toward his heart.


    The spiritual chain and dagger wrapped around Freki''s heart glowed white as his arcana flowed through it, injecting an adrenal concoction into his system that made his heart rate spike. His rising blood pressure raised venous ridges across his skin as his breath became labored, pulling his lips into a smoking snarl. When his eyes glowed with the same white heat as his star, Freki turned and pounced, crushing a crater into the ground as he ascended several meters and soared several meters more, his massive fist clenched back to be unleashed in the stalagmite his closest assailant darted behind.


    The impact was like a shotgun built for a giant. The concussive boom was enough to shatter the bones of many bystanders on its own, but the actual damage came from the stone shrapnel pelting off the chitinous armor of Afae Abaeir, sending her cartwheeling in the air where she was opened to Freki''s claws. Despite it all, the 5th daughter spat webs and made the arcana roil around her to coil her lithe frame between Freki''s massive claws, drawing a dirk to thrust at his neck in the same breath as if to showcase her superiority complex.


    Freki remained prepared, however. The celestial arcana flowing down his arms peeled off before his flurry, forming spectral burning brambles that wove themselves into claws and converged its nails into a singular point that lunged into her unguarded side with a feral ravenousness.


    Unguarded, though she was, she was not unarmored. Her chitinous breastplate rippled beneath Freki''s red-hot claws as its surface was dented, devolving into a waxy mess that seemed to drain the claws of their heat before the kinetic energy launched Afae across the cavern.


    Her sister, Erellara, levitated above the fray, carelessly watching the druid fail to catch herself in webs and crash into the far wall, her mind concentrated more on a prayer to her sadist of a Goddess instead. Her prayer to restrain the filth before her spawned a crimson spear from above to cut through my darkness like shears through paper before it exploded into a domain of hellfire and waxy webs. Yet, past the devil''s darkness, there was the Summer Sun''s celestial light to smother and burn.


    Freki turned toward the spell as it sizzled away, yet fell back, allowing the field of smoking weeds at his feet to consume him wholly. Erellara went on the defensive immediately, drawing a dirk while another prayer formed on her lips. Before the first word could be spoken, however, the space beneath her filled with smoke and soon ignited, opening a conflagration that spat out the giant of a bestial man. In exchange, Erellara spat; literally. Her prayer was cut short with a contemptuous loogie she spat at Freki before canceling her levitation and diving dirk first. The arcana reserved for the prayer was instead imbued into the phlegm, making it stick to her lips and draw out into a line as it closed the distance. Just before it smacked Freki, however, it seemed to anchor itself in space, forming a hypersonic zipline that pulled her in when she sucked in her drool like a noodle.


    She descended as a blur that Freki struggled to track. All he could sense was the cold bite of her blade sinking into his neck, burning as crimson arcana flowed down the edge before a pain he''d never felt surged down his spine.


    Freki swayed as the pestilential venom spread through his body like a legion of baby spiders, devouring his organs and clouding his senses with the burn of a million bites. Yet his rage pushed him through it, bringing his senses back to the drow priestess kneeling on his massive shoulder.


    His arms blurred and his left claw caught her ribs, his right dug into her thigh, and he dragged her down with a ravenous roar. In turn, Erellara dragged her blade through Freki''s collarbone and left lung as she was pulled, yet failed to remove her face from the burning maw.


    As Freki inhaled a ragged breath, the burning adrenaline in his spirit exhaled something pure and poured it in Freki''s mouth, concentrating it into a radiant inferno that growled louder than he did. Even while being blinded, however, Erellara didn''t falter. She deftly forwarded her reversed grip and swept her blade up just as the conical beam of celestial energy sprayed from Freki''s maw, parting it harmlessly around her frame.


    Sneering, Freki jerked forward and snapped, then reeled back as he felt blood sizzle around his gums, bones resting on his tongue, and metal clenched between his teeth, and so he jerked, pulling her weapon away while throwing the drow off him.


    Ever pragmatic, Erellara swung into the far distance to heal and swung herself further upon seeing an enraged Afae guiding a veritable legion of beasts toward Freki. Freki, however, didn''t see things that way. Au contraire. Freki saw it as fearful cowardice, activating his predatory instincts, in turn furthering his rage. Yet, he simmered in place, clenching his fists and growling in tune with his roiling spirit. His breath grew more bestial, more¡­ voracious, as his tan skin charred, cracked, and began to glow from within. His flowing black hair ignited into a raging conflagration around his skull and was snuffed out as he haunched forward, condensing into a burning halo as smoky fur flowed down his form. Then he unleashed his wrathful howl and all the energy roiling within him.


    Freki''s detonating spirit vaporized the surrounding stone before the ambient air could superheat and expand. The mass contained within the ensuing pressure wave skyrocketed as the gas compressed, expanding the crater that''d formed and peeling back its bottom layer in a fraction of a second. The resulting floor to ceiling wall bled with heat and changed phases as the shockwave finally blasted it apart, utterly ruining the Great Woven Yards and immolating all but the strongest creatures who claimed it as their domain. They sliced or simply barreled through the blast in ways that made me nerd out, despite their need to die.


    As if it echoed that sentiment, the Summer Sun inhaled more of Freki''s flowing energy and flared to an A-type star that sought to bless the Darkworld cavern with the life-giving energies of summer. Its radiance burned the aberrant landscape in the retinas of those who witnessed its glory, leaving them to listen to the stone hissing in protest of their inner compounds vaporizing as they charred and burned. Those who clung to the shadows felt despair rising as the walls began to shift and slide to the floor, mitigating their cover more and more by the second. Yet, the spiders were undeterred, continuing their march through the pooling magma without a care.


    A line of arcane explosions halted their progress, shaking them to their core but otherwise doing nothing but stalling them, with only a few giving chase to the Black Pack Alphas; covered by the harvest wardens. And so, Freki turned his attention to the hand-less priestess, levitating in the shade of a giant stalagmite as she tried to heal.


    A dull boom signaled his leap into the air and she reacted accordingly, hastening her witchcraft while compressing arcana into a shield behind her. Freki, on the other hand, soared, gathering his sorcerous might in his fist and throat before punching at the empty air.


    "Meteor Fist!"


    A searing fist-shaped boulder materialized from his knuckles as they struck the air and flashed into superheated magma as it met the Summer Sun''s light, yet remained a compressed solid mass as it plummeted toward Erellara''s hiding spot.


    Much like the pre-harvest, the meteor strike made Priestess Erellara an afterthought. Having nowhere to run, she could only continue hiding behind her stalagmite, even as it melted and fell around her arcane shield. Then the meteor shattered said shield, burying and smashing and incinerating her before it all went splashing amidst the shockwave.


    The carnage made the Summer Sun flare in approval, adopting the blue-white light of an O-type star that put Freki in a majestic light as he surveyed the alien environment. Pillars, buttresses, daises, railings, and other adamantine structures floated amidst the growing lava lake like lost islands; armor, furniture, and the infrastructure released of their foundations being their jungles and cities, glowing white hot but remaining as solid as ever.


    The sight birthed a sadistic pleasure in Freki that turned his sights back on Afae, engaging his men in the distance. Unlike her sister, she remained shielded from the heat by her chitinous armor and protected from the oppressive light by her giant spiders, standing in a huddle above her like a living phalanx.


    With a mind to end the hunt with a bang, Freki launched to land alongside his men and fell into a barbaric frenzy. Yet, it was to little avail. The spider''s numbers were too great, their hides were too resilient against their heated claws, and even with their strength, they could not sustain their momentum if their numbers increased.


    So it was. Freki looked deeper into his spirit than ever before, looking past the simmering beast''s head to find its hind quarters buried in dust, and he resonated with it. On the outside, Freki pounced away from the line and let his rage be tempered by the rains of summer, cooling his spirit to a more autumnal shade of brown. As he took a deep breath, the cracks of thunder bellowed and the Summer Sun''s light began to shimmer as thick clouds swarmed it, releasing a deluge from their gullets to be vaporized at once, forming more clouds of billowing steam that soon cleared as they absorbed the ambient heat and lost its opacity.


    As he inhaled, the ground beneath him surged. The lava surrounding him flowed outward like a tidal wave, revealing a dais of blackened bedrock that cracked beneath the emergence of colossal autumnal roots. Brown vines crept over his skin, if only to burn into an ashen cowl beneath the Summer Sun. Gray trees sprouted around him, only for the oppressive heat to strip them of their bark and send them toppling over Freki''s form, where it seemed to melt and harden into metallic or obsidian plates, clawed gauntlets, and spurred boots that perfectly mimicked his form. Orange squash, corn, and other crops tumbled down the vines, reaching across his back, if only to self-immolate and weave its crackling flame into a pair of radiant wings, poised behind Freki to sweep the rains of autumn forward.


    As the rain rushed forward to flash into steam, so too did the land burst forth to birth creeping vines, burning bushes, and smoldering trees, lifting or sinking the molten terrain to fit the wolves harvesting it. Yet that was only the beginning. As Freki began howling, spurring his pack into a frenzy, billowing plumes of celestial dirt and heavenly dust ejected from his spirit, falling in place of the rain to pelt the spider''s fleshy, wax-like carcasses en masse.


    Freki''s fertile soil effectively smothered the demon-spiders the same way ants smothered slugs with dirt to counter their mucus; which was fitting, due to the spiders being equally disgusting. While mighty and exceptionally deadly, they weren''t the sharpest tools in the shed, remaining unaware of their exploited weakness until Bazra''s fist blasted a chunk out its chitin.


    With their weakness exposed, the predatory nature of Freki''s men took hold. Their yips and calls drowned out Freki''s howling as they worked with each other to reduce the outer layers of this spider onion Afae made for herself, stripping legs before they went in for the kill and tossed the stripped layers aside.


    Within minutes, Afae became an afterthought. Yet, Freki continued howling. Freki continued indiscriminately releasing his autumnal sorcery from his spirit, having it manifest as a geyser of celestial roots and volcanic soil that swept over the cavern in irregular waves.


    Every centimeter of the melted house was covered in the roots before a subsequent blast added a layer of soil, then Freki''s howling would taper and the soil would melt beneath the Summer Sun, only to be covered in another layer of celestial roots after he caught his breath. Repeatedly, until the cavern was filled in its entirety; giving the Meteor Pack veritable highways to chase down those with the enchantments, spellcraft, or wits to survive.


    Layer by later, soul by soul, House Abaeir was harvested; their Great Woven Yards were limed with blood of demons, fertilized by autumnal detritus, sown with the heat of a star, and watered by magma; sustaining the cycle of change.


    From where I stood in the Arcane Tower, I could see the 6th Eye of Zimysta lose the purple-orange glow of its Faerie Flame infused architecture before a stream of bodies poured from the 6th Leg a few ways away, chased by a pillar of steam. Orange-white magma flowed from the entrances soon after, appearing as vibrant strings that spilled into the newly reformed grazing yards, sending the rothay and the new beasts hunting them skittering away.


    A prelude to what was to come.


    When the smoke began pouring from the eye and glowing dull orange soon after, the result was akin to a plastic film being burned away. Parts of the wall began to glow, first red, then white before their surfaces peeled back, allowing superheated magma to fall as a wave with less viscosity than the Falls themselves, splattering as high as the ceiling as it fell to the basin''s depths to be corrupted by Cononthoth''s Draconic essence.


    I paid little attention to the Shadowfire magma, however. That was something for Eban to focus on, for a part of my spirit was standing alongside Freki, rewarding the best boy''s efforts by attending his revelry.

 414 - Rickleys Bolero

    "So, what now?" Eban asked.


    "That''s a good question." I snorted, turning my eyes about the Falls as I pondered my plans for Zimysta, Shujen, Rhar, the Bodhi Tree and its Peninsulas; plus wherever I decided to go next year. But of course, his words held a different meaning. His words were meant for him, his brother, and his new mistress alone. Our interests, however, were far greater. Thus, I pointed to G''eldantaar to show him our way, only to withdraw reflexively once a line of divine mana was cast from my finger.


    It plunged into the darkness like a luminescent lure, attracting every pair of bestial, sentient, and undying eyes to the ingrown crown of this dying spider. Yet it did not reel so much as flare. Arcana, gilded and pure, billowed like fire around the tower and rose to infuse its superficial heat into the stone, forming a veritable star in the Darkworld that pushed against the darkness like stellar radiation on celestial dust.


    For the first time in its short existence, the virulent waters of purple and blue could be seen as clearly as the black grasses at its shores, the amber trees growing in the distance, and the crepuscular food chain that evolved within. Yet, I turned away from the light I birthed in the Darkworld.


    Somewhat annoyed, I turned to see the darkness clinging to Eban just as much as it clung to me and Sovereign Galendra, his irises blacker than night. "You can stay here, meet the others above, or bring any worthy people into your employ. The choice is yours. As for me," I sighed, turning. "I''m going on a walk."


    As if in response to my stepping off the terrace, the remaining eyes of Zimysta flared in anger, pitting the front-right face of the cavern in Lilith''s wrathful red flames. The main right eye was not the one to act, however, but the comparatively tiny one beneath it.


    Tap. Tapity-tap. Tapity-tap, tap, tap.


    Tapity-tap, tapity, tapity, tapity-tap.


    The 4th House of Syndyrran Illistyn, was a fortress of webs; a labyrinth of web and bone, a cobweb of ancient archives, carved into the stone. So it was; the 4th House first heard the bolero of Rickley''s drums ages before anyone else, rumbling their ancient walls, working to summon the dead to march along to the toot, toot, toot of her flute.


    Thum. Thum. Thum. Thum-thum.


    Carbury''s horn flute traveled from one halfling to another, one hand to the next, and as things went, became tainted by the relative years of use. Coating the instrument was a film of gilded grime, splotched and stained with the black, green, purple, and red tears that wound down Rickley''s face when she played. It tainted the instrument just as it did to her, corrupting its Fae essence to charm the dead, target souls, mark the living, and taint the realms.


    In that order, it worked, encouraging the undead to pick up every rock, rod, and worn weapon they could find on their way to the House. Many inside felt a sense of dreariness as they heard the morbid prelude, given the fervor in which they sent their lessors to investigate. The enemy emerged in waves from the side entrances, terraces, and the lesser House Talaste''ven, staying as far from the entrance as possible as if they could escape the sense of foreboding imposed on them.


    As things were, their cowardice allowed Rickley''s growing horde to march through the front entrance undisturbed. They piled into the house with the mindless fervor of the dead, uncaring of the shockwaves blowing the bone and viscera of their comrades over them as they threw themselves against arcane barriers and other magical wards. Hands and legs crawled aimlessly amidst the turmoil, their bodies having been crushed to dust by falling stone blocks and sliding slabs. Still, the enemy gave them a wide berth, ever fearful of the haunting bolero echoing through the house, even as they charged its source.


    Rickley took the initiative by allowing the ambient light to sustain her tune while she squatted low, coiling her shadow into a spring around her legs. The ground cracked beneath her launch, sending her rocketing toward an orcish slave, her arm cocked back like a poised fencer.


    The green brute staggered at the sight, yet reacted quick enough to step into an uppercut; albeit a moment too late. Shadows sloshed around Rickley''s arm as her momentum tapered and flowed into a needle-thin rapier as she thrust. It pierced and sank into the orc''s throat as she landed on his shoulder and rolled off, dragging her blade across his neck to leave a scar that glowed as bright as the gilded fires above her.


    Rickley landed in a roll, coming up in the center of a group of slaves with arcana packed into her throat as she shouted. "Boom!" banging against the air hard enough to knock her assailants back.


    The strongest of them dug in their heels and raised their blocks in fear of the followup, yet the only thing they felt was the thick dust settling on their skin. Their eyes turned about the darkness in search of the halfling, only to settle on the fallen orc''s gilded scar as the shimmering howl of his dying song rose in pitch. They began backpedaling as the howl morphed into a reverberating, brassy bellow and outright fled once the gilded light in his scar flared brighter, vaporizing the flesh to unveil the gleaming bones of Rickley''s newest creation before the darkness assaulted it, aggregating around the light to form an incorporeal body of darkness for the twilit bones.


    It roared like the trumpets of heaven before it lunged, fading into a blur that chased and herded the fleeing slaves to the place they once sought to avoid; chased by the haunting chants of Rickley''s dwarven urn, leading the zombified visages of Aufa and Phoruca into the House.


    Rickley watched it all from above, where she remained lounging in a hammock of a darkness for about a dozen seconds before hopping to the pit of gloom waiting below. As she landed, her Umbra Emperor rose to stand beside her. Buke, the Gut King, looked as disgusting as ever. Fat deposits crusted with scabs hung from every patch of skin imaginable, sloshing and swaying as he swung about to survey his shitting grounds.


    The forces ahead heard his first steps and spurred forward as if they feared the outcome; all but two. Aufa and Phoruca had been moving with haste from the start, their glistening mithral skeletons, pocked with half-grown organs, broken bands of muscles, and patches of skin, danced through the dark-filled corridor, maneuvering to the prey they set their sights on decades, or in Aufa''s case, years ago.


    The grand library, or whatever it was called, of House Illistyn was a voluminous labyrinth of meticulously carved stone, holding a wealth of knowledge pulled from the collective minds of at least three species, from two realms, and across tens of thousands of years, spread beneath an elegant chandelier of violet-crimson arcana-infused crystals.


    They usurped and seized it all in less than a minute.


    Phoruca stormed through first, arcing through the air on an arcane pillar. She gathered the ambient darkness around a glowing spear woven with the surrounding arcana and swept her arms about, manifesting dozens more umbral arrows before a push of her hand released them en masse. They arced unseen in the darkness like a parliament of owls - needle-like things that elongated as they threaded the necks of the enslaved archivists and those who ruled them. The bloody entrails left in their wakes remained suspended in the shadows for moments after their passing. The way they stretched from the neat holes in their necks made them look like fleshy worms; or rather, like fleshy straws. Straws that gulped down the darkness and pumped them into the newly vacant vessels.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Having been reduced to husks of flesh leaking wisps of darkness through every orifice, they rushed past the many pockets of arcana forming around their former lifeblood, carpeting every tome, scroll, and book in arcane cobwebs that, like her sister''s spell, seemed to drink the potent umbral energies spreading through the house. The arcane prowess of my fellow drow had yet to bore me. Yet, I turned my gaze away from Phoruca and Aufa to gaze upon the Celebrity of Souls, marching through the House''s entrance with a radiance that could literally kill.


    Given the way she died, the sorcerous twilight I granted Rickley had adopted a poisonous nature. By default, it worked by contact, yet she could tailor it to behave in any way; including like light and darkness. And so, the stampede of slaves spared by the undead, Phoruca, and Aufa rounded the bend to the grand foyer just as Rickley entered and faced a billowing wave of darkness that crashed over them like stampeding herbivores running from the light; and once it passed, they were bathed in a stellar radiance that made their bodies churn.


    They dropped like flies in the face of Rickley''s twilight, only for the darkness to seize them from behind, causing them to spaz and leap to their feet, stomping to the taps of Rickley''s drums. They grasped onto the shields and swords decorating the statues and struck them against each other as their hips turned them around, their arms swung, and their legs stomped in cadence with Rickley''s Bolero.


    Strengthened by Rickley''s song and enhanced by her dark light, they poured through every opening to chase those they once fled beside, eager to add more members to their macabre march. Buke claimed the path they took at once, charging up his bubbling guts to plague the library with powerful quakes as he stormed inside, only to stumble as the pustules of fat around his legs popped like balloons. Buke''s momentum sent him tumbling, rolling to smash into the nearest bookshelf-analogue and leave him ''dazed'' once he stood. He swayed on his feet - now bloodied bones coated in tattered skin - and doubled over, coughing and hacking liters of oily phlegm from his jowls with enough gusto to force a splattering shart out of his backside.


    Out of either shamelessness or necessity, Buke stood, leaned back, and let loose, ejecting a slimy, shitty, oily bile over the halls as he twisted on his feet, rocking back and forth to alternate between shitting and vomiting as if to dance to the haunting tune of House Illistyn''s demise.


    The putrid mixture hissed as it sloughed and settled to off-gas the most foul toxins Buke could fester in his gut; and he admired it swimmingly, bellowing boisterous laughs as he dug his hand in his shredded belly. From it came a cruelly spiked adamantine club that seemed to change Buke''s persona as he reeled it back, turning him to a raging husk of a madman who sought only destruction and filth. The ever-present darkness pooled around his weapon before he unleashed it, creating an umbral paddle to slam against the air, causing a rebound that pulverized furniture, disintegrated decor, and crumbled supports.


    Before the debris could be flung about the cavern, a spike of arcana shot from the chandelier and detonated like a supernova. It spread a foul something across the hall, corrupting the darkness and turning it into a nebulous expanse of crimson clouds I struggled to peer through.


    The toxic sludge left behind was pulled from the stone as if it had evaporated and subsequently condensed into a web of winding strands, leaving a relatively clean field of rubble to be infected by spell''s the latent energies. For what it was worth, Buke looked upon his work morphing into stone spiders, floating pikes, bolts, and torturous devices with a phlegmatic disposition; albeit because a mob of wizardly slaves stormed in from the rear entrances, led by Matron Illistyn''s 6th daughter, Sinaste, demanding his attention. Aufa, hidden near the ceiling on the far left, pounced toward her the moment she focused on her sharp visage. Yet, Buke was faster. His unburdened form streaked through the air to intercept an arcane bolt thrown by Ssapue, and only then did he fall to tend to the masses below.


    Phoruca was the one to engage the bardic 5th daughter, who''d been pushed to command the lesser house from the front lines by the anomalous presence of the 4th daughter, Priestess Shurvyrae Illistyn.


    Judging by the spell she cast earlier, Priestess Shurvyrae, I assumed she''d prove to be quite the problem. Thus, Rickley made the priestess her highest priority, for she was not a fighter. Like Ed would in his fights, Rickley saw this grand battle for the fate of House Illistyn as nothing more than a nuisance - a bug that needed squishing. And so, she reached for her biggest proverbial boot.


    Rickley''s radiant poison flared as she took flight, climaxing her haunting bolero with the twangs of plucked spider strings and the morbid wails of the priestess''s divine domain fighting for existence. Beneath her, the slave army reeled against the undead pouring in through every hole, howling and stomping to the tapity tap-tap besetting the house''s foundation.


    To the left, Aufa and Sinaste percussed the house with fire, ice, wards, and domains as they battled each other for dominance over the arcana. With my overwatch, however, Aufa''s victory of such a battle was a guarantee, forcing the House wizard to tap into her Arcane Well to even the odds. Thus, Aufa tapped into the nigh-infinite arcana within hers and poured it into her voice as she incanted. "Crepuscular Crypt!"


    As if someone flicked a light switch, the burning red that plagued the house burnt out, having been replaced with a gilded radiance suffused into space itself. It was almost like the very air was emitting photons. Yet, darkness persisted in thick globules along the wall and central space, acting as refuges once Rickley''s radiance bloomed to a light akin to Freki''s Summer Sun. The slaves, emboldened by Ssapue''s songs, faltered as the searing light made their stomachs churn. Teary-eyed, the bardic drow scrambled in an attempt to shield herself from the baleful light and distance herself from the tenacious Phoruca using the only means available - Aufa''s crypts.


    They darted to the alcoves of darkness scattered on the walls and dove into the pits of shadows sprawled across the center, where they must have felt at ease before their spine-tingling trembles of fear rippled through my darkness, for it held Aufa''s unbridled influence.


    Her domain attacked from all angles, enveloping the slaves, Sinaste, and Ssapue in bladed umbral tendrils that coiled around their limbs, grinding into their flesh as they pulled them deeper into the umbral sarcophagi that birthed them, sealing them in a crypt of light and darkness. For what it was worth, Priestess Shurvyrae listened to the fading screams of her siblings and subordinates without a care in the world. Her training, sociopathy, devotion to Lilith, or a combination of the three, kept her eyes on the lookout for the halfling hidden in a curtain of light above while her chitinous armor drank the poisonous radiance like wine; at least until she spotted the unknown creature poised before the entrance.


    Jerry, Rickley''s giant poison dart frog of an Uma, bathed in Rickley''s radiance while blocking off the exit, absorbing the poison through its skin at twice the rate of the Priestess'' armor in ways that made its black and yellow patterns swirl. Having never seen such a creature before, it demanded her focus once its slime seeped onto the stone at its feet, and when it went to croak, she reacted on impulse - an opening that spelled her doom.


    A curtain of light above Priestess Shurvyrae unveiled Rickley Ravenbrook, descending at the speed of darkness with a mace of a baton in one hand and Carbury''s horn-turned flute in the other. So it was; the opening act of House Illistyn''s funeral began with the bang of Rickley''s mace crushing Priestess Shurvyrae''s nape.


    A muffled crack ad-libbed the bang as Rickley''s roguish perk activated, drawing the ambient arcana through her weapon to add a jolt of power to the wake of Rickley''s super-strength whilst simultaneously silencing her stealthy attack. As I did with the fall of each house, I altered my perception of time to watch the energy fall down her spine, crushing and pulverizing each vertebrae until her body absorbed its fill of kinetic energy and released the excess indiscriminately.


    As Rickley followed through, the oppressive radiance of Aufa''s domain became overcast with the priestess'' mangled body releasing a pink mist to absorb the toxic light, obscuring the shotgun shower of spinal fragments peppering the umbral sarcophagi below. Those trapped within howled at the knock at their proverbial doors. They banged, and they broke out of their confines in droves, emerging as glimmering skeletons enveloped in umbral robes that flared as they flung themselves across the battlefield with the same burning gusto as Rickley''s Bolero.


    Having no apparent enemy, they stomped on Jerry''s slime and they screamed in each other''s faces, yipping and clicking until the Soul Celebrity started the second and final act of House Illistyn''s funeral.


    "DEAD PARADE!"

 415 - Divine Matriarchs

    Rickley''s show was one I thoroughly enjoyed, for it was the second to last of such battles that I would see for some time. And so, my eyes lingered on the Dead Parade marching out of Zimysta''s fallen 4th Eye for several moments before I opened my shadow, then let my eyes linger on the undead I kept trapped in my umbral pocket. Free of their confines, low-level skeletons and zombies shambled in mobs toward those unloved by the darkness, with some losing their ''train of thought'' and falling behind, only to be directed by the few of them with umbral smoke pouring from their hollow orbits or the radiance of my arcana in their decaying eyes.


    In the absence of orders, the Undead Pages scattered their forces throughout and defaulted to aggression by patrolling the Falls, only for the Undead Knights to guide them toward the place that mattered the most. That, however, was not what I wanted, so I finally took command of the dead with the mere suggestion of a thought, and as one, my undead and Rickley''s turned to meet in the middle of the Falls to rework the stone in nature''s image, tailored to the likeness of a divine dragon of shadow and fire - a largely unneeded effort, as the potent arcana within these falls bent to my will above all others. It rippled against the intent in my mind and ignited that divine spark contained within, rippling into the Falls to grab hold of the ruined stone, fields of dust, and destroyed houses to Mend, Recycle, and Fabricate in their stead.


    The voluminous alcoves of the fallen Eyes expanded and shifted in the same breath, becoming expansions of the fiendish energies displayed within or, in the celestial''s cases, overtaking the heavenly energy to imbue the magma and snow with a violet-black undertone. It had pestilence and death, given by the bounties of famine and war. The niche opened by the fallen mushroom forest was now filled with dusk woods. It had magma and thus it had stone, interspersed with the metals and jewels dislodged from the ancient eyes. Ice fell from the walls like glaciers, adding to the great basin below; yet there was not enough water, even with the¡­ I suppose stream of Zimysta pooling in. So it was; the undead paraded around the missing eyes to vacate the Troupe and weave the stone into a multi-staged dam or, more precisely, a series of chambers fed from above and below - a foundation for what was to come.


    The sole exception was the 2nd Eye; not because of neglect, however, but because Blude was the only one who decided to play by Drow rules.


    Further below and ahead of the Falls, she built her second franchise for her Grand Hadal Estates. After destroying the slaver''s guild, she returned to her estates with the corpse of Welvd''al, the 2nd son of House Casia-Psellus. Having killed one of the Matrons'' sons, she''d been using her Artificing Witchcraft to perform cosmetic surgery on Raki, making her appear just like him and more, to gain his key memories. But it wasn''t until now, when the House was so focused on the events outside, that Raki acted.


    She emerged from the bulbous coral as a burly drow with a combed crop of silver hair, dressed ostentatiously in silken robes and jewels. Unlike the clothes he wore, they remained bone dry as she let the current take her down the falls. No doubt aided by the slope, Raki whipped her hand toward the wall after falling a dozen or so meters to catch herself on the stone, where she counted to 90 to ensure the coast was clear before swimming upwards, rocketing up the Falls like a salmon and coming to a landing at the base of the 2nd Eye, unseen.


    She adopted an indignant visage before she stormed through the House''s private entrance, lashing out at Welvd''al''s subordinates as they approached to explain the 1st son Divdiirn''s failure to return from Nydorden Halls. Following Welvd''al''s mannerisms, Raki reacted to the presumption of Divdiirn being a traitor or dead in the most extreme manner possible - by killing both the messenger and a nearby slave just for the hell of it.


    Almost laughing at the absurdity, I watched my divine mana strip some of my ki from my spirit and sow it inside them, keeping them gasping and suffering on the brink of death like the tens of thousands of others scattered across the Falls. Meanwhile, the disguised Raki retreated to Welvd''al''s quarters, ensuring to take the long route to spill wide puddles from her waterskin in the most obscure places and to leave coral rings in the pockets of select individuals, drow and slave alike. I needn''t even encourage her to move with purpose, for she knew more than I that Welvd''al would be hunted. Welvd''al and many more.


    While Raki evaded those who hunted Welvd''al, those chosen few noticed their rings and felt an unyielding urge to put them on, then followed the stronger urges into the puddles scattered throughout the house. Their shame and ridiculousness washed away as the cruel house they had known was replaced with a lush environment of black stone and shining bronze filled with a bubbling fluid that eased their fall. Yet, they were given no time to admire the views before Blude appeared to free them from their bonds.


    Like they were thrown on an assembly line, Blude took them to be bathed and clothed before her direct subordinates took them in sequence. Their injuries and ailments were treated by Kali before Gwehn assessed their capabilities, then Lizlee took them to gather intel and give briefings to the growing masses. Intelligence gathering continued as they passed through Redd''s domain, who picked their minds for hidden vaults, caches, and other architectural secrets while Jayde documented the numbers and figures of what Zimysta''s wealthiest house held. Only then did they enter Sam''s grandiose hall, where they were blessed with the privilege of being the first mortals to witness the perks of her Bardic Monk class.


    The ambiance served to ease their minds as they were seated, whereas the music picked up to lift their spirits. The sizzling sounds of searing rothay caught their ears before their noses pulled them to Sam, demonstrating how to cook a perfect steak meal while her subordinates replicated the dish a hundred times over in the kitchen. Their wonder turned to reverence at the thought of eating such a meal; some for the first time in their lives. Yet, the many drow present remained skeptical; doubly so once Sam poured her victual magic over the platters, making potatoes pop with golden radiance and their portions double. They thought them poisoned, despite her explaining their effect. Steak unlocked their potentials, mashed mushrooms reversed the damage done to their bodies, cave pike gave them a day''s worth of healing, cave roots heightened their abilities, and the desserts, blessed by me, turned them into paragons, including several humans who became more ape like in response.


    They left with their spirits inflamed by Sam''s performance and all but stormed through the domains of Sam''s subordinates, Emily and Chloala, who filled them with combat drugs like cocaine and amphetamines before arming them with magical items strong enough to raze villages. They left the Estates in mobs and emerged from the puddles they disappeared through in small teams. Relishing their newfound power, they predictably sought to return the pain that''d been inflicted on them tenfold or more, keeping the drow distracted with their chaos while Raki delved deeper into the house, laying traps and wards as she snuck along.


    As spells and slaves spread in Raki''s wake, abyssal waters spread in theirs. Black wellsprings shot forth like water jet cutters to collapse the paths behind her and flood the halls before her. Ahead, spiders writhed in fury, sending the drow they dominated into a state of madness. They pushed against the arcana to form bubbles around their bodies or outright manifested air from the water and gave chase, using tenacity and arcana to fight the currents sweeping through the house. As things went, they were too infuriated to notice the aqueous hands of Blude''s Umbra Emperor pulling their wealth into the dark depths. The entirety of it went to Jayde, back in their estates, who sorted the bounty appropriately, discarding the things with too much demonic energy and forwarding the items that would aid the slaves in their battle for liberation.


    In the interim, Zimysta Falls began its nightly silent ritual; though not by nature''s demand. Not entirely.


    Jayde''s Matriarch, Redd, was poised before the Falls, using manipulation more than her sorcery to will the immense volume of fluid into a stagnant mass of ice and stone that expanded into Zimysta''s maw, spilling jagged shards of ice over the main entrance to mark the official beginning of its end.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    As easily as I melded with this darkness, Redd willed the frozen lake to rise like a glacial geyser, shooting countless tons of rock and ice higher and higher until they smashed through the ceiling to torment the houses carved beneath them. Then the ice surrounding her shattered as she dashed, leaving a semi-frozen tunnel in her wake as she gracefully swam through the entrance, holding her hand out before her to push a snaking stream of ice ahead of her.


    Redd poured her sorcery through the great eel of ice as it coiled through the entrance, morphing its jagged frame into a smooth body headed with rows of jagged teeth that greedily sank into Zimysta''s 2nd eye. Disregarding those scattered atop it, Redd swam through her ice field, occasionally breaching the surface to harpoon or catch spiders in her net and drag them to their gelid graves while the glacial eel''s teeth continued freezing the surroundings solid. Inside, the drow of House Casia-Psellus and the lesser House Baerrn felt the ripples of the Mafia''s actions, yet were hardly effected, doing little more than stumbling in place as they followed long-established protocols to secure sensitive items, evacuate key personnel, and catch up to the anomalous figure parading through the house.


    As she had been before, Raki had been moving with the indignant confidence Welvd''al would have possessed in that situation. The slaves'' thinning numbers gave her a wider berth than ever as she delved closer to the Matron''s sacred chambers, noted by the stark transition from blue faerie flames to red fires set within onyx sconces stabbed into that waxy resin at regular intervals. Yet, that meant nothing in the face of Welvd''al''s sisters. All of them.


    "There you are, worm." The eldest, High Priestess Iivxyra, hissed, ignoring Raki completely as she concentrated on the divine webs restraining the 5th and 6th daughters while the 2nd daughter led them through a copy of the wicked door I saw in House Za''Darmondiel.


    Being two heads taller than Welvd''al and wreathed in adamantine armor with a mithral-weave tabard, she was quite a threat to the disgusted Raki; her, and High Priestess Iymssysn to boot.


    "The worm has become First Son only because Divdiirn is a traitor." Priestess Jankiira snickered while Priestess Elvyl''cice stalked the disguised Raki from afar; lesser threats, given their chitinous armor and mithral weave robes, yet threats all the same. Her one solace was that there were no spiders.


    "How fleeting that is." The 4th daughter hissed from her stalking position, blade dripping with as much venom as her words. "A shame you couldn''t be the one to end him."


    "Hounonia and Ginssysn have failed to secure the House from our eternal enemy. Your source of revenue - your only use has fallen. Thus, you are all failures."Jankiira grinned wickedly as her elder sisters disappeared down Lilith''s web, their voices being the only things discernible beyond the crimson veil.


    "Do not take long."


    I felt a candle of uncertainty light within Raki before she snuffed it out, steeling herself to remain as indignant yet submissive as Welvd''al would be; at least until the Priestesses acted.


    Jankiira reached back and leapt before her sister could pounce, concentrating the crackling arcana into her palm to forge a mace from her spirit and swipe it across Raki''s disguised maw.


    Raki staggered from the impact but remained standing, sneering as the mana infused in and around her face fizzled in and out of existence before cascading away, causing Welvd''al''s visage to shift and crack back into Raki''s bleeding maw and snarling face. Then it was her turn.


    Raki stomped forward, cocking a backhand that even a child could see coming. Thus, the high priestess sought an easy block with a raised arm. Being imbued with the density and strength of Rippa, however, made Raki anything but easy.


    Jankiira''s arm crumpled beneath Raki''s ultra-dense fist, forcing jagged bone out the skin to push against the sleeve of her mithral-threaded robe, as if that would protect her from the energy transfer rippling down her shoulder to liberate her of her footholds and send her skipping across the cavern, right into the healing webs of a demon spider. Despite the web, Raki bolstered herself to pursue; then, Raki became the Rippa, allowing the divine magic ingrained within her spirit to take root and bloom.


    She haunched forward as her skin took on an onyx hue, highlighting the growing knot on her brow that demanded her body follow suit by stretching the skin on her back and having it filled by dense connective tissue. A blanket of compact muscle and blubber filled in her thickened skin, stretched into webs between her fingers and toes and elongated down her backside to form her dorsal fin and a wide tail, lazily descending to the ground as it took shape.


    The flicking of her tail pushed against the ambient arcana as if it was water, forcing the flow retrograde relative to her pouncing advance toward Elvyl''cice.


    Showing her experience, the priestess allowed herself to be carried by the current and dove into it, her mana forged scimitars poised before her like crossed fangs. Before they could meet Raki''s lowered head, however, the air was shattered by a shrill whistle that reverberated through the house like an eldritch song.


    Amplified by the watery arcana, the call shattered the stone and the priestess'' eardrums alike and hardly muffled as it echoed through the Falls, chased, as it were, by the abyssal waters spewing from Raki''s blow hole.


    The priestesses were blown back by the umbral geyser and crumpled against the door leading to Lilith''s temple, mimicking the stone shattering around the threshold to reveal a foundation of waxy resin akin to the hives of House Yril''Lysaen. Then the tide took them, crushing them and everything in its path as Raki raised the pressure to abyssal depths.


    The abyssal waters were similar to Peter''s fusion of water with water, as his ability was the natural version of Raki''s sorcery - waters so deep and with such pressure that it was like darkness itself. A crushing shadow, indiscriminate in nature.


    It wreaked havoc as it spread through the house, filling every vent and pipe to flow where few could traverse and crush all who faced it; all but the Orcinus Mafia.


    Raki''s call had sent them into action, with Redd being the first to fully transform and plague the frozen eye of the 2nd House. Her colossal form breached the ice wherever spiders roamed, barreling into them from below to bite at their legs and drag them into the frozen depths. Meanwhile, Blude swam through one of her puddles and transformed into Chako to wade about the sea growing from the drowning house. Her cold eyes watched spiders trapped in webbed bubbles churn about, flailing in vain attempts to save themselves from the absurd pressure and give themselves a chance to breathe. Her massive form added to the carnage as she barreled through the heartiest of structures with ease, throwing contemptuous trills at the spiders and many drow, popping like balloons to stain her waters with their filth. The lazy waves of her tail sent green and beige arcana lapping over the ruins as she passed, seeding the rubble with fields of swaying kelp with yellow bulbs that shed a stark light on the clusters of coral colonizing the house. Yet, part of her awareness remained focused on the furthest reaches of the house, where the Rippa was bent on delivering the final blow to the priestess who didn''t flee.


    Raki slammed her tail and lunged forth at a shocking speed for one of her size, crossing several meters in a flash with her scimitars raised high. While wounded, Priestess Jankiira raised an arcane shield faster than Raki''s flash and it shattered, filling the space between them with countless shards of dissipating energy that Raki reached through without hesitation.


    Jankiira''s head snapped back as Raki''s webbed fingers gripped it and tugged, sending cracks rippling down her spine as her feet separated from the ground. Effortlessly, Raki lifted her overhead and reached to grasp onto her other arm and pulled. She tugged and stopped as the mithral threads of Jankiira''s robe pulled taught - as did the priestess, who thrashed and coughed up a fit of blood while Raki, uncaring of Jankiira''s plight, adjusted her grip to grasp an arm and a leg, and when she pulled again, there was much less resistance.


    One moment, Priestess Jankiira was there, then even Raki was gone, having been concealed within a cloud of blood and stretched out intestines.


    The gore soon cleared as Raki''s flow tapered off. The house had been filled, or at the very least, the pressure had equalized. Thus, Elvyl''cice, who allowed the flow to carry her past Lilith''s door and either escape or protect her mother''s treasure, washed up on the shores of the Matron''s vault.


    The massive adamantine safe had been Raki''s destination from the beginning. Yet, she was not meant to be the first to make it there. That was reserved for Sam, who''d trailed and surpassed Raki to unweave wards and lay traps of her own making. And now that Raki had felled her prey, the time had come for the young drow to use Welvd''al''s memories to unlock the safe with a mana crafted key. Once open, Sam treated the house like a gastrointestinal problem and released her traps in two ways, sending the safe''s contents through an interdimensional vent to Jayde while the other vent cured the House of its cold constipation.


    The spike in pressure shattered Redd''s frozen expanse as if it was never there, releasing a geyser of water to fire across Zimysta''s length and fall to overshoot the basin by several meters, plaguing the Fall with enough rain and splatter to make Sovereign Galendra return a growl of dissatisfaction.


    A growl I echoed; albeit for different reasons.

 416 - Darkheart

    As Rickley''s Bolero tapered off to silence moments before, so too did the Mafia''s geyser dwindle to a steady stream that rippled down the walls to Zimysta''s basin, now filled almost to the pedicel with dark blue, almost violet waters. It was entirely too much water, according to Cononthoth, but it would soon drain. Her growling was unjustified whining; mine was warranted, for I had to guide my closest followers into the belly of a demonic spider, but not before the Black Plume made its history.


    So it was; I surveyed the cavern a final time, comparing what had been to what was now - the transition to something greater; passing my eye up and down, from left to right, until they settled on the arcane tower a few dozen meters behind me, in the pedicel.


    With his horniness slapped aside by the shell shock of the powerful seed sown within him, Eban seemed much smaller in his tower. Now that he could see through this pervasive darkness, his many-ringed fingers rubbed each other nervously as he glanced beyond the windows, taking in the sundered sights of everything he''d ever known. The roaring of water, the acrid stench of burnt hair and charred flesh; lingering chemicals and fading tunes; the clacking of bone creatures and the groans of the dead, all mixed with Sovereign Galendra''s snickering and the chattering of spiders. All things considered, I couldn''t blame him. Lilith''s divine mana had been reduced to a concentrated point within her tower, while mine, although less powerful, was spread from the First Sanctuary in the Rharian Deep Dark to here, connected by a taproot of twilight spread by the First Druid. And so, now came the time for the second Twilight Sanctuary to rise from the rubble of Zimysta Falls.


    It began with the absorption of Eban''s tower. The shadows seemed to overtake it as it withered, shrinking to the size of Eban''s many rings and, in turn, widening the convex junction in Zimysta''s center into a concave face of darkness. Then, with a few words exchanged, Sovereign Galendra turned to meet my eyes and faded into wisps of shadow, appearing by my side a moment later.


    So it was; Eban drifted to and landed on the ceiling overlooking the basin with Iris, in a clearing of violet and black moss canopied by the gilded overarching branches of the Darklight Forest. He tentatively greeted the rest of the Troupe before Reina and Rickley dismissed themselves, giving Eban a first row seat to what I viewed from afar. Although, unlike me, his mind wasn''t racing, rambling about rewards and unholy items for the Plume and wondering what horrors I would soon face from Lilith''s most fanatical followers.


    Rickley stood off to the side within a few steps and positioned herself to add a subtle but fitting ambiance to Reina, stepping toward the first and largest tree with Limy and Tava trailing her. It was a bit like a water lily, if the stem was the size of a tree trunk and the flower was like a radar dish, spewing out spore-like seeds like pollen caught in the wind. When Reina stopped before it, the stamen stalks ceased their wavering for the first time since it sprouted with a great shudder, causing the clouds of spores to cascade over those gathered.


    It formed something like an aura as it stopped short of their skin, then began swirling as Limy and Tava began chanting, making their auras rise and fall with Reina''s hand, drawing a line down the center of the stem. Unlike the Troupe, I saw more than that gilded line crease the stem, making it fold inward on itself. I saw that line force a growth spurt in the taproot Reina formed and watched it pierce the Darkworld like a heavenly spear, phasing through uncountable volumes of degenerate stone until it reached that sacred place in the Deep Dark.


    There, in that sanctuary built what felt like so long ago, a pair of crimson eyes settled on a vertical black line splitting the bark of those intertwined trees. She stepped through without delay and fell, tumbled through a starry expanse for an endless second before her foot found solid ground once again; and after a few swift steps, the Twilight Empress stood between Reina and Limy, with Tava close behind her.


    Like an owl inspecting a potential nest, Opal scanned the fallen eyes and legs of Zimysta. Her doll-like visage was unchanging as it moved from hollowed sphere after sphere, noting the magma, water, ice, and fumes leaking into the cavern before her eyes rose to the Queen Demon Spider''s temple.


    Unlike most in this cavern - even me - she could almost innately feel the divine power radiating from the cruel spire jutting from the ceiling, giving her a sense of G''eldantaar''s superstructure embedded in the bedrock above. True to its position, it was like a crown of blades - or rather, a bladed halo encircling that central spire. One that rose and repeated in concentric circles like a sadistic pine tree growing from a crimson jewel.


    Seeing it made us react in differing ways. I started off at an amiable pace toward the tower, relying on the spurts of ki from my feet to give me footholds where none existed while Sovereign Galendra lazily orbited me. Opal, on the other hand, requested Reina''s assistance and detached from the ceiling to drift down to the basin.


    Wreathed in the legendary armor I made for her, Opal looked like a veritable star in the dark as the gilded Faerie Flames enveloping G''eldantaar reflected off the Starscale in her armor, casting crepuscular clouds and projecting illusory nebulae across the ceiling. They swayed and rippled from the lazy flaps of her wings, rising from her lower back to kick out like the knee of a harp, occluding almost all eyes from the sight of her armor''s Stargrave, soaking in the twilight to corrupt it into a necrotic darkness that made the undead beneath her settle with a silent shudder.


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    While Opal and Tava floated above, Reina and Limy descended to the basin and fell beneath the inky surface, the former sinking like a water-logged stump rather than a rock that dragged the undying shadow down with her. Hardly any sediment lifted from their landing - a far cry from the energies released above and below.


    It began with Opal and Tava, gurgling arcane blood while murmuring a long-winded prayer about corruption and rebirth. Arms clasped in prayer, looking up at me, they looked mad on the brink of death, suffering from grievous wounds that saw gallons of blood spew from their maws. Yet the prayers continued, and with such a fervor that the sound sent ripples through their black blood as it leaked down their armor and robes, soaking it in divine and necrotic energies until it eventually dripped into the abyssal waters.


    Seconds later, Reina started an offering to nature via a dance of sorts. Her mind eased, her hands swayed, and her body moved in ways that called to nature''s bounty, all while her flesh, floral, and life magic radiated from her frame in waves.


    First came her flesh magic, which gave the dark waters a certain bloody essence that mixed readily with the Vampyric blood dripping in. Using manipulation, Limy took hold of the bloody water and, with Reina''s aid, brute forced it through the stone. Bubbles broke apart the lake''s surface as if it was boiling as it seeped in, cascading through whatever vacant pockets existed until it reached its maximum pressure, wherein Reina released her second wave.


    The second wave was an influx of floral magic that attacked the crepuscular plants at a fundamental level, changing their preferences to that of the bloodied waters swamping their roots in ways that made them almost sentient. Their roots surged toward the saturated stone, greedily guzzling the eldritch fluid and causing the basin to drain in record time. Left with nothing to sustain them, the arcane flora collectively shuddered before slowly wilting and withering. Yet, Reina had more to give; a crimson and green wave of fused floral and flesh magic that radiated from her frame.


    From its influence, the gilded trees withered and unraveled into tendrils that regressed into the stone, barreling and boring for dozens of meters until they reached an arbitrary barrier and amalgamated into a thick layer of leafy fat and woody tissue. The violet plants followed, filling the space between the woody epicardium and the cavern''s inner wall with thickly muscled vines stacked atop one another like geological striations, capped with a layer of black moss compressed into a layer of silky tissue.


    Reina released her final wave as the last flowers shifted to mimic flesh, ensuring not a single cell was forsaken by her life magic; subtle, though the effect may have been. More of a pulse than a wave, it jolted the layers of muscle enveloping the falls in a way that made the ceiling buckle and quake as it spasmed, then flexed with enough power to dislodge the many stalagmites and stalactites spread across its surface. The flex attacked more than the outcroppings, however. It affected my spirit, crunching my cores to make electromagnetic mana and darkness flow from my spirit and fuse into twilit lightning; and as it did in the Tower of Might, it radiated from my skull like a nebulous tesla coil, sending golden lightning dancing across the fleshy flora - a defibrillator to jump start the newly formed Darkheart.


    Thump-thump. Thump.


    While the ritual had ended, the effects had yet to be set in stone. Only about 10 minutes had passed and 6 times that remained, for the Darkheart had no blood to pump. And yet, the result was still the same.


    What was once a cavern shaped in the likeness of a spider was now a multi-layered complex hollowed with the many chambers and tunnels of a heart, with veins and arteries made from Nydorden, Reina''s taproot, and G''eldantaar''s soon to be corpse. Rather than a cavern of chaos, it was now like a dormant reactor, one that would take light from above and darkness from below, merge them in this Darkheart, and send the resulting twilight along the pulmonary artery to what would become Cononthoth''s lair. There, in that crepuscular pocket, she would absorb the twilight and replace it with gloom, putting her one step further down her divine Draconic evolution and releasing her gloomy essence to be pumped back through the heart. And from twilight to gloom, it would flow out of the aorta and into Shujen''s Underground and Darkworld.


    Not just Shujen would change as a result, but Bodhi Peninsula as a whole; from the Deep Dark to the worlds woven above.


    With her job done, Opal turned to Reina with a request to look after Karu and took flight over the Falls. Joined by Limy and Tava, she came screeching to a halt before me and Sovereign Galendra, just a few hundred meters from G''eldantaar, saluting proudly.


    "Glad you could join us." I dryly smiled, returning the gesture.


    To which Opal bowed. "The pleasure is mine, my Liege."


    Saying nothing more, I turned, allowing Sovereign Galendra to come up on my right while Opal stayed on my left, with Limy and Tava trailing behind.


    To my surprise, the one to greet us was the one I wanted to see the least - Yela, Etyl''s 2nd daughter. Her mind was in control of 188 centimeters of drow sadism with over 3 centuries of experience of thriving in this shit hole. Her daughters; Nym, Nyx, Naphyss, Shaenya, and Schyrl were lesser versions of her in varying ways; even Daulery, given the ruthlessness she displayed in taking back what was hers. If there was anyone who''d throw shit at the fan, it was her. My only solace was the predatory glare Opal gave her. As, like Daulery, those traits would be of significant benefit in death.


    "Circumstances aside, we did not expect you to arrive with so many." She sang in our mother tongue. "Our task was to allow you and you alone to enter."


    "Such is the folly of expectations, Yela," I said dryly, much to her chagrin. "If I am to meet Lilith''s Matrons, High Priestesses, and clerics, they shall meet mine. That is the condition."


    "Your conditions are not our concern."


    ''Ugh! I''m too old for this shit.'' I internally groaned, shrugging as I turned away. "Very well."


    "W- you wouldn''t just leave at this most important time? Our tasks are-"


    "Your tasks are of no concern to me, Yela." I waved over my shoulder. "I have much more important things to do than these petty games with you. Goodbye."


    "So it seems." I heard a pained groan echo from behind me, followed by a growl. "Enter. All of you."


    Holding back a grin, I faced about and floated toward the threshold while willing the shadows around my feet to retreat. And, for the first time in my life, the taps of my footsteps echoed hauntingly to mortal ears.

 417 - Drow Clerics

    Naphyss Za''Darmondiel.


    Cleric of Lilith, Domain of Chaos.


    ***


    Lilith, most high, was indomitable. In all of my 233 years of living, that had always remained true. Thus, it would only stand that she be undeniably indomitable once these times had passed. These times, foretold by the ever-wise Matrons when I was but in my third decade - a mere child. Elg-Horr - The Destroyer - would cull our species just as our ancestors culled the filth from Youtera after closing those accursed gates. That remained true. Yet, it was done in ways even the Matrons could not foresee.


    His mere presence caused the traitors lurking in the shadows to turn coat; to denounce their love for the demon spider; declare their lack of faith to their Matrons; forsake their Goddess; to be sacrificed. So too did his destroyers remove the filth from these Falls. The House of Hun''ana, who claimed to be so powerful yet fell by the hands of a sole human. My sister, Daulery, who outlived her usefulness; and my aunt, Mala, who voiced her disdain for our glorious Goddess. Those acts and others were carried out flawlessly, hidden beneath the veil of magical darkness Elg-Horr spread throughout these Falls. Even our house fell - all of them did. Yet, we had only commendations to give, for only rubble remained to be claimed by the victor; and from it, something indomitable would be born. Thus bringing us to now.


    Thus bringing me here, to the uppermost reaches of the Crimson Web Pits with yet another group of failures. Males and the weak females of our house, stripped bare and led by my sisters, Nym and Nyx.


    It was both an opportunity to praise our Goddess and a means to pry more information out of the House Abbot. Thus, I marched them higher and higher at a dutiful pace, ensuring my spiders stayed close on their heels. Yet, I could not shake the sinking feeling that arose from the prisoners peering through the windows. Something bold burned in their eyes, yet all there was to return their stare was the abyss. Not even the great Falls deafened Zimysta with its glory. There was only a haunting silence that seemed to carry the gaze of a hundred eyes. To an extent, it even drowned out the screams of failure. Those in these very pits, bitten and interrogated and made to change into abominations as these failures were fated to. Yet, they traveled as far as they needed to all the same.


    When he first arrived, the Crimson Web Pits dragged the House Abbot - the first son of House Za''Darmondiel - to its center, where we could watch the red silk tear into his flesh without pause. Though it too was now pitched in eternal darkness, the eyes of our spiders could see through the devil''s darkness with clarity. Thus, all others were placed around him and illuminated with Faerie Flames just as he was, granting both us and them a means to sense through this abyssal night.


    Dutifully, I kicked those failures into their pit and was beginning to follow my spider to the Abbot''s when a bell''s low toll reverberated through the darkness to shake my very soul still. Yet it droned on, shaking the spiders, their webs, and the stone hidden beneath them until something echoed back.


    A bang preceded my mother''s exit from the Abbot''s pit with my cousin at a dutiful pace. Me and my sisters joined them without an exchange of words or hand signs; as was the case throughout the whole of G''eldantaar, for any words would have been overshadowed by the maddening screams of the dead, and the whispers leaking through the shadows kept our hands at the ready, always. They intensified as we arrived at the entrance, yet they came not from an army of rebellious drow gathered at the grand entrance, nor legions of the undead. Everyone with a station of priestess or higher gathered with their superiors before the doors, watching the black orb limned in a golden radiance hang ominously in the distance. All but one. The Eldest Matron of the Eldest House.


    As I was certain of it being for all drow present, the sight all but forced me to recount everything that had transpired since his long-awaited arrival - a flashy display that got everyone in the Falls spinning tales of Elg-Horr and the destroyers he created. Then, not a day later, that blue wave robbed the Falls of its mycelium web - our security network and the Fall''s primary food source. Dust plagued the cavern, the great Falls turned into a slide of muck and our stock of meat - the rothay - sought to migrate. Then came the darkness; magical, and thus unable to be seen through by the like of us. Yet our spiders revealed the truth.


    Our spiders told us of Amun, spending a tenday in Mii''etus Praesyris, learning drow swordsmanship and passing on knowledge to Two-Heart before he turned coat and Amun destroyed the tower. Then he went to Arcanis Praesyris to meet our Heart Keeper, where they watched the Eyes and Legs of Zimysta Fall. That was yesterday. And now, when he was supposed to be spending nine more days in the arcane tower, he was here.


    He made himself known to all. Not by casting aside his darkness, but by illuminating himself from within. And not only him, the radiant sphere coated in darkness cast an oppressive glow across the entire cavern, bringing all to witness the strange beings of life and death gathered around him. Including the likes of that monstrous female drow.


    She was with him at first. Then she disappeared sometime over the last few days. Soon after, many young priestesses in training were reported missing. Though the weak disappearing was unimportant, some of the supposed strong were never seen again - the daughters of Matrons Noqutyl and Abaeir; again unimportant to everyone except those Matrons. Now, however, she was present once more and thus these matters were important to us all; for her very presence served as a test of faith - a fact she knew and displayed proudly in her powerful strides.


    She and thus he knew our goal was to align Elg-Horr with the Queen Demon Spider. To make our faith in her stronger and to take command of the useless males, sending them across the surface to spread Lilith''s glory to all corners of all realms. And so, like Ilar, Raki, and Ruel, our great Goddess tested our faith in the Spider using Elg-Horr''s champions - the baleful lesser creatures and this¡­ child of pure, dreadful darkness. A child of the Destroyer. Or, perhaps a partner, dressed in the same dark feathers worn around her mate and pampered with rings, bracelets and jewelry of dark crystals and gold. Even now, we could not discern her relation to him. Yet all could discern his relation to us, for at last, he wore his brooch, once worn by the great Etym. Yet, even without it, he captured our eyes in more ways than one.


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    He was a drow unlike any other, with skin a deep brown rather than midnight black, ashen gray, silvery blue, or grayed violet. He had silver, almost radiant hair instead of white, and white irises with Draconic pupils lined in dissimilar radiances. Blue-white around one and gold around the other. Radiant blue veins stretched up his arms like tattoos, and around his wrists were dissimilar tattoos of an Abyssal nature, appearing like rogue brands. His fingers were blacker than black, with white nails sharpened into fine points like the horns sprouting from his head, held behind a diadem of divine sigils and arcane flame that flickered silently, illuminating his indignantly placid visage for all to witness.


    An Elven Devil, true and true.


    Our moment of awe ended with a sourceless song of prayer, illuminating our eyes to allow us to sense the benevolence and malevolence swirling within him. Divine grace and fortuitous wickedness, living in harmony. Elements of the Underworld and the Faewoods staring each other down; coupled with a reaction of mana unlike any of which we had ever seen.


    So too was this¡­ contradiction found in his followers. Both this crude drow and the creatures in their wake - the black feathered things perched atop their shoulders, seeming to act as guides to the two pale women and the undead shadow. Vampyr, two of them at least, one dressed in a feathered robe and the other donned in a heavy battle dress of gold and sparkling mithral, leading a bald, pale woman wrapped in silks and leathers and an undying shadow of the Nox. Far beneath them, however, was what truly caught our eye. The largest precession of drow Nonus had ever seen. Tens of thousands of them, ranging from the filth in the basin to those who fell from the eight Eyes and Legs, accompanied by hundreds of thousands of slaves, all urged forward by the undying legion that rose to the call of that accursed tone.


    How glorious it would have been, when those drow, arranged by house in the courts beneath G''eldantaar, witnessed the moment Elg-Horr declared his love for the Demon Spider. Yet, long before he stepped food here, there were endless whispers implying he would not. And worse, there were many murmurs that declared their love for him instead. Murmurs that went without punishment.


    I held my faith that our beloved Goddess could not waste her time with such filth at this most legendary time, thus neither could we. Instead, I could only hold my poise as my mother finally met the Champion''s cohort face to face, overlooked by the Priestesses and High Priestesses of G''eldantaar.


    "Welcome, Destroyer and company, to Lilith''s Web. I am High Priestess Yela Za''Darmondiel. Rejoice! For on this momentous day, you will be the first male in history to witness the glory of our great Goddess, Lilith."


    While I did not know what I expected, it was undoubtedly more than him simply dipping his head and saying monotonously, "I am honored."


    Like the rest of us, Mother Yela masked her disdain by turning deeper into the temple. Then removed it from her voice entirely as she began speaking. "While the first four daughters of any Matron are compelled to enter these grand halls, all other drow females are treated the same as in the other towers. They must prove their worth to enter these halls. Not only through tests of might. Through tests of knowledge and devotion."


    Amun took the information in strides. He hardly even looked at any of us. Instead, he peered down every hall and gazed into every room we passed by without the slightest hint of emotion, no matter what he saw. Young acolytes testing their devotion in Hellfire; the ritualistic nesting of companion spiders in the new priestesses'' ears and throats; webbing rituals; he looked upon them all with no reaction other than a few noticeably slow blinks. That changed only when Mother Yela began speaking of our Great Goddess'' history of betrayal, wherein he unblinkingly gazed into her eyes in ways that nearly made her stutter.


    "W-" She deftly caught herself. "From the great Trees of Life came the first beings to exist in every realm. Dragons from Nonus; Fae from Youtera; Fiends from Vagua; Giants from Niflheim. Orcish filth from Betrarth. Humanoids from Maru. Being capable of birthing new life on their own, those first beings proliferated their realms until they came to be known as deities. However, it took not long for these deities to bicker. Petty squabbling, in their eyes - themselves and the primordials - yet utter annihilation to the eyes of the lesser beings they created; though not yet mortals. This time is known as the Rending. Among the children of Youtera, our great Lilith was the Goddess of Oracles, Fate, Change, and Dark Elves. With such powers at her disposal, she foresaw the end of the Rending that had begun across the realms. As such, she wanted her siblings to neither remain on the Mortal Plane nor imprison themselves within their divine realms. She wished for all deities to leave the Mortal Plane in search of the lifeless domains in the distant heavens. Places they would be free to sow new Trees of Life. Yet our great Goddess was alone in her endeavor. Thus, she used her powers to change the fate she witnessed.


    "Betrayal was her reward." Mother Yela nearly sneered. "The war of wits infected the mind of the third son, resulting in the murder of Lilith''s second daughter, Za. His deception resulted in the great Lilith''s imprisonment in the Old Infernal Plane - that which is now Nergal''s Underworld - wherein her domains of Oracles and Change were corrupted into that of Deception and Chaos. As a result, our great Goddess'' first daughter was forced to retreat into the Darkworld until the end of the Rending, when the legendary daughter of Lilith, the First Matron, Darmondiel, emerged to fell her traitorous brother and forsake his name. His death freed our Goddess from her prison. Yet, her siblings had grown immensely in power. They forced her into her divine realm, the Crimson Web Labyrinth. Thus, Darmondiel took the remaining sons of Lilith, subjugating them as a punishment for their failure to stop their brother, and merged her name with her late sister''s to give rise to House Za''Darmondiel.


    "Trapped in the Darkworld, however, the cursed radiation found within this realm slowly corrupted the dark elves. Since, we have been known as drow; elves harmed by the light of day, spread across the Darkworld, where we hone ourselves in wait of the time we can reclaim our rightful place on the surface."


    "Until Telin''s intervention." Amun suddenly spoke; something deserving of punishment, were it not He who said it. "When Telin did his tinkering - when I met him - she worked with her siblings for the first and only time to learn what he wanted - the Elves of Youtera, mindlessly obsessing over me."


    ''That is what he cares of?'' I internally sneered. To be in this magnificent temple and not even have a reaction to our Goddess'' history of betrayal was unthinkable. But I reminded myself of my duties and pressed forward behind my mother.


    "Even before his¡­ intervention, all drow have been led to compete with one another to gain an edge over their peers, thus gaining more status in their Houses. Houses compete for a place among the Eight Eyes and Legs. And those Eyes and Legs compete amongst each other for the most blessings from our beloved Goddess. Only then can we remain strong in body and mind within this dangerous realm. Thus, station is everything to drow. Something I''m sure a Nox devil can agree with."


    "If that''s what you think of devils, you''re sorely mistaken." Amun snorted with unbridled contempt.


    I turned to him, sneering, but the large woman''s laughter stopped me short. "Perhaps you should teach her. Or take her to the Abyss and show her."


    "That comes later." Amun smirked as he side eyed an approaching spider with interest. "For now, we are to meet your High Priestesses. And you are to meet mine."

 418 - Drow High Priestesses

    High Priestess Nadra Za''Darmondiel.


    High Cleric of Lilith, Domain of Fate.


    ***


    ''He comes.''


    My signs came and went as quickly as the gossamer string passing by my gaze, granting me sight of a monstrous drow and a devilish elf, following one of our spiders as it struggled with each step. Thus, I took one last look at this historic chamber of marble and web. It appeared so different, both now and in the moments to come. A once glorious hall of the most-high, filled with her most-devoted, reduced to a glowing pit of dread occupied by lingering shadows that clung to heads and feet alike.


    I snapped back to the door just as my daughters yelled. "Enter!"


    Their calls preceded a rasp knock. Yet a great crash followed, produced by a chitinous leg of armored flesh. A great demon spider, leading the way for my little sister and her family, leading those legends at their tails.


    "Who are they?" came my demand.


    "Limy." A living shadow with strange markings covering her flesh announced with a bow. Followed by the bald deep gnome in leather standing in the most relaxed pose beside her.


    "Kele."


    My brow rose in interest. But then the vampires spoke.


    "I am Tava. A Contour Feather of the Black Plume." The one in fine feathered robes bowed elegantly. "The equivalent of what you would call a Matron."


    "And I am Opal of the Blackblood, Twilight Empress of the Brightest Night. First Cleric of the Elven Devil."


    "And you?" I turned to the massive drow.


    "Sovereign Galendra." She cunningly smiled.


    I sneered. "Sovereign of what?"


    "The place in which you so comfortably sit and all the places surrounding it." She smiled, and I felt my rage mounting.


    "You dare-"


    "SILENCE!"


    I felt the intrusion of magic worm from behind me to seal my lips shut. At once, I wheeled around to see Matron Etyl staring at me, not her, with eyes of pure malice. "Elg-Horr." She said with unnerving calm, her eyes slowly shifting back to him. "I ask, what kind of God are you? What does it mean to be, Eternal?"


    Amun sighed, rolling his eyes. "To be the Eternal means I''m to be tortured, eternally, from this year onward. Tortured by fanatical elves and their laughing gods for the rest of my days, all because Telin made you obsess over me for a few centuries."


    "How could we not? It was an act of providence unseen in the Mortal Plane''s history. The creator spoke to us! The Elves of Youtera! All elves scattered across the Mortal Plane learned of you on the same day. At the same time-"


    "And while you came together for a time - at least in Youtera - you still couldn''t agree on what was to come, thus you splintered and fractured, devolving into your prior state; if not regressing." He snorted, contempt rippling off his arcane diadem. "But would you like to know why he chose elves, Matron Etyl? Telin intervened because he was impressed by the elves'' reverse engineering his gates in such a short time. In fact, it made him think he made elves too capable, but he didn''t tinker with you like he did humanity. He wove webs in your minds meant to catch a bug of obsession, creating a meal that will be quite difficult for me to ingest, if only to ensure my time here would be neither heaven nor hell. Neither a paradise nor a punishment.


    "And, let it be known, Telin did not send me here for any purpose. Unlike you all, I am free. Free to live as I see fit. Free to choose my purpose. And the purpose I chose is to explore, experience, and learn about this universe. Not to bring about an era of magical prowess like the high elves think. Not to bridge the gap between civilization and nature, like the wild elves think. Not to crusade against your kind as your eternal enemy, bringing about an era of prowess through the vehicle of war. I do like to have my fun, however, and while those things may happen one way or another, they will not trump my ultimate goal; nor will they threaten it.


    "Anything that does will be fucking destroyed." He said with a simplistic finality that left my teeth grating. Yet my attention was ensnared by the larger, more eldritch feathered creature drifting from his shoulder to land at his feet, shuddering in place before the darkness at his feet darkened some more, rose, and coalesced into an identical copy of him, dressed in a feathered robe just as he was.


    "As for what type of God I am?" They smiled in unison. "I''m a walking contradiction."


    The shadow, the priestess and the cleric began moving to the terrace, chanting, praying, pouring golden light into the sphere of darkness beyond, liming it in radiant light while they sang.


    "The Elven Devil." voiced the clone. Followed by the original. "The Devil of the Fae." Then they both chanted. "One side of the supreme being that is Amun, God of Mana. Eternal Champion of this universe''s creator. Architect of the Arcane."


    "I am sure you have seen it." That Vampyr matron cackled. "The many methods of change and the vast interpretations of freedom. Light and darkness. Magic or technology. Celestials and devils. Life or death. Corruption!" She spread her arms, lifting them in tune with the rapidly growing shadows born from the light above. "Purification!"


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    "Duality!" The Twilight Empress declared, signaling a deluge of purple rain to pour upward from the glowing darkness to create a blacker-than-black puddle on the distant walls. Then came motes of light to fill it in. "The guiding light in the night, the darkness occluding the light."


    "The Purveyor of Gloom." The huge drow chimed in, forcing her essence into that dark grove with the most subtle of words.


    It fed the darkness like the growl of an ancient beast feeding fear in the hearts of mortals, forcing itself into the walls, outcroppings, and distant structures until all there was to see was a million motes of light scattered in a ring around the unearthed divine tree. It expanded in every direction, and nothing was safe from its threatening rumble, for it burrowed through everything in its path. Rubble was ripped from the ground and left spinning in midair, hanging precariously above the many onlookers as if they were caught in a mass levitation spell.


    An army of beasts stampeded through the motes as we watched. More of those sleek things, but also giant rodents and burrowing creatures. Even insects, as well as spiders. Spiders, both demonic and not. Fighting.


    Every lesser spider in the Falls that used to be, it seemed, rushed to that point in the far distance without as much as a word to us priestesses. Even our lessor, companion spiders. No matter how much we prayed or pleaded for an explanation, no matter how much the demon spiders threatened them, they stampeded towards Amun. Each step saw them grow larger and deadlier. As their eyes fell on him, they began to change. Chitin shifted from its usual fleshy tones to that of metal, this twilight, or a myriad of features. Meeting his gaze saw their replies become¡­ colder, their movements more intelligent. Bumping into him filled them with magic. And then they leapt over the edge, disappearing into a cavern that was unrecognizable from what it was before.


    A slick sheen of smooth roots covered the cavern''s inner surface, appearing almost like organ tissue that spasmed unnaturally. And then there were the noises. Roars and growls and chatters and hisses or hoots coming from everywhere. Noises from creatures I recognized from the surface. And rising above it all was that persistent chanting. That audacious prayer in this most holy of places.


    The hatred ran deep. Deeper even than depths of these caverns, I felt the hate our great Goddess had for this sacrilegious child. Yet, I was not the first to act.


    "Do you know what you have done?" Yela spat.


    "Brought some much needed change to this place." Opal, the Vampyr cleric, giggled.


    "You have... tainted our spiders! The ultimate, most unthinkable sacrilege! You have laid waste to Lilith''s glory! For that, you will suffer! The realms will suffer!"


    "That is unfortunate." Amun said, silencing the room and forcing all of us to follow the stench of burnbud to find him standing on the ceiling, gazing emptily at the warring creatures. "But I cannot help if they appreciate me more than her. After all, how could they not when your goddess forces them to be so feral and barbaric, and I give them the power to thrive according to their natures?"


    "You dare!" I shouted. And this time, I wasn''t stopped from reaching for my whip. But one by one, the priestesses, the shadow, even the bald deep gnome and the self-proclaimed sovereign churned their faces in disbelief before roaring back in laughter.


    And so too did Amun, incredulously shaking his head as he descended from the ceiling. "The great Queen Demon Spider''s High Priestesses uses scorpion-tailed whips to punish heretics?" He chuckled. Shook his head again. "How quaint. And adorable, really. It''s like she wants to be a goddess of nature or something." Smiling, he reached out his hand, now glowing with more of those deep blue veins, yet mixed with that divine light paired with that wicked darkness.


    It happened before I could react - before I could even turn my gaze down; the scorpion tail formed a body from the handle in my grasp, then snapped its new pincers shut. Leaving me with two fewer fingers and a weapon skittering away with the traitorous spiders.


    I spun about at once and saw two more. Then five more. Then ten more. And then dozens upon dozens of metallic scorpions skittering towards Amun to again grow larger, more intelligent, and magical. Some became scorpions of death or darkness. Others grew wings and were lined in the same light as the cavern outside. Yet more became gigantic versions of themselves, while a few more merged with surrounding stone or metal. But no matter what they now were, they poured over the railing to descend upon the basin below like the spiders.


    "Honestly, this is fucking sad. You''re all to cunning, deadly, and devious for this. At least, the stories of you are." Amun shook his head in disappointment. "Did you seriously believe I would come down here and swear fealty to your Queen just because I learned her history or my lineage?"


    "It is what she demands."


    "That, I''m not surprised by." Amun laughed again. "Disappointed, but not surprised in the slightest."


    "Watch your tongue!"


    "No." He snorted. "My devilish tongue will keep saying what you''ve needed to hear for eons. She keeps you in a regressed state, your Queen Demon Spider, Lilith." He spat. "She keeps you infighting whilst instilling hate against the surface elves and even yourselves. Yet, you hardly do a fucking thing to act against them. A few raids here or there and nothing more; like children slinging shit in a dueling chamber when compared to the schemes you employ against each other - your daughters, your mothers, your aunts, and sisters. Sons and fathers. Brothers and uncles. You fucking deviant, degenerate kin-slayers pride yourselves on ambition whilst lacking it entirely; at least beyond moving up in this meaningless hierarchy of houses. You cannot escape it. If one of you Matrons finds yourselves with ambitions leading somewhere outside of this hierarchy; if she finds herself with ambitions too high; or if those ambitions bring a fucking sense of purpose, your Queen will deceive the minds of the other matrons into countering those ambitions with levels of zeal the other gods wish they could achieve - potential, wasted. Those webs sprawled around your mind exist for the sake of chaos." He paused, smiling with his eyes in such a way that demanded we prove him wrong.


    But I could not. None of us could. For that was the Spider Queen''s way. Chaos for the sake of chaos.


    "That said, chaos is not inherently bad." He continued, pacing toward the balcony of this great chamber. "However, this chaos and anarchy that keeps these Falls in the same state as its founding is a fucking tragedy." At the edge, he stopped to shake his head as he turned about the masses. Only then did I realize his voice was being carried through this domain of his creation to befall the ears of of those below - his new zealous followers.


    "That is the product of boundless chaos. Nearly fifteen centuries of stagnation. Rising to greatness, then waisting your time and potential away for fifteen fucking centuries. But at least you didn''t devolve into nothing; so well done, I suppose. Regardless, Zimysta Falls is not the work of a great goddess showing favor to her subjects. It''s the result of an angry child trapped, bored in her divine realm, left with nothing to do but pull her strings and manipulate those outside her window for entertainment until the day she thinks she can be freed. With but a little purpose, these houses of yours could have spread across all of Nonus in but a fraction of the time. But how little control Lilith would then have. How unfortunate for her, though, for that is what''s to come.


    "I am free, and soon, you will be too, my fellow drow." Amun spread his arms. "I will make you paragons and we will scour these realms. Or." He paused, peering over his shoulder to bare his devilish grin our way. "You will turn yourselves into my Elven Devils."

 419 - Drow Matrons

    High Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    This was foretold to be the greatest time in the history of drow- nay, the history of all Elven-kind. The day Telin''s Champion was to ascend at the Bodhi Tree; and those that followed.


    I still remember the day it happened, both the end of the beginning, and the beginning of the end. The day where I, as a young drow, witnessed the great Prime Matron Eiriol Za''Darmondiel be cast from grace, reduced to nothing. It came when those accursed gates appeared, allowing filth to invade our most-sacred home.


    Because only our Goddess, in her infinite wisdom, knew how to proceed, Prime Matron Eiriol Za''Darmondiel was fated to be replaced by her daughter, my mother, Etym Za''Darmondiel. And in the greatest act of mercy ever bestowed by our Goddess, Eiriol was spared, given a sole condition - to guide me and lead countless others through the Nonusian gate to perpetuate the Houses throughout the realm. All of Mother Etym''s children ventured through those accursed gates. The 2nd and 3rd daughters, Eylahnor and Ahnya Za''Darmondiel, went through to the White Worlds; the 4th and 5th daughters, Alytana and Eknaen Za''Darmondiel, went through to the Inner Reaches. Even the 1st and 2nd sons, Ildan and Impaviel Za''Darmondiel, went through to Betrarth; all for the sake of our Goddesses glory. All except the 1st daughter of the great Prime Matron Etym Za''Darmondiel. My eldest, most prestigious, legendary sister; she who became the thousand-year Prime Matron of Youtera.


    While she remained in the motherland, I, at the young age of 96, entered this realm of power with the forsaken matron. In doing so, I wove the largest web in the history of our ancient House by sending the strongest of these lesser houses across the Nonusian Darkworld to be forgotten by the likes of us. Those Houses - led by my first young, quickly become Polaris''s problem. Even more quickly, it lifted me to the station of a great Matron like Mother Etym - the mother of the eldest and strongest House in this realm, descended from the great Goddess herself.


    I remembered it all. Me and every being of the Fae older than 266 years remembered. It was that year, 1,225 in these calenders, when Telin made himself known. For all, his message was simple: Prepare for my Champion''s arrival. For us, in the Bodhi Tree, the message was more complex. A date - the year when his champion was to ascend, coupled with tasks to complete once he ascended: Teach him the ways of our culture. For others - for my eldest sister, it was to be forsaken, like our grandmother. Not just by venturing through Telin''s gates, but by refusing to share her tasks with even our Goddess; by doing as any dutiful daughter would and slaying Mother Etym, claiming her brooch and harvesting her arcane well before claiming the throne as the Prime Matron, reigning until the day came to forsake our Goddess and fulfill her tasks - tasks only made known to us by their completion; their consequences.


    Though our Goddess knew not the nature of those tasks, it was easy for even the males to deduce. Even then, we had no choice but to abide by the Creator''s wishes and believe. We believed Telin''s Champion, Elg-Horr, would arrive at these Falls and bring the start of something more. No longer would we merely be the greatest species after this day. We would be a legendary species. That was what our great Queen Demon Spider saw in our fate all those centuries ago. That was what we believed. And though it came true, it happened in ways that even we Matrons could not foresee.


    Amun would indeed elevate us to a new station, that much was certain. It would not be done with his fealty, however. On the contrary, it would arise from his station as our most privileged adversary. A worthy foe that would end this peace that made our kind so weak. An Eternal Enemy that would recreate the millennia of war that perfected us, amplified to scales that could compete with the Rending.


    An Eternal War; dawned on this day.


    Yet, there was more information to be gained. Thus I subtly rose from my throne and prepared myself while those closest to this devilish drow maneuvered into place.


    Being the ones who guided them here, it was fitting for Nym to be the first to test the might of Telin''s legendary champion.


    She began as all drow would, thrusting her hand to release a cloud of shadow, enveloping them both in the nightly mist while her fingers snapped at the arcana surrounding them. Though the latter failed to envelop him in Faerie Flames, we heard a crossbow clicking through the darkness and sinking into flesh all the same. Then came the trademark cackling of Amun''s laughter.


    He laughed raucously while the magical darkness shrank, coalescing into a needle-thin rapier grasped firmly in his hand, thereby revealing his tickled visage. "You know, ever since I first learned, I thought it a sad thing that drow can create magical darkness without having the means to see through it. Much less manipulate it. But how stupid must you feel, Nym, to cast magical darkness over a child of the Nox?"


    Uncaring of the darts protruding from his chest, Amun flicked his wrist, causing the needle of darkness to fall limp onto the floor like a whip. Another flick saw it split into many tendrils that rose on their own accord, snaking to fill the space between him and Nym with a threatening aura. Only for him to toss it to his high priestess.


    It was easy to forget she was a Vampyr. With his company of humans and her small frame, she appeared no different from the rest of those pitiful creatures. Yet her true nature showed in her reflexes, too fast for even my un-bolstered eyes to track. All I saw was her hand snap back, holding a handle of pure light that merged seamlessly with the serpentine whip of darkness.


    With no action on her part, the whip went into motion, wrapping its serpentine body around Nym''s arm and torso while the three other snakes slithered toward the pit of darkness growing on the ceiling. They constricted tighter as she writhed, bending her body backwards and twisting her arm further and further until a sharp snap echoed through the chamber. And without so much as a groan of pain, her limp body fell, yet did not collapse onto the ground. Rather, she fell through it.


    Seeing those wretched things pull Nym into that pit of darkness pit made Yela lash out in horror. Her fingers flexed madly as she fought against my restraining gaze and scowled at the Elven Devil, screaming, "What did you do to her!? Where did you send my daughter!?"


    Amun''s gaze was as placid as ever. "Attack me and find out for yourself, Yela."


    "Oh, please! Do not show us malice, young Matrons. Lest you wish to see ours in kind. Lest you wish¡­ to be changed." Galendra, the monster of a drow, laughed heartily while Amun puffed on a bone-white pipe, still uncaring of the poison-filled quarrels poking out of his chest.


    "You enter these Falls, destroy our houses, stand in this tower, blaspheme against our Goddess, turn her children against her, and expect no malice?" Matron Noqutyl sneered. "Would you not do the same if the circumstances were reversed?"


    "I would not." Amun flatly said - a lie, I believed. I had to. Yet...


    "You see, Khaless, on one hand, I am a Grandmaster Artificer. I can always rebuild such trivial things like houses, towers, or cities. On the other hand, Negal is one of my ancestors. A throne in his underworld is my birthright without my divinity, you see, and so death is not the end for my people. So, should you kill them, well, you should start getting serious, because that fight would only just be starting. On yet another hand, I practice a little something called mindfulness. I would seek to understand and accept why the so-called blasphemer blasphemed and I would react accordingly to ensure it that was the last time such a thing happened; and I''d do it without a thought because I love fixing problems. I get shit done. And unlike your Goddess, I have only one taboo. The unjust taking of another''s freedom, be it physical or otherwise. That means no slavery of any kind. No rape, abduction, or trafficking. Nothing that takes away the freedom of choice from an undeserving individual."


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    "Freedom?" I snarled in disgust. I was so tired of that word. "You, the Eternal Champion of this very universe, care about freedom?" I spat. "You care so much for these worthless creatures, it''s disgusting! Will you free every slave in these caverns then? Every mortal in these realms?"


    "It is in my portfolio." He nodded, but not to us. "However, you should not let yourself be mistaken by your unruly emotions or whatever definitions you have for the word, Etyl. Freedom comes in many forms, yet the price to attain it is always high. The cost to maintain it is even higher. Having true freedom means having the strength to survive any place in which you may find yourself; or not. It means having the ability to pray to any deities you wish; or not. It means having the competence to go wherever you damn-well please; whenever you please. It means having the wisdom to be free from the mocking laughter of the gods and the cascading strings they pull on mortals. My followers can be as righteous or as wicked as they wish. They can say what they want about me, no matter where they find themselves. If they are capable enough, they can turn my physical manifestations against me or even outright kill them; as I said before, death is not the end for them, and if they manage such a feat, then their skill will still be acknowledged, no matter how incensed I may be.


    "Even then, the people of Eotrom are free to commit whatever taboo they please. Likewise, their victims and their associates are free to enact their revenge in any way they see fit, for no one is free from consequence. In any case, I would do nothing to punish those who express disdain for my ways; for I can clean up my messes; I fight my own battles. I would do nothing but seek to understand and find a solution to my people''s problems; for that is what it means to be an emperor. Moreover, I would give them the tools to realize that solution themselves, including the power to protect themselves from the likes of you and your goddess; for that is what it means to be God-Emperor.


    "An emperor, not just an Eternal God. For I walk on this plane of mortals, aiming my malice toward those who plot against us. I aim to change those who threaten us. I kill those who act against us, unmercifully so, for those who can act against us are strong, and mercy is for the weak. And so now we are here." Amun turned away from me, grinning deviously as he waved the matter off. "Now, Etyl, I''ve been dying to ask you: why did you drag hundreds of drow, including your first son, to the Crimson Web Maze? And for what, expressing a little interest in me? For being raised and tasked with being my teacher? Eternally so?"


    "How do you know of the Maze?"


    "Well, Yela, you just told me," Amun snickered in the face of Yela''s malice.


    "I told you once, Matrons of the Fallen Zimysta." The large drow laughed. "I am the sovereign of the place in which you so comfortably dwell. No crevice or cavern in the Darkworld can hide you, for this domain is mine."


    "I''ll let you in on a little secret, Etyl." He - that accursed male - smiled while gesturing to himself. "My plan was to corrupt you all, turning you into my first batch of elven devils. Iris wanted to take your resources and turn your machines against you, for she cares not about your comparatively frail bodies. Blude wanted to rob you blind and flood this cavern. Geri wanted your treasures after she froze the place over. Freki wanted to eat all of your food and possibly a few of you before he melted this cavern to slag. Wilson wanted to see how many of his chemicals you all could endure before you melted. Rickley wanted to sing to your souls to learn all your secrets, and then use them to torment you in death; make you go mad in life. Reina wanted to see how many mutations you could take before you gave out, while Leary just wanted to fight you to the death.


    "These are the Champions of mine that you''ve acknowledged. Yet, there is one you seem unaware of. Ironically so, for it was your goddess who tasked him to be my trainer, teacher, and adviser for life. Thus, I became his superior officer, leader, and mentor. And so, our stations are equal. I am the Guild Master of the Legio Noctis and the Eternal God-Emperor of Eotrom. He - your first son - is my Abyssal Regent. It was this Regent, not one of my divine creatures, Etyl, that you sent to your pits to be tortured for information you could have simply asked for. Not only an act of war, in my eyes, but an act that warrants unmitigated destruction. However, someone changed your fate." Amun grinned ever-wider, bringing my eyes to his jagged teeth before they fell to the item of legendary proportions pinned to his robes. "It was your son, my Champion, Etan Za''Darmondiel, who wanted me to change you filthy fucking degenerates for the better. And so, I am here. Not as the destroyer, but as a creator. The arbiter of change.


    "I have come to bring upon your evolution. I am here to create something new out of you, my fellow drow. Something worthwhile. Legendary. Eternal. So wipe that stupid look of faux-surprise off of your face, Aunt Etyl, and let''s stop wasting each other''s time. After all, I told you to stop focusing on just one aspect of my being. I told you from the beginning, I am the Destroyer of Creators, the Creator of Destroyers. So tell me, Lilith''s Matrons.


    "Will you accept this change in life or in death?"


    ***


    Etan Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    At last, the awaited time came, and right on schedule. Three Arachnyndaar skittered to my cell as per usual. They were my only interrogators now that Amun was occupying the many minds within this tower. The bulk of their bodies stood as high as carriages. Their hind parts were armored in demonic chitin, appearing as waxy flesh, yet was as hard as stone and formed with natural spikes throughout its angular body. Scorpion tails protruded from their rear, above their spinnerets, creating a wide overhang for the corrupted drow bodies fused onto the carapace. Their many eyes, appearing like pustules on the sides of their head, uncannily blinked in random patterns as they surveyed me.


    It was the fate of all who entered this accursed web, being made into abominations. Dangerous and yet dumb creatures. Overly emotional dunces like the demon spiders who ruled them.


    The largest of them raised its foreleg as its momentum halted, then lunged forward to impale my stomach, gouging its limb into the wall in the process. Using its new foothold, it leaned forward, hissing in tune to my flesh cauterizing around the scalding chitin. I had long-since grown accustomed to such pain, however. Thus, I stared into as many eyes as I could manage while the foul abomination hissed.


    "You have forsaken your Goddess! Traitor!"


    "Sinner!"


    "Filth!" its cohort hissed.


    "Never!" I shook my head. "Impossible, in fact! For I have never had a goddess to forsake!"


    The punishment came like stone rain, but I stared through them. I shouted through them until every pair of ears in this Crimson Web heard my throes. "I am not pious, but Amun, the Destroyer, is my God all the same! So graceful is he, that I was blessed without faith! And so too shall you be, my fellow drow! Even you monsters before me shall be free; for he is here to free us from the Spider Cunt!"


    The awaited time was right on schedule, for just as these beasts reeled back for another blow, the Eternal Champion called my name. His voice banged against my spirit like a celestial gong, releasing the incorporeal shackles that kept my ki contained.


    The release was like a focused explosion releasing a pair of conical shockwaves in the form of blue-violet incorporeal fists as large as the Arachnyndaar flanking me. Their chitin dented and ballooned upon cracking, then glowed from within as my nebulous ki concentrated in my palms, forming dense orbs of solid energy I thrust out with glee.


    The twin blasts set my spirit ablaze, manifesting the blue-violet flames of ki to burn the crimson webs from my frame before they congealed into the rippling muscle and flowing robes of my true self. The raining ichor phased into a thick cloud of starry motes that fell into an orbit around me as my true self''s feet manifested with a stone-cracking stomp, ripping my feet from the ground and my body forward as a series of swift kicks assaulted my last torturer.


    Wasting no time, I imposed my will on those orbiting motes and did not wait for them to shift into astral clones before my true self kicked. Every webbed resin wall, and the stone set between them, I kicked and kicked while my astral clones dipped and dove to retrieve my fellow drow and slay the abominations huddled over them - a process that was finished before the end began.


    "That arcana surrounding you," Sid, first son of Yela, signed. "Is what you said true?"


    "Almost every word." I grinned. "Their Queen summoned Amun here to bring him into her pantheon. Well, the Elven Devil came here to add drow to his divine portfolio. He would have done it covertly had they not tried this." I looked around before settling my eyes back on him, his brother Javrith and the dozens more behind them. "Have faith. Or have none. Just have the courage to stand against those who wish to tread on you."


    "It''s not like we have a choice." Their sisters, Shaenya and Schyrl, huffed in unison. And they indeed looked distraught. As the former was evolved but had yet to become a true cleric of Lilith, she felt it more than most - the distance between us and the Goddess of Drow.


    "I will not be dying here, Etan." The latter of them spat. "I refuse to be turned into an abomination because I had the skill to survive the destruction we summoned to this accursed place!"


    "Blame your Goddess for her backwards ways!" Another drow sneered - Javrith, second son of Yela, by the sound of him. "She planned this from the start!"


    "Enough!" I called over them. "We need to move."


    "And go where?" Sorn signed. "Surely we can''t go back to the Falls."


    "We can and we will." I grinned, then pointed to the end of this crimson cave. And one by one, they peered through to the exit to gaze upon the vibrant sky of glimmering light spread above a multi-chambered complex of smooth, striated stone. "For this is no longer Zimysta Falls."

 420 - Elven Devils

    Prime Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel.


    High Cleric of Lilith; Fate and Drow Domains.


    ***


    "So tell me, Matrons. Will you accept this change in life? Or in death?"


    A bleeding, seething rage welled within me - within all of us, as those blasphemous words echoed from his mouth, ejecting a golden light to be occluded by a cloud of darkness that yielded only the sight of Yela, erupting in a blind rage on the far side of the chamber.


    Silhouetted against this golden ring limning the walls, we all saw her draw her scimitars and charge. And so too did we see the tiny vampyr spread her robes and disappear in a blur of motion, meeting her rage with a graceful kick to the chest. Her feathered robe flapped as their momentum halted, spinning her other leg into Yela''s armored ribs to fling them apart, but not before that serpentine whip lunged forth to bite into Yela''s shoulder. Its fangs carved a coiled groove down Yela''s arm as they flew apart, releasing a small blood shower that made the cleric''s spirit flare with crimson arcana. Yet, it did not leave her spirit to grasp Yela''s blood from afar. It simply commanded it to congeal and be drawn into a thin spear that closed the distance for her.


    The rudimentary spell raced forward at an impressive speed, yet Yela was prepared. Her scimitar glowed as it dipped, its blade poised upward before it disappeared in a similar blur, dismantling the blood spear into a cloud of red mist held back by a ward of Yela''s yellow arcana.


    The first round went to the little vampyr priestess, Tava. Unfortunately for her, she was running out of surprises, and Yela was undaunted. She distanced herself with a few swift strides while muttering a subtle healing prayer to our beloved Goddess; and Lilith heard our call louder than ever. Crimson webs cascaded from Yela''s mouth, undulating through her skin to stitch her arm back together within moments. Yet the vampyr had already acted, turning her back on Yela to step through the shadows and appear at her rear just as the prayer was complete.


    Her fangs sank into my daughter''s neck before the webs could recede from her bloodied hand. But even then, Yela responded appropriately, throwing a solid wall of arcana from her back before spinning, leaping back with her hand pressed over her fresh wound.


    Trapped between the wall and Yela''s spell, the priestess laughed before her spirit bloomed, filling her body with that crimson arcana until she dissolved into a gilded cloud that gushed out the side like rushing steam, skirting the wall in all directions. The sight of it, the audacity, and perhaps the prowess displayed thus far made the crimson veil surrounding our spirits erupt, making the chaotic webs in our minds flare brighter than ever before. Yela glowed with that violet-crimson aura as she bolstered herself. Webs poured from her hand, solidifying from the energy to cascade onto her wound and seal it shut - a far cry from the divine mana the great Lilith bestowed on us, for our eternal enemy gave just as much to his clerics.


    The crimson scimitars seemed to drink the ambient twilight as the young priestess came around to Yela''s rear, their blades gleaming with fury while the darkness attempted to pull them out of the path of the cleric''s dancing blades. Yela began cackling with glee as the violet-red aura merged with her yellow arcana, bolstering her physical prowess. Her dance accelerated into a frenzied blur, forever matched by the smaller blades of light and darkness forming from the shattered spells. Yet, it seemed with our Eternal Enemy, not even our fervor could be given lightly.


    Even I struggled to see it. Thus, Yela had no chance of spotting the clerical vampyr emerging from the indiscriminate field of light and darkness with a dirk of black blood and an open maw poised to strike. Her free hand lashed out to grasp Yela''s white locks and pushed, using her absurd strength to send small cracks echoing through the cavern before a shuddering gasp signaled my daughter''s demise.


    Despite her weakness, Yela clawed, cursed, and stabbed at the unassuming beast clenched to her back, gorging herself on drow blood. Simultaneously, the vampyr thrust and flailed her dirk around Yela''s face, scarring her pristine visage and painting it with black blood until her cursing turned to gargling and she staggered, leaning back with clutched hands while the dirk melted into Vampyric blood and flowed into her mouth, veritably sealing her fate. Yet, there was naught to show for even that, as the darkness consumed her body before it could fall, bringing the light and thus our eyes to Amun and that monstrous pet he kept.


    They sat where they''d been, near the entrance, several dozen meters away and far beneath our terrace, laughing and smoking beneath that point of golden light while their minions pranced around the clouds of Gods-forsaken darkness, leaving us Matrons to try to sense what hid beyond the crimson webs spreading from our priestesses. The pawns had yet to finish setting the tone. Moreover, the weak - the hasty ones like Yela and those without grace - had yet to be culled. But Lilith, most high, was with us. With her grace and my bolstered senses, I peered through the darkness to witness the first pawns engaging our eternal enemy.


    It was a falling rock that pierced the veil of light, pulling my eyes to Nhilah, who deftly raised her hand to weave arcana into a spreading web of silk to catch the boulder in mid-flight. Thus opening her guard for the bald deep gnome''s hammer, radiating light as it swung from low to high to crumple her sternum and throw her into a wall of darkness with ease. Yet no crash came from the black wall, only a ripple that eventually grew eerily still. Accompanied by a barbaric, undying shadow of surprising strength, the bald deep gnome sought to cull Yela''s 1st daughter, Nym. And yet, another undying shadow engaged Nyx and Naphyss; the small woman of darkness and arcane markings who accompanied the Destroyer as he entered. A weakling; easily killed, yet capable of reconstituting as long as her sovereign held arcana. Birthing a zeal in the sisters that led to their shrinking awareness.


    They danced across the battlefield in chase of their prey, using Lilith''s infinite grace and the abundant arcana to launch a more potent assault, uncaring of the other until the dancing shadow aligned them perfectly and turned their spells on each other. Crippled and maimed in their hands and jaws, they found themselves stripped of our Goddess'' favor and fell pitifully to such a weak shadow. Then, as if to further disrespect our great goddess, the shadow sought to enrage us over something as meaningless as some high priestesses who lost their favor. She left Nyx and Naphyss clinging to life as she dragged them to our altar. Prayers erupted as she approached that accursed drow-devil, who opened a pit of darkness at their feet. Amusement flashed in his eyes and burned evermore once their we offered to him, bathing the center of this great chamber in a radiance that pushed back the eyes of many, including mine.


    Despite centuries growing accustomed to the light, I screamed great prayers to our Goddess while my eyes burned in the Brightest Night, for within its depths, its so-called Empress clutched onto a curiously thin rapier with enough zeal to draw blood through the gauntlets.


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    Her blood, blacker than the night she claimed, solidified into iron as it dripped down the handle, elongating the haft and widening the thin point into a spear''s leafed blade. Then she began praying, pouring that baleful light into her blood blade. "From dusk to dawn, and on to dusk, Zimysta has been given order and liberty, and now awaits the Darkheart to beat in His name. Long may his feathers reign!" Her weapon slammed down with that declaration, injecting the chamber with an influx of corruptive energy that carved deep fissures in the stone as it raced toward our positions.


    Though it was blocked or deflected with ease, that accursed light was not meant for us. It sank into the stone beyond this great chamber, boring through the depths of this ancient tower to crumple its foundation and release its remnants to the ruins of its supports, now corrupted into a glistening field of gaseous darkness. Our proud platforms and daises, once looking over the ceremonial hall, had been split apart from the shock and scattered through the darkness to be lost between the collapsed walls and colossal chunks of our great tower, spinning fervently about G''eldantaar''s crimson wood, inverted in this dark pit above the fallen Zimysta. The altar, the pews, the webs above, and items of worship once spread below were sundered and erased; them and more. Nadra and her daughters were out of sensory range; as were the daughters of the other matrons, despite their mothers being scattered several hundred meters across my flanks. Or, perhaps it was several dozen meters; this devil''s darkness made it hard to tell.


    The abyssal devil of our blood.


    "YOU!" I bellowed. The Matrons followed, filling the air with curses and prayer while the arcana went wild, flourishing from their spirits and amalgamating from the air to don them in armor, cast volleys of divine spells, and forge their arcane blades.


    Mana forged scimitars in hand, I leaped into that eternal night with only my faith to guide me and my matrons to support me. The Elven Devil, with his beast of a drow, stood arrogantly as he flimsily swept a mass of white arcana - spatial-temporal magic - from his hand.


    My scimitar''s serrated, hair-thin edge rose sharply to carve into the spatial domain with glee, bisecting the arcana and outright sundering the spell with the crimson crescent blade projected through the follow up. The arcane blade barreled toward our eternal enemy and I followed suit, somersaulting into a falling double slash that projected wider arcs of cream-colored energy than before.


    Amun watched the oncoming rush with a careless eye and dodged them with the flair of a bard, sidestepping the crimson blades and scarcely backpedaling once the battered ground morphed into rolling hills of crimson hills. Spinning out a prayer, I twisted my body and found the familiar spring of webs beneath my feet and sprung, trusting the potent energies and my faith to guide my blades to their target. The wind billowed around me, the webs spread between us unraveled, and at last, when he turned, his placid eyes grew wide with surprise.


    I bolstered my left arm and thrusted, aiming for his neck while my remaining weapon fell on an arcing sweep toward his ear. Wisely, he did the same, bolstering himself to duck, sidestep, and pivot into an air-compressing back kick. I grasped the arcana as I twisted my body to dodge, disrupting the paltry mass of air while I came around to his rear, crouched low, arms spread but closing into a double horizontal cross to bisect him and finish this.


    But of course, such things were not meant to be so easy.


    A bestial eye of midnight colors was the only thing I saw before darkness consumed my vision. Pain, searing and enraging, rattled my face and rippled across my body as tepid air danced violently across my exposed skin; overshadowed in its entirety by the veil of confusion. Yet, my hands went to work immediately, the left compressing arcana behind me while I allowed the feelings of detachment to overcome me; the right rising to my face to bewitch needles, pins, and plates into the shattered bone while I levitated to a halt, then turned my sneer to the beast in drow form. "You are stronger than you appear."


    "Thank you, Prime Matron Etyl." She snickered.


    "That was not a compliment." I sneered. "Your strength is like that of a beast."


    "A beast she says." Amun chortled, appearing at her side. "I suppose we show her our true forms now that she''s trying to stall and heal?"


    "You first." She said calmly.


    "Very well." Amun took a deep breath and turned to meet my eyes, fueled by the white arcana leaking from his spirit. "It''s my first time in this transformation, so bear with me." He said. Then, as he winked one of those abyssal eyes, the platforms orbiting the divine tree, the cascading swirls of dust, the figures in the distance, the shapes in my peripherals, and the signatures I detected around me, all ground to an eerie halt. Even me. Almost.


    Bolstered as I was, my agility and dexterity was on par with the Elven Devil''s, who only recently attained such supernatural prowess. Under the influence of this temporal distortion, it was just enough to form my escape; even as I looked into the void.


    Emitting silent curses, I moved my scimitars toward my thighs while I was forced to witness what appeared like the gilded flames of the faerie immolating his robes, revealing the abyssal tree of legend sprawled across his chest like an eldritch tattoo, for its branches rippled across his skin in the eeriest way.


    Those black branches spread beneath his arms to drape his back in a coattail''d shroud of darkness. They writhed around his shoulders before falling down his arms and legs to form webs between long, white-bladed claws in place of his fingers and toes. The crown of that void tree ceased just beneath his jaw, yet crept around his skull to form black ridges on his crown, set behind the abyssal, white-lined horns jutting from his brow like daggers, silhouetted by that divine crown of arcane fire.


    Though I saw it before, this form was different - a bit larger than his normal size, and with far more wickedness. The implications of such a thing were now realized by the both of us. And so, with a newfound vigor, I sought to slam my forged blade against my knee while my body prepared to lunge at this accursed fiend, this Devil of the Fae, smirking at me until the moment I nullified his temporal effect and was left standing, staring into a bestial eye of midnight colors.


    "Now witness the glory of the Exalted Gloom!"


    I pushed against the arcana with those words, shoving me through the air in a tactical retreat while I scanned the area for the other matrons. Yet, before I could get a proper count, that accursed darkness billowed like walls of smoke, rising high to either side to meet in the middle above and below, forcing my eyes upon the sole observable point in the chamber''s center, set between this impenetrable darkness and the sickening sense of malevolence that spawned it.


    A familiar headdress came hurtling from that gloom, seeming to silence the realms themselves as it clattered against the ground before Amun, opening the most putrid sense of foreboding with the shadow that consumed it. The spread made the darkness waver - quiver and ripple like the air above a brazier, clearing up just enough to make out the bestial drow''s figure as it¡­ changed.


    Her height grew thrice, starting with the arms, which bulged into massive scaled claws as she doubled over, giving me a clear view of the iconic horns spiraling from the edges of her brow and the slightly smaller gilded horns spiraling behind them. Then came the webbed line of short spines sprouting up to bisect her nape, running down her back to the snaking tail lashing furiously, as if pained by the magnificent midnight wings spreading from her back. Like great curtains of violet doom, they spread with unbridled power, blowing apart the darkness in tune with a bloodcurdling roar that shook the cavern to its core; demanding the realms to respond to her call.


    I felt honored, witnessing the opening stages of this eternal war and the unaltered form of our most powerful enemy, heralded by a gloriously dreadful ensemble and a script of arcana, suspended above a dragon of abyssal darkness that stared at me with star-speckled eyes of malice.


    [The Divine Dragon of Darkness: Cononthoth, the Exalted Gloom.]

 421 - Divine Dragon

    [Divine Dragon of Darkness: Cononthoth, the Exalted Gloom.]


    The most horrid music rose to the tune of that beast rearing its neck up high. The rippling darkness surged, drawing itself into this beast''s great nostrils and, instinctively, I rolled into a vortex of arcana. A cone of dark fire billowed across the space in which I just stood not a moment later. Like a giant''s spear, it encompassed my field of view as it billowed past, even as my distance exceeded 10 meters, burning my eyes from the vibrancy of its white core while my body singed beneath the heat of its black flames. When I turned to the source and realized the creature was gone, I poured arcana through my senses and followed their pull to my left, where a wall of midnight scales was whipping toward my comparatively tiny frame, pushing against the air with enough friction to ignite a billowing wall of that black and white flame.


    My arms snapped up as the arcana bolstered my dexterity and agility to its superpowered limits, sending a satisfying shudder down my spine while the realm around me ground to a crawl. I looked ahead to the spell I had launched, attempting to match dark fire and raw arcana, wall to wall, while hastening my retreat, studying how the black flames licked through the shield even before the roiling white core sundered it wholly. Yet, even with my haste, I felt the burning numbness digging into my fingers, spreading its corruption to my hand.


    Fighting against that senseless abyss threatening to consume me, I enacted a levitation spell and used a cushion of mana to skid to a halt in midair, where I looked about to find myself amidst a few matrons on a floating plateau of rock and trees, shaken by the black blots burned into their skin; burning my fingers.


    That dark fire enveloped us like an oppressive storm, but above was an endless expanse of stars, limned at the horizon with a pinpoint of golden light that grew dimmer and dimmer until we found ourselves in perpetual gloom, accompanied only by that dreadfully delightful music and the billowing smoke of this divine dragon. Within that darkness, I weighed the use of another healing prayer and quickly decided against it. Lilith, most high, would only permit so many before I was deemed weak. Similarly, the use of an arcane shield had proven moot against the living God of Mana. Thus, a different approach would be needed for these formidable foes - the worthy enemies of Lilith''s drow.


    A brief prayer to my great Goddess sent arcana cascading around my head to act as pheromones for the demon spiders within me. My throat burned in ecstasy as their venomous power flowed up my head to penetrate my crown, piercing my spirit with an array of spider eyes to scan my surroundings with contempt.


    My approach was rewarded with a golden glint at our zenith shining brightly, acting as a distraction from the twin glints breaching the night to my right. Scimitars raised, I turned to face the two vampyr rushing to our position, only for one of my spider eyes to catch something stepping out of the darkness behind Matron Abaeir, to my rear.


    The weakness shown by Matron Abaeir manifested in her ignorance of the brutish slate arms of that deep gnome enveloping her waist from the rear. Such ignorance remained until she could not release herself and could not stop herself from being tipped backwards over the ledge. The vampyr followed in quick succession. Mounted atop overgrown chickens that only flew by the power of their riders'' armor and robes, they dipped and swayed beneath our volley of arcane spells, returning our aggression with ordered steps and black blades thrown against our arcane shields from odd angles.


    With the robed Vampyr approaching close quarters, Matron Eralyth Jusztiir prioritized defending herself against the bladed onslaught. Only the beginnings of an attack prayer were uttered before the Vampyr pounced from her beast at a blur, blood blade poised for Eralyth''s jugular. She thrusted and Eralyth sidestepped, negating the death stroke to a shallow nick - a death stroke in smaller proportions, when dealing with the blood magic of a Vampyr.


    An abnormal geyser of blood spewed from Eralyth''s neck and the Vampyr claimed it greedily, drawing it to the tip of her blade to form a cruel axe that swung in reverse as the Vampyr''s momentum halted with a powerful flap of her robed arms. Eralyth tucked her legs and jumped over the sweeping axe with ease, flipping halfway to invert herself above the enemy with prayers muttering from her lips and dense arcana packed in her mace - the perfect opening for that beast the enemy leaped from.


    Claws of sickening light burrowed into Eralyth''s unguarded stomach and clamped tight as their momentum carried them over the edge, chased by the Vampyr priestess diving after them, screeching some nonsense about feathers and devils. The clerical Vampyr in that ridiculously thick armor swept into range the moment her priestess faded from view, moving at a crawl because of my bolstered agility and dexterity. The beast she was mounted on dug its claw into the darkness as it lunged, dipping her thin rapier low and then high once it was propelled by the rapid flapping of her armor''s gilded wings.


    I sneered when that sickening feeling returned en masse, dragging my stomach and pulling it into a foul pit. My blades dipped in response, costing me precious moments, for the threat was behind me and moving fast.


    My waist seized before the cracking echoes of my armor''s chitin foreshadowed the mountainous pressure enveloping my hips. I was too late. Glimpses of a snaking black tail whipped past my eyes before my body lurched, turning the clerical vampyr into view as she and her mount were overtaken by a red-black aura. Their bodies pulsed and dispersed into a bloody black mist that danced around Matron Yril''Lysaen''s shoulders, reforming before my eyes with her blade poised low for a strike.


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    The dragon was fast, but not fast enough. Reversing my grip, I pulled my scimitar down, pouring arcana through my blades while shouting praise for the beloved spider - praise that was silenced by a heart''s beat.


    A blinding flash of gilded light bloomed from the vampyr''s armor before the reverberating twangs of adamantine-on-adamantine shot up my arms, only to be erased by a sharp pain piercing through my shoulder.


    "BURN IN CHAOS!" I cursed. The spiders within me went wild, digging their fangs into my throat to overflow my maw with their acidic venom. It spewed onto the vampyr''s armor like a broken aquifer, or the fangs of a mad viper, hissing violently while dispersing a voluminous cloud with its throes. Then I was thrown, and with substantial force.


    I gained control of my spin almost immediately, flipping through the air to trace a dark strand leaking from my wounded shoulder back to a dark cave rimmed with jagged stalagmites and stalactites, igniting into a dense mass of dark fire - a dragon''s maw.


    Grinning madly at the tenacity of our eternal enemy, I shouted to my glorious goddess while my mind sharpened on the arcana surrounding my shoulder, manifesting streams of webs to seal my wound, even as my spirit poured into my blades.


    Flipping forward, I poured my arcana through my scimitar as I brought it down, aided by the lifting force of my webs to carve through the cone of dark fire with a an imposing crescent crimson blade, chased by many more while I swung on web strings around G''eldantaar''s inverted trunk. I felt Lilith''s roiling anger as I rounded the far side of the divine tree. Anger at the matrons - at me, for this weakness displayed. Yet, she would not reward haste. I needed information. I needed to prove my faith.


    Screaming prayers to the Queen Demon Spider, I put my life in Lilith''s hands and released my restraints on my spirit, spinning as much arcana as I could gather around my frame while the contents of my arcane well poured into my scimitars, infusing them with a deep crimson-purple hue that erupted in similarly colored fire.


    The fires of chaos roiled around me, pushing this putrid darkness aside enough for me to glimpse that black fire further below. Focusing my eyes, I could see Matron Z''ryliss Hun''ana, darting out of the way of that eldritch cone of dark fire near the opening of this inverted pot. That foul breath had lanced through her armor and charred her flesh black. With the heat it produced, her arm should have been slag and ash. Yet, her burnt bits were almost like the umbral flesh of the Nox''s undying shadows, albeit with cracking white lines spread throughout, burning like embers. Prayers uttered from her lips as the dragon melded with the darkness along the wall, skittering with an uncanny grace to the stones above Matron Hun''ana before detaching, not pouncing toward her. Powerful swipes of its tail propelled it forward, as opposed to a mighty leap, simultaneously pushing torrential waves into the darkness and leaving walls of churning flames in its wake. A silent flap of its great wings sent it somersaulting, its back rolling toward Matron Hun''ana''s unassuming crown, adding leverage to the tail swinging around at a blur, igniting the surrounding air as it passed.


    The matron turned once the heat of that dark fire breathed down her neck. But she erred. Her already burnt arm was raised before her chaos domain spread, and the dragon fled only after the flames licked her face and sundered the rest of her arm. Once clear, her blackened arm flailed about as if possessed, reaching for the folds in her armor to try to rip them loose. Yet, her weakness was of no use to me. Besides the seemingly impenetrable armor worn by the cleric, my focus was on the dragon. Her presence now made sense. The venerable red dragon Amun was meant to face last year was now a divine dragon of darkness, having ascended at his side. The ensuing changes in behavior were uncannily predacious, dissimilar to any dragon known across the realms. Drow-like. Remaining hidden until the most opportune moments and resorting to hit-and-run tactics while her minions did the heavy lifting, or her impertinent attacks felled her foes at last.


    Such tactics were verified once Z''ryliss caught a wave of dark fire to the maw. She fell to her knees pitifully, her visage consumed by the abyssal fires seeming to spread to the unburned parts of her body. Though they were not touched by flames, they smoked and glowed with that uncanny white essence - that strange heat - cracking along the seams as it glowed brighter and eventually split in sprays of gore. Then the draconic darkness poured.


    It poured from her sundered skin, not as fire but as magma. Black magma with stark white embers that seeped into some places and overflowed in others, hardening and smoothing over into bestial claws, nightly scales, and serrated horns, with the burned head and right hand made of the umbral flesh of the Shadow Realm.


    Although weak, Z''ryliss Hun''ana''s death would be retold with glory, for she gave me the information I needed to ensure my species'' survival. And in this time of legend, my Goddess granted me all the power I needed.


    "I commend you, Elven Devil!" I shouted, gathering the matron''s attention while a column of arcana formed beneath me, and I soared above it all. The dark fire, the vampyr, and our eternal enemy.  "Your faithful are worthy! You are worthy! But do not think you have isolated the Queen Demon Spider! Your power, though boundless, is spread thin. Lilith''s power is boundless within me!"


    Arcana poured from my spirit as I glided above the fray, carving the crimson sigils of our Goddesses around the highest concentration of her power - G''eldantaar. The sight and my words rallied the matrons - those that survived. Syndyrran Illistyn, Phyrryn Yril''Lysaen, Khaless Noqutyl, and Barrdones Casia-Psellus enveloped themselves in web cocoons at the first opening, followed by their surviving high priestesses - the strongest of their blood, ready to be sacrificed to the great Lilith to permit our summoning.


    "You will know firsthand Lilith''s wrath, Amun." I sneered at the Elven Devil, standing idly far below.


    Yet my insolent nephew sneered back. "Oh, shut up already."

 422 - Demon Spiders

    Amun.


    10th of Sextrand, 1492.


    07:34


    ***


    Matron Etyl Za''Darmondiel was a crafty old drow, that was for sure. Her presence on the battlefield was like that of a fighting general. Or better yet, a necromancer, standing idly while her fodder fell like flies. Her sharp eyes and enhanced senses slowed her perspective to a crawl just like mine was, allowing her to catch every tactic, strength, and weakness displayed by my forces and spin crimson webs of experience to negate them with prejudice. Even with her prowess, however, her focus was not as wide as mine. Transformed as I was, I needed no bolstering of mana or spellcraft to study the enemy''s slowed actions or to act against them, for the Supreme Void Imp I once was possessed superpowered speed; and now, the Void Imp Consular I had become had the strength to match.


    From half a dozen perspectives, I watched Kele step through the darkness to wrap her burly arms around Matron Alauran Abaeir''s waist and suplex her off their platform. Cursing wildly, Alauran''s spirit bloomed before her visage erupted in the crimson-violet light of hellfire. It cackled and roiled against Kele''s shade-touched arms, yet the parts of emotion, body, persona, mind, and spirit Kele killed in the Trial of Five Deaths allowed her to press on with only the acknowledgment of her exposed charred bones. Minor pain. No fear. But she was not without cunning.


    Screaming in faux pain, Kele shoved and kicked Alauran away, then reached behind her to summon her great war hammer from her pocket of burning darkness. The Shadowfire within her small pocket dimension enveloped Kele''s arms as her weapon fell into her hand, layering her exposed bones with draconic muscle and scaled gauntlets that swung down her hammer like a falling star. Our enemy had centuries of experience, however. Alauran swept her arms behind her the moment she was freed from Kele''s grasp. She pulled against the ambient arcana as if she were swimming before kicking an arcane platform to begin an empowered dive, all while muttering prayers and covering her rear with spells projected from her hand crossbows.


    Pulled by the might of her hammer, Kele plummeted after the Matron at an off angle, herding Alauran toward the many caves and protrusions of this inverted pit while Slade, her Dragine, raced along the walls to intercept. His serpentine body writhed and wriggled as he moved, his claws silenced and his weight supported by the umbral pads of his feet until he leaped high, unfurling his great wings to lunge forth and twist its tail into Alauran. The impact was¡­ off-putting, however. The arcane shield Alauran produced buckled but held firm beneath the force of Slade''s tail. Yet she was still sent flying into the wall, churning the arcana to reorient her body and slide to a landing near the mouth of a deep tunnel. Backpedaling and flipping further inside, she continued praying without a care for the dragine and deep gnome hunting her, even when the fall of Kele''s great hammer brought the entrance down behind them.


    The cacophony of cascading rocks was silenced by Alauran''s incantations, rippling against the ambient arcana in ways that shifted its hue from a rich azure to a fiendish red. Then it went supernova, punching a purple hue into the atmosphere. Space itself seemed to become corrupted by the domain of chaos, disappearing the surrounding stone to reveal a shifting labyrinth of razor sharp webs, violet fire, and demon spiders. Yet, that made little difference to Kele.


    She and her mount pressed forward without a care, entirely ignoring the mostly phantasmal creatures as they swept around to her flanks. Kele stomped before Alauran with a sweep from below, only to be parried by a wild swipe of the matron''s scimitar, giving her the momentum to swing around and slash through the dark fire she believed would erupt from Slade''s maw. What he unleashed was not Shadowfire, however. Slade''s deathly wail blatantly ignored Alauran''s projected slash as it washed over her, reverberating her eardrums until they shattered like the chaos domain that followed. Yet the wail persisted, spreading its sonic energy down the enclosed tunnels to ripple its walls in ways that silenced both their echoes and the throes of a matron who lost Lilith''s favor.


    Clutching her ears, Alauran remained opened to Kele''s hammer, swinging around and down on her head. Slade lashed out as she crumpled to the ground, clenching his jaw through her femur and running off with her leg, knowing the matron would be rendered to paste and his master would soon rejoin him in their realm of shadows. Meanwhile, Tava, showing the predacious nature of a Vampyr graced by twilight, dove after Matron Eralyth Jusztiir as the latter stabbed at the twilight ave''s talons, impaling her armor with the frenzy of an orc.


    The flightless bird released its grip after the third feral slash, rising to act as a foothold for Tava, leaping forth to take command of the blood dripping from Eralyth''s wound. The fluid bubbled as the iron in it congealed and solidified, adopting a black hue before shifting into daggers, arrows, and dirks that plummeted into their source from all angles. Prayers turned to curses as the crimson blades fell past her guard. Witchcraft''d needles danced around her hands while the blood trailed behind her, merging with the weapons that''d just assaulted her to grow into swords, bolts, and spears before falling back onto the matron.


    Each meter gained saw more cuts and stabs spread across her hands, face, and neck, shrouding her vision in a flurry of blades and blood that, in the end, occluded the twilight-infused rapier thrusting in Tava''s hand.


    Even I couldn''t see the look on Eralyth''s face when her armor was stabbed through. I could only hear the crack of its chitin. That, and I could feel the twilight pour into her body, filling the niche left by her drained blood with something that activated with Tava''s prayer.


    "Die in brilliance and fade like the light of dusk!"


    Light, unholy and screaming, poured through Eralyth''s body and erupted from every orifice like the persistent beams of a lighthouse releasing a siren''s howl, casting aberrant shadows amidst the sea of darkness until the bones were sundered, her flesh was burned through, and night returned to this realm of eternal darkness.


    With the destruction of Matron Eralyth Jusztiir, the ramblings of Matron Etyl pulled my attention to G''eldantaar, looking like an inverted sapling, dying and leafless. Matrons Syndyrran Illistyn, Phyrryn Yril''Lysaen, Khaless Noqutyl, and Barrdones Casia-Psellus surrounded the tree at regular intervals, their arms raised toward the center of arcane inscriptions woven into the ambient arcana.


    "Oh, shut up already."


    Turning, I opened my shadow before stepping through the darkness, allowing my horde of undead to spread in my wake, led by Zaraxus, who ascended to destroy the gathered high priestesses. Lana trailed me through the short tunnel of darkness and out the other side, poised several meters above the matrons. She pounced after Matron Illistyn with the same ferocity born from the devil in me, looking upon the demonic form of Matron Yril''Lysaen with disdain. But where Lana had experience, I had wits.


    The clawed hand of the Void Imp Consular gripped my Lana''s ankle before she drifted out of reach, inadvertently crushing it while the other pushed against the darkness, swinging me back and around to fling her at her target like a human cannonball. Then I pounced.


    Matron Phyrryn Yril''Lysaen remained focused on their ritual until the last moment, when she turned with surprising speed, one scimitar raised in a block and the other poised to stab. I floated in regardless, my left arm raised to deflect the stab while the other shot forward.


    A distant pain coupled with a feeling of disgust trickled through my knuckles as they punched her mana forged scimitar. Her meek strength was overcome in an instant, however, slamming the blade back to collapse onto her armor. Its chitin buckled beneath the pressure and undulated until the underlying mithral somewhat seemed to shift into webs, dispersing much of the impact. Regardless, she rocketed away from her peers like a rock tossed down a well, cursing prayers of demonic foulness while I turned to step through the shadows to intercept her.


    Arcana poured from my well to my sorcerous core as the darkness overcame me, flowing through every layer until the eldritch energy of the abyss flowed into my claws, sweeping up into Phyrryn''s path to form a Void Shield between us. Carried by my momentum, I drifted up into the blot on reality the moment it formed, bringing me to the infinite expanse where reality seemed like an ever-changing photorealistic nebula, morphing into Phyrryn''s gaunt face and crimson eyes gaping into the void.


    Placidly, I stared at her armor disintegrating into energy layer by layer, exposing undergarments, skin, muscle, and bone before that too transformed into energy and became void; leaving only the calming emptiness and the howling energies within, timeless and not.


    I thrust out my palm and watched the void rise into a lance that shot for G''eldantaar. Yet I timelessly watched Matron Syndyrran Illistyn kill Lana over and over again, spurring the matron into a frenzy of devotion. I heard her provocations through Lana''s ears as she charged, seemingly in a blind fury. "Yes!" Syndyrran howled. "Show me the might of the Nox''s inexhaustible armies! You will prove to be a better blight on the Plane than even the Necro King, Eternal! Let our-"


    Her words were cut short by Lana''s blurred fist grazing her arm before she backpedaled, putting her scimitars into a dance that bisected and cleaved Lana into four symmetrical pieces. Yet, my arcana was plentiful. Even from the void, it poured into Lana''s soul, sublimating her umbral flesh into a cloud of darkness that sank and congealed, hardening into the visage of a rugged woman stomping forward to rock Syndyrran''s jaw with two devastating hooks.


    The power of Lana''s punches made Syndyrran forcibly look left and then right in a daze, yet the old drow spun into the second punch and flourished her blade across Lana''s belly and throat. Vacated of her core muscles, Lana doubled over, freeing the matron to cast a webbed net from her back as she faced about. The web grasped onto Lana as much as it did free space, causing small spatial distortions to warp the light around the webs until Syndyrran launched herself toward the tree, snapping the lines taught enough to break the three dimensions like a pane of glass, with Lana caught in the middle.


    The tip of my Void Pillar licked G''eldantaar''s violet bark and halted as Lana died again, for I ascended through the abyss, gathering its energy into an aggressive pip before I punched through reality to sow the Void Seed in G''eldantaar''s bark.


    The void beneath me ascended through my arm as the abyss cascaded through G''eldantaar''s branches like rushing water, flowing down its roots and through the bedrock to repeat the pattern through the Underground until it breached Shujen''s surface.


    With the void reaching above, Lana was freed to plunge from my shadow, veins bulging, eyes white with rage. Still ascending to rejoin her fellow matrons, Syndyrran whipped her scimitar with practiced ease, releasing waves of acid and webs amidst her unholy incantations. Yet Lana, blinded by rage, powered through them, falling onto her like a rabid cat that refused to let go of its prey. Syndyrran stabbed and Lana gripped her legs tighter to pummel and pound her with the unending stamina of the undead, howling maniacally as they fell to her doom.


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    "Too late, Eternal!"


    "Is it?" I asked before fully noticing Matron Etyl''s scimitar, following through a horizontal slice.


    Too much arcana was packed within. And yet, it was tame in comparison to what drifted beyond the void - the final remaining branch of G''eldantaar, as long as a staff and roiling with crimson-violet energy.


    Turned out, it was too late; for the ritual, at least. For a moment, the staff''s unholy light outshone the twilight far below, blinding me to the divine energy leaping from Etyl to Khaless and Barrdones. Something positively foul was left in its wake, with a smell like burning rubber or plastic, hot wax, and pickled meat.


    "Behold the greatest glory of our beloved Lilith!" Came Etyl''s maniacal voice from the radiance. "Snroeslm!"


    The foul light faded to a cruel purple ambiance with the word, unveiling 16 demons snapping to attention beside their matrons; with 8 around Etyl and 4 each for Khaless and Barrdones. They were at least 6 meters in stature, tailed with the barbs of scorpions, and wreathed in hellfire atop their waxy chitin. Their formless faces were cluttered with mandibles and spider-like eyes that locked onto me with clattering twitches and horrendous screeches the moment they appeared.


    Reeling back as a collective, the demons entered the fray with a shriek that could rival Cononthoth''s roar; a fair play against mortals. Against vampyr, undead, and a shadow dragon, however, it was an exploitable opening.


    The violet veil darkened as cones of shadowfire rose from above, sweeping across Barrdones and her four demons like an abyssal flamethrower built for a giant. The demons'' shriek morphed into a howl amidst the foreign energy as, for what I assumed to be the first time in their existence, they burned as easily as their victims.


    The darkness that soon fell gave rise to the light of dawn, ascending as a slew of snaking beams from the point of Opal''s spear as she stood amidst the near-bloodless bodies of Nadra and her daughters, sinking to the Abyss to be corrupted. The twilight serpents lanced the screeching demons like wild things, whipping and splitting their bodies to curl back on their enemies while ducking and weaving the mana forged bolts shot by the matrons and the magical barrage cast by Lana''s undying shadows.


    "Do not think these paltry things will save you, Matron Etyl! I am Opal of the Blackblood, Twilight Empress of the Brightest Night! Born and raised in the Hells! Demon slaying is child''s play!" My first cleric sneered.


    The wings protruding from Opal''s hips glowed with a crepuscular light before they flapped, shooting her across the Dark Sky like a falling star. Blades of light, shrouded in darkness, formed and flew toward Matron Noqutyl''s demons with each sweep of her wings, growing to colossal statures from the steadily increasing radiance pouring off of her armor. "The Elven Devil is Eternal!" Opal declared, rising to levitate beneath me, her arms spread wide. "The Owl''s blessings are infinite!" My spirit churned with the worship, dispensing the energies of my Divine Sea into the Brightest Night''s biomechanical heart, beating louder as Opal raised her lance''s point to me.


    Reaching down, I gently touched its point, sending darkness radiating from Opal''s armor to obscure the dying matrons, Etyl, and their demons in the comforting abyss, until Opal''s movement released the point from my fingertip.


    "Long may his feathers reign!"


    Stellar feathers of all types and spectra filled the surrounding space, forming a nebulous halo around Opal that precipitated a radiant deluge on the demons below. Their bristles elongated into a sweeping fans as they fell, blinding the air with their radiance and enraging the winds they displaced as they fell, burning and barreling through everything in their path, leaving none for their companions, spread virtual light-years behind them.


    The Snroeslm, assumed to be fear-inducing beasts of torture, carnage, and little more, were without the combat wits to evade, counter, or defend. They lashed wildly at their closest target, Cononthoth, assailing them with tail swipes and walls of shadowfire while she skittered around the wall, remaining at Matron Etyl''s flanks, who was proving to be leagues above the rest.


    With the remaining staff of G''eldantaar enveloped in a webbed cocoon where she left it below, Etyl''s body positively radiated Lilith''s crimson aura. She danced between the rain like wood elves were said to frolic around flowers, mana forged crossbow in hand and firing wildly upon Cononthoth, Opal, me, and the growing crowd of liberated drow, far below.


    Every second filled the cavern with more chaos, bringing her closer to me. Streams of flaming wax and detonating bolts of arcana rocked the cavern with increasing intensity as the demons fell one by one. Domains of unbridled madness and webs of pure chaos manifested and fizzled beneath my twilight. Infernal fires and mana forged spells battled against shadowfire and the void. And in the heart of it all, darkness loomed.


    It started as an opening only Etyl and I could notice with our displaced sense of time; although she did not. An arbitrary space the rain seemed to avoid, despite its proximity to her. Being so, the ambient, smoke-like darkness aggregated into a pit, or rather, an eye that opened to reveal a shadowed realm, similar to the Darkworld, with mountains of collapsed black stone and oceans of dark ooze. Thus, Etyl couldn''t sense the Shadow Realm opening up behind her; only the being of crimson eyes and feathered robes within.


    Fueled by divine twilight, Tava pounced onto Etyl''s back and sank her fangs into her neck before she could fully react. One gulp made Tava''s spirit burst. Two gulps made Etyl shudder. Then, Tava pushed off, drifting down and out of the way of Kele, swinging her great hammer down from the Shadow Realm''s skies.


    "PITIABLE CHILD!"


    Crimson divine mana and roiling arcana boomed with Etyl''s words, deflecting Kele''s hammer but sending the matron plummeting all the same. Canceling her spell, Opal gave chase, followed by Tava and Kele, with Cononthoth skittering down the walls, shadowfire roiling in her throat.


    It was as curious as it was concerning. The last of the matrons had just fallen. Their families and Houses were sundered, and Zimysta was no more. Even their demons had been slain and their divine tree had been voided. Yet, here Etyl was, surpassing Imperator Opal in terms of divine energy. Even with Opal, Tava, Kele, and Cononthoth fucking jumping her, Matron Etyl still had the edge. For now, at ;east; as a millennium of experience would tell her this was a losing battle. For the drow beyond Zimysta Falls, however, it was a different story.


    Landing along the wall in Cononthoth''s path, Etyl spread her arms wide and spun on her heels, facing the dragon''s breath with a thunderclap of crimson webs. They coiled and plumed from her fingertips, accelerated by the shockwave into a vortex of cutting and ripping malevolence that burrowed through the cone of Shadowfire like a hot knife through wax. Cononthoth evaded at the last minute with an agile skip, negating the attack to a shallow groove in her scales. She slunk into the shadows as Opal and Tava pincer''d with feathered bolts, stellar bullets, and blooded blades as they swept in, weapons poised low and high.


    Sidestepping into a ducking spin, Etyl danced her blades around her shoulders, casually deflecting and dodging the volley until a metallic feather sank between her chitinous plates. She dipped and rolled into a handstand to launch herself off the wall while arcana roiled around her, forming a cocoon of crimson webs that spun and shrank into a needle-thin line before her presence disappeared entirely.


    A disturbance in the darkness pulled my attention to the opposite wall, several meters lower; my eyes and Cononthoth''s. The divine dragon of darkness was on her in an instant. Her massive tail swept a large arc across the wall she hid on and the darkness shuddered against it, opening a tear in the shadows to Etyl''s rear. From Etyl''s perspective, she spun to see the darkness congealing into a wall of midnight scales burning into the very air as it swept toward her. She could not block or dodge, such was the speed and scale. Thus, a dull, hardly perceptible thud echoed before her form, enveloped in dark fire, was seen rocketing down the cavern.


    Etyl had more to give, however. Small shockwaves of arcana dispersed the shadowfire burning her and simultaneously faced her retrograde. Then, her blades went into their dance, projecting a flurry of slashes and spells at the evading Cononthoth, all while casting crimson webs and chaotic bursts at Opal and Tava.


    The momentum reversed when Etyl landed on a pad of webs spawned from her feet. Tava and Kele engaged with divine spells and hammer swings from above and to the left while Cononthoth and Limy approached with breath and fist from below and the right; Opal faded into the gloom; I descended to that violet staff of chaos.


    Perhaps in knowing she was beset on all sides, Etyl did the unthinkable and faced what she assumed to be the biggest threat with a fighter''s stance. She sheathed her mana forged blades into her spirit, replacing them with knife-hands packed to the brim with arcana while she wove a many-layered clamshell of arcane wards and crimson webs to stave the other three. And when the dark flames of Cononthoth''s breath filled her vision, she lunged, parting the sea of flames into a deep dale, headed by a stellar light that was her target, Cononthoth.


    Carried by her momentum, Etyl rushed into the beast''s maw with arcana crackling around her hands, reforming her deadly scimitars before they lashed out like vipers. Yet, all her blades caught was darkness. A slate black hand rushed forward from the shadows to grasp Etyl''s wrist an instant later, appearing a full meter below her target. Surprised by the giantess of a drow suddenly appearing before her, Etyl hardly resisted Cononthoth''s - or rather, Sovereign Galendra''s pull.


    While her feet were lifted from the ground, Etyl still managed a half-assed block of the Sovereigns monstrous punch. She was only blown back by a couple of meters and rebounded immediately, wheeling around to Sovereign Galendra''s rear with enough speed to produce an afterimage, twin blades poised low for a rising sweep. She caught Limy instead. The undying shadow faded into ribbons of flesh to reveal Tava in her place, blood blades spawned in a ring around her. Yet, the moment they lunged and the instant Etyl reacted, the night grew bright.


    Gilded metal enveloped Etyl''s frame like the sun''s corona during a solar eclipse, obscuring all but the predacious crimson eyes looking down on the matron, cursing the burning radiance and the sapping darkness of the Brightest Night.


    Thrashing with everything she had, Etyl managed to push her off. Yet Opal''s magic remained. Streaking ribbons of blood poured from Etyl''s neck and gushed through her fingers as she manifested a mass of healing webs. Tava''s blades went into action before the webs could fully form, yet Etyl persisted. She leaped high and remained levitating, flipping to dodge and continue her healing while her webs carried her to safety, even while keeping an eye on the blood shield forming in Opal''s free hand. Yet, she was losing her edge. Blood blades clinked against her armor in places, lacerating exposed skin and adding more threats to her cloud of doom.


    Through it all, I had been descending, and had just drifted to a halt before the last piece of G''eldantaar, held in place by a few crimson webs with no other protection. I connected to Limy''s soul in my Under as I reached for it, guiding her resurrection to the top of this inverted pot. As my intent washed over Cononthoth, she ordered Kele to detach from the wall and plummet to the bottom of this chasm, where Reina''s taproot waited.


    The Void Devil''s Tongue unfurled from my mouth as my hand fell around the staff, making the more wicked parts of my spirit flare in anticipation of hearing my words in Deep Abyssal.


    "As is my empire above, so are the lands below; beset by the sky spread between them. So is Light. So is darkness. So is the Twilight to fuel the Gloom''s horns, returning her essence to those realms beyond the sky. As above, so below."


    Light, darkness, and nearly all the divine mana in my spirit gushed down my arm like a stampede of energy pushed into a panic by the wicked mana goading it forward. The crimson-violet grains of the staff I held twitched and writhed as if it were a beast, expressing its dying throes after having been slain by the divine black grains creeping down its length, illuminating it from within by an unholy light. Blinding light poured from above not a fraction of a second later, eclipsed by Tava, floating above with her wings spread wide to purify and concentrate the radiance. Simultaneously, Kele stood far below, using rising sweeps of her arms to guide my deepest darkness into a point and send it skyward like an abyssal geyser.


    From above and below, dissimilar energies, material compositions, and seeds of consciousness surged toward this small portion of the Dark Sky. The result was most spectacular.


    Empowered by the light, Tava dove, thrusting out her arm to eject a beam of solid light. Etyl sent out a thrust of her own as if she foresaw the move, releasing a roiling red wave of chaos that made the light lose its luster, fizzle, and fade into a stream of webs. Opal followed with a spear of darkness and Etyl flared with her mana forged blade, shattering the shadows from afar. Cononthoth attacked with her breath and Etyl spat her goddess'' malice, rendering a dragon''s wrath moot. All were diversions, however, for I had one more curse to bestow this staff.


    Pointing its darkened point at the ancient drow, I let all the wickedness pour from my spirit and onto my first ancestor''s tongue, causing the staff''s inner glow to shift from gold to a deeper black before it sprang forth, lashing her very soul with a mark that would persist across death''s door.


    "Welcome to the family, Aunt Etyl."

 423 - True Name

    Abbot Eiriol Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    So much, and yet so little, happened over the last thirteen or so days since Amun''s departure. The Halls seemed so empty. Not even the echoes of the highest ranking monks remained when they returned to their matrons. It was akin to when I first descended to these lands juxtaposed against everything I had done since, enabling me to move through and see all the work that made the ancient monastery what it was. That, and the seemingly effortless march that made it a distant memory.


    Of course, I had known this would happen long ago. Deep in my heart, I knew Nydorden Halls would become like Zimysta Falls - broken and forever changed. Yet I was not forced to accept it until I received word from Headmaster Knagh, as I did every year. This time, however, his word came with the news that the millennial class would be the Bodhi Tree''s last, and that an addendum was made to the list of guilds attending this year''s tournaments. One besides the Optimus Regni - The Legio Noctis.


    Thinking about the humans I toyed with last year, Doyle Wolfgang and Olga Godzuik, I realized the time for me to decide would soon come. Only to peer through the weave to Zimysta and understand that time was soon to pass. And so, I ate the strange fruit given to me by the Elven Devil.


    Now part of this¡­ nebula, I could witness all that transpired below. I could witness my worst fears coming to fruition, for the sole thing I could focus on in that dreary space was my liberated great-grandson, Etan Za''Darmondiel, smiling in the face of the Demon Spider. Though I knew my biggest dream had come true when he departed, I could not help but stay angry at what I saw, heard, felt; motivating me to spend my time training, learning more of this masterful class bestowed upon me by a true deity. In time, others joined the nebula, their spirits radiating far and wide across the Darkworld; Evar, and dozens more. Hundreds more joined Etan in those foul pits, pitted to endure the frustrations of their sisters in that cruel web of red until the drow of legend graced that foul tower with his presence, bringing about the time for me to join them.


    I descended. Not on the dropping pods made by Amun, but by the power of the nebulous expanse brought into the plane of material via his essence. And though it still took time, I could hear and see all that transpired within our nebula of monastic drow. I could see the vibrancy of what used to be Zimysta Falls so far below. The former spider-shaped cavern had been reformed into a devilish or perhaps draconic heart, beating ever so slowly. What used to be an arched ceiling of deep pockets and stalactites became a vast sea of milky darkness speckled with divine light that reflected beautifully off the striated bands of vibrant purple and orange stones lining the walls like musculature. The Arcane Tower and the Tower of Might were distant memories; one being reformed into Eban''s ring and the other having been destroyed by Telin''s Champion. Now, there was only G''eldantaar, uprooted and exposed to the eyes of nearly 48,000 drow and ten times as many slaves, watching from far below, their tears filled with everything from wrath to veneration for the divine beings spread amongst Zimysta''s fallen Eyes and the one who stood above them all.


    Like me, they bore close witness to the string of insults aimed at their matrons and their goddess. Between that, the Troupe, and the seething voice of the matrons, it was hard for several drow to concentrate on any one thing. Even those in our nebula seemed to suddenly remember a most important fact every time they heard a matron. We were Drow. Puppets to the Queen Demon Spider; and she did not like her toys straying. Yet, all of Zimysta, drow or not, had grown to understand that Amun was also drow; and he kept no pets, only the dead.


    That was made apparent through the rain of destruction precipitated by his Troupe. Yet, I could see what our fellow drow could not. I could see through this nebula. And so too could I hear the voices of the drow I brought here from Youtera; them and their descendants; I could see the endless sea of apprehensive faces matching their voices. Many agreed with his words, yet there were outliers, of course. Young drow, priestesses in training, and even males who feared the Arachnid so much they couldn''t imagine turning away from her, as that in itself was an unforgivable sin. And yet, there were many more who anxiously held their gazes toward the sounds of chaos above or stared wide-eyed at the swirling vortex of arcana surrounding the chosen few around them.


    I could hear him speaking of my great-grandson, his teacher- his Regent; and the act of war committed against him. I could feel the power in his name pour through our nebula, breaking the shackles on his spirit that kept his divinity shrouded; but not hidden. And thus, with a sense close to desperation, I spurred myself onward, eager to resonate with our evolved ki. On and on, I accelerated until a wicked darkness consumed me. And in a burst of light, I was birthed into space meters above the largest gathering of drow I''d seen in centuries, standing in a place I hadn''t been in many more. Even then, more levitated behind or above me. More importantly, a few floated close by my sides.


    "Etan! What is this?" someone pleaded, pointing at me, the forsaken Matron who created these falls that once were.


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    "This is your liberation!" Etan shouted, turning to them. "Your minds are free of the webs spun over them by the Spider-Cunt, and this mutation that harms us in the light has been removed. So chose how you wish to live! Continue to live in this lair. Live free in his empire. Join his clergies. Fight in his Legions. Or, if you are able, join me as a member of his Troupe. Or forge your own path!" He shouted, turning to the masses. "Spread among the Darkworld. Return to the surface. This is what it means to be free. Faith or no faith, that is what you are!"


    The boldness made many present excited. Yet their fear was placated by the anticipation of a great battle. Only for a wave of wickedness to come upon us. The cavern once again fell silent as every being within froze their movements. And for an endless moment, we waited.


    "Now witness the glory of the Exalted Gloom!"


    We saw many figures leap from the structure at that moment. Then, a sickening presence spread across the cavern. Many unseasoned drow began shaking or fell to their knees cowering, while many seasoned drow knew exactly the cause of such a potent fear-inducing aura.


    Dragons.


    A dragon of pure necrotic darkness, whose presence echoed baleful music and formed arcane words at the source of that terrible aura, as if the universe itself wanted to ensure everyone who witnessed this moment would retell it with piercing accuracy.


    [Divine Dragon of Darkness: Cononthoth, the Exalted Gloom.]


    Even I was enthralled. Not just at her might, but at the prowess displayed by Etyl, fending off not just the dragon''s attacks but the sweeping glances of two divinely empowered vampyr and a shade-touched deep gnome''s hammer. Though, empowered by demons or not, she was eventually cornered by the Elven Devil''s unholy light, consuming all the foulness above us. Then... there was nothing to bear witness to, for a peculiar voice drew our attention to the space before us, far below the battle.


    "So, what do you say?"


    As one, the masses looked down and saw both a familiar and an unfamiliar visage. Amun, dressed in a coattail''d cloak of darkness, with horns, a slim chevroned tail, and sharp claws.


    "T- the Elven Devil."


    "Yes." He grinned at the crowd, showing many sharp teeth in his jaws. "It is more than just a moniker to denote the two sides of my heritage. Now then." He turned, words held on his lips, only for them to be silenced by the most horrid screech to befell my ears.


    "AMUN ZA''DARMONDIEL-NOX!"


    I don''t know what made my eyes widen more: the name, the powerful roars of victory coming from the dragon above, or the star of infernal flames roiling before Amun; though my eyes remained on the latter. As did every drow present.


    From within those fiery flames, the most beautifully uncanny drow I had ever seen appeared. She held a lithe frame from the waist up, covered in a robe and headdress of ruby-studded gossamer. Yet her bulbous arachnid body and spider legs, studded with golden wreaths and crimson jewels, erected her 22 meters in height beneath the ghost of her temple; still dozens of meters above. Her eyes, colored with the same vibrancy as her gems, were large, lidless, and without pupils. Yet they somehow held the same sense of unadulterated rage and hostility shown in the trembles of the insectoid arms clenched around her ribs.


    Everyone present, drow, Troupe, liberated slave, and Amun alike - everyone knew this was the Queen Demon Spider''s Avatar. And her presence meant one thing. The drow of Zimysta were forsaken. And not just that...


    "Wow!" Amun snorted, turning to face the Queen Demon Spider. "You appeared with the name you didn''t think I knew I had. Your matron, here made it far too obvious, I''m afraid." He snorted again, looking down at the limp but breathing form of Etyl Za''Darmondiel lying at his feet. "Didn''t think I''d have to antagonize you so much to get you to appear, though. Regardless, well met, Lilith."


    Without so much as moving her lips, Lilith''s voice boomed with the rage of a thousand demons. "Second son of the righteously forsaken Eved Za''Darmondiel. Grandson of the great Etym Za''Darmondiel. Great-Grandson of the forsaken deliverer, Eiriol. Nephew of Etyl Za''Darmondiel. Telin has decreed that you belong of this most distinguished house - MY HOUSE!" She jammed a massive finger towards the seemingly tiny Elven Devil, trailed by the accusing finger of her smaller arm beneath it. "I have long awaited your birth on the Mortal Plane, Amun. I have planned long for this day since I first divined it. This was not how fate was to unravel!" She roared, silencing the subtle beating of this cavern for an endless moment. Then she leaned closer. "Why do you act against me?"


    "And here I thought my mother was a renegade." Amun boyishly snorted.


    "WAS!" Lilith snapped, conjuring a spinning web that bore the sight of a drow I only recognized in distant memory. And though she was dressed like an esteemed priestess, she was not dressed in the gossamer and crimson of Lilith''s followers.


    "You care not for your mother?" She leaned forward, discarding the illusion with a face of concern upon witnessing Amun''s placid reaction.


    "Well." Amun shrugged. "She''s a capable lady. She can take care of herself."


    "With my grace." Lilith sneered.


    "Doubtful." Amun huffed, not daunted in the slightest. "I mean, look how fickle that grace is. It''s been given to no male drow in history. So, why would I believe you''d give it to little ole me?"


    "You know why!" Lilith scowled. "You are the Eternal Champion. Telin''s Destroyer. Amun Za''Darmondiel-Nox! You were supposed to rule the males!"


    "In your name?" Amun full-on laughed- cackled, almost. "No, Lilith. My only ''task'' as Telin''s Champion is to live as I see fit. I only rule over the dead, and my followers have the knowledge and power to self-govern and explore these realms as they please. With or without my grace."


    For the first time since she appeared, Lilith''s avatar turned away from Amun to look at Etan, whose glare drilled holes into her eyes. She then turned to the Elven Devil''s Troupe scattered around the airs above; then to the vampyr, undying shadows, and the strange bald deep gnome; and then above, to where the divine dragon of shadow was perched beside the ghost of her temple; before finally turning her baleful eyes to me. And for the first time in my long life, I stared my demon in the eye.

 424 - Amun ZaDarmondiel-Nox

    Amun Za''Darmondiel-Nox.


    ***


    I know not what she saw in that moment, the Queen Demon Spider, Lilith. The inverse of what I witnessed, I assumed. A comparatively tiny creature stepping on her most-esteemed matron, left beaten and half-dead from the might of a shadow dragon - the Shadow Dragon, perched behind her in the remnants of a once-grand temple. And before her, some 48,000 drow dimming in the eyes of her divine sight.


    Simultaneously, I felt... something pull me toward her when she said my full name, but it was tame when compared to the towering beast I saw standing on a web within the newly conquered Darkheart. She simultaneously radiated power and lacked it entirely, like the ghost of a once-great warrior who could only prove their might via the aura they radiated. An innate or even designed feature of this avatar, I assumed, if not an effect of the regiment of dark elves glowing behind me.


    47,559 drow with no faith in the Queen Demon Spider; either of their own accord or hers. Of course, many of them were males. But there were still several females who suddenly prayed for me to save them from their demon appearing before their eyes. And that was several too many for Lilith. That, however, was the least of her problems.


    "Now do you understand, Lilith? Dead or alive, faith or no faith, I will always be here. Unlike you. That, Lilith, is what makes me Eternal. Now then." I spread my arms, smiling at this titanic demoness of a drow. "Are we going to come to an agreement? Or do we have to get violent?"


    "An agreement?" she clenched her fists, squeezed her ribs with those spidery arms, and leaned into a foul sneer. "No matter your offer, we can agree that I will bring my unfettered wrath upon everything you have ever known, much less that which you hold dear. Your precious Maruleans! Your pathetic realm! Your empire! Your Legions! They will burn! AND YOU CAN HAVE THESE PATHETIC, TRAITOROUS DROW!" Lilith spat smoldering comets of spittle as she waved her towering frame over the mob behind me, filling the crowd with the pops of exploding demonic energy and the gasps of those who witnessed it. "There are countless more across the realms who will have their sights set on you for eternity, Elven Devil! Your so-called friends! Your devil-kin! Your damnable clan! Amun Za''Darmondiel-Nox, the realms will suffer in anguish until I have you strung in my Crimson Labyrinth! How is that for a bargain?"


    Grinning wide, I accepted her end of the deal with a nod, then let the Void Devil''s Tongue dangle from my mouth to let the Deep Abyssal words flow. "Very well. In exchange, I, Amun Za''Darmondiel-Nox, will claim the soul of every drow sacrificed in your name, Lilith. Those who have or have had your grace and perish - Elven Devils. Those you deem pathetic and traitorous - Drow Paragons. All those claimed by the Nox - Night Elves. Forever shall they remember the life ruined in your name, and together we will venture into your Crimson Labyrinth and bring change to you, Lilith."


    Though I assumed she couldn''t understand my words, her the wide jewels of wrathful eyes narrowed into horrified rage as the ambient arcana melded with the wickedness flowing from me. Her burning eyes widened as they coalesced and inscribed themselves into a contract forged between us, completing the deal she so hastily agreed to.


    "NO!" she clawed at the words to no avail.


    "Oho, yes! The unthinking arrogance of a enraged demon spider!" Cononthoth''s sourceless laugh rippled through the darkness. "Even you could not sense the devilish owl swooping in from behind you."


    Indifferent to Cononthoth''s probes, Lilith towered her sneering frame over me to consume my vision with those lidless red eyes and roared. "You have written no contract! I have signed nothing! You are no devil that should exist, abomination! Rogue! Not even Zefroth had that power."


    "Well, I''m not Zefroth, am I?" I calmly retorted. "Though I am set upon his path, I am Amun, the Twenty-Fifth Child of the Nox. The Elven Devil."


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    "No mere elf can bind such power to their words, child!" She spat in kind, erecting herself to her full height. "Only Faeladrin."


    "Then call me by my other name. The Devil of the Fae." I smirked.


    "We have lost such grace!" She bellowed, extending three of her arms to point at me like a child. "You are Amun Za''Darmondiel-Nox! The first and only exalted male of the first and finest house of drow to plague the Mortal Plane! You are my descendant! You. Are. Mine!"


    "I am free, Lilith." I sighed, long worn down by my thinned patience. "I belong to no one, for I have existed long before this universe was even a thought in Telin''s mind, blessed to be beloved by mana more so than any other in existence. Even the Archfae. Even you and the other deities, elven or not; primordial or not. So, if we''ve truly lost such grace, perhaps I''ll get it back for us."


    "The fact stands." She immediately retorted, and with an unnerving calm. "You are my descendant, just as you are a descendant of Zefroth. You are Drow, Amun Za''Darmondiel-Nox. And though I abhor you for standing against me, I created this avatar to end our first battle, and mark the start of our eternal war; for I am proud that, of all creatures in the realms, Telin chose my Drow to be mixed with Noxiana''s coveted blood to create his champion.


    "But do not let this be your mistake, child." She leaned forward, sneering. "My drow of Youtera will plague you long after Tiatus has died. My demons will hunt you throughout your undying night. I will show you no mercy."


    "Of course." I smiled. "Mercy is for the weak, after all. And so, Lilith, don''t be surprised when I come to your Crimson Web and show you mercy. I''ll corrupt you like the rest of your dear matrons and free you as well. So fuck off until then."


    With a flick of the Void Devil''s Claws, the abyss poured from my spirit, ejecting from my palm to rise and expand into a cylinder of nothingness that swallowed Lilith''s avatar wholly. Not even the echoes of her sneer remained for an endless second before the air began violently displacing, wherein I opened the floodgates to let the void cascade into me.


    I could''ve sworn I felt... something at that moment. A spark of energy or a notion of expansion or¡­ something. But my thoughts were cut short by a cacophony of gasps and shouts erupting from behind me. Setting that aside for later, I turned to them at once with a weary smile. I was so fucking tired of this place, yet there was work to do still. Directly before me were Etan, Eban, and Evar, levitating around Abbot, or rather, Granny Eiriol,  staring at me with as much shock as everyone else.


    Rightfully, she ignored the ensuing murmurs regarding her being down here as if that still mattered, and asked. "What happens now? To you? To us?"


    "Well." I shrugged. "This cavern belongs to her now." I pointed up to Cononthoth and laughed as their eyes widened at the Exalted Gloom, displaying her greatness to the crowd before she disappeared. "As per our deal, she won''t torment any of you."


    "I- is that¡­" she began, only to cut herself off with a well-controlled fit of laughter. Not to say it wasn''t warranted. On the contrary, it was safe to assume everyone involved still wondered what happened to the red dragon I was set to face last year. Given all that''d been happening, only a few managed to piece it together.


    Leaving her to her own means, I took a moment to seal off the Cursed Well and assume my usual form before turning to the crowd of anxious drow. "Anyway, this place is now the Darkheart, a beating cavern that feeds her twilight and pours her gloom into the lands. You are hereby free. What you do is up to you, but I intend to accept responsibility for you all by asking you to join me. Though you cannot dwell within my divine realm until you die, you can visit as you live in my Empire. You can join my Troupe or my Legion if you can complete the training and meet my standards. Otherwise, if you want to live on your own, becoming a paragon will make you unbothered by the light. Among other things.


    "Honestly." I let out an even bigger great sigh once Abbot Eiriol - Granny Abbot rejoined the fray; I was so tired of all of this. "I didn''t do this to free all of you. That was Etan''s wish, and he is my champion. Thus I obliged. When he returned, Etyl tortured him and sought to turn him into a twisted mockery of himself. That warranted her destruction. However, Etyl is my aunt, and Nergal¡¯s rules prevent us from killing kin or raising them as undead. So, I corrupted her. The clerics, priestesses, and matrons who fell in this battle - those who were swallowed in darkness, at least - are not dead." I said flatly, looking as many drow in the eye as I could. "They are in my Underworld, slowly but surely being... for lack of a better word, reborn as the first Elven Devils. So, in short, do what you want. Follow your dreams. Stay here in the Darkworld and be wicked. Test yourself by exploring the surface or live free from squalor on my woven worlds above. Whatever you do, you''ll have the power to keep the demon spiders at bay; and with that, anyone else. So figure out what you want to do with your freedom until we leave.


    "Between that and now, though," I paused, turning a sly grin about the Troupe. "We fuckin¡¯ relax!"

 425 - Zimystian Dawn

    What was supposed to have been eight days in Arcanis Praesyris and a tenday in G''eldantaar wound up being eighteen days of festivities, reconstruction, reconciliation, and organization within the Darkheart. Regarding the former, that came almost immediately and lasted for two days. Freki summoned a literal train load of prepared food. Then called in another train of provisions for Sam''s Kitchen, constructed on the deep lake resting before the Darkheart. Similarly, music echoed from Rickley, Selph, and several others on nebulous asteroids orbiting throughout the space. Thus beginning a night of partying that began dreadfully slow. Though, with time, tension unwound in more ways than one could think.


    Come ''morning,'' far more asteroids had been woven throughout the cavern; one for each Troupe member and many more for those who flocked to them. By far, though, Blude''s lake was still the most populous. Not just because of Sam''s Kitchen, but because of the structures that''d been built around it. Her version of a strip mall, where after one was fed, they would enter to be stripped, cleaned, and clothed like royalty before they were sent on their way. For many, that way led to Freki''s asteroid. Not to join one of his regiments, but to join him in revelry. Beings of all types ate, drank, sang, danced, and cried until they slept in the open fields of that seemingly small rock. When they woke, however, many found themselves intrigued by a certain something in the distance: the Troupe, eager to teach and recruit.


    Leary''s asteroid, for example, had become a castle of bone that held full-time lessons for the many goblin-kin and several other species as well, such as the kobolds. Conversely, an army of dwarves and humans could be found alongside drow as they learned about the many types of technology within the empire; as was a gang of shady alchemists and artificers with Wilson, particularly the older ones fascinated with death and immortality. Others took a more hands-on approach. With Rickley, a literal field of drow, including the former lore master, Selph, practiced Rickley''s macabre style using the many ''strange'' instruments I brought into this universe; their performance enraptured by the crowd of rogues and other sly types huddling around them. Many, many elves and, surprisingly, orcs learned the true depth of Reina''s power once her Life Center reversed the effect of consuming Darkworld cuisine for so long; thus making many, many elves and several orcs fascinated with the Divine Mother and her grasp on life itself. And between all of those worlds swept blue-white streaks born from Geri''s asteroid, where she and her followers elected to give joyrides to any who dared hop on or in one of her crafts.


    By the time the cycle of partying, resting, mingling, and repeating had been broken, nearly every structure had been claimed, bringing about the time of construction. In quick work, the barebones walls of the beating Darkheart had been fabricated into a grandiose Sanctuary of Twilight, fit for the Black Plume''s newest Contour, Tava of the Blackblood. Split into 4 chambers, the heart was filled with a matrix of cathedral-like spires, placed side by side in endless rows to mimic the muscled striations of the walls, leaving umbral avenues and paths of light to stretch between the crepuscular patches of nature. The inverted pot that once held G''eldantaar was granted to Cononthoth, who claimed it with my Mana Domain version of a lair stone, Arcane Agate. Once infused, it became separate but connected to the Darkheart via a ''pulmonary artery'' that pumped a steady stream of twilight into her lair, returning her gloom to the realms above and below.


    With the Troupe having already claimed their ''asteroids,'' all that was left before the real work began was a crash course on the many types of lair stones I could create, done via a flash of inspiration to those in charge of their various groups. Thus, we began with a head count.


    In short, there were many drow migrants in my kingdom - my Zed Legion. 47,559 of them. Of them, 5,682 used to be some sort of priestess, now cast aside by their goddess. The same was true for the 3,756 clerics who survived Lilith''s final purge. On top of that were the 15,213 soldiers or lesser members of the various Houses and their 4,400 monks, coupled with the 18,508 commoners, vagrants, rogues, and other nameless drow from the Lower Falls.


    Of them, the monks were the easiest to sort. Considering Etan tailored his power off of his class, melded with my Twilight and other aspects of my divinity, every Astral Monk plus Abbot Eiriol joined his organization with the sole goal of becoming instructors in the Darkroom and the Noctis Hall of Excellency. As for the forsaken clerics and priestesses, the vast majority of them chose not to follow any of my religions. 4,404 out of 9,438 of them; mostly the older ones. They only sought to become clerics of Lilith as a means to survive. Though deep in their hearts, they had other ambitions. Ambitions they could now pursue wholly.


    Conversely, 2,517 of them made the seamless transition to Twilight before separating themselves by either seeking the Black Plume or by ''befriending'' the Exalted Gloom, with the latter gaining the most followers at 1,510 members. On the other hand, 1,888 drow females of mostly younger ages sought to venture to the Order of Worlds in due time. The rest of them, for the most part, found their niches in the domain of engineering. Though it had no true religion to speak of, it did have a philosophy and way of worship that resonated with 1,101 of them. Leaving the remaining 157 to associate with mana; mostly those with weak wells or spell craft.


    With them and the monks out of the picture, that left some 18,282 drow to be added to my Zed Legion''s citizenry. That said, somewhere around a third of them sought to live under Eban. And virtually all of them wished to join the legions, monks and forsaken clerics included.


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    Drow aside, the liberated slaves varied greatly and were much higher in number. In total, there were 705,704 of them. Like in the gray dwarven stronghold, there were many dwarves, deep gnomes, and goblins paired with their stronger cousins, bearbugs and hobgoblins. And so too were there elves, minotaur, a few giants, and many more kobolds. More kobolds than anything else, actually. 162,312 of them. And almost all of them showed utter devotion to Cononthoth. Though 69 of the crafty bastards slipped away to work for Leary and another 22 went off to find Wilson, the remaining 162,199 kobolds freely drank the umbral draconic arcana flowing from above. It made me lament Snusz Silentjaw didn''t join the legions. But I was sure there was one among them who could rise to his prowess in due time.


    At 141,140, there was nearly just as many goblins. And unlike the kobolds, each of them pledged their fealty to their Goblin Emperor, Leary, alongside the 70,570 hobgoblins and 14,114 bearbugs, motivating Leary to create a harsh training regime to ''make the weak grow.''


    Approaching the population of hobgoblins was the Minotaur, at 56,456. Throughout the following days, I learned they could be quite sociable and weren''t just the dumb creatures many assumed them to be. They just couldn''t speak any of the common or even uncommon languages. With the Tongue of Cradle and Grave, however, I could converse with them easily. As such, they grew amenable to the idea of being gifted speech-capable vocal chords in the Flesh Kitchen and all but several thousand expressed an interest in patrolling the lanes between the Sanctuaries, given overwatch by the Plume. While the rest of the Troupe still got a few, most of the remaining 16,137 Minotaur were more or less split evenly between me, Blude, Etan, and Eban, either as citizens, subordinates, party members, or students, giving us roughly 1,500 each.


    Some 15,000 of the 49,340 deep gnome paragons migrated further up or downstream from Cononthoth''s lair, yet remained on the edge of the Darkheart''s territory to form new communities. And yet, nearly 7,000 more joined Etan under Tacnan Gemeye. A few thousand more devoted to journeying to the surface after hearing of Nyella and the Order of Worlds, albeit after 12,000 of them joined Iris.


    Of the 21,170 dwarven paragons, 16,936 joined Iris as well, with most of them being the former slaves of House Hun''ana, whom they still remained loyal to, even after they became Iris'' M&M''s. Another 2,562 joined Freki in some capacity, while 836 chose to live under the ArcaTech''s blessings, leaving an equal number to relocate to Shujen''s Underground to forge a new stronghold. Conversely, the 49,399 gray dwarven paragons split themselves among the Troupe''s darkest members. 5,900 went to Rickley. 6,200 went to Blude. 6,500 went to Wilson. 18,900 came to me, leaving 11,599 to dwell with Cononthoth, seeking to forge and create from her Shadowfire.


    Surprisingly or not, around 9,000 of the 28,228 orcs became paragons and went with Freki and roughly half of that went with Geri, leaving a whopping 12,728 with Reina while the remaining 2,000 or so sought to join my Legion, or in some cases, become my first death monks.


    Like every other species, each of the 21,170 ogres became paragons. And only then did they divide themselves among everyone in the Troupe, amounting for around 1,920 for each of us, give or take a few. As for the 63,513 humans and the 29,000 or so elves, many wished for a new life somewhere in the Empire. Quite a few of them were even willing to regress in both age and memory in order to grow up in our lands while yet more were willing to die and be reincarnated in the realm. A lot of elves gained an interest in the Dusk Marsh that had spread before the Darkheart started beating, and consequently, in Reina. Conversely, many humans gained an interest in Iris'' technology. By large, however, they all wanted to join the legions in some capacity.


    And so it was. Days were spent teaching and educating the newly liberated before pledges were made and changes began. Not for the newly liberated, however. Besides them becoming paragons and falling under the wing of the Zed Legions, everything else was to be earned. On the contrary, the changes were for my clergy. For Tava, my priestess who had proven herself so, she was given my blood on which to feast and a copy of the Owl''s staff for her personal use. For Limy, a sacred tome that detailed Zimysta Falls'' Era of Twilight and the lessons contained within. For Kele, a blessing of twilight for her steed. For the Exalted Gloom, the birth of a certain project involving me and the Eldritch Engineer. For Opal, my first cleric, a scroll detailing how to summon my devils, elven or not. And for the Plume as a whole, I gave them Zimystian Dawn; the last remaining branch of the divine tree, G''eldantaar, corrupted with twilight into becoming the catalyst of this Darkheart.


    With that done, eighteen days later, it was onto the next order of business. A last call was made to split up the survivors who wished to remain here or elsewhere in the Empire and those who wished to join my Zed Legion. Tava took charge of the former, leading them deeper into the Darkheart while Etan and his Nebulous Monks went ahead of us to rendezvous in the Darkroom with Doyle, stating that they''d come up something that would impress even me.


    Leaving them to it, I set a timer to issue a recall order to the Legions in 75 hours, then beamed us up to my Divine Realm of Eotrom. And with that, one half of my task for the Eternal Path was complete. Now, it was up to the Order of Worlds to mirror their actions by uplifting those on the surface. Thus, I had no worries about the Eternal Path for quite some time, and with only one level left in my monastic path and my plateau on Artificing reached, there were only two paths to take for the road ahead.


    Two paths to be taken simultaneously after the mid-year ceremony. One by me. One by The Owl. For he had time to kill. And I had immensely more people who, for whatever reason, wished me dead. Ironically so.


    Which meant I had a few toys to make before I returned to campus.


    ***


    [The Path of Zefroth: Step 6 - The Hand That Gives. To be accepted in the Underworld''s training halls, a devil must possess no-less than 10,000 souls. Only then can they learn the art of Devil Kenpo.]


    [Soul Mastermind, Rogue Devil: Step 6 - The Brutes. To be unbranded as a Rogue requires you to corrupt good-aligned warriors into committing wicked acts as you guide them to their deaths, and once reborn as devils, have them serve as an elite task force in your fiendish endeavors.]

 426 - Excellence

    Evar ''Two-Heart'' Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    A burst of that golden light disappeared the oppressive shadow of Zimysta Falls forever. In its place was a wide dais of tiled stone, overlooking a never-ending sky swathed in motes of light, vibrant clouds, and a giant point of blue light shining at a distance that could only be called extreme. Wind blared around us, screaming in a frenzy as mad as the devil who summoned us here.


    It was¡­ too much. Everything was.


    Many were overwhelmed by the realm''s sheer vastness. Even with the knowledge that came from their blessings, many grew nauseous, threw up, or even passed out from sensory overload. But a few were not shocked in the slightest. Abbot Eiriol, me, Sid, and of course, my sons, Etan and Eban. Before we could even recover or catch our bearings, however, Amun appeared. Or rather, a facsimile of him formed before each of us in different forms, much like Telin during his intervention. But even then, his voice radiated throughout the realm, explaining that everyone who came here from Zimysta Falls would exist within the capital of his Empire of Empires, which itself existed both in the mortal realms and here, in the center of his divine realm. In both places, our new lands appeared as a chain of mostly spherical realms orbiting his world, Mani.


    On its surface, seen from the Mortal Plane, Mani was a barren desert of fine blue-white sand imbued with Amun''s holy power. Inside, however, existed his divine realm of Eotrom. A vast, perhaps infinite space filled with dozens upon dozens of stars and clusters of these spherical realms, all connected to his phantasmal divine tree.


    He pointed out the various ''worlds'' of the Troupe, then motioned to the vibrant field spread around the ''system.'' A truly vast cloud of gas and dust appeared as Etan''s true self on a magnificent scale, with Mani and the Troupe''s worlds placed in various points of its body. Just like mine, Abbot Eiriol''s, and a few others in the immense distance. It was a sight that made every drow present weak in the knees, for the remaining 4,400 astral monks would attain the same power of the Nebulous Way.


    It was in the depths of that nebula where Etan wove his world, and where we of the Astral Way were guided. Like many other places, it was a vast sphere of greens, whites, browns, and every other color imaginable, half swathed in light. Yet unlike those worlds, we quickly realized, it was without the mana our species depended on; the mana Youtera created life from.


    "Shortly after I joined Amun," Etan began. "I concluded that only a species of gods in the shape of humans could come to realize such truths and hold such power after only a few hundred thousand years of existence using to magic. Simultaneously, I realized he shared his knowledge and power too freely. And so, I made this timeless world without magic to test his legionaries with the skills those gods developed - skills that have no need for magic - to make them worthy. One of my clones has remained here since the world was created, learning to thrive in such a way. But before even that, we found something truly special." My son, Etan, beamed in a way I never saw before. "Within a dungeon in Redagh, we found an ancient relic placed there by the Raven Reaper herself. The vestige of Ari-Zmon. Upon arriving here, Amun and I ventured into the Astral Plane to find them, then returned here to summon them, forging a pact that gave rise to what you see around you. The Noctis Halls of Excellency."


    While the name Ari-Zmon was worth pondering, we were astounded by the stone halls that had been made with bare hands. A vast realm of cities, labyrinths, and natural spaces meticulously crafted as a course that led to the bowels of this world. Bowels Etan steadily guided us toward.


    I grew ever curious as Etan led us deeper into his world. As did the rest of us. Even Abbot Eiriol. In the light of braziers, a most-curious history was carved into the stone. A history of¡­ progress, and war. A tale of creation using the resources of the realms to cause as much destruction as an Arch-Wizard, if not a magus. And at its end was a hidden chamber. Within sat another facsimile of Amun, standing around a strange silver mushroom, large and with many conduits protruding from its flesh.


    The light it radiated was like an illusory field, depicting miniature renditions of those legendary legionaries we heard so much about, paired with twenty well-dressed surface dwellers seated at a ringed table. Pleasantries were exchanged as we gathered, declaring how much we, the Troupe, and the others had changed while we remarked on the strangeness of their background. After, Amun gave us a rundown of military business while simultaneously finalizing the Legions'' standards with these Imperators, as they were called.


    By his order, the military of this¡­ ''Hill Base'' was to remain separate from the Legions until further notice. Yet their rules and regulations regarding requests would remain the same. Above all, the doctrine stated that the Legio Noctis does not work for money. That said, we would not work for free. Even if it is a meal and a bed, information, a favor, a pledge of loyalty, prisoners, or anything else, it will suffice. However, the final decision would goes to the commanding officer. The decision to ally with, conquer, or destroy any place or entity is to be decided by that unit''s Commander, Executor, General Officer, and Marshal, only after much consideration; as we would often be working in political environments wherein allying with one group would mean warring with another. Regardless, every township within our territory would have a guild office for potential recruits and requests.


    In terms of recruits, there were no standards, essentially. The Legions would accept everyone from the most wicked to the most innocent; the healthiest to those on death''s door. If they must, the latter would be killed and raised as undead. Cripples and the mentally unstable could be healed, reformed, and rehabilitated before or even during their service. And the same was true for moral compasses and alignments. Regardless, whether it be the guild or military, those who have made their pledge would be known as the Uninitiated. And so, the job of recruiters would be to ensure the Initiated were serious in their endeavors. For, once they finished the paperwork and made their pledge - without selling their souls - they would remain under the protection of the Legions until they shipped out to Eotrom.


    Etan then spoke up, stating that their arrival to Mani would be met with a parade, of sorts, through the capital, where they would see the most recent graduates emerging from the Darkroom. Its end would serve as the handoff to the instructors. Thus marking the start of the Reception Phase. While split into nine nights, the many of the phases took place over several days. Though time alteration, those on the outside would see them remain in each place for only one. It began with a psychological assessment dubbed, The March. The task was to complete 48 hours of movement across the soundless expanse of Mani''s surface. No matter how much they paced themselves, each recruit would spend 48 hours traveling alone, with the clock only ticking while they''re moving. There would be no conversing, they would not even be within visual range of one another, and they could use no magic or mana bolstering. Through isolation, loneliness, and perhaps a sense of despair, we instructors would learn of these recruits and gain the perspective needed to separate the strong from the weak.


    After Night 1, they would enter the first world orbiting the Darkroom and begin Night 2, the Soul Screening. Though, it was stated that every subsequent phase would have them see eight hours of sleep with two hours of leisure between the fourteen hours of operation, besides three meals per day. This was to put them in a place of comfort before it was ripped out from beneath them when they entered the Darkroom. That, and to give them time to grow acquainted with their compatriots. The Soul Screening itself lasted only 24 hours. The Uninitiated would meet some version of Amun to have their souls scanned, their spirits read, and their desires determined to tailor their promotions or benefits, measure which paths the recruits could take, and split them between the wicked and the altruistic.


    Those deemed wicked or, at the very least, those who cared for experience and thrill rather than glory or heroic deeds were, by and large, already attuned to Amun''s Twilight. But even if they were not, they would be stationed in such a place where they could act according to their beliefs. Whether that be on the surface or below ground, far away from the judgmental societies, they''d find themselves in a place that allowed them to live true to themselves, even while fulfilling their orders. For those who were not wicked, they would be the ones to be seen roaming the fair societies that thrived in the light. Living out heroic deeds so the prying eyes of society would turn a blind eye to the darker adventures of the Legions.


    Night 3 was the Administration Phase and was a tenday long. They would receive their ''slim'' uniforms - the same quilted garb, slacks, and polished loafers worn by the likes of a few among us, functional as both a combat shirt and a dress uniform. Additionally, extensive measures would be taken to identity and track each legionary for the sake of accountability; fingerprints and eye scans, among other mundane but necessary things. Throughout all of this, they would endure lectures and briefings meant to prepare them for what was to come. They would learn discipline through marches and drills, study the rank structure and Legion hierarchy, and learn the chain of command. Simultaneously, the night was structured in such a way that any recruit with interests in the information, artificing, or engineering fields may get a first-hand glimpse at the day-to-day operations therein.


    When done, Night 4 would consist of medical and dental Screenings. Using machines, magic, and in part, Amun''s ki, the Uninitiated would be assessed for everything from previous injuries to genetic disorders and have their findings recorded and put on file. Similarly, those with an interest in witchcraft could study the art from afar during this phase. The weaker debilitations and injuries were to be healed on the spot. Health problems that may flare up in old age were to be flagged and placed into a promotion package, to be granted if and when they rose to a certain rank. And with those crippled or otherwise debilitated by their injuries, they would be corrected through either surgery or magic.


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    The last things they would experience during these eight days of health screenings would be courses on anatomy and first aid, followed by a familiarization and final attunement with the various divine or celestial energies found within the Legions; not just those of Amun, but those of his Imperators, Primes, and Troupe. Afterwards, they would move on to the Mental and Moral Screenings of Night 5. Through 24 hours of interviews and often trauma-inducing illusions, we sought to gauge their intellectual capacity and level; mental state or disposition; sanity, situational awareness, usage of common sense, and other mental aspects to determine the appropriate style of learning for the individual and establish which courses of study they should prioritize. Once established, the nature of the illusions would change and another 24 hours would be set aside to analyze how each individual reacted to various types of stress, situations, or creatures.


    Night 6 was a physical screening and lasted a tenday. The Uninitiated would gain an understanding of their current strength by running obstacle courses and fighting undead shadows. During this time, they would also try out and eventually choose their favored fighting style and weapon type, and would be asked again and again to confirm their choice; as they will receive personalized training with that weapon during that very phase.


    The nights moved on, with the 7th being a tenday magical screening. No matter the species, manipulation and molding capabilities were measured day after day through a variety of tests and exercises. And, of course, those with magical capabilities were as well. Through this, mana tolerance and fatigue limits were gauged, spell power was noted, and of course, they were given technical scrolls to realize the full potential of their abilities. Then, they were off to the 8th Night, Billeting.


    Over the course of another tenday, the Uninitiated would receive their training gear and be measured for armor and dress uniforms. Furthermore, they would undergo extensive classes to learn how to use, maintain, and repair each piece of equipment. Though the pieces they would train with would be props, the ones they would receive post-graduation would remain with them for the rest of their careers, as the Noxweave woven into each piece would be tied to their souls and grow alongside them through upgrades. But that didn''t mean they were indestructible. Thus necessitating such a process. Even then, though, equipment damaged or destroyed because of negligence will be replaced or repaired at the cost of the legionary. Additionally, they would learn of the many vessels found in the Legions arsenal and take some time over the next ten days to familiarize themselves with them. More so, their aptitude for artificing, alchemy, smithing, and various other crafts, including cooking, was tested.


    Emerging into Night 9, they would have their occupations, weapons, gear, classes, and associated powers chosen. Thus, they would begin with a last meal and stock up on provisions and equipment and rest before they meet the rest of their instructors in the afternoon and enter the Darkroom.


    Much to my shock, Abbot Eiriol then stepped up, recommending a few changes be made to the Darkroom. Namely, that the Pages would no longer steal strength. With such large numbers that would only increase with time, the enemy would eventually become laughably weak, creating such fierce competition to increase strength that more important things, such as discipline, would be negated. Conversely, an immensely powerful enemy would make teamwork a necessity and increase despair. Which, for the first phase, was exactly what was needed. Not to mention, saving such things for later gave them another prerequisite for promotions and rewards.


    We agreed that the rest of the training would more or less proceed as designed, with the War Phase followed by three months of magic and martial training and another three months of battle drills before the four-month crucible. The only other object of note was that when the Uninitiated stepped foot in the dark room, they become the Unranked and begin receiving a base pay of ten gold, five silver per week.


    "At their stations, beyond the Darkroom, being promoted is an individual endeavor." Amun''s diplomatic vassal-turned-ranger, Jaimess, then said abruptly. "Junior Legionaries must first be accepted by their comrades through whatever ritual, trial, or practice they deem fit. Then they must prove their knowledge of their unit''s history, culture, and its hierarchal structure, from their squad up to the Imperator. Finally, they must show affluence for their job and the job of their superior. Only then will they be eligible for a promotion. After they have been recommended by one living legionary and one undead legionary of a higher rank outside of their direct chain of command, they are flagged for a promotion and will be scheduled to return here for the appropriate leadership training. After, they will be interviewed by a board of senior leaders, who will give the final approval or disapproval."


    "And everything else is essentially the same." Amun sighed with great satisfaction. "Everyone has the time and locale for the recall, yeah?"


    "Yes." The stoic one called Toril nodded resolutely.


    "Alright. I require all of you to train in the Darkroom with your subordinates."


    "That is only fair." Jaimess quickly nodded, an off-putting excited gleam shining in his eye. "It wouldn''t be right to lead those who''d gone through our rite of passage while we have not. And it''ll serve as a means to move further down our paths."


    "That''s the spirit!" Amun grinned. "Rodin and the others from Hill Fortress will be training before you all, however. And these future instructors will be going before them."


    "Hill... Fortress?" The Iron Magus'' daughter, Roheisa, asked. "Not Hill Base?"


    "Nah." Amun smirked in that boyish way of his. "You''ll see why afterwards. For now, we rendezvous and hand out rewards before you begin your training. You and those with you will be renowned across all the Legions as its founding members. Primes, triply blessed as a reward for being the first official class. Those who come before the end of the year will be blessed doubly so, and those who graduate at the end of the year will be singly blessed. After that, anyone who joins will start at the lowest rank, though they should be quite seasoned by the time we attend the Guild Master Course in a year and a half. That''s the plan, at least.


    "Regardless, these blessings can be of any domain or ability you chose," Amun told them with a wagging finger. "That includes becoming augmented, and that includes becoming Paragons, among every other thing. Once you become warlocks, those in your Legions and corps will develop the same abilities. Three of your choosing. So, make sure you pass that along and think long about what you wish to become."


    With the meeting adjourned, Etan took me, Abbot Eiriol and the thousands of monks deeper inside his world to meet the most unbelievable creature. A gargantuan sphinx of obsidian fur and onyx hair, gazing down on us with eyes as vibrant as the realm seen in the sky of this cruel world. As quickly as we glimpsed him, however, we were returned to that verdant surface of that mana-less world. Alone, naked, and in a cruelly unforgiving environment. And though a voice rang out to us from all directions, it was not one that belonged to that divine creature.


    He- Etan spoke to me in ways that had me see where I could be with a little more hard work. And not just me, all of us. Just like the wicked and altruistic alike had a place in the Legions, we Nebulous Monks had our own roles and positions within the Noctis Halls of Excellency. And like them, we would have to earn it. Abbot Eiriol would have to earn her throne as the Halls'' Overseer by testing herself on this cruel world. As did Antton with the Non-Commissioned Officer Course; Aldo with the Officer Candidacy Course; and Javrith, Sid, Nijal, and Sorn with the Field, Staff, Civil, and General Officer courses. And me, if I was to become the Darkroom''s Head Administrator.


    I accepted readily.


    Though I still had my elven senses and agility, I had no magic or perks to rely on. And so it was. I lived in that timeless world of death, wandering in search of water. Finding water. Then having the brown slides cause dehydration. And so it was. I died and learned the folly of my mistakes upon my rebirth. Then I was sent to a different part of that feral world to try again. With the means to find water came the means to build shelter. From that came the means to forage, build tools, hunt, cultivate, domesticate, construct; to engineer, to defend and consequently attack. Timelessly so.


    So it happened that each and every drow to have trained in Nydorden Halls lived countless lifetimes on the surface of Etan''s world in the relative blink of an eye. So it was, each of us was tested on the world of Woe and delved to witness that divine beast before we entered the fabled darkroom for our ultimate test.


    Throughout my time there, I could not help but recount the monotony of our lives in Zimysta while Etan was here, not only being tested in this realm of excellence but helping to create it. Now, we were here, being tested after being tested so that we may return and gear these things toward perfection.


    The challenge placed on us in the Darkroom was similar to those on Woe. Yet the process was entirely different. Ordered, detailed, and, in ways, invasive. The regard Amun had for his legionaries was laid bare through the knowledge he gained of them - of us. The sound of our voices, the ways we walked, the prints and marks on our hands and eyes; even our teeth. Every aspect of our bodies was recorded and subsequently addressed to render them perfect. Then the same process ensued for our minds, spirits, and souls. Then, blessed with the arms and gear of these Legions of Legends, we were thrust into the depths of hell. Three months of near constant war. Waves upon waves of powerful enemies, armed with weapons we couldn''t imagine. Our rest periods, in turn, were filled with studies of war and survival. The only food to be found was spoiled or bug-infested, and the only water accessible was pestilential. The perfect conditions to, as Amun would say, ''break them down and reconstruct them into something unbreakable.'' Not reconstructed in the sense of a building. Reconstructed in mind and spirit through three months of perfecting the crafts and three more months of mastering the art of war. And in a final, four-month phase, that mastery was tested rigorously.


    Little needed to be changed in that regard. Only unbounded freedom was to be granted during the training phases and rewards were to be set in place for various feats or locations being accomplished or discovered. Most of the changes regarded our end. Our newfound ability to create numerous clones allowed us to fill the roles of instructors, observers, and proctors to an insane degree.


    And not just in the Darkroom; my domain, but in the whole of Eotrom as well. And so, upon our emergence, we grew into more than mere instructors. We became disciplinary enforcers for each legion. Commissars.

 427 - Divinely Improper

    Eban Za''Darmondiel.


    ***


    "Welcome to Eotrom."


    The words coincided with the brightest light. A light that faded, if hardly, to reveal an infinite space centered by a dominating blue sphere. Our new home, Amun explained to the many who came with us. My eyes, however, remained on the phantasmal divine tree stretching ad infinitum throughout this space. Truly divine. And yet nowhere near its potential.


    It was a towering pillar of darkness with roots stretching through the pale rock in the sky to connect this dais with the other strange points in the distance. Placed on the far side of the dais, most of its trunk was unseen from the primary world orbiting Mani, Bithisarea. Only its winding abyssal branches, blending in with the black sky, could be seen from afar. Only because of their occasional arcane glow and their occlusion of the lights behind it could one assume the crown was hidden somewhere above. It was explained as the central point of the realm, the crown, as it formed alongside his divine lair at the time of the realm''s creation. Its branches crossed the entire realm, connecting the worlds woven within to allow for the rapid transit between them. As such, everyone in the realm could travel to Mani for the awakening ceremonies that would surely come about.


    Like the Bodhi Tree, the place one was to pour their magical radiation was around and within the roots of that majestic tree. But in this case, such an act was concentrated in the Dark Room. And yet, in that hollow world, citizens who have died continued to live. That stood as an opportunity. Yet, it was my first duty as the Technical Archmage of Amun''s organization to survey the trunk of this divine tree before addressing the crown. Though, as I would soon learn, nothing was ever simple when dealing with him, the walking contradiction.


    "First, I need to reiterate my blessings." He began."Telin''s Grace makes me the God of Mana, more beloved to the energy than anyone else. Telin''s Sight allows me to see the paths of anyone I meet, so long as I look into their eyes. Telin''s Hand grants the humans beneath my wing a higher tier of affinity cores. The implementation to look into the eyes of the many legionaries is already taken care of in the Darkroom. So, the question is, if it''s necessary for those awakening their cores to even have the Aphids?"


    "Well." I shrugged. "I''ll need more information to answer that. How do you get by without them?"


    "I used to painstakingly write tomes for each individual." He snorted, rubbing his head as if he were embarrassed. "Now, I use a perk of my divinity to create the effect of the divine aphid using my ArcaTech domain, what I call augmented reality - what everyone else perceives as simple illusions. Naturally, it holds much more capabilities than the aphids, but that doesn''t mean they aren''t needed."


    "You speak as if you know all there is to know about them."


    "Well, I did read your books." He snorted.


    "With just a touch?" I titled my head, skepticism stirring in my brain, despite all I knew.


    "Indeed." He nodded, grinning widely. "They''re similar to the elven machinations said to be used by wood elves. One condenses mana into a seemingly biological form and imbues it with an affinity of some sort, giving it a purpose, and finally casting it as a spell. The aphids effect is twofold." He continued after my nod of confirmation. "The first is that they prune the tree around the fruits as they feed on the sap. The resulting sooty mold from their residue is what documents the paths of those evolved from the tree while ingesting the aphids that burrow into the fruit mutates their spirits, enabling them to see it, simultaneously creating a library of any path the tree has ever granted. The second and most important effect is that their feeding leaves holes in the tree that allows more magical radiation to seep in and, in turn, flow out and enter the fruit, allowing the magical energies inherent to the tree to be imparted on the fruit. In layman''s terms, this means divine aphids allow for subclasses based on the owner of the tree. Not just a latent power within them or their physiology. Guild-specific subclasses, essentially. I imagine the Lux Families are the greatest example of this. I wouldn''t be surprised if their guilds possess master classes that give their members a limited control over light or the many things derived from it."


    "It seems you did read it with a mere touch." I conceded. "To that end, I imagine with your repertoire of abilities formed from a wickedly arcane and divine nature, many new classes will come into existence. Especially when one considers the legendary classes the Troupe gained without the boon of the aphids."


    "One question, though," He said. "What happens if someone drinks the sap of another tree and goes through the ritual again?"


    "They''ll switch guilds." I huffed; such an obvious answer. "Any subclass special to their first ritual is lost, along with the perks, although their other classes will remain. Other classes can open up to them, however, so it balances out. And, of course, their sprites change. Let''s put that aside, however, and speak of mana."


    "It''s as I said before," Amun began. "It''s akin to a type of ever-present, self replacing radiation with material properties that both interacts with and reacts to matter, energy, life, and conscious will; in order of weakest to strongest. It permeates all of reality at varying densities. Its effects are based on evolution, or change, yet limited in lower concentrations."


    That was indeed as he told me before. But unlike then, he pressed on. "In lands devoid of its main attractors - life and conscious will - mana remains static and grows stale. Conversely, it flows toward life and conscious will, seeking to cycle and, in a sense, renew or purify itself via a slight change. As mana flows through all living things - forming what I use as ki - it also flows through creatures preparing for life. Those creatures in gestation are, in a sense, cloned with mana, giving rise to the spiritual body. Excess mana is then concentrated within that spirit to form the mana well. Yet the ambient mana used to do this is replaced, as all mana is. Thus, when the creature is born and later dies, there will be a net gain of mana in the realm should the mana well dissipate into the environment. Given this, region mana density rises logarithmically with population. The caveat, however, is the Trees of Life. Being living entities, mana cycles through them as well. And being so fucking gargantuan in scale, the aforementioned change made to the mana cycling through the tree gives specific properties, aspects, or even affinities to the mana of each realm, dependent on the tree in question."


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    "Indeed. Naturally, mana is the very nature of Youtera, our Tree of life," I said, palming my chest. "However, Betrarth would be a greater example. The mana is reported to primal in nature. As a result, some of those settlers corrupted by the mana over the generations are said to have bestial traits. The famous Beast-kin. Consequently, the Marulean Tree of Life held natural properties, be they elements or natural phenomenon. Though, so too has the Marulean Tree of Life been dead and had been dead long before even the tomes I gave you were first written. Although it does imply it died shortly after the Rending."


    Amun seemed to pay that little mind, instead saying, "Maru''s population is fairly low, although I don''t know the number. The density was on the precipice of water when I left, though the approaching beam may change that. That aside, there are other variables to consider than the aphids and divine trees - lair stones. As the God of Mana, I have dominion over them. Naturally, there''s a unique one for each of my domains. The stone you used to build the new Arcanis Praesyris was imbued with the essence of the World Weaver, dubbed a World Core. Similarly, those used by your brother to create a gravitationally bound region of distorted space and time are called Stellar Cores, made with the abilities I gave him. And then, for the more¡­ revolutionary domains, there are more. For Engineering, the ArcaTech AI Core powers any machines or devices in its territory with an infinite energy source derived from the ambient mana. Yet the ones attuned to the Domain of Mana are truly special." He grinned in that madly wicked way of his.


    "Arcane Agate is essentially a lair stone with its own mana well, granting it arcana. As such, it forms an Extreme Mana Zone regardless of the structure it creates, and it holds complete dominion over it. Naturally, this was what turned Zimysta Falls into Cononthoth''s lair. However, being a lair stone, it can take many forms, and there''s a paragon version as well. The Sage Stone." He grinned wider. "They essentially have the intellect of a humanoid. Like its lesser version, it holds dominion over the zones it forms, though it makes them much more orderly. Thus, I call them Sentient Arcane Invasive Neutral Territories, or Saints. Dungeons become Elder Dungeons that adopt the temperament and traits of the life it siphoned to grow; then use mana, materials, and life energy from those felled or dwelling inside to make its denizens, dwellers, or traps hold such traits. Monster Lairs became Monster Citadels. In this, the stone greatly enhances the host''s intelligence and capabilities, plus gives it the means to alter its lair and influence the development of its cohabitants, including its young. As for towers, they create Sentient Spires, capable of conversing, educating, and making fabulous things within their walls, including things of magical natures attuned to its owner.


    "On the contrary, I have some influence over divine trees as well." Amun continued. "However, there''s little to be learned about it for now, as I only have access to one. Dubbed the Noctis Arbor, it was evolved in the sense that it permeates all Eotrom to link these worlds together and breach them into the Material Plane. Though it is deeply rooted and has spawned more lair stones, it has yet to produce any seeds. To that end, I''m wondering if the aphids have any impact on the seeds formed from this one - the seeds that would become the future subguild headquarters?"


    "Of course!" I huffed. "Just like the aphids increase the energy flowing into the fruits to grant subclasses tied to the guild master, so too, does the process happen with divine seeds. As such, the seeds grown by the subguilds won''t just become similar trees to yours, they will meld that divinity with the powers of those who gestated them."


    "Excellent! I''m ready to get started when you are." He rocked back, grinning widely like a child until he caught my gaze and read my apprehension like a tome. "The chances of something wild happening when the aphids are created is astronomically high, yes." He nodded. "As such, I intend to act preemptively by controlling the evolution. However, you still don''t have the full equation, Eban."


    Now it was my turn to read him - an impossible task, so I only shrugged.


    "In nature," Amun began, "many types of ants have a mutualistic relationship with aphids. As the aphids feed on sap, they secrete honeydew as waste, which is milked by the ants as food. In securing the free food, the ants wind up protecting the aphids. But that''s not the end of it. This relationship changes the aphids to a certain extent. They produce fewer quantities of honeydew more frequently, and the honeydew has higher concentrations of amino acids as well - the building blocks of proteins."


    Pausing, he released an illusory array of strange symbols. Diagrams made of letters- elements, strung together like a weird fungus or something. Molecules, I soon realized, after a wave of mana came over me.


    "My line of thinking is this," he said. "Being arcane creatures, the ants I''ll create along with the aphids won''t need to rely on the honeydew for sustenance, nor will the aphids need protection. As such, the ants can process the honeydew into something else and perhaps secrete it onto the fruit. Or in this case, the seeds."


    "That''s disgusting! Let''s do it!" I morbidly grinned, excited by the twist. "What''s the effect, though?"


    "For the fruits, it''ll be what gives the founding member''s subordinates their inherited powers. For the seeds, I''ll go with Iris'' suggestion." Amun smirked. "General classes for the citizenry. Something that''ll give perks for the chefs or farmers or merchants or whatever. Something to make the ordinary citizens and workers extraordinary, so they don''t get swept behind by the coming tide."


    My agreement came with an eruption of laughter. And when I calmed, he told me I would be officially titled the Legions'' Technical Archmage when I completed my training. In turn, I was asked what personal goals I had for our return to the surface.


    "I have a few contacts in Knighilia I''d like to see. I''ve only corresponded to them through scrying means, so that should be interesting." I said, shrugging. "Other than that, I simply want no more duties as a Heart Keeper."


    "We have Carbury for that." He snorted. "My first undying shadow. A unicorn."


    "Oh, I bet the tree faeries hate you." I snickered. To which he snickered back, yet carelessly shrugged.


    "That said, I do have the mind to add a few more members to the Troupe. It''d be nice to have someone in each class. Perhaps I can find a witch in Chaulort, but there''s no rush. But I do plan to make claim a paladin next year, and a dedicated warlock at some point, but the latter may take some time. Before that, though," he sighed heavily. "We''ll be building your most-prestigious university. And by ''before that,'' I mean right now. Let''s go."