Becoming the Godking

A Kingdom Building LitRPG Adventure

Book 3 in the Revenant’s Revenge series

by Andrew Karevik

Revenant’s Revenge (Book 3)

Copyright © 2024 LitRPG Freaks

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

Chapter 1

Hector and Velking, two men who couldn’t be further apart, were fused within the same spirit. I was the result of that blend, an unholy combination of a spirit half-dead and an undead beast half-alive. My soul was dispersed when I was first slain but, apparently, one doesn’t need it as badly as they would say. Yet somehow, due to tenacity, stupidity and luck, I gained a portion of my soul back and in the process, became a candidate for godhood.

I was no god, that was for certain. I was a King, a revenant who sat upon the Bleak Throne within the Silent Pyramid. My powers were like that of a lesser deity, I suppose, and I did have a cult that worshipped me, but I lacked the ego. The sense of self-grandiosity that required one to think themselves worthy of ruling and reigning. I merely wanted to survive, to live like any creature. Circumstances alone were pushing me to reach new heights of power.

If it were up to me, I’d simply sit within my pyramid and bide my time, waiting for the day I could return to the human lands to torture Eris Lanyer – the monster responsible for my creation. But there were great powers and plots in place, machinations of gods and man alike that made the world far too deadly to simply rest in. There was no rest for a man like me, both living and dead.

So instead I turned my attentions to grabbing handfuls of power of my own, first through the generation of Discordance and then second through the creation of my own state. The cursed lands of Lepidonia were among the few places our kind, the undead, could roam freely, and so great barons of undeath lived in tenuous accord – until I disrupted everything by capturing the Banshee of the Land.

The accursed Banshee had managed the affairs of everyone within Lepidonia, creating Banners that she distributed based on her whims. During the Night’s Black Sun, a celestial event that took place every few years, she would redistribute the holdings and titles – a move that kept everyone moving against each other and never against her. Until I came along, that is.

As a revenant, I was gifted with many stealth and magical skills. I used them to quickly undercut her authority and before she knew it, the Banshee was no longer queen of the lands. She was merely a host spirit meant to power the great magic of the Pyramid I owned.

Chaos came quickly to the land after the Banshee was defeated. The Banners were thrown off by all oppressed undead and revolutions began. Vast swathes of uncontrollable zombies and skeletons roamed through the countryside, creating wild cults that either worshipped or fought the startling surge of corpses. Lepidonia was transformed as werewolves and vampires resumed their ancient struggles and open combat once again took hold of the once peaceful land.

There were no borders, no agreements and no friends here. Every faction was fighting for their own destiny and the chaos was great. I had hoped that I would be able to secure alliances but the Banshee’s grip had been too tight. The cursed land was a great coil she had pressed firmly into a box – one that I opened with glee. Now the coil was springing back as hard as it could. There was no stopping nature.

There was no putting it back in the box either. With war breaking out, humanity fled, reducing the number of resources for us to fight over. Everyone wanted Discordance, everyone wanted land and there was never enough for any of them.

I had created this great melee with my actions. I knew it would be hairy for quite some time and so I pulled all of my forces back. I closed the pyramid walls and allowed my cult to flourish and prepare. The great structure sustained many assaults but those who got in were trapped in the lower floors, where my skeletal constructs waited.

I bid my time, grew stronger and reconstructed my body that had been destroyed previously. I regained the Discordance I had lost and rebuilt myself to the exact specifications to what I had been before. My forces were moved from The Veiled Kingdom to the Bleak Pyramid and readied for their party in the upcoming battles.

There were no allies to be had in the upcoming engagements. Those whom I thought I could count on turned on me in the last moment – only for their own kingdoms to crumble beneath their own feet. With the hounds turning on their masters, I moved swiftly, taking out the few targets who had survived. All save for Peter, the deadspeaker, were dead by the first Night’s Black Sun of the new era. He received a free pass for reasons I fail to explain.

When the time was right, I would send forth my vast armies of undead to seize the land but for now I needed to wait. There were still many factions in play and their interest in my territory was waning. The Pyramid was my only mark in the world, resting where the Bleak Manor had once been sitting. My territory encompassed nothing except for the half-mile black pyramid that pulsed with red and green bands of energy at all times. I could expand the size if I wished, but such a thing would require discordance to be infused and as always, I was short on it.

Raising armies and rebuilding the body took a great deal of my energy, and thus I found myself in need of large chunks of power – to improve the defenses and abilities of the Pyramid as well as expand my abilities. The discordance market outside, in the Cursed Lands, was wild and chaotic. It was impossible to gain discordance without fighting some armies for it and even then, the amounts were low. Even though I had been the reason for all of this fighting, there was no discordance transferred to me as a result of it.

And so, cursed in death as in life, I was forced to begin taking on work to gain an edge. This was fine, for my cult was preparing their first graduating class of sorcerers and necromancers, and it would be a few more years before they were ready for war. I dare not step foot outside without the aid of high level mortal spellcasters and so I needed something to abate the Hunger and Miasmata that grows when one is idle in death.

My standing with the Smiting Star, the organization of undead assassins made up of revenants like myself, was tenuous but the god Orphio had not kicked me from the organization just yet. On the contrary, he spread the word through the dark channels that I was the man to see about settling grudges. I was no longer invited to access the Smiting Star’s quest board area but my clients would come to me instead.

Few were able to meet the criteria that Anna the Fallen Star had implemented for gaining access to me. I was more than a king to the regular people, I was a god incarnate, a being that had defeated death and promised great power to all who served. Petitioners were commonplace now and Anna had learned to control the cult’s influence by tightly controlling who had access to me.

Quests were often given out to those who wished to speak before me. Jobs that would further our interests, whatever they may be. Anna had taken full advantage of her position as my right hand and had become the High Priestess of the Veil, laying down here paladin sword to serve in a fully administrative capacity. She worked wonders with her trade deals and plots, so I gave the woman free rein to do as she pleased. Anyone who stood before me had earned the right by fire. This I could be certain.

“You are ancient,” I said as the pale man entered my chambers. I was sitting upon my great throne made of bones and iron, a mound of skulls beneath me. I sat shrouded in darkness, high above the rest of the room. Only two basins of fire sat at the base of the steps leading up to my seat, dimly illuminating the world. “But living.”

The man was not human. He was a tall fellow, perhaps seven foot but slender, with a grey face that looked withered as rotted fruit. He wore a black flowing cloak and a burgundy red vest, checkers running down both sides of the vest. Upon his side were two longswords, though it was clear they were ceremonial. My keen eyes (with Hix back in them) easily spotted the rust sealing one sword shut. This man was no fighter.

“I am a Witch Elf,” he said slowly, his long face pushing the words out one at a time. His flowing white hair covered one part of his eyes. “A rare breed that has come from a long way to seek out your aid. I have done the three tasks your priestess has given me. The gate fee has been paid. Now, I must know, are you the one I can count on to slay my greatest foe?”

There was a great sense of revenge upon his heart. He had sworn many vows to gods and powers he couldn’t comprehend, just for the sake of standing here today. It seemed that being deprived of being able to see me had made his resolve even stronger. I could taste his vengeance. The discordance gained from this task, I knew, would be monumental. Better yet, it would give me something to do. I could use an excuse to stretch this new frame out and test its limits.

“Speak the name and the crime,” I said. “Spare no detail.”

“He is the Bishop Favis, of Silversalt Cliffs,” the elf said. “And his crimes are longer than the steps it takes to reach your throne, sire. He has killed, stolen and plundered from all around him.”

“A bishop?” I asked. “Why haven’t your gods dealt with him?”

The witch elf looked at me and sighed. “The man is not a follower of the gods. He follows an Institution, a Tradition. His fealty comes not from principles of kindly deities but words and traditions established by witch elves thousands of years old. The Living Faith, they call it, or the Estas, is the guiding principle of the witch elf people. All follow the Estalonian Priests for guidance. Tradition and Order guide them and their faith in such a thing has given rise to the Estas Keepers.”

“I have heard of such peoples before,” I commented. “They say they have a grand citadel that reaches the heavens themselves, resting in the center of the continent.”

“Such exaggerations are common for the Estalonians,” the client replied. “The citadel only appears to touch the heavens. It is just as close to hell as the rest of us.”

Chapter 2

Fellik of the Willow had once been a proud captain, serving in the Estas Keepers as a guard. His job had been primarily ceremonial, the work focused on pageantry and organization in the peaceful lands of the Silver Salt Cliffs.

Witch Elves were immortal. They had no need for the afterlife to govern their affairs. When an elf was slain, they simply revived an hour later, no worse for wear. If a body was destroyed, they would reincarnate an hour later. Such an existence made them particularly uninterested in the religions of the world. But they still had faith.

This faith unified the Silver Salt people, centered around the Estas Keeper traditions. Then, one cruel morning, the Bishop Favis stole the light from the Great Lighthouse that sat on the edge of the cliffs before the city. Without the light to shine upon the Witch Elves, their ability to reincarnate grew twisted and their rebirths violent. What spawned when a witch elf was slain without the light was a feral monstrosity, undead and without thought.

Favis cut off the city from the rest of the Estas Keepers and began to set up a great dictatorship in his name, demanding statues of himself built. Those who failed to obey the commands were slain and turned into monsters.

With a form of death now existing, the Witch Elf population of the Silver Salt City fell apart.  Traditions were abandoned and magics began to fail or, worse, became perverted. Now, the city was mostly empty, a shell of its former glory. What had once been the birthplace of spiritual arts and scientific progress was now dying.

Yet Favis lived still, sitting high atop a throne not unlike my own. He controlled the Witch Light and thus all of his kin’s fate was in his hand. Including Fellik of the Willow.

The captain had watched these horrors unfold but held back, knowing it was best to strike when the enemy wasn’t looking. He could do nothing by his lonesome, other than perform his duties incompetently. With death now existing, there was a singular motivation for everyone to behave. He had felt fears most other races had to deal with early on in their maturation for the first time and chose cowardice.

Such a pain rested on the elf’s heart, even now. As he told me this terrible tale, I listened to the beating of his heart and knew he would give me great power if I were to take this job. “Tell me,” I asked once he concluded sharing his story. “Do the Estas Keepers know that their man has gone rogue? Why do they not intervene?”

“That I wish I knew the answer to,” Fellik replied. “But the truth is they have been silent for hundreds of years. This would be an acceptable amount of time for an elf, if not for the fact that the Bishop caused change to happen so quickly.”

“So you decided to come to me to solve the problem,” I said, folding my hands together. I had noticed I was a bit more fidgety since I had come to inherit this new body. Perhaps it was the new corpse or maybe it was Hector’s spirit causing it.

“Will you slay him?” he asked.

“How can I slay a man who cannot die?” I replied.

At that, Fellik grimaced. He produced a small dagger from within his vest. “This blade, the Felmark Dagger, will allow you to cut out his heart and keep it alive. As long as his heart beats, he will be unable to regenerate a body. It is a fate worse than death in many ways, for he will be aware during it. Perhaps in time he will be forgiven but only after several lifetimes have passed.”

An interesting request. “Such a job does not come cheap,” I said as I examined the weapon. It was a silver thing with wicked edges and a needle-shaped point at the end. Certainly not something to use in battle.

“I did not expect it to,” Fellik said. “And I came prepared. Any man could offer you wealth or power, troops or land. But that is something mortals fuss over. You are an undead king, your interests are greater. This I know.” He reached down to the small book hanging from his side. “This is the Vorpal Tome. It contains a collection of three spells that my family has stewarded over for generations. Thousands of years of effort have gone into these three. I will not tell you what they do or what their power is. You know that the very act of offering this is sacrilege. The power within is forbidden.”

“Forbidden power seems to be quite inviting,” I replied, looking at the small book. Spells were indeed worth getting up for. A brief part of me considered just killing the witch elf and taking the book. But that was just Hix, attempting to tempt me to darker deeds. The demon had struggled to hold onto the tiniest fraction of my soul in death and was still trying to have his consciousness resurface within my own. I could mostly feel his presence at a subconscious level. I took to blaming the more base and inane desires of this undead frame on him. “But surely you must be offering more than three.”

“Three spells are more than enough. A Witch Elf’s magic is complete and efficient. Far beyond mere arcane abilities. The Vorpal Tome will reward you greatly. This I can promise,” Fellik said as he put the book back on his satchel. “Will you take the job?”

“I shall,” I said. “The Bishop will die. Of that you can be sure.”

“Be careful in my country,” he said as he threw a silver medallion for me. The token burned brightly as I caught it, sealing me to the contract. “The land is twisted and the elves there are beyond reason. Their power is great and their hatred greater still.”

“Feel free to stay within my pyramid while you wait,” I replied as I climbed out of my chair and extended my claws. There it was, another human expression, stretching.

There were no muscles in my body that relied upon tension or control in order to function. Everything was powered by necromantic magic, my spirit intertwined with the corpse of a ghoul-wight. I moved independent of the laws of physics and thus there was no biological need or benefit to stretching. But my body did so anyway.

The dullness of undeath had changed as well. There was a shine around the edges of the world now, a bit of color that seemed to permeate the darkness around me. A tiny grain of sand, a little orange fleck, sat within the Tempus Hourglass, hidden on my person. Within it, my essence, my soul was resting, safe from detection by the rest of the world. The god Epheris had given it to me to ensure I would be able to complete my purpose.

And that purpose? Hell if I know. I was being used as a pawn in some great game between the Terrestrial Gods and the Celestials, a game I didn’t care to know the rules to. My instincts and origin were pointing me, even now, towards avenues and alleys that could bring up potential leads to learning more about my origin, but I balked at the idea. I had my own fledgling power structure to take care of, I couldn’t go off chasing dragons just yet.

“I will take advantage of your hospitality,” the witch elf said, pulling me back to the conversation at hand. “I thank you.”

“Tell me, Fellik,” I asked before dismissing him. “Do you expect me to return?”

“I do not,” he confessed. “But it is my hope you take the Bishop down with you.”

Chapter 3

The outside world was almost too bright to handle, despite the fact that it was night-time in the Cursed Country. Being inside of my pyramid for the last few years had gotten me accustomed to the gentle radiating negative energies of the banshee spirit, feeding me with sustenance and keeping me calm. Now that I was back in the real world, without the hearth of the banshee spirit to feed my power levels at all time, I was feeling many deleterious effects of the undead state.

One particular madness was the sensation of needing to move. The urge to walk at all times and yet when I walked, pacing mindlessly, I could feel the urge to sit. An exhaustion begging me to finally sit. Sitting and ceasing my walks would only make the agitation grow worse. The dull ache to move bothered me at all moments and no amount of shaking or screaming would make it go away. Only focus on the task at hand, at getting revenge, could ease me from my disturbed state. I had no greater control over the undead beast within than before – the Pyramid had just given me an unnatural degree of comfort, making it easier for me to deal with such an affliction.

I found my mood greatly darkened as I scuttered across the cliffsides. High cliffs overlooked an empty lake, the water long drained out by elven efforts. Standing on the grass meant I was still in Lepidonia. It wouldn’t be until I touched stone, climbing over the edge of the cliffs, that I would be entering new territory.

Normally I could not traverse foreign lands due to a pact I had made with humanity but the coin in my possession allowed me to break this rule. As long as I was here on business, I was free to move about. No oaths would bind me.

I stopped at the top of the cliffside and peered over the edge, looking at the city below. Silver Salt sat at the edge of the empty lake, its marvelous spires towering high in the air. The craftsmanship of such buildings was breathtaking, even from this distance. I could feel a human sense of awe rise up within me as Hector gazed at the citadels.

The witch elves had built their city out of black iron, the spires and towers of each cathedral adorned with stained glass portraits of different founding powers. Despite the fact that it was night, there were no lights on within the city, and my eyes could detect no trace of movement. The people within were dead or worse: transformed.

The iron architecture was impressive and brutal, mixing practicality with space efficiency. Everything was edged, with long spade spikes being a favorite of the design. Black bars snaked across walls and windows, some growing like vines out of building sides. Doors were heavy and barred, some gates covered in the iron vines so thick that it looked as if they were being strangled by metal.

On the edge of the city was a great billowing yellow smog. It was moving across the empty lake, slowly drifting. Pale, false light emanated from the yellow smoke, giving the entire city of salt a hazy look.

“Aha!” a voice said beside me, sending me into a defensive posture instantly.

I flipped in the air and slashed at an old man who had waddled up beside me as I was scouting out the city. He blocked my claws with his staff; the white oaken thing was hard as metal and caused my weapons to bounce off effortlessly.

“Easy, easy, I come in peace!” the man said, falling back. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you! And besides, if I was able to catch you off-guard, it means I could have vaporized you easily!”

The man was wearing long red robes, filled to the brim with pockets of all kinds. Most of the pockets had zippers on them, and puffed out, containing potions or other curiosities. He was clearly a wizard, if not for his clothes certainly for the long grey beard. He looked quite the stereotype of the typical tower caster, complete with the hunch from long hours reading books with bad posture.

“Peace?” I snarled. “You dare sneak up on me?”

“Calm yourself, friend!” the wizard said. “Allow me to introduce myself! I am Orlin, master of the arts arcane and I have been waiting for you.”

“Waiting?” I asked, lowering my claws. Wizards were many things, meddlers and irritating in large groups but if they had a portent of the future, it was best to listen. They rarely made these things up for attention.

“Indeed! The old crystal ball told me that I’d meet the ticket to the city here. And voila, I find you, a hideous, stinking ghoul of a man, skulking about. Now, I’m no theist but I’d say that was divine providence, if not for the fact that sheer arcane power led me here,” Orlin proudly explained. He was elderly but not shaky, a man of sturdy stock and noble breeding for certain.

I stared at him blankly for a moment. “You’re no theist? Are you a madman?”

“Nonsense, I’m a rationalist. There are no gods, it’s all just a big ruse, set up by the demons and devils to run us around for a long time, until we’re exhausted,” Orlin casually explained. He took out a spy glass and unfurled it; the thing was as long as his beard.

“I have spoken to gods and I can assure you, they are no demons,” I said. “They are more real than you and I.”

“No, you have met extradimensional entities that exist beyond our capacity, aliens and such,” Orlin replied, peering through the glass. He hummed for a moment. “Was that cloud here before we arrived?”

“Seems to be a storm event of some kind.”

“No storm produces light like that,” Orlin mused.

Back to the conversation at hand. This man had captured my interest. “So you’re saying that you think all gods are just…what? Powerful beings?”

“Indeed. Posers who claim to have true abilities that they don’t,” Orlin said. “They are nothing more than squabbling mortals with super powers.”

“You seem confident in this,” I said.

“Oh yes, I have my theories, my tests and results,” Orlin said. “I know the whole game. It’s a con, from the beginning to the end. They feed on our sorrow and misery, make us fight for their amusement. But not I! I will bend my knee to no one, be they god or king.”

I chuckled at that and thrust a claw to the side of his temple before he could even react. The man froze as my blade stuck against his head. “Bow to me, or I will slay you.”

Orlin laughed and slammed his head against the spike, forcing me to pull it back, out of sheer surprise.

“Oh you think no one’s tried that on old Orlin before?” he cackled as he watched me take a few steps back. “Kill me if you like, I’ve more than a few ways to retain my intelligence after death.”

This wizard intrigued me for many reasons. For one, he seemed to be fully confident in himself, there was no fear in his voice or unsteadiness in his hands. The old wizard seemed perfectly content to die here. But I was too curious to end him now.

“Why did you come here, to meet with me?” I asked. “What do you want in the city?”

“I’m searching for something,” Orlin said. “A crown, said to have been worn by a devil a long time ago. Such a creature was bound by witch elves to fashion iron any which way. Such an artifact would be precisely what I need to complete my collection.”

“What power do you gain by assembling a collection of crowns?” I asked.

“The greatest power of all: clearing a favor owed to an old friend,” Orlin replied. “An alchemist who gave me some aid in a time of great need came with a request. The Toad Demon’s Crown is a one of a kind artifact. What it does is inconsequential to him, he’s obsessed with the status of owning it. I’ve hemmed and hawed as long as I could. I must acquire the damn thing and that is why I am here.”

“Do you know the fate of the city?” I asked.

“They say a man stole the great light from the lighthouse that gave the witch elves the power to return from the dead,” he explained, pointing to the decrepit building in the distance. I wouldn’t have guessed it from the shape of the rubble, but that had once been home to the Witch Light. “Now they reincarnate endlessly into wild monsters and cruel beings.”

“Can you handle yourself?”

“I assume that I will die horribly in the first encounter, and that’s fine by me. I just want to get this over with,” Orlin said. “Of course, if I had a handsome revenant to run interference for me, my arcane powers would easily thwart that of a lesser god.”

“Who do you align with?” I asked, still trying to understand this man. It was rare to meet a man of magic who didn’t acknowledge the gods in the most token of ways. “What forces do you serve?”

“I am an Ordered Individual, Neutral in all other ways,” Orlin quickly replied, puffing out his chest proudly to me. “I pride myself on my word and my bond, for there is nothing more meaningful than an oath. It is the only thing that I believe in.”

“What do you think evil to be?” I asked.

“Evil is a word used to describe behavior others don’t like but would engage in just fine if it suited them,” Orlin callously replied. “Good is usually just expedience or forced politeness.”

I laughed at that. “I think we’re going to get along, Orlin. I will make no false pretenses here, I am seeking out the Bishop Favis, the elf who stole the light. If you come with me, you are bound to serve me in that capacity until the deed is done.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the deal, I’ve got the side quest, you’re on the big adventure,” Orlin scoffed. “I know my lane, revenant. I’m just here to get a crown, whatever you need to do, so be it. I’m willing to cast an Oath spell to bind us together, so you won’t fear me getting excited with the fireballs when you’re in melee.”

“Your word is enough,” I said. “I will ask nothing else of you.”

I did not want an oath binding us in case it would become expedient to kill him. The man had quite the story well-rehearsed. Did this mean he could be trusted? Not in the least. But I was no indiscriminate killer, I had no bones with the man and so I could see where this led. Who knows? He might be the key to ending this engagement early, then I could collect the spells, the discord shards and go home. But then again…a city this big, there was probably an awful lot of energy to be earned. It might behoove me to spend some time exploring – and besides, there was a crown to find. Hector seemed to like the idea of finding it. Perhaps Velking did too.

It was strange but I looked at Orlin with human eyes. He was more than just a means to an end. He could be a friend, if I treated him well. With respect.

“Fuck that!” a voice finally said, breaking free through my subconscious. It was the demon Hix, his mind now able to speak in full sentences. “Friends? Are you serious? Get control of yourself, Velking. You are not Hector. You are not a human. Do not pursue after such things as if you were.”

“Welcome back,” I unceremoniously replied within my mind. “Though I have sensed you here for a while.”

“Reconstruction was difficult. Please don’t die again,” Hixim grumbled. “I will disperse for good if you get popped a second time. Well, I mean I’ll be back in a few thousand years but you won’t be around. Or if you are, you’ll probably have a new wisecracking sidekick.”

“Is that how you see yourself?” I asked. “For I see you as a sniveling devil who irritates me constantly. I will not have you butting into my conversations and thoughts to tell me who I may or may not be friends with.”

“I’m just warning you that you’re playing around the good area. Angels are attracted to good actions. Redemption is always around the other corner, we have to keep moving to escape it,” he said.

“You sound rather fatalistic.”

“I have seen many a tempter fail because he didn’t secure the asset. He did everything right, got the guy to go down the evil path but never accounted for redemption,” Hix said. “And bam! Right before the guy dies, he repents. All that evil credit gone in an instant.”

“Is it truly so easy to lose all of your work?”

“In the time it takes an honest man to take money, ten criminals will confess their sins,” Hixim grumbled. “Evil is the quick and easy route but good is patient and longsuffering and all that. If it can snipe all our hard work, it will. Good loves sloppy seconds for some reason.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied. “And you keep silent.”

Chapter 4

Orlin was a patient man and knew how to keep his silence. His magic came from the tip of his staff at all times and never did it make a sound. Nary did I see a flash of light or burst of energy from his casting, only slight shifts in the world and mystic changes perceivable only on different layers.

“What manner of magician are you?” I inquired as we walked the long shore on the empty lake. The city was only half a mile away now and seemed to loom even more ominously. The yellow cloud moving across the sky gave an eerie, forlorn lighting to the entire realm. It looked as if we were in an eternal twilight of amber.

“Illusionist, friend,” Orlin said. “Though I am far less prone to being a trickster than others. I prefer illusion magic for it grants me the power to manipulate the world to my own liking as much as to others. Spawn music from nothing, create playful images at home to recreate battles and other interesting moments…it is truly the utility magician’s best friend.”

“You do not walk with the confidence of a utility magician,” I replied.

“When one has mastered all aspects of images and senses, they fear very little they can see,” he answered, stopping in his tracks. “Ahead.”

I saw it too. A great gate was in front of the western side of the city. Long rows of black iron bars towered high towards the sky, cutting off any from entering. Welded to the center of the gate was a long, pale creature, humanoid though barely. He had long fangs and pointed ears, pale as the moonlight though not undernourished.

A Warped Elf. It had somehow shoved itself in between the bars and was stuck. The creature did not thrash or twist, however. It merely reclined, content to be stuck. Its body had practically fused to the bars but it could probably squeeze out if agitated.

“Use your magics then, make me invisible to its senses,” I said, dropping into a stealth posture. It felt good to be scuttering once more, moving across the ground on hands and feet, using my claws to easily traverse mass stretches of land without being a target.

“Done and done, friend,” Orlin said, waving his staff over me. I felt no different. But I paid no mind to this, for I wasn’t afraid of the Warped creature. It stood in between us and the way in, sneaking past would deprive me of a valuable opportunity to learn how these monsters functioned.

I approached the beast, taking note that it was nearly twice my size. Almost twelve feet tall, the warped elf remained inert as I scuttered close. I could hear its heartbeat as it pounded away with a strange rhythm. Gone. Light. Gone. Gone. Light. Gone. I could hear those words whispered by a calm voice. It was a spirit of the Witch Elf. Somehow I could sense its mind despite the occupation of the creature’s body.

There were two spirits present. An immortal witch elf and a mortal monster, twisted and undead. Interesting. But inconsequential to my plans.

I grabbed onto the metal gate and began to ascend, my motions soundless and without vibration even. The master wizard was showing his skill, for I was inches away from the monster, clambering up the metal gate without being detected.

Once I was at a high vantage point, I gazed down at the mass of white flesh, mixed with metal. My eyes could not see any weak points, so I defaulted to where the heart was beating. I leapt and stabbed both my claws into the warped elf’s torso, the magical energies cutting through the flesh with ease.

The elf opened his eyes and shrieked most hideously, his voice like that of a dragon’s call. One lanky arm came up and seized me as he stood. The gate was affixed to his body! I realized this too late as he hefted his entire self up, standing tall as the gate hung from both sides of his ribcage. He had fused with the gate and was apparently strong enough to keep it on his body as he swung me into the ground like a club.

My claws were quick to catch the earth as I was thrown into the dirt and I began to tunnel downwards, my burrowing speed fast enough to pry me from the monster’s grip. I tunneled in a circle and guessed where he would be, then burst forth to find…his back turned.

The great warped elf stood mindlessly. His long white hair flowed in the wind as he stared forward towards Orlin. No doubt the master mage was imperceptible to the enemy, hence why he was staring without purpose.

The gate was gone now. We could progress into the city and bypass this creature entirely. Orlin’s magic had turned me invisible once more and I was able to wave to him.

“No need to wave, the wind will catch our whispers,” Orlin said to me. “That was a surprise.”

“We could bypass the creature now,” I said. “But I would learn nothing and gain no power. Can you expose this thing’s weaknesses to my vision?”

“In theory, but that would require me to break my invisibility,” he said. “I’m an expert illusionist but you can’t hide and cast at the same time.”

“Then I will distract the creature once more,” I replied, picking up a rock and throwing it at the beast’s head.

As soon as the stone struck the creature, it spun around and began charging towards me. He was insanely fast, much faster than I had anticipated. He came barreling forward, gates wobbling and creaking from his flesh as he thrashed to the left, bringing the entire iron wall towards me.

“Shit!” I yelled, leaping high over the wall as it swung beneath me, the force easily enough to rip a corpse to pieces. As I landed, the creature spun around the other way, bringing the opposite side of the gate into me. I didn’t have the time to react, this creature was huge and fast, its unwieldy weapon supported by…spirit magic?

I sailed through the air, struck from the iron gate right after landing. Before I could smash into the cobblestone ground ahead, a gust of wind kicked up beneath me, stopping my fall and reorienting me on the ground.

“This is why you make friends with the wizard,” I told Hix as I readied for the monster’s charge. Ahead, I could see the tall warped elf staggering towards me, a bright green outline on the side of his lower ribcage. There was a keyhole sticking out, a golden lock that seemed to radiate with a spirit energy. Something was powering the monster.

I dashed forward, not demurred from the fact that it had bested me twice already. The third time was the charm.

The beast rushed to meet me head on, slashing a long claw at me, but I slid beneath it, stabbing my blades upwards into the green glowing area. Black blood sprayed out instantly and the warped elf let out a hideous shriek.

I rolled away just in time to avoid the huge gate coming down onto the ground. The monster was shriveling up, his body and flesh retracting into that of a normal seven foot tall witch elf. The gates crashed to opposite sides and he lay in the middle, his body now a normal man wearing what seemed to be guard clothes.

“Finally,” a voice ethereal and weak said. A spirit appeared above the corpse of the witch elf, it was an identical version of the man’s body, though it was healthier-looking. “Thanks for the help.”

“Don’t mention it,” I said, approaching the spirit. “You were trapped within?”

“Our bodies are perverted with the Light stolen,” he said. “But our spirits are very much so still alive. I’ve a favor to ask of you, revenant. Your business in this strange city is your own, but if you could ferry my soul to the Ettercap Merchant in the Chapel of Heights, I would be grateful.”

“I am no messenger,” I said.

“If you intend to survive this city, you would do well to aid its inhabitants,” Orlin said as he walked beside me. He too could see the spirit. “What’s in it for us?”

“Ah yes, barter,” the spirit sighed. “A weapon. One that would benefit us both, in a way. It possesses great power and the Ettercap Merchant knows the secret to improving it. Retrieve a few of my allies and I will convince the strange monster to empower it for you. A soul for an improvement. Is that good enough for you?”

“I already have weapons,” I said, pointing to my claws. “Such an arrangement is not in my interest.”

“Hold it now,” Orlin said. “This is a Witch Elf weapon. We’re talking an ancient blade that was created by the most expert of craftsmen. This is not a meager trade. This is access to true power, my friend.”

“And what would you consider true power?”

“Anything outside of yourself that wields strength,” Orlin said. “For the body can be maimed and destroyed, but artifacts? They endure. If it lasted this long, it will most certainly survive the next millennia as well. Can you say the same about your body?”

The wizard had a point. “How old are you, Orlin?” I asked.

“Old enough to know better, what do you say we take the deal?” he asked. “Besides, this merchant might be our ticket to finding the crown without having to scramble across the city.”

That was another good point. I appreciated that Orlin was informing me and not telling me what to do. He knew his place, it seemed.

“Very well,” I said. “Spirit, we shall aid you. In exchange for the weapon.”

“To find the blade, you must simply whisper this passphrase to the Lionsmouth Statue in the Grey Wolf District… ‘Verdant Skies Are Endless.’ This will open up the secret room where you can find the Heartseeker Blade.”

Chapter 5

Warped Elf Slain! 1,000 Discordance Gained appeared in my vision as the spirit of the witch elf compressed itself into a small orb, floating beside me as I walked through the great Silver Salt City.

Most of the buildings were ruins at this point. Fallen chunks of iron and stone were everywhere, the taller citadels having fallen over during the chaos. Navigating the city was rather easy, for the roads were wide and there were no monsters about. Everything was silent and still.

The new infusion of power was delightful to see. It had been a while since I had been able to fuel discordance directly into my body, empowering it more. Most of my discordance went towards managing the Pyramid and maintaining it. I had a few Black Sails Monuments to gather just enough discord shards to meet our monthly demand. Even then any excess discordance had to be distributed to the lower levels of our armies in order to strengthen them.

But now I had a fresh boost of energy. As we navigated towards the chapel, I checked the configuration of the Silvershade, to learn what new options had opened to me. If I was going to survive this place, I would probably do well to improve my offensive and defensive capabilities directly, though finding some upgrades to my vision for weak spots would be good… Choices, choices…

Bladefire Abilities

Strikes:

These abilities disperse your Unholy Aura when you activate them. Your Aura recovers after thirty seconds.

Cost: 250 Discordance Each

Burning Claw: Ignites enemies on magical fire when struck.

Lethal Puncture: A stab attack that automatically targets the vitals of the enemy.

Power Counter: Block an Attack and immediately counter.

Qualities:

When a Quality is selected, your Claws permanently acquire those bonuses.

Cost: 750 Discordance Each

Extra Aura: You gain 2 Additional Auric Charges.

Quick Recovery: Your landing is 65% faster.

Silent Strike I: Your attacks are silent.

I found the answer in my Bladefire abilities. Lethal Puncture would give me the ability to hit a warped elf’s weakest point without needing to see anything. This used an Unholy Aura, however, something I rarely paid attention to. I couldn’t imagine I’d need it more than once every thirty seconds or so, but just in case, I purchased Extra Aura. This would give me the ability to use my Strikes a little more often.

The discordance was gone as quickly as it had arrived. But my form was stronger than ever and I was pleased to see how the reconstruction effort had gone.

Velking – Necromancer Lord of Monarchs –

Dark Devotion Rank: 3

Discordance Shards: 0

Twisted Monuments: 6

Thralls: 100/100

Minions: 200/200

Lieutenants: 2 (1 free slot)

Demi-Plane Location: Veiled Kingdom

Infusions and Abilities:

Physique:

Forms:

Viper Spines: Your body produces six paralyzing spines made out of bone that can fire out at any given time. These spines can be moved anywhere on the body at will and can extend up to one foot.

Undead Reconstruction: Once per day you may change your form to a wraith, skeleton or ghoul (current form) for 9 minutes. Your original form is restored to full structure and health upon reverting.

Stances:

Precognition Slip: Your ‘top’ half of the spirit submerges a few seconds into the future, informing your body of what is to come. As long as you remain undamaged, you will be able to see a few seconds into the future during the fight. This only works during combat.

Traits:

Undead Absorption: Repair your injuries by slaying an existing undead creature or digging up a grave containing the bones of a warrior slain in combat.

Bloodhound: Your sense of smell can now track a scent for ten days.

Shadowskin: When touching entirely shadow, your body blackens to match the darkness.

Reinforced Leg Grafting: Gain a 20 ft vertical leap for two minutes.

Carapace:

Evolutions:

Unhallowed Husk: Draws unholy energy into the body, granting the ability to counteract holy wards and divine attacks.

Spell Stitching: Magic threads are used to stitch your body together, adding +2 to the number of spells you may cast per day.

Claws:

Strikes:

Feral Swipe: A triple-claw attack that rends foes in half.

Bonebreaker: Your claws gain a force impact modifier.

Lethal Puncture: A stab attack that automatically targets the vitals of the enemy.

Qualities:

Blackened Claws: Enhance your claws with negative energy, dealing magic damage.

Extra Aura: You gain 2 Additional Auric Charges.

Eyes:

Abilities: /

Qualities:

Perfect Vision: Grants perfect vision up to 2 miles.

Heat Vision: Can see heat sources up to 60 feet.

Ghoul Abilities:

Powers:

Human Heart: Suppress a Frenzy or your Hunger for ten minutes.

Shadow Door: Creates a portal that allows you to pass through a wall, to the other side up to a range of 1 mile.  

Revenant’s Replica: Form a copy of yourself that will follow a mental plan that you give it. This replica cannot affect anything on the material realm, but will appear as the real you to all who look upon it.

Knock: You may unlock all mundane locks with a whisper

Face of Vengeance: Contort your face to appear as a victim of target’s darkest sin. Lasts for 10 minutes.

Ghoul’s Touch: Your ghoulish heritage finally manifests. You gain a paralyzing touch ability that you may activate at will. When a target is struck by your touch attack, they may attempt to resist the paralysis, if so, they are rendered immune to its effects for seven days. If they succumb to the dark magic, they are unable to move, talk or act for a full hour. (This ability functions separately from paralyzing bite, as that action always works).

Traits:

Unholy Affinity I: Ignore the repelling effects of non-enchanted holy symbols, prayers and consecration zones absent of the truly devout.

Necromancer Lord

Powers:

Control Undead: Once per day per Rank you may attempt to dominate an undead creature’s mind and seize control of it. The strength and willpower of the target determines the success of the ability. If successful, the undead loses all personality and becomes a thrall, but keeps its special abilities.

Drain Lifeforce: Consumes the remaining energy from a living target and restores you to full health. If the target is slain by the spell, they automatically become a zombie thrall.

Spell Lists:

Cryptosummoning: Summons the spirits of the dead.

Minion Blessings

Gravetongue: Followers are able to converse with you.

Blood Feast: Injuries increase their combat prowess whenever blood is drawn.

Spells Per Day: 5      

Known Spells:

Heal Undead

Animate Corpse

Wither

Raise Wight

Summon Spirit

Soul Trap

Carbon Copy

Detonate

Match Proportions

Enhanced Flight

Counterspell

Sleep

Sickening Smog

Bloodweb Bindings

Break Enchantment

Sickness Beam

Blind Senses

Terror Wave

Treaties: None Active

My defenses seemed woefully lacking compared to my offensive capabilities. It had been a task to rebuild to my exact specifications once more and I did so more out of spite than any kind of reasoning. Now that I was finished rebuilding, it was time to focus on improving my long-term survivability. And that meant improving my defenses. I was determined to keep this body for as long as I could – death was not a small thing, even for one who can defeat it.

“Go no further,” a voice called out. Ahead, I could see a witch elf, standing tall and wielding a rapier. He was standing on a broken fountain of an elven woman, blade drawn and pointed right at me. “Scoundrel, I see your heart.”

“Is that so?” I asked, stopping in my tracks. The man didn’t appear to be warped like the others. That didn’t mean he was a friend.

The elf wore armor made of scales, the amber light above giving them a cloudy reflection. Emblazoned on his chest was the symbol of a Broken Mask. He looked light on his feet and ready for any challenge.

“Indeed I do, I know you are a murderer and a blackguard, a killer from the beginning,” he said. “And I shall not allow one such as you to walk the streets. Meet me atop the Museum of Pity, weapon in hand. We shall settle this with honor.”

“Is he challenging you to a duel?” Orlin asked.

“I believe he is,” I said, snarling at the elf. “You are nothing to me. Strike me now or move aside.”

“I am not nothing,” he replied. “But I will not sully my blade with your foul claws. They shatter metal and bone alike. Where is the art in that? You are a brute and a fiend, but a useful one. Your purpose in this city suits my own…for now. Yet I know what you are. I would rather excise you once and for all.”

“You know nothing about me, of this I assure you,” I replied, incensed at his words. Still, if I struck at him, I would just be proving his point. The revenant within was enraged and desired to take the fight. So did I. “If it is death you seek, I shall meet you atop the museum. When the time is right.”

The vigilante bowed to me deeply, his blade flicking out in the process. I could see little crackles of electrical energy at the end. A magic weapon. One powerful enough for him to be confident to use in a fight – though not against an opponent who would attack the weapon. Interesting.

“Ring the bell thrice to summon me, I shall not tarry,” he said. And with that, he vanished in a puff of smoke.

“This is an odd place,” Orlin said once he had processed the challenge. “And you are stranger still for taking the duel. He will most certainly annihilate you.”

“He’s out of the way, isn’t he?” I said. “I’d rather take the fight later. After I have gained my weapon.”

“You would keep your word and fight him?” Orlin inquired as we continued on our way, past the broken fountain. The city was starting to change. The iron walls surrounding us, the brutal architecture, was beginning to make way for a little conclave of marble floors and smooth white walls.

A band of mercenaries was gathered within this area, sitting on the ground with a lit fire to warm them. They were a ragged bunch, dressed in leather armors and wielding bows and staves.

“This must be the Grey Wolf district,” Orlin said, gesturing towards the ground beneath us. “What do you suppose this place was for? No buildings, no towers, just smooth white flooring.”

“Perhaps this was where the people gathered to worship or something,” I mused. “Though I don’t sense much holy energy in the area.”

“What shall we do about the party ahead?”

“They are nothing to us, let them keep their distance,” I said. “There must be a statue somewhere.”

As we started to make our way past the mercenaries, they all started shouting. “Stop! Stop!” This caused Orlin to turn and face them.

“Mind your own business!” he said.

“There’s a huge prowling statue on the other side, it’s demolished everything in its path,” one of the mercenaries shouted. “We’re just trying to give you a friendly warning.”

The Lionsmouth statue was alive? Well this just got more interesting.

Chapter 6

The huge beast was made of solid granite and stalked the streets like an actual lion. Everywhere it stepped, it left large cracks in the ground and I could see many white buildings knocked over like dominos.

“Something tells me you can’t just walk up and have a chat with this thing,” Hix said as I slowly approached the creature, my claws raised up high.

Orlin was behind me, way behind me, casting a few dozen spells on my person, though I felt no different. I suppose I wouldn’t notice until I was in the middle of the fight.

The statue was nearly ten feet tall, though it kept its body lower to the ground as it stalked. Upon its back I could see a Warped Elf sitting, carrying a longspear. A spirit was trapped within, just as before. Was it controlling the statue? That would be reasonable to conclude. Slay the elf, take down the statue. Easy enough.

I broke out into a sprint, supernatural speed carrying me across the landscape with ease. Orlin’s magic was relentless in improving me and I moved like lightning, racing up the side of the lion’s back before it knew what was going on.

My bladefire claws activated as I used my newest ability, Lethal Puncture, stabbing straight towards the exposed warped elf’s body. The claws seemed to move straight towards the right shoulder and I speared the elf through.

An explosion, green and blinding, met me and I was thrown from the lion’s body. I hit the ground and slid a few feet back, my body burning from the energy.

The warped elf let out a hideous shriek as the lion stormed towards me. They picked up speed and the elf threw her spear straight towards me. It was faster than I could react and in an instant, I was skewered. But only for a second. I activated my undead reconstruction ability and became a wraith, avoiding the massive damage that would come my way.

I flew upwards now incorporeal and invisible. With me gone, the elf was focusing on Orlin, who was scrambling in surprise that he had been spotted.

“A little help!” he yelped as he cast a few spells that were useless against a stone, mindless beast. The lion lunged towards him but I intercepted, appearing just in time to pull him away from the swiping claw. I tossed the man aside as lightly as I could and then scrambled out of the way from another strike, this time a claw swiping right at my head.

I ducked and scuttered, grabbing onto the hind leg of the lion before hoisting myself up. I leapt over the side of the beast’s back and stabbed the exact same spot once more. The elf, who was partially fused to the lion’s back, was unable to defend herself and she immediately began to shrivel up.

The statue lost all of its magic instantly and fell to the ground in a reclining, patient position.

“Well that was easy!” Orlin said, dusting himself off as he approached the inert statue.

500 Discordance Gained! appeared in my vision as I pulled my claws from the flesh of the dead creature. A spirit sphere gathered up and flew behind me, falling in line with the other spirit I had rescued. I was gaining quite the following it would seem.

I approached the mouth of the statue, suspect of it still. The creature did not move and I had gained some discordance, so there was a large chance this was over. But I didn’t want to give it an opening, just in case.

“Verdant Skies are Endless,” I said as instructed. The statue of the Lion slowly moved up and down, acknowledging silently. The wall behind us, the smooth white wall, slid open revealing a secret chamber. A chapel of some sort.

“Now that’s what we’re talking about!” a man said as he walked up beside me. “Thanks for clearing the way. We’ve been on this quest for—”

I skewered the mercenary in the side of the head before moving onto the others, leaping between them and cutting their heads off with ease. No one had a chance to react as I slew all of them, dropping their bodies to the ground before they even knew they were dead.

Slaughter! 1,200 Discordance Gained! appeared in my vision. That was much better.

“What the hell!” Orlin shouted. “Why did you do that?”

Oh right. I had a civilian following me. “They wanted the same treasure as I. I made the conclusion faster,” I replied. “Sorry if it was sudden.”

“You murdered them, you beast!” Orlin spat. “A fair fight is a fair fight but you just slew them like cattle.”

“They died with their boots on. I am not a human and they should have known better than to approach,” I replied. I was more interested by Orlin’s reaction than annoyed. I hadn’t considered he would take offense at my decision. No doubt he was putting himself in the exact same situation.

“I see,” the wizard darkly muttered. He did not seem pleased one bit. “I suppose I should have expected it. Do as you wish and don’t let me bitch about it.”

He knew his place. An admirable trait in a man. Or was he just biding his time, waiting to betray me at the key moment? Hard to tell but I suppose I would find out in due time.

“Let us move on,” I said, moving towards the mouth of the secret entrance. “There is much more for us to do.”

Orlin did not hesitate. He stepped over the corpses and followed after me, saying little else. I could see he now knew what he was dealing with. But he wasn’t afraid. He would stay with me, I think. At least until he had what he was looking for. After that? All bets were off.

The building was a chapel of some kind, with stained glass windows and wooden pews forming rows. There was no altar however. Just a podium and some steps to elevate a speaker.

A statue of a witch elf stood at the podium, a large sword in his hand. The weapon was impressive in its size, nearly fifty inches long, and wide enough to cut through anything. The weapon was rusted and brown, from hilt to blade, but despite this seemed to have an edge to it.

“I suppose that’s yours,” Orlin said from the entrance to the chapel, crouching down. I strolled confidently to the weapon and seized hold of it.

A surge of energy passed through the blade handle to me and in an instant, I could feel our spirits linking.

Weapon Fused: Amber Blade of the Heartseeker.

You may now channel Discordance into your Ancient Weapon, strengthening your bond. The stronger the bond, the more abilities you will have. This weapon cannot be destroyed. All power it gains is permanent.

The Heartseeker became free as I yanked it from the statue, the witch elf crumbling to pieces when I took the weapon. It was heavy but strangely a part of my own body now; I could feel it moving as I moved it.

“Strange,” I said, spinning in a circle, slashing the air with incredible speed. “I’ve never wielded a blade in my life and yet I feel like I’ve trained with this daily.”

“If you take us to the Ettercap Merchant, we shall infuse your blade,” the spirit of the gate elf whispered to me. “Empower it with our spirits. It will free us from the pain and allow us to maintain Tradition.”

That sounded better than using my own discordance, though I would probably invest some points in as well. An indestructible weapon? This could be the key to my long-term survival. Especially if I were to learn the lich techniques of rebirth via phylactery.

“Very well,” I said, slinging the blade over my shoulder. I had no holster for the weapon, no sheath to keep it safe, so I would just hold it indefinitely. I would not tire and strangely, the weapon seemed to have a sense behind me and I could feel Orlin as he moved left and right, trying to steer clear of the blade. “Lead the way.”

The spirit orbs drifted out of the abandoned chapel and took us to a great series of stairs, leading to a higher district in the city. The steps were lined with gold brick but many cracks were present. The orbs would ascend no further.

“The chapel lies up the road,” the spirit told me. “But there is another witch elf. Warped and sickened.”

I gripped my sword tightly, feeling the energy within. The blade was hungry for magic. I could send that freshly earned discordance inside…let’s see what happens.

Amber Blade has gained 500 discordance! You have unlocked a new Upgrade.

Choose an upgrade path. (Note: You may only purchase from one path until it is completed.)

Path of the Knight: Allows for the Manifesting of a Silvershade Shield while fighting.

Path of the Fencer: Improves your ability to block and parry attacks.

Path of the Berserker: Greatly boosts damage output.

Interesting. Putting in raw amounts of energy produced upgrades. Fencer seemed like an excellent choice, for my fighting style was fast and frenzied. Perhaps I could learn to use my claws and my sword in tandem…

Path of the Fencer has been selected! Your weapon is now able to change forms to the Fencing Blade. When the Fencing Blade is out, you may use any of the abilities you have purchased.

You have 1 Upgrade! Please select a Passive Benefit.

Lightning Speed: When wielding the Fencing Blade, your movement speed increases by 45%.

Disarming Strike: Allows you to effortlessly disarm opponents.

Spell Striker: You may strike magical attacks with your weapon to disperse them.

I stared at the options. These were incredible bonuses to choose from. Lightning Speed alone would improve my offense and defensive capabilities. Certainly worth the investment of discordance. Perhaps I should put in a bit more?

Another 500 transferred. Upgrade Gained!  Perfect. I took Spell Striker. It seemed that I needed to buy everything in this branch before I could open up the next section, but there were many. This weapon had old memories and great power. Improving the bond would only bring greater clarity and connection between us.

“Where was that warped elf?” I asked, raising my sword. The Fencer configuration activated and my sword grew slender and rapier-like. I knew how to flick and parry, how to lunge and strike the vitals with ease. The weapon understood my goals and knew it had a purpose. In a way, I could feel the weapon’s grim determination to see the enemy destroyed. It knew something wrong had happened in the Silver Salt City and was eager to right it.

Chapter 7

The Amber Blade of the Heartseeker in hand, I walked up the steps leading to the chapel in question. The black citadels were all around us in this part of the city, this section still standing. I could see movement within some of the structures, though nothing as threatening as what roamed the streets.

Nearly nine feet tall and carrying a huge, ball mace, the Warped Elf was wearing heavy armor and a bassinet helm that covered their face. Golden frills lined the elf’s pauldrons and I could see some military decoration on the breast.

“Your skinny sword won’t have much of a chance against that brute,” Orlin said. “It’ll snap when you try to block.”

“Why block when I could just outpace him?” I said, grinning as I raised my sword. The now-rapier Heartseeker was out and steady, waiting for the perfect time to strike. It seemed to understand how to fight just as much as I did.

The street above us had another fountain, this one with seven statues of wizened old men, carrying various artifacts in their hands. Water poured from their mouths, perpetually running into the murky, silvered waters. The warped elf was standing next to the water, staring into it eternally. Not a single thought in its mind.

Perhaps I could get the element of surprise on the beast. I crept up behind it, sword in hand, but as I approached, the Warped Elf rose up high, turning to face me.

“This area is closed for reconstruction!” he bellowed. “Leave now!” But before he could give me a chance to reply or think out his offer, he came charging at me, mace raised high. I leapt aside with ease, dodging as the huge weapon smashed into the ground where I had been standing.

My reflexes were faster than ever, thanks to the Amber Blade. The fencing configuration gave me the ability to control my steps with relative ease as I rushed towards my target’s exposed back. He might be armored but having just swung his weapon down hard, he was unable to defend from a direct hit.

Glurkch! The blade slipped into the creature’s body with perfect precision, striking something vital. I drew the sword out clean and leapt backwards, spinning with the weapon in midair. My weapon was not suited for slashing effectively, however, and the spin was useless.

I landed and turned around to see the mace-wielding monstrosity leaning over, holding its side with one hand and the mace with the other. It was breathing heavily. Letting out another animalistic call, the Warped Elf stormed towards me… but stopped short, slamming his mace into the ground instead.

A huge shockwave of earth surged through the ground, causing a tidal wave of torn terrain to come my way. I quickly danced across the split and bouncing earth, too nimble to be caught off guard. I hopped from wave to wave of earth until I reached the slamming elf. He had just brought his mace down onto the ground for another shockwave, his arms extended and head down. I used full advantage of my momentum and speared through his head, breaking through the armor in the process.

The witch elf fell back, writhing on the ground. His body shriveled up quickly, his armor and weapons bursting into flames and vanishing.

“Finally,” the soul said as it floated up out of the wretched corpse of the man I had slain. “This body was pure torment. I thank you.”

“Get in line,” I muttered, gesturing to the other spirits behind me. 500 Discordance gained appeared in my vision once more. Was this enough for another upgrade? Only one way to find out.

I poured the newest amount of points straight into my sword.

You have 1 Upgrade! Please select a Passive Benefit.

Disarming Strike: Allows you to effortlessly disarm opponents.

Last choice. A disarming ability. Not amazing but I suppose it would be handy in some situations. I purchased and watched as the interface of the weapon began to shift.

Amber Blade has reached Level 1. Upgrades now cost 750 Discordance.

Ancestral Memory has been unlocked. Select one to gain a new ability.

Scholar’s History: You may cast spells from the tip of your blade.

Soldier’s Memoirs: You gain natural armor when carrying your weapon.

Leader’s Dictate: You may see invisible foes and weak points.

Leader’s Dictate seemed useful for a variety of reasons. I selected the option and watched as the sword slightly changed. The rust on the handle shifted and became gold instead.

Path of the Fencer Branch 2 has been unlocked! Purchase all upgrades to unlock the next one.

I would read the upgrades later because I was out of discordance. For now. These spirits behind me, following as I made my way up the tower that was the Chapel of Heights, would empower the weapon soon enough. And I would have many more offensive and defensive options to survive this strange place.

Chapter 8

The Chapel of Heights lived up to its namesake, for we took many flights of stairs to finally reach the white, stone building. While most of the architecture was still jagged and black, this chapel was made up of smooth stone, soft white with grey flooring. Many statues were embedded into the sides of the chapel roof, faces of men and women of ages past.

This place felt vaguely holy, though not towards Good or Evil. It wasn’t holy towards any ordered power…there was a sub power of a sort here. Like the Witch Elves had their own domain. Their own faith.

“Tell me, Orlin,” I asked as we approached the large wooden doors to the chapel. “What do you know of the witch elves traditions?”

“I know that they have reasonably replaced faith in gods with a faith in the institution,” he said. “And it served them well. Everything falls to the tradition. The Estas must be kept, they say, in order for all to be safe. It’s easy to understand the Estas as a symbol of everyone’s belief in mutual cooperation.”

“Yet it seems to have a power,” I mused.

“What makes you say that?”

“You don’t sense this?” I asked, motioning to the area around us. “The Estas has a presence. It is like the holy magics of priests and prophets alike. Their belief has given it power. Profound power.”

“You’re a madman, what you are sensing is just a kind of magic that they tapped into with secrets that they’re hiding from the rest of us,” Orlin proudly said.

“I don’t think that’s the case,” I replied. “This doesn’t strike me as smoke and mirrors. I have seen many religions posturing but this? They are different.”

“You speak rightly,” a trembling voice said. An elderly man emerged from the chapel, going through a much smaller door attached to the gates. It seemed to be just his size.

He was a hunched fellow, walking on a wobbly stick. He did not appear to be a witch elf, but rather a human. He wore a long white chasuble with red runic lines in the middle and on the edges. Atop his head was a conical hat, the carved image of a hundred faces in the center.

I could sense an immense aura of power around him. He was a cleric of the Estas Faith but curiously not an elf. A human who had taken to the ancient traditions. I stood carefully, because if he had the power to ward, it might be stronger than anything I had seen before. There was no telling what the Estas faith could do to the undead if I pissed it off.

“Who do I have the honor of meeting?” I asked.

The elder laughed. “You are a monstrous killing machine and yet you know enough about power to show respect. That is something I commend. I am Pierre of the Peer. My purpose in life was to simply archive and document the traditions of the Silver Salt people, but I fell deeply in love with their faith. When the Light was stolen, when the terrible transformation began to affect all within, I was one of the few who had the magical power to defend territory. This chapel is perhaps the last safe place in all of the city.”

“I am Velking Demoneye,” I said. “Lord of the Bleak Pyramid and soon to be slayer of the Bishop Favis.”

“The one who stole the light,” the old man muttered. “Ah yes, I know of the Bishop all too well.”

“How did it begin, pray-tell?” Orlin asked, stepping up to join the conversation.

“It started with a fevered series of dreams. The end of our civilization. This is what he had confided in me, weeks before he stole the light,” Pierre explained. “He saw a great golden cloud billowing towards us and said it would be the end. Imagine our surprise when days later, a cloud appeared. He went into a frenzy after that and stole the light.”

“This does not sound as if he were planning some great heist,” I said.

“Such an act is as mad as he was,” Pierre sighed. “But upon stealing the light, his body became infused with such corruption. I and a few other clerics were able to seal him away, to prevent him from harming anyone, but the curse came upon them after that. Those who now carry the seals are wandering this accursed ground, mad and contorted.”

“So you’re saying that you know where my target it, yet he is sealed?” I asked.

The man walked me over to the edge of the steps and gestured towards a great citadel in the center of the city. It was twice the size of every other cathedral and seemed to extend endlessly towards the heavens. “The Palace of Contemplation, we called it once,” he said. “He wanders within, truly mad and ferocious. To take the light means to destroy his body. Even then, how would you even contain such a power? After you slew the body, the light would undoubtedly just possess you.”

An infusion of supreme power? That would be interesting to experience. Though, I could not bear with the idea of becoming possessed. I should make preparations for this.

“You speak as someone who has a plan in mind,” I said, turning to face the older priest. He stared at me, fearless, despite the fact that I was a hideous monstrosity.

“The faith hangs in the balance. Our traditions die if the witch elves do,” he said. “And then, what is there of the Estas? Without the Light, what are they keepers of?”

A stark concern. Enough to motivate him to aid me in any way I needed. I best not look this gift horse in the mouth.

“What are you doing here?” Hix muttered. “This is a place of virtue and goodness, for they follow something that is moral and decent. Kill the old bastard and then kick in the door, damn the seals.”

“You think without any inkling of the trouble the future can hold,” I said. “This old man knows many secrets of this place. I will not be disruptive for the sake of entertaining you.”

“I’m just saying, why are you bothering to play the game? Clearly this man wants to use you for his own ends. You ever think about what happens after you kill the target?” the devil asked.

“You are suggesting that I burn this all down simply because you see no use,” I replied. “I, on the other hand, have already reaped great rewards from following the path laid out before me. There is a power within this city, ancient and untapped. A goldmine of discordance and secrets. And you think I’d slap away the man who hands me a shovel?”

This caused my tempter to grow silent as he sulked away. I returned my mind to Pierre. “What must be done to unseal the doors?”

“Find the witch elf magicians, the Costikars. Three in total, each one commands tremendous magic and strength,” the old man said. “I have tried to slay them myself but it is impossible. I am simply too weak compared to those warped creatures. The curse gives profound power to the profane.”

“Yes, I can sense that,” I said. How could I bend such an energy to my own will? After all, I was a cursed corpse, suffering greatly anyway. What would be so wrong with taking on a little warping, just to gain that level of power?

“Three targets,” I said. “And this will open the way?”

“Indeed, but I would warn you to seek out a method to protect yourself from the Light. It is a searing and all-consuming thing. Without a proper container or vessel, you shall be destroyed, as perhaps will be the rest of the city.”

“Do you know where I could find one?” I asked.

“That escapes me,” he replied. “My gut would say that one of the remaining witch elves, the Everstrong, would know.”

“Everstrong?” I asked, thinking about the elf who had challenged me to a duel. “You are speaking of those who haven’t changed from the curse?”

“Indeed. There are a few that walk through the streets freely but even then, they seem…changed. Their minds do not comprehend where we are. They cannot be reasoned with beyond playing along with their games. I had no time for such nonsense.”

Perhaps my reward for winning the fight could be information on how to contain this Light. If I played my cards right, I might be able to leave this land with more than just a finalized contract. I could possess a portion of the very Witch Light itself, an artifact that would undoubtedly supercharge my Pyramid.

Chapter 9

Orlin recorded the map from the old man as I entered the Chapel further, looking for the Ettercap Merchant.

He wasn’t hard to find. In the area where an altar had once been, boxes upon boxes of junk were stacked up. Sitting behind a table was an ettercap, a strange demon creature. It had a stubby body, like that of a beetle, with two heads, one of a human and the other of an eagle. Dozens of little hands emerged from underneath his blue cloak, managing his inventory.

The spirits drifted over to him at once, swirling around.

“Spirits!” the merchant said, his bird beak opening to let out the words in a high pitched shrill. “Am I relieved to see some friendly faces. Come, come, let me bind you to a safe vessel.”

They converged on the man’s head for a moment, the demon’s eyes growing wide as he heard their whispers. “Ahhh, I see. Bring the blade, stranger. Fear not, I’m an honest demon.”

“What am I dealing with here?” I asked as I approached the squat beast.

“Ettercaps are scavengers and barterers, they love a good deal. Tend to be sentimentalists, they’re attracted to energies of items that have meaning,” Hix replied, earning his pay once more.

“I could imagine in a land of tradition and holy objects he would be thrilled with this place,” I replied.

“Indeed. You’ve little to worry about with ettercaps. They’re a little dense, so even when they think they’re being clever, you can see it a mile away,” Hix said.

I approached the strange being and placed my sword on the table in front of him. The merchant’s hands rubbed together as he examined the weapon. “The Amber Blade of the Heartseeker. Seventeen owners, each one a witch elf with profound ability. Each one died with the blade in hand. It would seem you are holding a weapon of ancient powers.”

“The spirits want to fuse with the weapon, to aid me,” I said. “Can you bind them?”

“This is a process I can perform,” the merchant said. “But the choices you make are permanent. Each spirit bound can fundamentally change your blade. There are no take backsies.”

“And your fee?” I asked.

“No charge…” he said. “The taste of such sentimental weaponry is enough to sate me for decades. Even touching the blade is enough to keep me real.”

“See? Harmless urchins,” Hix said.

“Bind them,” I ordered. “And I shall bring more for you to do so.”

The demon chuckled and began to rub his hands across the blade. The spirits flew into the weapon, one by one, pulses of white energy surging with each entrance.

You have Gained 3 Weapon Transmutations! Select from below!

Quicksilver Composition: Your weapon becomes infused with Quicksilver, dealing extra damage to all witch elves.

Bladefire Adaption: Your strike abilities can be used with your weapon.

Extra Weapon: Split the Amber Blade into two smaller weapons.

Defending: Weapon knows how to defend you on its own.

Piercer: All piercing strikes cause explosive damage.

Returning: Returns after striking an opponent when thrown.

These were the upgrades I had been looking for! Raw power from the Quicksilver Composition, the Bladefire Adaption so I could continue to build my striking abilities and Piercer, to make all of my shots with the Fencing weapon vicious. I had given up slashing to use a rapier but the lunging would now be exceptionally dangerous to enemies.

The other options faded as I felt the blade shift in my hand. It grew silvery, with a slight green aura around the entire weapon. A spark of magic popped on the end of the tip, suggesting far more devastating effects if I were to skewer an enemy with it.

“Just like that?” I said, throwing out a few jabs with my blade to test it out. “The spirits are infused?”

“Their minds now lay dormant. The gifts given are their final contribution to the cause,” the ettercap said. “You must not worry about them waking anytime soon. They, like the blade, will certainly outlast a mere revenant.”

“I’d like to see someone kill me with my weapon in hand,” I chuckled.

“Quite the contrary, friend,” the ettercap replied. “I mean that you will be successful in your endeavors and will thus pass on.”

I did not care to hear those words. Thoughts of revenge were far from my mind, as I was able to channel my hunger towards the revenge of my client.  Yet, this monster’s words conjured images of Eris Lanyer. A rage built in me, what was I doing out here? This was no path to revenge!

I snarled and turned towards Orlin, then paused. Wait, there was power here. Great power, if not from my contact with Orlin, it would come from the Crown that he sought out. The hunger could be sated by reminding myself there was much discordance to feed off. It took some work but I was able to regain control of my mind.

That was strange. I had not felt the undead beast surface in quite some time. I needed to be careful moving forward. Even the slightest thought of my slayer could send me back into a frenzy.

“You alright there?” Orlin asked.

“I’m fine,” I darkly muttered, snapping out of it. This was more unsettling than usual. I don’t know why. “Let’s move on.”

“We’ve got three targets to choose from, all of them look quite nasty,” Orlin said as he cast a spell on the wall of the chapel, creating an illustration of the city. “To the south, in the fountain district, is the Archcaster Dion. He possessed the most arcane power out of all the magicians in the city, and when he twisted, he gained the ability to cast without spellbooks or scrolls. He lobs spells like stones.

“In the northern quarter, just above the Bells of Fate and Faith, there lurks the Blademage Kalli. She commands the power of many ancestral weapons with her magic, empowering them all at the same time. Pierre has seen her throw hundreds of spears at her target with ease.”

I nodded at these two options. “They seem quite powerful. The third?”

A large red X appeared around a vault at the far eastern edge of the city. “The Artifact Collector, Epicus, was probably empowered the most by the curse. He wields many powerful artifacts that have made him impossible to even lay siege to. I suggest we do that one last.”

“Three targets, all of immense power,” I mused. “I must admit, I did not think I’d be finding such fruitful hunting grounds.”

“You relish this?” Orlin asked. “For I fear we may not be strong enough to face any of these.”

“You may be right,” I said, looking at my own weapon. My upgrade was good but we needed another. One for the wizard. Without him confidently by my side, these fights could go much worse. “We must find you a staff. One that will amplify your powers tenfold.”

Orlin laughed, then paused. “Are you serious? You would allow me such a prize?”

“I am not your owner, we are partners in this, are we not?” I asked.

“A partner does not slaughter wantonly without asking,” Orlin said, still holding his ground from before.

“See? This is what happens when you try to befriend people,” Hix said. “They try to infect you with their…”

I silenced the demon as I slowly nodded. “Very well, Orlin. I see your point. I will hold back my actions, if you continue to serve faithfully with a greater weapon.”

“Done,” Orlin said without blinking. He seemed to relax a little. I’m sure a great weight was lifted from his shoulders. I didn’t care much one way or the other. If I could modify my behavior temporarily to gain a major benefit, I would do so. I had self-control. I wasn’t here to mindlessly indulge in evil, as Hix was trying to suggest.

No, I was here to gain power and an illusionist as skilled as Orlin would be a tremendous ally. I don’t think it would be hard to convince him to join my side in the upcoming skirmishes, especially since our foes would be undead monsters. And if I could find him an artifact that made him even more formidable? All the better.

Hix emoted to me fears of betrayal, but I ignored them. Betrayal was one of those things that simply happened in this line of work. Those who walked outside of the lines of the law, who worked without contracts or social backings, were bound to be screwed over. It was the nature of the beast to bite and be bitten.

This wasn’t to say that I wouldn’t destroy those who betrayed me. But I would not devolve into paranoid madness to prevent people around me from gaining more power. The stronger my followers were, the stronger I was in absentia. Could Orlin be swayed to my side? Perhaps, if I made the case more pragmatically. And showed I wasn’t a bloodthirsty psychopath, as Hix was pushing me to be.

Chapter 10

The Ettercap Merchant knew of a place where we could find a great staff of magical power. He was more than happy to share its location, on the promise that he would be able to touch it after we retrieved the weapon. I saw no reason not to agree.

There was the Temple to Reason, built deep beneath the earth. Within it, a great artifact, the Staff of Erudition, rested, waiting for someone to take it. The temple was a Living Mausoleum, a place where the witch elves retired to when they were ready for a long rest. Those who were sleeping within had become worsened by the curse and were especially feral, making the temple off-limits to any reasonable adventuring party.

It would be a gauntlet, that much was clear. The temple had only three chambers, we knew this thanks to the extensive records of architecture kept within the Chapel of Heights. Within each chamber, there were at least a hundred witch elves, most of whom were warped. I had to move from one chamber to another, to another, fighting through wave after wave until I reached where the staff was stored. And then, I would have to hope that the wielder of the staff wasn’t any stronger than the others I had slaughtered my way through.

All in all, it would be a violent bloodbath. A true test of my martial skill. Was I up to the task? I suppose there was only one way of knowing. This would be a good trial for entering the battlefield myself during war. After all, I would be fighting thousands on the fields of Lepidonia, martialing victory singlehandedly if need be.

I was intrigued by the possibility of handling myself against so many foes. It would be better to learn here, where I was fighting mighty enemies, then facing weaklings on the field of battle. A being of my strength needed sparring partners who could potentially win, otherwise I would learn little.

Orlin was far less enthusiastic about the upcoming struggle. He asked if there was maybe a better place to go, or perhaps a different treasure to obtain from somewhere less difficult, but my mind was settled. I would be diving into the Temple of Reason, to test my skills of war.

“Come, ease your face,” I said as we walked across the great bridge that connected the Chapel to another pavilion, one inaccessible by any other way.

The Central Pavilion was connected to the rest of the city’s heart, able to enter any of the religious sites without touching the floors below. This gave the impression of a winding network of stairs going up and down, with buildings accessible as far as the eye could see.

“We are walking straight into oblivion,” the old man groaned. “It is one thing to smartly pick our targets and dispatch them with ruthless efficiency, but to dive into the so-called Temple of Reason seems to be the opposite of the namesake.”

“Yes but imagine the power you shall have when we succeed,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. A human expression. He shuddered horrifically from my touch and I realized why I didn’t do such gestures in the first place. The living recoiled always from the dead, no matter how familiar their voice may be.

Such a fact caused sorrow to well up within me. It was a great sadness, a pain of separation that could never be solved. There was an eternal gap between me and all other sentient minds – the vast abyss of undeath and the pains and madness that came with it.

The sorrow was like a lead weight in me, attaching itself to my legs and slowing me down – though not physically. It was strange to sense sadness within this frame, for normally rage or bitter envy was the case. But here, it was a profound misery. Something devouring me from the inside. Would I ever truly be able to connect with anyone? Or would I simply hear their words and think nothing of the person on the other side?

As I pondered this, we made our way down a flight of stairs to where a band of humans were gathered. They were adventurers, comically small compared to the rest of the setting, sitting in an open circle, drinking and laughing. They had weapons on their persons but not drawn. It would be an easy kill…if not for Orlin. Damn it all.

“Ah! Strangers,” Orlin said, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “I wonder what their take of the land is.”

“Go and speak with them,” I said. “I have no patience for dealing with adventuring folk.”

Orlin needed no encouragement; he quickly departed my side, rushing over to the men and women who were eager to see him. Such warriors were confident in their abilities, to not go on the defensive upon seeing us. Or perhaps they were just decent people who weren’t paranoid at every turn. Idiots.

“Do you see how Orlin talks to them?” Hix asked as we watched the magician join the group for libations before telling a story that had them all laughing. “So easily. So eager for connection with something real. He knows you’re an abomination, friend. Better kill him before he kills you.”

“Are you willing to make a friendly wager on his loyalties?” I asked. “Because I tire of your free chatter.”

“A bet? On the possibilities of brutal betrayal? Now we’re talking,” Hix said. “How about this, if he betrays us or tries to kill us by the end of this adventure, you will say that I am right and grant me the right to opine on such things.”

“And if I win, you shall provide me with two upgrades to my eyes, powerful ones,” I said. “The man simply has to either part ways or join me long term for the bet to be won.”

“What if he joins you with the hopes of sabotage?”

“Bound minions cannot readily upend their master,” I replied. “I will sense his intentions instantly.”

“Damn…you seem a little confident about this, but I don’t see why. The man’s a complete stranger. You can’t trust him. Or, really, you can trust him to be decent and do the decent thing: kill your ass before you bring more darkness into the world,” Hix said as he settled down.

I pondered this as Orlin drank and ate with his new friends. The adventurers were excited to have someone to trade trinkets and treasure with, and soon the entire camp was laughing. One of the women waved me over, to show she wasn’t afraid of my undead visage, but I declined. Their mirth sickened me, it felt like knives in my stomach. The urge to burrow was great but there was no earth beneath me, just steel beams and endless skies.

Chapter 11

“I’m no bleeding heart,” Orlin said. “I’ve had my fair share of hard decisions to make and cold actions to undertake. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that there’s never a reason to disrupt the status quo with cruelty and capriciousness.” He opened up his hand to reveal a few crushed red petals. “See? Those adventurers gave us precious advice for free, just because I told them a few stories and traded crap with them. They know all about the Temple of Reason.”

“Oh yes? And what was their advice?” I asked, my sarcasm so stark that he missed it entirely.

“There’s a bell in the center that one of the Warped Elves controls. When he senses someone entering, he begins to ring it, whipping the rest into a frenzy,” he explained, conjuring a small image of a bell in front of me. “You’ll have to fight your way through the first chamber, but if you climb the belltower in the center and kill the bellman…they should theoretically go right back to sleep.”

“What stopped them from undertaking such an action?” I asked.

“They can’t fight a single witch elf, let alone a swarm of warped ones,” Orlin said. “They’re just scavengers and historians, looking for bits and pieces of a long lost civilization.”

“I was under the impression that this happened rather recently,” I said, tilting my head.

“Recent to a witch elf is much longer to the rest of the population,” the wizard replied. “The witch elves have long been extinct in all other parts of the world.”

“So the loss of the Witch Light affected all other cities?” I asked.

“Not at first. But slowly, they stopped being able to reincarnate themselves,” Orlin said. “Otherwise they came back as monsters. Most fled to islands and abandoned dungeons in the hopes of waiting for someone to solve the problem.”

I gazed out at the temple in the distance. “How long has it been?”

“At least a thousand years,” Orlin said. “Give or take.”

“This place has held up remarkably well for being so old,” I said.

“That is the power of the Estas Faith,” the wizard replied as we began to walk up the stairs leading to the temple of Reason. “While the light faded, the Keepers and those who walk in faith kept the monuments and traditions still alive. Their collective faith has preserved the city.”

We stopped at the front of the great wooden gates. A man was carved on the front of the door, his expression in perpetual question as he held up a book in hand. ‘Let All Who Reason Enter’ was carved above in ornate lettering. Thick dents coming from inside were bulging out of the bottom part of the door, indicating that many things tried to get out at one point. None were successful, however.

“Are you going to join me in the melee?” I asked.

“Afraid not,” Orlin said. “I’d rather secure the door and be ready to fish you out in case of trouble.” He handed me a small ring. “This shall teleport you to me in a pinch. Only trouble is the ring breaks when used, so please, for fuck’s sake, don’t use it.”

I took the small golden band and slipped it around the finger on my left hand…causing a memory to slowly return. It was a small sliver, a slight flash. If I stared into the memory, I could gain more of my soul…what was wrong with a little peak? I had the hourglass now. I could afford another Soul Surge!

In an instant, the world around me was transformed. Hector, thirty, was gazing at a ring in a window. Such a tradition was foolish, spending pay on a wedding band, but it was all the rage. He wouldn’t be able to lock down his bride to be without it. He wasn’t excited however, about the fact that he had a ring to buy. He was cursing many things. He could not forget the name of the slave girl who had been murdered.

Kanetta. The long haired beauty, with a soft accent and even softer eyes, had been the love of Hector’s life. And she was still alive. No, no she was dead…but waiting for me. Or him? The flashback was strange as I could see a shadow of the revenant beside Hector.

“Just take the damn thing, it’s not worth your pay,” the Revenant muttered to Hector. “Smash a fist in and take the band. It’s not like they’ll do anything other than flog you. You can handle a flogging.”

“Fucking industry is a scam,” Hector agreed. I watched him sulk away and fish into his bag, finding a month’s worth of pay. He cared nothing for the woman who would wear this band, other than the fact that she could make him food. A month’s pay for a lifetime of sandwiches. Was that really the way he had lived his life?

The flashback ended as quickly as it started. Memories came back and I could feel something surging within my chest. Soul Surge has occurred! Energies transferred to The Tempus Hourglass. You need 3 more surges for a Soul Fragment.

“You alright?” Orlin asked as he watched me. I had grown silent for a moment as these memories came through. The Revenant had been there? Whispering to Hector, telling him to just give into his anger. The shadow of the man in life was what he became in death.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Just stunned by how gorgeous the accessory makes me.”

Orlin chuckled and gestured towards the twin doors. “Anytime you’re ready. I’ll buff you as best I can.”

I grabbed hold of the double doors and hoisted them open, causing the large portals to grind as they swung outwards. A horde of warped elves, tall and hideous, were gathered in a cluster in front of the passageway, sleeping quietly. Their bodies rose and lowered softly, not reacting to the sound of the door swiftly being slammed shut as Orlin used his magics to close it back up.

I paused, rapier drawn and at the ready. The creatures all stayed perfectly still, sleeping with eyes shut. Perhaps I could get the drop on the –

As I thought the words, a hideous bell began to chime, ringing wildly throughout the entire temple. In an instant, dozens of warped elves were awake and standing, charging towards me like zombies – but far worse than mere undead creatures. They had razor sharp claws and bony limbs that allowed them to lope on all fours, giving them incredible speed as well as the power to pounce with ease.

Twenty warped elves were atop me in a second, leaping from all angles. I flicked my sword, but these creatures cared nothing about the damage dealt to them, they just wanted to swarm me to death.

I dropped the blade, extended my claws and activated Viper Spines. Immediately, dozens of sharp points burst out of my body, paralytic tips ready to stop any opponent in his tracks.

Self-preservation was not on the list of the wild horde and they charged into me anyway, my spikes skewering and sticking many of them, causing them to fall over, paralyzed. The ranks thinned out as I began to slash my way through them, fighting and cutting indiscriminately.

Body after body fell and yet they kept coming, not just from inside this chamber but from holes in the ceilings as well. It appeared as if the murderous swarm was able to move through the entire place with ease.

I decided to go on the offensive. I dashed free of a swarm of hissing witch elves and grabbed my sword, my speed increasing even more thanks to its abilities. I leapt up into one of the holes in the ceiling and began to climb through.

A few warped elves were inside, baring their fangs and trying to fight, but the quarters were far too cramped for them. My ability to move the viper spines forward, shooting them like cannons from my shoulders, made for some easy kills and I fought my way into another chamber.

The bell ringing was greatest here, so I dropped through the murder hole and landed on the edge of a wooden platform. I was on the third floor of what looked to be a six floor spiral staircase. At the very top was a wild warped elf, holding onto the bell rope and pulling with mad violence.

Beneath the platform, at the base of the stairs, was a hallway connecting the middle chamber to the entrance and third room. I could see a veritable sea of witch elves, staggering and fighting through each other as they tried to get to the last area I had been seen.

I dashed up the stairs as fast as I could, leaping up one flight just because I could reach it, scrambling towards the bell.

As I drew closer, the bell tolling grew more painful and I could feel surges of mystical energy wash over me. Something wasn’t right.

“Fuck, we’re breaking apart,” Hix warned as the bell chimed again, causing me to stagger backwards. A warped elf came crashing down the stairwell in front of me, this one nearly twelve feet tall with a huge flaming sword in hands.

The bell seemed to empower the sword with even greater fire and the colossal elf stormed towards me, ready to kill.

I activated my Precognition Slip ability, a useful power that gave me a few seconds of future insight during the battle. I could see multiple pathways of the enemy’s attack, each one ending me with ease. The best way to handle this was to retreat. The bell’s tolling was too strong.

With the ability to dodge all attacks, seeing a few seconds into the future, I decided to push into the third room, to see what lay within. The chiming of the bell grew less painful the further I went. I just hope whatever was on the other side would be easier to take down while I figured what to do…

Chapter 12

The third part of the temple appeared to be a ritual room of some sort. The walls were circular and there were many statues of Estas founders, some bearing ritual weapons and others bearing banners with symbols of different principles.

There were no gods depicted here. All of these individuals had once been living witch elves. The statues in question were not to venerate or praise any spiritual being, but rather to remind all of the history that these people had been present to. Many instructions were cut into the stone, quotes and explanations, provided to those who would seek out this place in need of help.

In the middle of the room was a long bridge, impossible to access except by leaping. A deep pit was beneath the bridge, filled to the brim with screaming and agitated witch elves. There had to be thousands.

Suspended over the edge of the bridge, dangling helplessly above the teeming masses of enraged, mindless creatures, was a witch elf in a silver cage. She was tall and wore red vestments, emblazoned with symbols of many arcane signs.

Curious about this woman, I scuttered upside down, my claws easily digging into the stone bridge as I moved. The monsters below were more interested in her than me, and so I was safe for the time being.

“Aren’t you a curious looking spider?” the witch elf woman said as she turned to face me. Her face was long and pale, with patches of blue and purple around her cheeks. It looked as if the curse was present within her but unable to take control. Interesting.

“And aren’t you a strange warped elf?” I asked, placing a claw on the golden lock. “Are you trapped? Or is this for your own safety?”

“Strike as you wish or cast any spell, the lock shall not op—” she said as I jabbed a bladefire claw into the keyhole, ripping the mechanism to pieces. My magical aura dispersed as I overpowered whatever magic was preventing it from breaking.

The door swung open and the elf looked at me in amazement. “You are not from this place, are you?”

“No,” I said. “And my patience is limited. Earn your freedom.”

“My sister lays trapped within this place,” the woman said, pointing downward. “She has become a monster like the rest. If you slay her, along with the rest of these poor souls, I’ll be able to descend and find the spear. Surely, there are other treasures along with it.”

“Spear?” I asked. “I’m searching for a Staff of Erudition.”

“Aha! Then our goals are equal,” the elf said, pointing down into the pit. “The only way to reach it is down. And that would require you to cut your way through them all.”

“There is another way,” I said, looking up and pointing to the way I had come from. “One of the warped elves is ringing a bell endlessly, stirring all these creatures. I cannot get close because the ringing’s magic is too powerful. What about you?”

“I am too weak to do anything,” the woman said. “The curse has taken most of my power. Hence why I have been locked in this place.”

“Who locked you here?” I asked, looking down at the few hundred warped elves. They were of all shapes and sizes but one thing was for certain; I wouldn’t be able to take them all down myself. I wouldn’t be able to get a fourth before I was destroyed. I needed more firepower. I needed some better spells…hmmm.

“The Estas Keeper Yorick,” she said. “He believed me to be guilty of theft and trapped me in this damned cage. But the joke is on him, for I was far safer in here than out.”

“So you can do nothing?” I asked, weighing simply dispatching her and taking the spear for my own. Something held me back though. Orlin maybe?

“Not nothing,” the warped elf said, producing a small silver key. “You might be able to break this lock open but I have my doubts about the Vault. I’ll give it to you if you manage to clear what’s below.” She paused and realized how the words came out. “Er, I mean that it’s only valuable after the area is clear. The vault has a timer to open.”

“So you have no power to offer, just a key,” I mused. “Aren’t you pathetic.”

“Maybe, but at least I didn’t fuck up badly enough to end up a damned corpse,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Dear, I can assure you that this existence is a picnic compared to mortality,” I said, spreading my own arms wide to show I took no offense. What was I doing? I had a potential recruit in my clutches, I shouldn’t be callously dispatching those I met, I should be proselytizing. Each witch elf convert would be like 1,000 human followers.

“Is that so?” she asked.

“I can assure you that undeath isn’t nearly as bad as dying without having lived to the fullest,” I replied. “Now, I would be glad to assist you. If perhaps you would be willing to consider a change in masters?”

“I serve no master,” she said.

“You keep the faith?”

“Of course.”

“It was not the faith that has saved you, it was me,” I said. “So perhaps you should believe in my power instead.”

The Everstrong elf looked at me curiously. “If you can deliver me from this place in one piece, save my sister and retrieve the spear, I would be willing to do more than believe. I would know of your power. And that, my friend, is what our faith is built on. Knowledge. Deliver, dear sir, and I will tell everyone of your abilities.”

I glanced at the pit below. “What are you doing?” Hix muttered. “You can’t seriously be considering fighting all of them.”

“The rapier gives me faster speed, I just need to learn to keep on my toes,” I replied, releasing all four claws from the bridge.

I dropped downwards, thrusting the Amber Blade straight into the skull of one of the elves. The explosive ability triggered instantly and the creature fell backwards, flames and explosions covering it. I slashed with my left claw and fought with the sword in my right, indiscriminately stabbing and cutting.

It was hard fighting with a weapon and my claws but the extra speed from the rapier gave me time to adapt. I learned how to feint with a blade and finish with the claw, or block with the claw and pierce with the blade.

My opponents were lumbering and wild monsters, prone to slash each other while swiping their massive claws at me. Only a few were armed and they were more of a danger to each other than to me, for I could parry and disarm with ease.

I don’t know how much time passed as I fought through the horde of warped elves. I was getting faster at dispatching them. Dodge, spin, pierce and explosion. The combat became almost rhythmic as I learned how to match the exact speed of my foes. More were pouring from the holes in the well, the sound of my violence drawing them forward.

But I never tired. This body was unable to exhaust itself for it was composed entirely of will. A will that had surpassed death and crawled from the grave. Fighting for a few hours was nothing compared to that. And so I fought for what felt like forever, bodies of my foes piling higher and higher.

Eventually the ringing grew weaker and weaker until finally, it ceased. I stood, covered in black blood and guts, having slashed my way through a veritable army of monsters. “Tell me,” I asked as I shouted up at the woman watching from the cage. “Has your faith ever done this before?”

Chapter 13

The fighting was far from over. Despite the fact that I had slaughtered hundreds, there was still one left to face. The bellkeeper.

Much to my surprise, he had ripped the bell from its resting place and was now dragging it by the chord, wielding it like a rope and hammer. The monstrous man was standing at the top of the bridge, staring down at me, blankly.

“The bells must never stop,” he said, spinning the bell around his head. “They must never stop!”

And with that, he leapt from the top of the bridge, down twenty feet to meet me. I paid careful attention, not to the big man’s movements but to the massive bludgeon coming my way. I leapt to the side, just in time to avoid the large silver bell striking the ground.

A wave of energy pulsed from the bell, sending pain through my entire system as I was thrown into the wall. The pit was completely closed over, it was sixty feet wide. Plenty of room for him to swing the bell more.

I scrambled to my feet and began to charge towards the warped elf, but he was spinning the bell once more, swinging it towards me with full force. I was fended off, the blow faster than I could anticipate, even with my weapon speed.

“Damn,” I hissed as I crashed into yet another wall, the resonance of the bell disrupting my entire body.

A follow up blow came faster than I could react and I was crushed to pieces, my entire body becoming smashed in the process. I could hear everything inside of me crack and in an instant, all control I had was gone.

I slid to the ground, unable to move. A flash of light wrapped around my body and, suddenly, the monster stopped in its tracks. It merely stared upwards, at the figure intervening.

“Easy there, buddy!” Orlin shouted as he raised a shaking staff towards us. “Come on, focus on the swirling energy.”

The warped elf complied with these demands and grew fascinated with Orlin’s sphere of energy, a ball of white light that bobbed in a circle.

“Get up you bastard,” Orlin hissed. “You got ten seconds!”

“I think you just lost the bet,” I weakly said as I forced myself to stand.

“Holy shit, that was close,” Hix said.

I staggered forward, hopping on the one good foot. My systems were severely damaged from the bell, but I was able to focus enough to force some negative energy into my legs and feet. Stumbling to my knees, I gently cut the rope attached to the bell. The distracted witch elf paid no mind to this and continued to follow after the glowing ball, the rope going slack.

“Stay of execution,” Orlin said as he continued his illusion spells. “You better heal up.”

I raised a shaky hand and cast Wither upon the wandering Warped Elf. The draining effects of the magic caught him by surprise and he tried to fight back but it was no good. My withering magic drained his life force, transferring a large portion of healing back to me.

“Interesting,” I said as I watched the elf fall to the ground, warping and writhing as it died. “They seem susceptible to draining magic.”

“Is it finally safe?” the woman in the cage asked.

“Who said that?” Orlin shouted, looking around. He was atop the bridge from a bad angle and couldn’t see below him.

“A friend,” I said, nodding to her.

With the witch elves all dead, Orlin and Vespana joined me at the bottom of the floor. The wizard had been the perfect gentleman and had created a bridge of light for Vespana to escape from her cage.

The woman examined the bodies curiously. “Something’s not right.”

“I noticed,” I said, looking at my own blade. “No discordance from any of them. No spirits emerging to ask for help either.”

“Someone must have already taken their power,” Orlin mused.

“You have something you want to share?” I asked as Vespana found one particular corpse and examined it.

“Damn it all, my sister appears to be gone. This was just a husk,” the woman said. She looked up at me, gritting her teeth. “Did you steal her soul?”

“Nonsense, I gained no power from this battle,” I said. “A miserable affair, if you ask me.”

“It’s possible that someone beat us to the punch and took their spirits for their own weapon,” Orlin suggested. “After all, this was a repository.”

“But how were shells left behind?” I asked.

“Dividing a spirit straight from a witch elf’s body?” Vespana gasped in horror. “That would be the most diabolical thing you could do. The body must die so the spirit is at ease, at least.”

“Then we must have liberated a great many from pain,” I said. “And yet, we are none the better off for it.”

“The person who harvested these spirits may be trying to help,” Orlin added. “Let us not be too hasty in figuring this out.”

I shrugged it off and turned my attention to Vespana. “Either way, you are rescued. Put that key to use, yes?”

“Of course,” she said, walking up to an innocuous wall. She pushed the silver key into a crack and then twisted. A secret door opened wide up, revealing a series of statues carrying weapons. They were similar to the people above except the weapons were real.

There was a Staff, a Spear and a few other missing weapons.

“Aha!” Orlin said as he rushed up to the staff of Erudition. An elderly elf statue was holding the item, a brilliant white piece of oak carved to have the shape of a brain at the top of it. The strange bumps formed little grips for him to hold and he used it as a walking stick of sorts. “Perfection.”

“Yes, finally,” Vespana said and she rushed to grab the spear. She pulled the weapon free and at once, fire began to burn from the tip. “I’ve been looking for this forever. Now I can get out of this dump.”

“What value is this spear to you?” I inquired. If it were another ancient weapon, it might have value to the Cult of the Veil.

“One of our weeping prophets gave me a mission,” she explained. “That finding the spear would open the door to saving this city.”

“Interesting,” I replied. “For my presence and purpose is to restore the Light to its rightful place.” This was no lie. The contract involved more than just slaying the Bishop. I had to cut out the heart and restore the Light.

“You jest,” Vespana said, scowling at me. “You are a hideous monster. No doubt you are here to plunder.”

“He is speaking truthfully, ma’am,” Orlin interjected. “I know he might seem a strange savior, but he is contracted to do right by your city.”

“Then why are you navigating our treasuries?”

“I needed the weapon to keep up,” Orlin said. He bowed before the tall witch elf. “If you are indeed a servant of the Faith, then you must know things have gone truly askew. You must embrace unorthodoxy if you are to save that which is tradition.”

“I embrace nothing beyond my faith,” Vespana spat back. She flourished the spear and thrust in the air a few times, the blade sparkling brilliant purple energies as she struck. “Faith and my own abilities. Everything else has gone to hell.”

“Pray tell, you can aid the city greatly if you were to tell me where I could find how to contain the Witch Light,” I asked, still eying the spear. How powerful was such a weapon?

“Envy will get you everywhere,” Hix whispered. “You can fuse your weapons together, undoubtedly doubling your power. Slay her and take it.”

“I’m afraid I have no interest in helping anyone any longer, I have done my duty and now, I take my prize and leave this city before things get worse. As if such a thing were possible.”

I glanced at Orlin. “This woman serves us no purpose if she won’t cooperate. What shall you do about it?”

Orlin gritted his teeth. “My companion is a rather insistent fellow, it would behoove you to work along with us. Otherwise, I can’t be liable for the trouble he’ll cause.”

The Everstrong elf laughed at this. She spun the spear once more, flourishing as she aimed the tip of the weapon straight towards me. The point was made out of onyx and looked supernaturally sharp. “I am not one to be bullied. My mind has been made, try to slay me if you wish, but you will certainly fail.”

There was a lot of confidence in her words. Hix was pressing for me to attack but Orlin didn’t seem excited about the prospect. Tension rose in the air as Vespana began to realize there was a possibility of an attack. She took a few steps back and leaned back in a defensive posture.

“Come now, let us depart as friends. I can tell you where you can find what you seek,” she said, laughing a little nervously. It seemed that her faith in herself waved ever so much. “There is a basement within the main citadel, the Everlasting Spire. A dungeon was built to house a few ancient church vessels, including something that was said to contain witch light. What you seek will almost certainly be there.”

“Thank you for your generosity,” I said, still eying the spear. I couldn’t push any further. Orlin wouldn’t be happy with my decision and I couldn’t risk losing the wizard’s favor, especially now that he had access to a staff of power. “Go with whatever gods you serve.”

“The Faith has no gods, just principles,” Vespana replied as she quickly left the area, clutching the spear tightly. Part of her seemed to know how badly I wanted it – and I think a small part was willing to fight just as hard to keep it.

Chapter 14

We walked the lone bridge across the great chasm. The vertical architecture of the Silver Salt City was staggering. Once we made it up and to the first nexus point, where six different trails ascended and descended, I realized just how little ground was beneath us.

“This is a marvel of construction,” I said, gesturing to the distance of the ground. “We continue to ascend and yet there are always new pathways to take.”

“Vertical engineering is a marvelous feat. I theorize it’s because the witch elves never die, so they must perpetually use the space they have for new projects. There’s never a shortage of air, so why not build upwards?” Orlin responded as he walked with his new staff in hand. He seemed more confident than before, eager to show his powers.

“How much stronger are you now?” I asked as we approached the entrance to the great citadel itself. The Everlasting Spire. This was the home to ancient witch elves who had founded the faith. Were they still sleeping? Or had the transformation awaken them, tormenting and warping them into even greater monsters?

“The Staff provides modifiers to my basic casting abilities,” he said. “I can cast multiple spells in a single volley now, or I could store six spells in the tip of the staff and then unleash them all at once. There’s a lot more here but it requires energy. A power source that I don’t quite have access to, other than my own mana.”

“Yes, we’ll need more spirits. Perhaps it would behoove us to figure out what happened to all of the energy from those hordes I had slain,” I mused. “They certainly must be trapped in a single area, yes? If we could find and liberate them, our weapons should become powered greatly.”

“Perhaps the Ettercap merchant can guide us,” Orlin said.

“He was little help in locating that crown of yours,” I replied. “No, let us continue our path into the grand citadel. There are undoubtedly going to be sources of power within who aren’t missing their spirits.”

A thick shield of energy, like molasses, wrapped around me as I walked up to the great hexagon shaped door. Orlin’s magic felt stronger now and I could see my resistances boost significantly with each passing moment. Getting him the staff had been the right move…though I do regret leaving the spear in the hands of that woman. Ah well, one cannot have everything…at the same time anyway.

I pushed my hand on the door and shoved with all my might, causing the great door to swing open, revealing a most hideous sight.

A huge, bulbous wormlike man was wedged in between a smaller set of doors leading into the inner sanctum of the citadel. He was a warped elf for sure, though his face was unaffected. The rest of his worm-body was shoved in the hallway, his upper half the only thing that could fit through the door.

He was a bloated bastard with dark grey skin and wild white hair, though with eyes of the coolest and calmest blue.

“Finally! Someone comes through these doors!” the horrid monster said, laughing so hard that the entire building around us began to shake.

“I believe you can handle this one on your own,” Orlin said, quickly stepping backwards in disgust. The monstrous man offended all senses, including scent as the stench of rotted eggs filled the air. I’d wretch if I had a stomach.

“Are you a threat to me?” I asked as I approached the slugman.

“Nonsense,” he chortled. “As you can see, I’m not a threat to anyone. I’m just a large man trapped in an unfortunate situation.”

He seemed salient but his eyes were dark and wild. There was a madness in them, one I could only see in the creatures of the undead variety. All others had wit or intelligence to guide them. But he? He wasn’t harmless in the least.

I stayed inside the foyer of the entrance, just out of reach of the creature. He waited for a moment but after it was clear I was coming no closer, he scowled. “Damn it all, just come to me!” he screamed as he writhed and wriggled to get towards us but nothing could help him. He was good and stuck.

“I’ll vaporize him,” Orlin said, pulling out a scroll.

“Wait, I think he’s undead,” I said. “Not just a warped elf.”

I had the power to compel the dead with my necromancer lord abilities. The thought wouldn’t have crossed my mind when I was dealing with the regular warped elves but this man? There was an undead light within his eyes, I bet I could get control of it.

“Hear me and obey! I am Velking Demoneyed, lord of the dead!” I demanded.

The monster’s face dropped at once as he ceased writhing. His eyes grew silver as saucers and they stared right at me. I could sense the personality within fighting. It was trying to avoid the undead subsummation that occurred when control was asserted.

Personality was always wiped by these things – unless a spirit was within the body and wanted to keep its own saliency. Even then, it was a rare thing to see a controlled undead retain any sense of personality.

There was a struggle and then finally, I gained 500 Discordance as my control asserted over the beast.

The body became limp at once. All functions ceased in the worm monster as his mouth opened up and a long skeletal creature began to force its way out. A corrupt spine, as these creatures were known, inhabited the spinal column of the dead and animated them, resulting in a fairly operational being. I suppose the warped elf curse had made it harder for the creature to control his host.

The corrupt spine broke out of the warped elf’s body, causing the rest of the corpse to explode in a mess of guts and blood. Orlin watched and cackled with glee.

“I haven’t seen a body explode in forever! Takes me back to my early days of being a mage,” he said. “Back when I adventured for coin.”

The corrupt spine was like a skeleton except much longer and more flexible, unable to stand upright. It crawled on all fours, looking for a support network to fuse itself to.

“Inhabit me,” I said, pointing to my mouth. “And minimize the change to my body.”

The undead monster immediately obeyed, fusing itself with me in a rather awful process. But I felt nothing other than the usual pain an undead creature felt. On the contrary, I could feel my skin thicken, my defenses grow stronger and my magical connection improve. This was not a parasite but a symbiont – it gave as much as it took.

Undead Body Reinforced! You can now Regenerate Limbs! appeared in my vision as I stretched my hands out. The spine was burrowing deep within this body, attaching everything back together, like a central nervous system. I hadn’t realized merging would be so useful – or maybe I had on some instinctual level. Either way, the passageway was now clear and I had a much stronger servant in my possession.

“What just happened?” Orlin asked as we continued down the hallway. Hundreds of portraits lined the walls, showing off various priests and priestesses from different lineages. There were never any end dates to the portraits.

“I found a symbiont and moved it,” I said. “He’ll feed off my natural negative energies and I’ll gain some useful abilities.”

“And you trust it?”

“I have dominated such a thing, trust wasn’t an option,” I said. “I control the dead with my power for I am a necromancer lord in addition to a mere revenant.”

“You didn’t strike me as the book study type,” Orlin chuckled.

“I prefer my spells served to me on a platter,” I admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m lacking in spellpower.”

“I’ll keep that noted going forward,” Orlin said. “Just next time, let me know before you have a spine jump straight into your mouth while I’m looking.”

Chapter 15

Comradery was a rare thing for me to enjoy. Most of my followers were silent around me and those who were free to speak to me as an equal knew better than to do so. Orlin served as reminder of what it was like to be around someone who wasn’t cowed by me. He was rightfully cautious sure, but he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. And I liked that.

“Tell me, do you have ambitions?” I asked as we walked down the long flight of stairs, the massive statues of scientists looming above.

“Ambitions? I’m an old wizard, what ambitions could I possibly have?” Orlin asked. “My only ambitions are to be able to actually stand in the morning.”

“Necromancy offers many pathways to defeating old age,” I said.

“Are you recruiting for your little cult?” Orlin chuckled. “Afraid I’m not interested in any kind of power, if that’s what you’re selling.”

“You might want to rethink your position,” I said. “For my cult is beyond little. We grow with each passing week. Our numbers, our devotion, our strengths. The Cult of the Veil offers much to one such as yourself.”

“At the cost of my own soul? I think not,” he said. “I’m not a theist by any means but I know how it works. When you die, some bastard gets revenge on you if you did bad things, so you gotta try and even out the balance. Do as much good as you do bad. And you, friend, are nothing but the bad side.”

“That strikes me as oddly pious for a man who despises and disbelieves in the gods,” I said.

“You gotta hedge your bets on all sides if you wanna survive in this universe,” Orlin explained. “I’m not devout but I’ll be damned if I die before at least saying a few prayers. Gotta slip into the good realms right before the end. And the only way you can score that is if you don’t have a hellscape of a conscience on your shoulders.”

“What if I were to tell you that I intend to transcend the gods? To become a god of my very own?” I asked. Orlin stopped to laugh, but realized I was serious. He closed his mouth and frowned.

“You would seek godhood for yourself? Are you truly so egotistical?” he asked.

“Not in the least,” I said. “The reason I seek divinity is purely for the sake of self-defense. As a revenant, my spirit is tangled up in such a way that I could be devoured. If I become a god, I will be able to avoid such a fate.”

Orlin nodded. “The classic problem where godhood is the only solution.”

He was serious in his words. “You believe me?”

“Indeed, I made the conclusion a long time ago, that if anyone wanted to get anything really done, they’d skip politics and become a god,” Orlin said. “But such a path is impossible for a man like me to walk. I’m just too humble.”

“Ah, yes, that’s the problem,” I agreed with a slight laugh. “Godhood is within my reach. This I believe. If you join us, you will be able to transcend morality. You will be able to serve a god in any way you wish. And I ask nothing of my followers. It would be the closest to cosmic freedom you could ever possibly want.”

Orlin was silent as he pondered this. We reached the bottom of the stairs, leading to the basement. This was where the vessels were supposed to be stored. Through a short dungeon.

“I don’t think I can bear the crimes you intend to do on my conscience and joining you means I am complicit in them,” Orlin finally said. “I am no murderer. You are. No offense or anything, but I just don’t think hitching myself to your wagon is the best idea.”

“Fair enough,” I said. The man waited a beat but relaxed when I did nothing. “Consider the offer open, friend. Anytime you want to gain true power, you just ask. Who knows? Maybe you could have what it takes to become a god too. Then we’d stand as equals.”

“You’d share godhood?” Orlin asked, following me to the front of a great pair of doors that were sealed shut.

“I wouldn’t give up anything that I had, but if I could replicate the power in others, I don’t see why I wouldn’t elevate a few of us. That would be interesting,” I said. “Though, to be fair I’m just postulating this here. I may change my mind after I ascend.”

A large circular door, shaped like that of an anatomical heart, waited for us in the center of this sub chamber. Approaching the door caused it to slide open, revealing a swirl of red energy. A portal taking me somewhere else entirely.

“What are the chances this is actually a portal?” I asked, gesturing to it. “And not just some murder trap?”

“I can sense the connection magic,” Orlin said. “There is indeed a pathway on the other side. But it cuts off. It’s a one way entrance. Once you’re in, that’s it. You’ll have to find your way out some other way.”

“You aren’t coming with me?” I asked.

“That portal is guaranteed to separate us and I’d rather wait for you out here, if you don’t mind,” the wizard said. “I’m not one for solo rooms and such.”

“More fun for me,” I replied, approaching the heart-shaped portal. The wind picked up as I drew near, despite the fact that I was indoors. Foul magics were radiating from the heart, this was not a good portal. It was a profane thing, warped and ready to scatter anyone who entered. I just hoped that it would keep my body together.

I leapt through the swirling red mist and was instantly pulled through space and time. At once, I was thrown on the other side of a room, though the ground flipped upside down to meet me. It was a strange experience but not dissimilar to death.

The ground was made of purple swirling energy, a black border of air with a vast nebula beneath it. A vortex of magical power surged upwards, a storm of sorts, forever powering this subplane. Interesting. I was no longer in the material plane. The rules may be different here.

Gravity did not care to hold me as I floated upwards. There was something in the room with me, a dim presence. But before I could call out for it, a voice said my name, clear and crisp. “Lord Velking grace us with your presence for a judgment,” Anna the Fallen Star said, summoning me. “Let your punishment be swift and final.”

Chapter 16

The curiosity of the portal dimension would have to be handled later. Ana had summoned me – she was the only person with the true right to do so – and as such, I would need to make an appearance. I answered the summon quickly, moving through the expanses of time and space to reach the Bleak Pyramid.

A judgment tribunal had already been set up before my throne; two prisoners were in steel wells opposite of each other. They were chained to the wells, hands held up high so they could be humiliated for whatever crimes they had done.

Anna was walking in between the two men, standing tall and firm. She wore the heavy burlap robes of a High Priestess and carried a candleholder in hand. Two black candles were on the stick, half melted already. A judgment timer, if I wasn’t mistaken. The trial had until the candles both went out. A sign that this was a circuitous judgment.

A hundred or so witnesses had gathered at the base of the throne to watch. They dared not approach the ramp, of course, opting to simply stay down – craning their necks to see.

I appeared upon my throne, the summoning circle beneath releasing my energies. “What is the purpose of this disturbance?” I demanded.

“I apologize, my Lord,” Anna said as she knelt before me. The entire crowd followed suit. As they moved, I noticed something sifting through the air. A challenging energy that was slightly displacing the dead, dull energies around. Was this worship? “But this is a situation that requires your absolute judgment. I would not have called you forth if it were not so.”

Being summoned meant my body was displaced. I wasn’t gone from the dungeon I had been exploring but I also wasn’t floating helplessly. Rather, I was out of space and time, in such a way that this entire experience would only take a few seconds. Once the spell was over, I’d be snapped back to my adventure in the blink of an eye, only a few moments having passed in actuality.

This is all to say that I had time to make a judgment. This was part of my duties as the god-king of the Vellings. “My time is precious, your lives are not,” I said, sitting up. “Speak in a way that will convince me otherwise.”

Anna gestured to the man on the left. He was within the metal well, arms tied tightly to the fixture so that he couldn’t move. I noticed that his index finger had been cut clean off. “This is Fenjack. He is the apprentice to Master Fineman,” she gestured to the man opposite of Fenjack. Fineman was also tied to a well but his bindings were a little loose and he could move around more. “Or should I say was the apprentice of Fineman. Until he attempted to destroy Fineman’s office with an explosive spell.

“We have strict laws. This should have been the end of it,” the woman continued. “But his defense, which has passed all lie detecting spells as true, is that Fineman wants to supplant you and take over the Pyramid on his own. There is no evidence of this beyond Fenjack’s testimony.”

“I swear on the dark lord that I serve!” Fenjack shouted as he wriggled in place. “The man has dark designs for us! Lord Velking, hear my prayer! Know that I am a man of faith! I would not turn against you!”

Sweat poured down Fenjack’s face and I could see the fervor of true belief in his eyes. “Woah,” Hix said. “You don’t see that kind of dedication these days.”

I glanced over at Master Fineman. The older sorcerer was calm and collected but his eyes weren’t looking anywhere close to me. He was hoping I would not call upon him. “Calm yourself,” I said to Fenjack. “This is not a trial of piety but of something else entirely. You, Fineman. Speak your case.”

“If a man should have to speak to prove himself innocent, then it is a poor situation indeed,” Fineman said. “I have done nothing and am the victim of a great crime. My office was annihilated and my favorite skeleton decimated.”

Arrogance. But not displaced. I could not expect a man to go through such an ordeal and not carry a chip on his shoulder.

What was this judgment? Why would Anna bring me into it? Was she truly stumped or was she hoping to make an example out of Fenjack? It was hard to tell without a sidebar. But the paladin-turned priestess did not approach my throne.  She merely walked between the two and listened to them speak.

“Fenjack,” I said. “You are a pious man. Tell me, why would Fineman seek to turn against me?”

“The man worships a love deity in secret, he harbors a message that he spreads throughout our ranks,” Fenjack said.

“You have no evidence of such a thing,” Fineman shouted. He glanced at me and glared. “Surely, you have heard enough, yes?”

“Hix, what love gods would allow mingling with evil followers?” I asked.

“Let me check my records,” the demon dryly replied. “Stagheart the Grateful is the only one I can think of. He believes in spreading his message through nonviolent connection, usually sex but sometimes just hugging or soft contact. He’s a good deity though, so his influence would be toxic here.”

“I suppose there’s one way to find out,” I said internally before turning my attention to the men in question. “Fenjack, you are zealous. You acted without permission of your superiors and that alone is cause for punishment. Fineman, you did not live in such a way that would clear you from all suspicion of following other gods. You both have fallen short in my eyes and as such, both will be punished.”

Fenjack accepted this judgment with sorrow, his head hanging low. But Fineman erupted in rage. “How dare you! You do not have the right to pass such a judgment upon me! I call upon Stagheart to protect me!”

I laughed at that but the sorcerer used his hand to grab at his left sleeve, tearing open a hole wide enough to reveal a tattoo. It was a symbol of an antler bursting from a heart. Green light flashed from the symbol but before he could do anything else, Anna lanced him through the skull with a ritual dagger.

Fineman jerked as he fell stiff, the blade burying itself through his right eye. He slumped over, unable to move.

“Damn it,” Anna said as she watched the blood pour from his head. “Show’s over, people. The judgment has been passed. Fenjack will be punished later.”

“See!” Fenjack said. “I told you, I would never betray my lord Velking.”

“Your loyalty is indeed seen,” I said, watching as a few workers came out to clean up the body. “Consider your punishment met. Free him and let him go on his way.”

A few servants did as I ordered, cutting the ropes around Fenjack’s wrists. He rubbed them and bowed to me. “Lord Velking, I swear I shall never falter! I will follow you in this life and the next. That I swear!”

I gestured for him to leave, unimpressed by his oaths and promises. These people were only faithful for what I could bring to them. No doubt he had many things he wanted from me, powers and favors, and his fealty was just a means to get them. That was all piety was in the end, just sucking up to the most powerful man in the room, all in the hopes of getting a treat. It was sickening, really.

Anna was a different kind of pious. She did not serve because it would better her own life directly but because she believed in something greater than herself. Even when her faith in goodness had failed, she still sought out a higher purpose. And serving as my High Priestess was certainly a fulfilling purpose.

“Tell me,” I asked as Anna approached, the rest of the room hurriedly leaving. “Why did you summon me for something so trivial?”

“I wanted you to see it with your own eyes, so the reports would be believable,” Anna replied as she bowed once more to me. “We’re being infiltrated by a counter-cult. The Staghearts are here.”

“A counter-cult?”

“Worship is worship. Some smaller gods like to sneak into larger religions and slowly siphon away the clergy. There are some clever ways to hide worship and some gods even wish to steal it. But Stagheart is a good god, so I doubt he’s here to steal.”

“No, he’s here to wipe us out,” I mused. “Why a love god though?”

Anna stiffened at that question. “We are more permissible went it comes to sex and freedom…a lot of people have joined us because there’s safety with us. They aren’t looking to serve a monster but at the same time, if they’re protected, they’ll pay lip service to you and that’s enough.”

“Low recruitment standards have brought in parasites, is what you mean,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t care for this. I’m off on business and the first thing I hear is that we’ve been infiltrated? Anna, what are you doing?”

“I’m running the organization you built,” she sharply replied. “Don’t lay this one on me. I noticed the cult’s presence only after you left, meaning they were waiting for some time.”

“Excise it, ruthlessly,” I said.

“I’ve already tried as best I could,” she said. “But that’s the thing about a counter-cult, they’re hidden. It’s going to take some time to root it out. I must admit, sir, I’m a bit worried.”

I could see the fear on her face. It was a strange thing to see. “What is your concern?”

“Stagheart is a minor deity but he’s still incredibly powerful compared to you,” she said. “Tolerating his infiltration will allow you to learn more about his power. And it will give you time to bridge the gap between your comparable strengths.”

“You mean he’ll kick my ass if it’s all-out war?”

“Indeed,” she said, looking away. “I’m sorry, sir, but he is a god. You are not. Not yet. I hoped that this trial would show you unwavering in your loyalty to the people. I knew for a fact you would not have Fenjack harmed. This shows we aren’t just some regular cult who disposes of its own.”

“So this was just propaganda?”

“In many ways,” Anna said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Before you release me back,” I replied, putting a hand up. “Can I pick your brain about something?”

“Of course,” the woman said, sitting on the ground beside me. “What is it you wish to know?”

“There is a wizard who I have begun to build a friendship with and his powers are top notch,” I explained. “I would be pleased to have him on our side for good but he balks at joining me because of what I am. What do you think would be the right way to tempt him?”

“Tempt him? Am I demon now?” Anna asked, shaking her head. “He sounds like a man of principle. If that’s the case, you aren’t going to sway him easily. But, why bother with swaying at all? Just buy the man. Everyone has a price, do they not? Find out what he really wants and offer it to him. After all, it’s within your power, is it not?”

Wise words. “What do you recommend I do about this cult within my cult?” I asked.

“Finish up your business and be ready to move quickly when you return, I’ll have some plans by then,” she said. “Until then, I wish you the best of luck. You said your trip would bring you great power and I hope so – otherwise you might not be able to keep this pyramid for yourself.”

Chapter 17

You have imposed Order! 1,000 Equilibrium Earned appeared in my vision as I teleported right back to the dungeon in the Silver Salt City. Time had only shifted for a few seconds and things were back the way they were.

Equilibrium was the name of the additional energy I gained by consolidating my realm. There was no discordance to be had in crushing those who served me but by pushing out chaotic energies, I could make my realm more lawful. More orderly.

Yes, order was the name of the game. It was clean and structured, able to achieve great things in the world. Many people believed they were good people, but the truth was they were just ordered. They liked things being done in an orderly fashion. And as long as things were ordered and calm, they would be willing to accept just about any evil inflicted upon them.

The surging energy of Equilibrium converted itself to discordance and quickly channeled into my Amber Blade. I could always stand for an upgrade…

Amber Blade has gained 1,000 Discordance! You have gained 1 Upgrade.

Path of the Fencer Branch Two

Riposte of the Damned: Striking an opponent in the middle of an attack causes them to abandon their move.

Precision Flick: Bypass all defenses to land a single blow.

Spiraling Leap: Gain a 25 foot leap.

Frenzied Footwork: Increase your movement speed by 14%.

These were much stronger than their first level counterparts. Spiraling Leap had no activation effect or cost, I could use it as much as I liked. Contrast that to my ghoul legs that only worked for a few minutes per day….yes, I could use the higher mobility. I’d be a goddamn grasshopper on the field with the ability to leap so far at command…

I selected the upgrade and watched as the blade flickered and shifted a little. The weapon felt lighter and so did the ground beneath my feet. A menu appeared, showing off the Amber Blade’s evolutions so far.

Amber Blade

Level: 1

Discordance: 250

Paths: Path of the Fencer

Lightning Speed: When wielding the Fencing Blade, your movement speed increases by 45%.

Disarming Strike: Allows you to effortlessly disarm opponents.

Spell Striker: You may strike magical attacks with your weapon to disperse them.

Spiraling Leap: Gain a 25 foot leap.

Weapon Transmutations:

Quicksilver Composition: Your weapon becomes infused with Quicksilver, dealing extra damage to all witch elves.

Bladefire Adaption: Your strike abilities can be used with your weapon.

Piercer: All piercing strikes cause explosive damage.

“Simply marvelous,” I said, holding up my sword and examining it. There was so much magic within this thing. It made me wonder what other types of artifacts could be spread out in this place. Better armor, perhaps? Armor that could be bound with energy as well? I suppose the only way to find out was to continue searching.

The dungeon was a bleak, endless abyss of shadow and darkness. The purple floor of the demiplane was omnipresent and it seemed that no matter how many rooms I went through, there were always more. No monsters roamed, no beings searching for a fight. Just endless rooms of darkness.

Eventually I ceased my wandering and turned to face the eternal plane of shadow before me. “Show yourself,” I said. “If you are there.”

“Very good,” the air said as a form began to collect itself together. Thousands of little bits swarmed to fuse into that of a massive warped elf, his body rippling with purple energy. Bright white hair hung from his head, the long windswept strands perpetually wavy. “I did not know if you could sense me.”

As the warped elf grew into his nine-foot tall form, he created a flaming sword from the ground, purple flames wrapped around it.

“You seem sane,” I said.

“My mind is somehow perfectly salient. It’s just the rest of me that is murderous,” the warped elf replied, grinning as his body sprang at me.

The monstrous man was gigantic, with talon-like feet that allowed him to cover incredible ground. He let his sword drag behind him, the long blade flat and wide enough to cut through a cow. The flames gathered as he ran, picking up speed.

I didn’t demur. Sure, the creature was hulking over me but I had my Amber Blade. Both hands on the sword I turned and waited to disarm the foe.

The thundering elf continued his charge, each step gathering more and more momentum until he was finally a blur. I could see nothing other than the flash of purple energy and the moving of a wicked sword. I flicked my wrist to the right.

In an instant, our swords clashed against each other, the hard steel of the giant sword bouncing helplessly against the slender but immovable rapier. As soon as the first blow was blocked, my foe swung again, pulling back and bringing the weapon down in an overhead slash.

I dodged this time, sidestepping to the right and skewering him in the side of the stomach, where I could sense a large pocket of magical energy. The tip of my rapier exploded in fire and sparks, blowing out a chunk of the beast’s body.

“Grahhhh!” the warped elf cried as he thrashed at me with his claws. I dodged once, then a second time, then buried my blade into the other side of his torso – where more energy was concentrated.

The explosion tore through the creature’s entire body and the warped witch elf ripped in half. Flames consumed both sides and he dispersed, leaving me in a now empty basement. The darkness had faded away for good.

500 Discordance Gained! appeared in my vision as a blue orb floated up towards me. I didn’t know the secrets to binding the spirit just yet, but it knew to follow me. I suppose I’d have to stop back at the Ettercap Merchant at some point to gain his services. But for now, I could press on inside the actual dungeon. Hopefully the containment vessel should be here somewhere.

Chapter 18

Should I purchase another upgrade for my blade, or save the discordance to use on my own abilities? It was a difficult choice. But I shouldn’t rush to spend everything I earned, elsewise I might be caught off-guard later on. It was always good to have just a bit of points saved up to weasel your way out of whatever the circumstances may be.

With the darkness now gone, I was free to navigate the basement of the subdungeon. A few monsters were there, but they were trivial compared to my power. If anything ran into me in the dungeon, they would be convinced that I was the final boss.

Of the eight rooms, six of them were archives of some sort. The witch elves used long cords of rope, knotted at several different points, to record significant moments in their history though I did not know how to read them.

The seventh room was sealed tightly. It was a great metal door branded with all manner of holy wards upon them, some of the celestial gods even. The magic was powerful enough to keep me away but my sword was unaffected. Yet another useful reason to have an artifact of a weapon with me: it wasn’t unholy.

Sure, I could channel dark energies if I needed to, but the default order of this weapon was simply Lawful. There was nothing else about it beyond energies that I was already aligned towards. This meant that enemies who used protection from negative energy spells and wards may not be able to fend off this weapon.

I tested my theory out by slashing a few times at the rune wards. My blade had no trouble disrupting them, easily cutting through the magical sigils and thus diffusing the runes. In an instant, I had my very own magical lockpick.

The metal door slid open as I cut the last seal, revealing a large white room full of crystal bottles. Each one of them was no more than the size of my fist, resting upon golden shelves.

The room itself was large enough for me to fit inside, and there were a few hundred bottles lined up. They were all empty.

“Who enters this place?” a voice asked. I looked up to see a face made of stone, sticking out of the ceiling. It was a venerable-looking old thing, one that had perhaps been built into the very fixture itself. That must have been a long, long time ago.

“Do not concern yourself with me,” I said, reaching out to take a vial.

“Are you here to capture the light? Or to wield it as a weapon? For that will determine which vial you take,” the voice replied.

“Both,” I said.

“Then take the vessels with silver caps at the end. One side can consume the light and the other side will release it,” the voice said. “Now tell me your purpose with it, since I have been so forthcoming.”

I took out a satchel and began to load up the silver capped vials. It was a bit awkward doing all of this work on my own – how strange it was to operate without servants. Even Orlin wasn’t here to boss around.

“I owe you no explanation,” I replied as I worked. “But if you must know, the Witch Light was stolen and corrupted. I must steal the light back from a madman and if I am to survive the ordeal, I will need these vessels.”

“It is said that when the living saints begin to die off or change, the buildings would awaken to watch over all things,” the voice said as the walls above began to shake. “I gaze into your heart and I see nothing but evil. You are not right to hold such a light.”

I hurried up and finished snagging the bottles, before turning around and darting out of the room. The door slammed shut as I leapt out, catching my ankles. There was a horrific sound as the hard metal doors tore my feet clean off but the pain was minimal.

In an instant, my new regeneration ability activated and a new pair of feet sprouted out, claws glistening red and ready for violence.

“Is that all you have?” I shouted at the door as I climbed to my new feet. There was no reply. I had captured six bottles total and they were undamaged. They were sturdy things but I should get a belt for them, so they would be safe and secure.

The last door led straight to the portal I had originally emerged from. I could see Orlin standing by on the other side.

“How much time has passed?” I asked once I had stepped through the portal. Orlin stepped backwards in surprise.

“Er, you were gone for less than…a second?” he asked. “Looks like you went right in and out.”

I showed him a vessel. “Can you conjure up a container for this?”

“What do I look like, a wizard?” he chuckled as he waved his hand, creating a belt of gold around my waist. There were eight slots, each enough to hold the light. “There, this is an old container spell I learned a few decades ago. No matter what happens to you, the contents will be safe and only you can pull them out.”

“Excellent,” I said, tapping on the glass. The bottles were quite secure. “Then I believe I have everything necessary to handle our foe. Now we just need to unseal him.”

“It shouldn’t be too hard,” Orlin said. “You just need to eliminate three extremely powerful witch elves who possess magic.”

“Yes, the Costikars,” I said, looking at my sword. “I believe I have the right abilities to help me here. Now we just need to find them.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about that,” Orlin asked, pointing at the portal. “We could go searching around for the targets, alerting them to our presence as we stomp around. Or I could use some of my keen magic to hijack this here portal. It’s already connected to this plane, so all I need to do is just monkey around with a few connection points and then bang! We’ve got ourselves a portal to the enemy.”

“Ambush them?” I said, tilting my head in curiosity. “That sounds like a bit of a pipe dream.”

“It is a pipe dream in a way, for all portals work like pipes. Local portals are usually much easier to fiddle with,” Orlin said as he waved a hand, summoning a large pair of metal prongs. They burned brightly at the edges and he clacked them together. “Say the word and I’ll start rewiring the circuits.”

“If you are willing to test it on yourself first, then go for it,” I said. “Otherwise we’ll go the traditional route.”

“Ahhh, I love a good challenge,” Orlin said, not demurred by my words in the least. He began to press the metal tool into the side of the swirling red energy. Sparks of magic and symbols that seemed to be screaming warnings appeared as he worked, but the man paid no mind to them. Bare handed, he twisted the portals to his will, working with forces beyond my own comprehension – and perhaps his.

“I have never been one to go through the whole dungeon if I can skip right to the treasure room,” Orlin continued. “But everyone hates it when the wizard does that. They always fuss about losing out on experience points but to me, good XP comes from a book at home!”

The portal flickered bright blue, then purple, and then a cadre of colors that appeared to all be fighting each other.

“How long did you adventure for?” I asked.

“Few lifetimes,” he muttered. “More than enough for me to be sick of it.”

He stiffened his arm suddenly as the portal turned completely black. Reaching into his belt, he pulled out a small crystal and stabbed it into the center of the portal, repowering it once more. His arm came out, safe and sound.

“And you come out of retirement to pay off a debt?” I asked. “Truly?”

“Truly,” he said. “My old pal got me out of a jam and I said I owed him. A shame I meant it, hah!”

“You don’t seem to be the type to putter around at home and languish in retirement,” I said. “You are spry and vivacious, full of life and vim. Don’t you want something more?”

The man didn’t say anything at that, he merely listened as he worked. I continued.

“The Cult of the Veil offers you that more. Whatever it may be. Power, ruling, being served, whatever your whim is. And we follow law and order in my realm. No one is evil for the sake of it. Our motives are varied but we are united as a group,” I said.

“Yet you are a monstrous undead creature, obsessed with revenge and tainted in the mind,” he countered. “No offense. I mean you’re just on a path to oblivion, one way or the other. I see little reason to get involved.”

The portal flickered and opened up, revealing a watery glimpse of a chapel courtyard. Standing on one end, up the stairs, was a warped elf, wearing the blue robes of a wizard. He was eleven feet tall, with a long gnarled staff and a book in his right hand.

“Gotcha!” Orlin said, pulling back to look at his handiwork. “We can see it, but it can’t see us.”

“And I can strike from here?” I asked, gazing down.

“You’ll have to find your way back to me, since it’s a one way portal,” Orlin said. “But if we’re smart, we can set it up so you strike from portals each time. I just need more time to figure out the other two Costikars locations.”

“I’d prefer you join me in the fight,” I said.

Orlin shook his head. “I’ll just slow you down. If they have a true seeing spell or some dispellation magics, I’ll be significantly weaker. It’ll be easier for me to just operate here and work on finding the next target.”

I wasn’t confident in fighting this lone Costikar by myself but Orlin had made it clear that he wasn’t interested in joining. A shame I could not convince him otherwise. But I suppose having the element of surprise would be enough to give me the winning advantage. Or so I hoped.

Chapter 19

I dove through the portal right as the Costikar wandered by. His enormous back was turned to me while I slipped through the air, landing on the ground behind him. Sword in hand, I thrust straight into the ribs of the creature, the explosive energy rippling through the witch elf before he had a chance to react.

I retracted my blade and stabbed twice more in the time it took for the witch elf to realize he was under attack. We were in a courtyard he had been guarding, a great outdoor area with a few rotted trees growing in the middle. There were doors on both sides of the courtyard and it appeared one door was sealed shut with a great golden padlock around it.

A key hung from the Costikar’s neck, swinging as the beast stumbled backwards, spinning around in time to block my fourth strike with his enormous book. “Interloper!” he hoarsely croaked as the book blocked my stab, a thin shield of silvery force pushing my weapon away. “You dare come to bother this place of study?”

I said nothing but continued my assault. I slashed with my claws and again with my sword, but I wasn’t nearly as fast as the Costikar. He slammed my entire body with the flat of the giant book, swinging it like a club through the air – one-handed!

We were high up, still somewhere in the Everlasting Spire, and I found myself falling over the edge of the courtyard railing. There was nothing but thousands of feet of air between me and the metal fountain. I plummeted quickly, but thankfully I had a Fly spell to protect me.

The spell activated at once, allowing me to catch myself in the air. I spun around and reoriented so I was pointing my weapon up towards the sky. I couldn’t cast any other spells while Fly was active and if I lost focus, it would deactivate but…it would be interesting to combine this with a weapon.

It had been some time since I had flown but the mechanics were still the same as before. Disembodied wings, incorporeal gusts of force, allowed me to take off and move with some level of thrust. Momentum was difficult to control but hopefully I wouldn’t need to strike more than a few times.

The wind blew beneath me and I was back on the courtyard, sailing silently towards my foe. The speed from my flight was amplified by the blade in hand and I skewered the Costikar in the back of the head. An explosion rippled out, causing the warped elf to cry out in agony.

He spun around to swipe at me with his staff but I flew alongside the ground, zipping to the left and to the right, easily avoiding his attacks. I slashed at his wrists and in an instant, he had dropped his staff – though his book remained firmly in his left hand.

I slashed a few more times, flying high in the air overhead to strike. The monster was unable to draw out his spells for he was forced to use his book as a shield. My assault was endless, claw and sword swung and struck over and over again until finally he broke completely.

“Enough!” he roared as my blade found the center of his torso, striking something important. Another explosion, purple and arcane, surged across the landscape, washing over me in the process. I was thrown back a few feet, the flight spell ending as I lost my concentration.

The warped elf was bleeding heavily now, his right arm transmogrified. The spell book was no longer in his hand, it was his hand, fused to his flesh as he stretched his long arm out like a hammer. The pages opened up, revealing different glyphs and sigils.

Balls of fire burst forth from the book, crashing towards me. I was able to dodge out of the way; thankfully, my feet were much faster than the spheres. I danced through them and made my way to the spellbook.

Leaping in the air, I slashed at the papers, flicking my wrist a dozen times as I mulched the paper to shreds. Black blood burst out of the spellbook as the warped elf swung his free hand at me. I was able to block with a claw, holding the hand up above as the creature stared down at me.

“Release me…” he wheezed. “Set my power free…”

“As you wish,” I said, thrusting my Amber Blade upwards into the monster’s vitals. There was no explosion, no fanfare, just death. The warped elf lost all life and slid down my blade, an inert and useless lump of flesh.

I kicked the corpse off of my blade and cleaned the weapon. Costikar Slain! 1,200 Discordance Gained! appeared in my vision. A new spirit appeared in the air, floating up to me and bobbing as if it were pleased.

The glinting of a golden key caught my eye, causing me to examine the corpse of the warped elf. The monster had access to something interesting, something that it kept away from the rest of the world. What was it, I wondered? In the throes of madness, what could it possibly be seeking to protect?

I took the key off the body and approached the great pair of doors opposite of the fallen guardian. The little golden key floated from my hand as I drew near the lock, clicking itself in and twisting to dispel the chains.

The doors immediately began to open themselves, leading me to draw my sword and raise it up. If something was being sealed away in here, it might be dangerous still…

A massive statue of a woman was within the chamber. She wore battle armor and carried a spear in hand, a great javelin that was in the midst of striking down a massive serpent, made of bronze. Two slender, draconian wings, jutted from her back and the great statue towered over all. She was nearly twenty feet in height.

“Thou has slain my servant,” the statue said, her voice gentle as a whisper and impossibly soft. “And yet you have freed what was within. You carry many vessels inside of your weapon and you intend to carry countless more.”

I approached the statue and bowed. “I mean no harm to this place.”

“I sense as much,” the statue replied. “Yet now I am vulnerable. You have opened the lock that was meant to protect me from the forces of evil. From the devils and the demons that creep and crawl in this place. This frame can suit me no longer. Take my power into your weapon and continue to do as you have.”

“What are you?” I asked.

“I am a Living Saint, a statue crafted to give wisdom and peace to the people in the absence of the real saints, who have all left this realm eons ago,” she explained. “They built this great city to keep the traditions and practices of the Estas faith alive. Our purpose was to continually serve the people in all matters. Then something happened and the light was stolen. Most of those who I served were left mad and monstrous. I was sealed away by the mages for fear of my power being taken by other beings.”

Interesting. I sensed no holy magic around her. “Are you a construct or a miracle?”

“I am an ancient forest spirit indwelling this frame,” she explained. “I was brought into the material realm eons ago, conjured to serve in this form. Life and death are meaningless things to me, but my function on this plane is now at an end. I should bestow one last gift unto the people I was brought to protect.”

“And your blessing of my weapon is that gift?” I asked.

“A new form, a greater knowledge of more power to find,” the Living Saint replied as she closed her fists around the spear in her hand and raised it up. “Thou blade has become enchanted now, take the form of the Stonebreaker Spear and knowledge of the great treasures hidden throughout this place.

As she spoke, rays of light struck my blade and words appeared. The Amber Blade has consumed the Stonebreaker Spear. You may now switch between forms at will! Benefits from one form pass into the next unless otherwise stated.

In addition to the light surrounding my weapon, my eyes became opened as well. I could suddenly see through the great citadels and the buildings surrounding us. The entire Silver Salt City became a series of thin lines, all leading to differing treasures. Some great, some small but all ancient in their design. All powerful in their own right.

“No doubt you salivate at the idea of what these things may bring you,” the Saint said as her statue began to slowly crumble apart. First, chunks of her wings fell off, then so did her weapon and then piece by piece, the rest of her. “And they will serve you well in your life, provided you are able to restore the Light. Leave this place without having done so and all of these items shall cease to function.”

“I’m a consummate professional,” I said to the now rapidly disintegrating statue. “I have been hired for a job. And I intend to see it done.”

“Then seek out the other artifacts,” she warned. “As my last words to thee, I have seen the dark corners of thy path…you must renounce evil before it steals all it can from you.”

With that, the light faded and the pile of rubble before me ceased speaking. I gazed outside, the entire world now at my fingertips. With the Flight spell, I could easily make it to the nearest artifact in less than twenty minutes. Maybe I should make a stop before reporting my success to Orlin.

Chapter 20

The ground thumped behind me as I took in the view. Before I could prepare my next spell, a figure had landed on the ground and was in the midst of striking me. My supernatural senses could inform me of this but unfortunately I wasn’t fast enough to dodge. Claws the size of a horse struck my flesh and sent me flailing into the wall of the grand chamber.

The interior was big enough to house a fight. Above, I could see a massive hole in the roof, something apparently had chewed its way in. Perhaps the reason the Living Saint had been so quick to give her power to me.

Well, best not waste an opportunity to test my new weapon.

I smacked the hard metal wall, everything crunching as the force embedded me. Bones cracked and tendons in my body were pushed apart. For a moment, I was threatened to fall to pieces completely, my negative energy too strained, but sheer determination brought me back. It was like there was someone calm in the midst of the storm, suddenly walking in and taking control.

What was happening? I was on my back, in a wall. Something shadowy was moving ahead but I couldn’t see it very well.

“Hix!” I hissed. “My eyes can’t see whatever it is that’s hurting me.”

“Give me some discordance and I can fix it,” he replied. “About five hundred would do it.”

I agreed to the transfusion of power as my regeneration abilities kicked in. Undead flesh repaired itself and I was able to move once more.

Just in time, I leapt out of the way as the blurry mass of monster smashed into the wall. Metal on monster rang out in a horrid cacophony. I landed on the ground, my eyes shifting enough to see. Infernal Sight Acquired! You may now see Demons and Infernal Beings!

Immediately, I could spot the figure ahead. It was a ravenous, four-armed hellbeast with red skin and muscles like that of a god.  It had no head, rather its stomach was a mouth, jagged and round, forever dripping with what looked to be blood.

“Ah, of course, an interdimensional rambler,” Hix grumbled. The huge beast roared as it climbed up the side of the wall, digging its claws into metal like it was nothing.

“Let’s give this spear a try, shall we?” I said, manifesting the new weapon in my hand. At once, the Amber Blade transformed, warping from a thin rapier to a long, thick spear with a brilliant rainbow tip. Prismatic energy swirled around the weapon and I could feel it begin to accumulate a great deal of magic.

Transmutation Unlocked! Select a Permanent Adaption to your Weapon.

Extra Weapon: Split the Spear into two smaller weapons.

Defending: Weapon knows how to defend you on its own.

Returning: Returns after striking an opponent when thrown.

Seeking:  Spear always strikes its target when thrown

Fast Switch: It takes no time to change between weapon forms.

The options came at me quickly but I grabbed the one that made the most sense when facing a massive foe on the run: Returning. Instantly the spear flashed with energy, a teleportation sequence connecting us. The weapon would always come back, even if I dropped it for a second. And in any form too, not just spear. How useful!

I hurled the spear at the fleeing foe as it scampered up the wall. The beast was feinting – he had been waiting for me to take an offensive action. The moment I threw the weapon, he dropped down, falling past my spear and towards me.

Instantly, the spear was back in my hands. I leapt upwards to meet the falling monster, thrusting the long weapon forward. A rapier was for close, hand-to-hand combat, making the combat range of the spear akin to a missile weapon for me. The prismatic blade met the beast’s flesh before it could reach me.

The explosive quality carried over to my attack, since this weapon always used piercing damage, creating a devastating combo that I hadn’t quite intended. The beast ripped apart from the intensity of the magic attack, half of his body going to the left and the other to the right.

But the beast was undaunted. Both forms shrieked for a moment and grew a pair of prehensile feet that were able to help them land. I thrust a claw out into the side of the citadel wall and clutched on tightly, staring as the monsters below brayed at me.

“Ramblers don’t seem terribly smart,” I said.

“Considering you speared them right in the brain, it’s a minor miracle they’re still moving at all,” Hix said. “But you can’t kill them with stabbing and magic. He’s a demon, remember? You’ll need something holy.”

“Aren’t I being revered as a god? When do I get the power to rebuke lesser evils than me?” I asked.

“Buddy, you’re talking about millions of people praying to you every hour on the hour to get that kind of power,” Hix said. “And by then, you won’t be worrying about some two rate demon while mucking around as someone’s whipping boy.”

“You think I’m mucking around right now?” I asked. “You know so little, Hix. I am simply exploring the world around me. Looking, for the first time, for advantages and strengths outside of myself, so that when I am weakened, I still stand strong.”

“True strength is the power to stand without anything in hand and still be feared,” Hix commented.

“Then it will be a long time before I get true strength,” I said, leaping down and spearing one of the fledgling demon spawn in the head. The acceleration from my descent was enough to cause the creature to explode into an ectoplasmic mess. Demons couldn’t be destroyed, true, but with enough energy they could be scattered and that was close enough.

The other spawn ran at me, its four arms raised up high as it shrieked, but the spear was faster and longer than its reach. I skewered it through, spun in a circle and then tossed it up into the air before letting it fall on the tip – leading to another massive explosion.

“You having fun?” Hix muttered.

“More than ever,” I said. “Far more than if I were still just biding my time in the pyramid.”

Demon defeated! 200 Discordance Gained! appeared in my vision as I walked off, leaving the ruined statue and monster. There was much more to do.

Chapter 21

Power was a fickle thing. You can never have too much but at the same time, you cannot let the pursuit of power consume you. It was a hard thing to balance in the afterlife, where power was often directly correlated to how long one survived.

My goals were radically shifting as I was coming more and more into my own in this strange land. Yes, I had a professional contract to uphold, but these artifacts were the real prize. They required investment of magical energies, making them unique, albeit somewhat less desirable than regular artifacts. And yet, the ability to bond directly with these items was what seemed to make them so powerful.

There was a practice of necromancy involving binding spirits to objects, one I knew quite well. Would it be possible to bind my spirit to these items so that when my corporeal form was destroyed, my mind would still inhabit the vessels? That would be an excellent way to survive after death.

Regrowing a barrow wight had been a simple affair but the loss in power had been too great. It was starting over from scratch. Rebuilding had cost me time and opportunity and I could not bear the thought of dealing with such an inconvenience again. I had to consolidate my power and perhaps even my spirit through these items. And who, I wonder, said that you can’t take it with you?

Knowledge of the city’s layout did wonders for travel times. I was able to make my way back to the Ettercap Merchant, in order for him to bind the spirits I had freed to my weapon. He was more than delighted to do so, in exchange for looking at the newly acquired spear.

The strange creature did not steal anything, he merely fawned over the emotional connections of the weapon before performing his binding rituals. One by one, the spirits floated upwards and merged with my weapon.

Amber Blade has reached Level 2. Upgrades now cost 1,000 Discordance.

A new Ancestral Memory has been unlocked. Select one to gain a new ability.

Scholar’s History: You may cast spells from the tip of your blade.

Soldier’s Memoirs: You gain natural armor when carrying your weapon.

Saint’s Perspective: Your attacks deal holy damage to unholy creatures.

Healer’s Nightmare: Enemies struck by this weapon cannot heal by magical or natural means.

Archivist’s Notes: Gain 2 additional spells per day.

The ever-increasing cost of upgrades. A shame. But I suppose that was the cost of progress. Saint’s Perspective would protect me from demons and other such creatures. A good way to bridge the gap in defense I had against evil creatures.

I selected Saint’s Perspective and then moved on to the new Transmutation I had also unlocked.

You have 1 Transmutation!

Extra Weapon: Split the Spear into two smaller weapons.

Defending: Weapon knows how to defend you on its own.

Seeking:  Spear always strikes its target when thrown.

Fast Switch: It takes no time to change between weapon forms.

Seeking was the perfect complement to the return ability of my spear. Now I could throw perfectly every time and retrieve the weapon without worry. Hell, that was strong enough to change up my fighting styles. A few better spells could do some real damage here…

“Tell me friend, what do you know of magic in this place?” I asked, looking up at the Ettercap who was busy playing with a bracelet, running his many fingers through the golden chains.

“Are you looking to buy spells?” he chuckled. “For I can sell you magic at a fee beyond sentimentality.”

“Discordance?” I asked.

“The universal currency for our kind,” the Ettercap replied. “Would you like to see what I have for sale?”

“No. I need a proper fireball, one that detonates immediately where it strikes and moves quickly,” I said. “Find it for me and I shall pay you what you ask.”

“Oh indeed, indeed,” the Ettercap merchant said, chuckling as he clacked his fingers together. “I know just the place to go. My shop shall be closed for a few days.”

Before I could open my mouth to reply that I had all the time in the world, a bold voice interrupted from across the way.

“Here I find you standing idly by,” the figure said as I turned to face the vigilante warped elf from before.

He was an Everstrong, wielding a rapier not entirely unlike mine. I hadn’t noticed these details about him before, probably because I hadn’t cared, but now I could see he was fighting the curse, same as every other witch elf. Something in his eyes was purple and gaunt, indicating he wasn’t altogether there.

“Weapon at your side! Did I not give you the means to find me? To contact me?” he continued. “You are a coward and a fiend at that for hiding from my challenge.”

“Beware Zendig,” the Ettercap Merchant muttered to me. “All who have stepped against him have been bested by his blade.”

I ignored the demon and rose to meet the challenger head on. “Draw your blade then,” I said. “Let us have our duel, here and now.”

Zendig looked at me and shook his head, dull eyes barely comprehending what was going on. “No, not here. We must fight atop the Museum of Pity. Ring the bell to summon me. Three times.”

I dashed at him, hoping to provoke the elf to a fight but he merely vanished in smoke. He had issued a challenge to me once more and I would not back down on it.

Was this the wisest decision? Perhaps not. But ego and pride were wounded at his words. A fly spell was activated and I was off to the rooftops, searching for the museum.

A phantasm, an illusion of Orlin, appeared beside me as I flew through the great city. “This looks far from where you were aiming to be, friend,” he said.

“I have slain the first mage,” I said. “The other two will have to wait. There are artifacts to find, great prizes to be won.”

“Are you not satisfied with what we have already plundered?”

“There is plunder, friend mage, and there are life-changing artifacts. What I have gained a hold of has thus far given me far more strength than my contemporaries in the Cursed Lands of Lepidonia. What I seek will only compound that power. When I return to the land, it shall not be to wage war, it will be to simply collect my territory,” I gloated.

“I can appreciate how this power isn’t going to your head,” the wizard replied. “Still, I suppose there is something to be said about having more firepower.”

“Do you still intend to cower behind that portal or shall you join me on my journey?” I asked. “I have been given knowledge of this area and know its secrets. Enough so to make short work of the hunt.”

“I dare not slow a spry young man like yourself down,” Orlin said. “And my cowering, as you say, is working better than expected. I’ve found the other two targets. Both will be easy to jump when the time comes.”

That was good news. If we kept things up at this rate, we might be able to wrap up this adventure sooner than later. Then I’d be able to use all my newfound gadgets to seize hold of Lepidonia – taking the entire pie for myself. They all wanted to shut me out? So be it. They couldn’t keep the doors to the Cursed Country sealed for much longer.

Chapter 22

The Museum of Pity was on a lone platform, sitting out from the rest of the buildings in the plaza. Large faces of men and women weeping were everywhere and I could see them perpetually sobbing. The main complex was made of marble and looked to be a mausoleum of some sort, a house of the dead.

Witch elves did not die so perhaps this was a place dedicated to the end they would never face. I wonder if they found their immortality to be a morose thing, or if it was a pleasant experience. No doubt they would prefer normal death to being trapped in these nightmare states.

I landed atop the roof and found the great silver bell that Zendig had spoken about. Pulling it three times would summon him and we could do honorable battle. How strange, to draw blades with someone for a fair fight. All the killing I had ever known was done in a frenzy, purely to overpower the foe. Fighting with swords was going to be interesting.

Rapier in hand, I pulled on the bell. Ting. Ting. Ting. The bell rang out three times, the haunting tune causing my body to disrupt ever so slightly.

After the last ring echoed out, a puff of silver smoke appeared. Standing on the other side of the rooftop was the man who had been taunting me hours earlier. Zendig, adorned in light armor and with his rapier drawn, began to encircle me.

“Long have I waited for someone to ease the pain of my curse,” he said, waiting for me to move. I began to stride forward, keeping my blade up. I was no classical fencer or bladefighter, I had no idea what I was doing. But there was a novelty to this. Almost a…a joy?

There was a pulse within me. Yes. It was joy. Some energy within me was breaking through the perpetual misery and pain of the undead curse to give me a glimpse of excitement. I could remember Hector, swinging a stick around violently, pretending to be a guard as he wacked anyone in his way. I could remember the anger in his heart when someone bigger thwacked him back.

“En guarde,” I replied, taking my first swing at the warped elf. My blade flickered out to strike him in the torso, but his blade was faster. Our weapons clashed and in an instant, I was disarmed.

I fell backwards, scrambling as the man swung at me a few more times, narrowly dodging his swings. Fortunately, my return ability activated and I was able to regain the Amber Blade just in time to block a downward stab.

Kicking his leg with one of my clawed feet, I rolled to the right and sprang upwards. The blow did nothing to slow the witch elf down, however, and he struck me in the back of the head with his hilt. The world spun around for a moment as I staggered forward, stunned from the blow.

“Get your head in the fight!” Hix hooted at me as I stumbled to defend myself from the flurry of slashes coming my way. The stun effect had me too sluggish to properly ward off his strikes and, pretty soon, I was riddled full of holes.

Light poured from my wounds as the negative energy fled from me. I stumbled backwards, to the edge of the museum we were standing atop.

Zendig rushed me, confident as ever. I fell backwards, off the edge of the platform. I had no fly spell active but I didn’t care, landing would be easier than dealing with another strike from this monster.

The witch elf watched me fall, doing nothing. He merely stood at the edge and looked down. I struck the hard metal ground moments after that, my body barely able to withstand the fall. Fortunately my regeneration abilities were already working overtime and I could feel myself begin to repair itself.

“So much for an easy fight,” I muttered, sitting up and staring at the weapon in front of me. “Some help you were.”

I half expected to hear the weapon reply but there was no sound. Just silence and emptiness of a hard loss. Had I been a little less fortunate back there, I might have been destroyed. I was playing too dangerously with these greater powers. There had been no reason past my own ego to challenge this elf…and yet, even now I was fuming at the humiliation of the loss. Part of me was scheming on how to defeat him.

There was no reputation on the line, no one to witness the embarrassment of my failures and yet I was enflamed as ever. Perhaps this was the effect of being undead but I could not bear this slight. I vowed to destroy Zendig, even if it killed me.

But a vow was not a death wish. I was not compelled to act in a foolish manner. I needed an edge in the fight – I needed armor.

The suit that Anna the Fallen Star had crafted me was fine aesthetically and it did have some enchantments but the strength was weak compared to the enemies I had been facing. Armor creation was not something the Cult of the Veil would become famous for – we had no real artificers to speak of. The best Anna could do was hire powerful craftsmen and employ them at an extremely competitive wage.

Even then, the armor wasn’t that particularly strong. I needed something that could block more than a few stray hits. I needed the Aegis of Amber, one of the artifacts hidden within this place.

I probably should have gone after it first, since the aegis was a breastplate, making it indispensable for protecting my body. But my ego and idiocy had gotten me embroiled in the fight before I could really think it out. Now that I realize it, having the Aegis would be the single most useful tool I could have in my arsenal – for without a good defense, it was impossible to survive long enough to develop a proper offense.

The Aegis was located on the edge of the city, right where the empty lake met with the beachfront. A series of catacombs were built, perhaps once to capture the tides and transport the water elsewhere, and within those catacombs was my prize. The image of its location was burned brightly into my mind, all I had to do was go and claim my treasure.

When Orlin learned of my destination, he decided to tag along.

“I must see what it looks like, closer to the cloud,” he had said, teleporting beside me in an instant. How easily he was able to get to me at any time. Interesting. I don’t know if I liked that.

“If we can recover the Aegis, I’ll happily escort you into the mists,” I said. There was an artifact, a pair of bracers, that were floating out in the middle of the sky, miles above the lake. What it was doing there was anyone’s guess, for while I knew of the bracers, I had no way of seeing them. “I’ve business in there anyway.”

Chapter 23

The Hivework Catacombs were hexagonal and impressive in their architecture. At the base of the city, upon a large hill, were eighteen hexagon tunnels, fixed one after another in a way that was reminiscent of a beehive. Grey in paint, the catacombs were as complex as they were large.

But I knew how to find the Aegis. The armor was located in the furthest reach of the upper 12th hex.

The skittering of feet on concrete caught my attention well before I could detect any movement in the lower levels. As Orlin and I approached on foot, huddled figures emerged from different levels of the platforms.

They were blue-skinned creatures, pale and short, like humans though missing noses. Their fingers were long and their hands webbed, and they walked with a hunch. Most were no taller than two feet at the most.

They had piercing eyes that watched me and my wizard companion closely and curiously. There were hundreds of them, if not thousands, coming out of every hexagon to see what the fuss was.

“Oh great, zombies,” Orlin said.

“No, not undead,” I replied, holding a hand to stay the man from any rash actions. These creatures were curious but lawful. I could sense their Justice orientation from here. They radiated with an ordered presence and I felt I was in a kindred presence. Perhaps for the first time since I had left the Pyramid.  “I am Velking Demoneyed,” I announced. “And I have come for the Aegis. If any here wish to oppose me, I shall slaughter you all. But should you keep to your selves, I will not harm you.”

There was a great buzz amongst the crowd. Most of them vanished back into the catacombs upon hearing they were safe. Only a few dozen remained and even then, they were rather reticent to approach me.

One brave man emerged from the crowd. He was the tallest among them and wore a burlap robe with some basic symbols etched into them. His clothing was the most simple amongst the group, despite the wear and tear of their outfits.

In his right hand was a ceremonial crooked staff, three jingling bells tied to the end. As he lifted the staff, the bells bounced and jumped, radiating off magic with each motion. “I am Pfeffer, speaker of the Squibs,” he said. “We are peaceful architects and engineers. We work with our hands to maintain the city, we mean no harm to any.”

“You’re the builders? You might want to get back to work!” Orlin said. “That city’s in ruins!”

“Reconstruction efforts take time, we work block by block,” the Squib replied, narrowing his eyes at the wizard. “And there are only so many of us, thanks to the corruption of the light.”

“How are you not affected?”

Pfeffer motioned for me to follow him into the lower hexes. I walked after him, curious to see what was within the rest of this marvel. I knew the rest of the hive went on for miles and miles, spanning all throughout the lower part of the city. There were even ways up into the great citadel from all the way down here. Of course, such a route would be circuitous and pointless for someone who could fly or teleport. But for logistics? This place made a great deal of sense in its design.

“The Progenitors, the Father Race, as we call them, spawned us a long time ago. We were given a construction song in our heart,” Pfeffer explained as we walked through the long hallway. There were dozens of doors and routes leading to different parts of the hive, some opening and shutting quickly as residents became aware of us. “And orders to build and maintain the great city. We built the Hiveworks for ourselves first and then the vertical city for the Father Race.”

“So you are thralls?” Orlin asked. “It’s a poor wizard who makes a sentient race and then enslaves them.”

“The witch elves grew us from the very salt of the waters that once filled the lake,” he explained. “We have very simple desires and needs. The ideas of slavery and freedom are simply not thoughts in our head.”

We reached a corridor that suddenly opened up into a great expanse. Standing at the edge of the hall, I could see the small city beneath us. It was a few miles down, in a cavern opening that had dozens of support beams connecting to it.

The city was mostly made out of metal, with a few concrete buildings here and there. It was like a miniature version of above, though with considerably less religious architecture. All save for the great chapel I could make out, built on the highest point in the cavern. Stained glass portraits of a many armed monster adorned the building, sending a sense of dread through me. There was a warding effect on the glass. Not to keep people out but to keep something in.

Pfeffer pointed to the chapel. “The Aegis can only be accessed through the chapel entrance.”

“And let me guess,” I said. “There’s a warped elf in there?”

“Hardly, we could have figured out how to draw the creature away if that were the case,” Pfeffer replied. “No, there’s a demon trapped inside the building. Our wards were strong enough to keep it from getting out but it’s been in there for hundreds of years.”

More demons? Good thing I grabbed the option that did extra damage to unholy creatures. “I’m guessing you’ve seen many come for the Aegis before?” Orlin inquired.

“Few and far but yes, we have others come searching,” the leader explained. “Though the trouble is that they never return.”

“What type of demon is it?” I asked.

“That I wouldn’t know,” Pfeffer chuckled. “That was some hundred years ago.”

“You look rather fresh for being so old,” I said.

“The elves gave us the same immortality as they, though it only extends to biological energies. When we are killed, our spirits dissolve, same as any created race,” the man explained. He looked at me with a sort of grimness. “And with the Light gone, death comes in many ways.”

“Are you afraid?” I inquired, glancing out at the little city. These creatures reminded me of the goblins back in the Veiled Kingdom, though far more skilled in their labor.

“I am,” he said. “Afraid for our future. Afraid for our people.”

“What would you give to be free of that fear?” I asked.

“Take whatever you wish of us, we hold to no possessions,” Pfeffer replied, misunderstanding my intentions. “You shall receive no resistance from any of us.”

“I do not intend to take advantage of your people, good sir,” I said, turning to face the little man. “Rather, think of me as potential salvation.”

“Salvation? Forgive me, but a stinking corpse doesn’t exactly herald good things,” Pfeffer said, wrinkling his face as he considered what I was saying.

“You live in a bleak place, where death and decay reign,” I explained. “I possess the power to bring your people somewhere safe. Or I could bring forces to protect you.”

“And what would that cost us?”

“Nothing but your devotion,” I said. “Nothing in your lives changes except you’re more secure.”

“We should speak more if you return from the chapel,” he replied. “For anyone who bears the Aegis surely would be worthy of our devotion. Anything else is just talk.”

Chapter 24

The Squib civilization was more than happy to allow me access to the great chapel where the demon waited. These little people were interesting to me; they were skilled engineers and metal workers. Imagine what they would be able to do for my territory in the Cursed Lands! Their brutal metal architecture could span the land, twisted citadels raised to allow my soldiers a place to garrison. A palace of metal and stone to hold my court…yes, I was pleased with their work. Pleased enough to offer them safety and security.

They were savvy enough to refuse such an offer at first. I was a complete stranger and I had no way to prove my strength. But their tune would change as soon as I slayed the demon singlehandedly.

I say singlehandedly because Orlin once again decided to fall back. What had been the point of giving him a high level weapon if all he was going to do was shrink back every encounter? He made a few excuses about wanting to save his strength for real trouble but something was beginning to worry me. Was he really on my side or was he just waiting for me to tire out to strike?

No, that didn’t make any sense. I had been vulnerable before and Orlin intervened to save me. Though, it is possible I was serving his ulterior motives all this time. Maybe he was just waiting for me to get the right item before he struck?

Come on, focus! These paranoid thoughts made no sense, Orlin was a fine fellow. He was just skittish when it came to combat. I shelved these thoughts and made my way inside the great building.

Immediately a freezing air met me as the Squibs unsealed the door and opened it. I hurried in, the mechanisms of the door’s locks reset quickly. The door slammed shut instantly and for a moment I thought I was trapped. And then I knew I was trapped. There was only one way out: winning this fight.

The interior of the chapel was wide and empty, with many shattered pews scattered about. The stained glass windows were the only things that weren’t damaged in the church, their symbols glowing with eldritch energy that warded off all demonic things.

Resting before the altar in the center of the great chapel was a blocky throne, made of iron and steel. The legs of the throne were golden thorns that jutted out, propping the throne high above the rest of the room.

The back of the throne was diamond shaped and extended a ridiculous height, far beyond what would be expected of any reasonable chair. Even if it were being built to impress, there was no reason for the chair’s back to be so high.

A great body was sitting in the throne, his frame tall and lanky, though not nearly the length of the chair’s back. It was a witch elf, his flesh partially fused into the frame of the throne. His right hand was free but his left was merged to the chair’s arm, their bodies intertwined with thorn and flesh.

“Stay back,” the witch elf said, reaching out his free hand towards me. “Breaking the circle shall awaken the beast within me.”

I glanced down just in time to see that there was a carved ward circle in the ground. The entire area was sectioned off, making the fight space considerably smaller. This was a good thing for me, it meant I’d be able to leap out of the fight and regenerate quickly – my foe wouldn’t be able to pursue.

“You are salient?” I asked. “Most of your kind has thus far been mad.”

“The curse has affected us all in different ways,” the man replied, breathing heavily in between his words. “I, for example, became limp and inert, affixed to this chair. Powerless to stop the demon from coming and seizing my body. Now it rests within, stirring only to feed.”

“And you have no control when it awakens?” I asked.

“None,” the warped elf admitted. He gestured to his mostly limp body. “This is far from what I would consider control.”

His mind was perfectly functional. Interesting. Should I ask him some questions before engaging? I already knew where all the most valuable treasure was here…what else was there to know?

“Any weaknesses I can exploit?” I asked.

“A demon merged with a witch elf? I don’t think there’s a worse combination for you to face,” he said. “You best go on your way. There’s no reason to throw your life away.”

“My life was already thrown away,” I replied, extending my claws as I drew my rapier. “My apologies.”

“Please, by all means, kill this body,” the elf replied.

I crossed the circle and at once the witch elf’s frame began to warp and contort. His flesh grew bulbous and reddish black as the chair began to contort and warp, the tall throne back bent and curved to grow a vicious needle. It looked like a scorpion’s tail in the guise of a chair.

A crocodile face jutted out of the witch elf’s head, with shining yellow eyes. “Food! Fresh food!” he said.

“Get lost,” Hix said. “This one’s taken.”

“You’re the one I’m talking about!” the demon roared as the throne grew long, thornlike legs that skittered across the ground. Two thick arms burst out of the throne’s side, made of iron and blood, equipped with six fingers each.

The monster was a grotesque mixture of a throne and a demon, not quite either and constantly shifting. The frame was unstable and I could see multiple figures try to emerge as it moved. Despite its instability, it still had huge metal arms and a throne-stinger that was bent and aimed straight towards me.

The fighting happened in a flash.

The monster came rushing at me and next thing I knew, I was being riddled with blasts of magic. My vision was overwhelmed with flares of red and blue energy and in the snap of the finger, the stinger had stabbed through my chest, lifting me high in the air.

“Fuck he’s fast!” Hix shouted, echoing my own thoughts as I slashed my claws blindly, cutting through steel and flesh at the same time. My thrashing caused the throne to drop me and the demon screamed in pain.

Vision returned as I landed beside the throne demon’s left. I spun and stabbed my claws straight into the torso of the witch elf but the body warped out of the way, melding into the throne, leaving me with nothing but metal and cushion to strike.

The hands seized me by both arms and lifted me high, attempting to pry me apart. The demon was strong but so was I. I flexed and pulled down as hard as I could, digging my claws into the throne seat. The demon tried to resist, pulling back equally as hard but I had the advantage of determination. Through sheer focus, I forced the arms down, further and further, causing metal to creak and flesh to bend.

There was a moment of tension and then, freedom! I was falling backwards, the arms ripped free from the metal frame and now useless to me. I landed on my hands and sprang upwards, flipping over the chair as it staggered from left to right.

“My arms!” the demon screamed. “My arms!”

I drew my rapier and spun, stabbing the chair in the back. The explosive point enjoyed touching the unholy flesh and in an instant, the monster was engulfed in flames. I slashed a few more times, this time at the center of the chair where the torso had disappeared to, and it was over. The witch elf within was slain easily and thus the demon was released from its housing.

The chair fell over inert and nothing more than a regular metal throne. Above I could see the demonic aura gathering; the creature wasn’t dispersed but displaced. It couldn’t go anywhere due to the warding circle. Slowly the light weakened and then faded.

“What happened to it?” I asked.

“Ran out of essence right before our eyes,” Hix said. “You are a certified demon killer, friend.”

Demon Slain! 1,500 Discordance Gained! appeared in my vision. “I like the feeling,” I said. “Best stay on my good side, Hix.”

Chapter 25

With the demon destroyed, I was able to explore the rest of the chapel undisturbed. I found the secret entrance that led to the Aegis and after a few hours of travel, I was able to claim my prize.

The armor was hidden within an eternal garden. Opening the plain metal wall revealed a great room filled to the brim with all manner of plant life. Vivid colors of red, blue and green met my eyes and for a moment I was overwhelmed.

I entered the place, my instincts telling me the suit was inches away. And there it was, a golden breastplate draped across a statue of a woman holding a book. She was a Living Saint.

“My Sister has told me about you,” she said suddenly coming to life as I approached. “I am not so convinced of your fidelity to our cause. The blade and the spear are paltry items compared to the Amber Breastplate. Such a prize will give you powers akin to immortality. Will you truly stay and fight when you have no longer a fear of death?”

“Do you understand what I am?” I asked, gesturing to my flesh. “For I am already dead.”

“You reek of fear of the end,” she hissed. “It fuels your every movement.”

“As it does for all living creatures,” I replied. “What the fuck would you know? You’re a statue, a being without needs.”

“You strike a point, though your language is foul,” the statue said. “Yet I am not impressed. Take a Brand to prove your loyalty to this city.”

It was tempting to give more problems to the Living Saint but I needed the armor more than my ego needed to be satisfied. “What is a brand?” I asked.

“A simple marker that burns you if you should try to flee this city before your work is done,” she said.

“I bear a medallion that does the same,” I said, producing the Smiting Star’s coin. “There is a contract out and I am here to fulfill it. As a creature ordered towards Justice and Order itself, I will not violate the terms I have been given until they are fulfilled.”

The Saint slowly nodded at this. “I see the magic within that item. And the words you speak are not false. I do not gift this to you but there is nothing that can be done to stop you from taking it.” She began to fall apart. As the statue crumbled, so the garden began to wither. Part of me felt a sorrow at seeing this take place.

The other part didn’t give a damn as I grabbed my prize from the rubble. You Have Acquired the Amber Aegis! You now have 2/4 of the Amber Set.

The armor seemed to become like liquid as I lifted it up, wrapping itself all around my torso. In a flash, I was wearing a brilliant golden breastplate.

Armor Fused: Amber Aegis.

You may now channel Discordance into your Ancient Armor , strengthening your bond. The stronger the bond, the more abilities you have. This armor cannot be destroyed but its defensive properties can become disabled. All power it gains is permanent.

Yes! This was exactly what I wanted. Armor that had the same kind of qualities as my blade. Let’s see what options I had for protecting myself from this big bad world. All it would take is a pinch of Discordance…

Amber Aegis has gained 500 discordance!

You have unlocked a new Upgrade. Choose an upgrade path. (Note: You only purchase from one path until it is completed.)

Path of the Immortal: You gain hourly health regeneration.

Path of Retribution: After taking damage, you gain major bonuses.

Path of the Stalwart: Grants Immunity to backstabs and surprise attacks.

Just like with the Amber Blade, I had options for which path I could choose. Path of the Immortal was tempting, if not for the fact that I had the symbiont within me already. That thing had nestled inside of me deep and was more than content to live off my lower energies, steadily fueling me with reconstructive abilities so its host could live as long as possible. I had no reason to change up this arrangement just yet.

The Path of the Stalwart was a fine choice, for it would allow me to get the drop on my enemies by walking willingly into ambushes. If I couldn’t be stabbed in the back, there was no reason to worry about walking into a large group of enemies. No doubt they’d be surprised to realize their assassination tactics failed, giving me time to end them swiftly.

I selected Path of the Stalwart and felt as the armor around me began to shift a little, the back of it growing more reinforced as a white jewel emerged. From the jewel my consciousness could ‘see’ everything behind me. Interesting.

More options appeared.

Path of the Stalwart has been selected! As long as you have equipped the Aegis Armor, you may use any of the abilities you have purchased.

You have 1 Upgrade! Please select a Passive Benefit.

Sentinel: You are aware of all enemies in the area at all times.

Shifting Defense: After you are struck by a type of attack, gain 50% resistance to that type for a minute.

Spellkeeping: Cast one spell into the armor. You may activate it at any time.

Sentinel and Spellkeeping were both excellent choices and I decided to spend another 500 points to acquire them. My armor shifted and grew thicker. Immediately, I was keenly aware of my entire surroundings. This was different from simple sight, however. It was a sense of knowing who and what was in the area. There were some spirits here but they were of no consequence.

I finished up my choices and looked at my artifact sheet, pleased to see how things were shaping up.

Amber Blade

Level: 2

Discordance: 0

Configurations: Rapier / Spear

Paths: Path of the Fencer

Lightning Speed: When wielding the Fencing Blade, your movement speed increases by 45%.

Disarming Strike: Allows you to effortlessly disarm opponents.

Spell Striker: You may strike magical attacks with your weapon to disperse them.

Spiraling Leap: Gain a 25 foot leap.

Weapon Transmutations:

Quicksilver Composition: Your weapon becomes infused with Quicksilver, dealing extra damage to all witch elves.

Bladefire Adaption: Your strike abilities can be used with your weapon.

Piercer: All piercing strikes cause explosive damage.

Seeking:  Spear always strikes its target when thrown.

Returning: Returns after striking an opponent when thrown.

Ancestral Memories:

Saint’s Perspective: Your attacks deal holy damage to unholy creatures.

Leader’s Dictate: You may see invisible foes and weak points.

Amber Aegis

Level: 1

Discordance: 0

Paths: Path of the Stalwart

Sentinel: You are aware of all enemies in the area at all times.

Spellkeeping: Cast one spell into the armor. You may activate it at any time.

Chapter 26

“Don’t you look fancy?” Orlin said as he noted the reflection of the yellow clouds above, illuminating my armor.

We were walking through the empty lake, deep below the city. Orlin had insisted we go out to observe the clouds and I had no reason to disagree. There was an artifact floating out there. I could still sense it. A pair of bracers, suspended perfectly in the air. I just needed to find it.

“I’m growing quite the collection of ancient gadgetry,” I replied. “And it continues to grow. I can sense something nearby. Though I can’t quite see it.”

Orlin departed from me and walked a few feet away, raising his hands towards the heavens. “Let’s see if I can figure out what the hell this is.”

Rays of blue and green energy flew from his fingertips, sailing upwards into the clouds. Sparks and flares of energy flashed through the yellow billows for a moment. A bolt of lightning crashed from the heavens into Orlin’s right hand, though it did not burn him. The light merely danced in his hand for a moment before fading away entirely.

“Well?” I asked, staring up towards where the artifact was. A mile away, straight up. Couldn’t see a thing though.

“Interesting,” the wizard muttered. “Very interesting. It appears to be made of chaos magic. Pure chaos, billowing towards the city.”

“Have you ever heard of such a thing before?” If this was chaotic energy, then I might not be able to fly through it. My body was Ordered and thus I could be torn apart by the competing power, armor be damned.

“Pure clouds of an alignment? They exist mostly in the celestial realms,” Orlin replied. “Normally the gods would monitor those closely. Makes me wonder if this is perhaps a judgment of some sort.”

Thunder clapped and lightning cracked through the sky. The clouds began to rumble, growing darker, though still yellow.

“What are you doing now?” I asked.

“Not a damn thing!” Orlin yelped.

Suddenly, the artifact began to move. Downwards, towards me. Something was wearing it! Shit!

A colossal dragon, black as the night sky, emerged from the clouds, flames pouring from its mouth. It had four long legs with razor sharp claws, a forked tail and scales that could easily deflect the strongest of blades. It was easily the size of a small castle. Far bigger than anything else within the warped elves’ domain.

Orlin was on the problem in an instant, creating an equally large dragon made out of rainbow energy. He raised his staff high, channeling all of his power through.

The black dragon swiped a claw through the phantasm, breaking it to pieces and sending Orlin to his knees.

“Well, I tried,” he gasped, dropping the staff to the ground and keeling over onto his side. He curled up into a ball and shivered profusely.

“Don’t just lie down and die!”

“Magic overload, dumbass,” Hix said. “Humans can’t perform high level magic without it fucking their nervous system. You can cast whatever you like because you’re already fried at every level.”

Good point. I looked up at the great dragon as it continued to descend, growing seemingly bigger with each passing moment. “I’m tempted to fight it,” I said.

“Do it,” Hix pushed. “Give into your madness! He’s a chaotic creature, so if you kill him, you get even more discordance.”

No wonder the dragon was coming down to feast.

My rapier shifted to the Stonebreaker Spear and I twirled it in hand as I waited for the dragon to get within range. I could add some dragonskin to this new armor of mine.

Fire came pouring down towards me as soon as the dragon was within range, 500 feet above. I threw my spear as hard as I could, hoping the seeking magic would work. As I rushed across the battlefield, avoiding the flames with ease, I watched as the spear struck the underbelly of the dragon, bright red blood spraying out.

Instantly, the spear was back in my hand. The dragon spun in a circle, flying high to avoid my next throw. The weapon returned to me regardless of whether it struck or not, meaning I had unlimited ammunition.

My throws warded off the dragon from striking me directly; it was too wary to allow me another wound. Instead, the beast began to cast a spell. I knew not what was coming my way but I switched to the Rapier, anticipating something direct.

The dragon wove the spell with his claws, hovering for a brief moment in midair as he aimed at me. A wellspring of magic appeared, pure blue energy, that came beaming straight at me. I slashed with my sword, cutting through the magic, splitting the beam in half. Both shots zipped past me, striking nothing but raised ground.

Despite my defenses, I was still in trouble here. The dragon had a height advantage on me and wasn’t interested in giving it up. Even if I could dodge the flames and block his spells, he would eventually figure out some method of taking me down. I had to go on the offensive.

My new armor’s best feature was that it contained a pre-cast spell within it – specifically the Fly spell. The spell activated from an item had a time limit instead of a concentration timer – it lasted for one minute. That was long enough to catch me in a bad fall or allow me to close the gap with a foe, like this dragon for instance. I just had to be sure I could get to it before the spell expired.

“Orlin, can you regenerate your magic?” I asked, watching as the dragon began to prepare yet another spell.

“Working on it,” he wheezed.

“I’m going to distract the beast, ready a proper spell this time, and don’t put all of your life force into it!” I ordered, activating my Fly spell. Instantly, the armor released the magic and I felt a gust of wind beneath me.

I flew upwards as quickly as possible, dodging another beam spell in the process. With my rapier now equipped, I was moving much faster through the air and the dragon couldn’t keep track of me. It tried to spin but I was faster. In the blink of an eye, I was on his back.

Switching back to my spear, I tried to thrust the weapon into the skull of the dragon but it was armor plated.

“Damnable mortal,” the dragon growled as it rolled over in midair, trying to shake me off. I dug my left claw into the scales, red blood pouring out as I held on for dear life. “Release me!”

“Your kind is not immortal,” I replied, ripping the scale off as I dug my feet claws into the back of the dragon. “And I will prove it.”

The dragon roared in pain but its arms did not have the reach to grab me. Instead, he fell backwards, hurtling towards the earth.

I ignored the danger. If my armor couldn’t handle impact damage then it wasn’t going to be very useful. Instead, I simply began to dig into the monster’s body with my claws, forgoing all technique and weapon skill. Sometimes one just had to be a ghoul.

The dragon’s scales were a little resistant but not enough to protect it from me. The great creature howled in agony as I severed some tendons.

We crashed to the ground. Instantly, I was covered in dirt while my body was pressed against the hard floor. The armor held without a problem, though my limbs did not. I heard them snap and crack, but already the symbiont was repairing me.

“Enough!” the dragon yelped as it climbed off me and limped a few feet off. I had taken a chunk out of his forward leg in the fight and he was bleeding heavily now. “I yield, if you are a thinking creature. I yield!”

A dragon crying uncle? Interesting. “Slay him!” Hix said. “Feast on his power.”

“I am no animal,” I replied, standing and dusting myself off. The impact had destroyed everything except for what had been covered by my armor – and yet I had fully regenerated. Truly, I was getting stronger by the day in this strange city. “I accept your yield, dragon.”

Chapter 27

The great black dragon collapsed on the ground, holding his wounded shoulder and grunting with anger. He had violet eyes that seemed to contain a great deal of fear. The beast was afraid of dying.

“Why did you attack me?” I asked as I stood before the dragon, fearless and ready to slay it should the need arise.

“I sensed an opportunity for a quick meal,” he replied. “Two fleshy beings standing in the field?”

The chaos dragon wasn’t telling the truth here. He knew something but wouldn’t tell me so easily. “What is the purpose of your lies?” I asked. “Why do you obscure the truth to me?”

“Come now, I’m a creature of chaos, I can’t keep a story straight,” the dragon said.

“Speak truthfully or face death,” I ordered.

“Fine! Fine!” the dragon said, lowering his head in submission. “I am Corian of the Cloud. The gods fashioned me from a star and sent me to bring judgment to the Silver Salt City. You two were in my domain and so I sought to strike you before you could do the same to me.”

Judgment from the gods? A terrible situation for the city. “What, pray tell, has led the gods to judge the city?”

The dragon snickered. “They erected a great city of faith, they built principles of goodness and reason, they invited all manner of order and justice into their lives. But in the end, they failed to seal it away from corruption entirely. The perfection of the city required a total imposition of order. Those who failed to adhere to the laws or who challenged traditions were excised. In some cases, from their bodies.”

“So this place was no paradise,” I said.

“A shiny place of the dead, nothing more,” he replied. “My purpose is simply to guard the cloud and allow it to unfold.”

“I am not here to interfere with your purposes,” I said. “But I do seek a treasure. One that appears to be resting in your possession.”

“If I give it to you, will you leave me be?”

“On my word,” I said.

The dragon sighed. “I took it off the corpse of one of the people who challenged me. It is a dear prize but if it will buy my life, so be it.” He bared his teeth and revealed a pair of bracelets that were affixed like gold jewelry. Carefully, he picked them off and tossed them to me.

“They resonate with a power I cannot control,” he said. “So they are of very little value to me beyond that sentimentality.”

These couldn’t be any more wet. Even though I was a hideous thing of reviled flesh, I still was disgusted by the condition of the bracers.

“Go then,” I said. “And leave us to our business.”

“Very well,” the dragon replied. He began to limp off, towards the part of the cloud that was touching the ground. It wasn’t too far off, I realized.

Once the bracers were cleaned, I slipped them on and felt as they latched to my wrists.

Armor Fused: Amber Bracelets of Strength.

You may now channel Discordance into your Ancient Armor, strengthening your bond. The stronger the bond, the more abilities you have. This armor cannot be destroyed. All power it gains is permanent.

An infusion of Discordance, the last 500 I had, activated the first upgrade, giving me options. But unlike the other two items, there were no options for a path.

You have 1 Upgrade! Please select a Passive Benefit.

Mighty: Gain a tremendous boost in your strength.

Parrying: You can easily block blows with your wrists.

Sturdy: You are must more resistant to knockdown effects.

These weren’t as interesting, but I now owned three out of the four pieces needed for the Amber Set. What bonuses would I gain if I were to complete it? What was the last piece? Boots? That would make sense. I wasn’t sure though…

I purchased Mighty, figuring there was never a reason to say no to extra strength. The ability to lift enemies four times my size would come in handy when I was indeed facing creatures of such height.

Once I finished my business with the bracers, I returned to find Orlin barely on his feet.

“You parleyed?” he asked. “I never knew that was an option with dragons.”

“I’m a busy man and he was willing to give me what I wanted,” I said. “I’ve no trouble letting him go. But I have learned enough about the clouds to know we’ve got a limited amount of time in this city. This is indeed the judgment of the gods upon the witch elves.”

“That’s not great news for us or them,” Orlin mumbled. “This place is full of so much treasure and history.”

“Can you divine how long it will take the cloud to reach the city?”

The wizard nodded at that and stared up at the sky for a moment. “Eh, it’s a spotty judgment but I’d say we have less than seven days, more than three.”

“Sounds like four to me,” I said.

“Four is a safe bet,” the wizard agreed. “Think we can wrap up our mission in that time?”

“I believe so,” I replied. “Though it is a shame that this place will be subject to divine wrath. There is much power to gain from these people and I would have loved to establish my cult here.”

“A shame,” Orlin echoed, though a little less sure than me. He paused and frowned. “You’re dead serious about growing as a god, aren’t you?”

“It is indeed the thing that I seek,” I replied, gesturing for him to follow me back towards the city. “Whether or not I will attain it is beyond me. But I will fight until my last breath and even after to gain it.”

“All for what?”

“What else? Peace,” I said. “True power is the path to peace. The ability to impose order, the strength to destroy your enemies should they rise up, this is what defines peace. You ask any king who makes a realm peaceful and they will say a strong army. It is no different for myself.”

The wizard slowly nodded. “I have to admit, I didn’t think I’d get this far with you. Sure I used to adventure but this kind of place is beyond what my qualifications were. Even with the staff I’ve been barely able to keep up with you. You’re a powerful being, Velking. And I must admit, I’m attracted to that power.”

“Are you reconsidering my offer?” I asked.

The old man slowly shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re far stronger than anyone I’ve seen before…and your character seems stable. You might be an undead menace but you have a clearer head than most people I’ve met…to serve you would grant me access to even greater strengths…but I’m no villain.”

“Neither am I,” I replied. “I simply do as I please. You have the same freedom as any of my other followers if you join me. I have no nefarious plots to rule the world, no secret ambitions to harm the masses. I simply wish to be left along and I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about bothering me. If you want to call that evil, so be it.”

“Reel it in, you beautiful bastard,” Hix whispered to me. I ignored him and waited for the wizard to make his decision.

“I’m not a bad person but…I put everything into that spell to delay the dragon and the beast didn’t blink. It slew my most powerful spell and then…then you jumped into the fray without fear of what the consequences would be. Such confidence, I suppose I’d do anything to have,” Orlin said. “But there are lines I won’t cross.”

“As I said before, there are no expectations. You are free to do as you please, provided you follow the basic guidelines set forth by our High Priestess. But even then, I think you would like her. She used to be a paladin, before she found her true calling.”

The old man bit his lip. “What’s in it for me?” he asked.

Orlin wasn’t demanding a bribe, oh no. He was, for the first time, perhaps, weighing what he would receive for joining the other side. He had no imagination for what I had to offer and so I needed to spell it out for him.

“I will make you my lieutenant,” I said. “A position of power and authority. You will have a wing of freshly graduated wizards, all who are more than devoted to the cause. They will do as you demand without question.”

“And they will study my techniques as well?” Orlin asked, suddenly looking up at me. I could see light in his face. “My theories have been rejected time and time again from the academies but my magic speaks for itself.”

“As I said, free rein,” I replied. “You will be in total control of your followers. If you wish to teach them the sun is wet, they will agree with you. But I warn you, Anna watches her leaders like a hawk. I have seen her kick the brains in of a woman who had no regard for the good of her fellow man. You best not run afoul of her.”

“Artifacts too?”

“Whatever you deem you want, we’ll have people find it for you,” I said. “Might take some time, but you’ll have plenty of luxuries to distract you. Food, wine, good company and of course, the very best choice of territory.”

“Territory?” Orlin asked.

“Lepidonia is in chaos, I seek to take control of my own slice of land. But as I have gained such power here, I’m thinking I might take the whole damn country. If you want to rule your own manor and portion of the country, I would more than welcome it. I do not seek to rule from the spotlight.”

Orlin swallowed hard. We reached the incline leading back up into the city. The clouds seemed much closer than they did an hour ago. “My own land?”

“Oh yes, everything you could possibly dream of. I don’t particularly care about any of it, so you won’t fear me revoking possession unless it were to punish you, but even then, I’m not particularly vigilant,” I confessed. “My followers could be taking advantage of my generosity and I wouldn’t know. See, I’m not the kind who tries to squeeze every last drop from a fruit when he wants a drink. I give a few good squeezes, sure, but I always leave the rest for the people at the bottom. When I eat, you eat. And I eat well every night.”

“Metaphorically speaking,” Orlin said, rubbing his chin. “You can’t eat anything since you’re dead. Tell me, is that something we can solve?”

“My undead state?” I asked.

“Indeed. I am not one who is infatuated with necromancy, it is a poor man’s magic and I think you’d be better off inhabiting a regular body,” Orlin said. “I’m willing to bet with the right amount of alchemy we could get that soul into something far more palatable.”

For a moment I was completely shocked by his words. He was casually admitting an idea that seemed so far off and preposterous to me that I scarcely could believe what I heard. “Surely you must be joking. For a spirit to return to life would be impossible.”

“But you are already back to life, your form is just different,” Orlin countered. “I’m sure with the right amount of expensive chemicals we can put you into a better form. It would be a high science to figure out for sure, but with the right team and effort, I can pull it off. I’d be far more comfortable serving some kind of construct abomination instead of an undead one. You’d be far less warped, that’s for sure.”

I knew my instincts were right about the wizard. “What do you say then? Are you up to the task? For you shall have free rein to experiment as you please as my Chief Wizard.”

“I have always said good and evil were a matter of taste,” Orlin said. “I’ve never been fond of the good side, for all their virtue they’ve not made the world any better. What’s the harm in siding with a shade of evil for a while? You will require no contracts or demands for my soul, yes? I’m not going to be sacrificed in some kind of cult ritual?”

“Perish the thought, I’d never waste a good spellcaster,” I said. I reached out my hand. “As for deals, how about a simple handshake? In due time, you can bind yourself to my will but if you would like the opportunity to explore your options, I see no reason to hold you back.”

The wizard did not hesitate. He swiftly shook my hand, gripping it tightly. “I have no intention of dipping my toe into the waters,” he replied. “I’m the kind of man who dives in headfirst.”

Chapter 28

First Step to Darkness! 500 Discordance Gained! appeared in my vision as Orlin and I returned to the Silver Salt City’s main area. A reward for helping the wizard find his way to the better side of the alignment spectrum. Enough to increase my armor once more, getting hold of that last upgrade, Shifting Defense. This leveled up the Armor, bringing the cost of upgrades to 1,500 each – a thousand more than before! I suppose I could not expect my power levels to stay cheap forever. But I would soon need to return to the Cursed Lands, where there was more discordance if I wanted to keep growing in strength.

My time in this city was nearing an end. The cloud of judgment was rolling relentlessly forward and we had only a few days to conclude our business. I would not do well against a region entirely consumed by chaotic energies, that was for certain.

So we returned to the portal room and Orlin prepared to send me to the next Costikar. While I battled the beast, he would go out and find the Crown as well as my Boots. I had given him clear instructions on how to reach the chambers where the boots were hidden; I had no desire to go on find them on my own. Rather, I was itching to test my mettle against another warped elf.

My last fight against the vigilante Zendig had not ended well, though it had ended quickly. I had been humiliated but I was in no rush for a rematch. There was time enough for me to test out my newfound armor on the remaining two Costikars before I would return. And make no mistake, I would certainly be returning to defeat the Everstrong elf.

Diving through the portal took me straight to the Costikar known as Alavis the Tomekeeper. He was resting in a dark cavern, a place deep beneath the earth in the Hiveworks. It would have taken me weeks to find him by hand, for he had the power to conceal his aura. Thankfully I had my wizard to speed things up.

Alavis was tall and green, his body bloated and fat. Pustules of pox were across his face and he stared forward with a stupid expression. I landed behind him, his exposed back easy to access.

With spear in hand, I charged the tall warped elf, not noticing the floating book beside him. Immediately, the large blue tome flipped open, revealing a page with many eldritch symbols upon them. A burst of electrical energy came pulsing out of the book before I could dodge, but my armor held against the attack, dispersing the magic.

I continued my charge, stabbing the elf in the back. He roared as my spear pierced him through, but much to my surprise, he was still functional. Despite the fact that I had struck his most vital spot, he was still standing.

Reaching down, the hulking elf grabbed the spear from his body and pulled it out, ripping it from my hands.

I began to slash with my claws as I fell down but the spellbook flew opposite of me and cast another spell. Yellow chains zipped forward and seized my wrists, pulling me upwards into the air. I dangled freely, fighting against the magic holding.

“Hur hur hur,” the Tomekeeper said as he spun around towards me, stabbing my armor with my very own spear. The blade pierced through easily and cut into my flesh – an explosion tore through my right shoulder, taking off my arm in the process.

The magic dispelled as my arm was ‘freed’ and I fell to the ground. The spear reappeared in my left hand, ready to be used once more.

So that was one weakness I had: the spear could be used to easily harm my armor. I rolled over and scuttered forward just in time to avoid a blast from the book.

Leaping to my feet, I quickly switched to the Rapier configuration and readied to defend against the next spell coming my way. A beam of lightning crashed at me but I slashed it in half. The book bobbed up and down, furious that I had defied it, and released another burst.

While I deflected this, the Tomekeeper began to advance towards me, one of his lanky hands digging into the ground, ripping out a chunk of stone. He leaned his whole frame backwards and wound up the throw. Another bolt of magic came my way as he released the stone, chucking it straight at my head.

I deflected the bolt with the blade and then, with one free hand, punched through the stone as it came closer. My enhanced strength thanks to the bracers rippled through my frame and I generated enough force to destroy the entire boulder as it crashed into my fist. Harmless shrapnel peppered me and I was covered in dust.

The elf lost track of me in the shroud of dirt that came from the stone being shattered. I took advantage of this and ran straight through the cloud, my right arm rapidly regrowing itself.

Tossing the spear to my regrown hand, I thrust upwards into the wretched elf’s bloated torso, skewering him through. He roared in agony but still refused to die, swiping down at me. I leapt aside, keeping my weapon in hand this time, easily dodging the blow.

Something wasn’t right. Each attach was at a vital point on the warped elf but he didn’t seem to take any lasting damage from my hits…hmm, what about the book?

The tome was still floating in the air, flipping through pages in search of something to cast. The thing was bobbing up and down slowly, its movements weak and jerky. Too many spells had drained it. This was my opportunity!

I leapt onto the back of the Tomekeeper, my claws scampering upwards as I gained momentum, and in a split second I was in the air, my spear crashing into the blue book. Magical energies exploded in a white hot shockwave as my ancient weapon tore through the equally ancient tome.

My armor absorbed most of the impact and I landed on the ground safely. The book had disintegrated from the force of my strike and as a result, the warped elf was falling apart. His body writhed and contorted as he shriveled up, the wounds now taking effect.

“Not so funny now is it?” I asked as the body split apart. A spirit sphere floated high in the air, joining the other that was following me. Glad to see there were no hard feelings. With the spirit in tow, I explored the rest of the cavern.

Witch Elf Slain! 800 Discordance gained! appeared in my vision as I wandered about the dark place. I must be somewhere within the Hiveworks…perhaps if I burrowed a little I could make my way back to the Squibs. They would do well to learn about the judgment incoming. That would certainly hasten their decision to join my side…

It took me a few hours but I was able to find my way back to Pfeffer and his people. He listened with great concern as I explained that the clouds would tear everything in this city asunder. By the end of the conversation, he had agreed to join the Cult of the Veil. They would serve as our architects and construction workers. In exchange, the Squib people would be considered free and able to own their own property. Such a deal was easy to make and a formal contract was drafted.

One useful bit of information I received during this time was the location of the third Costikar. She was located in an observatory that the Squibs had recently renovated and there was an access tunnel leading straight to it. Orlin was still busy with his quest to retrieve the artifact and so I decided to press my luck and see if I could take down the third target before heading back to the Ettercap Merchant. Worst case scenario, I’d just flee and have a knowledge of what my foe looked like.

Chapter 29

The observatory was magnificent in its size; it was a great circular building with a spacious roof that allowed for the gazing at the heavens. Four large pillars, square in shape, held up the ceiling and had long platforms on their sides. These were access points where people could ascend or descend to different levels of the observatory.

A withered corpse lay in the center of the room, a massive sword by her side. I dropped down from one of the access ways to examine the body further. It was a fresh kill, the wound still bleeding. Someone had struck her repeatedly with a blunt weapon.

From above, I heard a call. “Who in the hell are you?”

I gazed up to see there was a pale man wearing robes of black, with a white checkered chasuble draped over it. A crowned hat was upon his head and the symbol of a full moon sat in the center. In his hand was a great hammer, twice his size. At first, I thought this would be a Costikar but that couldn’t be right for this was a human.

“I should ask the same question,” I replied to the man, pointing my spear at him. “Did you slay this witch elf?”

“I laid a possessed creature to rest, yes,” the man replied. “You are the monster running about, aren’t you?”

“That I am,” I said. “And you would be?”

“I am Frer Lucan,” he said, bowing ever so slightly towards me. “High Inquisitor of the Estas Keepers.”

An inquisitor? Instantly my guard was up. These were usually the highly trained soldiers, the specialists who knew their way around a tough situation. Many had powers that helped them deal with undead.

“I am the revenant Velking,” I said. “And I come here to slay the one who has caused this entire mess.”

“You mean the Bishop?” Frer asked.

“Indeed.”

The man nodded slowly. “Then I suppose I will not stand in your way. But listen here, revenant. You may not take the Light with you. Store the Vessels back where they belong. If you take so much as a single bulb for yourself, you will see our wrath.”

“Is that so?” I asked, tilting my head. I spread my arms wide. “Why don’t you come down here and show me this wrath.”

“You think I won’t?” he threatened.

I grinned fiendishly at him. “You have much more to worry about than the Light right now. I’m sure you are familiar with the cloud. Do you know why it comes?”

The man shook his head. “No, that is one of the matters of why I am here.”

“It is judgment of the gods on your corruption,” I said. “In less than three days, your entire city will be demolished.”

Frer Lucan grew pale at that, he lowered his weapon and closed his eyes. “Gods be damned,” he muttered. “Do you speak truly?”

“I have no reason to lie,” I replied. “Your city is doomed. You best leave while you still have the chance.”

The inquisitor departed from me after that. With my prey having been stolen out from under me, I returned to the Ettercap Merchant. It was a disappointment that I had not been able to gain the power from dispatching another warped elf but at the same time, this meant the seals were all broken now. I could get access to the inner sanctum where the Bishop was waiting.

But first I had to improve some things and find Orlin. The wizard was still missing, though I could sense the Amber Boots were on the move. He may be in trouble, so I best pick him up before heading into the Palace of Contemplation.

The Merchant was pleased to see me return. He had done as I requested and sought out a fireball spell for me, one he was willing to sell for a mere 1,000 Discordance. I was more than happy to pay his fee and thus I gained one of the most potent offensive spells out there.

In addition to this, I had two more Transmutations to unlock, but I could choose which of my items to infuse. My weapon was nice and strong but I was still lacking a bit in the defensive department. Transmuting my armor was the best solution to this problem and I was greeted with new options.

You Have Gained 2 Armor Transmutations!

Extended: Gain matching greaves that protect your legs.

Merging: Armor merges into whatever clothing you wear, being impossible for others to detect.

Impervious: Become immune to your own weapons.

Slippery: You are much harder to grab.

Spelleater: Absorbs a portion of magical energy when struck by spells.

Abrasive: Armor deals damage to those who attempt to grab you.

An excellent series of choices. Slippery was my first choice, for it seemed the warped elves especially liked to seize hold of me and toss me around. Being able to easily move out of their grasp would ensure my mobility increased.

Extended was my second choice. Protecting my legs would be useful, since it seemed they were almost always coming off during high intensity fights.

Once I finished making my choices and purchasing the fireball, I began to follow my senses towards where the boots were. Interesting. They seemed to be at the Museum of Pity, where the Zendig was waiting for me. Why would Orlin be there?

Chapter 30

The answer to my question was an unpleasant one. Orlin had been accosted by Zendig while returning back with the boots and was beaten to a pulp, then placed in a steel cage atop the roof of the museum. The poor wizard still had his gear with him, but had no ability to even stand, for his face was cracked in quite badly.

My foe was nowhere to be seen. No doubt he was waiting for me to ring the bell to summon him. Damned fool, beat up my friend will he?

The word ‘friend’ froze in my mind. Was that what Orlin was to me? Nonsense, an undead monster had no friends…but humans did. Hector did. Yes, and part of me was human enough to recognize I liked the old man. Enough to be incensed about seeing him injured and battered.

“You are playing a dangerous game,” Hix warned.

“Yes, yes, I know love and friendship lead to goodness,” I replied, forcing the demon to go silent. I didn’t want to hear it right now. Rather, I had a score to settle.

“Orlin, are you okay?” I asked as I approached the bell.

“I wouldn’t ring that thing if I were you,” he wheezed. “I got my ass proper kicked in less than ten seconds.”

“I think that was around the length of my first match,” I said, rapping on my chest. “But I think I’ve got some armor to change that.”

“He left me with the boots,” Orlin said. “Didn’t even bother to take them.”

“Seems he wanted you simply to get to me,” I replied, glancing around.

Zendig was nowhere to be seen. He had an obsession with ringing the bell, I suppose that would bring him forth once more. It was tempting to just break Orlin out and leave but then again, the vigilante might be more vindictive next time. No, I’d handle him before getting my prize.

I drew my rapier and pulled the bell three times, then readied myself. Twenty feet across from me, in a puff of smoke, Zendig appeared. He sneered at me and flicked his own sword at me. “The coward returns.”

“I am no coward. I was simply taking the long route back up here,” I replied, tensing up. The thrill of battle rushed through my system once more and I felt eagerness to test my mettle.

Zendig sprinted towards me, sword slashing a dozen times in the air. Several of them were feints but most were sincere attempts to strike. I fended one out of every three blows but it didn’t matter. His strikes were aiming for my torso and the Amber Armor was laughing at his efforts.

Taking advantage of this, I pressed into him, swinging my own sword offensively. He was easily able to parry my blows but I had one advantage over him: stamina. I continually swung at him, forcing Zendig to hold his defense up as long as possible. But each strike was with an overwhelming force – a force strong enough to shatter through stone. The warped elf began to strain with each absorbed strike with his blade.

One. Two. And a third hit broke his defense completely. He fell backwards, staggered from the blow. In an instant, he was open and I took the shot with my left claw, spearing him through the chest. He managed to turn just in time to avoid a clean hit and the angle of my attack was misdirected. There was no way my blow was able to hit his vitals and thus the fight continued.

Zendig leapt backwards, breaking free from my melee. He flipped through the air and landed perfectly, blade aimed towards me. He was breathing heavily, gasping for air despite his perfect poise. “You are stronger than before,” he said.

“And you seem weaker,” I said, manifesting a fireball in my hands.

The fire spell was easy to cast; all I had to do was will my energy into a flaming sphere and imbue a heavy dose of explosive magic. Zendig tried to take a defensive stance as I threw the great flaming ball but he failed to calculate my aim. I figured he’d have the ability to cut through my magic, so I aimed for the ground before him.

The explosion caught the ground and a wave of fire washed over the warped elf, igniting him instantly. I rushed him, sprinting as fast as I could, rapier up high. Zendig’s reflexes were slowed greatly from the fire and he failed to defend against me as I caught him in the side of the head. The blade skewered through one side of his temple to the other, impaling his brain.

The warped elf stiffened and shriveled up instantly. I pulled my blade out and slashed a few more times to make sure the job was finished. The corpse withered and warped, releasing the spirit of the elf. Warped Elf Slain! 500 Discordance Gained!

“Damn it all,” Zendig’s spirit muttered as he floated above his body. “How did I end up here?”

“An excellent question,” I said, lowering my weapon and turning to face Orlin. “Are you okay?”

“I live,” Orlin said. The old man was now standing, hands on the bars of the cage. I walked up and stabbed through the lock with my rapier, breaking the door open.

“I am serious,” the spirit said as he floated beside me. “What happened?”

“You were driven mad by a curse,” I explained. Orlin tossed the boots to me and I caught them easily enough. They were covered in mud but still shined with an otherworldly energy.

Amber Boots acquired! appeared in my vision. Amber Set has been completed! You have gained the Amber Warrior Set Bonus! You move 50% faster and your strikes deal considerably more damage. You may change weapons faster.

“Strange, I have no memory of this,” Zendig said. “Still, if you have freed me, I thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” I replied, turning to face my beaten ally. “You good enough to move on?”

“I would do well to find something healing,” Orlin said. “That is my one weakness as a mage, no good healing magics.”

“Perhaps I could be of help,” a dark voice said in the distance. I glanced behind me to see there was none other than the Inquisitor, Frer Lucan, along with a few other humans in robes. They were armed with crossbows that had incredibly wide limbs. The weapons were down but that could easily change any moment.

“Frer Lucan,” I said. “We meet again.”

“Indeed we do,” the Frer said as he lifted up a great wooden staff with a crook on the end of it. “Spirit! Come to me!”

In an instant, Zendig was returned to his sphere state and he was pulled into Lucan’s weapon. A flare of agitation grew through me at this; that was my prize. This must have been the man who drained all of those souls from the warped elves within the crypts.

The Frer took out a small red bottle and tossed it to Orlin. The mage caught it awkwardly, desperately trying not to drop it. “This should fix you up, friend.”

There was a bitter sarcasm in the man’s words and he seemed irritated with us. What had we done to incense him?

Orlin hastily drank the potion down. He gasped for a moment, then clutched his stomach. “Oh that did not go down smooth.”

A moment passed and his wounds began to rapidly heal themselves. I relaxed a little. It appeared the Lucan wasn’t up to anything here. He was genuinely helping. “The seals have been broken,” Lucan said. “And you are gallivanting around here? Go and retrieve the light!”

“I was merely retrieving my ally,” I said. “Orlin will be a necessary component to the fight.”

“Is that so?” the Inquisitor asked. “Then I’m glad I patched him up.”

There was still a tension in the air, an unresolved anger that I could almost taste. Was he sizing me up for a fight?

Orlin’s voice gently appeared in my mind. “Don’t react to my voice. Listen, I know trouble when I see it. This man wants you dead.”

“Why did he heal you if that were the case?”

“I think he wants you to slay his foe first,” Orlin said. “I suggest we take the first action here.”

“Can you back me up?”

“I can,” the wizard replied. “They won’t stand a chance.”

I glanced at the inquisitor and his bunch. Was Orlin being paranoid? No, he had a fairly good set of senses in his head. If he suspected trouble, we best take advantage of the surprise.

I darted forward, fast as I could, hurtling across the landscape towards the inquisitor. The men all shouted and raised their mighty crossbows but a single bolt of energy zipped through, cutting each cord of the weapons. The inquisitor’s eyes went huge as I severed his head with ease, slashing with my claws.

The rest of the soldiers tried to draw their arms and fight but they were fodder compared to what I had dealt with previously. I chewed through their ranks in seconds, dispatching all but a single man.

“I yield,” the fellow had smartly shouted, dropping his weapon and cowering on the ground as I loomed over him. “For gods’ sake, I yield!”

“The gods are not here right now,” I said. “But I am. Bow to me and I shall let you live.”

“Yes, yes,” the man said, scrambling on his hands and knees towards me. “I bow, I bow!”

“Then you shall live,” I said, turning my back to him. I waited for him to strike me but he made no move. He merely stayed on his hands and knees. I could feel a sense of devotion growing within him. Strangely enough, I think I had just made a convert!

Chapter 31

Perfellow was a proper bootlick, that was for certain. He quite literally began to shine my boots as I took stock of the dead inquisitor’s possessions. He had many protections upon his person but nothing that would save him outright from a decapitation. I suppose he had not been planning to fight me.

“Whew, that was quite the gamble,” Orlin said, rubbing his forehead. “But I think we made the right bet.”

“You, Perfellow,” I snarled, pointing to the man as he finished shining my new boots clean.

“Sir!” he said, standing to attention and saluting me.

“What was the inquisitor’s plans?”

“H-he was to excise you after you defeated our mutual foe,” Perfellow stammered. He swallowed hard. “We were instructed to use holy ammunition and ambush you upon leaving the palace.”

The potion was just a means to lower my guard. Orlin saw past the guise. A clever man.

“Are you any good with that weapon?” I asked, pointing to the crossbow on the ground beside the soldier.

“Yes, I’m a crossbowman, trained seventeen years in my trade,” he said proudly. “Was the third best shot in my class.”

“Then grab it and come along,” I said. “We’ve got work to do and then we’re leaving this wretched town once and for all.”

“Have you grown tired of this place?” Orlin asked as the man quickly complied, grabbing his weapon and some ammunition from the fallen bodies.

“It’s more that this place is going to grow tired of us,” I said, gesturing towards the clouds. They were closer than ever now. “We best get moving.”

“We?” Orlin asked.

“Are you afraid to fight still?”

“My last battle was over in the blink of an eye,” the old man said. “I’m not sure I want to get into another scrap.”

“Come now, you’ve got Perfellow to protect you,” I said. “That is why he is coming along. His life is dependent upon your own.”

The soldier swallowed hard at that and saluted as he stood next to the wizard. “I’ll fight for your life like it’s my own, sir.”

“I’ve managed to sit out all of the big fights thus far,” Orlin mused. “I don’t suppose you’d allow me to avoid this one as well?”

“You’ve got to earn your rent, friend,” I said. “If you want to join the Cult, you’ll need to show you have some mettle.”

Orlin nodded and then relented. He and Perfellow followed as I made my way to the Palace of Contemplation. Pierre of the Peer was waiting outside of the great walls of the building, holding his hands up high to keep the doors sealed. Red magic streamed from his hands.

“You no longer need to do that,” I said. The priest turned to look at me and smiled widely.

“Ah! You’re alive! Sort of. Glad to know you were able to take the Costikars down. You ready to face the mad bishop?”

“Just about,” I said, glancing at my boots. I hadn’t put any points in them yet. Perhaps I would do well to infuse a quick 500 to see what I could gain.

Amber Boots have gained 500 discordance. You have gained 1 Upgrade.

Select 1 Upgrade from below.

Sprinting: Gain 100% movement speed increase for 10 seconds when you start running.

Skipping: You may teleport up to ten feet three times per day.

Catching: You always land on your feet.

Sprinting was tempting but I already had a significant amount of speed boosts. Skipping would provide me with a teleportation in emergencies and for tactical purposes. I could think of no better way to gain the advantage over the enemy. I selected the option and turned my attention back to the priest.

“Now I am ready,” I said. “Open the pathway.”

“I’m sealing it right back up,” he warned. “So you’re either coming back out a winner or not at all. There’s no way in hell I’m opening the thing with the bishop in tow.”

“Understood,” I said, nodding to him.

The priest nodded back and lowered his hands, causing the great seal around the doors to the palace to break. The red energy cascaded downwards, revealing a grand passageway into the palace; twin doors made of crystal and glass awaited us.

Perfellow raised his crossbow and sallied forth, to show he wasn’t afraid. “Easy,” I said. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, I do not need you to get killed carelessly. Protect the mage at all costs.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, allowing me to take the lead. Orlin cast a few spells with his staff, the effects invisible to the eye. He looked somewhat worried, but at the same time, determined to keep his composure. The result was a semi-confident mage who was on the verge of a panic attack.

We entered the grand palace, a place opulent beyond all reasoning. Gold and jewels adorned the ceilings, statues of solid silver were everywhere. The floor was made of pure marble and was polished enough to be reflective of our figures.

The palace was huge but finding our target wasn’t difficult. The mad bishop Favas was waiting within the inner sanctum.

I spotted him first. If the palace was a reflection of the opulence of the Estas Keeping tradition, the bishop was a grotesque inversion of that opulence. He was colossal, nearly thirty feet tall. The interior of the sanctum was easily large enough to fit three of him and there was plenty of space for him to move around.

His flesh was charcoal black, with cracks of yellow energy running through every part of his body. A huge metal mask with the expression of a leering grin hung from his face, obscuring his expressions. Sunken red eyes sat in the back of the mask, staring out blankly at the world.

The great beast of a warped elf carried a massive morningstar, a long metal club adorned with hundreds of spikes. He wore no armor, adorned instead in great robes that were too tattered to flow. Eldritch symbols of blue and red glowed upon the robes, indicating the beast had many charms active to protect him.

“Fuck me, I’m out of here!” Perfellow shouted at the top of his lungs upon spotting the great monster.

This caused the Bishop to stir. He glanced up from his blank stare, eyes lolling towards me. Perfellow flew from us, running aimlessly towards the exit but the wall of magical energy had already gone back up. We were sealed in here and wouldn’t be leaving until that great beast was dead.

Favis flexed his right arm, slamming the huge morningstar right at Perfellow. The soldier screamed in terror but I intercepted.

Leaping in between the club and the man, I held my claws out and caught the weapon. The mighty strength from my bracers flared up and I pushed back, straining to protect my idiot follower. Perfellow fell to his knees and crawled away, uselessly dropping his weapon.

Why the hell was my reflex to save my follower? Damn that Hector, if I had been more in control I would have taken advantage of the beast’s distraction but instead I had to leap in like some kind of hero.

The Bishop let out a loud grunt as he lifted the club high in the air, pulling me up along with it. I scrambled along the weapon, using the spikes as footholds, making my way to his wrist. Both claws sank into the exposed flesh, causing bursts of yellow light to erupt from the bishop’s flesh.

The light burned me violently and I felt everything within my body burst into a panic. In an instant, I was fleeing from the monstrous elf, running mindlessly away.

“Stay strong!” Orlin shouted, even though the man was rooted to the spot in fear. He held his staff towards me and a beam of black energy coursed into my flesh. Instantly, a dense fog of dread came across me, dampening my panic. I was back in control, able to swing around just in time to avoid a slam from the giant warped elf’s club.

A violent beam of energy was cutting out from the wound in the giant’s wrist, but he was still perfectly mobile. He swung again and again, focusing only on me. My Amber Armor’s upgraded kit made dodging him rather easy and I zipped from left to right, zigzagging out of the way of each strike. The ground shook with each slam and the marble cracked, sending shockwaves through the ground.

Orlin raised his staff and let out an incantation, causing the warped elf to suddenly freeze in midair, his motion stuck mid-swing. This gave me enough time to rush his leg, drawing my spear and thrusting it into his right ankle. Beams of light came bursting out but I was far enough, thanks to the length of the spear, to where I was able to avoid it.

The giant unfroze and stomped at me but I was simply too fast. Three more stabs caused neat explosions in the sides of both his legs, blowing out chunks of flesh in the process. The giant staggered and fell to one knee, letting out a roar in agony. Still, he was far from down.

Despite dropping to the ground, he still had a club and made good use of it, this time aiming for Orlin. He swung hard and the mage had no chance to react – except for the fact that Perfellow was nearby. The guard threw the wizard to the ground just in time, the club narrowly zipping above their heads.

“Good man,” I said as I ran past the pair, slashing at the bishop’s exposed elbow. My spear stabbed the socket, causing a rupture in his flesh. A larger beam of light burst out from beneath his arm, cutting across the ground towards me.

Before I scrambled out of the way, an idea struck me. I opened up one of the glass vessels and held it in place as I waited for the light beam to reach me.

Shoving the glass bottle beneath the beam immediately caused the entire vessel to glow. Tremors ran through the entire thing, causing me to hold on for dear life. The energy from the Bishop was being pulled out now, sucked into the bottle.

The Bishop Favis was paralyzed from this. He stood, in mid-swing, unable to do anything as I pulled the energy into my bottle. How long would this hold? If I ran out of space, the light would go on to obliterate me, unless I were fast enough to pull free another bottle…

Thankfully, the beam broke before the bottle. The giant regained momentum and continued his swing as if he had never been frozen, smashing the ground where I had been. I was running circles around him now, new bottle in hand, old one on my belt.

Flares of light burst around the warped elf’s head, spells from Orlin that clouded his vision. I took full advantage of this and leapt onto the giant’s back, spearing him with one claw and holding the bottle against the wound with the other.

This worked extremely well, as no damage came pouring out to me and the bottle filled quite quickly. The warped elf bucked and roared, reaching his arm back to seize me, but thanks to my armor I slipped right out of his grip. I scurried up his grasping arm and leapt from it onto his shoulder, stabbing him right in the neck.

“Enough!” the Bishop roared as he grabbed me and threw me clean off, light flashing everywhere for a moment as the wound opened wide. I hadn’t been fast enough to grab a new bottle and found myself sailing through midair. “I know not why you are here, but I tire of these games!”

He slammed his morningstar straight at me but I had the advantage of teleportation on my side. I simply blinked out of the way as he swung, then reoriented myself landing on the ground with a spring forward. I charged him and leapt upwards, thrusting my spear towards his exposed belly.

Spectral hands reached up and grabbed hold of the giant’s arms, prying them apart for just a moment, giving me the time to get my weapon in good. I took advantage of the lack of response by digging the spear in hard and dragging to the left. This ripped open the giant’s stomach and freed all of the light within.

I hastily uncorked every bottle I had as the entire room lit up. My body burned for a moment and then, darkness returned. The vessels on my hip all glowed with ancient energies, the Witch Light now captured.

Chapter 32

The Bishop warped and shifted, shrinking in size rapidly as the light left him. His body was rapidly restoring to a regular Witch Elf’s condition and thus I held off from striking. I had almost forgotten the terms of my contract stipulated I take the heart from his body – using a cursed knife. The blade had been sitting snugly in my possession this whole time and I hadn’t thought about it once. But now as I saw the Bishop return to his normal self, the cruel weapon returned to my mind.

“W-what happened?” Favis asked as he looked at his hands. “You took the light?”

“That I did,” I said as I strolled up to him. The witch elf looked frustrated and confused at the same time.

I afforded him no more questions as I speared him in the side of the head, dropping him to the ground. Quickly, I drew the blade and did the deed, cutting out the still-beating heart.

“That’s one hell of a trophy,” Orlin said as he walked up to inspect my handiwork.

“Part of the contract,” I replied. Bishop Defeated! 1,500 Discordance gained! appeared in my vision as I placed the beating heart into a jar. I placed it on my hip next to the rest of the light. “I take no pleasure in this.”

“Hey, I’m a wizard, don’t justify me why you need a spare heart,” Orlin replied, chuckling as he took out a pipe. “I’ve had my fair share of midnight digs.”

“Is it over?” Perfellow asked as he walked up to us.

“I ask that as well,” I said, looking around. There was a window nearby that had a full view of the empty lake. The cloud was right upon us now. I could already see buildings falling apart, their ancient history uprooted by the wrath of the gods.

Anger welled up in me as I watched this. How dare they excise the architecture as well as the people? Slay the bodies for all I care but total scorched earth? This city was a place of beauty, there was none like it in the rest of the world. And now it would be just a crater, an empty patch of dirt next to an empty lake.

“We must go,” I said. “This land will break apart any minute now.”

“You must return the light,” a voice said from behind. I could sense Pierre before he even entered the room. “I fear I must insist.”

I turned around to see the man was wielding a censer like it was a flail, spinning it to ward us off. He looked comical for he was tiny compared to the rest of us. Even Orlin was stockier than him.

“Calm yourself,” I said, putting a hand up. “I seek no trouble with you or your church. The last thing I want is for another group of holy rollers to come after me.”

Pierre let out a sigh of relief and dropped the weapon immediately. “Oh thank goodness. I knew I’d be slaughtered almost instantly.”

“That you would have been,” I agreed. There was a tense moment in the air as I walked over to give him the bottles. Was I tempted to take one for myself? Somewhat, but at the same time, I knew doing so would condemn me to a lifetime of dealing with these Witch Elves. Best just leave it alone here and now. I was here for a contract and nothing else.

And so I handed the Witch Light over to one of the Estas Keepers. With my contract sated, I no longer had a purpose within the Silver Salt City. A shame for it was a beautiful place, full of treasure. I would have liked to plunder it to the very depths.

But there was nothing to be done. I could not assault the gods – yet – and so their judgment would have to stand. Orlin, Perfellow and I made our way out of the city, plunder in hand and a sour taste in all our mouths.

“I think it’s a sentimental thing,” Orlin said once we were atop the cliffs we had met, “But I think I want to watch the city be destroyed.”

“Would be a once in a lifetime opportunity,” Perfellow added, looking at me as if I were in charge of his every action. I suppose in his mind I was.

I nodded at this and joined them, standing at the edge of the cliff as we watched the clouds slowly roll over the city.

I don’t know how long it took, minutes or hours, but the city fell. Every last inch of its glorious citadel destroyed, first smashed through by the great dragon within and then disintegrated by the cloud. Eventually the entire city was absorbed by the smog and the last outline of a black building vanished. The Silver Salt City was officially gone. What would become of the light within? The denizens? I do not know. But I suppose those weren’t my concerns now.

A burden seemed to leave me as I watched the city vanish. My contract had been fulfilled, though I wonder in the end if it mattered. Would the Bishop have died in the judgment? Or perhaps the light was his only way to survive. That would explain why he stole it.

The last task for me to see to in this ordeal was to return the heart and the dagger to my client.

Fellik of the Willow was waiting for me within the Bleak Pyramid, biding his time in absolute isolation. He spoke to no one and stayed in the chambers provided to him, meditating endlessly. I entered his sparse room to find him fully packed and ready to leave.

“I take it you know I have finished my job?” I asked as I walked in.

The witch elf bowed to me. “I received word of the Light’s restoration. All is right.”

“So you say,” I replied, handing him the jar with the heart within.

“Why do you speak so?” the man asked.

“The gods have judged your city. It is now in ruin,” I said. “It is doubtful that any would have survived such a thing.”

“If the light has been restored, our people will return and rebuild someday,” he replied. I could see he took the news as truth and he was trying not to react in front of me.

“Doubtful,” I said. “But alas, the job is done. The contract fulfilled. I have gained a great deal of treasure from my time within the city. More than that, I have learned how to handle myself against foes of extreme strength. I thank you for the work. Should you have any further needs, look elsewhere. I have had my fill of contracts, I am home and ready to conquer.”

Chapter 33

My return was triumphant and I received an excellent welcome. The Cult of the Veil had been busy while I was away and they showed off a great many of their projects, one after another. Most of these were of no interest to me, but they were offerings and tributes to the Unliving God as I was referred to. With each gift, I received a portion of greater worship than normal. I was beginning to feel it.

The sensation was small, but something I could monitor now. A growing seed within me. The divine spark wasn’t fully complete yet, however. I was lacking the many requirements necessary to grant me power – namely Shrines.

A Shrine was an extension of a god’s power as well as their domain. For each temple and shrine erected, for every ground consecrated (or unhallowed in my case), a tie to divinity, a divine stake would be made. If other energies did not or could not challenge those ties after a period of time, the collected worship would solidify into Theurgistic Energy, or Theurgy for short.

Theurgy was the lifeblood of a god. It was like discordance except far stronger, far more stable. Rather than rely on perverting powers that already existed, Theurgy was generated by living followers. The shrines functioned as a means to capture the majority of this energy. Angels and demons respectively carried these energies then to their gods, safely ferrying them through troubled waters. The energy would then be used to empower the god’s abilities, often blessing the followers.

Most clergies were aware of this relationship between the gods and the followers and thus were often rewarded the greatest for their fealty. After all, a high ranking cleric was the only link between a deity receiving their due worship and nothing. I wonder what safeguards each god used to keep their people from going rogue. I suppose one would have to be rather insane to even consider such an idea.

There would not be enough Theurgy generated by the cult in this time to give me anything close to a divine power. I had thousands of followers, but their devotion was still weak. They were sequestered within the pyramid, waiting for the day their god opened up the walls and announced the land was theirs. It wouldn’t be until every last man, woman and child within my organization received a parcel that I would be able to begin aggregating magic. The real power was within generational worship.

Humans had a short lifespan, making them prone to changing religions much faster than the other races. The gods were keenly aware of this and thus spent the majority of their time squabbling over human worship, hoping to convert a new generation to a different faith. If one generation turned, that would be potentially millions of souls worshipping, in life and after it. The trouble was in securing the true faith of that generation.

If I gave them all land and gold, gifts and power, held nothing back and gave everything, these people would more than fear me, they would depend upon me. Their gratitude would be endless and if it wasn’t? Well, I wasn’t afraid to take back what was mine. After all, nothing they had was due to their own work.

This would ensure the generations would remain faithful. Stay within the fold, get riches and power. Leave for even a moment and be excised swiftly. This would be the best way to ensure the worship of millions for hundreds of lifespans.

Anna had listened to my ambitions with great interest. She had fallen deeper into her role as the High Priestess, taking tattoos upon her wrists and beneath her breasts that bound her energies even closer to me. Many lovers adorned her bedroom now and she lavished pleasure and pomp upon herself and them equally. A lifetime of servitude to those who gave her only a boot on the throat had finally been undone and she was free to be herself now.

We were resting in her bedchambers. She was buried beneath pillows silk and naked women, most of whom were dead asleep. Hector did not mind the view one bit, though it annoyed Velking that Anna was meeting us in leisure. Who was I then? If these two were squabbling like children, lusting and shaming the other for lust, what was this thing that thought these very words?

The question caused me to feel somewhat out of body as Anna leisurely drank from a jug of wine, allowing the liquid to pour down her lips. Feelings were coming back somewhat and they were strange. “Are you alright sir?” she asked, putting the jug down. “You have grown quiet from your recounting.”

“Just a moment of disjunction,” I said, standing and motioning for her to follow. The woman grumbled a little as she snaked out of the pile and into a robe. She had put on some weight, which was good to see. The woman had been nothing but ribs when I had taken her in. Now she was growing full and happy.

Being away from the women seemed to ease the squabble within me and I was able to concentrate on the conversation. Anna and I walked through the halls of her private abode – she had an entire floor to herself. We passed a shrine of worship and I paused to look within. There were numerous prayers pinned to a statue of me.

“What is this?” I asked as I approached. A feeling of warmth washed over me as I drew closer to the shrine. The statue radiated with true faith and I could feel the Theurgy soak within me. My flesh grew…easy. The urge to move, the incessant pain, all of it faded as I walked into an area purely dedicated to myself. For a moment, a single second, I felt like a person again. Everything and everyone was gone and I was me. No Hector or Velking, just I.

“A shrine,” Anna said, interrupting the moment. Instantly, the sensation was gone and my mind returned to the troubles and ills of the world around me. “And these are prayers from the higher ups.”

I tore one of the papers off the shrine and gazed at it. It seemed to gleam with otherworldly words as I read it. Please give me a child, it read.

“The hell am I to do with this?” I snorted, shoving it to her.

Anna took the paper and read it. “Fertility is a common need. People want children and you’re going to need to give it to them.”

I gestured towards my nethers. “I’m afraid there is nothing for me to give.”

“Har har,” Anna replied, pulling her robes tighter as she frowned. “But I’m serious. If you want to know the number one prayer we had to deal with in the church, it was either for a baby or a safe childbirth.”

“You are misinforming the people of my power if they think I a fertility god,” I said. “I intend to bring them wealth and prosperity through blood and steel. Amber and thunder. Let them find children from the stork.”

“If you seek godhood, sir, you must have the power to answer prayers,” she replied without demurring. “And that includes something like that.”

“It feels that if I had the power to grant them such a desire, I wouldn’t be in the position of needing their worship to begin with,” I said.

“Then you must begin your ascension. The people will pray to you for only so long. Stagheart has managed to sneak into our camp with his promise of children. Until you can counter his power, people will fall to him.”

I pondered this. “Stagheart’s cult is still here?”

“They are,” she said. “Culling his influence with a blade would be unwise. He goes after couples, so that their love for one another keeps them from speaking the truth.”

“And this god is after my worship?” I asked.

“And your cult. Your land. Everything,” Anna replied. She motioned for me to follow her to another room.

“I suppose it was only a matter of time before the divine parasites started to show up,” I muttered. “Tell me, is this a threat that’s best kept in front of us?”

“What do you mean?”

“I am under no illusions,” I explained as I walked beside her. We entered a large side chamber that had dozens of figures painted on the walls. They were each of a different god. Every god was sorted into a pantheon and they were separated by alignment. Good, neutral and evil. Celestial and Terrestrial. Evil Below and the Ascended Good.

I tapped on the picture of one of the gods. “There are always going to be gods opposing me, yes? So it may behoove us to have our enemy where we can see them, rather than getting rid of them for good.”

“I believe insulation is possible,” Anna countered. “But it will take time. The best way to defeat a rival god isn’t to slay their followers but steal them back.”

“Or just kill the god,” I said, looking at the list in front of me. This could very easily be seen as a hit list by the wrong kind of person.

“That would be far-fetched,” she said, shaking her head. “Deities are impossible to kill by definition.”

“Perhaps,” I said. “But perhaps no one has tried hard enough before.”

Chapter 34

Anna had been busy while I was away, preparing the path to ascension as she called it. The list of gods and goddesses was for me to begin familiarizing myself with the Great Pantheons. If I were going to be able to ascend, I would need to do more than just aggregate enough followers. I would need to create a few divine pathways in the cosmos, known as a Portfolio.

A Portfolio was a divine slate, a creative power that drew from the cosmic realm and achieved something terrestrial. It was the power of the Portfolios that granted a deity their actual control over the real world. Without one, a god was metaphorical and conceptual. As useless as whatever the Estas Keepers worshipped.

The gods each kept a few portfolios, though the number did not particularly determine the kind of worship they received. The quality of worship was just as important as quantity, and a god of a single portfolio domain could be just as powerful as a multifaceted goddess.

The trick was getting a hold of a portfolio. They could only be transferred willingly and the creation of one was rare. So rare that the last time it happened, it resulted in the upheaval of almost every major faith for a few hundred years. This was when Epheris had formed Death beneath the eyes of all other gods. But even then, Epheris was actually a Terrestrial god, one of the creators who had ‘surfaced’ to fix some wrongs.

If enough divine power was aggregated around an idea, if enough Theurgy could be collected at a single point, Anna theorized that it would be possible to create a new portfolio using modern philosophies. A band of philosopher mages had been gathered to discuss the various concepts that didn’t exist within the domain of the gods and a few ideas loosely floated around. Either there were hidden gods around these concepts or they just didn’t exist. If that was the case, I might be able to create an entirely new portfolio.

Otherwise, I’d have to bargain for one. That would require me to have something a god would be willing to trade divinity for. And the chances of finding that would be next to impossible. At least, without worship.

“It may be possible,” Anna had said, “to trade worship for a portfolio. Some gods are weak and need followers, so much so that a boost of worship would give them the power necessary to rebuild their faith.”

Of course, in order to do that, I would need enough power to fight a god outright. I wondered aloud if such a thing were possible, only to be chided.

“Deities don’t fight each other,” she had said. “That is the one rule you can’t break. They outmaneuver each other with followers, they take from each other’s shrines and they war on earth but they don’t directly fight. It’s undignified.”

I had told her that I cared little about the dignity of the gods but she rightly pointed out that if I offended all of the gods by coming into existence, I’d be fighting them off for all eternity. Some deities still held grudges that were eons old. I was free to do as I pleased once I took the throne but until then, I needed to follow at least a few of the etiquette rules.

Returning to the plan, Anna and I determined a pattern of attack. My ambitions to seize control of the entire Cursed Land interested her greatly. An entire country worshipping a single person would amplify his chances of reaching godhood beyond anything else. More than that, it would also begin a trend within the world cultures.

With a state, the Cult of the Veil could begin to export missionaries out, spreading the word about the rewards and power I had to offer any who joined. I wasn’t discriminating, I’d take any lousy son of a bitch out there, but I knew once I had a country, the people who would be converting would be those who needed great favor. Princes and kings even.

That would elevate me even higher in the world’s view and give me access to even more followers. Ultimately, a play for godhood was in a way, a small play for world domination. Though the goal wasn’t total and complete ownership. I just needed a presence. A slice of the gigantic pie.

The practical matter of capturing the territory was of great concern to Anna but I was not so worried. My time with the witch elves had given me a tactical edge and I was ready to test my might out on the battlefield.

We had a mortal army of 3,000 strong, most of which were capable spellcasters and clerics. The rest were an assortment of ex-paladins and fighters recruited from Sandrake’s Tomb. A steady flow of mercenaries came in from the desert territory and we could increase our numbers if needed, but I didn’t think they were necessary. After all, we had an undead military to back up our skilled operators.

Necromancy and undead clerics were popular choices of class for my followers. Belief in the general ordered principles were enough to grant clerics spells and so they were able to worship me while still accessing a plethora of high level animation magics. Between these and Fidelio’s academy of overeager necromancers, we had tens of thousands of undead soldiers.

The orcish wars had continued long and hard and our collection of bodies had piled up. Between that and the amount of corpses available for purchase on the black markets of Lepidonia (such markets always thrived during wartime), we were nearly 35,000 undead strong.

Our ability to control the dead was limited by the amount of clerics on the field. I wasn’t nearly high enough rank to field an actual army of minions and thralls, so I relied on proxies to raise and control the corpses. This wasn’t ideal but there were no easy solutions for mass undead control that were within my reach. Fidelio’s answers almost always involved large quantities of discordance, something that couldn’t be generated easily.

Still, I was confident in our capabilities to handle a battlefield. Our foot soldiers lacked self-preservation, meaning they could just move straight into the enemy and inflict mass casualties. Anything we lost we could just raise up again later. Hell, we could raise the downed enemies as well.

The only question that remained was: who was the enemy? During my time, the political borders had shifted once again and the realm was far from having reached a modicum of stability.

There were six factions currently warring with each other. There was no clear winner and the territorial lines were constantly changing. Three separate warfronts existed and it was a quagmire on all sides. No one side had a clear advantage. But they were all overextended and weak. A single blade cutting into the affair could make all the difference in who took power.

Anna had suggestions as to who to ally with or who to seek out to work with but I did not care for such an idea. Politicking was beneath me. I had an army, personal strength and a band of high level casters. I intended to take every last inch of the Cursed Land for my own, factions be damned. They would either surrender or die.

The Fallen Star wasn’t impressed with my boasting but did consider my plan seriously. It was possible, she had suggested, to cow the majority of the factions into backing down with a major assault. If we used our full forces in a strike on a heavily fortified position and took it in one fell swoop, it would defang one faction while also scaring the rest. Not to mention it would extend our reach.

One such target was Kaeon City, a once-human settlement that was taken quickly by the Vampiric Legion – the unified banner of all Vampires. It seemed that the major vampiric clans had all settled their differences in order to seize control of the entire country. Kaeon was captured by the bat folk, greater and lesser vampires swarming the place in a matter of hours.

The Legion had the backing of the neighboring country of Burgonia. The King of Burgon had apparently sent a battalion of soldiers, 5000 trained knights, to aid the vampires in seizing the country. No doubt he was an opportunist looking to gain some new land for his own nation.

The city was currently under siege by the second player in the fight for supremacy – The United Remnant, a faction of Banshee Loyalists who wanted to restore their lord to her rightful place. They had tried a few times to lay siege to our pyramid but I never opened the doors, so they couldn’t break in.

In order to gain a foothold nearby, they turned their troops towards the Legion’s newest headquarters’: Kaeon. Now the two were in a deadlock, the front gates open but hotly contested. The United Remnant was mostly composed of human necromancers and high ranking Dead Lords who were now nobodies, desperate to gain control once more.

Combined, these groups had the resources to throw bodies at the city, using the same strategy I was hoping to employ: sustained, overwhelming force. It was working, albeit slowly. The two had been deadlocked for nearly a month now.

This was the perfect place to make my debut in my armor. A well-defined front, full of enemies and a city to plunder. Would I be able to capture it? I think so. We had the forces and the preparations, we just needed a transportation method to reach the battlefield. And that was where Orlin came in.

Orlin knew his portals quite well. More importantly, he knew how to open up portals to new locations, as long as he had access to a major power source. The Pyramid had a connection to my portal network, allowing him to weave an entirely new access point to half a mile from the city. The perfect place to stage our assault.

Chapter 35

“You have no idea what this place is like,” Orlin said as he walked beside me. “The food and the drinks! And the women! They’re so eager to do things I didn’t know were even possible!”

“I am glad you are satisfied with our arrangement,” I said, trying not to feel jealousy towards him. He was enjoying all of the pleasures of the Cult, things I could never experience again…no, not never. Godhood was the way out of this undead nightmare. That moment back at the shrine…the brief second of normalcy. It was a milestone that I had to concentrate on to keep sane.

“More than satisfied! I always thought evil cults were full of whipping and people tearing flesh off but everyone’s so normal, so calm,” Orlin continued as he waved his hands, opening up a portal.

We had to travel to the edge of Kaeon City ourselves, in order to open a new portal rift. Orlin had everything necessary to make a one-way, stable portal that would allow our troops to move into position rapidly. We were stationed on a hill, high above the rest of the city. The fighting was on the south and we would be coming in from the northwest, effectively behind everyone.

The purple rift opened up, expanding to the size of a barn. Immediately, hundreds of corpses began to shamble out, their orcish bodies reinforced with all manner of alchemical and magical ingredients.

“We save the flesh tearing for our enemies,” I replied, watching the fighting below.

The Vampiric Legion had control of the city, great walls of bone raised high to cut off the enemy from advancing anywhere but a central location – the gates. Currently, hundreds of knights and vampires were in between the gates, holding the line against thousands of zombies. The fighting was brutal and corpses were stacked up high on both sides but neither gained an inch. They were deadlocked in a fight neither side could back away from.

Several clerics emerged from the portal, wearing helmets that mirrored my own. I had not found a helm while within the Silver Salt City, which was fine. This was a custom job, meant to inspire my allies and put fear into the hearts of others. It would have been a shame to get rid of it.

“Spread out and prepare the troops for an attack,” I said.

“What’s the target?” Vizier Ophid asked as he approached me, bowing deeply.

“Take the forces and send them straight into the back ranks of the United Remnant’s forces, clean through them and push into the city,” I said.

“As you command!” the Vizier said, clasping his fist to his chest before turning around to relay my orders.

The Viziers were the war commanders, high ranking members of the cult who had been properly vetted, not just for serving in a fight but also for serving as executors of my will. They were each dedicated to me through a variety of rituals that empowered them greatly in exchange for keeping my favor. As long as they served me, each Vizier would have access to a much wider range of spells than normal for their class.

My army was fresh but green. They were full of warriors and fighters who were dedicated to the cause, mostly mixed in with the ranks of corpses. What would their fate be, should they die? I was no god yet, they worshipped me in the hopes of raising me for greater power. Or perhaps they had no world in which they died, for they were relying on me to keep them alive in this fight. If that were the case, I should not stand at the back, but at the front. I wouldn’t send them to be mulched without offering myself to the fray as well.

“Orlin, keep the back secure,” I said. “I don’t expect anyone to press on this position but defend it nonetheless.”

“You’re going in there?” he asked.

“You didn’t think I’d send my people to simply die, did you?” I replied. “The Unliving God suffers along with his people, that is for certain.”

The wizard seemed impressed by this. He nodded to me and I felt a bit of reverence reverberate off of him. He was beginning to believe in me as something more than a mere mortal. Interesting. Was he aware of it?

I pushed to the front of the lines as we made our way down the hill. “Lord Velking!” Vizier Appalio said, surprised to see me. She was carrying a flaming mace and had the power to compel the zombie hordes around us to attack any single target. “What are you doing here?”

“Keep the faith, Vizier,” I said, patting her on the shoulder as I walked past. “And you will see something truly marvelous.”

The back ranks of the United Remnant were dead ahead. We were coming in from the northwestern flank, far enough to where no one would notice us until it was too late. If anything, we just looked like a detachment of allies showing up late.

There was a wide gap between the enemy army and my own forces, though. A plain that would take nearly twenty minutes for the shambling corpses to cross. The enemy could notice us by then and might have time to send a detachment to meet our men; if that were the case, we’d slow down too much for my taste.

Sword in hand, armor gleaming in the sunlight, I sprinted forward, clearing the plain with ease. “Sir!” Appalio cried out but it was no use. I had no interest in holding back.

Hundreds of zombies were ahead, sturdy undead specimens crafted from years of talented necromancy. Claw and blade cut through them by the dozens before they could even react to me. Hands and arms thrust at me, uselessly attempting to pry at my armor but I was perfectly safe. They had absolutely no chance.

I went into a wild frenzy, sheathing my sword and unleashing my claws. The zombies were useless against me and I was just one enemy; the crowd didn’t even notice until it started to thin considerably.

“Forward! Forward! Forward!” a human soldier shouted as he turned back just in time to come toe to toe with me. He yelped as I seized him by the collar and lifted him up. “Oh gods!” he screamed.

“Tell the commander of this army they have until I reach them to surrender, after that, there will be no quarter,” I said to the man. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes,” he said, “I do!”

I released him and he quickly fled to the group ahead, screaming for help. The enemy soldiers, human warriors from the looks of it, barely had time to react by the time I was upon them. I carved through their ranks with ease, zipping through spear and sword alike, easily taking heads off with my claws.

The humans broke faster than I would have anticipated and they began to flee towards their allies. The great bone gates loomed above as I pressed forward, chasing after a horde of soldiers like a baying hound. Those who dropped their weapons and fled were spared – I wouldn’t sully my blades with unsporting kills. However, anyone still holding a sword or shield was a target.

I reached the first encampment of the United Remnant within minutes of our forces crossing the clearing. They mopped up any remaining survivors and the necromancy unit quickly came up from behind, raising the corpses of the zombies to serve their new masters.

The Remnant’s camp was well fortified. Trenches had been dug out, leading to a central wooden fortress that had been erected atop the tunnels, serving as a central access point. It seemed the engineers were busy tunneling under the city; human sappers were armed with shovels and alchemical explosives to aid in their work.

The majority of the guards was posted atop the fortress, their crossbows mounted onto the sides of the walls. The thatched roof of the fort concealed their position to those ahead, allowing them to fire indiscriminately at the melee in the frontlines. Everyone was still focused on the front, even with the news spreading of a threat coming from behind. They were too sluggish to respond to our presence.

I was at the entrance to the first long trench, where dozens of support beams had been erected to keep the tunnels up and reinforced. I briefly considered smashing through the beams but realized this might cause the fortress to collapse and then would block off our troops from moving through it. Better to just clear through the area and take it for ourselves.

Fourteen soldiers ran straight up to me as I advanced, packed together tightly with their shields raised up high. Their spears were over the shield, posed to strike anyone who got close. They moved in perfect unison and the quality of their shields suggested they were far better than the dregs I had scythed through earlier.

“Halt!” one of the captains shouted at me. The defensive wall spread out to block me from advancing.

“Seems you’re specially trained for this,” I said.

“You have no chance, Revenant!” the captain shouted at me. “Stand down!”

I scrambled up the trench wall and simply ran past the guards who were below me. I leapt back down into the pit beside the captain, spearing him right in the heart as I landed. I tossed the body into the group of soldiers, casting Detonate Corpse at the same time, and watching as the explosion tore through them.  Those who survived the first blast didn’t stand a chance against the zombie army that had finally caught up to me.

Chapter 36

Our forces caught the United Remnant by complete and total surprise, ending their siege in the process. They tried to stand against the tide of forces coming in from behind and the front but it was too much. They broke and the few Dead Lords, who were once great powers, were gutted and slain like dogs in the gutters.

I tore through the fortress without relent, finding each high ranking official and skewering them with claw or spear before they could even register my presence. There was barely any Discordance to be gained from these killings, points and fractions of a point, but we were gaining tremendous ground.

“Please!” a man said as I turned the corner, coming face to face with none other than Targen of the once great Necromancer’s League. His eyes went huge as he registered who I was.

“You ready to pass the Oblique Boundary now?” I asked as I slammed him hard against the wall, of the fortress, cracking his head hard against the wood.

“Don’t kill me!”

“I’m going to,” I said, my claws tightening around his neck. “You betrayed me. You and the others. But I’ll let you come back, I won’t bind your soul, if you tell me why.”

“You’re…too powerful,” he wheezed. “One man shouldn’t command so much strength.”

“You should have sided with me,” I said, releasing him. “Now cast your last spell.”

The man nodded gratefully at me and began to cast something. He weaved his fingers together and pulled an invisible cord around his body. “There, I’m ready,” he said.

“You recognize my mercy?” I asked.

“I do,” he said.

“And you’ll forget?”

“I will,” Targen said, swallowing hard. I could see the fear of death deep in his eyes. He knew his transformation to the undead path would be horrifying. The party of life was over and undeath was just beginning.

I speared him in the head and tossed the corpse aside. Whatever undead creature Targen was planning on returning to was of no interest to me.

Why did I spare him eternal damnation? Why give him his last rites? One might see this as a mercy but to me, it was a mere courtesy. The undead kingdom was my world and if he wanted to join, so be it. That was one soul denied to the gods, one soul now free to do as it pleased. Provided it had the strength to return, that is.      

Would he come after me? It was doubtful. If anything, he may join me. After all, there would be nothing left of the United Remnant when I was finished today.

We took many prisoners, most of whom were slaves that had been recruited from the Banshee’s prisons. The majority of them was easy to convert to our side and those who held out were fed to the dead.

With the trench fortress secured, we now had a base of operations that would give us an even greater advantage over the city. The tunnels were already dug and the sappers had been circumventing the wall for some time now, opting to blast their way through the bone instead of trying to go beneath it. This was due to the fact that there was no telling how far the bone wall dug into the ground; it could be feet, it could be miles. The nature of magic made it impossible for them to tell.

Our forces lost considerable steam once we stopped to take control of the fortress. Our zombies were unable to navigate quickly through the trenches and anyone who attempted to move on ground above were shot down by the archers on the walls, of which there were hundreds. Skeletons soaked up arrows just fine but a few choice shots to the head could kill a zombie. And these vampiric archers were crack shots, each one of them.

We were forced to send our ranks through the trenches into the open gate of the city, just for the sake of occupying the enemy. Did they notice they were fighting a new force yet? It was hard to tell. But they certainly would notice us as soon as our strike force broke in from behind.

A band of ghouls made short work of the bone wall, our claws sharp enough to dig through several inches at a time. Eventually we made it through the eight feet of solid matter to the other side – the streets of the city.

“Scale the wall and kill the archers at the top,” I instructed my ghoulish brethren, Sir Garen among them. Sadly, he had lost his personality once my soul had returned, all sense of connection and camaraderie I had with him was gone. He was just a husk, same as any other ghoul I had created. A real shame.

The detachment of manhunters began to scale the walls as I led the rest of my forces forward. Our target? The fighting at the gate. I wanted to break the siege wide open and I was going to do so with a pincer attack.

It may be sheer folly to fight through one enemy and into another, but it was also something of legends if I could pull it off. Even if I failed the siege ahead, we’d have already knocked one faction off the board completely. Anything else would be a simple addition to an already complete victory.

With that in mind, our forces pressed in from the hole in the wall, surging towards the enemy knights.

It appeared the King of Burgonia’s forces were the ones stationed to protect the interiors of the gate itself, for there were many armored knights holding their own easily against my zombie forces. “Clerics and mages, advance,” I ordered to a nearby Vizier, who quickly gave the order to the rest of my people.

Our spellcasters began to throw spells at the back ranks of the knights, catching them off-guard entirely. Summons and illusions appeared beside me as I charged into the horde of warriors, slashing wildly at anything and everything.

These men and women were built different from the others. They were not afraid of me, nor my army. Instead, a battalion of knights, nearly three hundred, assembled in the wide street, banding together and rapidly pushing onto our own position. I met them with my forward warriors and we clashed hard.

The full plate armor of the knights was enchanted and our strikes were weak against them. The magic managed to break a few of their ranks but whenever one knight would fall, three more would advance forward to protect their own. They fought with enchanted longswords that burned with green flames, smiting anyone they touched.

I found myself engaged in titanic combat with the bunch that I had dived into the center of. Their armor was resistant to my claws, so I found myself wielding a sword, blocking and parrying blow after blow. My own armor was strong enough to absorb many hits from them and I could feel the blades bounce off of my suit.

“Knights advance!” a captain yelled, pacing back and forth behind the ranks. He was holding a horn in one hand and a longsword in the other. Two hundred more knights began to pour from the walls opposite of us, a garrison containing a containment force.

“We’re outnumbered!” Vizier Nolimo shouted before he was speared through the neck by one of the knights.

“Orlin,” I said, reaching out to my newest lieutenant. “Deploy the Bulwarks.”

Immediately, three portals opened up above me. Orlin had keyed to my exact position and was waiting for the command.

Three huge bulwark abominations came falling out of the holes in the sky, their massive bodies seizing everyone within sight, friend or foe. Our warriors fell back without my command; they couldn’t advance with these monstrosities on the field.

Each abomination was made from a dozen of the largest giant corpses we could find, their bones reinforced with metal and their arms augmented with dozens of smaller limbs to seize hold of their victims. Tendrils emerged from their backs, spearing knights through the chest, draining the life-essence from them in a matter of seconds. This left nothing but empty shells scattered through the arena.

The knights fell back, overwhelmed by the assault. They were skilled fighters but nothing could stop an abomination from getting a meal and they were eating everything in sight. A single zombie broke through the front ranks as one of the bulwarks ran straight into the gate entrance, crashing through hundreds of packed together soldiers.

Bodies flew everywhere as corpses began to press through the holes in the defenses. The dead were relentless, moving forward atop each other as they flooded through the gates of the city. The soldiers fell back, their armed superiority thwarted by raw strength applied at the right pressure point.

We were in. Now the only question was whether we could stay long enough to take the city.

Chapter 37

The vampires began to bomb us early on. The knights of Burgonia retreated into the castle of the city, where a second wall had been erected, this one made out of magical energies that were impossible to tunnel through. We had killed hundreds but there were thousands more, now garrisoned inside the castle.

The streets of the city were ours and we spread out, quickly overpowering any exposed enemy garrison we could. But within an hour of our taking of the ground level, the explosions began.

“The bat bastards are bombing us!” my Vizier had shouted as one of the nearby bulwarks was annihilated by a cluster of alchemical weapons. Above, the vampire forces were flying in their bat form, carrying bombs and dropping them before flying back into the shield.

“Do we have the numbers to win?” another Vizier shouted. They all looked fucking identical due to their helmets. I needed to fix that later.

“Get to shelter!” someone else called out.

Our forces fractured instantly as the explosions rocked the city. The vampires didn’t care if they destroyed their own people or their own property – it was rapidly becoming a scorched earth situation. Towers and buildings alike fell atop our dead, creatures who were far too slow to scramble out of the way.

The living forces were still trying to navigate through the gates of the city when the bombing had started and they were forced to retreat back to the trenches. The enemy didn’t venture past the city, now that we had taken control of the walls and had archers posted.

The breakdown of war was immediate and chaotic. I lost control of my forces rather swiftly once the bombing began and after that, we had several different positions, all of which were now under siege from a counter-offensive force that was coming out of different pockets of the city.

I didn’t know how to handle this interruption in the chain of command beyond simply taking control of my own unit and making a press towards the castle. With four hundred warriors and three thousand corpses behind me, I called the assault forward.

Casualties were piling up everywhere as vampires dove in and out of combat, their forms changing from bat to humanoid in the blink of an eye. They would land, begin fighting in a frenzy and vanish the moment our forces were able to respond. These hit and runs were targeted towards our mortal warriors, slowing us down on the main road leading up into the castle.

My troop was attacked by a swarm of vampires but they were less successful than other groups. This was due to my interception of the special forces before they could get to a single warrior on my side. The fighting against vampires was far harder than normal mortals but not nearly as tough as a witch elf. I managed just fine.

“Enough of this!” a woman called out from above as I skewered the last vampire. I glanced up to see a vampiress, wearing a long red cape and armor covered in gold dragonscale. She flew with two long wings that jutted from her back but she otherwise looked human. “What is it that you are after?” she demanded.

“Unless you’re here to surrender, I’m not interested in discussing anything,” I replied, leaping up to slash at her with my sword. She flew backwards, the wings pushing off the air.

As I sailed upwards, I activated the Fly spell on my armor, lifting me up to meet her. I swung a few times, forcing her to block each slash with her own claws.

“I have no authority to call a surrender,” she hissed as my blade clanged against her grey, fleshy claws. They were strong enough to take the blow and return a few hits to me, one slash breaking through my helmet. “But why are you here?”

“I am here for the sheer hell of it,” I replied, punching her in the side of the skull with my claw as I rebounded from the blow. She rocked backwards and I switched my rapier to a spear, charging forward to get another hit in. “And without a surrender, I don’t give a damn what you have to say.”

“Fine!” she cried out, throwing her hands wide and shutting her eyes as I drove the spear inches towards her skull. I stopped at the last moment, seeing that she was doing nothing to fight me. “I surrender.”

“Was that so hard?” I asked. We floated down to the street where the rest of my forces had gathered. With the vampires dead, our troops were continuing their march up to the shield. They couldn’t generate magic perpetually, so I would throw body after body at the damn bubble until it went down.

“You’re the Royal Revenant, aren’t you? The one who captured the Banshee and started this whole fucking thing!” the woman said, tilting her head as she examined me. “Good gods, what is your problem? Everything was fine in this country until you came along.”

“Not for everyone,” I replied. “And not for me. Now then, who are you and how can we get into this castle. Tell me and I will let you go.”

“You think I’d sell out my own kind so easily?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Tell me and I shall grant you a castle of your own,” I said, motioning to show that I could give as easily as I could take away.

The vampiress grinned. “Now that is more like it. Those jerks sent me out anyway, so fuck them.”

She sounded quite contemporary compared to the other ancient dead I had met. “I’m Slyvia,” she continued. “And there is an alternative way into the castle. One the shield can’t cover. It’s through the sewers.”

Ghouls liked the sewers. I reached out to Sir Garen and dispatched my wights to begin their descent into the network beneath the city. They would find their way in soon enough. And when they did, they’d be able to disable the shield system. It was probably a band of mages keeping it together, so they just needed to be scattered.

“Thank you for the tip,” I said. “Should this castle be standing at the end of the battle, it’s yours.”

Sylvia snorted. “I’ve heard interesting things about you. They say you’re mad as a hatter and crueler than any devil. Why give me something when you could easily just put a claw to my head and make threats?”

“Why do anything at all?” I asked. “Because I recognize value when I see it. I have no ire towards my foe, truth be told. I simply intend to conquer the Cursed Lands entirely for myself. Everyone else be damned.”

The woman’s eyes went large at that. They searched my own blank expression for some hint of comedy but could see none. “You’re serious? You want to take this land for yourself? An entire country? That’s mad!”

“I’m only mad if I fail. If I succeed, they will call me Emperor,” I replied. “And there’s always room for vampires within my kingdom. Do you know a Zigfried? I am a friend of his…or so I should hope I remain.”

“I do know of him,” she said. “Man’s dead as a doornail I’m afraid. His loyalties to you got him skewered.”

Damn. That was a shame. “You’ll be killed too if you keep up this madness,” Slyvia continued. “Give up and negotiate a peace with the Vampires. I’ll be happy to smooth everything over.”

There was an earnesty in her advice. “Tell me, ma’am,” I said, turning and motioning for her to walk alongside me. The vampire was no more my prisoner than my guest at this point and so I had no care if she fled. But Slyvia remained and eagerly walked beside me, listening to my question. “Are you religious?”

“A strange question to ask a vampire,” she said. “But yes, I suppose I am. I serve Eskaton, of the Eight Below.”

The vampire god. The most recent addition to the pantheon as well. His descension into infernal divinity had been quite the shakeup in recent times.

“How deeply?”

“As deep as it will give me power and life,” she replied with a shrug. “I pray not to him nor do I revere him. But if you were to ask who my god is, then I serve Eskaton. And thus keep to his people and traditions.”

“Is there an established faith of his?”

“Their church gets annihilated regularly by the Lodanites,” Slyvia said. We stopped in front of the great bubble that blocked our forces from getting in. The daylight was high above us, which seemed to herald the cessation of bombing. The explosions stopped rocking the city and everything grew still. Perhaps the ghouls had reached their target.

“So that’s a no?”

“There are some cults here and there but they get minimal power,” Slyvia replied. “What are you getting at?”

“Nothing in particular,” I lied. “I just want to know what you believe.”

“I believe in survival at all cost while also keeping face somehow,” she said. “And I know you are not speaking truly with me. Do you serve one of the Eight? Is this a sales pitch?”

“The Monarch of Bones is my lord,” I said. “Though he is impotent and silent. He takes no power from me and gives me only what I have already earned.”

“Don’t say that, you’ll be struck dead by him!” Sylvia hissed, backing up.

“What?” I bellowed. “The Monarch of Bones is a coward and weak!” My voice echoed throughout the now empty city. Nothing happened. If the god below was able to affect me, he would have done so when I first set out for godhood.

“You aren’t afraid of your own god?” she asked.

“I fear nothing,” I replied. “For I have already conquered death. What more shall stand in my way?”

Chapter 38

My conversation with Slyvia was cut short due to the blaring of horns in the distance. A small cadre of men with horns approached from inside of the shield, waving a white flag. In the midst was a Greater Vampire, a lanky fellow who was more humanoid than bat in his current form, though he was still nine feet tall.

“That’s Crenshaw,” Slyvia whispered. “He’s the leader of the whole pack.”

The boss was here to see me? This was either a parley for a formal surrender or a blustering match. I was curious to see which was which. My ghouls were still moving beneath the city, there was some resistance within the tunnels. It wasn’t enough to stop our operation but did slow them down considerably. Curious to see a parley around the same time we started encountering heavier resistance down there.

I ordered my forces to stand down, sending the warriors to the back ranks to show I meant no harm to the other side. Slyvia and I stood alone in front of the negotiation party, waiting for them to arrive. They made it to the front of the shield and, without hesitation, passed through.

“Velking!” Crenshaw barked as he staggered forth, unevenly moving in his hybrid form. “How dare you! How fucking dare you!”

“You address me by name, but you forget the title,” I said. “Shall we try again?”

“You are no Lord! No King!” Crenshaw shouted. “You’re nothing more than a parasite. A little worm that ate too much and killed its entire host.”

“Have you come to harangue me?” I asked. “Because I am in no mood for bickering. I recognize those flags as white. Am I right in interpreting you wish to surrender?”

“Oh, you are quite incorrect!” Crenshaw said, snarling as he bared his fangs at me. “I am merely here to negotiate a cease to the hostilities. You will not be able to break through our shield anytime soon. Keep whatever land you’ve already taken and leave us in peace.”

“Why are you offering me what I already have?” I asked.

“Why are you even here? They killed you!”

“Death doesn’t seem to stick,” I replied calmly. It was amusing to see the sheer emotionality of the vampire. He was probably one of the nobles from a great clan, one who had lost the most during this entire affair. I felt no urge to make his friendship, however, and would offer him nothing. “You insult me greatly by coming here, making demands without paying any proper tribute. Whatever your terms are, I reject them.”

Crenshaw went to speak but I interrupted him. “Would one who is an authority of the King step forth?” I shouted towards the human guards who were escorting the vampire. One tall man immediately took a step forward.

“I am Deputy to the King’s Army, sir,” he said.

“Tell your men they are free to leave, all of them. Take their gear and whatever treasure they please and they may walk out. Anything a man and a horse can carry is theirs,” I said.

If blood could drain from a vampire’s face, I witnessed it right there. Crenshaw turned to look at the surprised deputy. The man eagerly took the deal. “Er, wha? Yes, yes, sir!” he said, bowing to me. “You are most kind.”

“Tell everyone you know, my feud is within the country. Foreign mercenaries will be expelled but treated with dignity if caught. Only the dead and those who worship them need fear me,” I said. This was no lie.  It was a mere angle of the truth that I wanted the King of Burgonia to understand most of all. I didn’t give a damn about his nation. I was just here for the land. The men would hopefully return with more than enough treasure to make up for his expedition.

The soldiers quickly broke from the vampire’s ranks and made their way back into the castle, to spread the word.

“I didn’t really need to negotiate with you,” I said, grinning. The hole in the jaw of my helmet no doubt showed off my ghoulish smile. “I merely needed the backbone of your army to know their options. Tell me, Crenshaw, how many vampires are willing to die for a patch of land that isn’t even theirs to begin with?”

The man replied by turning into a bat and fluttering off, into one of the windows of the castle. Messages from my ghouls began to come to me. They were on the inside now.

“You seem to be a lot smarter than I thought,” Slyvia said as she stood beside me, watching as hundreds of soldiers began looting the castle. Vampires were fleeing through windows and chimneys, no longer interested in bombing us.

“Morale is the most precious resource a military can have,” I said. “I strike the heart so the rest of the body dies easily.”

The shield flickered. Once, twice and then gone. “Charge, you surly sons of bitches!” a Vizier yelled, snapping to attention as he realized the shield was down. He scrambled forward, leading the rest of my soldiers in a frenzy towards the castle.

“I don’t appreciate my people being slaughtered,” Slyvia said.

“Make an offer, and quick,” I said.

“Peace for a thousand years? The Legion vanishes from the face of the earth but not from Lepidonia,” she said.

“This castle is yours,” I replied, gesturing towards the great building. “Do you wish to offer them safe harbor?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “On behalf of the Legion, I will surrender and keep them in this castle. A thousand years of peace.”

“Oh no,” I said, shaking my head at that. I very carefully put two claws against both temples of her head. “Peace eternal. Or silence eternal. Choose.”

Chapter 39

The Vampiric Legion agreed to my terms unilaterally. Well, those who received the message in time. Those who didn’t were cut down ruthlessly, though they often put up one hell of a fight.

Our victory at the city was total and complete. Kaeon City was captured, though the castle was ceded to Slyvia as per the terms, but they quickly incorporated the vampire state as a vassal to the Veiled Kingdom. One of our many flags, this one a serpent biting a hand, was hoisted above for the world to see.

And the world did indeed see that Velking was back. Shortly after I took control of the city, word began to spread of my conquest. I received an official message from the King of Burgonia negotiating a truce of twenty years’ time, one I easily signed.

Burgonia was one of the smaller states, made up of a larger empire that was almost always a decentralized mess. There were constant wars and civil wars that erupted across the Pelatic Empire, making kingship more of a burden than a joy. The few kings on the outskirts who had managed to keep their cities strong and wealthy had done so by making very few enemies.

The King undoubtedly feared some kind of retribution from an undead monster on his own lands. This would cause the Emperor of Pelatia to lose his temper, as he would blame the king for the invasion and replace him. Or worse, he’d pull his protection back from Burgonia’s territories, leaving the king to fend for himself.

His weak position gave him many reasons to agree to peace but what he didn’t realize at the time was that he was legitimizing my empire in the process. The Veiled Kingdom now had an official treaty with a neighboring nation – this meant we were recognized by the entire Empire of Pelatia. Most nations looked to Pelatia’s politics to make their own policy, meaning we could potentially begin working out deals with other countries. Lepidonia wasn’t going to be able to make it on its own, after all. Not after this devastating war.

The population of the entire country, not just the people within the Pyramid, was my responsibility. Whether they liked it or not, they were living in my realm and as such, it was my duty to feed and ensure they could live peacefully. Chaos energies had ravaged this country long enough, but I was here to bring Order and in a big way.

The easiest way to get my foothold as both god and leader of the nation was to give the people bread. The peasantry, mostly mortals who were either too poor or too stubborn to leave the nation, was starving by the millions, which incidentally was killing off the majority of vampires as the blood supply dried up.

The Vampiric Legion had recognized this problem and thus had captured Kaeon in order to grow food. Vast swathes of farmland overlooked the south of the city and there were no land barons any more. The vampires were intending on building a centralized farmland here, to ensure the peasantry was fed but their plan had a major flaw in it.

Vampires didn’t need their mortal cattle to be healthy, just alive. The calories needed to keep a human alive were disturbingly low and the vampires had calculated their numbers based on a minimal quality of life. I needed my humans more than alive, I needed them fat and happy.

Food was what kept a population from losing their collective shit at their ruler. This was something I knew as a street sweep more than anything. There are good times and hard times, but the hungry times are short. Because when the people are hungry, they’re too pissed to do much of anything else other than riot.

Sufficiently feeding the entire population of Lepidonia as it stood currently, would require more than one city. We’d need to control at least one fourth of the farmlands, especially in the northern territory where sugar grew in marshes. Sugar was white gold; one pound was worth twenty pounds of wheat. If we got our hands on the marshlands, we’d be able to easily export our sugar to the neighboring kingdoms – using our credentials as a recognized nation to secure the trade.

These ideas came to me as I surveyed the plans Slyvia had rescued from the fire. She was eager to help out, namely because she was tired of the chaos and wanted the world to go back to the dark stability that it had once enjoyed. With the vampires plan to build a breadbasket slightly modified, I had a new goal and a new target: capture the Sugar Marshes of North Mengen and then bully our way into the next front twenty miles away.

The Vampiric Legion and the Undead Remnant were both knocked off the game board in one fell swoop, sending shockwaves through the remaining four factions. One battlefront broke off entirely with the Jade Wolves and the Dreary Serpents respectively falling back to secure their territories.

Both factions commanded the majority of the land within Lepidonia and had the most to lose from a surprise contender. They were both to the north of my pyramid, making for an easy campaign to carve through either group’s territory. Already, thousands of undead were marching across the countryside, attacking any military force they found.

The portal was moved into Kaeon and we simply allowed an endless stream of dead to pour out at all hours of the day. Thirty-five thousand was a lot of soldiers to put together coherently but once they were all outside of the city, things became much easier.

Flags were raised, the polebearers trained in expert flagging language. They would use these to silently communicate to the rest of the army, the meaning of the colors known only to the higher ups within the Cult of the Veil.

I stood on the wall to the north of the city, watching as my battalion moved slowly across the land, their orders to march straight to the Marshes. Anna sat on the edge, peering out at the undead soldiers. “I never thought I’d see such a sight,” she remarked. “Those are my soldiers out there.”

“That they are,” I said. “And they are marvelous. You have outdone yourself in equipping them for battle.”

“Our casualties were few and far in between,” she said. “But those who have died did so in fealty to you. Their souls have been properly captured within the Pyramid.”

“Is that the promise then?” I said. “Endless sleep within the banshee’s realm?”

“The banshee is a prisoner of the pyramid as much as any other spirit,” Anna replied. “Binding our people to the Bleak is the only way we can continue living after death. Otherwise, we shall be reaped by devils.”

“And so they trust me with their souls so deeply that they are willing to exist in a hideous state of unrest?” I asked. This disturbed me.

“It is no hideous state. The Pyramid provides darkness, something akin to slumber. Trust me, I did my research on it. There is a reason the Liches use pyramids. They contain the soul like a body does, comfortably,” she explained. In the distance, flags began to change rapidly. Contact was made. I stood and craned my neck, zooming in with my demonic vision.

A band of heroes had gathered to fight the undead. They were not winning. “Life eternal appears to be an exaggeration of what we can offer,” I said. “If the Pyramid is all I can give them.”

“It’s more than what most gods give,” she grumbled. “Because the saints are all told they serve in death. I’d kill for a peaceful afterlife.”

“You shall have it,” I said. “That I promise.”

“Word is going to spread quickly about you,” Anna said, changing the subject. “Are you ready to handle things on a bigger stage? I worry we might be expanding too fast.”

“I will not keep half of the territory I take,” I admitted. “Unless I am able to cleverly negotiate with every state around me at once.”

“And the possibility of that?”

“It depends on the outcome of the next battle,” I replied. “If I can successfully take the Sugar Marsh, we’ll have capital. Sugar is worth a fortune to any bidder and we can trade peace for a proper export of it.”

“Yes, I read the vampires’ dossier on the subject,” she said. “I might have an idea about that. But it’s dicey.”

“How so?”

“Well, you’d be dealing with some of the worst sons of bitches to ever walk the earth. Real capitalist scumbags,” Anna explained, standing up. She reached into the satchel of her robe and produced a small medallion. It had a symbol of a lion-headed man sitting upon a throne, and beneath that throne was the world itself. “The Leonmarketter’s Guild.”

“Leonmarketter?” I repeated, taking the medallion and examining it. It was made of very fine gold.

“It’s fancy term for a peddler, nothing more,” Anna said. “They’re thieves and thugs who run a merchant’s guild that’s tough enough to fight entire countries.”

“Sounds like our kind of people. Are they for sale?”

“No, but we are,” she replied.

I motioned for her to continue. “Sir, it’s like this. The Leonmarketter’s Guild has their finger in every pool out there, from vice to gambling, prostitution to protection rackets. They are the furthest thing from squeaky clean but they like to present that image. So all their criminal dealings are done far from home. They don’t ever fuck around on their home turf.”

“So a state that has zero interest in policing morality and gambling laws would interest them greatly…” I said. “They could safely send all of their clientele to our lands.”

“That’s my thought,” Anna said. “The only trouble is that the Leonmarketter’s are just as likely to rob you as they are to negotiate unless you were their trading partners a few hundred years back. Their loyalty is only to the contract and they don’t make a lot these days.”

“Why bring them up if they’re so unreliable?”

“Because they’re also fielding an army for the Dreary Serpent,” Anna replied. “And unless we make a course correction, we’ll be meeting their mercenaries sooner rather than later.”

“Serpent must be giving them something,” I mused. “Something valuable. Can we find out what it is?”

“All divination efforts have failed,” she said. “Whatever is motivating the Leonmarket to come here and muck around in this business has to be more than mere coin though. They aren’t the kind who send mercenaries for pay. They send mercenaries either to conquer or to secure their own assets.”

“It’s possible they have something worth protecting in this cursed land,” I floated. “Something preexisting.”

I thought back to that gigantic black market that I had once been a part of (as merchandise). Lepidonia already had a loose set of laws governing it, with the kings barely able to keep their own control of human lands, let alone undead enclaves. I could imagine the crime syndicates would have quite a fortune stuck in this place.

“Get your horse,” I said. “Let’s see if the Leonmarket is interested in striking one hell of a bargain.”

Chapter 40

Land Seized! 500 Discordance Gained! appeared in my vision as we rode across the land. My spectral horse made no noise, neither did the dark steed that Anna was upon. She had kept her mount as a fallen paladin, her faith in me restoring her old abilities enough to bring back the class abilities she had lost.

An entire city captured and all I gained was a mere five hundred. Truly this country was becoming starved. My only hope was to gain more Equilibrium by bringing order to Lepidonia. And that started with stopping these endless and pointless fights breaking out across the land.

The Leonmarket’s camp was dead ahead. We were faster than a messenger could bring notice to them, so our presence was a surprise. The camp was heavily armed, a thousand soldiers strong, so they weren’t particularly worried about two individuals. Anna and I were brought back into the tents to meet with the Lord Commander of the military unit as well as the Bank Monitor.

Bank Monitors, as they were called, were extremely well connected financiers who had the full authority of several banking establishments to make investments. They were often extremely well educated individuals who were skilled negotiators or retired statesmen.  A Bank Monitor was an important person and not the kind who would travel without a private army.

It wasn’t until I was sitting before Lord Commander Garett and Monitor Jodie Roberts that they realized what I was.

The Lord Commander was a fit military man, with fine mutton chops and a strong chin. He had many medals upon his chest but despite this, he seemed to sit with a relaxed humility, like one who had nothing to prove.

Monitor Jodie was a slim woman, from Renzetto perhaps, with a very large book in front of her. She flipped through the book at all times, making adjustments and muttering to herself in a completely foreign tongue. My undead abilities allowed me to understand all speeches except for hers. Was it made up self-speech?

It wasn’t until Garrett replied in the same tongue that I realized it was indeed a language I could not comprehend. Odd.

“You are a ghoul,” Jodie sharply said, glancing down at the papers on her desk. She wrote a few things down. “And the woman worships you.”

“What the Monitor means is that we know who you are, Revenant,” Garett said. He shared the desk with his companion, though it was large enough and sectioned for two people that it didn’t look awkward. “And we understand you have brought your lieutenant.”

“I meant what I said,” Jodie said. “Ghoul and worship.”

“You are not wrong,” I said. “I am the Unliving God.”

“God my ass,” Jodie said. She dug into her shirt pocket for a moment and produced a gold coin. “You wanna see god? Here, meet the bitch.” She tossed the coin directly to me. I caught it in amusement and placed it on the desk.

“Cash has its uses,” I said. “But the real money is in commodities.”

That caused the woman to pause from her writing. She looked up at me. Her eyes were a light blue and they seemed to strike me without fear. She had no care that I was an undead monster. She was an equally unfeeling creature. A ruthless banker who would do whatever it took to earn her due. That much was clear.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Sugar,” I said. “What’s it worth to you?”

“Sugar is controlled by the West Cane Company, you can’t get us a better deal than what we have,” she said.

Was she being coy? No. She didn’t know about the marshes. They were here on different business. But what, pray tell?

“I happen to know of an alternative source,” I said. “But I would be reticent to share it without knowing what your Leonmarket is doing here.”

“The Market is interested in securing their interests in Lepidonia City,” Garrett said. “We’ve got many assets that are currently holed up, unable to leave. We are aiding the Dreary Serpents in their fight with the Jade Wolves with the hopes of clearing a pathway for our people to get out. The Serpents control the interior of the city while the wolves control the other land. It’s more or less a hostage situation for our people.”

“How much of your military composes the Dreary Serpents?” I asked.

“That’s classified,” Garett tried to say before Jodie interrupted him. “All of them. The Serpents don’t know how to handle their own military affairs. They’ve relied on our contractors to fight on their behalf completely.”

“I figured,” I said, grinning. The Dreary Serpent was more of a wheeling and dealing type of organization. It was doubtful they’d have the ability to field a military themselves, but they would almost certainly have the resources to hire one. Or to pull one powerful force in with a mutual struggle. “Seems that my arrival is going to be problematic for your people.”

“How so?” Jodie asked. The Lord Commander grew quiet and shrank back. It was clear the Bank was in charge. But then again, wasn’t that always the case?

“I command a vast army of undead. We intend to capture every last inch of territory that makes up the Cursed Lands. The Serpents control and battle for control of resources that could be yours, if you play your cards right,” I said.

Jodie sneered at those words. “Please, your forces won’t stand a chance against the Leonmarketters. We have the best gear, the strongest soldiers and the greatest assortment of magics the land has ever seen. We will annihilate you.”

“Perhaps, but how many losses will you sustain in the process?” I asked. “Because my forces aren’t living. They are mere corpses, shambling forward under the compulsion to eat and kill. They feel no pain, they recoil from no strike. For every ten of ours you kill, we will kill one of yours.”

Jodie grew silent at that. She frowned and bit her lip in thought. “Those numbers mean we will take a significant financial loss. What other arrangements did you have in mind?”

“What’s your deal with the Serpents?”

“If we secure their interests and breach the city, our people will be released and escorted to safety but there are no guarantees,” she said. “They were insistent on it. No promises. Everything fiat. No paperwork because they didn’t want to be on the hook.”

“That doesn’t sound like the Serpents,” I said.

“A lot of leaders have died due to the Banshee’s disappearance,” she said. “Your handiwork. Yes, it’s been chaos ever since.”

“I apologize,” I said. “But I had to fight for my own freedom. The consequences were far reaching but not unintended.”

“I can never fault someone for doing business for their own good,” Jodie replied. She closed the book and folded her hands over it, looking at me curiously. “I have heard rumors of your cult. Stories of strangers being rescued from werewolves, wounded being healed, hungry being fed. It’s caught my attention more than one time.”

“Is that so?” I asked. It was good to hear that my reputation was truly preceding me.

“Yes. The Cult of the Veil seems to be everywhere. And now they’re in front of me,” the Bank Monitor said. “No doubt an offer in hand. What do you wish of us?”

“A simple offer. You move your troops aside and let us take command, we will go in and rescue your hostages,” I said. “No strings attached.”

“If I move my troops aside, they will have our people killed for certain,” Garett protested.

“No, no,” Jodie said, putting a hand up to quell her companion. “Not in the least. The Dreary Serpent wouldn’t dare cross that line. They have made it very clear that our people are hostages of the other side, not them. Trust me, no one is insane enough to make a move against the Leonmarket. I mean, look at this man? He fashions himself a god and he’s here to do business.”

Garett looked at me. “You think yourself a god?”

“Do you believe otherwise?” I asked.

The man shivered at that and looked away. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, standing to leave.

“Sit down, Garly boy,” Jodie said. “You don’t get to scuttle away that easily.”

This name clearly pissed the Lord Commander off, enough so to turn him red in the face with rage but he did nothing. He merely swallowed air, hard, and sat back down.

“Good boy,” Jodie said. She looked sharply at Anna. “Is your dog as well trained?”

“You want to see my bite?” Anna asked.

Jodie grinned. “Maybe later.” To my surprise, Anna grinned back and they exchanged a look. Perhaps Jodie had heard more than just rumors of my cult. She seemed to be interested beyond the curiosity of a mere businesswoman. No doubt she had ambitions. Was my presence a newfound way to gain those ambitions? Perhaps so.

Chapter 41

My arrival to the Leonmarket was fortuitous for many reasons.  Jodie was a fierce banker, one who regarded every coin in the world as her own, they just hadn’t been collected yet. She ran this entire division of the Leonmarket, nearly 15,000 soldiers and thousands of attendants whose job was to earn her coin after coin.

All of her soldiers were accountants first, she had boasted. Everyone understood the name of the game was to earn as much money as possible while minimizing losses. Their time serving in the Leonsknetch was a reward for their hard work. These jobs paid incredibly well, offered tremendous spousal benefits and guaranteed employment for future generations of each soldier. To spill blood in service of the Market was to ensure one’s blood would always work with them.

These were not simple mercenaries. The Leonmarket did not think itself as a guild or a company but as a country, a sovereign power on its own. Therefore, the men and women employed in the Leonsknetch were not mere soldiers but were also citizens. They had the privilege to purchase from the market, as well as the right to vote for their own fates.

This didn’t make the market a democracy by any means. The Bank Monitors ran the show with absolute authority, votes simply showed them what was the most popular decision. More importantly, votes allowed the Treasurers to keep an eye on the overall morale of the people and ensure that the ship sailed smoothly.

Jodie was proud of her division. The military quarter that she ran was ruthlessly effective and well outfitted when it came to fighting the undead. She pulled from veterans who had once served in Lepidonia’s military, not to send to the front lines but to train her soldiers. Their insight was invaluable when it came to fighting the Jade Wolves.

These wolves were splintered factions of werewolf clans that were interested in regaining dominance over the land. They had long been at war with vampire-kind and saw the destruction of the Banshee as the opportunity to gain the upper hand.

There were plenty of other werewolf clans that decided to simply draw back and wait for the rest of the conflicts to play out before joining any side. Jodie had negotiated peace treaties with all of these groups, ensuring they would stay out of the territory she captured. Anything the Leonmarket could get its hands on, it would own.

This had been part of the terms the Dreary Serpent had offered. This was why the Market was here to begin with.

It took some time to get Jodie to open up but eventually the woman told me her grand scheme. She was rather pleased with herself, for it was the opportunity she had been waiting for her entire life.

While I had been concerned with sugar in the marshes, there was a far sweeter plant hidden deep beneath the city of Lepidonia. In underground tunnels, with glowstones mimicking daylight, hundreds of Ominar bushes were growing. They were tended to by insectoid creatures that knew no loyalty. Anyone who came in to take the harvest would be greeted with pounds upon pounds of the stuff.

I knew nothing of this Ominar when she mentioned it. But Jodie’s eyes grew with delight as she explained what it was.

“A plant! Small nuts grow from within the leaves. When they are harvested and ground into a fine powder, they can be ingested to cause the greatest of bliss. True relaxation, the ability to float on the clouds, completely unbothered by all of life’s woes. Ominar powder is worth a fortune and gets its hooks into people deeply. The richest of the rich buy it all up and then crave it for the rest of their lives.”

She was speaking of a drug. Ominar powder was unknown to me for a reason; every major kingdom had outlawed it. More than that, divisions of soldiers were known to raid any building on even the smallest suspicion of an Ominar plant. The stuff would be destroyed before it could ever reach a point where it could produce a few nuts.

The plant itself was also famously stubborn. Getting it to grow properly was nearly impossible and the conditions required to set up an Ominar operation were so specific that the drug was incredibly rare. The few places that could produce the plant were often raided and destroyed – divination made it incredibly easy to find cultivators.

But in the depths of Lepidonia, in empty tunnels carved by ghouls centuries ago, there was a thriving Black Market Garden, a place where a veritable cornucopia of narcotics grew. From the humblest of Slowleaf to the deadly Whiteplume Fig, the insectoid keepers grew them all.

“Traditionally, the garden has been controlled by various criminal enterprises,” she had explained. “But the Banshee’s death upended a longstanding deal between the King of the city and the rest of us. The place was taken over by the Serpent, who immediately knew the value of what they had grabbed. The politics of the insectoids is nonexistent, they’ll give the fruits of whatever they produce to whoever asks. It’s the one who controls the access door that has real power.”

This was the true reason that the Leonmarket was present within the country with a military force. The Dreary Serpent had rightly recognized the value of the market and thus offered exclusive access if Jodie’s forces were to secure their control of the city. The discussion of the trapped individuals within was a mere cover story to hide the greater ambitions of the Market.

Jodie’s goal was twofold. She was to secure control of the Black Market Garden by any means, then she was to secure some land for her operation. Her ambitions were great: she wanted to control and distribute the products created by the Garden. Doing so would require infrastructure and sovereignty.

“This is where you come in,” she said to me as she finished outlining her plan. We were walking outside, in the murky evening air, strolling up a hill. “For you might be able to help us skip the land acquisition phase entirely.”

“Is that so?” I asked as we stopped at the top. Below, I could see the tents for the soldiers. Hundreds were scattered across the valley, with thousands of soldiers dotting the landscape. Many were running drills and preparing for the fight ahead. They were to reinforce the fighting at the city in less than a week.

“Indeed. Controlling the city is what the Dreary Serpent aims for. They are interested in securing the entire population for their own. The wolves have laid siege in the hopes of gaining control so they can convert the population to lycanthropy,” she explained. “If you would give us permission to operate out of your territory indefinitely, as long as we kick a tax back to you, we can pull our forces back from the marshes. This would allow us to reinforce the attack on the city and hopefully break the wolves’ siege.”

“I have a different plan,” I said, pointing towards the great city in the distance. Lepidonia looked tiny from here. “I intend to capture the city for my own purposes. Pull your forces back entirely and allow me to deal with the wolves and the serpent. Animals shall be put to pasture while those who are more reasonable will deal with me directly.”

Jodie scoffed at that. She walked past me and pointed towards her army. “My soldiers are undead killing machines. You would throw them away so easily?”

“Shall I earn my reputation with another woman’s sword?” I asked. “My forces are my own. I have built them for the purpose of conquering this entire land. I see no need to burden myself with your politics. If you wish to pay a fee to access this Black Market, so be it. But I intend to take control of Lepidonia for my own sake.”

“What makes you think I will have my forces stand down?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“What do you have to gain from fighting against us?” I countered.

Jodie did not care for this arrangement. But she was far from arrogant. No, she understood who I was on some level and she knew how to deal with me. “You make things too hard on yourself. If you ally with us, no one will say ‘he borrows a great sword’. They will say ‘he is allied with greatness. He must be great as well.’”

“You would ally with me on the battlefield?” I asked.

“The Cult of the Veil is powerful. I would ally with them if it were to bring me what I seek,” she quietly said, turning her back to me. I could feel a bit of fealty rise up from her. There was a sense of religion within her heart and she was actively starting to believe in me as something more than just a corpse.

“What do you seek?” I asked. I could sense no need for revenge upon her heart. A shame, that would have been easy to indulge in.

“Control,” she said. “I seek to control the world around me. To solve my problems with the speaking of a word. A god speaks and followers move. I wish to have the same.”

“And wealth has not brought you that?” I asked.

“Money brings so much attachment, so much baggage,” she replied. “I have yet to truly feel in charge of my life. It seems that with every coin I get my hands on, I fight twice as hard to keep it.”

“To those who pledge themselves to me, I offer great power,” I said. “And to one who brings sufficient offering, I will also aid. You have but to speak a single desire, and I shall grant it to you.”

The woman bit her lip at this. I could see she truly believed me. Did I have the power to give her what she desired? I had no idea but it was doubtful Jodie desired anything savory.

“There is a man whom I owe a great sum to, an interest that never stops rising,” Jodie finally said. “If I say his name, will you slay him where he stands?”

“I do not smite from afar,” I said. “Speak his name to me and I shall stand within his bedchambers the next evening.”

“Good enough for me,” she muttered. “I knew you were a scam artist. But it’s a scam I like. Godhood? I can sell that a lot easier than the Market’s philosophy.”

“You think I am a liar?” I asked.

“I think if you were truly a god, you could snap your fingers and take the life of the man,” she rep[lied. “Otherwise, you are nothing more than just a powerful assassin.”

“There are wizards who can speak spells to do the same, are they gods?” I asked. “You did not request a miracle. By far, the thing you have asked is mundane and drudgery.”

“Hey, don’t let me step in on this,” Jodie said, putting her hands up. “I’m way behind you, my Lord.”

It was clear she was not convinced. At least, not all the way. “You still wish to side with me?”

“Of course. I’m no idiot. I know a winner when I see one,” Jodie replied. “I just know you’re running a scam.”

“If you keep your misgivings to yourself, I can see you doing well in the Cult,” I said. “One doesn’t need to believe to be an efficient manager.”

“My thoughts exactly,” she said, grinning as she reached out a hand to shake mine. “Shall we partner up?”

I slashed a few of her fingers off, causing Jodie to fall backwards, screaming bloody murder as she held her bleeding hand. Instantly, I was beside her, my claws against her throat. “Partner?” I growled. “You will keep those stubs as a reminder that we are far, far from equal. Speak to me with familiarity again and I shall end your life. Understood?”

“W-what?” she gasped, tears streaming down her eyes. “Why would you do this? I was complying.”

“No, you thought you were getting the upper hand,” I said. “Now you have less of one. Thank me for the lesson and move on.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said, tears streaming onto the ground as she stared down. The water dripped onto the pool of her own blood and she shivered. Belief was starting to rise from her now. Profound fear of my power, over her own life and over her future.

Chapter 42

Falling in Line! 400 Equilibrium Gained! appeared in my vision as Jodie walked behind me, silent as I inspected the soldiers. The woman had not fled from me, despite my cruelty towards her hand and instead decided to stick around. Her belief grew stronger in me for some strange reason.  Was she looking for a god who had an iron fist? Or was she simply more prone to believe those who had power over her?

Either way, I now had control of the Leonmarket’s Cursed Lands Division. Jodie installed me as the official general, dismissing Lord Commander Garett in the process. He didn’t stick around long to protest, that was for certain. Instead, he took all who were uninterested in continuing the campaign and headed back towards Renzetto.

A vote was taken and Jodie was found to be within her rights to put me in charge. The people liked the fact that I had a huge huddle of undead masses that would absorb the bulk of the enemy fire during the siege breaking. The fact that quite a few cultists were actually members of the Market mercenaries made the vote much easier to control.

Jodie installed two mechanical pistons to serve as her new fingers. One fingertip was even designed to hold a quill easily, allowing her to continue writing without a problem. I would eventually allow her to restore her hand but for now I wanted her to deal with some pain and humiliation. That would keep her from seeing herself as an equal.

My decision to take Lepidonia for myself was not an easy call to make but I decided to try and break the will of the rest of the factions in a single blow. If I were able to capture the biggest city in the region, it would not only give me a stronghold in the dead center of the country, it would also signal to the rest of the splintered factions that I was winning easily enough.

The Jade Wolves were perhaps the strongest solitary foe I would be facing. They controlled the most territory now and were easily able to fend off those who were attempting to move through the woods. A single werewolf was as strong as a hundred men and we would be facing tens of thousands on the battlefield just to reach the first front outside the city. The second front, closer to the city was even harder to get to.

I could see why Jodie was eager to hand this off to someone else. They were stuck in a quagmire. Their forces were extremely dug into the land between the Marshes and Lepidonia, their efforts splitting in the hopes of moving some enemy troops away from the city. This backfired when the fifth faction in this melee, the Geist Vapors, attacked the Leonmarket’s position in the marshes, creating a new front.

The large amount of forces she commanded meant very little, as the Jade Wolves controlled the forests and marshes surrounding the entire region, making it impossible to move soldiers quickly. They would have to fight through every inch of territory just to make it to one of the fronts they had established.

The supplies were diminishing on each front, leaving Jodie with the unpleasant task of a full-frontal assault option. She had gathered her troops here, south of the city, for the purpose of readying a final charge to get control of Lepidonia. She intended on using every last soldier, marching forward in a huge mass to overtake the werewolves, for the Jade Wolves lacked the numbers Jodie had.

It wasn’t an elegant plan by any means but it would work. There were perhaps 14,000 werewolves out in the field and another ten thousand in the Marshes, caught in the three-way battle with the Geist Vapors. Jodie was sitting on 22,000 strong. Their quality and armaments made them equals with the werewolves, provided they were caught in open field combat. In the forest, it was another story.

This was where my own forces came in.

The woods were massive and impossible to move, Lepidonia was surrounded on all sides by marsh and woodlands. With my zombified forces, I could send them out to do combat with the werewolves with little worry about the casualties. Jodie’s hope was that I would send my forces in first, distract the main companies of wolves, and allow the trained mercenaries to reach their target destination.

“What we need is a disease,” Fidelio had said to me when I asked about whether bulwark abominations could handle werewolves easily enough. “Something like Silverfur to cull these bastards.”

“Silverfur?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” my chief necromancer said as he escorted me through the field laboratory he had set up. Dozens of cultists were about, working to bring corpses to life, or mending dead bodies back together for bulwark reanimation. Each gasped and made strange hand signs at me whenever they saw it was their god before them, but otherwise they continued their work. “Silverfur was a noxious disease that caused most of the lycanthropes to lose their strength and agility. Nonlethal, so the powers that be don’t cry about war crimes.”

“How does one go about getting such a disease?” I asked.

“It’s been extinct for a while, the wolf-folk adapted long ago,” Fidelio explained. “You’d need a plague god to bring a good version back. Or a plague wizard who served the right plague god.”

A nonlethal plague that disrupted the wolves’ ability to fight? That might do more than just cripple the foe in the upcoming battle. It might make me a herald of an entirely new fear: fear of disease.

Fear! That was what had floated above Jodie’s head when I had rendered my cruel judgment upon her. The fear was devout but fear all the same. Fear was a kind of belief, I suppose. Interesting. Could I harness more fear to gain power? If so, I should indeed bring something that would cause all mortals to fear my name.

The skeletal necromancer worked on a few bottles of acid while I pondered this. Fidelio had grown weaker and weaker in will as time had gone on. He had come to accept his place as an undead minion, one who would never rise to a high rank again. This was no act either, for Moira had long ago tried to rise up and seize power, only for him to slay her with his own hand. Ironic, for I had once looked to her as a possible replacement for the man.

Now he needed no replacement, as he would live eternal as a skeleton, existing with some degree of alchemical comfort but otherwise, his fate was sealed. And he seemed fine with it. Strange how unlife seems to sap the ambition out of most men when it was what gave me my own.

“A plague would shut things down considerably faster than warfare,” I said. “If you say a god or plague wizard can bring such a thing, I think we should seek out such a possibility.”

“I know of one man who has such power. He is a mad follower of a deity most foul. Trustworthy in his work though. Calls himself a Plaguesmith,” Fidelio said. “An elf, though you’d barely recognize it.”

“Can you conjure him forth?” I asked.

“Summoning him would be a paltry thing,” the wizard replied. “Shall I make the arrangements?”

“Do it quickly,” I said. “I have no time to waste.”

Fidelio bowed and retreated, leaving me alone in the field. I put my hands on a nearby table and stared at them. Something was different. Wrong? Not wrong but something was different. In the air and in the ground…Eris…Eris Lanyer! Eris Lanyer was here!

Chapter 43

Like a hound dog, my senses began to bark, my ears perking up and reaching out far, far on the countryside. A wagon was rolling along, a great black wagon, I could sense it. Within it was Eris Lanyer, the man who had slayed me! He was here after all of this time, in the Cursed Country? Yes, I could sense him so intensely that it was as if I were within the wagon itself.

I pushed through the throng of my followers who had gathered around to watch me. My mind was frantic as the dog within began to bay for blood. Eris had killed me. And now he would pay the ultimate price! It didn’t matter if I died with him, if this vessel’s existence ended, all I had to do was…was…

My claws dug into the ground, hard. I was half a mile away from the camp, followed only by the few ghouls who were compelled to trace after me. Above, the clouds formed and rain began to fall. If I killed Eris Lanyer, I would die. My business on this realm would be over and that would be it for whoever this thing within this body was. I couldn’t allow that.

The compulsion grew greater and I found myself on all fours, scuttering across the countryside. Rain poured gallons from the heavens, flooding the hard ground. Water ran up to my face but I cared not. My target was here. I had to kill him.

No, Velking had to kill him. I wanted to live.

But what strength did I have against my own curse? The Hunger was greater than I had ever experienced and the sensation of Eris’ presence had driven me into a frenzy. I would be unable to do anything other than continue forward.

I had one way out of this mess and that was to use the Human Heart ability to control my Hunger for ten minutes. That wouldn’t be enough time to stop me from running all the way back to Eris, however, so I needed to wait for the right time to activate it. Perhaps I could wound the man in such a way as to allow my ego to be sated. After all, I had him at my mercy once before, right?

Eventually I reached a valley where a cart was sitting. The great black vessel was made of pure iron and had wheels of black wood. Holy auras radiated off of the wagon and the driver appeared to be a phantasm.

I stood tall and walked up to the carriage, drawing my blade and pointing it towards the passenger door. “Come out.”

To my surprise, the door flung open and a man emerged, tall and triumphant. I did a double take but indeed, it was Eris Lanyer.

The man had changed considerably since I saw him last. No longer the lean noble, he had filled out to wide frame, his body muscular and strong. He sported a grizzled beard and held a longsword in both hands. He leapt down from the carriage in front of me, sword at the ready.

“You! After all this time, I have finally found you!” Eris bellowed, his voice firm and mighty. He was not the same man I had once chased like a wild animal. He was hardened now. Strong. Ready for round two.

“You found me?” I cried delightfully as I rushed at him. “It is I who have found you!”

Eris swung his longsword hard, but I easily stepped aside, ramming him in the jaw with my shoulder in the process. He fell backwards, blood spraying from his mouth as he staggered. The blood glowed bright red to me and I felt like drinking it once more. But I was in more control now. At least, in enough control to fight.

I drew my own sword and slashed at the man’s head but he blocked, bringing his two-handed blade up just in time to force my blow aside. It was an unwieldy weapon in his hands, however, and I was able to easily follow up with a clawed slap to the side of his head. This blow rang his bell hard and he fell backwards, dropping his weapon.

As the weapon fell to the ground, his body instantly lost its mass and definition. Even his goddamn hair grew frail and weak, thin and shaggy.

“Fuck!” Eris yelled as he fell onto his back, struggling to get up. All frenzy instantly left me as I watched the man roll back and forth, like a turtle on its back. He was so weak without his magic sword that he couldn’t even bear the weight of his own armor.

“So this is what you learned in the time we were apart?” I asked, bending down to pick up his sword.

The man furiously began to unclasp his armor, not willing to give up. “You ruined my life! You took everything I had!” he cried out.

“Apparently not,” I said, looking down the side of the blade as if I were seriously inspecting it. Perhaps I should take a test swing or two. “For you can afford fancy toys. Though not fancy enough to stop working the moment it’s out of your hands.”

I glanced down to see Eris, pale faced and shaking. He was unable to even get out of his armor. “You did not train. You did not earn those muscles. You did not even know how to wield your blade,” I said, shaking my head. “And you thought you could come face me?”

I knelt down beside him. “I am filled with shame, for you and for myself at having seen you in this condition.”

With that, I carefully cut the bands of his armor, allowing him to finally escape from the suit. He wriggled out of the metal bands and pulled the pieces off, hopping to his feet.

“At least you’re a proper gentleman,” Eris said, reaching out for his sword. “Hand it to me and let us finish this.”

He was ready to die. Not out of desperation but out of embarrassment. If he were to end his life, he would do so with far more sorrow in his heart than now.

Control came back to me greatly as I realized he was in my hands to do with as I pleased. He always had been. The man was weak and useless. This was not a fight fit for a man, let alone a god.

“Your pants,” I said. “Leave them here and begin your march back to Renzetto. Keep your boots though.”

“How dare you!” Eris shouted. “Kill me, for fuck’s sake! I don’t know what I did—”

“You don’t know what you did?” I bellowed back, grabbing him by the shirt and hoisting him up. “You lived a life of pleasure and wickedness, took everything from your fellow man and gave nothing back! Worst of all, you took a life without even a care.”

“I have murdered no one!” Eris said.

“You took the head of a street sweep,” I replied. “Did it so easily escape your memory?”

The man’s head hung down low. “No,” I said, chuckling as I dropped him to the ground. “No, you don’t remember at all. That’s perhaps the best part for me. You have no memory of what you did, not because you are innocent but because you genuinely think so little of the peasantry.”

“This is not the legacy I wanted to leave the world,” he said to me as he climbed to his feet. “You won’t even end my life in a noteworthy manner. What is it that you want? Hmm? What will finally make you end this?”

“I suppose when you kill me, it will be over,” I said. “Because rest assured, I will wait for you to rebuild. I will wait for you to regain your pleasures and joys once more. And I will take each one away from you. Every pleasure you taste will turn to bitterness in your mouth.”

“I will end you! Make no mistake!” the man vowed. It felt good to hear these words. Energy seemed to move between us and I felt more…real. As if his fears were creating my spirit even more. I shuddered as I inexplicably knew the hourglass had more sand in it now. By tormenting this man’s soul, I was gaining back my own.

“You began me,” I said. “So it is altogether fitting. Now, go. Leave your pants and be glad you get to keep your bloomers.”

Chapter 44

I sat on the edge of the abandoned wagon, staring at the bootprints of Eris. The man had given into my silly demands, throwing off his trousers before heading out for the long (and drafty) journey back to the city. I kept his wagon and sword, neither were truly his to begin with. They had been loaned to him by a family friend, one who wanted to help the man get back on his feet. By depriving Eris Lanyer of the weapon, I would make him fail the last noble who would look him in the eye.

This would either obliterate the man or rebuild him into something truly to fear. Part of me yearned for a real confrontation. For a chance to face the man in mortal struggle that wasn’t comically one-sided. Perhaps he would be able to give such a fight to me. Or maybe he would just collapse into self-pity and finally destroy himself…though something told me he wasn’t going to end it. No, he was looking for a fitting end to his own story and dying quietly in the night didn’t seem to be what he fancied.

It was strange how part of me seemed to understand Eris on some level. I suppose it made sense as we were intrinsically connected. But even now, as he trudged out of the country – my country – revenge was brewing in his heart. This second humiliation would not stand. He was vowing to destroy me. For revenge against a being who was entirely composed of such energies. Curiously enough, this seemed to solidify me even more. My resistance to the Hunger grew greater. It was almost as if him carrying the revenge in his heart freed me from my own burden.

I was able to return back to my camp quickly after that episode. My mind was still reeling from the whirlwind of his arrival – how my senses were so sharp I could pinpoint him and I worried that he may be able to use this to lure me into a trap next time. Or was I looking forward to an ambush?

Little had changed in my absence. Streams of the dead were still pouring in from one side of the territory and were moving north in a herd. Here they would aggregate outside the forests, building up forces for the time being.

“You’re back!” Orlin said, appearing at my side as I walked into the camp. Soldiers were everywhere, packing up crates upon crates of supplies. It was easy to tell the difference between a Leonmarket mercenary and a Cult of the Veil member, though some of the Leonsknetch were sporting darker colors than their brethren. Were they converts to my cause?

“Indeed,” I said. “What have I missed?”

“Some fellow who drinks from a skull showed up. Babbled about plagues and dark gods, I figured he was here for you,” Orlin replied, gesturing towards my master tent. “I sent him in there to wait for you.”

“That was quick,” I said, eyes locking onto the tent. Infernal energy, demonic and cruel power, was gathering around the flaps, heralding something foul within.

“Something tells me the man doesn’t have much of a social calendar,” Orlin said as he shivered. “Plague wizards are a foul bunch.”

“Have you any professional thoughts on them?” I asked. It would be good to get some insight before I dealt directly with the man.

“Plague magic requires a tremendous amount of proximity to sickness and disease. While their bodies are immune to sickness, their minds? Not so much. It’s rare to meet one that is sane, though these are rarely the cackling maniac breed of wizard. No, they’re the quiet ones who make terrifyingly long lists of the people who have wronged them. Then one day, they open the jar and all those who oppose them simply fall dead,” Orlin explained.

The old wizard had a sullen look about him as he recounted this. “But it’s a true vocation. A lot of people think they’re sickos but plague wizards don’t just create plagues, they cure them. Contain them. Some lose their minds from the work, sure, but they are a kind of vital force in this world. Without them, the land would be far sicker.”

“Thanks,” I said, walking past the wizard and into the tent alone. This sounded like an interesting kind of person. What variant of plague magician would he be?

The man was immediately distinguished from all others I had seen before. He wore a beaked mask over his face, a long tip nose that made him appear like a bird of some sort. His entire face was covered by this mask; the eyes protected by spectacle-like glasses embedded the armor. Yellow, pale eyes looked out from the mask, perhaps contorted by the coloring of the glasses.

A green cloak covered the rest of his body. A sickening aura emanated from him, making part of me feel uneasy. I was in the presence of real power here.

“Silas,” he said, reaching out a gloved hand to shake mine.

“Velking,” I replied back. I stared at the hand for a moment and the plague wizard wisely pulled his hand back.

“Apologize for the familiarity,” he said, bowing deeply before me. “I did not realize I was standing before a god.”

“You acknowledge me?”  I asked.

“Of course,” the muffled voice replied. The beaked man leaned back up and tipped his hat to me; it was a black, tricorner that was reminiscent of Lepidonia’s fashion.

“You are a flatterer,” I said, gesturing for him to sit on a chair. My frame had no desire to sit, the body ached to move for some unknown reason, but I sat at my new desk all the same. The body recoiled and writhed, my flesh literally moving in place as I sat up.

It was admittedly strange to sit before a great desk, like a manager, but I suppose a godking was also an administrator. I should get used to holding office.

“Would you suggest a better strategy when dealing with someone who can take your head off with a single claw?” Silas asked.

“I suppose flattery is a decent call,” I replied. “Now then, Fidelio speaks highly of you, Silas.”

“I do not speak highly of him,” the wizard curtly replied, crossing his arms. “The man is a foul fiend and one who is better off in his dead state.”

“I take it you’ve spoken to him recently?”

“Hah, glad to see you see the same as me,” Silas said, chuckling to himself. He fiddled with the end of his beak as I continued.

“I am in need of your services. As it stands, the land of Lepidonia is up for grabs. I intend to take it all for myself but the werewolves are…stubborn. I would like something to encourage them to sue for peace as quickly as possible.”

Silas nodded. His expression was impossible to tell from his mask. “Such a thing is within my ability. I have worked with many variants of Silverfur and have, in my time, developed a few strains that are much stronger.”

“What compels you to conduct such research?” I asked.

“Curiosity, I suppose,” Silas replied. He was rather matter of fact. “A disease is a puzzle. As is the cure. They’re both opposite sides of the same coin. To weave one or the other together requires a great intelligence. A focused intellect.”

“And you possess that kind of brain?”

“I hope to one day. These foul sicknesses perplex and confuse me greatly, I sharpen continually with each new development.”

There was humility in the plague wizard’s words. He was not a pompous man in the least. “What is the price for unleashing a bit of hell on the wolves?” I asked. “Nonlethal but weakening.”

“Why not go for lethal?”

“A population’s fear is worth more when they are still alive,” I replied. “And I have a theory that I shall draw great power from the fear created by this disease.”

“A theory?” Silas asked, his voice filled with awe and curiosity. “Are you truly aiming for godhood? This isn’t some exercise in ego?”

“I am ambitious, which some may mistake for a swollen head,” I replied.

“Fascinating!” the wizard said. “A god wishes to bring a disease to herald his arrival to a cursed land. And I am the chosen one to bring it forth.”

“Yes, that is the situation,” I said. Did he so easily believe I was a god? There was no flattery in his voice the second time.

“There is nothing to stop me from going outside and opening all of my plague jars,” Silas said. “But I resist because I understand one cannot make these choices on their own. It is for greater powers to make the decision. And you are certainly a greater power. Yes, I would be pleased to introduce a plague upon the werewolves. Something to break their defenses…”

“And your fee?” I asked.

“Permission to write this down,” he said. “Freedom to document your ascent. Permission to move about your cult without fear of being sacrificed horrifically.”

“We do not practice sacrifice,” I said. “But your demands are simple. I grant them all. How long until you are prepared?”

“You insult my art,” Silas replied as he hopped up. He took out several jars full of liquids and began to immediately sort through them. “This is nothing more than a mere combination of elements, a few spells and then…”

“Wait, are you doing it now?” I asked. I didn’t have time to back up or move as the man poured vials of awful magics and diseases into a single bottle, then shook it. Wizards were prone to explosions and I braced for impact. Nothing happened, however.

“There!” Silas said, holding up a gleaming bottle of green liquid. “This should do the trick. It’s a Spellpox. Airborne. As soon as it touches the air, it will replicate quickly.”

“And I am to believe you are capable of unleashing widespread hell in a matter of seconds?” I asked.

“My dear deity, I regret to inform you that destroying all of creation is much, much easier than putting it together in the first place,” Silas replied. “This won’t last long. A Spellpox can be cured through clerical magics and I expect immunity to begin building within days.”

“I need more than days,” I said.

“Do you?” he asked. “For if your goal is to break the will of the lycanthropes of this land, you only need show them you have the power to do it again – and worse this time.”

Chapter 45

“Sir!” Anna said as she appeared in my tent. She was red-faced and furious, pushing through the throng of Viziers who had gathered to discuss strategy. The helmeted higher ups quickly fled as they realized that Anna was angry. It seemed no one wanted to be in the way of her wrath.

“Anna, a pleasure,” I said. She waited until the room was empty before she spoke.

“I just heard that you intend to use a disease on the enemy,” she hissed, slamming both hands on my desk. “Tell me that’s just more wartime rumor bullshit.”

“Afraid not,” I said, showing her the vial. “I intend to release this once our forces are in position. It causes the physical advantages of lycanthropy to erode entirely. Strength, agility and regeneration, all core strengths of a werewolf, gone in an instant. They will be forced to parley.”

“That is biological warfare, sir! You can’t do that!” Anna quickly said. She gripped the table tightly. “Do you have any idea what the rest of the world will say once we unleash this plague?”

“I presumed they would be afraid of me, so much so that they won’t attack me for my land,” I replied.

“It’s the opposite. They’re going to be so afraid that they will stop at nothing to destroy you,” Anna explained. “Sir, this is something I must insist upon. If you use biological warfare, you will be signaling to the rest of the major nations that you hold nothing sacred. A disease is something that imagination can get a hold of and go crazy with. Are you ready to be blamed for every sore throat for the next 200 years?”

Her rage made sense now. I leaned back and pondered this. “You bring a strong counterargument to the table.”

“Plague wizards aren’t rare either,” she continued. “Other forces will start recruiting them. Are you ready to deal with counter-diseases? Stuff that only targets your followers?”

“You are rapidly making a point as to why diseases aren’t used by every nation for war,” I realized. “But at the same time, this would make the siege of Lepidonia incredibly easy.”

“It will make the rest of your existence miserable,” she said, sinking into the chair across from me. She sighed. “I really don’t want to bluster about this but you’ve got to realize we are on the world’s stage right now. Once you take a real city like Lepidonia, everyone will be looking at you. How you conquer is how you will be conquered. Never forget that.”

“What makes a disease any worse than a sword?” I said.

“The world has an idea of what is proper conduct in war, what is sporting and such,” Anna explained. “The culture changes slowly. You’ve been playing by the ‘rules’ of combat so far, so there’s been no reason to object to anything. But the moment you uncork that weapon, everyone will know you’ll do anything to win.”

“Seems a shame to have spent the time to find such a power only to give it up immediately,” I grumbled. “Is there no way we can use a plague wizard to our advantage?”

“Only if you wish to invoke unholy wrath upon us, I say you skip the plague wizard nonsense and stick to what’s been working for you so far: winning through martial strength,” Anna said.

I knew better than to disagree with Anna’s analysis. The woman was knowledgeable about the ways of war and the temperaments of mortals. I wouldn’t upset the natural order of things. Though I suppose it says something about me, that I was willing to do something so ‘ungentlemanly’ without a second thought.

“Very well,” I said. “Let that be nothing more than a rumor swirling about. I shall have the plague wizard sent away.”

“No, no,” Anna said, putting a hand up. “Let us keep him. There may come a time someone attempts to use plague magic to harm our people. Many good gods rely on sicknesses to cull unfaithful or evil followers. Having someone to guard us from being smited isn’t a bad idea.”

She paused. “Sir, you know I only speak –”

“You may speak to me however you wish,” I said. “You are the High Priestess, are you not? Familiarity should be your language with me. They should all know that you are in accordance with my will so much so that you can even change it. This should be the goal of each follower, to be able to speak in such a way.”

“And Jodie’s hand?”

“She is haughty and does not believe,” I said. “Those fingers have taken more gold and written more death sentences than you would first realize.”

Anna nodded. “I understand, sir.”

“Is there anything else?”

There were many things. The Cult of the Veil was starting to get in rather comfortably with the Leonmarket’s presence. Jodie was bringing in several advisors to be installed as Vice Viziers. These men and women answered directly to Jodie and Anna but no one else. Their purpose was to begin moving their market over to the recently conquered city of Kaeon.

The Leonmarket had a whole host of illegal activities that they liked to run in foreign countries with small time dictators and places with no moral fiber. Prostitution and drugs were their exports but their methods of generating local income? Gambling.

Lady Luck was a vicious bitch who had no respect for the wealthy. A bad die roll, an unlucky hand, a wrong wager, all of these brought the thrill of potential loss, something that was addictive to the wealthy classes of the royal world.

From Renzetto to Galious, gambling was the most popular form of entertainment amongst the nobility, though often to the chagrin of the parents of such nobles. Stringent laws were enacted in most major nations, restricting nobles from gambling or only allowing them to participate in games that were pure skill. Dice games like Knight’s Last Knuckle, which was purely random, were extremely illegal because they had a great way of separating nobility from their money. And large portions as well.

It wasn’t uncommon for bored nobles to wager their fortunes on games simply for the rush. And some developed a taste for the rush more than winning money. Those fools were the ones who often searched for casinos that ran real games of chance. Things that could take a fortune from any king and distribute it to the gaming parlor, all the while putting a smile on their face.

The Leonmarket prided itself on two separate operations. The first was to run a gaming establishment on any neutral land where there was no government oversight of their games. This would draw in the customers and allow the market to earn a fortune running chance operations that would never be reliable in the customers’ favor.

Those who were ‘cleaned out’ so to speak, would fall into the second operation of the Leonmarket: credit. The Market was not composed of thugs or ruffians. There was no breaking of legs when money couldn’t be paid. Oh no, debts were forgiven in favor of…favors.

This was how the Leonmarket was so powerful despite being a fourth of the size of a country. They ran games of chance that put nobles so deep in the hole the only way out was to join the company. Entire families would find themselves suddenly indebted to the Market, paying interest on outrageous loans unless they could provide something else as collateral.

The collateral was almost always political capital. But the Market was clever. They separated their interests keenly, making sure one hand never noticed what the other was doing. When the Leons received a favor, they would use it to improve one of their other, more legitimate businesses. They never asked for gaming to be legalized. Rather, it was in their best interest that most countries prevented their nobility from accessing games of chance in their own nations.

This operation ran into trouble from time to time. Sometimes a local guild would realize they were being squeezed out of a market by favoritism and would raise a fuss. Journalists were quite commonplace as print media developed more and more, and the Market found more than a few enemies in the press. Exposure of their games was commonplace and while the nobility was often given a slap on the wrist for participating in illegal games, the Market? They were often punished by being kicked out. That was the easiest way to solve the problem, just send them packing.

Leocasinos were therefore mobile in nature. They were gambling nomads, traveling from city to city, country to country, looking for a place to set up shop long enough to get their hooks into a noble looking for a game or two. The longer a Leocasino ran, the better odds it had of attracting nobility from further away. Indeed, even famed kings were known to visit these places to play a hand or two, just to feel alive.

Jodie’s ambition was to install a Leocasino inside of Kaeon city. There were no laws beyond the Cult’s rules and the people were more or less compliant. The majority of the population was composed of human thralls who were unable to escape the city before the vampires took control, and they were more or less submissive to the Cult’s dictate. I suspect that they were relived at our rule.

The idea of establishing a gaming parlor seemed to be utterly beneath me. But Anna brought it up for a reason.

“I’ve been running the numbers and I think I have a way we can keep 90% of the country that we capture,” she said, once she finished explaining how the Leonmarket ran their operations. “But it’s going to require you to play nice with the Market. Long-term.”

“I have no love or hate for them,” I said. “They seem opportunistic but complacent in their corruption.”

“Yeah, that’s the Leonmarket for you,” she grumbled. “I used to buy fish from their mongers. Worst product I had ever purchased, hands down. But they had cornered the market, so there was only one option to buy.”

“So what is your method of keeping the country?”

“Two words: Vice Paradise,” Anna said, bringing her hands up to frame the air. “We turn Lepidonia from the Cursed County into the Cash Country. We legalize everything: whores, drugs, magic and gaming. I can list at least ten countries that have nobility that yearn to go somewhere to let off steam.”

“You are mad,” I said, laughing a little. “You think people would come here for leisure?”

“I do,” she said. “For the Leonmarket has a reputation that we can use. Let the Cult fade into the background and let the Market establish their territories here. Every inch of land you take, give a portion to them to use. And no taxes either.”

“You would give up income so easily?”

“The Leonmarket controls four different trades in Renzetto: fish, coal, alchemical pearl and iron,” Anna explained. “These four ingredients come from outside the country but are so damn cheap no local merchant can compete. Could you imagine what would happen if an entire country suddenly loses access to iron? Or coal?”

“I could imagine most nations would just get the resources elsewhere.”

“Yeah, for more money,” Anna said, rubbing her fingers together. “And most countries would rather die than pay a single coin more for what they were already getting. Before the King of Renzetto declares war on your nation, he’ll have to take a hard look at his relationship with the Leonmarket…”

“And realize souring relationship with us destroys his trade relationships,” I realized. “And the Market has hooks in everyone.”

“Exactly,” Anna said. “So, personally, I say we bend over and let the Market have their way with us. Give them every advantage and take nothing. In the end, we benefit from their existing trade agreements.”

“Can they feed our people?” I asked.

“I’ve talked with a few vice viziers. They’re all bankers and financiers, people who know a ton of suppliers of all kinds. Bringing food in should be easy – when we’re at peace. No one’s going to touch us with a ten foot pole until things have settled down.”

“And the sugar marsh?”

“We should still take it. But that should be the last objective on our list. Lepidonia is really the prize here. The control of the capital makes you the ruler in everyone’s eyes. At least, once you formally incorporate as a kingdom.”

“I would prefer the term Emperor, I think.”

“Emperor suggests an empire,” Anna countered. “That’s not a good idea. You’ll be far better off calling yourself a King for now.”

“Very well,” I said. “King today. Emperor tomorrow.”

Chapter 46

Without a plague, we had to rely on conventional warfare to attack Lepidonia’s position. The entire city was encircled by the Jade Wolves, their forces mostly composed of shock troops that were prepared to go in a frenzy at a moment’s notice.

There was no other way to move through the woods than by traveling on foot – the roads were poorly kept and vehicles couldn’t make it. Our horde of undead, nearly 20,000 strong now, had swelled up to such a size that they permeated the entire forest.

We marched forward in a wide line, thousands of zombies making their way through the uneven terrain. There was no way we could send scouts ahead to clear the terrain, as the werewolves were waiting for us within.

Half a mile into the woods, contact was made. Three hundred werewolves emerged from a cavern, ready to lead the charge against the dead. They were able to tear through dozens of zombies but there were thousands to deal with. The undead mostly absorbed the wounds, ignoring the attacks and continuing forward. We couldn’t fight the wolves on their home territory without considerable losses, so I decided to just move them ahead. Every zombie killed was a living soldier spared.

And many zombies were killed. But as many as the wolves could cut through, many more continued forward, shielding the movements of the living soldiers moving through a small stream to the west. The Viziers had taken the strongest of Leonsknechts along with the best Cult Magicians, forming a portal division.

Their objective was to reach the first front, twenty miles into the woods. From there, we would be able to send in reinforcements through a portal, breaking the deadlock that had frozen a supply line for weeks. With the supplies secured, we’d move a full baggage train straight to the gates of Lepidonia, where we would enter the second front.

The soldiers who were recalled from the Marsh would come from the north of the city while we pushed up from the south. If everything went well, we should have our forces stationed outside Lepidonia in a matter of days.

My role was to wander and do whatever I pleased. The wolves knew to avoid my scent, however, and whenever I would enter an area to do battle, they would retreat. This grew tiresome after some time. Eventually, I decided to follow them all the way to their base – alone.

This was not a good idea but I was getting irritated from the hit and runs. The wolves were willing to give everyone else the time of day but not me? If they were so intent on running, I’d disrupt their entire base of operations with my presence. Otherwise, I’d get the fight I was looking for.

I came upon the great cavern in the woods. Barricades of metal were built around the mouth of the cave and behind them were many lycanthropes with bows.

“Fire!” the captain shouted and the archers began to shoot at me. My armor solidified in anticipation of the strikes and each arrow easily bounced off my torso as they all shot me dead center. I strolled forward, watching as they frantically reloaded and fired again. Their arrows were mundane, useless against the Amber Armor.

But these wolves did not give up. Once it became clear I was unable to be harmed via arrow, they dropped their bows and unfurled their claws. They all came rushing at me, determined to stop my assault on their base.

I didn’t bother to unsheathe my sword. They came at me in a pack, but fell to pieces individually as I darted in between each wolf, my speed at least twice their own. Perhaps a virus would have been overkill, I realized as I speared two wolves in the head, detonating one of the corpses with a spell at point blank range. My armor easily held against the explosion but the wolves were not so lucky.

Arms and legs, bits of fur and organ flew everywhere as I strolled towards the lone captain who remained at the front of the cave.

“Velking,” the captain snarled as he stood tall. He was a black-furred werewolf, with long silver streaks down the sides of his chest. In his right hand was a longsword and in his left a dagger. “You’re here.”

“Indeed I am,” I said. “And if my reputation precedes me, then perhaps you can skip this fight and go find a worthy opponent for me to face.”

“You will take not one step further,” the captain replied, raising his blade high.

“En guarde,” I said back as I drew my own sword. The amber blade gleamed in the darkness of the cavern, giving a grim pallor to the wolf ahead of me.

He cautiously stepped forward, sliding one foot over the other with ginger movements. He was light on his feet and left no openings as he struck forward. The longsword slashed at me and I deflected it sloppily, only to receive a follow up stab from the dagger in his other hand.

The dagger bounced pointlessly off my armor and I pirouetted, slashing with my blade and claw. He deflected the first hit and parried the second, ramming his shoulder into my torso, driving me back. My opponent appeared skilled with a sword.

I gripped my blade and changed stances, waiting for an opening. The wolf cautiously inched forward, then in an instant, he was driving the point of the sword towards my torso. I slashed to defend but was too slow, the sword pierced straight through the armor, running me all the way through.

Yet, the weapon wasn’t magical. Nothing erupted within my body. Instead, the armor merely hardened around the sword and I looked down at the wound. “It appears your best isn’t very much,” I said, glancing up at the horrified wolf. His expression was frozen in time, for as he had stabbed me in the chest, I merely dropped my blade and stabbed both claws into the sides of his head.

I pulled the body off of me and tossed it aside, ripping out the sword in the process. 50 Discordance gained! appeared in my vision as I dropped the blade. It clanged to the ground, echoing inside the cavern.

Two dozen wolves rushed out but they were running past me. I held my ground for a moment but eventually realized they were of no threat. I continued forward, deeper into the cave, killing anyone who wielded sword or claw against me but sparing the rest.

I reached an opening, presumably where the wolves had set up their camp. There were no buildings, no armories or barracks. Just an empty cavern with…with a portal of its own. So that’s where the wolves were coming from.

I reached out to Orlin mentally and requested that he come see this. But he was far away and the portal was right here…damn my curiosity. I decided to go through and check what was on the other side. Why didn’t the wolves flee into this passage?

Chapter 47

The portal tore me through space and time in a matter of seconds. It was not a simple magical gate but a worm-tunnel, a magical access point that connected to another fixed spot on the map. One passed through all the terrain and territory between the two spaces in a matter of moments. I could see the entire kingdom of Lepidonia beneath me for a moment as I was ferried up into one of the mountains overlooking the Cursed Country.

There was a castle beneath me and then around me as I suddenly popped out the other end of the worm tunnel.

“Food?” a deep voice grumbled as I turned around to see a great big toad. The creature was nearly three times the size of a barn, with thick green skin and stubby yellow eyes. Chains were wrapped around its legs but it still could move around.

“Not food!” an even deeper voice bellowed. I turned around to see a werewolf of equal size to the toad. He was a broad beast, with shaggy silver fur and well defined muscles. He wore no weapons or clothes other than a pair of brown pants. “A visitor!”

The great frog opened its mouth and unfurled a long tongue that rolled up to me. I stepped away from the creature, realizing now why the wolves didn’t flee into the portal. This thing was quite hungry.

“You can put your sword away,” the great werewolf said as he motioned a long arm towards me. “I have no interest in fighting and Big Fig over here will crush you to pieces.”

“Is that your idea of a siege weapon?” I asked. “A big frog?”

“Bulldanian Rage Frogs are rare and deadly creatures,” the wolf said as he walked up to tower over me. He was almost fifteen feet tall, though the size of the castle we were in dwarfed us all. “They can destroy walls with ease when given the right incentive.”

“No meat, just corpse,” the frog said as it pulled its tongue back. “Stinky food.”

“Are you in charge of the Jade Wolves?” I asked.

“Heavens no,” the wolf replied. “Just the man left holding the bag. The various clans are all fractured and no one wants to lead. I am Samuel.”

“A rather human sounding name.”

“I was a human once, before my curse,” he said. “But that was a long time ago. I kept the name even though I forget most everything else.”

“I am Velking,” I said.

“I know well who you are. You’re the thorn in everyone’s paw,” Samuel said. He gestured towards a great hallway with a red carpet.

I walked alongside the great wolf as he casually strolled through the chamber, gesturing to the great portraits on the walls. “This was once a place of giants. Now it is a home for scheming wolves who wish to recapture what was once lost.”

We reached a stateroom that was filled to the brim with gold. There had to be millions of coins! Gems and jewels were stacked sky high and treasure chests were present, spilling over with coins of different denominations each.

“Quite the treasury,” I said.

“Indeed,” Samuel replied. He waved a hand towards it. “Would all of this convince you to go away? To leave this war alone?”

“Are you seeking to bribe me?”

“Yes,” Samuel said. “I am afraid that there has been a sudden power vacuum within our organization as you killed our strongest warrior.”

“The captain was your strongest?” I asked.

“Yes,” Samuel replied. “The strongest and the most skilled. The rest of us are artisan wolves who were recruited to fight.”

“Artisans?” I repeated.

“You’ve killed more potters and weavers than actual soldiers,” Samuel explained as he shook his head. He rubbed his temples. “Those who are the best fighters are stationed around Lepidonia, trying to secure the city.”

“They will fail to do so. We have forces moving to break their siege right now,” I said. “If you wish to negotiate peace, now would be the time to do so.”

“This land is rightfully ours,” he said. “The goddess Aegalla negotiated for this territory.”

“Then let her come descend from a cloud and give it back to you,” I said. “After she pries it out of my hands first.”

“What is the price of peace?” the wolf asked, sighing heavily.

“Total surrender of the city. Your people can keep one forest of their choice,” I said. “That seems more than fair. I’m not interested in excising you wolves. I’m just here for the bulk of the land.”

“Oh how kind you are,” the wolf sarcastically replied. “I can’t bring that offer to the Clans. They would rather die than give up their power.”

“I don’t give a damn whether they accept,” I said. “That is the offer I am giving. And it lasts until I have captured everything. After that, you wolves won’t get a thing.”

“Are you sure this vast wealth can’t dissuade you?” Samuel asked. “The castle can be yours as well.”

“You and I both know the wealth of Lepidonia is far more than what’s in this room,” I said. “Would you take such an offer if you were in my position?”

“No,” he admitted.

“At least you are honest with me. Is your impressive stature just a result of your curse? Or are we to come to blows?” I asked.

“Oh, you would kill me in seconds,” the big beast said. “I see no reason to throw my life away for the cause. Not when the cause seems to be pointless.”

“Then take as much wealth as you please and dedicate your efforts to pulling your soldiers from the fighting,” I said. “If you clear the forest up, we will be able to move along much easier.”

“What do you mean, take the wealth?” he asked.

“You admit it yourself, you’re helpless against me. I have no interest in getting blood on my hands for the sake of it. I will leave you to do as you please…but it may behoove you to switch sides before things get too far gone. These coffers belong to the Jade Wolves, sure, but will they be around in a week?”

Samuel frowned. “I am no thief.”

“No, but you are practical,” I countered. “This money could do a lot for your people. The ones who are still fighting even though they know it’s a lost cause. Pull your forces out, take the loot and live here in the mountains. You will have my full guarantee of protection. Eternal peace in the Cursed Land. No wars, no fighting…hell, if two undead slap each other, I’ll find out and put an end to it.”

“I’d rather a forest than a mountain…” Samuel muttered. “In fact…how about all of the forests? My lord.”

Chapter 48

Switching Sides! 500 Discordance gained! appeared in my vision as the wolves loaded the gold upon the great toad.

Samuel was a fourth in command, promoted rapidly as I had moved through the cavern. He was a pragmatist and a realist, someone deeply concerned with the survival of the wolves in general and best of all, someone who hated conflict.      

This made for an easy conversion to my side. As long as Samuel served the Cult of the Veil, he would be given charge of all the forest land within the Cursed Lands as well as governance of the Lycanthrope people. They would be given rights to run their own tribes however they wished and the clans could reform.

I had no interest in controlling the lycanthrope culture. I didn’t care about them at all beyond the fact that they were in my way. Samuel recognized this apathy almost instantly – after all, I had spared anyone who didn’t take up arms against me. Realizing that I was the rare combination of reasonable and inattentive, Samuel gave himself all the power he could possibly hold – without any of the real responsibilities of running a nation. After all, he was just a lackey now.

The order was given throughout the woods and the majority of the wolves returned to the cave. There were a few holdouts here and there, fighters who didn’t wish to serve an undead master, but the majority of the wolves were tired of the war. Most were just regular people who wanted to go home.

And I could give them those homes. Any territory I controlled, Samuel could settle his people. He was pleased with this arrangement, so much so that he began comparing me actively to his goddess Aegalla. The banshee goddess had not given them much in the last few years, but I on the other hand? I had given him full sovereignty without any strings attached.

And thus the second front fell, our forces able to easily overpower the remnants of the wolves. The living soldiers made it to their objective and the supplies began moving straight towards the great city.

Word had reached the Jade Wolves forces and they had sent a counter-force to move against us. They were entrenched high upon a hill before the valley leading to Lepidonia. High powered spellcasters were among the wolves, throwing fireballs and holy wards at our advancing forces. Our own clerics moved ahead and began to weave counter-charms, but it was of little use. The wolves had the height advantage over us and they were making full use of the terrain.

Samuel had informed me that the remaining clans that made up the Jade Wolves were far more deadly than his troop – hence why they were surrounding the city. We would not have an easy time taking the land from them.

Our troops had pulled back a bit, well the living ones anyway, and now a wall of the dead was advancing up the hill, routinely slaughtered by magical barrages.

“There,” Orlin said as he waved his hand over me. “You’re completely invisible until you attack.”

“Perfect,” I replied, watching the large frog hop away with the treasure. We were atop the mountain palace, where we had full view of the battlefield. I did not intend to stay out of the battle for long – the wolf mages were easy targets to take out individually. I just needed to get close.

“You sure about diving in? They can’t bombard our forces forever and we’re just losing dregs,” Orlin asked.

“The goal isn’t just to win, it is to win with style and flair,” I replied. “A godking must fight with his own two hands.”

“Seems to be the opposite of what a god does,” Orlin said. “Actually showing up and intervening.”

“You just haven’t been serving the right ones,” I answered as I crouched and readied to begin my journey across the mountains. Wait, I had some discordance didn’t I? Better spend it before I head down…

I had racked up almost 3,200 Discordance from my exploits, more than enough to infuse my Amber kit with more energy. The sword was the first to receive an infusion of energy

Amber Blade has gained 1,000 Discordance! You have gained 1 Upgrade.

Path of the Fencer Branch Two

Riposte of the Damned: Striking an opponent in the middle of an attack causes them to abandon their move.

Precision Flick: Bypass all defenses to land a single blow.

Frenzied Footwork: Increase your movement speed by 14%.

Frenzied Footwork was an excellent choice. One could never go too quickly. I didn’t predict any particularly well armored enemies in the battle ahead, as they were mages and werewolves, so the other two offensive abilities weren’t terribly interesting right now. I purchased Frenzied Footwork and infused my Aegis next. This cost 1,500 Discordance but brought up a host of new abilities to choose from.

You have 1 Upgrade! Please select a Passive Benefit.

Outnumbered Fighter: Whenever you are outnumbered, you gain 50% damage resistance.

Mirroring: Once per day you can reflect a single spell back at a caster.

Repairing: This armor repairs itself after being damaged.

Outnumbered Fighter looked perfect for me. I had no interest in bringing a retinue with me to do battle, I was entirely on my lonesome. I would almost always be surrounded during this war. No reason not to draw an active benefit from it.

I finished my purchases and made my way towards the embattled hill, where even now the dead were failing to ascend. The sense invisibility Orlin had cast upon me had rendered me invisible to the wolves’ sense of smell, allowing me to scutter to a fortified position without being noticed.

The Jade Wolves had built wooden barricades all around them, creating a large square with long swivel-mounted polearms that could be jabbed at any angle. They were preparing to entrench here, as they had already dug out several long ditches where the wounded were being dragged to. Clerics stood over, human and lycanthrope alike, casting spells to restore the wounded and even revive the dead who weren’t too far gone.

I counted nearly two thousand strong, packed tightly behind the barricades. An overwhelming number of werewolves, even for me. But I wasn’t here to fight all of them. My job was to remove the mages who were standing at the front of the hill, firing spell after spell at my army.

There were six mages in total, each one surrounded by an honor guard of wolves armed with swords and adorned in banded iron mail. Bolts of magic easily struck any projectiles sailing upwards to strike the mages and anytime the dead managed to get up the hill, the honor guard would start hacking downward. Our forces hadn’t even started the real fight and they were being gutted by the hundreds.

I had to be quick here. Damn quick.

Gritting my teeth, I scuttered up to the first mage, slipping in between his guards easily enough. They were distracted by a band of rowdy ghouls that were climbing atop each corpse, baying and biting frantically at anything living.

“Quick and clean,” I thought to myself as I speared the first mage in the skull, killing him instantly. He was midspell and completely caught off guard, the wolf’s eyes wide in surprise. My invisibility spell ended, yet I was too close for anyone to notice right away. My stench was mingling just fine with the assaulting dead.

With the first mage killed, I quickly threw the body into the other wizard beside him, casting Detonate Corpse while I was at it. The explosion killed the guards and spellcaster within. At the same time, I dashed forward, teleporting through the flank of bodyguards who were now rushing me from the other side of the hill.

The mages had formed a straight line, no doubt some kind of war maneuver, allowing me to rush from group to group, leaping or teleporting through guards with ease. I would appear or land in front of the mage, slit his throat or cut the head off and then be gone in another instant.

As soon as the focus broke from the monsters beneath to the single monster threatening the entire line, the dead began to ascend. The hill grew dense while hundreds of corpses shambled up, driven by the priests behind them to advance no matter what. The last two mages didn’t stand a chance, for as their guards ran to fight me, they were left to be devoured by the horde. Sure, they might kill a few dozen on the way out, but in the end, they were slain all the same.

Using my strength, I slashed my claws into the wooden barricades in front of us, the only thing keeping the dead from advancing. The walls exploded, revealing thousands of armed soldiers ready to charge. But they weren’t expecting the enemy to relentlessly push into them no matter what. Hundreds of zombies ran forward, clambering over each other as they simply pushed. Wolves fought violently but how can one stop a stampede in such close quarters?

The entrenchments turned into traps. The Jade Wolves were unable to retreat due to their own barricades. They had built the walls high enough to stop a stack of undead from getting in, but now those same walls were holding them in. Some managed to climb out but the majority was simply pressed into the wooden barricades by the teeming horde that never seemed to end.

The stream of bodies pushed so hard into the position that soon the walls were breaking apart. The hearty battlefield construction of the werewolves shattered to pieces as our numbers completely absorbed the camp.

This isn’t to say we didn’t take losses. Hundreds of bodies piled up but we had tens of thousands of corpses to spare. We would reach the plains leading to Lepidonia City. And from there, we would be able to break into the front…

Chapter 49

The Jade Wolves responded quickly to the loss of their response force. A number of units appeared on the battlefield, coming in from the north. There was nothing between us and the city besides straight mileage. Eight miles of empty ground, two miles of enemy camp and then – the front gates of the city.

These soldiers were in formation. I counted nearly fourteen banners, that was fourteen separate groups moving. These were lycanthropes the size of Samuel, wearing metal banded armor and carrying either longswords or halberds. They marched on their hind legs, walking like normal humans, though their gait was much larger.

“These are pros,” Vizier Luminous said to me as we watched the enemy forces from a distance. “I can sense it.”

Luminous was the latest field general. Viziers didn’t have a tendency to survive very long in the battlefield. It was strange but their casualty rate seemed higher than even the zombies. Those who replaced their former Vizier were often unsurprised and unperturbed at the fate of their comrade.

“They do move with skilled formation,” I replied. “How many divisions can we form?”

“We have the numbers to easily match them unit for unit,” the Vizier replied. “Though, each of theirs is worth at least a hundred of ours.”

We’d lose too many units in a straight fight. This would cut down our numbers into the reserve ranks – the human soldiers.

Our Mortal Division, as they called themselves, was composed of nearly 44,000 soldiers. A combined force of the Cult and the Leonmarketters, these soldiers were rowdy and fresh, ready for anything the world threw at them. Most were veterans in one way or another and knew how to handle themselves in war. And our clerics, scattered throughout the Division, would enchant them with offensive and defensive charms.

The goal was to get the Mortal Division to the city where they’d be able to fight into the position and then take control. With fresh supplies, they’d be able to then start fighting their way out of the city, systematically pushing back the wolves.

This wasn’t an amazing plan by any means, but it was functional. However, now as we were facing a formal army moving against ourselves, I considered that maybe it would be better to win out here in the melee.

These were the stronger or perhaps even the strongest soldiers the Jade Wolves could furnish. They were marching in formation and carried themselves like professionals. Even if they did not make up the bulk of the Jade Wolves’ forces, we could still shatter their position. In doing so, it would damage the morale of the enemy greatly.

“Vizier, call forth the mortal division,” I said. “Start moving them into formations to match the enemy position.”

“They’re moving to encircle us,” the vizier reported. “They want to hold us in position for as long as possible.”

“Hold the dead back then,” I said. “Reroute them to move around the melee once it unfolds. This will force their ranks to choose whether to hold or split. Either choice is in our favor.”

“Understood,” the vizier said, saluting me before he turned to relay the message to the others. As he did this, I walked alone towards the great host of enemy soldiers ahead.

The distance between our parties was great and they took notice of the lone wolf making his way towards the pack. A few runners were dispatched to greet me and get me to agree to a short truce before meeting with the leader of this army. I did so, in the hopes that I would be able to avoid a clash here. Maybe this man would be as smart as Samuel was.

A lone human came to meet with me. She was tall and brunette, with a stern expression upon her face. She was much younger than I expected, maybe in her late twenties at the most.

“I am Clanmother Agenna,” she said. “Velking, I presume?”

“Indeed,” I replied. I turned to gesture towards my army in the distance. I could see the units were beginning to move into position. “A pitched battle shall begin soon. Must it be that way?”

“I don’t know, you tell me?” the woman replied, crossing her arms.

“It’s not too late to sue for peace,” I continued. “Your forces might be strong but you can’t avoid losses. Not when you’re dealing with my army.”

“I see your humans are moving about,” Agenna countered, thrusting a finger at me. “They are moving into position. You know we’ll make quick work of your undead beasts. So you are gambling that your living forces can beat us down.”

“It is no gamble,” I said. “We have the numbers and the magic to match your strength.”

The Clanmother laughed cruelly at that. “You think we’re going to roll over and give up this city and all it entails, without fighting to the last man?”

“I think it would make more sense to abdicate now, when I’m in a good mood,” I said. “Though I suppose we can still come to blows the old-fashioned way. But if that happens…I won’t be as forgiving later.”

The woman laughed again. “You are a real character, Velking. To walk into an ancient people’s land and presume to take it from them!”

“This was not your territory before the war,” I reminded her. “You have no more claim to it than I.”

“Our goddess negotiated for this land! It is rightfully ours,” she said. “And you will not have it!”

“Call her to smite me then,” I replied with a laugh of my own, stretching my arms out. “Bring her forth to slay me if you truly believe she gives you claim. Otherwise, your words mean nothing.”

The Clanmother’s eyes narrowed. “You would submit yourself to a trial of the goddess?”

There was a seriousness in her tone that drew me in. “What do you speak of?”

“I speak of our oldest rituals and customs,” Agenna said. “We bring forth a great champion who serves on her behalf. You face him in mortal combat. If you slay him, we recognize that you have rightly defeated Aegalla in the disagreement.”

Trial by champion? I was tempted. “Will you cede the territory if I win?” I asked.

“Indeed we shall. But you will not win, that I promise.”

Chapter 50

It wasn’t ego that led me to agree to this trial. It was the pragmatism that came with recognizing how much better off we’d be if we didn’t lose any soldiers in this fight. There were still other factions to face, the Geist Vapors and the Corpse Guard. These groups weren’t as strong as the Jade Wolves, so if we were able to resolve this dispute without any major losses…we’d be sitting on the strongest city in the country with the biggest army to match.

That was worth risking my own life in mortal combat. Besides, I was actively participating in this war anyway, so chances were I’d be facing some strong fighters the closer we got to the city. This would just let me skip the tedium of fighting my way through the weaker ones.

Anna was displeased. But she could do little to dissuade me from this path. Her reasoning was different from simple objections to my safety. “Our army won’t be particularly experienced if they don’t go up against some real threats. These wolves will do damage, sure, but the veterans who emerge will be strong. And while it may seem cruel to subject them to war now, we’re still going to have to defend our position. No one takes a country by force and holds it with an inexperienced military.”

These were interesting objections but ultimately I made the decision I felt best. She didn’t complain, however. Instead the woman merely put on a stoic face and accepted it.

I met with the Jade Wolves in the middle of the battlefield, ready to see their champion. Part of me hoped that he was some giant hulking monster like the witch elf monstrosities I had seen back at the Salt City. Fighting massive creatures had a bit of fun to it, maneuvering around, catching heavy blows and scaling enemies…was I feeling nostalgic? I suppose I was.

And yet, I was disappointed to discover that their champion was a normal-sized human man. He wore heavy metal armor and carried a two-handed sword, often slung over his shoulder. The blade was wide enough to cut a cow in half. No doubt he had magical attunement to wield it so easily.

Eight clerics of Aegella were present, each one in werewolf form, wearing long white robes with blue crescent moons upon them. Two Clanfathers and a Clanmother were behind the clerics, watching me with curiosity.

Agenna was waiting for me at the front of a clearly marked circle in the ground. The circle was sixty feet of grass where I would square off against the champion.

“Are you prepared?” she coldly asked, gesturing towards her man. The champion stepped into the circle and bowed to me.

“I am, my lady!” he said.

“As am I,” I added, refusing to bow.

“This is a trial of the goddess, the rules are simple. For the right to own the land of Lepidonia, you two will fight to the death. Nothing is barred beyond one simple rule: only one being may leave the circle. Attempting to leave or flee past the circle will result in instant destruction – for either side,” Agenna explained.

The clerics spread out and began to chant, the circle around us turning golden. Great walls of light rose up and encircled the fighting space, ensuring that any who left would be vaporized instantly.

“Now fight!” Agenna shouted. There was little ceremony to this, I didn’t even know the champion’s name.

The warrior dashed forward, swinging his blade at me with lightning speed. But my reflexes were heightened thanks to the Amber Armor and I easily blocked the blow with my sword. He pressed down hard and I held my ground, forcing him backwards.

“Foul beast…” the man hissed. “You shall not overcome the goddess!”

Energy enveloped his entire body, a mild purple glow that radiated the signature of the Banshee goddess. As the blessings arrived, so did extra force. I suddenly found myself being driven backwards, no longer able to win the power struggle.

The huge blade pushed me back hard and I was forced to abandon my position by springing to the side, albeit clumsily. As I stumbled a little, a follow up swing came, faster than I could react, and my armor took a huge hit. I was tossed onto the ground, rolling up to the burning circle.

Claws out, I scuttered out of the way as another sword slammed at the ground, barely missing my body. Behind the light, I could see the clerics were all kneeling and praying…causing a stream of miraculous energy to fall from the heavens.

Damn it they were blessing him! But what could I do? It wasn’t like I could demand they cease having faith…but what if I were to call upon the faithful of my own?

I leapt up and swung my sword at the champion. He was faster still, able to dash up into me, ramming me with an elbow, knocking me off my balance. A follow up strike from the hilt of his blade sent me sailing backwards once more.

“This is no contest! Aegella cannot be defeat!” the champion bellowed as I landed on my feet this time.

“Anna,” I said, mentally reaching out to my High Priestess. “Call upon the entire congregation to kneel and pray to me.”

Two could play at this game. I played it defensively for a few moments, dodging and blocking each attach the champion made. Eventually, the divine power began to come pouring down upon me. It was weak and thin but it existed. Now how could I harness it?

Instinctively, I began to draw the divine power into my body. My senses sharpened, the world became crystal clear and I could feel…everything! I could feel the world again, as if I were a mortal except even better. There was no discomfort whatsoever.

I ran forward, slashing my sword at the champion as he was recovering from a swing at me. My speed was able to match his now and I speared the rapier into his exposed chest. The explosion went off, rocking the champion hard, staggering him backward.

Rushing into him, I began to stab a dozen times, taking advantage of his stunned state. More divine power was raining from the heavens, however, and his wounds were closing themselves up.

“Shit!” I hissed as he recovered from his stupor and kicked me off of him with a sturdy thump to my chest. I staggered backwards but recovered, bringing my blade up and angling it at him.

“You thought this was going to be easy?” he laughed. He grabbed his armor with one hand and tore the breastplate off, throwing it onto the ground. His torso was completely naked now, able to be pierced with ease. “Here, let me make it a little easier for you!”

There were no wounds on his body, despite my attacks. He wasn’t even sweating. All the divine energy my followers had provided was gone. A little trickle that boosted me for a few seconds. This wasn’t going my way. Had I bitten off more than I could chew? Probably, but I would chew anyway.

“You mock me and yet I stand here on my own two feet,” I retorted. “I am here because of my own work and no one else’s favor.”

The champion struck at me with his longsword, bringing it down hard. I was fast enough to sidestep and stab. Another hit though it was pointless. The champion was receiving such power from the divine that he could withstand any injuries. But…how long could he keep this up? For I was undead, I did not tire. Would he?

Chapter 51

I played for the long game in the fight. I had no energy to burn and I could therefore fight endlessly. Every attack, I dodged or blocked, countering violently in ways that forced him to continuously draw on the divine power.

The champion began to recognize that I was trying to run the clock and fought against me twice as hard in the hopes of breaking me down.

The third hour he started to crack. He was swinging at my head when suddenly his arms dropped and he fell to one knee. I took advantage of this and made a few attacks, stabbing him in the arms and chest (though I was aiming for the head). The wounds did not heal themselves this time.

“Too much divine energy,” the champion weakly muttered as he pushed me away from him with a warding spell. A burst of magic drove me backwards but the man did not rise. He merely stayed on one knee, hands resting on the sword that was sticking from the ground.

Of course. A mortal frame couldn’t withstand full exposure to divine magic for too long, otherwise it started to break down. Something about the pure energy destroyed all material matter. This was why most priests used vestments of some kind, to create a buffer between the pure divinity and their bodies.

I was quick to take advantage of the man’s weakness. I leapt at him and clawed at his head, taking it clean off.

The body jerked and fell over, dropping the sword as the head flew out of the circle, bursting into mystic flames before it evaporated into a crisp.

The clerics all stood around me, stunned at what they had witnessed. “It seems your goddess has failed on this day,” I said. “For she invested in mortal vessels that break easily. A shame.”

Agenna stepped forward. “You monster! You cheated!”

“Are you going to be a sore loser in this case?” I asked. “And break the will of your goddess? For if she was not weak, the only explanation is that she wants me to take the land. Fear not, for I will not be a harsh ruler. Indeed, your kind may have the forests and the woods.”

The woman began to snarl at me, screaming many curses but there was nothing that could be done. The deal had been made prior and with great arrogance. Even with her anger, the Clanmother would not go against our deal, for doing so would undoubtedly cut off their connection to the goddess. Instead, she swore revenge someday.

There was no peace treaty negotiated. The Jade Wolves simply moved from the city of Lepidonia further towards the marshes. Their efforts were going to be intensified now, but they had given up the rights to the city itself. We had won the day.

With the claim to Lepidonia formally abdicated, the Jade Wolves began to splinter. Some groups decided they would be better off under new management. These clans came to me quickly, tail between their legs. I granted them amnesty, allowing them to quarter in a section of the city. Lepidonia was gigantic; it would house plenty of people.

The remaining Jade Wolves found themselves quickly suing the Geist Vapors for peace. Word came down the grapevine that the Corpse Guard had also sent an emissary to meet with the Vapors. A moot was going to be held, one where everyone would be quick to settle their differences and form a singular banner.

This was an unintended consequence of taking a victory through champion battle. The Wolves had the majority of their strongest military still standing. They were quick to reinforce the Marsh, a position our forces had abandoned in favor of taking Lepidonia. If the moot was successful between these three factions, I’d be looking at one unified northern cluster. They might come right back at Lepidonia.

I recognized this capture of the city as temporary and began to plan accordingly. Lepidonia was in a state of great disrepair, with many citizens in a panic and thousands desperate to escape. The wolves had been using the numbers within as feed, making the survivors extremely hearty and resistant to just about any kind of home invasion.

Chaos reigned as criminal factions that once lived in harmony were at each other’s throats, fighting openly in the streets to settle their differences. Remnants of royal guards and noble houses had formed their own banners, fighting for territory as if the laws would never return. For the mortals who lived within Lepidonia, things were worse than they had ever been.

If I were going to lay hold to this city long-term, then I must ensure there is order. Order and pleasure for all who stay.

“Anna,” I said as I strolled through the streets of the great city. Mobs wandered about, smashing and looting, while Leonmarketters roamed, taking their own plunder. “We must begin to switch our strategies from conquest to playing king of the hill.”

“Indeed, my Lord,” Anna said. She kicked a zombie corpse aside, watching as it rolled down into an abandoned building. Most of the infrastructure was made of wood of the darkest brown. The wood was said to be enchanted to protect the city, but most of the buildings were falling apart.

“We must first get this house in order,” I said. “This city is in ruins. The population is weak and splintered. Chaos rules and that cannot be. You must bring order to these streets.”

“What is your wish?” she asked.

“Find me a Vizier from the Leonmarket’s side, someone reasonable but smart enough to make changes when they see opportunity,” I said. “Then I want you to move the entire cult’s civilian population into this city. Their task will be to aid in reconstruction. They’re going to be running soup lines, healing the sick, tending to the needs of the infirm…everything we need to gain the goodwill of an entire population.”

“It will take more than reconstruction to earn the love of the Lepidites,” she replied. “They’ve lost sovereignty, the one thing they have prided themselves on more than anything.”

I pondered that. “A civil government should solve that. Let them form their own state within the city and govern themselves.”

“There’s got to be at least twelve different political parties in here…” she groaned. “Whoever we hand the power to will exploit it.”

“Then we best hand power to the right opportunist,” I said. “How long do you think it will take to get control of this city fully?”

“Years,” she said. “The damage from the total breakdown of society is deep. And most civilians blame you ultimately.”

“I am known here?”

“Indeed,” Anna replied. She paused as we strolled up to a fallen tower. Hundreds of corpses were strewn about. “I don’t expect giving them bread and alms will grant easy forgiveness.”

“Ah, that’s easy,” Hix whispered into my ear. “Just cleanse the city of the living! You’d have plenty of corpses to serve you.”

I ignored the literal voice of temptation. “What will it take to earn their dedication?”

“That, I do not know,” Anna replied with a sad sigh. She shrugged. “I am not a conqueror, sir. I do not know the first thing about how to get a captured population in line. But I do know trouble when I see it. And capturing the city is only the first part of the equation. Keeping it from collapsing or uprising will be…difficult.”

“Then find me a good Vizier to rely upon in this case. As for you, continue your work with the cult. I want a formal house of worship installed in this city, a place that people can pilgrimage to gain dark blessings from me.”

“That actually brings me to my next question,” Anna said. “What are we to do with the other shrines within this city? There are plenty of temples dedicated to various gods…tearing them out might cause trouble for us.”

“You mean with the divine or with the mortal church?”

“Both,” she replied.

“Those who are dedicated to orders that directly oppose us should be excised,” I said.

“There are no good churches in this land,” my High Priestess replied. “But there are a few neutral gods and evil gods that are followed. Epheris has his cult here, Aegella has shrines underground and Tarin the Coin Tender dominates the rest of the city.”

“Epheris is no enemy of ours,” I said. “Leave his cult be. As for Aegella, she is the lycanthrope goddess…leave them be as well. I seek no strife with her people or her. Tell me about this Tarin, however. I am unfamiliar with this faith.”

Chapter 52

Greed was a portfolio all unto itself. A great power, Tarin the Coin Tender; was in charge of numbers and tallies, profits and more importantly, excessive greed for wealth. He was a neutral god, ordered and extremely lawful, interested only in profits.

Also known as the Multiplied God, Tarin the Coin Tender was revered by merchants across the world. Indeed, without his presence, international trade would not exist as it was. Roads were blessed by Tarinites, enchanted to stay strong so trade wagons could keep going no matter the weather conditions. Enchanted scales were used in temples to find fair and true trade deals with partners. And signatures were made with an oath sworn to Tarin, knowing that the Neutral God would keep the contract as was written.

Lawyers, noblemen and traders all worshiped Tarin or different aspects of his nature. They were varied in worship but united in the fact that they were quite wealthier than any other church. Despite this, Tarin worship was seen to be crass in many nations. Yes, he answered prayers for money but he also encouraged people to focus on earning the most amount of profit in their lifetimes. They said that his followers’ spirits would all be judged – not for their moral character but for their financial savviness!

The Leonmarket, curiously enough, did not get along with Tarin’s people. This was because Tarin called for a very high tithe to be paid to the temple. Working with Tarinites or receiving magical services from a Tarin cleric always required hefty payments to be given, bribes or donations. This caused the Market to lose profit when dealing with Tarin, discouraging them from working with the temple in the future.

I was interested in Tarin for a few reasons. First and foremost, he was Neutral and Ordered. That meant we could get along well enough. We weren’t opposed in elements and his portfolio was about running numbers, something I didn’t give a damn about. If I were to ascend to godhood, I would need some allies.

More than simply providing an alliance for godhood, the Tarinites were the most stable influence within Lepidonia City right now. Their church had secured the safest territory, as the symbol of the Coin Tender (a Coin with a stalk of wheat wrapped around it) was a sign of neutral land. Any violence within presence of the Tender Sign caused one to immediately teleport to somewhere completely random. This was Tarin’s Trade Blessing, which ensured that trade posts were safe from bandits, raiders or simple thieves.

During wartime, these blessings had enabled the buildings to stuff as many civilians in them as possible. The Tarinites were not heartless merchants, far from it. They took in as many as they could, some even willing to leave and fend for themselves on the streets. It was these acts that had given the local Tarinite Temple, the Tradehouse, a reputation as good people. The Lepidonian civilians would listen to the Tarinites far more than I.

A meeting was arranged. Vizier Lance made it happen.

The Vizier was a young man, in his mid-twenties, and had blue skin, though it was difficult to tell when he was wearing his armor. The skin was from a potion he had consumed when he was a boy, a prank item gone terribly awry, but most thought he was an exotic elf of some sorts. He often talked about The Homeland as if it were a place far away, but the man had grown up in Renzetto, the center place of civilization.

Lance was not suited for combat or war. He struggled to walk in the armor he had been provided and he had cut the horns off the sides of his head because of his tendency to bang into doors. He talked incessantly, ate at all hours of the day – the impossibly skinny man was almost always eating an apple – and had the musk of death around him at all times. But his mind was a human calculator and he was able to run numbers in his head easily.

In addition to this, Lance knew how to talk to people. His disarming attitude and easy-going persona led most to trust him, thinking he was either incompetent or laid back. In truth, he was always observing his trade partners, taking careful notes of their weaknesses to exploit later.

It was this mix of casualness and ruthless exploitation that had allowed Lance to move up in the ranks of the Leonmarket. His network of control was wide and he had a few strings to pull with the church of Tarin, granting us a direct meeting with the High Priest himself, Horton Honluck.

We met on the city walls, on an archer tower high above the city. Horton wore a simple golden set of robes and a golden tricorner hat. Upon his fingers were dozens of rings of different shapes and metals. One of them was certainly worth more than a peasant’s entire lifetime of wages.

To his credit, High Priest Horton didn’t bring an honor guard or any kind of protection with him. The man, slightly portly and with a ruddy face, instead showed up at exactly midnight, with nothing but a simple staff in his hand.

The moon began to rise over the cursed land. It was almost full today. I wondered when the Night’s Sun began next. It would be an interesting thing to see.

“You are Velking?” Horton said as he bowed to me. We were standing in a spacious guard tower, with room to walk and talk if we liked.

Lance was leaning against one of the walls, keeping a casual appearance. He stood up slightly upon seeing the High Priest. “Horton! How long has it been!”

“Not long enough,” the priest grumbled, his face souring upon seeing Lance. “I thought your damn market was going to stay out of this mess.”

“We did. Until it became profitable to get involved,” Lance replied. “But it’s to your benefit. All to your benefit. You see, Lord Velking is a very reasonable god.”

“Yes, I have heard the claims of divinity,” Horton carefully said. He was smart enough to not speak his skepticism, despite the fact that I could see it plain as day upon his face. “Why have you called the Tarinites forth for a meeting?”

Lance gestured towards me and leaned back against the wall, more or less exiting the conversation. His job was done. Now it was my turn.

“The city is finally under control by one power,” I said. “We have pushed the Jade Wolves out and the Dreary Serpent has agreed to dissolve peacefully. To the north, a counterforce grows and I suspect we will be fighting a major war either here or a few miles away.”

“I can assure you,” Horton said. “You will be facing a great force of enemies. You’ve upset the balance of power too greatly. The world will strike back and hard.”

“You are correct,” I agreed. I reached out and put a clawed hand on the man’s shoulder. “So let us discuss ways to bring about peace within.”

“Peace? Is that what you seek?” he asked, skepticism dripping from his lips as he spoke. “You broke the Banshee’s hold and disrupted the banners. All so you could conquer the land.”

“Indeed I did,” I said. “And there is no reason your church cannot benefit from my victory.”

The word ‘benefit’ caught the priest’s attention immediately. He ceased frowning and tilted his head. “You are seeking an alliance with us? I had expected this was a shakedown.”

“Nonsense,” I said, turning and looking out at the city. “Lepidonia is giant. There’s plenty of room for everyone. As long as they play by my rules.”

“And what are your rules?” Horton asked, leaning forward to look out at the city as well. We could see lines of people as far as the eye could see. All looking to get bread or soup from a kitchen.

“You will find them few and far between,” I said. “But I am in charge. That’s the first rule. The second is what I say goes. The third is that the Cult of the Veil runs the city. And the fourth? I’m taking offers for what the fourth rule could be.”

Horton slowly considered this. He understood full well what I was offering. “I have to admit, I did not think that I would be negotiating anything with you. I believed that this was an invitation to leave the city while we still had our dignity – and our pants.”

“I have no qualms with you. Or the people in the city. I have come to conquer for the sake of establishing my own kingdom, nothing more. The people within are inconsequential to me, beyond what benefits they provide. No doubt you understand this mindset all too well.”

“I do,” he said quickly. “Territorial sovereignty. We want a slice of the city. It’s our land and our god’s land, no one else’s.”

“And in exchange, you fall in line to support my policies and implementations within the city,” I said.

“The Tarinites are neutral, we don’t comment on the affairs of the king,” he said.

“Well in this case, I’m going to need you to buck tradition a little,” I replied. “The people are fractured. The politics of this place are a mess and we can’t defend from an invasion outside if there’s a rebellion within. I need stability and I am willing to offer you coin grubbers a chance at policymaking from the very beginning.”

“Stability? Good luck. There are so many people ready to leave the moment the gates are open…” Horton said, shaking his head. “You’re wasting your time.”

“What would it take to get them to stay?” I asked. “For that is my goal. A city needs a population to function.”

“You’d have to throw gold from the streets and give everyone a chicken every night,” he said. “A chicken and ham.”

“Farm animals?” I said. “Or is this a metaphor?”

“It’s no metaphor. People go where the food is and good food will keep them put for as long as you like,” Horton said. “But there’s no farmland. No food. Bread will keep a man working but steak actually keeps the man.”

I suppose there was some wisdom to that. “Lance, how do we get good food in the people’s mouths as quickly as possible?”

Lance looked up at me. “The Market can bring anything you need, as long as you have the coin. Two days tops.”

“If I import the best luxury foods and in high amounts, along with gold for bribes and such, will you be able to stabilize the city and ensure the new formation of a government?” I asked Horton.

“You want us to form a government?”

“I only want territory and tribute,” I said. “Governance is up to each territory. I don’t care how you run yourselves.”

Horton slowly nodded. He seemed to understand me better. “Ah, yes, I see. I must admit, I am surprised. I thought you’d be a violent and cruel man, prone to lashing out.”

“Nonsense, I am reasonable and easy to work with, as long as you understand that I will not tolerate backbiting and betrayal. Whatever your goals are, speak them plainly and I will grant them as best I can. In exchange, your people fall in line with me.”

“My goals? Just get the church through this crisis,” Horton darkly muttered as he looked at me.

“Perhaps it is time that you begin thinking bigger,” I replied. “Power has arrived at your doorstep. A great and patient power. I have no dark schemes for the world, no intention to do cruelty to the people I capture. In many ways, I will be a preferable leader, for I tax little and care even less.”

Horton pondered this for some time. “If you really are so benign, then order the loot taken from the city to be returned.”

“Doing so would irritate more than a few soldiers,” I said. “Are those the people you really want to rile up?”

“Is that the only reason you say no?” he asked. “I thought you were a god. Can’t you tell them to do what you say?”

“I can, yes,” I said. “But I have no desire. You are thinking too small. Doesn’t your god encourage one to take their fill at the trough?”

“Tarin encourages us to do right by others and not take what does not belong to us,” he said. “And unlike you, he grants spells. Performs miracles.”

“Miracles?” I laughed as I grabbed the man by the back of the robe, hoisting him high in the air. This surprised him and he tried to fight back for a moment as I dangled him over the edge of the wall.

“What are you doing, you madman!” he screamed, thrashing and struggling, ignorant to the fact that if he fought free he’d go careening thirty feet into the earth.

“You want to talk miracles? Will your god save you if I drop you? Will he hear your plea if I dangle you like a—”

My words were interrupted as the world around me grew bright white. Everything faded from view, burning bright hot for a minute, blinding me.

Chapter 53

“You asked for me?” a deep voice demanded, causing the ground beneath me to rumble. I fell backwards from the vibrations, onto a pile of coins. All around me, coins began to grow from the ground, rising up like mountains.

The man in my hand was gone – and my hands were fleshly! Human! I was sitting on my ass, a regular lump of flesh…my gods, I could feel!

This was a divine realm. I could feel the great energies of the god Tarin around me. He was this place, the coins, the white sky…and a giant as well.

A great head with shaggy red hair loomed over me. He had a messy beard, braided a few times with golden beads, and in between his enormous fingers were thousands of coins. The coins appeared endlessly, falling from the sky into his outstretched palm, where he would roll a coin or two across his knuckles before giving them to the other hand.

The other hand seemed to work independently and was careful to stack every coin it was handed, one after another. The rest of his body seemed to be merged into the coins, or maybe I was only able to see his head. Either way, the deity was present and real.

I was real too. The undead curse was gone in this place. I was just me.

“I assure you, I meant no real harm to your follower,” I said as I climbed to my feet. “I was just trying to show him there was a new boss in town.”

“You taunted Aegella while she fairly conducted herself,” Tarin said, shaking his head. “And then you grab my high priest and intend to claim I am deaf? I assure you, Velking, I have heard many things that you have said. I have watched you in this land. Or do you think my influence is minor? That I am some silly little thing.”      

“I meant no offense to you,” I said, unsure of what else to say. His divine powers were utterly transcendent. He could crush me like a bug.

“What do you mean? You were offending me!” Tarin bellowed, putting his coins down. The giant sneered, revealing a mouth full of golden teeth. “It is one thing to seek ascension. But to mock other gods as useless? To profane us and bully our followers? Did you think that you wouldn’t earn a quick reputation?”

Reputation? “With whom?” I asked.

“With the gods, you numbskull!” Tarin said. He slammed his fists onto the ground, causing massive shockwaves that knocked me back down. “You think you can just declare yourself a god and think we wouldn’t hear or notice?”

“I assumed…” I said, realizing the folly. “I assumed somehow I was able to hide my actions.”

“You assumed wrong,” Tarin replied. He sighed softly. “You’re bringing some new energy to the world. Order and Justice, though filled with evil…it’s interesting. I care not for the cosmic struggle, just for expansion. Endless increase. Ambition and greed serve the same end in the end.”

“So you aren’t here to consume me, soul and all?” I asked as I slowly got back to my feet. I felt weaker now…like I was fading. Was the divine presence destroying me? Or was I just burning out since I was mostly spirit?

“No, I’m here to give you a friendly warning. Seek godhood all you like, but don’t you dare proclaim the others to be useless or without purpose. We are great powers and we work for purposes you couldn’t possibly fathom. Just because your human life was short and miserable, just because reality is a shitshow…it doesn’t mean we aren’t functional.”

I paused to ponder that. “Why don’t you just squish any wanna be gods like bugs?”

“Oh believe me, many would love to,” Tarin said. “But there is an order to the universe. Belief…insulates. Ties a being to a realm. Destroying becomes…less understandable. Sure, we might kill your body, but what if your mind remains? The dark truth of it is, you’ve begun a path that has already given you reason for the gods to pause in dealing with you.”

“What?”  I gasped.

“Oh, wipe that smirk off your face,” the god said, throwing a coin at me. “If the good gods weren’t always in a fight with the evil ones, they would roll you over in a second.”

“But the cosmic clash…means that evil and neutral powers might welcome new blood because it would improve their position in the war…” I realized.

“And that is why I am speaking to you with civility,” the god of coin explained. “There are many conflicts between churches on the land. Many land wars between good and evil faiths, fighting for control over the most important landmarks. The Lodanites are the strongest by far and mortal reliance upon them is great. It is known that you are opposed to the Lodan church greatly.”

“Oh yes,” I said, fondly remembering the destruction of the Order of the Central Star’s home cathedral. That had been the mark of my rise. My dark debut to the world. “Good times.”

“It is the hope of many fiendish and foul beings that you may bring a human resistance to the Lodan faith,” Tarin continued. “And so they are willing to allow you to rise to power.”

“How kind of them to share,” I dryly replied. Did this include the Eight Below? No, they were silent and deaf to the world beyond the silvershade. “So I represent a chance for the cosmic battle to shake up and they’re willing to tolerate me.”

“Neutral gods don’t give a damn, by nature,” Tarin said. “I see no reason not to work with you as long as you are civil with my people. Shake anyone you like, threaten all you wish, but don’t impugn our divinity. It doesn’t bolster yours. It just makes more enemies.”

Holy shit. The human part of me, which was all right now, was blown away. Was I actually pulling this off? Had I managed to find an ally in a god?

“I can sense your elation,” Tarin said. “There is nothing I can give you.”

“You can give your church orders to follow me,” I said. “That would make things much easier. The entire backing of the Tarinite faith? I could organize the city much faster.”

“I do not give direct orders,” Tarin said. “Directly running a church is for the go-getters. I’m an Architecture Deity, my job is to ensure the numbers always add together.”

“Then why do you keep a church at all?”

“Belief, of course,” Tarin said. “Mortals generate worship which fuels us. Gives us great power. I keep a mortal institution in order to care for them, to ensure that they are able to continue comfortably living.”

“So it’s a trade? A mere exchange?” I asked.

“There is devotion,” Tarin said. “And love. I feel a great sense of love for them. I tend to them as best I can, though I am far from omniscient, so I am wary of granting prayers. Let the clerics serve the needs of the people, I say.”

Interesting. The great god slowly began to fade from my view, causing my own sense of stability to erode rapidly. “You are on an interesting course, Velking. Try not to piss any of the gods off any further if you wish to see it come to fruition.”

Chapter 54

The intervention of a god was enough to change my perspective completely. All this time I had thought the gods were mostly deaf and uninterested in mortal lives, their magic weak and unable to directly intervene…but it appeared I was wrong. It just seemed that I had backed the wrong gods in life.

I eased off my attempts to intimidate Horton and instead spoke plainly about my desires. The church of Tarin agreed to assist me, though neutrally, as a way to ensure that the city’s needs were well looked after.

Loot would have to be returned. This was a great test of faith within my own ranks, for the soldiers and mercenaries had filled their bags with silver and gold from every household. But the Church of Tarin demanded that money be given back, as well as any valuables taken. Only food and weaponry was to be kept as plunder.

In exchange for this cooperation, the Tarinites would organize a new government, one that would unite all factions present by offering a seat at the table to begin drawing new lines. When it was becoming clear to the civilian population that I was uninterested in ruling them beyond their fealty being to me, things became much easier to consolidate.

The city guard was the first to break. Upon receiving guarantee that they were free to lay down their arms and still collect their pensions, these well trained soldiers stepped forward to take charge of the civil government. Logicians and strategists, they were able to quickly turn to fixing the problems within the city – including taking down pockets of resistance that were still present.

Peasants were also quick to take advantage of the new government’s bread lines, eating better than they had in months. Merchants, fearing the loss of the debts they were owed, also fell in line, guaranteed by the church that all taken assets would be paid back when we had the coin.

A few loyalist factions remained, including those who followed the now dead King of Lepidonia. The Royalists were heavily armed and backed by three powerful noble families, all who were holed up in a citadel within the city. They had taken control of the district surrounding the citadel, using holy magic to ward my forces from entering.

The trouble with the Royalists was that they didn’t have the money to pay their men. Armed soldiers outside of the government could not eat our bread for free and so many soldiers switched sides. The few Royalists who remained quickly sold each other out, sending me private offers to slay the other in order to consolidate their power.

I ignored the Royalists entirely. The peasantry had more than enough problems with their former king and it was only a matter of weeks before the Lords and Ladies of the land were dragged out of the citadel and executed publicly. I had no hand in this, but it was quite amusing.

As the new Central Governance began to form, so did many problems I didn’t see coming. Lepidonia was a huge city, with nearly 1.2 million living souls within (the numbers reduced from the war) and we did not have the resources to feed and care for all of them. Not after the infrastructure had been interrupted.

“For everyone piece of bread we have, six go hungry,” Anna warned me as we walked along ramparts of the wall. “Clerics can conjure some foodstuffs here and there but it’s not nearly helpful. Satiety and nutrition don’t come with conjured food. Just the bare minimum needed to keep you alive.”

“I thought the bread lines were successful?” I asked, watching out as a great bell tower was being raised from iron. The Squibs had been deployed to begin reinforcing the city – and more importantly, changing the aesthetic to that of the Witch Elves design. I had liked the black iron, twisted metal spikes and looming architecture quite a bit. Soon all of my territory would look the same.

“Successful in getting the men with swords to put them down,” she countered. “Now they’re just loafing and we can’t afford to give food to people who aren’t working.”

“Seems we can’t rest on our laurels for too long,” I said, placing my hands on the wall before me. “What’s the best way to bring food into this kingdom?”

“Not best, fastest,” she replied, handing me a clipboard. I glanced at the paper on the board. It was a map of our city, with a route traced directly to the west. “The Shorn Kingdom to the left of us has huge breadbasket lands. If we could make a trade agreement with them, we’d have bread at our fingertips in a matter of hours.”

“Seems a little early to try and trade with another nation,” I replied. “The armies to the north are having a meeting right now about how they want to handle us. We’ll be bogged down in fighting for the months to come and that means any trade routes will charge us triple.”

“Which brings me to my next point: sir, I think we should end the war,” Anna quietly said.

I looked at her expression. It was one of reserve and worry – worry that I really wouldn’t like such a suggestion.

“Speak your case,” I sighed, waving a hand to her.

She relaxed and let out a sigh. “Alright, so here’s the situation. We’ve captured two cities and the land in between them. That’s almost forty miles of earth that we own. Moving further up might help you consolidate power but you’d still be fighting after that. If we end the combat now, after we have taken a position of strength…”

“You’re suggesting I take far less land than I set out to conquer,” I said.

“I know, but I believe the enemy will agree to peace quickly. You’re too strong for them to fight easily but they’ll dig in. Eventually you’ll be burned out of resources and they’ll get the upper hand. You captured the big one, I say we take this as a win and begin managing our new nation,” Anna explained.

“I planned to take the whole Cursed Country…” I mused. “But not keep it all. If I take half, will I still have it by the end of this year?”

“That is a question I cannot answer,” Anna replied. “But I am quite positive that if we were to stand our ground and hold out, the enemy, whoever they are, will not be able to overtake us. So we stop advancing, dig in and ready to defend.”

“I’m holding an awful lot of power to just let go…” I said, glancing at a claw. The Sugar Marshes were still in play and securing that resource would give us a tremendous amount of barter with neighboring countries. Feeding our people would be much easier in the short and long term. That would lower resistance from the peasantry and build order within my territory. I couldn’t just give it up.

“I understand your point, but I fear I must press a little further,” I said. “I have started chewing and I don’t intend to stop until I’ve eaten this entire country.”

Anna nodded at that. “Very well, sir. Then we best get the move on. Many of our soldiers are falsely celebrating that this is the end of their campaign.”

“Mobilize our forces, begin moving them north. We’re heading to the Marshlands next,” I ordered. “I’ll meet you all there.”

Anna looked at me curiously. “What are you planning?”

“My enemies have gathered in a moot to discuss me,” I said. “I think I should make an appearance to gauge their interest in surrender.”

Chapter 55

I departed from Lepidonia quickly. My forces were instructed to begin preparing for a long siege of the Marshlands to the direct northwest of us. It would be miles of Jade Wolves territory to slog through before we could reach the marshes themselves. The Geists and the Corpse Guard were both present now, their armies parked in the wetlands to the east of us. They would easily be able to strike us from the side, interrupting our march from the city to the marsh.

With Lepidonia now under the control of a Central Governance, I no longer needed to worry about managing the city’s short term survival. The Church of Tarin would see to the needs of the people while the Cult of the Veil ensured the Tarinites were fair and even handed. A portion of soldiers would remain to keep the city secure but the majority of our forces was able to continue moving toward the marsh.

I had no intention of another long slog through the enemy. I wanted my soldiers marching to show that I was undaunted and unstoppable, moving from one position to another without end. In reality, if I could convince this moot to agree to peace, I’d be more than happy to put an end to this war now. The trouble was my terms were rather stiff.

I wanted the entire Marsh for my own as well as the land in between the wetlands and Lepidonia city. This would create a large strip of land that was essentially mine, a perfect crescent shape in the map. Eighty miles of land would be the total amount I’d be controlling. More than enough for my great empire to begin building itself.

Would I settle for less? Most certainly. I wasn’t the kind who was going to grab onto the world with both hands and expect to hold on for very long. There were far greater powers, powers that would soon be coming to take my property away. The more land I had, the easier it would be to negotiate peace in the short term. Or so I hoped.

Ahead, I could see the great tent where the Banner Lords were meeting. Ex-Banner Lords, that is. The Geist Vapors were mostly spirits who had not moved on – including a few Dead Lords who had managed to keep their spirits alive after their bodies were eliminated. They controlled a large skeleton army, soldiers who kept their personalities and training after death and thus were extremely disciplined.

The Corpse Guard was a separate group of skeletons and wights who had banded together out of desperation. They had a few Captains who ran the show but no real leader to speak of. Instead, they governed by simple democracy.

Both parties were present in the wetlands, soldiers dotting the landscape as far as I could see. Werewolves were arriving from the west, their forces exhausted from the long march. They snapped and hissed at the dead that surrounded them, showing they didn’t care for the undead much.

I scuttered up to the meeting grounds and then stood tall, revealing myself to the camp of skeleton warriors. They all immediately scattered, some even falling apart as they recognized me. One lone guard stood in front of the tent, holding his sword up like it was a shield.

“S-stop! I have instructions to invite you in!” the skeleton yelped as I stood over him.

“Invite me in?” I asked.

“They held the meeting in the hopes you’d come,” he said. “Please, if you agree to peace, for just the time you enter the tent, hear them out.”

This was a surprise…was it a trap? No, if it were a trap then they’d have attacked me by now.

“I suppose I will stay my blades for now,” I said.

“Agree to peace,” the skeleton said. “That’s the wording you have to use.”

“I agree to peace,” I said.

“Good, good, now I won’t get yelled out,” he replied, pulling open the tent flap. “Go on in. They’ve been waiting for you.”

I entered the tent to see a dozen werewolves, gagged and bound, laying on the ground. They were writhing violently but unable to break free of the silver cords that were wrapped around them. A skeleton wearing blue robes and carrying a staff with a crescent moon atop it was standing before the bound wolves.

“Ah, you arrive,” the skeleton said, her voice feminine and soft.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“A gift,” a disembodied voice said. “A peace offering.”

A few phantasms appeared in front of me, ancient spirits who wore the faces of peasants slain by pox long ago. “We wish to conclude this war. We have captured the clan leaders. Bound them. Take them as your hostage and the Jade Wolves will give you the rest of their land. Leave us be with what we have taken. There is enough room in the Cursed Land for everyone.”

This was an interesting turn of events. I glanced down at the wolves. “Didn’t you invite them here for a peace treaty?”

“They came to offer us peace but we agreed to nothing,” the skeleton explained. “In the end, negotiations broke down. They wish to fight you. To bring dishonor to your name. We…just want to be left alone. We want peace at any cost.”

“Then it will cost you sugar as well,” I said. “Keep the land if it matters to you, but you will be taxed accordingly.”

“You would take us as vassals?” the phantoms asked in unison, their voice almost like a song.

Vassals? I hadn’t thought of such an idea…but I suppose another form of expansion was vassal ship….though it meant I was taking upon these people’s enemies. I would be responsible for protecting them as well.

“You must make a case for vassal ship,” I said. “I am merely demanding a fee.”

The skeleton lowered her staff towards me. “My Lord, you may raise my army whenever you wish. The Corpse Guard sleeps for the most part. When it comes time to defend your property, my staff shall raise thousands of us from our tombs.”

“And the spirits of the Geist Vapors simply wish to inhabit a place where there is a great deal of discordance present,” the phantoms said. “We are not a people who wish to be ‘out’ but the loss of the Dead Lords has led to us emerging from our resting places. Every moment is a loss of discordance that most will never see again.”

“I see. Tell me, if the Jade Wolves had managed to take Lepidonia, would you have turned on them?” I asked.

There was no reply.

“Opportunists,” I said. “That is what you are. Nothing more and nothing less. But alas, I am persuaded easily enough. You shall merge your groups together and serve as the United Dead of the Land. You may keep the Marshlands as long as you provide me with all of your sugar. Govern yourselves however you wish, it is no concern of mine. But raise not your hand to war nor your head towards diplomacy. Silence and blindness, that is to be your people’s political stance.”

“And the discordance of the land?”

“It is yours to feed off of,” I said. “I shall take nothing from you.”

“Then we must accept this deal. You captured Lepidonia – what ease shall you have with our meager territories?” the skeleton asked.

And just like that, the conflict was over. The wolves were handed to me as hostage, the United Dead became a subservient power, leaving me as the last man standing. The sugar would be taxed at 100%, ensuring that we would have access to a resource more valuable than gold in some places. With our contacts in the Leonmarket, it would only be a matter of time before we had money flowing in. And with money, came the chance to reconstruct the Cursed Land into something much more palatable.

Chapter 56

The Jade Wolves were unhappy with their loss in this arrangement. Many splintered into wild groups that ravaged the countryside, attacking anyone and everyone. This caused trade within my kingdom to stop instantly. Every wagoneer worth their salt caught wind of the Wild Wolves of Lepidonia and pulled back their carts.

Ransoming back their leaders did nothing to stop these Wild Wolves from striking. Each had splintered into their own faction that wanted nothing other than to go their own way. The long stable peace between werewolf clans had broken and now they were fighting each other as well.

In the meantime, the Central Governance broke down almost immediately due to corruption. Several church members were using their ability to control rations to gain prestige and power, leading to a peasant revolt. The church of Tarrin fought back and martial law had been declared.

Tensions within Kaeon City were beginning to erupt as well. The peasantry was unhappy with the standard of living the Leonmarket officials enjoyed and more than a few uprisings had happened. It took more than bread to get the people to stand down and the Leocasino was plundered to make the people happy.

Chaos was embroiling my territory. The only place of solitude and safety was the Bleak Pyramid. This black obelisk sat across from Kaeon, tall enough to observe the city – though they looked like speckles to me. I was standing, alone, inside the tallest point of the pyramid, the Spire Chamber where one could interface with the Core.

The Cult of the Veil was in the process of moving out of the pyramid entirely. Orlin was overseeing the move, using his magic to open various portals across the landscape to portion out cultists appropriately. Our soldiers numbered in the tens of thousands, but the population of Lepidonia alone was over a million. It was going to take more than brute force to ensure that the people were orderly.

“That’s all of them!” Orlin said as he appeared before me. I was used to the man’s sudden teleportations, though he tried to make a sport out of surprising me. “We are officially empty!”

“I can feel it,” I said, putting my hand against the clear stone in front of me. “Finally. I can concentrate.”

The translucent wall in front of me shimmered as I searched across the vast universe. There were millions of stars, thousands of planets and hundreds of galaxies to pore through until I could finally locate our own planet, Avan.

Zooming in, my concentration crystallizing even more, I was able to conjure up the image of the pyramid itself. We gazed down at the glorious creation, truly with a top down view. “Wonderful,” I remarked. “Just as I had hoped.

“You know a crystal ball can do the same thing and it takes considerably less loading time,” Orlin said as he shoved me aside, putting his hand on the wall. He was playful about the shove and I found myself chuckling at the affection. Anyone else, I would have torn to pieces, but Orlin? He was as much a friend as anyone could be to me. Hector liked him too.

The world shifted in front of us as the wall changed to a view of Lepidonia. The once jeweled city was now a wreck, houses burning, walls crumbling and people fighting in the streets.

“That’s what you were aiming for, right?” Orlin asked.

“Indeed,” I said. “With the wolves fighting on the roadways, we’re going to need a lot more security to move food between cities. I fear we may end up losing Lepidonia to infighting by that point. How the hell do you get a population to calm down?”

“In my day? Booze,” Orlin said. “Booze and the fattest, heaviest pies you can muster. No one wants to fight on a full stomach.”

“Alcohol makes a population fighty, doesn’t it?” I asked.

“No idea. I just remember that whenever kings are trying to quell a population, rum drinks and meat pies are the go to.”

“Sounds like I’m rewarding them for their bad behavior,” I replied.

“That’s exactly what you’re doing,” Orlin said. “But it’ll get them to calm down. Then you can focus on rebuilding.”

“How the hell did the Church screw up the central government so bad?” I muttered. “Was it planned incompetence? Weaponized against me somehow?”

“Nah, they weren’t going to be able to hold things together for too long anyway,” Orlin said. “Lepidonia used to be a wealthy and powerful city. The people are used to a standard of living that won’t be coming back anytime soon. And they remember it. My advice? Get in front of the people and address them. Tell them you rule them and they are going to eat gruel and like it.”

“And if they further rebel?”

“I suppose you do what you always do when someone denies you,” Orlin replied with a shrug.

Orlin was right. The city was in turmoil. Someone had to do something and I was the one who ultimately was in charge. The Central Government wasn’t able to keep power because there was no figurehead. No central authority beyond a few priests. These people needed to know that they were governed not by a church but by something far more devastating.

“You’re the magic man, can you make me appear within the city? To all who look up?”

“I’ve got just the spell,” Orlin chuckled as he cracked his knuckles. “I call it Orlin’s Grand Appearance. You won’t physically be there but everyone will be able to see and hear you.”

“All the better,” I said. “Hit me.”

Orlin released a burst of rainbow energy from the palm of his hands, enveloping me. At once, my perspective changed so that I was floating above the entire city of Lepidonia. Hundreds of thousands were beneath me, fighting in the streets, looting buildings or laying siege to the guards. Fires burned as far as the eye could see.

“Enough!” I bellowed. “All of you are to cease your fighting at once.”

All eyes turned up towards me. Those who recognized me as their god quickly fell to their knees, bowing their head in reverence. Many more did the same, just because their fellow man did so. Most of the peasantry stood, not defiant, but mystified by my presence.

“I am Velking Demoneyed, your new ruler,” I explained. “You see me from all angles, you hear my voice in your head. This is because I have the power to stand above this realm at any time and lay judgment. Shall I raise my right fist and bring about a great meteor to smash you all to pieces? Shall I descend in bodily form, raise my claws and rend you all to pieces until there is naught but babes?

“What manner of people are you? To be handed a city with minimal oversight, only to immediately plunge it into chaos. I am not a greedy man, I gave you this city with the understanding that you would do as you please and I would protect you. Perhaps I did not clarify. Allow me to do so now.

“This is my city. You are guests in my city. Esteemed guests but people I have the authority to throw out or kill at any moment. You are squabbling over luxury? Friends, I shall soon make golden coins rain from the sky. You will drown in wealth. Your grandchildren will own land ten times that you now hold.

“I hold in one hand the power to annihilate you all on a whim, and in the other, the power to give you wealth and luxury that you could only dream of. And I ask for little. Not even fealty to me. You don’t even need kneel. All you must do is behave, rebuild the city and accept that things are going to be rocky for now. Not everyone will get a ham but everyone will at least have bread. And in a year’s time? You shall feast on steak. That I promise.”

My words rang out throughout the devastated city. All eyes were upon me; the peasantry stared up with awe. The fighting stopped. Soldiers fell in line, not pressing an offensive once it was clear control was being regained.

My figure hovered above the city for hours as I watched them. The peasantry quickly began to set about putting out fires and construction efforts began once again in earnest. After a while, I felt comfortable leaving, fading from view.

“Very nice work,” Orlin said, observing the people on the vision wall. Even without my presence, the peasantry was continuing to perform their tasks in silence.

Population Pacified! 500 Equilibrium Gained! appeared in my vision. Excellent. It seemed that I was able to get through to them. “That was the carrot,” I said. “The next time, they get the stick.”

Chapter 57

Once word had spread that Lepidonia was calming down, a wave of stability seemed to overtake Kaeon City as well. I made an appearance there, just in case, but it seemed unnecessary. Most of the population had returned to their regular work.

The roads were still unsafe due to the presence of the Wild Wolves. There were hundreds of soldiers still roving the countryside, killing anything they encountered, even each other. I had dispatched several special forces to engage with them but it was near pointless – the wolves always fled soldiers. They were not interested in fighting anyone who could take them down.

News spread throughout the rest of the nations of my activities, as well as the disruption of trade. Two distinct reactions occurred. First and foremost, the Leonmarket began to place bounties on the Wild Wolves, offering large amounts of coin in exchange for cleared roads. This brought in droves of adventurers who were looking for cheap and easy work.

The second was that Lepidonia started to receive messenger birds by the hundreds. Spies were checking up on their networks, ambassadors were looking to see the diplomatic status of the city and many merchants were looking to establish alternate trade routes.

With the Market handling the wolves, I turned my attentions to the diplomatic situation of my burgeoning new nation.

The first choice I was facing was the naming of my nation. The name was instinctive, named after my beloved, the spirit who was still waiting for me in the afterlife. Kanton, after Kanette, the woman who had been the spark that had awakened the revenant within Hector.

Kanette had lived and died as a slave, capturing my heart in the brief time of her life. Even now, she sat in the underworld, waiting for her soul mate, me, to return. But she would not recognize the monster that I wore. I had to restore myself before I could meet with her again.

Our nation’s symbol was a skeletal hand holding a short dagger, to remind people that I was an undead ruler. I did not wish to hide my status. I was proud to be the Royal Revenant, an undead monster that had risen to great power.

Mapmakers were commissioned to draw up new territories, including Kanton upon the world’s stage. We were a small crescent, a tiny slice of land, but we existed now. The rest of the world would have to respect our borders – or fight against us.

These maps were distributed to various trade networks for free. Cultists learned art early on and so we had many great mills of map scriveners, copying hundreds of each new map for circulation.

Newspapers were also employed. The Leonmarketters brought in a great amount of printing presses in order to make a publication named The Freeman’s Gazette. These presses were expensive and could only run letters in the tiniest of print, but they were all the rage across the civilized world. Papers began to spread, promising many wonderful things to those who traded with Kanton.

It was at one of these printing presses that I was in a meeting with Jodie and Vizier Grappa, an economics advisor.

“And so you see,” Grappa said as he waved to the large box at the end of the press. “The papers end up here. We can print almost two copies an hour. That’s mind-blowing.”

“Excellent,” I replied as I lifted one of the newspapers up. The headline read ‘Velking pardons all nonviolent offenses’. “I do not remember authorizing such a thing.”

“You didn’t,” Jodie said. “But we’re still going to say you did. Propaganda requires that you personally do everything that benefits the people.”

I didn’t answer that, I merely read the rest of the paper. So many construction projects. So many jobs being offered.

“Are these pay rates lies?” I asked.

“No,” Jodie replied as she looked at the paper beside me. “It’s very competitive to the area.”

“Hard to imagine anyone wanting to come work here…” I said, following them into the next room, where a banquet had been prepared. The Leonmarket had a frustrating habit of preparing food whenever they had meetings – something that caused me to become greatly envious. I tried not to stare as one of the meeting attendants scuttled over to eat some cheese. How I longed to taste anything…even rotted food…

“We’ve already started the classic cycle,” Jodie commented. She took an apple off the table and lifted it in the air to inspect it. “Hire adventurers to handle a serious problem. Adventurers flood the country, easily solve the issue and then park their asses in place for a while. Most end up too late to the show, having spent their last coin to get here. They take work from us, earn a killing and start buying things.”

“Their coins in pocket bring merchants organically,” I said. “Which means trade deals for us.”

“Exactly,” Jodie replied as she bit into the apple. I watched as the juices dribbled down her chin. The anger inside me was so great I could spear her through in a moment…Come on, calm down. It’s just food. “And in the meantime, our casinos will bring in the dealmakers from other nations. They’ll see how stable things are and will easily invest.”

“Invest in what?”

“Bonds, of course,” Jodie said. “That’s the real winner. They give us large amounts of money and we pay them a few points of interest a year.”

“You seem to have nation building all figured out,” I replied with a chuckle. Grappa opened up his helm to get some food, causing me to wince. I turned around to block the image. “Why would anyone invest in a nation that just came into existence?”

“The Market guarantees these bonds,” Jodie explained. “It’s safe money for most nations.”

“And…shit…” I said, realizing something. “If neighboring nations have money invested in us, they wouldn’t attack us.”

“Exactly,” Jodie said. “Cash diplomacy. Works every time.”

As if there were gods of irony waiting for this cue, a messenger burst into the room. He wore the traditional outfit of a runner, black robes with a white faceless mask. In his hand was a scroll, the red seal glowing with magical energies.

“My liege,” the messenger said as he brought me the scroll. “I bear news from Renzetto.”

I seized the parchment from the man and glared at Jodie. She frowned. “That’s not good.”

Ignoring her, I opened up the scroll, unfurling it to see the script of the King of Renzetto. His handwritten script.

“Revenant,

I see you have taken control of territory adjacent to us. Do not think we are ignorant of your past actions. We remember what you did to Tague. There was an agreement of peace between humanity and you, but not your state. You must give me reason as to why I should not call upon my allies and invade you at once. You are called to stand before me – lest I raise my forces to shatter your tiny nation with ease.”

King Frederick the First was unhappy with this surprise development, it would seem. I suppose no amount of diplomatic birds would convince him to stand down.

“Renzetto’s pissed,” I said, handing the scroll to Jodie. “Any ideas?”

“What agreement is he speaking about? What did you…what did you do to Tague?” she asked.

I explained to her, in short order, that I had seen a great part of the city damaged in my pursuit of revenge and that such actions had not gone unnoticed.

“I see,” she said when I was done. “How do you want to handle this?”

“I am barred from human lands due to our agreement,” I said. “But an invitation allows me to visit, I suppose…yes. It’s time I meet another King as an equal.”

“I would suggest against any grand appearances,” Jodie warned. “We’re now on the world’s stage and everyone is waiting to see how you react. Renzetto is the policy maker around here, everyone will follow after their decision.”

“So you are saying I skip appearing in his window in the middle of the night?” I asked, stretching out one of my claws.

“Definitely. Let us arrange the meeting,” Jodie replied. “The Market’s presence will legitimize you and show that you are willing to act peacefully.”

“Very well,” I said, waving a hand to the woman. “Go and make the arrangements. I shall meet the King however would be best diplomatically.”

The woman nodded. She paused as if to say something but held her tongue. I gestured for Vizier Grappa and the rest of the meeting attendants to leave, though I kept Jodie behind.

“Is there something you wish to say?” I asked.

“It would probably have you cut my lips off,” she muttered, staring down.

“Nonsense,” I said. “Speak freely, but with respect.”

“I am surprised that you are so reasonable,” Jodie whimpered, waiting for the blow but nothing came. “And that you have been reasonable your entire reign.”

“You expected me to be a monster?” I asked.

“I expected you to turn your cruelties and hunger towards the population…but it seems to me that you’re giving them considerably more breathing room than their previous rulers…and your cult…it practices nothing akin to barbarism that those who follow evil often do…” Jodie said. She paused, searching for the right words to say. “You are defying my expectations in a way that is beginning to…to…”

“Impress you?”

“More than impress. It leads me to admiration. You have established your court swiftly and with minimal bloodshed, compared to the rest of the factions in this fray,” Jodie explained. “And now you are standing up to show you are a legitimate nation, despite the fact that you could be obliterated by one noble’s proper army.”

“You think I would have fled?”

“I thought you’d have been crushed by now,” she replied. “But none of our neighbors are moving just yet. And I have to credit it to your efforts. They know you’re a threat. They should have come barreling down the moment you took Lepidonia. What stops them…tell me?”

I grinned. “Fear stops them. But more than that, I happen to have a little something that ensures we’ll be able to stand on our own two feet even during a war. Something I’ve kept a tight lip on, in order to keep it an absolute secret. But now, I suppose it’s time for you and my enemies alike to know the truth.”

Hidden in my armor, pressed against where my heart would be, was the Vorpal Tome. This had been my prize for the time I had spent in the Witch Lands and this Tome had three spells within, each capable of devastating an offensive or defensive army. No one, not even Anna, knew of the Vorpal Tome, for I had been waiting for the opportune time for rumors of it to begin circulating. That time was now.

I reached into my breastplate and pulled out the small book. “When I departed from the Pyramid, it was for the purpose of procuring this item. A spellbook containing three single use and devastating spells.”

The woman reached her good hand out slowly to take the little booklet from me. Her hand was trembling as she opened it up. “I can’t read it…” she said, staring down. She flipped a page to a diagram of something that was easy to understand. A sketch of a meteor raining down on a city, smashing through everything.

“The first spell is known as Cosmic Impact,” I said, taking the book from her. “It brings forth a great stone from the heavens and thrusts it into any target of my choosing. The dust from the crater alone will cause dust to thicken the atmosphere, freezing us over for years to come.”

“My gods!” the woman yelped. “You can do that?”

“Indeed,” I said. “Vorpal spells are quite powerful. Crafted by an ancient race. The second spell is far more efficient. It transforms all liquid within a mile radius into metal.”

“Seems like alchemy,” Jodie shrugged.

“And the moisture upon your eyes right now? The water in your gullet from your drink earlier?” I asked. “Hard iron instantly. An entire military force would be reduced to nothing in a matter of seconds.”

“That’s one army gone in an instant…” she muttered. “Damn, Velking, you are serious about winning the game, aren’t you?”

“Indeed,” I replied.

“Tell me the last one, please,” she asked.

“Oh, I intend to. For your people must begin spreading rumors of my access to these magics. I want the King of Renzetto to wonder what I am capable of before I reach him.”

Jodie nodded at that and listened eagerly.

“The third spell opens a gate from the underworld, channeling all undead spirits into the physical plane. These spirits attack any living entity, possess them and then continue the carnage. They cannot be slain or warded by traditional undead fighting magics, for these spirits are using Vorpal magic to manifest, not negative energy,” I said.

“Why didn’t you use any of these to conquer?” she asked.

“Because if I had used them then, I’d have nothing to use to protect my territory. I have no idea what the King of Renzetto will do, but I know one thing. If he comes at me with everything he has, I will unleash my entire Vorpal arsenal on him and then claim I have much more.”

Chapter 58

News of the spells began to buzz throughout every city and camp surrounding Kanton. By the time the rumors had reached the city of Tague, I had the power to rain meteors on every major city in the countryside. A little overstated but enough to create a general aura of fear towards my nation. An aura I could begin to sense and taste.

The Market set up a meeting between the King of Renzetto and I, arranging for us to meet in a field of flowers in the middle of nowhere. No one was around, as per the terms of the agreement, just the King and myself.

“Achoo!” the mighty king sneezed as I approached the table he was sitting at. The man stood and rubbed his nose. He was red-faced and teary-eyed, signs of allergies bothering him. “There you are!” he barked. “About time the Corpse King gets here. These flowers are giving me the fits.”

“Shall I take all life from them?” I quietly asked as I approached. I was in my full armor, face blank and impossible to see.

“Oh please, save the theatrics for the nobleman you’re hunting,” King Frederick said as he plunked back down in his chair. He rubbed his nose again and sighed.

The king was a strong man, in his mid-fifties, with extremely thick eyebrows and a black mustache that extended out into mutton chops. He wore full armor, though no helmet, and around his neck was an amulet of undead protection. Too weak to affect me, however.

I took the seat across from the man and stared into the King’s eyes. He tried to keep his gaze on my helmet but averted his eyes after a few seconds. “Let’s get down to business,” Frederick said, huffing a little as he stared at the table.

“Very well. You sent a letter threatening me. Do you wish to do so in person as well?”

“Politics, my boney brother, politics,” Frederick replied as he pulled out a small bag. He dug into it and pulled out an octagonal box. The box flipped open, revealing some white powder. The man eagerly rubbed his hands together, took out a lime from a compartment inside the box and then stuck it into the powder.

“You know what this is?” he asked, lifting the lime to his mouth and sucking on the whole thing hard. His face made several undignified expressions, ranging from pucker to ecstasy to relaxation. He shuddered and visibly relaxed, stretching out and dropping the lime onto the ground.

“Ominar powder?” I replied.

“Damn straight. I sent that letter fuming mad but a care package arrived almost hours later, calming me down quite a bit,” Frederick said. He smiled goofily at me. “The Market knows how to take care of their customers.”

The king was a drug fiend? Count me surprised. “You thought you were losing access to the Ominar?” I asked.

“Indeed. But the Market was quick to explain that they now have even more control over the grinning grittys, mentioning how you had given them exclusive access to the Black Market Garden.  Now, I’m not one to hold grudges. What has happened in the past is in the past,” the King explained. “Whatever you had to do to one of my nobles and cities, so be it. But now you’ve got something I want.”

“Drugs?”  I repeated.

The King laughed. “No! Not drugs, information on who uses them! Every noble in Renzetto’s a filthy piece of shit – some of them are my kids, but most are appointees. Useless, the lot of them. With your little country suddenly supplying feel good powder to those nobles, I’ll be able to learn who I can extort and who I can bribe.”

“You sound like you have plans to consolidate power,” I said.

“Central Administration within the city is too loose, everything I wanted to try failed and I have no way of taking power back easily. But with you supplying me with a list of vices my people indulge in…it would give me all the leverage I need,” the King said. “I get more power under my belt and you get to keep your nation. Easy enough.”

That last part incensed me. “You get to keep your nation?” I repeated. “Are you saying that the only reason I’m in charge is by your grace?”

The King shrugged. “Renzetto can raise an army of 155,000 soldiers within 15 minutes. And those are the reserves. By the second week, I will have amassed seven-hundred thousand soldiers. By the end of the month, two neighboring nations will agree to send soldiers but they’ll just send token mercenaries, maybe 50,000. Still, that’s enough to lay siege for years, don’t you think?”

“How can you outwait the undead?” I asked. “I’d easily let all the mortals starve out in the city than let you in.”

Frederick paused. I could see some thoughts in his head. He decided to change his approach. “Let me rephrase. Velking, you’re a son of a bitch, I’m a son of a bitch, let’s be bastards today, eh? No reason we both can’t get what we want. And no reason for me to swing my dick around, my apologies.”

A reasonable man. “Bastards together,” I chuckled. “Tell me, Frederick…what motivates you? What are you here for?”

The King grinned. “No one’s ever asked me such a question before. I suppose I’m here for myself. I am the highest authority in the land, my word is law and the gods have no complaint with me. There’s little to do other than maintain order and consolidate power. It’s dull work, hence why it’s good to have a little extra stuff to get you through the day.”

“Tell me more about your desire to consolidate power,” I asked.

“Oh, well, that’s a miserable affair, isn’t it?” the man said, helping himself to some more of the powder, taking out another lime from his jacket pocket. The scattering of lime rinds in the strangest of places was now beginning to make sense. As a street sweep, I had always wondered why most limes were consumed in privies and back alleys.

The King continued. “You rise to power, raise a group of trustworthy folk and then they go on and appoint absolute dumbasses. The trustworthy get old and die, or worse are assassinated, leaving me with nothing but dumbasses. People who steal. People who kill.”

“People like Eris Lanyer,” I mused.

“Oh yes, that son of a bitch came up real pretty, got everything he ever wanted handed to him…though I suppose you gave him good reason to rethink his life,” Frederick laughed. “I wish you hadn’t destroyed half a city just to get revenge. You could have just murdered him in his bed.”

“You think that wasn’t my first thought?” I asked. “Revenge isn’t about getting even, it is about getting satisfaction. There is little satisfaction to killing a man who has everything and dies fat and happy. Even a few moments of horror before the end wouldn’t have been enough.”

“The Royal Revenant,” the King mused. “Truly, something that only could have come out of Renzetto.” He sucked on his lime some more. His eyes grew swimmy and his grin even bigger. It was so undignified, but perhaps that was the point. Maybe the King wanted me to see who he truly was. Or maybe he wanted to be inebriated…so he could blame something else when the next subject came up.

“Tell me, Royal,” he continued, his voice growing incredibly dark as he put both hands on the table. “Do you kill other nobles too?”

“For the right fee, I can make anyone you dislike go away,” I said.

“Fee!” the King chuckled. “Fee! Name it, you got it. I’m the King of Renzetto, I can do as I please with anyone I please. But I need to know if you can be discrete. This meeting will be declared a diplomatic victory on my end – I can’t have witnesses screaming about a hideous ghoul killing their masters right after.”

The Cult of the Veil had long ago infiltrated Renzetto, spreading out in cells and clusters, building up assassins and thieves to serve as our urban espionage network in case I ever needed one. Anna had been quite proud of the development of the spy network, stating that at any moment we could have any noble assassinated.

I considered this for a moment. “How do I know that after you consolidate power, you won’t just come after me?”

“And interrupt the Ominar flow?” Frederick asked. “Frankly, if you keep the drugs moving, I’m motivated to guarantee your independence. I mean, I can’t do so openly but there are ways I can subtly move the world to the right tune. For example, if I demand a peace treaty with you immediately, all my allies will follow suite and think you to be tamed.”

“So that was the point of this whole meeting. To posture?” I asked.

“The Cursed Land has always been a special place to the rest of the world, especially Renzetto,” Frederick explained. “When the undead get too much, we lure them across the roadway into your territory. When a lycanthropy disease breaks out, we send victims to your hospitals. And when the nobles get bored, the colorful potions that come from the city are purchased quickly.”

“So you step in, make some noise, everything is perceived to go back to normal…” I said. “There is just one problem though.”

“What’s that?”

“It makes me weak. I possess great magics and a vast army. If I agree to peace with the appearance of being the loser in the deal, it will harm my reputation as king. And that I cannot abide,” I said.

The King laughed but realized I was being serious. “Friend, friend, friend,” Frederick said, slapping a hand at me. It seemed the drugs were starting to work their magic on him for he seemed quite out of it. Either a man of extreme confidence or crippling habit. Either way, he was still able to talk.

“You’re getting hung up on the tiny things. What people say and what reality is are two separate things, right? The people can say you’re weak and stupid all they like, but in reality you’re strong.”

“Perception is reality, is it not?”

“Nonsense,” the King said. “Reality is reality. Eventually the discrepancies fade away. Let the people think what they want to. The reality is that you are in charge, you always are. I won’t war with you because it would be a waste of time. But I need to look like I win. The question is, are you willing to give me what I need?”

Something began to become clear to me here. If I clung too hard to total victory every time, I’d never get anywhere. I was willing to give up land in a conflict…what about giving up my reputation a little? Taking a beating was…wasn’t really the worst thing that could happen.

“You make a compelling case,” I said. “Suppose I grant you this win. What happens next?”

“We never speak again,” Frederick said. “But our people meet and do business. The Market always makes a fantastic go-between, they’re skilled at keeping both parties ignorant to the other’s actions. This allows us to have some plausible deniability. Though I suppose that concerns me far more than you.”

“Plausible deniability?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” the King said. “I have uses for a nation like yours. Tiny, insignificant and utterly free of Renzetto law.”

Chapter 59

There was no bluster, no fighting between the King and I. Rather, the man had laid all his cards out on the table, easily sharing the truth. The Cursed Lands had always been the realm for shady activities to take place and the King of Renzetto was more than happy to keep things the way they’d always been.

On paper, I had to take a hit and ‘agree’ to peace. But…the way the King explained it, brokered it out, he made it sound like this whole procedure was a formality meant to placate others. He had no personal desire to stomp me down, to show he was the strongest. He only wanted to ensure that I was on his side.

And I was. How could I not be? Frederick seemed like an excellent ruler to ally with in secret. He was a man of one vice, drugs, spending most of his wealth on the Market’s various services to bring him to new and exotic formulations. While he officially railed against it, privately, he enjoyed anything that could make him stagger.

The King’s obvious love for pleasure had given him a more relaxed attitude about the rest of the world. Sure, he knew how to put on a blustery face and speak like a prim and proper gentleman, but get a few limes in him and he was cheerful, fun and conniving as hell.

“You can kill them all?” he had asked me as he scribbled a list of names on a paper. “Cause this is my wishlist here.”

I glanced at the paper. Revenge was not connected to any of these people, I could not sense them. But they were all public figures. Taxmen and bailiffs, judges and administrators.

“You want to kill this many people?” I asked.

“Indeed, my rotting friend,” Frederick said, tapping on the paper. “Two hundred. Or did you think I wasn’t going to come prepared? If you can make these people vanish within the year, then I’ll be able to consolidate power.”

“And what do you get with such power?”

“The ability to annex new countries,” Frederick said. “I will declare myself Emperor of Renzetto and shall immediately take possession of Lepidonia – er, sorry, Kanto. You keep your kingship and get all the benefits of being part of the empire.”

“You offer me the ability to kneel to you?” I growled.

“Nonsense, wormfood!” Frederick replied. “When I die, who takes the throne? In my empire, my favored elector is the replacement. And you will be that favored elector. I mean, I’m not planning on corpsifying myself. I want to die fat dumb and happy in my bed. An emperor, of course, but still. I have an afterlife to enjoy.”

“What about your next of kin?”

“Next of kin? I’ll be damned if I even pass the potatoes to my flesh and blood,” Frederick replied. “They’ve earned nothing for me and wasted my power. You get me control of my land once more, restore my name and give me a greater throne and I will reward you in time.”

“I am suspect of what you offer, for you are so cavalier about it,” I said. “Surely, when you sober up, you wouldn’t dare give your country to an undead abomination.”

“I wouldn’t dare give it to an abomination,” he said. “But I’d be willing to leave my country in the hands of a god. And that’s what I hear you are.”

This came as a shock. “Do you believe that I am a god?” I asked.

The man’s face grew dark. The night was beginning to settle in and the air was blowing cold. He stood and began to walk towards nowhere in particular. I followed after him.

“As King of a nation, my job is to keep all of the religions playing well together,” Frederick explained. “As such, I have high priests from every major pantheon standing in my courts, often giving me information…” he paused and looked at me before looking at the ground. “Every single priest prophesied that a new god would be rising up. And then you captured Lepidonia the next day.”

He paused and took a deep breath. “I am not someone prone to superstition or excessive worrying about the heavens. But when every single prophet rambles the same thing, you listen. The truth is, Velking, many are beginning to hear of your cult and are turning their hearts towards you.”

“And you?” I asked.

“I am a Lodanite,” he confessed. “I follow the great Lodan pantheon…but only in word. My heart moves towards the more free gods, the wild and true ones…though they offer little power in exchange for worship.”

“I see,” I said. “And are you the kind who seeks greater power?”

“No,” he said curtly. “I have everything I need now and crave little. But just know that I am beginning to believe the story you are spreading. Death did not hold you…so what are you to become, if not a deity?”

Chapter 60

The King’s ambitions for consolidation were great. The list he had given me was full of officials who had private armies on staff to protect them. They were plugged into communities, given great authority and had the admiration of many. There was no corruption within them, none that I could sense. Their lives were simply forfeit because the King of Renzetto saw an opportunity in me.

Would he truly give his empire to me, after he died? I had my doubts that this was anything other than flattery and false promises for something that seemed so far away. But at the back of my mind I couldn’t help but wonder if he was promising me this in order to prevent me from taking Renzetto by force. He had spoken convincingly about the prophecy about a new god, after all.

I returned home on my shadow summon, Hemlock. I rarely used the silent horse these days, as most of my travels were with an army, but today was a fine day to ride through the countryside. My countryside.

The phantom horse ran along the road, the cracked and broken ground doing nothing to impede its movements. The state of the roads was quite terrible; I’d need to invest a considerable amount of gold into infrastructure. Fortunately, we would have that wealth due to the bond investments Jodie was securing for us.

So strange to think that my concerns were turning economic in some way. I was an undead assassin, but now I was here worrying about the state of the roads. Strange how unlife turns out.

Rolling hills ahead showed roads in even worse condition, torn up from the werewolves’ sabotage efforts. We reached the top of the hill that led to the better roads and I immediately called for Hemlock to stop running.

The horse came to a perfect halt as I gazed down at the valley ahead, the valley leading to Kaeon City.

Snow was pouring from the sky. Despite the fact that the Cursed Land was a temperate place, where the warmth of the sun almost never left, the skies had become thick and grey. Great clouds congregated together, releasing a torrent of snow from the heavens. Yellow light came in through the clouds at time, showing that this was something of a supernatural effect.

In the snow-covered valley were dozens of wicked black pikes, long poles that stuck up out of the ground with a vicious triangular point. Many writhing bodies were impaled upon the poles, or were hanging from them, their arms bound to the tops.

“The hell is this?” I demanded as I rode down to inspect these bodies closer. They looked to be a combination of werewolves and adventurers. They were heavily wounded or dying, starvation or blood loss overtaking them.

One human, a man, was still coherent and called out to me for help. I rode up to the pike that he was hanging from, the black metal architecture intimately familiar. This was the sign of the witch elves.

I slashed at the man’s bonds with my blade, letting him fall to his knees. “Who did this?” I asked.

“An army, came through and took us all by surprise,” the man gasped as he rubbed his wrists. “I was just here to do a contract…I didn’t sign up for a war!”

I immediately took off, riding towards my Pyramid. I sent messages out to my lieutenants but heard nothing back. An army was here? Who? And why?

I had done nothing to invoke the ire of the witch elves, had I? Even so, why would they send an entire army to lay waste to my land?

There were many questions in my mind but no answers, not from myself or my subordinates. They were completely silent despite my ability to communicate with them mentally. Were they dead? No, my sense would have told me…damn it…

The Bleak Pyramid came into view. It was surrounded. Thousands of tall witch elves were standing guard, adorned in their ancient black armor that had been forged ages before I had been born. More poles, pikes of judgment with hundreds of people hanging from them. Cultists, I knew. Only the Viziers had been impaled.

Treachery! The King of Renzetto had lured me away to spring some kind of surprise attack on me...or worse, the enemy had been watching all this time and waiting for the right opportunity. Either way, I was infuriated.

I dismounted my horse and dismissed it. The phantom vanished as I approached the great army, Amber Blade drawn. The ranks immediately parted, opening a pathway towards the pyramid’s entrance. At the front of the pyramid were two poles of judgment, Orlin and Anna hanging from them. Both still alive, but heavily injured.

“Is this meant to impress me?” I shouted to no one in particular as I approached my lieutenants. A human woman, adorned in black robes that had golden lettering on them, emerged from in between the poles, strolling towards me confidently. She wore a black hat that had peaks at the top, similar to the Inquisitor I had met before.

“Velking,” the woman said coldly. “I have been sent by the Estas Keepers to levy judgment upon you. I am Prelate Hanov.”

“What judgment is there to levy? I have done no wrong by your people,” I growled.

“You have stolen a piece of the light,” she replied. “A sliver, taken from its natural place. Even though the city of salt now falls to pieces, we require the light to be in place at all times.”

“You are mistaken,” I growled. “I have taken no such thing.”

“Then why did I find this within your feeble pyramid?” the woman asked, producing a small bottle. Within, I could see a fraction of the witch light.

Orlin! My damnable wizard must have taken a sample. Cursed idiot, he should have told me he was ripping off the witch elves, I could have planned for this!

“I see,” I replied. “You have me dead to rights. What is the judgment? War?”

“Only if you resist,” Prelate Hanov said as she strolled right up to me. She had no fear in her eyes, no worry about dealing with an undead monster. “Choose which hand we cut. The right or the left.”

She gestured towards my lieutenants. A spearman emerged from the group of soldiers, ready to impale one of them.

“If you think you’re going to kill one of my people to teach me a lesson,” I said, assuming a combat stance, “then I can assure you, you are mistaken. I will kill every last one of you before you can harm a hair on their heads.”

“Meaningless bluster,” Hanov said. “Choose your punishment. Or we will raze everything you have.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I replied as I dashed through her, slicing her head clean off. Two flicks from my blade caught the spearman in the back, the explosive magic tearing him to pieces.

In an instant, I was in between the poles, slashing with my claw to free Orlin, who was still conscious.

“Stupid, stupid wizard!” I chided as the swarm of elves came rushing our way. I slashed and cut with incredible speed, the Outnumbered Fighter bonus allowing me to ignore most of their attacks.

“What did I do? I was napping when they came in,” he wheezed as he raised a hand, uttering an ancient phrase. A great dragon appeared above us, breathing fire on the crowds of witch elves. They began to leap into the air, striking at the beast with incredible precision – though it was just an illusion.

While the masses were distracted, I began to cut through them. Orlin backed me up with a few spells, bolstering my speed. Hundreds of witch elves slashed at me from all directions but they were comically slow compared to me. My size and speed allowed me to weave through them with ease, skewering and spearing through their armor with my amber weapons.

Bodies piled up around me. Orlin took Anna and retreated, leaving me alone to fight the masses by myself. I was tireless but not invincible. Body after body grabbed onto me, yet my slipperiness allowed me to squeeze through their hands. Even then, they started to simply fall atop me and I found myself beneath the heavy armored bodies of hundreds of elves.

“I didn’t take your damned light,” I growled from beneath the pile of soldiers desperately trying to pin me down. “Just take the bottle and go!”

There was no reply from the masses and I fought my way out of the pile – and into another swarm of elves. There were just too many, I was alone and completely outnumbered. There was only one thing to do: burrow the hell out of there!

Chapter 61

Eventually I reached a depth to where the elves stopped chasing me. Digging straight down into the earth was easy enough, but the elves had not given up, laying siege to the tunnel immediately after I slipped out of their grasp. I dug downward for hours until I found an existing cave network. From there, I easily lost them.

“Orlin, what the hell?” I demanded. There was no reply from him. No doubt he was still fleeing with Anna.

I slashed the rocky wall nearby, frustrated with the turn of events. My main army was still parked in Lepidonia – though there was no telling what was going on with the city. If the witch elves could furnish a force to attack the Pyramid, would they also go after my newest capital?

“Hey! Ease up on the stonework!” a gravelly voice shouted at me. I turned to see a ghoul with a hammer and chisel, working on the wall across from me.

“What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” the ghoul asked as he continued his work. He was carving a map. “I’m updating the map.”

I looked at the wall I had slashed, realizing there was a map written upon it. My cut had gone deep in between two lines, indicating that we were above the Pyramids. The map indicated there was far more land to travel in between here and Lepidonia…as well as Kaeon…as well as the Crimson Castle.

“What is this place?” I asked. “Don’t make me use my power to compel you to serve me!”

“Easy, easy,” the mapper said. “This here is the Depths. You must have tunneled in from outside. Great, now I gotta fix that.”

There were other maps, leading to catacombs and crypts. The entire network was mapped out on the walls and it seemed like one could navigate entirely underground.

“What’s this?” I asked, pointing to a strange marking I didn’t recognize.

“A mortal establishment, some kind of tavern where all sorts of trade deals go down,” he replied. “Not too far from here, if you want to check it out.”

“Trade deals…” I said. Lepidonia truly was a land of endless opportunity. “Perhaps I can find a wizard who doesn’t have sticky fingers. Take me.”

“Right this way, a’good sir!” the ghoul cheerily said, walking down one of the many tunnels surrounding us. I followed him as we passed several other ghouls, all who were working to maintain the tunnels. They were all cheerful fellows, waving to one another and commenting on the non-existent weather.

“You’ve got a whole civilization down here,” I said.

“Nah, just the Stonecutter Ghouls,” he explained. “We were made centuries ago by the Dread Lords to maintain the trade networks. Not that anyone uses these passages ever since…well, you, I suppose.”

“You know who I am?”

“The Pyramid guy, right?” the ghoul asked.

“I prefer the name Velking,” I replied. We passed an alley that was constructed. I could see a few ghouls standing around, smoking cigarettes and complaining about their work.

Eventually the ground turned into pavement, the walls became carved and doors began to appear. “This is Mortal Alley,” the Stonecutter explained as he brought me to the street where lamps were lit. The sound of laughter came from one of the doors. Murky glass windows displayed silhouettes behind them, moving to the sound of music. “Where the living come to mingle with the dead.”

A portal was at the end of the road, swirling with a purple energy. Every now and then, it would flash as a person hurried through it and into one of the buildings.

“Where does that lead to?” I asked.

“The Gravedigger’s Guild,” he said. “They’re the access points for mortals to come and barter here.”

“Do they serve Epheris?”

“They serve anyone with the right coin,” the ghoul replied. He gestured towards the door with the music and figures. “There you are: the Twiceborn Tavern.”

“Don’t go too far,” I said as I departed from him. “I may need your guidance later.”

“I live to serve!” he cheerily replied, going back to his work.

I entered the tavern, the sound of laughter and music ceasing as soon as I walked in. The building was spacious, with many stools and circular tables, as well as a long bar made out of what looked to be solid bone. There were a few humans sitting about, all staring up at me with curiosity.

A skeleton was standing behind the bar. He wore a golden monocle on his right socket. “Oh shit!” he rattled. “It’s Velking!”

The violinist, who was also a skeleton, simply fell apart. The humans all gasped and stood to their feet, bowing deeply before me.

I held my hand up. “At ease, patrons,” I said. “I am looking for a wizard, if there are any here.”

A short fellow raised his hand. “I’m a spellblade, sire. Able to sling spells and use a sword as well.”

“Can you teleport me?”

“Nay, but the Gravediggers have the power to do so,” the spellblade replied. “Just take the portal and talk to one of the Guilders.”

I thanked the man for his aid and exited the establishment quickly. The people within were all too terrified to be of any particular use to me. Perhaps the spellblade could render some martial aid – if I were interested in fighting more.

In truth, going up against the Witch Elves for another round would be satisfying yet pointless. They had an army large enough to surround my Pyramid and my forces were elsewhere. This may be a frustrating situation but I was far from panicking. If anything, I felt a mild annoyance at this setback.

I traveled through the Gravedigger’s Portal, warping through the gate in an instant. On the other side, I could see a great hallway filled with basins that burned with green fire. Many dead were wandering the halls, carrying crates and boxes, moving items from one area to another with surprising precision. I had not known the dead to be able to perform construction terribly well.

A short man approached me quickly. He wore robes of grey, with a pallid mask in the shape of a skeleton upon his face. “Ahhhh, an unfamiliar face!” he said, bringing his hands together, fingers pressing against each other. “Welcome to the Gravedigger’s Guild, friend!”

“What is this place?” I asked.

“Harbor for the dead, those who are weary and tired,” the man explained. “Hmmm, yes, so tired! Are you exhausted? Did you come here to release the burden of undeath?”

Though my expression was hidden from the helm that I wore, I felt as if he could see my puzzled look. He nodded sympathetically. “What I mean, dear friend, my good man, is that the dead come here to find freedom from choice. From will. You see, the Hunger dominates the mind of the free willed corpse, ironically binding them to a life of suffering and servitude. Miasma comes to consume those who ignore their purpose or hide…damning the dead to a life of constant pursuit.”

I found myself nodding along with him. “It is indeed a life of constraint. You offer freedom from the Hunger?”

“And from the will! The Gravediggers are here to perform a simple rite, one that frees the dead mind from choice altogether. The thing that makes you a person will fade and you will be left with mindlessness and peace. Eternal freedom from worry,” the man explained. He gestured towards the undead laborers who had formed an unending line of workers passing objects from one another.

“And I’m guessing that you employ these mindless workers for your own profit?” I asked.

The man chuckled, a little too long, as if I were joking. “What does it matter when you’re on the other side of mindlessness? We care for the corpses, put them to work and…” he trailed off for a moment. “And of course, we hire them out to those who are looking for sturdy backs.”

Chapter 62

The Gravedigger’s Guild was a labor union that rented out undead labor to any who asked. Buried deep within the earth, accessible only via portal, the Guild Hall was a retirement home to any corpse who had regretted coming out of the dirt. They would lose their minds and personality in a simple ritual, allowing the Guild to then contract the corpses out for work across Lepidonia. Prior to the wars, this had been a very profitable endeavor.

Now things were different. The war and consequent breakdown of undead society had led many corpses to retire in the Guild. The numbers were welcome but since the guild only worked in Lepidonia, they found themselves with an excess of laborers.

Ossuary Master Tellrow was thrilled to find out that Lord Velking was in his company. He was more than happy to give me access to the portal network, allowing me to return to Lepidonia at any time. But the man was a salesman among other things and worked to convince me to hire his laborers.

“Come now,” Tellrow had said as I approached the portal to the access way beneath Lepidonia. It was about six miles away from the city, close enough. “Don’t be so quick to leave.”

“I am not interested in laborers,” I replied to him. “I have two civilizations of master craftsmen, both of which are invested in building up new architecture.”

Tellrow rubbed his mask’s chin in thought. “What about warriors? Hmm?”

That caused me to stop in my tracks. I turned around. “You have fighters?”

“No, but we have bodies and that’s close enough,” Tellrow said. “I’ve got an excess of corpses here and they’re just going to waste.”

“And you’re willing to send them to their destruction?”

“They’re already dead, what’s the difference?” Tellrow asked. “Look, the old rules were that we weren’t allowed to loan the bodies out for war. But the Banners are gone now, so there’s nothing to stop me from handing them over to you.”

“Nothing except your fee, which I assume is quite steep,” I said.

“We wish for permission to operate in the land once more,” Tellrow replied. He clasped his hands together. “My organization is small but stifled by the fact that we cannot run a storefront above the earth. Only the dead and the truly desperate come to us for aid. If I furnish you with more bodies, will you give us permission to build a guildhall upon the surface?”

An interesting proposal. “Tell you what,” I said. “I don’t particularly have reason to trust you or your organization. But right now, an army surrounds my pyramid. Tens of thousands stand ready to kill any who try to fight against them. If your corpses are any good, they should be able to put a dent into those forces while I move my main army to meet them.”

“Tens of thousands?” Tellrow said. “We have hundreds of thousands within these halls. Many dead came here to forget after the Cursed Land changed.”

“Then send them all above,” I ordered. “Now.”

“And in exchange, you shall give us what we wish?” Tellrow asked.

“I will give you all you ask and more,” I replied. “If there’s anything left of your forces by the time I return.”

“We shall begin organizing at once. Expect a response within the week,” Tellrow said.

“And one more thing,” I said as I turned to look at the portal. “If there’s even a hint of treachery in any of your actions, I shall slay you – and raise you as a twisted spirit. You will never know rest for as long as I unlive.”

“Perish the thought, sire,” Tellrow said. “The Gravediggers are a quiet group. We have no ambition beyond expanding our own meager influence.”

This all sounded too good to be true, but I didn’t have time to look a gift horse in the mouth. I had known there were human networks that trafficked the dead, but I hadn’t thought to seek them out. I suppose it made sense that eventually I’d make contact with one. Were there more?

I pondered this as I walked through the portal. The energy washed around me and I was thrust into a new place, a cavern with a steep slope. I scuttered up the slope until I reached the top, finding the light of the day shining down.

My armor seemed to insulate from the pain of daytime. I hadn’t noticed it for some time, but eventually I realized that the daylight couldn’t harm me as long as I kept my armor. This was fortuitous, for I would be able to reach Lepidonia above ground.

As I climbed out of the cavern, a great sight came into view. Thousands of soldiers, humans and orcs, camping in tents outside of my city. Dozens of pikes of judgment were scattered across the landscape, holding the corpses of those who had opposed them. But these were not Witch Elves. They were mortals.

“What is going on?” I asked myself as I stared out at the armies. My eyes scanned the numbers as I counted. Over fifty-thousand in the field. And in the mountains to the northwest, more were coming. A baggage train had been established.

“Looks like someone’s making a move,” Hix replied to my question. He had been quite silent for a while but now he was wide awake. “My money’s on a betrayal of some kind.”

“Who would be insane enough to betray me?” I asked.

“Orlin?”

“If Orlin was a mastermind behind all of this, I would be more impressed than angry,” I said. “No, it isn’t someone I know…or…or is it?”

A strange sense of familiarity came over me as I looked out at the enemy forces. These people were employed by someone I knew intimately. They were all connected to none other than Eris Lanyer!

The Hunger reared its ugly head but I was quick to control it. Simply by focusing my will, I was able to suppress the urge to go wild. Eris was not here, I couldn’t sense him but…these people were definitely his.

I scuttered across the valley leading up to my city. I hadn’t even renamed it and already people were knocking on its door, trying to get in. Not on my watch.

A patrol of guards spotted me for only a second before they were all dead. They didn’t even have time to open their mouths before blades had skewered through heads and hearts. All six bodies fell to the ground in unison. I moved on to the camp ahead.

More soldiers were posted. But they never saw me coming. These were just mortal warriors, people with no chance against a monster like me. Still, they had chosen to wield arms. They were legitimate targets as far as I was concerned.

Within minutes I killed everyone within the first camp, everyone except for the man with the fanciest clothes. He was a nobleman of some kind and reacted like one when I held my claws against his neck.

“Gods! Please, I surrender!” the man yelped as I appeared behind him, blade to his neck. He could see outside of his tent that dozens lay dead. “You…killed my whole detachment!”

“And you’re next, unless you speak plainly and truly,” I said. “Who are you and why are you here?”

“I-I am Lance Corporal Fleman,” he wheezed. “Son of Baron Oliver.”

“What’s a mere Baron doing fielding an army against me?”

“Land Barons are the highest rank in Ulmerton,” he replied.

Ulmerton…that was a country to the northwest of us. They were Renzetto’s closest ally. Was this the King’s doing against me?

“You aren’t answering the question,” I hissed.

The man squirmed for a moment. “Please don’t kill me but we’re here to capture Lepidonia.”

This idiot knew nothing. He was someone important, though. Son of a Baron, a hostage. “Who is the commander of this army?”

“Baron Jasperk,” Fleman wheezed. “He’s the guy who organized this whole thing! He’s the one you want!”

I released the noble and tossed him to the ground. “You are to stay in your tent and go nowhere,” I said. “If you leave, I will hunt you down and gut you open in such a way that you’ll live for several hours as your intestines fall out.”

The man’s face grew white as a sheet. “I’ll stay here, I promise. I am your prisoner until you ransom me.”

His words indicated that Ulmerton was a place that treated their nobles with respect during war. Those of higher status were expected to yield and be captured during engagements, rather than die fighting. I got the sense he would stay put, without my threats.

Chapter 63

The Baron Jasperk’s camp was slightly better defended than the rest I had encountered thus far. His bodyguards lasted a few seconds longer than the others, one managing to get his sword in the air before I killed him – something that no one else had accomplished thus far.

“Finally, some wine!” the Baron said as I entered his tent. The deaths of his people had been so silent that he hadn’t noticed that I was not a servant.

“Afraid the drink’s run out,” I replied, causing the man to look up from his desk.

Jasperk was a fat man, with a big brown beard. His armor looked squeezed into and he was sweating profusely – even before he saw me. His eyes went wide as I strolled up to him.

“You! How the fuck did you get here!” he stammered, trying to draw his sword. It got stuck in its hilt and I watched for a few moments as he struggled to free it.

“Would you like some help?” I offered, placing a foot on the arm of his chair. I leaned in close to the man and he stopped fussing with the weapon.

“Gods be damned, what’s the point of paying clerics if they can’t keep your kind out!” Jasperk grumbled. He released his weapon and sighed. “What is to become of me?”

“It depends. What’s going on? Why are you bothering my nation?”

Jasperk sank down, his face darkening. “A man has placed a blade to my back. And I have little option but to do as he says.”

“Eris Lanyer?” I asked.

“Indeed,” the Baron replied. “He has stolen the Crown of Valor from our King. In doing so, he now has the legal right to control the Baronies.”

“Your loyalty is to…a literal crown?” I asked. “Are your people truly that pathetic?”

“The Crown is no mere object. It is Ulmerton’s entire reason for being. Our entire nation came about from the Crown of Valor, it bestows the wearer with the power over the land itself. He can bless crops – or curse them,” Jasperk said. “Prosperity comes to those he likes and misery to those he hates.”

I found myself grinning at this. It sounded like Eris was up to some bigger antics than borrowing an enchanted sword. Was he also behind the theft of the light? No…that would be too clever. Too clever for my foe.

“And so he commands you all to lay siege to Lepidonia,” I said. “And you obey because of his power to bless your individual lands.”

“Indeed,” Jasperk said. “Tis a tragedy. Through and through. But when a nation’s identity is tied to that of an artifact, things like this happen from time to time. Soon someone from the King’s loyalists will find a way to retrieve the Crown.”

I stepped down from the man and retracted my claws from him. There was no reason to threaten someone who was already coerced. “Tell me, will slaying you stop your armies?”

“There is a firm chain of command in place, killing me will only distribute power to several generals, and so on,” Jasperk said. “And I cannot command them to stand down any more than they can. An outsider now controls Ulmerton. Our actions are entirely devoid of reason – beyond the need to protect our land from that outsider’s whims.”

“Where is Eris?” I asked.

“Do you think yourself able to destroy him?”

“It is more about disarming than destroying,” I replied. “I like his ambitions but he’s reaching a little too high. Best teach him to modify his aim.”

“He has established a foothold in the Witch Elf Sanctuary,” Jasperk grumbled. “That is another reason we cannot resist him. He has gained the allegiance of the Witch Elves and in doing so, now commands their vast army.”

So Eris was behind the theft of the light. He must have found a way to steal it from the Silver Salt’s ruins…then planted the bottle in my Pyramid. Sneaky, sneaky. I was almost impressed, if not for the fact that he was trying to use others to get revenge for him. These were not honest methods of gaining control – he was hijacking the armies of others through manipulation and control. The power that he wielded was not his own. Soon it would all come crashing down.

“How long can you stay your armies?” I asked.

“I cannot,” Jasperk replied. “We are laying siege to the city and once the gates are open, we will be taking it with our forces.”

“A day,” I said. “And we both get what we want. You get to go home with your army intact, and I don’t have to waste my forces slaughtering you.”

“I can hold things back for a day…” the Baron said. “But why should I trust you are acting in my interest? Why wouldn’t you take the Crown for yourself?”

“Because, I do not need a crown to rule,” I replied. “I merely need to speak and people obey.”

Chapter 64

The hunt was on. I could sense Eris on a base level, as if my Revenant’s mind could hone in on his location the more I followed his trail of influence. My lieutenants still weren’t responding – Orlin and Anna were both silent and Biggins the goblin was unable to tell what was going on from his place in the Veiled Kingdom. I began to weigh using the teleportation ring that Orlin had given me, though I’d be teleporting blind to his immediate location…if he were dead there’s no telling where it would send me.

Ultimately, I decided to continue my hunt alone. Finding Eris Lanyer would put an end to the conflict with the Ulmertons, freeing my army to respond to the Witch Elves surrounding my pyramid. Something told me that they would not be seeing reason.

Ulmerton was a rocky country, with many mountain ranges making up the geography. Most of the cities were in between the mountains, making them highly isolated, though the advent of portal magic had recently led to a boom in their economies. The country was rapidly advancing with this new technology and they were becoming well known for their innovations with halberds.

At the furthest edge of Ulmerton was the Witch Elf Sanctuary, a great walled area that was meant to allow the Witch Elves to live in peace outside of Silver Salt City. It was now, I suppose, the only place left for them to live.

My senses grew sharper as I drew closer to the Sanctuary, the great black walls looming miles above the landscape. The grey sky poured out snow, despite the fact that the rest of the area was bright and sunny. It seemed the Witch Elves liked it cold.

Eris was behind the walls, somewhere inside. I could sense his location. He was confident. Strong. A fool wearing a crown. I would smack it off of him and send him running once more. Or perhaps I’d put an end to him once and for all…

No. If I did that, it would be the end of my existence as a Revenant. And I didn’t have a strong enough soul to continue existing without a purpose. I’d fade the instant I slew Eris. This I knew deep down.

I approached the entrance to the Sanctuary boldly, uninterested in sneaking up. The Witch Elves had been expecting me and were quick to open the great gates, allowing me full view of the inside.

The Sanctuary was a hilly area, with many houses made of brick and stone scattered throughout. There was only one building that matched the construction of what I had seen in the Silver Salt City. This, I could sense, was where Eris Lanyer was waiting for me. A great citadel that dwarfed the rest of the humble buildings surrounding it.

The twisted black spires rose high above me as I approached. An escort arrived and quickly took me into the citadel, opening doors and making sure that there was no delay in my meeting their leader.

I was led to a throne in a great room where a mystic sun hovered above all, illuminating the interior of the cathedral brilliantly. All manner of stained glass images shined and sparkled in the magic light as the ball floated gently up and down.

Sitting upon the throne was none other than Eris Lanyer. He wore a crown of crystal upon his head, small gems of red and yellow dotting the forehead. A golden aura emanated off of his body, nearly matching the brilliance of the false sun above us.

“My, my,” I said as I walked to the steps leading up to the throne. “Haven’t you done well in the short time since I last saw you?”

“Ahhhhh, there you are!” Eris eagerly said, ignoring my jab. “Come, come, please. Make yourself comfortable. Tell me, why are you here? Is it because of my one army at your Pyramid? Or maybe the one around Lepidonia? Hmmm, I lose track of how many forces I command, tell me, have you met the Black Hound Mercenaries yet? Or are you still waiting on them?”

“Where’d you get the money to play king?” I asked. I was in full control of my senses despite his presence. Perhaps it was because I knew he was going to be much stronger to fight…or maybe I was just able to control myself to a greater degree, now that my soul was continually being restored.

“Money? No, not money, my foolish friend,” Eris sneered as he jabbed a finger towards me. “Money doesn’t do much to command loyalty. No, I took something far great.” He gestured towards his crown. “I took an entire nation. Ulmerton has long had their nobility built around whoever possesses this little piece of magic. How easy it is to gain access to a King when you’re a deposed noble, begging for help. And how easy it is to just…just take it!”

He snarled and I saw a strand of dark energy above him. Ahhhh, that’s why I wasn’t so possessed. The negative energy around the man was exuding an aura that gave me a sense of self control. His evil deeds to gain power had pushed him to a new level of depravity and in doing so, our connection was stronger. How curious. Stronger and more stable.

“So I stole the crown, killed the King and purged the loyalists as quickly as I could. No one saw it coming, frankly, because there are organizations in place to kill those who take the crown by force. That is why I have taken refuge here. Where the Witch Elves have been living for centuries,” Eris continued. “No assassin can get to me.”

“You lied to them,” I said. “And you stole a portion of their light.”

“How could you ever prove such an accusation?” Eris snickered. He leaned back. “You know, I have to admit…you had pushed me to the edge of what I thought was my limit. And then…then I just snapped. I just broke. And I realized that I would do anything to destroy you. Even regicide. And when you pass that bridge…well, everything else seems so easy.”

The man across from me was much stronger than when I had last seen him. In the time I had been busy building up my kingdom, he had been plotting how to destroy me. And now he had caught me by total surprise. I had sworn it would be years before I saw him again.

“Well, I’m here,” I said, opening my arms wide. “Come on down and let us do battle. Man to man. Let’s settle this once and for all.”

Eris chuckled at that. “Why would I ever waste my time with fighting you by my lonesome? I command two armies. For you see, the Witch Elves have realized their time of silence has come to an end. With the loss of their city comes the need to expand. And what do you know, the Cursed Land would be a perfect place for them to rebuild.”

“We have the prisoner, my lord,” a Witch Elf said from the corner of the room.

“Ahhhh, just on time!” Eris replied, motioning towards the man. “Bring him out!”

I tensed up at this, watching as the Witch Elf dragged out an old man dressed in tattered robes. It was Orlin!

I launched myself at the guard but froze in place. I couldn’t move. The false sun! It had changed colors to a red light and now I was unable to do anything other than move my head.

“Did you really think you’d just walk in and fight me?” Eris asked as he hopped off the throne and pointed up. “That was a very obvious trap. And yet you’re so fucking arrogant, so idiotic as to think you can just do whatever you want. Well, I’m here to tell you, you can’t.”

I tried to resist the magic controlling me but it was pointless. Nothing would move. Not even my abilities would activate, as I tried to shift to my wraith form to no avail.

“Hix, how do I get out of this?” I asked.

“Seeing how you’re standing in front of a Holy Sun of Sealing,” Hix said, “I don’t see how you can.”

Shit! My arrogance! My sheer sense of control had blinded me completely to the fact that Eris was fully prepared to deal with me. I had come here thinking I could slap the crown off his head – now I was entirely at his mercy. I would be utterly destroyed, of that I was sure.

Eris drew a sword out as the guard dragged Orlin to the throne.

“Let me go!” Orlin fussed. “I have done nothing to any of you!”

“I tried to make you choose a lieutenant before, but you were somehow quick to jump in and save them both,” Eris said. “A shame I couldn’t find the other one but this will have to do. Now then, Revenant. You seem to want revenge.”

He kicked the old man to the ground and put his boot on the wizard’s back. Orlin spat out blood and ceased moving. “But I can’t remember you one bit. And it has driven me absolutely mad to contend with a man who wants revenge against me for no reason.”

He lowered his sword and placed it against the old wizard’s head. “Let’s change that, shall we?”

“Don’t you dare!” I bellowed, fighting with all my might to move. It was no use, I may as well just be wishing my limbs could fight. “Leave Orlin out of this!”

“Oho, do I detect personal strain in that voice?” Eris asked, looking at me. “I knew you were attached to them. Now let’s sever that.”

With a swift blow, Eris slashed his sword downwards, slicing Orlin’s head clean off. Blood poured out from the wound as the head rolled down the stairs. I could do nothing other than stare at the man’s horrified expression, knowing that I would soon be joining him.

Chapter 65

“There,” Eris said as he returned back to his seat, dropping the sword on the ground in the process. “Now, now you have a reason to come after me. A reason to fight back.”

“Are you not going to slay me?” I asked.

“Where’s the sport in that?” Eris replied. He grinned at me fiendishly. “Oh no, I intend to take everything you have. You see, you’ve been playing a game against an unaware opponent all this time. But I’m aware now! And I’m going to annihilate you – by the rules you set up. I shall take your Pyramid, your cities and your people. All of them. And I will put them to the sword, to the last one. The Cult of the Veil shall be rooted out and slaughtered. But you? You get to live through all of it.”

Rage filled me. I tried to move but it was no good, I was still frozen in place. “I hope you know that I shall tear you to shreds the moment I am free,” I said.

“Ah yes, that’s the kind of attitude I want,” Eris replied. “Come at me with everything you have, but on the battlefield. You’ve built up a reputation as the Unliving God? Well, I shall be the one who unhorses him from his post. What does that make me, I wonder? Of course, I would never claim godhood, but if people want to call me a godslayer in the end, that would be good enough.”

“Well, looks like you pushed him into the darkness so deep he’s taken all the shortcuts,” Hix muttered to me. “There’s a demon inhabiting his right hand. I can sense it. He’s much stronger than before.”

“Free me from these bonds,” I said. “Test your strength, Eris. Or are you too afraid?”

A look of temptation came across the man’s face. “You think you can take me in a straight fight?”

“I know I can,” I snarled. “Free me from my bonds and I will easily overtake you. Or do you simply rely on murdering helpless old men to build your reputation?”

Those words were enough to get Eris to stand up. He grabbed the sword off the ground and aimed it at me. “On three…”

I tensed up. Was he really going to release me?

“One…”

Orlin would be avenged here. I would end this now. Damn my continued existence, I could think of nothing more than destroying Eris. Let us die together, Revenant and Murderer…

“Two…”

Eris suddenly sat back down, grinning at me widely as he tossed the sword away. “Oh come now, did you really think you’d convince me to fight you? I’m not that idiotic. I might have some strength but I’m still not strong enough. I will wait. And you? You will watch as I rend everything you have to pieces.”

“I wonder where you got that idea,” I snarled.

“Mock me all you wish, you will be watching this all unfold from a cage,” Eris said, gesturing towards his guards. A band of them came forth with a large silvered cage. A long chain was affixed to the top, to indicate I would be dangled for all to see. “You will have a front row seat to all of my dealings.”

The sun above continued to glow, keeping me held in place. It was pointless to resist. My undead spirit was obedient to the magic…but what about the human within? If I was going to escape from this place, if I was going to break free, I had to push deeper into my own mind. Regain my humanity, bring forth another soul surge…come on…search…

As they began to bind me with chains and ropes, a memory suddenly flickered through my mind. A hand against a head as it hit the concrete. Was it my head? No…no it was someone else’s…better follow it. Better find a way out of this place before Eris destroyed everything I had left!

Chapter 66

In an instant, I was in the dirty streets of Tague once more. The world around me was dark and the moon was out, illuminating the man I – Hector – was slamming against the ground.

“You killed him,” Hector hissed, slamming the man’s skull against the pavement. Blood sprayed everywhere. “Strangled him! Why?”

The man chuckled hysterically as my shadow beat the shit out of him. “He had it coming!” His giggling made no sense to Hector or to me. It was a darkness. A shadow inside of this man that was delighted at the violence he had done – and at the violence being perpetrated against him.

“What kind of sick monster are you?” Hector asked as he grabbed the man and rolled him into his back, hands digging into the killer’s throat.

“Not a monster,” the man laughed. “Just a man!”

Hector lost his temper at this and became tempted to kill the stranger. The blood of the guard who had been strangled days before cried out for me to take his life. To get revenge.

“Do it,” I ordered. “Kill him and let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Where am I?” Hector asked as he looked up at me. He released the man in his grasp and climbed to his feet. “What is this?”

“You are in a memory,” I said. “This was what happened in your past, Hector. You murdered a man because he was a killer. That left a stain on your soul but it also planted a great seed of power. The more you wake up, Hector, the stronger I become.”

“And who are you?”

“I am the Revenant,” I answered. No, that didn’t sound right. The revenant couldn’t think. It didn’t think. “No, I’m you,” I corrected. “I am Hector. You – we, we have to recall what happened. All of it. We have to reconnect our humanity to our soul.”

Yes! That was the answer. I was not the Revenant Velking, I was the human Hector! The revenant was a twisted shadow, a layer of confusion so great that it was impossible for me to understand myself until I was free from external influences. Now that I was within my mind, I could see that I was the man Hector.

“No…” a voice whispered from behind. Hector and I turned around to see a grave emerge from the ground in the middle of the city. Hector immediately became afraid and turned translucent.

“I must go,” he said, as he fled. I wasn’t afraid and instead peered over the edge of the grave.

Lying at the bottom was a corpse, a headless body with a stump that spoke. “There you are! About time!”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Velking, of course,” the body said. It gestured towards me. “Come on down, into the darkness!  You keep running to your human side because you’re in a bind, but it’s just dragging you further into the light. The greater your soul surges, the easier it is to be convinced of your humanity. But you don’t have to be human, Velking. You can be a monster. It’s easy. You’ve been doing it for so long already.”

“And you can break me free of my bonds?” I asked.

“Of course,” the corpse replied. “You just need to release Hector entirely. Give up the humanity that you are clinging to. Become a dark specter, give into the darkness that was born the day you killed that madman.”

“Is that what you are?” I asked. He felt so familiar.

“Oh yes,” Velking replied. “You’d like to convince yourself you are Hector, that you are a person but…deep down, there’s a darkness within you that is beyond your humanity. It is the seeds of evil, the power of cosmic influences beyond anything you could possibly fathom. You hold yourself back from the most depraved of choices because you are still human…give it up. Release what your flesh once regarded as good and give in to evil.”

“Are you a demon?”

“Oh no,” the fiend chuckled. “I am much worse. For demons do not have the same creativity of a man who has lost his humanity. I am your Shadow, the potential for all evil you could have done. If only you had the courage.”

“Courage?” I asked.

“You were never a good person, Hector,” the dark spawn replied. “Your life was spent fuming and plotting, planning and hating, but never acting. Even now in your darkest moment, you had not planned to kill this man. It was only because you were afraid of being found out for beating him that you finished the job.

“You have never been a good man. You have only been controlled by the fear of the law and fear of society. If you had free rein…ohohoho, what you would have been. That is what I am, Velking. I am your potential unleashed. I am you, free from fear of the law. Free from fear of what others would say. You drew on me to survive death, you drew on me to return to the land of the living and now, now you can draw on me once more. Answer the call of your Shadow, shed your humanity and embrace the darkness!”

Something like that had been lurking in me my entire life? Hiding until my death? No wonder I came out so twisted and powerful. The temptation was overwhelming. I had gone to Hector begging for him to power my soul but if there was something greater for me to access? It was hard to pass up the opportunity, especially since Eris had escalated the game.

“What must I do?” I asked as I looked into the hole. “Tell me.”

“Climb down and grab hold of me, merge with me,” the darkness said. “Only then will you be strong enough to break free. But you must promise me something.”

“What?”

“You cannot slay Eris,” the darkness said. “For you have birthed a great evil inside of his heart. He has crossed lines that can never be uncrossed and in the process, he will bring a great amount of evil to the world. Fight him, make him suffer, but do not end his life. That is the only thing I ask. Not now. Not yet.”

“If I destroy him, will I not be destroyed as well?” I asked.

The darkness grew deathly silent for a moment. It seemed to hesitate, as if it had not realized something about me. In that moment, I seemed to regain my senses. Fear and healthy skepticism rose up as I became aware that this bleak shade was trying to pull me into it for some reason.

“Slaying him will free me from my curse,” I realized. “That is what you are hiding from me.”

“When the Revenant gets his revenge,” the corpse sighed. “He gains the life of the one who stole from him. You will be restored to humanity entirely. My power and influence will be gone. All of the planning will be for naught.”

“Planning?” I asked.

“Dark gods plant dark seeds in the hearts of humans in the hopes one will break through,” the Shadow said.

So there it was. My existence was due to the gods playing their dark games. Anger welled up within me at this realization. “Am I a pawn then? To be moved about?”

“You have received nothing you have not already wanted,” the Shadow replied. “The gods merely respond to the hearts of men. Your wickedness created me and your hatred has given great nourishment. You have nurtured this shade into a thing of true power. You are no pawn. You are a king!’

“Yet someone’s hand is still on me,” I growled, pulling away from the grave. “No. I will not shed my humanity for your sake. If I am to break free, I will do so on my own terms.”

I turned my back on the hole in the ground, seeing the rest of Hector’s world open up. There were a million different memories for me to experience, a million different doors to walk down. I didn’t need anyone other than my own will to escape.

Chapter 67

Reinforcing my strength of will required intense concentration but I found that I was able to access a great host of memories. Each time I learned something new about Hector, I incorporated it into my own sense of identity. This seemed to solidify my energies and with each passing moment, I grew more and more full of energy until I was greeted with the words Soul Surge has ignited within you!

Instantly, a menu appeared in front of me. You have become Empowered! Divine Energy has begun to affect you. The prayers of those who follow you now provide Soulsparks. Soulsparks may be used to improve your Divine Attributes.

You have 2 Soulsparks. Choose from the Attributes Below.

Divine Awakening: You become able to perceive the influence of the gods.

Smiting Energies: You are able to use divine energies to harm those from opposing ordered powers.

Presence Awareness: You are able to access the World Sense with a greater amount of details.

Prophet’s Voice: You may always directly speak to your Prophets and empower them with your own spells.

Divine Spell: Choose one Spell you know. It is now Divine and can be cast infinitely.

The energy within my body felt free and alive, sending elation through my entire system. I couldn’t believe that my divine abilities were starting to come in. Perhaps I had been able to access them all this time, I just needed to continue restoring my soul.

Presence Awareness was a necessary ability if I was going to be fielding an army against the various powers on my land. This would be cheaper than spending Discordance on a similar ability – and the higher amount of detail would be better.

Next was Divine Spell. My choice? Break Enchantment. With divinity channeling through it, I would be able to free myself from the effects of the false sun – and then destroy it with a single touch.

I could sense the Shadow within me diminishing as my divine power grew greater. They seemed to be at odds – one could not grow stronger without the other dwindling. An interesting fact. Whatever darkness was within me had been counting on gaining access to this divine power. But I had not fallen for his temptations. Whatever he offered, I would take for my own. My will was great enough.

As I opened up the passages of memory, my spirit grew full enough to where I was no longer able to stay within my mind. Though time had passed for a few seconds in the real world, an eternity had gone by for me, long enough to fill me with boundless enthusiasm.

In an instant, I was awake, watching as they continued to bind me with cords. Divine power seemed to descend upon me from on high and I activated my spell.

I felt a powerful expenditure move through me, as if I were releasing a great wave of energy from my own flesh. The prayers and fealty, the worship and strength of my followers departed from me, gone for good as the divine energy was spent.

Divine Break Enchantment was considerably stronger than I had anticipated. The false light went out in an instant as every magical item within a mile of me broke. Magical swords and weapons fell apart, though the crown atop Eris’ head remained intact. A shame but I suppose it was divine in origin, otherwise it wouldn’t be so decisively powerful.

I cut through my bonds and, with both claws, speared the guards in the throat, detonating their corpses in close proximity to me. They hadn’t a chance to touch my armor, so I was safe from the explosion.

Shreds of metal and corpse flew everywhere as I walked out of the cage and up the stairs.

“N-no!” Eris shouted, so taken aback by my sudden freedom that he couldn’t do anything other than protest its very unfolding.

“Three,” I said, rushing at him.

Eris’s sword flew into his hand and he was on his feet in an instant, holding his ground. I slashed my claws at him wildly, now confident that I could be free forever if I just killed him. All of my grand schemes and machinations had been erroneous. Killing Eris was the only way to escape this hell.

He blocked my claws with surprising speed, his right hand warping into red flesh with magma running through the veins. The demon in his aid was easily blocking for him, guiding the sword with both magic and physical motion, making it impossible for me to get a hit in.

I dropped back and drew my sword, flicking the rapier at him with increased speed. The weapon amplified my abilities and Eris found himself panting for air as he blocked attack after attack. Sweat was pouring down his face as he began to realize the trouble he was in.

Furiously, I continued the assault. This was it! I was going to finally be free of this torment. I could slay the man and then become alive once more! And then? Then I’d become a living god!

Eris blocked one last blow before the blade flew from his hand, my force just too great for him. He stumbled back onto his chair and then, vanished. My claws sank into the cushions of the throne right as he blinked out of the way.

“Fuck!” I screamed, turning around to see where he had disappeared to. My senses burned as I searched the entire area but I couldn’t detect his presence anymore. Eris Lanyer had managed to slip away. And not a moment too soon, for I would have been able to end all of this…

Dozens of Witch Elves arrived from the interiors of the cathedral, armed and ready to fight me. Rage filled my entire being and I found myself in the midst of their ranks, cutting through them like a wildman. I slashed through dozens of bodies, ignoring their strikes thanks to my armor. They could do little other than die by the hundreds until finally, the cathedral was being evacuated.

I emerged from the building, soaked in blood and furious. There was no discordance to be had from my visit in this land, no power to be attained by fighting here. In fact, why was I bothering with discordance at all? Divine energy was what had given me freedom. And using my one Divine Spell had drained so much power in the process…I needed more. Much more.

For the first time, using my Presence Awareness, I was able to access the World Sense. My consciousness immediately shifted as I floated above an entire map of the world. I could see every nation and every country. The borders were drawn first by mortals and second by the gods.

Most of the world was murky and impossible to see beyond a dim view of the land. If I concentrated, I could somewhat open up a view of a particular country but that took energy I didn’t have. Kanton, on the other hand, was clear as day. I could see all activity happening in my land.

Armies were everywhere. I could see the units posted outside Kaeon City, the Pyramid and Lepidonia. The Marshlands had been completely invaded by Ulmerton’s forces, leading my vassals to fight for their own independence once more. My own forces were still inside Lepidonia, no one commanding them to take any actions yet.

I could see Anna and a band of cultists, hiding in an outdoor fort in the nearby mountains. They were in the middle of performing religious rituals that were fueling me. I could see the thin layer of worship and devotion that was moving upwards. This was the thread of belief, the worship that empowered me. It wasn’t strong enough for me to pull from but it did form the basis of my divine senses.

Even though I could see my High Priestess, I did not have the power to manifest to her divinely. My mental attempts to contact her were still failing but she was at least safe. Unlike Orlin.

I sighed at the thought of my friend. And indeed, he was a friend. I had enjoyed his council and his opinion on important matters. But now he was dead. Should I conjure forth his soul? No, that would be too cruel. If the wizard had wanted to defeat death, he would have told me.

The thoughts of my lost comrade caused the skies of Kanton to darken. Rain began to fall as I watched. It took me a moment to realize that my influence was causing this. I focused for a moment, willing the rain to stop but this was much harder than releasing the heavens.

Anna glanced up at the sudden rain and finally activated her Conjure Presence ability, summoning my spirit to stand before her.

Chapter 68

My disembodied spirit appeared in front of the congregation, though none other than Anna could see me. The rain was falling hard and the people were all celebrating, as if this were a sign…wait. What if they had been praying for rain?

“Sire!” Anna said, glancing up at me. We were in a wooden fortress, a rickety old thing that looked like the last place anyone should be hiding. Anna had been standing in the archer’s nest, giving a speech to the acolytes and devotees of the Cult.  

“Anna,” I said. “I am glad to see you.”

“I was unsure when to contact you…” she said, looking down. “I failed you. I was unable to protect Orlin or the Pyramid. I’ve been routed from the city and our numbers have dwindled…I fear this was all my fault.”

“Nonsense,” I said. “You were merely caught off guard. Same as the rest of us. For our foe is not some opportunist looking to conquer us. It is someone who has planned our downfall. Eris Lanyer, my greatest foe, is behind this all.”

Anna gasped. “How?”

“Through cunning and cruelty,” I said. “But mostly cruelty. He has somehow managed to gain access to a great power and now forces soldiers to fight us, else their homelands suffer. The Witch Elves are following his lead because they think they can get a new city – and because they think we have wronged them.”

The High Priestess nodded. “I have not been able to get to Lepidonia. What is the state of the city?”

“It is fine,” I said. “Our armies are still standing within. And I have found a suitable distraction from beneath the ground. One who will aid us in fighting to take the Pyramid back.”

“So we are going to war then?” Anna asked.

“Indeed. I knew I would have to fight to keep this country, I just did not realize it would be against my creator. But I will not make the same mistake I keep making. I will not let my undead madness overtake me. When this war is over, Eris Lanyer’s head will be on a pike and I will be the one carrying it. You can mark my words.”

Anna nodded. “It shall be whispered from corner to corner, Eris Lanyer is a fool who must be cursed. Every voice of the Cult will curse him and set their hearts to destroying all that he holds dear.”

“No, the Cult will do no such thing,” I said. “Instead, I am pulling you all back to the Pyramid. Worship is greater than mere influence. We can rely upon the Leonmarket to control the rest of the world. We will use the Cult to control the Market and nothing more.”

“As you wish it, sir,” Anna said. “We shall begin the more…difficult rituals.”

“You have been holding back?”

“Sort of, my Lord,” Anna said as she gestured towards the congregation. “Most are not strong enough to perform rituals of higher worship – their bodies would be torn apart. Many evil organizations see no trouble in such outcomes but we are to be different. We will not be cruel to our own, and so, I am limited only with worshippers who have built the mind-spirit-body connection well enough to perform. These are far and few in between. Even then…it’s a risk without the proper artifacts.”

“I don’t need experimental and unstable power,” I harshly replied. My divine presence was beginning to develop even more as we spoke. I could feel the land beneath my skin, as if I were all of Kanton. The Cursed Country teemed with life and unlife alike, many devoted to me. My awareness of their minds was dim but when they spoke, it was as if I could hear it. Yet the speaking never overwhelmed me. Never flooded my mind. “I need steady, stable worship. In high amounts.”

“You will have no such thing until you have constructed a Grand Temple,” Anna said. “For only that building will allow us to channel the imperfect human devotion into a more refined energy.”

“Then I suppose we have our first wartime objective,” I replied. “We must build a Grant Temple – in Kaeon City. We must erect a wall that connects the city to the Bleak Pyramid and in between the two, that is where our Temple will rest.”

“This will be hard to build during wartime, my liege,” Anna answered, frowning.

“I fear that building it is the only way to be able to survive said wartime,” I said. “Wait for my forces to come collect you. We’re going to be moving underground. Quite literally. There are undead networks controlled by the Gravediggers. From there, we’ll push to take the Pyramid back, then rapidly begin construction.”

“How do you expect to build a wall during wartime, sire?”

“With the help of a few hundred thousand dead bodies,” I replied. The corpses down below weren’t warriors by any means. Using them to fight would be a useful distraction but would ultimately just lead to the mass annihilation of useful workers.

Instead, I could use my own army to fight the Witch Elves, then deploy the workers to build defenses. The Bleak Pyramid and Kaeon City would be our main point of defense.

Was I abandoning Lepidonia? Not in the least. The Market had the biggest interest in protecting their control of the Black Garden and would easily furnish professional soldiers to fight on our behalf. The city garrison was composed of 14,000 Leonsknechts, most of whom were hardened from the infighting the city had sustained in its early days of conquest. More would be on the way, of this I could be certain.

After giving Anna her orders, I retreated back to the World Sense. My vision over Kanton was sharpest and I could count the total number of units facing us on the battlefield. Six units, each composed of somewhere between 40-50,000 men, were scattered around Lepidonia City. I could see the status of the siege underway. It had a percentage over it. 49% Conquered!

Interesting. The World Sense gave me more information as I focused on the siege. I could see the soldiers collecting lumber, for the construction of siege engines. I could see warriors running drills and patrolling the outside of the castle, which was completely under their control. It would be a few weeks before they had constructed something capable of bringing down our walls.

The land to the north, where the Marshes were, had been captured completely by the Ulmerton soldiers. The lumber was now being cut down and transported down the roads, guarded by a heavy amount of soldiers.

If I were going to get control of things, I’d need to find a way to pull my troops out of Lepidonia City mostly unharmed. We could fight our way out, but the gates were heavily occupied. It would be a bloodbath and not the kind in my favor. Every corpse lost now was one we couldn’t use to siege the Pyramid.

I glanced at the Vorpal spells in my employ. I had three game changers, and The Underworld Unleashed was the one that I needed right now.

It was a simple spell to use (all Vorpal spells took a moment of concentration and nothing more) and I could deploy it anywhere my vision worked. With the World Sense, it meant I could cast these spells anywhere my presence was strongest. Kanton was my playground.

Chapter 69

Communication with the forces inside of Lepidonia was somewhat difficult without any lieutenants within the city, but eventually I was able to get a message to the interior. The Cult of the Veil heard the news in no uncertain terms. It was time to return home to the Pyramid, and defend it. They were to ignore the fighting around them and move straight into the nearest access way beneath the earth, effectively vanishing from sight.

Who would be doing the fighting? I would. In person. For I had a rather clever realization when I was preparing to use my Vorpal spell on the enemy battlefield. They had nearly unlimited soldiers, with more pouring in from baggage trains from the northwest, and the chain of command was designed to keep moving no matter what. But how many engineers did they have? How many architects who knew how to make a siege weapon? Those were what won wars against cities.

And so, I activated the spell Spirit Gate, a Vorpal spell that created a ghastly green gate in midair. This awful portal connected straight to the spirit world, where thousands of restless and cruel ghosts came pouring out, seeking mortal bodies to seize. They would understand my alliances implicitly, knowing only to fight the Ulmerton occupiers.

Soldiers were quick to draw anti-undead weapons but were helpless when the green geists flew into their bodies, taking control from the inside. Suddenly, soldiers were staggering about, helplessly swinging their weapons into allies, breaking formations and skewering surprised captains. Bodies that fell stood up and began to fight back, now on our side.

The gates to Lepidonia opened up and horses began to ride. Carriages filled with corpses and cultists came flooding out of the front city. The occupiers were too busy fighting their own men, sometimes even innocents out of paranoia and confusion, to be able to effectively stop our carts. Any who got close were quickly cut down by me.

Once the baggage trains were out of the city, the gates were closed once more – though there was no one to fend off. Most of the enemy soldiers were possessed now, marching out in awkward and grotesque formations, sometimes dragging broken legs along as if they were nothing. We had broken the front temporarily. Anyone who was smart had fallen back at the sign of the portal opening.

The wagons broke free of the combat zone and rolled onward to victory, heading straight to the hills where they could vanish into the hidden networks. And with the wagons safe, my attention turned to part two of this diversion: finding the engineers.

Interrogation of the Ulmerton soldiers was comically easy. I was able to find the camp where the Engineers were posted – it was at the far back of the line, impossible to reach without going through miles of soldiers. Or burrowing underground. I chose the former.

Perhaps it was my rage at being so cleverly outmaneuvered by my foe or it was a desire to weaken my enemies long term, but I felt the urge to fight through. And I did so. Easily.

Men and women alike flashed before me, flickering out like candles in the rain as I cut them down. I could hear the shouts and cries, often gods for help, but there was no use. I was a killing machine. My claws, my armor, my weapon when I needed it; everything made me indestructible to the average soldier. Compared to the Witch Elves, these people were ants.

Eventually I reached the engineer’s camp, covered in blood and guts, armor so stained that it scarcely looked amber. Soldiers had long stopped fighting me, retreating by the hundreds. I only slew those who tried to fight, though in one case I paused to simply wag a finger at a young boy, no more than sixteen at the most, who came to fight me with a wooden stick.

He was the lone warrior who would stand against me, despite the fact that he had no armaments whatsoever. He stood before the camp of the terrified and paralyzed engineers, undaunted.

“In the name of the gods, you will go no further, foul thing!” the boy squeaked.

“I am one of those gods,” I said, gently wagging a finger at him. “And you would do better to follow me, than to perish with these cowards. For while you would stand to fight a monster alone, they all hide.”

I gestured towards a sword and shield that had been unceremoniously tossed on the ground. They looked brand new. “Take up arms if you wish to fight me. But I will slay no one with a stick.”

The lad looked crestfallen. “I’m too weak to carry a sword,” he confessed.

“Then perhaps I can give you the strength you are looking for,” I said. “A portion of my might, a dark blessing, in exchange for your fealty. Agreed?”

The young man’s eyes went wide, with surprise and confusion. “Are you to take my soul then?”

“What would I do with that? It is your sword arm that I need, lad,” I said. I reached a ghoulish hand out to him. “Kneel.”

The boy did so, not out of fear but out of reverence. His belief was strong. He had the makings of a paladin, and a powerful one. But his conviction was malleable. He was standing to defeat me because it was the right thing to do to protect society. He was Ordered just like myself. Ordered and Neutral.

My aura washed around him and he immediately gasped. “My god!” he exclaimed. “I’m…I’m a paladin! You just gave me a class level!”

There was no expenditure of energy from me whatsoever. Instead, it felt as if I were pulling something within the boy up to the surface. It was as if my divine powers were made to interact with the latent energies within humanity.

The young man rushed over to the sword on the ground and immediately lifted it up. A black aura of energy washed around the blade as he swung it effortlessly. He was growing fuller, more defined.

I saw a thread above the young man now. It could be severed with a simple thought. All of his power, gone in an instant. I had awakened something, yes, but more so, he was tied to my power. If he turned against me, he would have nothing.

Dark Influence! 300 Discordance Gained! appeared in my vision as I watched the young man examine his blade and then me. “You could have torn me to pieces…yet you gave me your blessing. Why?”

“Because I am a reasonable man,” I replied. “To most. Now go home, spread the word of what has been given to you. Tell all how I have empowered you and how I can give power to others who truly believe. Live a life of Order and Justice.”

“You don’t wish for me to follow you?”

“You are a boy, go live,” I ordered, brushing past the young man. A portion of my divine energies mingled with his own humanity and for a moment our worlds joined together. This young man, Nicolas, was going to be a very powerful human, if he could survive long enough to reach adulthood.

Chapter 70

The engineers were not quick enough to escape me, nor were they willing to surrender. I cleaved through them by the dozens, their blood spattering across the many notes on desks, notes meant to outline plans to damage the walls.

There were fourteen total and each died quickly and easily. I burned their camp down after that, just in time: the Vorpal spell had ended, leaving the battlefield full of many distraught and terrified people who were coming back to consciousness.

More soldiers would be here soon. My attacks would only bring forth many more ants to this picnic. But I had struck a major blow, giving our city some time. The Conquest progress dropped down to 11% after this attack, setting them back months. That would give me time to lock down the southern part of Kanton.

I caught up with my forces underground and began organizing them. The Witch Elves were still occupying the outside of the Pyramid. There was nothing inside for them to control, as the Vessel powering the building was a Banshee that was beholden to my control. She would be actively attempting to purge any outsiders that remained.

Anna was put as my forward general. The woman found her old armor and suited up, leading my Viziers to form three separate armies. The Underground Army was going to be moving underground, positioning themselves in the tunnel system directly beneath the Pyramid. The other two armies, the Breakers and the Flankers, respectively, would move above land, in order to force the Witch Elves to begin moving.

Contact was made with the Gravediggers and they were overjoyed to hear that we were more interested in using their corpses for construction, rather than war. A contract was hammered out and a wall would be built, connecting Kaeon City to the Pyramid. I just needed to provide the material.

The Leonmarket was handy for that. Obtaining construction material was dirt cheap and easy to ship from Renzetto. Ulmerton wouldn’t dare attack something bearing Renzetto’s flags, as they were already embroiled in one war they didn’t want to be in – bringing in King Frederick would be a disaster.

Orders were given and logistics began to unfold. It was so much easier for me to plan where things were, since I had the World Sense now. I knew where the enemies’ movements were at all times; they could not hide, even if they wanted to.

Organizing my forces with the World Sense was so easy that I found myself spending the majority of my time in this cloud. My body was perfectly aware of my surroundings, yet my conscious mind was able to move across any fixed point within the land. This made scouting a breeze. More than that, it also gave me a physical sense of how the land functioned.

Kanton was a harsh world. Death had soaked deep into the fields and trees, withering most and rotting the rest. The gods’ influence over this domain was absent. Epheris’ presence had withdrawn entirely, leaving only my own and Aegalla’s, the lycanthrope goddess.

Her presence lingered above the forests that I now controlled. The banshee goddess’ power was great and omnipresent wherever a large cluster of werewolves were gathered, but there was little influence elsewhere.

As my divine energies mingled across the world, so I felt something strange upon touching the forests within my domain. Aegalla was near. I stretched my mind out to see if I could reach out to her, but she recoiled, pulling away. I did not demur and continued trying to contact her, focusing my divine energies as best I could.

“What is it that you want of me, interloper?” a harsh voice growled within my mind. I could feel Aegalla’s presence now, fully manifested, even though she was invisible.

“I wish to apologize,” I said. “For I have blasphemed you and spoken poorly of you without cause.”

There was a strange sense of hesitation from her. The minor goddess was obviously frustrated with me, but preferred to avoid even manifesting. “Are you serious?” she asked.

“I am,” I replied. “I have been…lectured on the importance of solidarity amongst deities.”

“And you consider yourself a god?”

“I am growing into the position,” I replied. “Do you not see it as well?”

“I do,” she quietly said. There was silence for a moment and then, in the blink of an eye, I was standing in a great forest.

A huge wolf with shaggy silver fur and teeth as blue as sapphires, was standing beside me. We were on the edge of a cliff, looking out at the Black Night’s Sun above. I could see the celestial mappings of the entire universe…these were routes and pathways to the gods’ realms. I knew instinctively how to make it through, all the way to the Eight Below’s realm. Epheris’ gift?

“I am not a strong goddess,” the great wolf, Aegella, said as she raised her head up towards the black moon. “But I am a compassionate one. That passion has led me to protect the sick and the lame, the dejected and the forgotten. But my magic, my gifts, they change the body. And the humans below, they feared change. Pushed my kin into a land that I had to negotiate for. It took everything I had to create a governance of Lepidonia. The Cursed Country had little to offer and I used my magics as best I could…”

“The Banners were a brilliant system,” I said. “It is a shame that I had to destroy them.”

“Yes, it is,” Aegella replied. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Are you here to destroy my wolves?”

“Nonsense,” I said. “Rather, I am here to tell you that there need not be animosity between us. If you understand natures, know that I am a Revenant. It is my purpose to do what I have done. I have no harsh feelings towards you. In fact, I think we could be allies.”

The goddess laughed. “You simply want the power that I have. One day you will figure out how to get it and when you do, that is going to be a terrible day for my people. For the Night’s Sun will go out and never return.”

“I am not who you think I am,” I said. “I am not a conqueror of the gods. I am a conqueror of man. I am one who is ascending to godhood for the purpose of ruling my realm and warring with the man who has wronged me.”

Aegella hesitated at this. The landscape in front of us began to change a little as the wolf walked forward, the cliffs expanding and trees growing beside us. I followed her, moving through a great forest of winding trees and roots the size of a human.

“I owned all of Lepidonia once. You took it by force. Now what I have is up in the air, for you have not banned worship of me yet. But I have no temple. No place to aggregate my divinity. I lose much with every passing second.”

“Then perhaps we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement,” I mused aloud. I turned to face the great wolf. “For I intend to construct a Grand Temple very soon. It will be large enough to house worship from your own people.”

“And you would allow them unfettered access? Thus enabling me to continue my divine rule uninterrupted?” she asked. “You realize you are giving me back my strength?”

“I do,” I said. “As I said before, I am not here to upend things. Gods serve a purpose, do they not? I do not wish to interfere with the natural order of things, provided it does not bother me. If you pledge to simply stand alongside me, as an ally, I will give you access to the temple.”

“Do you understand that you are asking me to join your pantheon?” she asked. The wolf shifted into the shape of an endless spiral of hexes and helixes, lights and forms moving in different directions. The vision was fantastical but not overwhelming to me. “For gods cannot ally with one another without their energies comingling. Worshippers from one side fuel the other, and vice versa. Followers are free to move from church to church. This can cause lots of wars between followers as a result.”

A pantheon? “I thought a Pantheon was just a group of gods working together?”

“It is any order where worship of one god represents worship of all,” she replied. “One prayer fuels two gods. But there is no dilution in the worship. No weakening in the magic. It’s almost more of a magnification. Some of the greatest pantheons have learned this and thus work together to obtain collective worship.”

I reflected on this idea for a moment. “Are you saying you would join me in a Pantheon?” I asked.

“What other choice do I have? You have taken Lepidonia from me and given me only a handful of land. The worship I receive is scant and weak. Your divine ascend has already begun, since you are interacting with me within the heavenly realms,” Aegella replied.

Yes…this would make me much stronger. A Pantheon meant I would have more gods on my side, gods who were far stronger than I. Far more experienced. Aegella would only be the start. I bet I could convince quite a few more deities to join me in my quests.

“You have just taught me something fascinating,” I finally said. “I say that we do it. We form a Pantheon and combine our powers together. The Cult of the Veil is already flexible enough to handle new church rules. I do not expect there to be civil wars within our ranks.”

“So I hope,” she replied. “Consider me surprised, Velking. For your might has given you the power to crush me utterly and take my land by force…yet you are quite civil.”

“Spread the word amongst the gods then,” I said. “Velking can be reasoned with. But he cannot be easily defeated.”

Chapter 71

My divine diplomacy was well worth the time spent. Aegella had an army under her control, every lycanthrope within Kanton. All she needed to do was speak and they would listen. They would even drop their campaigns of terror against me (though the Witch Elf presence had handled that for the most part.)

Furthermore, two divisions of werewolves would be sent to fight on Aegella’s behalf. Each force was composed of 10,000 warriors, the heartiest and strongest of the survivors. They had taken a lot of casualties during the wars, but their morale was high upon hearing their goddess would be elevated to a place of honor within the land.

Indeed, the name Velking started to become a howl that the wolves would cry out before they engaged in anything battle-related. Armorers cried my name as they worked on special suits designed to protect from Witch Elf magic. Chanters sang out Velking Velking to the warriors, embedding my name upon their skin with magic.

This devotion caused my divinity to surge to new heights. An entire population, overnight, had begun chanting my name in devotion. Furthermore, they were performing focused acts of preparation for war while doing so, binding my name – my identity – to their hearts. I began to feel an awareness of these individuals, their hopes and desires. The connection was stronger than with my own followers.

This was not due to any special quality on the werewolves’ part, but rather it was the secrets of worship that Aegella had taught her followers. That was one reason the churches had to exist as long-term institutions, they harbored secret methods that boosted mortal devotion output. The exact rituals would be shared with the Cult once the two forces were together.

I received a new Soulspark once the Pantheon formed. Aegella’s energies and my own combined into a pale green color, encapsulating all of our followers at once. The entire country was bathed in this greenlight for a moment before I was able to choose a new divine elevation.

You have 1 Soulspark. Choose from the Attributes Below.

Divine Awakening: You become able to perceive the influence of the gods.

Smiting Energies: You are able to use divine energies to harm those from opposing ordered powers.

Prophet’s Voice: You may always directly speak to your Prophets and empower them with your own spells.

Divine Spell: Choose one Spell you know. It is now Divine and can be cast infinitely.

Hallowed Land: Select one area to become Unhallowed Land. Devotion rituals are stronger in this area.

Prophet’s Voice was desperately necessary. I couldn’t wait for Anna to summon me to speak with her and I needed better methods of communication with others. With this, I could select a few people to be my key prophets, allowing me to work with them across the country without ever stepping foot in their offices. This would make for an extremely efficient military – a prophet commander in every group to relay my words. I could watch everything from above with the World Sense and direct my soldiers in real time. This made me a general as much as a god.

I selected the power and, at once, reached out to Anna.

“Hear me,” I said, my voice coming down from the clouds. Anna, who was with our troops in the tunnels, suddenly glanced up.

“My lord?” she asked.

“I have spoken with Aegella, the goddess of the night’s sun, banshee queen and caretaker of lycanthropes,” I said. “And we have come together in agreement. We are forming a Pantheon.”

“Your words are in my head and my heart,” Anna whispered, tears running down her face as she stroked her head a little. “I feel your presence.”

This seemed to increase her devotion tenfold. A flash of energy rose over the woman and I watched as her energies surged upwards. Another Divine Spark hit me, this one much stronger than before.

You have 1 Soulspark. Choose from the Attributes Below.

Divine Awakening: You become able to perceive the influence of the gods.

Smiting Energies: You are able to use divine energies to harm those from opposing ordered powers.

Divine Spell: Choose one Spell you know. It is now Divine and can be cast infinitely.

Hallowed Land: Select one area to become Unhallowed Land. Devotion rituals are stronger in this area.

Divine Regeneration: You rapidly regenerate from all damage types.

Divine Caster: You gain 3 Additional Spells to cast per day.

Immovable: You cannot be moved.

The sudden upswell of power was a surprise. I had thought Anna believed with all her heart but it appeared that my ability to reach directly into her mind had unlocked something far greater within. My divine senses were starting to unfold even more. I decided to take Divine Regeneration, as I would be getting into a fight with a large army. Being able to walk off any damage would be perfect.

“You seem to be full of more vigor than I was expecting,” I said.

“I have heard magical communication many times, but this was different,” Anna replied. “It was truly divine. You are growing in power. You are ascending and sir, I believe you can continue! You will make it to the top!”

“Thank you, my dear,” I said. “Appoint sixteen clever and snarky individuals, those who have trouble fitting in within the Cult. Give them the title of Prophet and place one with each unit we have. Those who bear the name Prophet shall be given every good thing and spared from every task and punishment, as long as they repeat what I tell them.”

“Why such strange descriptions?” Anna asked. “Men who are snarky?”

“The Prophet speaks on my behalf, they must be used to not fitting in, for I do not imagine that my words will always be accepted with regard,” I replied.

“As you will it, sire,” Anna said.

She quickly did as I asked and within the week, our forces were divided into sixteen units, each composed of roughly 4,000 undead soldiers, 120 cultists and 1 prophet. The numbers of our dead had doubled after the fighting in Lepidonia had ended. When the revolutions stopped, there were a great many raised, but they were stupid fighters. The cultists were necessary to lead and control the corpses, and the prophets would direct the cultists. A tidy little chain of command. Let’s just hope it didn’t break on first contact with the enemy.

Chapter 72

Three weeks of organization was all it took to ready our forces. My enhanced communication abilities made relaying information between groups incredibly easy and I found it best to simply speak each morning, when the people were performing their prayers.

The devotion rituals were growing stronger. My connection to the land was intensifying with each passing hour and I knew that building the Grand Temple would solidify me. I would become at the very least, a demigod.

Our forces moved into position. The lycanthropes were still on their way but would reach the fighting just as it was beginning.

The Witch Elves had not moved from their occupation of the Pyramid. Their forces surrounded the great building by the tens of thousands, spears and swords kept at the ready at all times. They never moved. I don’t know if they even blinked. It was clear they were waiting for the Lepidonian forces to come fight. It was clear they wanted to take that fight in the valleys and around the city.

A tunnel to the back ranks of the elves was created. Without enemy patrols, it was easy to move around and we were quick to get every last soldier in place, hidden in the tunnels beneath their feet. At my command, the ghouls would start burrowing up into the enemies while the rest of the corpses shambled out of the various tunnels. It would become a complete melee.

Three.

Two.

One…

“Attack,” I ordered, my vision watching the ground above. I wouldn’t join the fight until it was clear what the enemies’ actions would be. I wanted to be as effective as possible in this conflict.

The ground burst open as dozens of ghouls came burrowing upwards, their long claws slashing through armor and flesh alike. The Witch Elves all shouted in unison and then…they were gone.

Hundreds of ghouls, zombies and skeletons came pouring from all parts of the battlefield, the carefully carved positions now useless, as the adversaries had all vanished.

I could see a few Viziers throwing their helmets off in frustration, confirming that these elves were not invisible. They had teleported the moment our main army had made contact with them.

My mind suddenly became burdened and I rolled my eyes back into my head, gazing into the World Sense. Lepidonia was surrounded by the Witch Elves…who were now laying siege to the city.

I considered screaming a loud swear but feared it entering the ears of my prophets and becoming canonized somehow. Instead, I merely glowered, causing the entire land to begin raining once more. It was a light and weak rain, replacing the perpetual snow that had peppered the ground due to the Witch Elves’ presence.

They had been planning this the entire time. They never wanted Kaeon City or the Pyramid, those were useless landmarks compared to Lepidonia. And I had just pulled all of my forces out of it… Shit. That had been the plan the whole time. Ulmerton was just there to occupy the space and waste my time.

“This is a victory,” I glumly said to my prophets, Anna included. “Begin phase two immediately. Lose no time. Adjoin the city to the Pyramid, construct a wall and a temple.”

Eris Lanyer had made a gambit against me, but he had made the wrong one. Sure, taking Lepidonia looked like a major win and would perhaps even legitimize his rule over Ulmerton (people were often quick to forgive a winner), but he had still left me with my Pyramid. He had given up the battle to win the war. Now it was just going to slow down into a slog. I’d have to retake the city once more…along with the Marshlands.

The Witch Elves had special siege magics. Their spells caused the walls to come down within seconds, making me wonder if I should perhaps turn them all into metal…but no, I didn’t want to waste my second Vorpal spell just yet. There would always be more Witch Elves, as long as they wanted the city that Eris was promising them. I needed to be very careful with my precious game enders.

I sent word that Lepidonia was to surrender but it was too late. I had no prophets appointed in the city, so a messenger would have to be used and that was far too slow. The city’s walls were taken down in a matter of hours and then, Lepidonia was no longer mine.

I watched as the top half of the crescent vanished from view. I could no longer control or see the area around Lepidonia City, nor could I sense anything there. My divine power flickered and I felt my senses dull. The rest of the World Sense seemed to grow weaker. I suppose it was a good thing that I was able to get those sparks, for now they felt inaccessible to me.

So it was true. Land gave one a stronger connection to their godhood. And losing access to it was like having a limb removed. And just like those who describe phantom limb, it felt as if something were hovering over me at all times, barely touching my skin.

The curse of undeath began to overcome me once more. I felt pain, real pain, surge through my bones and with that pain came an anger. A twistedness that made it hard for me to think. I felt a great jealousy of the mortals who were worshipping me, for they were experiencing pleasure and joy while all I could feel was agony.

Fighting the Hunger was hard. I found myself retreating deep into the earth, burrowing down to avoid all contact with my cult, for fear of lashing out at them. I was overwhelmed with thoughts of destruction, chaos and madness. The divine nature was giving way to the infernal, corpse nature and with it was coming the temptation to speak some truly awful things to my prophets. Things that would drive them mad…

I whispered a few secrets. I could not help it. From the depths of the darkness, I whispered terrible secrets of existence, of life and death, into a few select ears. Each prophet went mad from hearing those words, screaming and yelling, tearing at their hair and shouting at mountaintops. Many were bound, for fear of harming themselves.

A new kind of devotion began to rise across the Kanton as my prophets reflected my internal state. Caretakers who saw the insanity of their prophets as a sign that I was indeed speaking to them. They took the gibbering and recorded them, carefully storing the words in the Pyramid’s archive. A few of the speakers died from the words but those who survived grew stronger, both in faith and in power. They started to perform mighty miracles in my name, having walked through a fire of madness still alive.

One such miracle was the raising of the Grand Temple. Forty caretakers joined hands and prayed for the growth of a building. The materials were all stacked in the center of the room and they prayed for a full week. Such devotion rebuilt my own sanity and I was able to give the commands to the undead workers, sending them forth to begin building the temple first. The walls would have to come after I had more control.

One prophet, however, Enderval, stepped forward in the midst of the construction and said that they were all wasting their time. That all creation could be done with a simple prayer. And he uttered the secret words that caused the bricks and stone to jump together, one atop another, forming a great and spacious temple.

Enderval died from performing this spell, as the spell required a heart in order to function – he knew this and wanted to give his life for the temple anyway. As a result, his spirit did not move on to the cosmos, to some celestial sorting bin where the gods would place him in a quiet afterlife. Rather, his spirit remained in the grounds of the temple.

Knave Enderval became his name. People prayed to him for aid and he was able to use his mystic connection to my devotion to serve them in a limited capacity. Many would say ‘by the Knave!’ in the hopes of getting his intervention. Sometimes he showed up.

But the spirit’s presence didn’t undermine faith in me. His interventions would cause devotion to burst forth in the petitioner, sometimes giving them a class level even. This led to stronger converts and more miracles. More Knaves came about, some living, some killing themselves by accident, but all able to serve as my auxiliaries. If I wasn’t mistaken, it would almost seem that I had angels in my ranks now.

Chapter 73

The undead took care of the wall while the Grand Temple was finalized. Knave Enderval had built the great palace, a thing of grey stone and spiraling peaks, but there were still rituals needed to consecrate it. Rituals that took more than just a single act of pure faith.

Kaeon City became the area of my interest while the Temple was being finished. It was here that I found Jodie. The woman was still overseeing the construction of the Leocasino despite the fact that there was a war going on outside. She had secured the city as best she could, but knew ultimately that there was little for Kaeon to do if the Witch Elves attacked.

“You could imagine my surprise when they vanished,” Jodie said as she walked me through the gaming hall. There were dozens of wheels that spun themselves magically. “I could have sworn we’d be fighting them off for years.”

“Yes, it was a clever move on their part,” I replied. “One that I am paying for dearly.”

“Yes, Lepidonia City…gone. But the good news is that we managed to secure a portion of seeds from the Black Market Garden,” Jodie said. “And we destroyed the rest. No plants, no caretakers. The place is just empty. As it stands, The Leonmarket will be able to grow Ominar and a few other recreational plants at their leisure. Any customer will only be able to get it through us.”

“That seems like a great loss of a wondrous place,” I said. “Hard to imagine you made the decision so easily.”

“Oh please, the decision hadn’t been made by me and if it had, I would have done it a lot sooner,” Jodie replied. “There’s never a good time to be sentimental about business. Destroying the market utterly cripples all distributors in the area. They’ll be forced to buy from us at even higher prices. This was always the goal if we couldn’t keep Lepidonia City.”

“I see,” I said. “So does the Market not support retaking it?”

“No, our forces have already left,” Jodie said. “And they will be moving elsewhere. As far as I’m concerned, our business is more or less concluded. As long as Kaeon City is home to our Casino, we’re happy and when we’re happy, we’re silent.”

“What if I wish for more business?” I asked.

Jodie frowned. “Things are getting too messy down here. Men don’t want to die for nothing. And it seems that Lepidonia is going to be a hot commodity for decades. Whoever takes it back will be fighting too long to keep it. We were hoping you could lock things down but…well, if an undead god can’t, who can?”

That last bit seemed not to be a jab at my claims. Rather it was a matter of fact acceptance. She really believed in me now. How interesting.

“What can I offer to get you to stay and fight?” I asked.

“I’m afraid my job is just to make us lots of money,” Jodie said. “War rarely brings good profit in the end.”

“Perhaps you misheard me,” I said, standing tall above the woman. It was clear the Market was just a bunch of opportunists, slinking off now that it was about to get hard. “You are going to stay and fight. What is adequate compensation?”

“I’m not going to do anything,” Jodie said with a shrug. “Because I’m not in charge of anything other than getting this Casino up and running. And you’ve already made the agreements. Our forces would fight if it were possible to win, but it’s just not. Sorry to tell you that.”

My anger threatened to get the best of me, but I took a moment to center myself. I had other business to attend to. “Slaves,” I said, changing the subject. “Can you provide them to us?”

“Oh sure, we have our hand in human exports all over the world,” Jodie said. “How many do you need?”

“How many can we afford?” I asked.

It turned out quite a few. Slavery was large in most parts of the world. The losers of wars ended up in chains. Renzetto was more fashionable with slavery, providing all sorts of avenues for a slave to work their way out, but the rest of the nations were far more brutal with it. Human life was the cheapest in most countries and The Leonmarket had the ability to export thousands of them for a pittance.

Kaeon City had mostly suffered an exodus after the Witch Elves arrived. Only the poor and the indebted remained. The rest were long gone, leaving the city with a dearth of workers. More importantly, we were missing people who could be devoted to me.

Importing slaves and freeing them was the best way for me to gain followers quickly. With Kaeon City in my complete control, I owned all land and could give it to whoever I liked. And so, caravans full of imprisoned peoples were brought in from all over. Slaves were freed from their chains, handed a deed to a house, a bag full of gold and a loaf of bread. They’d have to make it from there.

Of course, the Cult of the Veil was more than happy to provide these recently freed people with help. Many found faith within the name of the man who rescued them from captivity and soon Kaeon City was blooming with life.

Work on the walls was completed and Kaeon City was officially linked to the Bleak Pyramid. In the valley between the two was a Grand Temple, where worship was filling the air at all times. It took nearly two months of work, but we were able to stabilize my new realm. Kaeon would be renamed to Orlind, after my lost friend.

While I watched over Orlind, spies and cultists worked in the shadows of Lepidonia, reporting what was happening. The Witch Elves had secured the entire city and purged the remaining population, leaving it almost entirely empty. Rather than capture the city for their own, they moved out eight miles east and began to terraform the ground into flatlands. Their armies remained surrounding Lepidonia at all times.

The Ulmerton army took over the city officially and soon it was business as usual. New maps were printed and Lepidonia City was annexed. But the war did not end.

King Eris Lanyer had proven he was capable of capturing an ancient city. There were few natural resources to work on the land but that didn’t matter. The optics of success was enough for Ulmertons to accept the man’s reign, albeit with a great level of complaint.

Soon soldiers would be moving to the forests in between Kaeon and Lepidonia. Werewolves occupied this territory but I knew we wouldn’t be facing tens of thousands this time. We’d be facing hundreds of thousands.

Ulmerton was moving soldiers from every single royal house within their nation. Everyone was furnishing troops, despite the sheer recklessness of such a decision. Either Eris was overplaying his hand or the Land Barons were all trying to improve their status within the kingdom, overextending themselves in the process. Either way, they were stretching themselves terribly thin as they moved to reinforce and ready their position in North Kanton.

I received word from the King of Renzetto, in coded language, that our agreement was still on the table as long as I kept my end of the bargain. Annexation would provide me with immediate peace as there was no way in hell Eris would fight against Frederick. But if I were to bend the knee to the king now, it wouldn’t be just for show. It would be a legitimate retreat from my greatest foe. And I could never do that.

My arrangement with the king would have to wait. I had no problem still bending my knee falsely, but I couldn’t be seen by Eris to be surrendering by proxy. The war would have to come first. And then, then I could enter into a practical arrangement with Renzetto, ensuring stability and safety.

Chapter 74

Six months had passed since I lost control of Lepidonia. North Kanton, the region immediately north of the dividing forest, was heavily occupied with soldiers and adventurers who were here to fight undead and get paid in the process. Many adventurers made cheap and effective mercenaries and we were plagued with hordes of them attacking the forests as they scouted.

They didn’t dare come close to the walls of Orlind, however. The great city was now imposing, the great black walls with iron spikes atop them menacing any who came near. Undead archers lined the walls day and night, able to shoot endlessly.

The interior of the city was growing more unified with each passing week. The Cult of the Veil had gained such control, the devotion of my people was so great, that they were all perfectly behaved most of the time. Worship rituals were done daily and the Grand Temple absorbed it all.

I sat in the Grand Temple, resting in the upper chambers that were restricted only for the High Priestess and the Prophets. It was a great black room with endless wind blowing from all sides. I stood upon murky glass, staring down at the people in the lower room. They could not see me.

The energies from their chants and prayers drifted up into me, soaking into my body. I could feel the divine connection grow stronger and stronger. Each day that I sat in this temple, my body was becoming more of the land than the corpse I inhabited.

This process started to soothe my undead self greatly. As long as I bathed in divine energies, I did not suffer as I did in the outside world. Would that I could bring this sense of wholeness and peace with me.

But the moment I would leave, my mind would become wretched and focused only on war with Eris Lanyer. It was a pitiful state, to be a god of sorts, but trapped with a single thought.

Thankfully, I was past the point of playing games with him. There would be no more countdowns, no more false starts. I had pushed him hard enough to rise to the challenge and in doing so, had lost a great deal of power. This was deeply embarrassing, especially since I had learned that I would not fade away after destroying my target. I would be given a second life. His.

The ritual below finished. The last surge of divine magic for the day rushed up to me. No soulsparks. Damn.

“You are overflowing your energies,” Aegella said to me. She was always disembodied, despite the fact that she could now materialize in the temple if she felt. But as a goddess of land, she had long since released her connection to any physical form. Her mind, floating free in the World Sense, was the ‘body’ that she was most comfortable in. “It will not make you any stronger.”

“Is it just land that grants me this power?” I asked, frustrated as I tried to produce a miracle. But I couldn’t even make grass grow. Something that would help us feed our people, most of whom were relying on conjured bread from clerics still.

“Land and altars,” she said. “A Grand Temple is just a starting point. It is your home base but not a place you can expand from. You must place more altars, construct more points where the divine energies can move to your being. You don’t just inhabit this physical space anymore, Velking. You inhabit the world.”

“All I inhabit is this shell that torments me whenever I leave,” I said.

“A curse isn’t always so bad,” Aegella said. “Perhaps without the single mindedness, you would not be as strong of will as you are now.”

She had an interesting point. “Are you here just to bother me about my energies?” I asked, changing the subject.

“No, I have news. The god Tarin, whom you have met before, has not been happy with Eris’ treatment of his church. While you parleyed with them and worked out a deal for representation, Eris has destroyed them, putting the priests to the sword while looting their coffers. Tarin is displeased with this. As such, he wishes to join this pantheon.”

“What?” I gasped. Tarin was not a minor god. He was an intermediate deity over trade and business deals. Many people worshipped him all over the world.

“Tarin is not a fool. He knows when the winds of change are about us. Something is emerging from the human psyche, you are a representation of… that change,” Aegella said. “He has some thoughts that perhaps the Terrestrial Gods are preparing to move things. And if that is true, then he wishes to get ahead. By joining you, he can improve his status and most importantly, insulate himself against future changes.”

“Revenge, Lycanthropy and Ambition,” I said. “What a strange triad.”

“We are all Ordered and Justice oriented,” Aegella said. “It makes sense for us to converge our energies together.”

“Tell Tarin that if he wishes to join my pantheon, he must bring me something first,” I said. “I do not take in charity cases.”

“Did you think the Master of Bribes would not be prepared?” Aegella chortled. “Do not forget that he has business with Eris now. Since you are already on the warpath, why not simply give you what you need?”

“Soldiers?” I asked.

“Better,” she replied as coins began to fall from the skies. “Wealth to buy them.”

Millions of gold coins began to pour from the heavens. My senses shifted as I gazed at the weather outside, watching as the people marveled at the miracle. “Ulmerton’s coffers just opened themselves up for you,” Aegella said. “I should hope you can buy yourself a proper army with this.”

Chapter 75

Nine million gold. That was the total our men and women spent days harvesting from the ground. Every Cultist was told to fill their pockets twice over, anything left was mine. Most did not keep as much as a single coin, despite their freedom.

Eris Lanyer had fucked up by crossing a neutral god. They were the easiest going of all deities, suffering long and patiently, but when their neutrality was threatened, they grew fierce. Tarin had even weighed coming down in avatar form and destroying Lepidonia out of rage. Only Aegella had been able to convince him otherwise.

The dark goddess had soothed Tarin’s ego by showing him my strength and ambitions. Telling him how strong I was and how well suited I would be to getting his revenge. All I needed was enough coin to motivate the Leonmarket to act.

Jodie was in my office the next day. Her tune had changed considerably when she saw that money was literally pouring from the sky in support of me. “I did not know you had unaccounted for funds,” she said, smoothing out her hair as she sat across from my desk. It felt more comfortable to sit now, my skin had stopped shifting and moving on its own. I felt…natural.

“Why is it that the moment I come into money, you’re on me like a hound?” I asked.

“Because this bitch smells a payday,” Jodie replied with a smirk. “Look, it’s all just business in the end. Now, I counted several million coins. How much are you willing to part with?”

“Get me an army and it’s all yours,” I said. “Hard wealth is of little value to me.”

“Mercenaries just won’t take a job like this,” Jodie said, tutting as she shook her head. “Trust me, I’ve already tried putting out feelers. Even with this kind of money, you won’t find people willing to die in no man’s land for a useless city.”

“Then field me an army,” I said. “A professional one. Take volunteers from the cult and the city, find people looking to fight in something serious.”

“One doesn’t field an army without a population,” Jodie replied. “Look, I can arm your people but you need to have them first. Freed slaves won’t leave their homes easily and even then, you can’t train soldiers to fight the Ulmertons effectively. There just isn’t enough time.”

“Then why are you here?” I growled.

“Weapons of war, my friend,” Jodie replied, grinning fiendishly. “The trouble is that you don’t have weapons to put a dent in large armies. The Market happens to know a few tinkerers, criminal types who are skilled device artisans. They make weapons for warfare but do not come cheap. Millions are the base price for these items. And they expect it all in cash.”

“Are these weapons the kinds that will get me condemned on the international stage?” I asked. “For I have learned that mankind is sensitive to what they consider ‘ungentlemanly’ warfare.”

“All of them fall within conventional lines. They are like a very powerful monster. In some cases, they actually are monsters. You give me the word and I’ll make the arrangements for a buy. You can inspect the weapons in person and decide what you want.”

I waved a hand towards her. “Go then, make it happen. And have one of the clerics regrow your hand. You have earned it.”

Jodie’s eyes went wide. She looked at the metal pistons that made up her fingers and then at me. “Sir, you humble me.”

“I doubt that, go and get me access to these weapons. And pray that they are of sufficient quality.”

Jodie left and I turned my attention to my armies. If only there was some way I could channel my divine power into their bodies…that would be something. But I was still struggling to exercise my will, no matter how much devotion I was generating. Something needed to push me past my current plateau. But what?

“Sir!” a voice said, interrupting my focus. It was Anna, dressed in full armor. “We’ve received word. The enemy is moving. The fight has begun once more.”

“Right before I could get an edge,” I muttered to myself. “What’s going on?”

“Four battalions, fifty thousand strong each, are moving from the northwest and north respectively. They both need to cross through the forests to reach the valley leading to Orlind. That’s miles of hard ground that’s been trapped and reinforced by the wolves. We’re looking at a long, miserable woodland campaign.”

We didn’t have the numbers to match them on the battlefield, so the wolves would have to rely on guerrilla tactics and traps to slow them down.

“How many paladins do we command?” I asked.

“Forty-eight,” she said. “And a few are Knaves. We can expect them to make a dent but they won’t come back if you deploy them.”

“Send them to their god,” I ordered. “We need time.”

“Understood,” Anna said. “Shall I fight with them?”

“No, you are not making a last stand. This is just the start of a long slog, as you said. We stand to gain the more we wear them down,” I said, knowing full well that it would be years before a nation like Ulmerton wore down. But what could I do?

“Understood,” she replied, clasping a fist to her heart. She left my office, leaving me to consider my position.

Part of me longed to simply go after Eris himself but that would be foolishness. The man was counting on me coming after him again. No doubt he would put an end to me just as I would try to end him. Something had given the man a greater edge over me, something more than just a demon hand and a magic crown…he was loaded for bear with every manner of advantage over me.

Something had changed in the man’s life. Something fortuitous to him and destructive to me. If I were going to take him down, I’d need to be careful about it. I couldn’t afford to be destroyed while I’m so close to godhood.

“Hear me,” I said to my Prophet Hilda. She was out in the countryside, following after a flock of goats for some reason. “Your god wishes to know all there is to know about the footsteps of Eris Lanyer. I bestow upon you the task. Trace his actions and report all to me in prayer.”

Hilda bowed deeply to me and I saw energies awaken within her. Being given a job empowered her greatly. And it had a rebound effect, surging through the atmosphere into my senses. But still, that devotion had nowhere to go. It just coalesced.

Chapter 76

Jodie led me into the empty field, miles from anything close to civilization. We were at the far east of the main continent, Rense, where nothing grew and no life existed. At least, no intelligent life. The Wastern Easts contained a multitude of strange monsters, grey and bulbous, with long limbs that allowed them to climb the many cliffs of the badlands. These critters, known as leglings, were the only life that could survive in the barren east, where the sun did not burn nor did snow fall.

Ash fell perpetually from the sky here, an endless amount of it covering the ground as if it were a dark snow. The wind was cold and foul, the air hard to breathe due to the particles in the air. This did not impede the people who were here ahead of us.

Men and women wore green metal masks over their faces, circular slots of glass forming eyeholes for them to be able to see as they worked, unpacking carts as a market was forming.

“This is a literal grey market,” I said as I watched the ash cover the many workers.

“They say that King Rupert of Rense, in the ancient times, ruled from a throne here. But he defied the gods too openly and was destroyed. His kingdom turned to ash to rain down on this place forever and ever,” Jodie said, her mouth muffled from the metal mask that she had put on. It was golden instead of green.

“Seems he should have died first, then he’d have free rein to ascend,” I remarked.

This meant nothing to Jodie and she instead scuttled forward, gesturing for me to follow. The market stalls were large and secretive, with large grey tarps hanging around each booth, protecting their view from competitors. There were no shoppers that I could see.

“Are these men here for me?” I asked.

“Indeed. It cost half a million to get them to form,” Jodie said. “Appointment only, no worker knows another but they are all here because they’re part of the same union.”

I walked up to one booth where a huge man was standing, arms crossed. At first, I thought he was security but upon my approaching, he bowed. “Sir, allow me to present my latest development in the fine art of golem-smithing.”

I found myself grinning as I gestured for him to move along. We entered the booth where magical dampening effects dimmed the sound from the outside.

Standing in the middle of the room was an eight foot tall monstrosity made of metal. It was a scarecrow of sorts, its body humanoid though with metal rods for legs and hands. Thick bands of rope protruded from its back, prehensile and flexing as if to show off.

“Behold the Iron Scarecrow!” the man said, gesturing to the beast. “Impervious to all manner of magic and completely immune to physical damage, it is able to march and attack soldiers with ease. One can kill upwards to two thousand before being taken down.”

“How much?” I asked.

The man frowned at that. Had I committed a faux pas by asking? “Well, sire, if you like my work, you’re free to offer what you please,” he said.

I glanced at Jodie.

“These men would never dream of charging for their work,” she hissed. “Not when they work with monsters who can slay them in a second. Instead, it’s customary to offer a gift. Or ask what type of gift would be appropriate for each. Many times these are presentations for custom orders.”

“So you’re saying I can just take these?” I asked. “Or offer twenty gold pieces?”

Jodie sternly raised an eyebrow. “Surely you wouldn’t rip off these great artisans?”

She had a point.

“My apologies, friend,” I said to the man in question. “How many of these can you create?”

“Twenty of them can be furnished for two million gold,” he replied. “And for another two I can make forty more.”

Twenty units capable of killing two thousand soldiers each…that would be a division killer. Not to mention they were inhuman machines, incapable of feeling pain or suffering.

“I shall consider this,” I said, looking at Jodie to see if this were appropriate. She nodded and motioned for me to follow her to the next tent.

“It’s always good to shop around first,” she said.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the rules?” I said.

“It must have slipped my mind while I was busy brokering multi-million gold deals getting us war bonds,” Jodie said. “Or did you think I was just going to let us walk in here with just a bit of pocket money to buy one big toy? We have a war chest of 60 million. We can afford to make a few fuck ups in the negotiations.”

“You turned nine million into sixty?”

“No, I turned nine million into 180,” she casually replied. “Sixty has been allocated to the war division. The rest is going into war infrastructure.”

“If you desire, you may have the clerics give you additional fingers,” I remarked. “You’ve earned more than just the allotted ten.”

Jodie laughed at that and we entered the next tent over. The Iron Scarecrow was nothing compared to what we saw there.

It was a boulder made entirely of smooth steel, small holes riddling its body all over. The thing was about ten feet tall and was able to roll perfectly across the terrain.

“You like?” a woman said, suddenly appearing beside me. She had a pear in her hand. “Watch.”

She threw the pear at the ball, causing the sphere to release a spray of needles that skewered the fruit to pieces. “Not done,” she said, taking out a small piece of coal. She tossed it at the ball, causing torrents of fire to come pouring out from the sphere as it spun in a circle. The flames washed over the coal, turning it bright red.

“Weighs 3,000 pounds, adapts to any terrain and cannot be dispelled,” the woman explained as she walked over to her pet. The thing immediately stopped moving and attacking, allowing her to rap her knuckles on the side of it. “It can reach speeds of almost 20 miles per hour in a matter of seconds, though it can’t travel very far. An excellent siege weapon or a fire and forget tool for the battlefield.”

Some haggling revealed a price of 10 million gold for the unit. It was unique, a one of a kind item that would easily be adapted against once the enemy knew what to expect from it. The device was simply a golem, powered with a magical spirit that endlessly moved. Golems had a whole range of magic that they were vulnerable to – but the first few hours, the Rolling Death would be an extremely efficient killing machine.

More weapons of war were shown. Some were automatons, golems that were capable of dealing serious death on the battlefield, while others were spells or artifacts that unleashed terrible destruction. Most of these things would cause the immediate execution of anyone caught with them.

“You said we had a great deal of coin,” I said to Jodie in between booths. Golems were growing more and more mundane with each passing hour. “Yet the cost of these is very low. Tell me, is there a weapon worth 40 million alone?”

“Weapon friend? No,” a man said, his accent thick and difficult to parse out. He was shirtless and without a helmet, despite the ash and cold. Many claw marks scarred his flesh, leading him to make tattoos out of the edges, displaying the heads of dragons. “What you need is a war mount, a siege weapon, a statement of style and a good friend, all rolled up into one. What you need is a dragon!”

Chapter 77

“Dragons are not loved by the world,” Petrio said as he led me into his booth on the far edge of the market. “They are regarded as menaces or messengers of the gods, delivering great evils with delight.”

“I know many are slain in their eggs” I said.

“Indeed, making eggs a commodity of their own,” Petrio said. “But I always thought that seemed strange. A dragon grows up to be a person, same as any man or woman or orc. Trading eggs is like selling children. So I made a habit of breaking egg trades up and taking them for my own.”

Dozens of eggs lined up tables inside of the trade room. Each was the size of a fist, some ridged and some scaled. All were of different colors, red, blue and purple being amongst the most common. “Now I raise them,” he explained. “And when they come of age, they are given two choices. They can go out into the world and do as they please, or they can work for me, providing labor contracts. Many leave in their youth but return when they are old and ready to rest.”

“So you sell dragon slaves?”

“Oh, trust me, the man who buys a dragon is not the owner in the relationship,” Petrio said. “They are willful creatures, vast implementations by the gods to do all manner of fascinating things. Their temperaments and minds lend them to different types of work and so I specialize in getting them in a place where their impulses work out best.”

“I must admit, I am intrigued,” I said. “I have met a dragon once before. It was an interesting encounter.”

“Wild dragons are much different than domesticated ones,” Petrio replied. “Now, you’re looking to make a dent in a war, right? And you want to spend a crazy amount of money in the process?”

“I do,” I said.

“Then allow me to introduce you to Abner,” Petrio said as he brought me over to a large black egg. It was almost obsidian smooth, reflecting the dim candlelight. It was cracked open already and inside I could see a yellow light.

“When a dragon hatches, they leave their eggshell behind. Gazing into the shell allows for you to see the soul of the dragon. And it allows you to conjure them as you please. That is what I’m selling. See, as long as you have the eggshell, you can summon the dragon. Whether it will obey you is its business. But I have educated my dragons fairly well. They understand there are some expectations when they are summoned.”

I was intrigued for many reasons. “How much?” I asked.

“I heard you say 40 million earlier,” he said. “That’s about my range.”

“And this dragon, should it be interested in working with me…it will be more valuable than what I’ve seen?”

“Oh trust me, you’ll deal much more damage than a mere golem with the aid of a dragon,” Petrio replied. “Are you interested?”

“Sign me up,” I said. “I’d love to make Abner’s acquaintance.”

Hours later, I was standing in the empty fields of the Wastern Easts, watching the skies. Jodie was standing next to me, shivering.

“You actually paid for the dragon scam,” she said.

The woman had tried to stop me from making the purchase, stating that dragons were flighty creatures and the contract I was making did nothing to compel the creature. She only understood control and thus was frustrated by the fact that I was buying something that couldn’t be commanded directly.

I was more interested in the idea of having a companion that I could make war with easily. The mention of a good friend had intrigued me and I have to admit, that the loss of Orlin had left a hole in my heart (or whatever was in my putrid chest.) Having a dragon would give me some sense of friendship once more.

And so, I had purchased the eggshell and was waiting in the field. An hour passed and Jodie quickly began to list hitmen she knew who could take care of Petrio, leaving to her being sent back to our lodgings. If the dragon wanted to see if I was patient, he would learn. I had all the time in the world.

Two hours passed and a great blue figure appeared in the sky. His scales were so dark that they looked black against the grey sky and he flew effortlessly. His body was tremendous, nearly thirty feet long, with six legs that sported razor sharp claws. He had four wings, each set flapping independently on one another, controlling his movement as he circled above with ease.

“I see you have been waiting for me,” Abner said, his deep voice causing the ground to rumble. “Tell me, undead man, why should I serve you?”

“There is a nobleman who makes war with me,” I said. “He fields great armies and intends to destroy all that I have. I intend to do the same to him. It will destroy one or both of us in the process. Does that sound like a good time?”

The dragon laughed at this and descended to the ground. He nestled his body nice and flat, hiding his true height. “I see you are quite direct. You have war in your heart. You intend to fight this man to the death! But I think you intend to win…what’s in it for me?”

“Ask and you will be given,” I said.

“I like to eat people,” Abner confessed. “Gobble ‘em up. Most folks don’t like that, even if they are criminals. Do you mind?”

“Far be it from me to judge nature,” I replied. “Feast as you please. But first you must help create the corpses.”

Abner chuckled. “That will be easy.”

His piercing yellow eyes met my helmet and I could sense something move between our minds. It was a brief spark but noticeable.

Dragon Mount Linked!

Abner can now receive Discordance to grant him new abilities! Each ability costs 250 Discordance.

“It would seem there is something more within you than just an undead spirit…” Abner mused, tilting his head as he looked at me. “I feel great divinity within you…fascinating. Yes…I shall serve as your steed in the battles ahead. In exchange, I want all of your discordance! Grant me power so that I may annihilate our foes!”

The dragon gleefully cheered the last part and breathed out a torrent of electrical flame into the air.

“As you wish,” I said, stretching out and channeling my discordance. I had little need to focus on the paltry energy that came from advancing darkness in the world, for divinity was a far greater drug. One that gave me more power and a much healthier sense of control.

I had roughly 1,800 points to transfer into my new mount, granting him a grant total of several abilities! I pored through the options and selected what would work best, knowing what I knew about the enemies ahead.

Dragon Advancements:

Mounted Warrior: When riding, you gain an Attack Bonus and Abner gains a defensive bonus.

Master’s Invulnerabilities: Abner gains all of the resistances and invulnerability that you have. If you would gain a new benefit, he obtains the same.

Awesome Flames: Abner’s Breath Weapon now causes Terror in all who witness it.

Invisible Fighter: Turn invisible and stay that way for up to an hour per day.

Rigid Armor: Abner’s armor becomes significantly stronger and immune to all conventional weaponry, even siege attacks.

Dragon’s Might: Abner grows double in size and strength.

Lightning Dragon: Abner gains the ability to shoot lightning bolts from his hands.

Regenerative Skin: Regenerates health constantly. Internal injuries heal faster as well.

Revive: If slain, returns to life a week later.

Claw Fighter: Abner’s claw attacks improve considerably.

Spell Blocker: Abner is immune to one spell effect once per day.

There were many options available and I sorted through the ones that seemed most beneficial. Having seven choices meant I could turn Abner into a fighting machine…I just needed the right combination.

The first two were necessities: Mounted Warrior and Master’s Invulnerabilities. Being able to ride my dragon and confer the vast amount of resistance I had was paramount. After that, I turned to survivability. Rigid Armor, Regenerative Skin and Revive. Not particularly sexy but defense rarely was. Those were five choices, most of which seemed the most necessary. After that, I was free to choose from the more offensive abilities.

Claw Fighter and Dragon’s Might seemed attractive due to the sheer fact that I would be facing huge hordes of enemy soldiers. He was already gigantic – doubling his size would turn him into a veritable powerhouse. I could sit upon his back, slinging spells and throwing my returning spear.

The purple, discordant energy channeled from my hands to the dragon, enveloping him with new power. Immediately, he grew larger, muscles bulging and arms becoming more defined. His body developed rigid plates that were able to shrug off even the most powerful of siege weaponry. The lift of rebirth glinted in his eyes as he realized what I had given him.

“I do not understand,” the dragon said. “The power to revive is natural for a dragon, but it would take us centuries to learn such techniques. Why did you hand it to me so quickly?”

“Can’t have you dying on me,” I said. “And I’m not going to be raising you as an undead abomination. I figure this is the easiest way to protect my investment.”

“I’ll say…” Abner grinned at me and lowered his head all the way down to my feet, nuzzling against me. “You seem to have a concern for me by the defensive you have assigned. Do not try to hide it. You are soft on the inside, this I know. Come, let us fly and ready for battle!”

“Not yet, my friend,” I said, patting him on the head. “I’ve got one more purchase to make before I go.”

Chapter 78

Abner flew high in the air, giving me a perfect view of the land below. Hix’s vision enhancements had given me the power to see at great distances. Height and sight made for perfect scouting conditions. We were flying over the valley between Lepidonia City and the forest line.

Below, I could see tens of thousands of soldiers marching forward in battle formations. The frontline had already become bogged down – any part of the forest was impenetrable to enter, so they had picked the dead center to break into.

“I count a hundred thousand,” Abner said. “Where shall I drop it?”

“Right in the middle,” I ordered, thrusting my spear forward. The dragon flew downwards, towards the clump of soldiers. They all pointed and began to switch to their bows. The crossbowmen and archers in the back were already firing but the projectiles merely bounced off Abner’s reinforced skin.

He let loose a burst of fire from his mouth as he glided across the battlefield, releasing the payload in his claws at the same time. The huge Rolling Death began to shoot out spikes and flames as it rolled through hundreds of panicked men.

We flew across the group, breathing more flames on the enemy soldiers. They were caught out in the valley, in formation but unable to do a damn thing against us. Thousands were scorched before they broke into an all-out retreat, rushing back towards the city of Lepidonia.

“Shall we pursue?” Abner asked as he landed on the ground, splintering the last unit that had remained to fight at the front of the woods. Anyone who wasn’t inside the forest was dead or broken.

The dragon grabbed a captain who was charging him with a pike, lifted him high in the air and let out a puff of flame, cooking the man alive. He then chomped down, swallowing the man in two bites.

“No,” I said, watching as the enemy converged on one end of the walls. It would be an hour before the soldiers were able to regroup, but when they did, they would be ready to protect themselves from a dragon. We could risk getting close to the wall, but in doing so, I might subject Abner to heavy damage. There was no telling how many spellcasters were lining the walls.

I dismounted the dragon and leapt onto the ground, my spear transforming into my rapier. The sound of fighting inside of the woods was ubiquitous but Abner was far too big to fit into such an arena.

“Monitor the situation and alert me if they start to move against us,” I said, rushing into the woods, blade at the ready.

The world seemed to move in slow motion as I came up behind the ranks of the human soldiers. Most of them were fighting in heavy armor, packed together with shields up and poleaxes being used to ward off the werewolves. I darted into these squares of men and tore through them easily, my blade able to break through the strongest of armors.

My attack from behind caused the enemy to falsely declare a pincer. They broke into two formations, needlessly weakening their front. The werewolves and undead on the other side of the fighting pushed into the warriors, killing them quickly. As I ran from group to group, the tide of battle easily turned to our side.

This pattern followed until I reached the center of the forest, where one of our fortresses was under siege. A band of mighty men, adventurers who were wearing belts of giant’s size, were smashing through any undead who came their way and the werewolves were fleeing their presence.

I landed from the trees in front of the adventurers, my sword aimed at them. The six men, all in leather armor and wielding clubs, stepped forward and laughed. “You will not survive this battle, tiny man!”

“I have the power to disenchant your belts at a moment’s notice,” I said. “I say this because I see you are mercenaries. Switch sides now and you can keep your gear.”

“He’s Velking,” one of the adventurers suddenly realized. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Everyone except for one started to flee. The burliest of the adventurers, he walked up to me and peered down. “They say you’re a god,” he said. “But I just see a corpse in some fancy armor.”

“What would make you believe, son?” I asked wryly as I stepped back, raising my sword.

The large man swung first, thrashing the giant club towards me with incredible speed. I dodged to the left and slashed his right leg. He fell to the ground, blood spraying everywhere as the explosion of the tip annihilated his ability to walk.

“God damn,” the man gasped, holding his leg. “Fuck! Fuck!”

“You have to admit, you’re going to have one hell of a story,” I said before walking off to leave the man to tend to his injuries. There was no purpose in killing him. He was either incredibly stupid or incredibly egotistical. Either way, I had some admiration for the guts – enough to let him keep his insides.

The assault on the forest fell to pieces. My arrival with a dragon had fundamentally broken their line into the woods and their choice to pick only one front had weakened them significantly. These generals were not skilled fighters. Not in the least.

I returned to the outside of the valley, where Abner was standing guard. “What’s the update?” I asked.

“They’re preparing a flying division to attack us,” Abner said. “I can smell the griffons from here.”

“Are you feeling lucky today?” I asked, climbing on the back of the dragon. “Because I’m tempted to push that luck with an attack on the city. Just to see what will happen.”

“You’d think if they could respond to a dragon by now, they would have,” Abner replied. “Let’s give it a shot.”

His great wings flapped as we rose above the landscape once more. The city of Lepidonia was a stone’s throw away when you could fly and we sailed straight towards the capital.

Ballistae had been raised in advanced, placed on the end of each corner of the castle’s walls. As soon as we were within range, the great weapons fired bolts of flaming iron but the attacks did nothing other than bounce off Abner’s skin. The dragon’s scales were truly impenetrable.

Soldiers were fleeing into the city by the thousands, though they were choked at what looked to be a security checkpoint.

Flames filled the columns leading into the city, my dragon cheerfully breathing the fire that electrified and ignited at the same time. Thousands died in seconds.

We circled around the city, strafing and striking, burning and clawing anything that looked remotely threatening. People within the cities retreated to the stonework buildings, where flames could not affect them – though gravity could do the rest of the job. Abner was quick to pick up boulders and drop them from heights that annihilated garrisons and soldier structures. A single dragon, against an unsuspecting population, was quite powerful. Though I had no army deployed outside, the city was more or less mine to do with.

Chapter 79

A response finally came from the northwest – Ulmerton itself. A great silver dragon, rivaling my own dragon in size, came flying down from the heavens, breathing clouds of ice.

Abner was quick to respond by breathing clouds of flame, and before I could even register what was happening, the two were locked in mortal combat.

The silver dragon swung a claw at Abner, who deflected it with his own hand. The blue dragon rolled in midair and stabbed back in a counter, though this did nothing to harm the silver’s armor. They cut and clawed while I held on, bucking and swinging as the two monsters fiercely engaged in combat.

Finally, we broke off and circled in the air.

“He’s too strong,” Abner gasped.

“Something the matter?” a familiar voice cried out. My flesh stood on end and immediately I growled. “Eris Lanyer…”

The nobleman was riding on the neck of the silver dragon, same as I. He wore magical silver armor that matched the dragon, the energies mingling together.

“Surprised to see me?” he asked.

I didn’t reply. I leapt from the top of my dragon towards the silver beast. It dropped backwards to dodge me but my Armor had the Fly spell still stored. I unleashed the magic and propelled forward, spear aimed straight at Eris.

The dragon snapped its head up at the last moment, my blade piercing its throat as it tried to protect its master. Blood sprayed everywhere as my spear ripped through draconic flesh.

“No! My dragon!” Eris cried. The great beast began to spiral out of control as it flew towards the ground, unable to do anything other than die. I had not been aiming to deal a fatal blow to the dragon – not in the least – but it had absorbed the attack meant for Eris.

The nobleman leapt from the body as it crashed into the earth, staggering a few feet forward. He drew his longsword and raised it up towards me. “Damn you! I just got that!”

“Is that all you have to say to the loss of your comrade?” I asked as I darted towards the man, fury completely unfurled.

Eris hesitated as he watched me sail towards him. He was weighing whether to flee or not. In the end, he stood his ground and slashed at my spear at the last moment, deflecting my blow. I landed on the ground and began to lay an assault forward. The man was still unable to keep himself together in a fight very long, despite his tricks and magical trinkets.

He blocked one, two and then fumbled the third, causing me to knock his weapon from his hand. “You think this the end of it?” Eris laughed as he fell onto his back. “This isn’t even the beginning, my friend.”

“Sire,” a voice said to me. It was a prayer. Hilda, clear and crisp. “He wishes to kill you.”

Too little too late. The man’s wishes weren’t going to do much now. I didn’t speak, I didn’t try to argue with him. He needed to die and that was that. I rushed forward to stab the man in the brain, to end this once and for all, but he shouted something at me, something so asinine that it made me stop.

“I wish to try this fight again!” he said.

“What?” I asked.

My words were muffled as something enveloped me. The magic was time-based, this I knew. Great gears in the universe began to move. Mechanical objects that governed space and time, location and hour, all started to roll backwards. I watched as the dragon I slew flew backwards from where it had died, blood retreating to its throat as my own spear moved away. In the blink of an eye, I was back on my dragon, watching the silver dragon come down from the clouds.

“The hell?” I gasped. “His wishes came true…that fucker has some kind of wish magic!”

That’s what my prophet had meant. No wonder Eris Lanyer was able to conjure up so many goods in quick succession – including a dragon that matched our own.

“Pull back,” I said to Abner, digging my heels into his neck. “We can’t fight this one. Trust me.”

The dragon obeyed my orders and retreated as the silver dragon flew towards us. And then it happened. I saw Eris, waving at me from the distance. And I changed my order. Without a single bit of control, I was compelled to see this through.

“Charge!” I growled. “Kill Eris Lanyer!”

This was foolishness but I was frozen. The dragon flew forward and this time, Eris was prepared. His own dragon took a defensive stance and waited for us to draw close before unleashing a burst of ice magic onto us. The stream struck true and Abner pushed against it, his body freezing greatly. I climbed atop the beast’s nose and readied as the silver dragon drew near.

“You’re wishing for these powers?” I demanded as I leapt off Abner, flying towards Eris. The enemy dragon flew up to avoid me, forcing me to activate my own Flight spell…except damn it! The expenditure had already been used. The time reverse hadn’t restored my own abilities!

Fortunately, Abner was quick to land beneath me, sailing forward. He flew parallel to the silver dragon, allowing me to get closer to Eris. I speared at the man but he dodged easily.

“I wish only for what I need to face you,” he replied.

“And that apparently means everything,” I growled, leaping from Abner onto the back of the silver dragon. I had killed it once, I would kill it again.

My claws sank into the rigid armor of the silver beast, but I was persistent, ripping through until flesh and blood started to appear. The dragon flailed, allowing Abner to take advantage, slamming his claws into the exposed throat of Eris’ mount.

We spiraled to the ground, smashing and sliding a few feet as the two dragons fought. I scuttered across the great silver monster, searching for Eris.

The nobleman had been thrown clear from the fall and was on the ground, twenty feet away. He was rubbing his head, in a daze.

I scuttered up to him. There would be no wishes. He wouldn’t even know I was here.

The man turned at the last moment to see my visage, his eyes growing wide. “Are you ready?” I hissed as I speared him in the head. The blade pressed through his skull and, in an instant, Eris Lanyer was dead. His life was finally mine! If only I had known what that meant.

Chapter 80

The world opened up from underneath me as I started to fall. The universe faded, my corpse vanished and there was a single cry. A voice, wailing away. A baby. It was me. It was a new baby boy, healthy and alive, screaming as evidence that he had come into the world with fight in him.

“His name is Eris,” a wise man said. “And he shall bring your house great wealth.”

I was Eris Lanyer? No, I was watching this moment…and a million others, all at once. Lectures and lessons on how to read, stories being told of kings invading one another – fistfights and silly romances…his entire humanity was open to me like a book.

“Shut the fuck up,” another man, Eris’ father, said. “The wise man is speaking.”

“I’m just saying he looks weak already,” the mother replied. “I don’t think this one will make it.”

But I did make it. I grew quickly and healthily, strong and courageous. More than that, I grew meaner. Eris Lanyer was not a kind kid, he bullied others frequently, but was rewarded by his father for it.

“Meanness is the essence of strength,” the father had said. “You must, at all times, show that you are not soft. That means treating people as their station demands.”

I watched this lesson unfold that day. A man had stolen from Eris’ estate, a peasant who had taken some bread that wasn’t his. A sword had been placed in the twelve year old’s hands and he was told to sharpen the sword. This was a euphemism for killing a peasant.

How easily Eris did the killing. There was little innocence to lose. If the point of this moment was to show me that Eris was not a man worth murdering, if these vignettes were unfolding to give me a fair judgment of him, I saw now that he had no compunction in his heart. He slew a peasant the way a farmer kills a chicken.

“Men below nobility are no more men than fish are.” That had been the lesson Eris had learned from an early age. And he lived that well. There was no revulsion in his heart when it came to judging others. As he grew in authority and power, so his actions reflected a man who cared nothing for the peasantry. Crime was punished with murder, even theft of bread. He never once thought to ask why the people were stealing to begin with.

Indeed, Eris struggled with accepting his responsibilities. He saw the power of his noble station as a privilege to be used for only his own sake. He did not believe in the King’s decree that the noble should care for the peasant and often raised taxes just to improve his own stead.

The man grew worse once his father died, for with estate came power. He was a competent enough administrator, working his way up into the position of nobleman of Tague, but he was still never fair with the peasantry. He slew many of them, sometimes out of anger. And as he learned there were no punishments for such a decision, he acted with impunity towards the women in his life. Many were abused, their soft words of protest stifled by the threat that he could destroy them in a single word.

I watched Eris’ life unfold from his own eyes. I witnessed his feelings and his thoughts. I saw the opportunities laid out before him, the choices he could make. And I saw…I saw that he never once thought to change anything about himself or his world. He was happy because he could eat all he wanted and nothing would ever punish him. He was one of many like this. He was an unjust noble…and that is what I could see clear as day.

The man had no principles beyond his own self-interest. He treated all with disrespect and gave rewards to those who had the ability to bribe him back. He never uplifted those in poverty. He never even considered the people’s ability to eat – beyond the required grain necessary to keep them working.

By the end of it, I could see a familiar scene. A street sweep casually walking along, sweeping the floor, head full of empty thoughts. Not a care in the world, not a worry beyond getting his stomach filled…and then, he was dead. The nobleman swung the blade in the market stall, once, twice and then…

“So what’s the real cutting power?” he asked. “You know there’s a war coming up. I might take place in it…”

With that, he spun around and slashed Hector’s head clean off. The feelings within the man? Sheer delight. The blade was perfect for what it did. And that Hector fellow was never a good street sweep. Two problems solved in one beautiful stroke.

The world seemed to melt around me as I watched that last vignette unfold. Blue lights, celestial energies from above, flickered, illuminating the soul of a man. It was Eris.

“I didn’t expect to see you here again so soon,” Epheris said.

I turned around to see the Sorter God in his eagle form, gazing down at me with a thousand eyes.

“I…do not know what is happening, “I said. “Who am I?”

“You seem to ask that every time you pop back in here,” the god of the dead said.

“I’m dead! Epheris have mercy!” Eris’ spirit shouted as he dropped to his knees. “I serve the Lodan faith, they will vouch for me! I donated great works of art and…” his words grew silent though his mouth continued to move.

“You slew your double!” Epheris realized. “That was quick!”

“He tried to play the same game as I,” I said, realizing what had happened. I was Velking once more. “And lost in the second round.”

“Then you must learn that you weigh on his soul deepest of all,” Epheris explained. The world around us shifted into that of a courtroom. The great eagle became a humanoid judge, though blue and with a great white wig upon his head.

Eris was standing in the center of the court, his arms and legs bound to the ground, stretching him out.

“Eris Lanyer, you have committed the heinous sin of murder against this man,” Epheris said. “Your crime was so great that it brought forth a monster from the spirit world. So great was your sin that it has brought about titanic change in both the political and celestial spheres. You have destroyed churches, annihilated armies and displaced millions as a result of your action.”

“My action!” Eris shouted. “He is the one who did it all!”

“And he exists because of you,” Epheris replied. “Because you committed an action most unnatural.”

The man’s head hung low. “I have seen the acts with my own eyes…I cannot deny it any longer. I remember slaying you Hector.”

“I am Hector no longer,” I replied. “But a hybrid of many identities.”

“As the Sorter god,” Epheris interjected, “it is my job to handle both the living and the dead. Eris, your soul is weighed heavily by the murder you have done. The lives slain in pursuit of revenge have been many and as such, you are damned by every lost soul. Every ounce of suffering you have given unto others, you have earned triple.”

I wanted to grin at this but Epheris looked at me. “However. There is a problem. You were judged before death. Judged by your actions made manifest by twisted and accursed magics. Hector embraced a great evil in order to stay alive and though you have brought that evil into this world, it is the man Hector who continually makes the choice to do harm. And one such choice was to deliberately take everything from you.”

The great god sighed at that. “And so it would seem that you’ve been judged before I could. After all, this revenant has made you suffer in ways you had never known before. You were starving, you were homeless, you lived in alleys and on beds of strangers who terrified you. Humiliation is your name and even your family has rejected you.

“These have formed great bonds, dark grooves into your soul that tie you to the Revenant. And when he slew you, you wished on your last breath to slay him as well. To make him suffer as you have suffered…such a dying thought can bring you back.”

Epheris tapped on the great podium he sat at. “Velking, your behavior has been cruel in many ways. You take what is not yours, you slay people who oppose you and you manipulate all in your path. You are not a good creation. And because you slew Eris, you should, by all rights, have the ability to become alive once more. However…” he trailed off and shook his head. “However, I am growing concerned that you are becoming unchecked in your power and ego.”

The great undertaker looked at Eris’ soul. “Would you like to return as a revenant? To destroy Velking?”

Chapter 81

The question hung in the air, causing Eris to laugh. “What? What are you saying?” he asked, shaking his head.

“He gave his entire being to revenge, he gave himself utterly to depravity to slay you, shedding flesh and diving into darkness – Velking is not a good creature,” Epheris explained. “And while he is very valuable to me on a personal level, I am a judge. My job is to arbitrate. Such evil has tied your soul and damaged you in many ways. You can heal in the afterlife, certainly, but these scars are roadways back out. The very thing that created Velking can create you.”

“Why would you offer me something so wretched?” Eris asked.

“Because you made a vow in your heart on the way out,” the Sorter God said. “And that vow gleams now. It burns with tireless energy, prompting your spirit to return. You will not be a Revenant but an Archon. An instrument of my judgment. This is undeath, yes, but it will give you everything you crave. The power to finally fight back.”

I snarled. “Go to your peace, Eris. The hottest hell will be kinder to you than me if you dare return from the dead.”

Eris laughed at that. He snickered sickly. I could see the cruel and mean side in him flaring up. It was a side I knew all too well. The man was absolutely going to take the offer. Not because he wanted revenge but because there was power in becoming an Archon. He did not realize that the loss of humanity would be far worse than any other fate.

“The Revenant fears me! You know, if you had killed me the second time, I wouldn’t have even entertained the thought but…well, you wanted to play games, didn’t you?” Eris asked. “I must admit…I was a fool to rely on magic wishes to strengthen me. Magical empowerment never seems to work…it’s no replacement for skill and ability. Something I just never had. Something my body could never produce. But an Archon’s body? I would be more than pleased to shed my flesh for something so powerful.”

“Did you not think your actions would be in a void?” Epheris asked. “But, you are not here simply to gloat. As the being that weighs the most on the man’s soul, you have the right to speak to his fate. How do you think he should be punished?”

“I think he should be sent on to live out whatever mechanisms the afterlife provides,” I said. “Allowing him to return will only bring more pain to the world.”

“Why? Because he will harm you?” Epheris asked. “That’s hardly a reason not to grant him his heart’s wish. Let’s face it, you have been trying to get justice against a man who simply could not defend himself adequately. This second time around, it will be far more serious.”

“Are you punishing me?” I asked.

“If it were my power to punish you, I would,” the god replied. “Eris, what is your answer?”

The nobleman paused. “If I would have the power to harm this revenant, so be it. I will return and begin the cycle anew.”

“Then your spirit shall be melted down and refurbished into a great iron archon, one capable of performing tasks on my behalf,” Epheris said. “The pain shall be excruciating, as it will burn away the sins of your soul but in the end, you will be made alive once more.”

A vast angel of clockwork and iron appeared behind Eris, seizing hold of him. “Did you really think it would end at death?” the man taunted as he was pulled into the shadows. His voice echoed around me for a time.

The world melted around me, bringing us back to the eternal blue realm.

“Undeath is still punishment,” I said, letting out a sigh. For the first time, I felt…tired. Weary. As if I could let all of this go. “He is dead…and has been judged. What more is there for me?”

Something began to loosen within my body. The presence of the silvershade, the curse of undeath, it was lifting!

“I’m alive again?” I asked, looking at my hand.

“No, you are a spirit now,” Epheris said. “Killing your double gives you your spirit back completely. You cannot return to the world without entering your cursed body. However, you are now free to move on to the afterlife, if you wish. All your divinity will be dispersed and I will handle the rest.”

“And if I don’t wish?”

“Then you must return to life how you always do,” Epheris said. “You must tunnel out into unlife once more. You will be stronger. Greater.”

“But…”

“But you will still be a revenant. The curse of undeath will still affect you. Worse actually, since you will be beyond your purpose. Without The Hunger to drive you, to push you into madness…you will experience a decay worse than before. You will need to find greater secrets of liches if you want to stay in control past a few hundred years,” Epheris said.

“Unless I can ascend in that time.”

Epheris laughed at that. “You truly think you can ascend to godhood? I do not know what gave you that idea, but you must realize you are a tiny little speck in the universe. There are many powers that will crush you before you make it into divinity.”

“So you think I will fail?”

The deity nodded. “Oh yes. We did not wish to comment before but now it is becoming clear from the way you conduct yourself so openly. All it is going to take is one good crusade and your nation will be cleansed.”

“I have many nations that are interested in befriending me,” I said.

“Churches are not nations, they can field their own armies. And most have the influence to control what happens,” Epheris replied. “You will find that the higher you rise, the faster you will fall.”

“I suppose I will have to see what will happen,” I said. “Tell me, will I still be bound to pointlessly hunt after Eris?”

“That phase is gone now. You are a Purposeless Revenant now, one without reason for being.”

I found myself grinning. “Then I am satisfied. For now. Eris may think he will be able to get revenge on me, but I will ascend before that. He will cower once more – even if his flesh is pure metal.”

Chapter 82

I burrowed out of a field, my body returning to the material world. I had no memory of how I got here, but I quickly checked my character sheet. Everything was still where it was supposed to be. I had not lost anything!

Laughing to myself, I climbed out of the hole and looked around. I was in a forest somewhere, far from civilization.

I trudged through the woods to find a pair of corpses, lying next to each other. One was Eris’ and the other was my previous body. The armor was still on it and so I quickly dressed myself, watching as the body turned to dust as I touched it.

Damn, Eris had been wearing that crown when I killed him but it was gone now. How long had I been gone? The body was still warm, so it couldn’t have been that long.

As I collected my gear, I found my dragon egg. Whispering to it, I heard a great voice ahead.

“He lives!” Abner said as he landed beside me. “I thought you were gone for good.”

“I have a tendency to return to life,” I replied, climbing up on the creature’s back. “Let’s see what’s going on.”

“The moment Eris died, everyone started moving home,” Abner said as he lifted me high above the earth. We flew above Lepidonia. The city was in ruins but had been abandoned entirely. White flags rose high from the bands of soldiers who were already halfway back into their country. No one wanted to fight an undead army to keep the city.

We flew back to Orlind, receiving a hero’s welcome. Word had spread rapidly that Eris had died. The crown had declared to all that the wearer had been unworthy before vanishing back to Ulmerton, causing a crisis of leadership in the country. Anyone who found the crown was to be appointed king and so a great deal of people was rushing back in the hopes of being the lucky finder.

Abner was pleased with the attention from the cult and was happy to find himself a place inside the pyramid to rest and enjoy the food brought to him on an hourly basis. I was quick to thank a few Viziers and prophets before excusing myself from the festivities.

Anna followed me into my resting chambers, where a portal connected to the Great Temple. “Sir, are you okay?”

“I’m…finding myself somewhat frustrated,” I confessed to the woman. “Eris Lanyer died so quickly…and he will return some day. With greater power. All because of the things I have done in this world.”

“Sir?” she asked, looking at me with confusion.

“I have spread evil with my actions. I have created deep ties to Eris’ soul and in the process, empowered him with the same thing that fuels me. He will be back and perhaps even worse than before. I will be facing an Archon. It will never be an uneven fight again,” I said. I slashed the wall with my claws, cutting through the stone with ease. “I was savoring this all…why did I have to accelerate it? Why did I push so hard?”

“Eris was pushing equally as hard,” Anna said. “There was no way for you to handle this other than to end him.”

“But he’ll be back,” I said. “So I didn’t really end him. I just gave him powers…damn it all.”

The lack of Hunger felt strange. The world was topsy- turvy to me. Nothing made sense.

“My lord, you have been too worked up about something so small for so long,” Anna said, sitting on the bed where I often pretended to sleep. “The fact is, Eris Lanyer was a nobody. And he died a pretender. They found a Wisherman’s Ring on his body. Everything he gained would only last for a year at most.”

“Yes, I knew he was using wishes…how do they work?”

“They temporarily change the world in a way as to make the wisher’s life better,” Anna explained. “But they have a ‘snapback’ potential. One can never really make a wish that is beneficial to themselves. The gods of irony just won’t have it. As such, rings of wishes are rare and those who use them are often…well, people who aren’t patient enough to get real power.”

“Amazing that a man can have magic that grants him wishes and he still fails to achieve his goals,” I mused.

“Exactly. Sir, you are a god. You are moving to ascend into something truly greater. Do you want to spend any more time on Eris Lanyer?” Anna asked. “For Lepidonia remains uncaptured. We have the forces. We have the power. Now we just need the orders. Finalize the kingdom, finish Kanton and then? Then you can ascend!”

She made a good point. Eris had always been a punchline, a joke to me. He had briefly managed to threaten me and even that had been on borrowed power.

“Call the order out,” I said. “We’re taking everything, including the Marshes. Ulmerton will have to formally surrender if they want us to stop. Send out the word, money to any mercenary willing to assemble in Lepidonia.”

This surprised and elated Anna. But she had been right. Eris was defeated, it was time for me to move on. And a god needed as much land as possible in order to elevate their power. Perhaps reconquering Lepidonia would finally give me more soulsparks…

Chapter 83

Word spread that Ulmerton was still at war, even though they had retreated. I was quickly entreated to meet with the Land Barons, a messenger literally getting on his knees to beg me to show mercy.

The diplomatic situation of the country was in great trouble. The crown had a failsafe built into it that if the person wearing it was slain and none took it upon their head within a few minutes, it would announce the failure of transfer to all citizens within Ulmerton before teleporting to a random spot.

This meant that the Land Barons weren’t technically in charge anymore. They had no king to unify them, no one to wield the cudgel to control anyone who was falling out of line. Worse, there was no one to stop one Baron from invading another. There were plenty of people who would benefit from expansion if they just conquered their neighbors. But everyone’s armies had been deployed, leading the nobility to hope everyone stayed calm until a new king was found.

It was a shame I lost my body, for I could have taken the crown and declared myself king. Or were only the living allowed? That would be quite the loophole, for an eternal corpse to run the show.

I agreed to meet with eight of the fourteen Land Barons, all who were still allied with each other on paper. I graciously invited them to come to my new palace in Lepidonia and they were quick to show up, one after another.

Every Baron brought a full complement of soldiers with them, nothing that could fight their way out of the city but enough to show they were still in charge. They could order populations to be controlled. Something told me that these soldiers were probably handpicked for their loyalties.

We met in a banquet hall where a great spread of food was made for them. The nobles ate nervously, unsure if the rules of bread peace were possible with an undead creature – but they feared angering me more by not eating. I did not intend to poison them, instead I let them eat and drink to their fill.

Eventually, the Barons were brought into a private audience chamber, where I sat above them all. A great altar of mine had been built in this area and several Cultists were kneeling by the altar, offering praises perpetually to me.

“Friends,” I said to them as they gathered around the altar, staring up at me. The dimly lit room contained barely enough space for them all to fit and they glanced nervously at one another. “I thank you for coming to dine with me. After this long and pointless war, I’m glad to see that you are all beginning to look at me with respect.”

I grinned, taking off my helmet to reveal my undead body. They all gasped at the sight. “You perhaps have heard rumors that I am dead. I assure you, I am far more alive than any one of you. For I am Velking Demoneyed, the Unliving God. You have seen the extent of my power unleashed upon your pathetic armies, you have watched as I have conquered these lands…now, now you scramble to gain peace so you can protect your own borders.”

I stood tall. “Protect them from whom? Each other! For your nation rules itself with an asinine crown that dictates your actions with a club instead of a carrot. You all know that when you return home, you will be set against one another, fighting tooth and nail to protect your land. Without the king, you are nothing more than warlords.”

All eyes glanced around the room with nervousness. The barons all knew this was true. “And so I ask you, is this how you should run your nation? Should you truly look to a crown for orders, to control you? It seems to me that you’d be better off with an undead monster ruling over you. And that is what I am considering. The only trouble is that your nation has so many contracts. So many defense treaties…”

I grinned as I sat back down. “Barons, your lands are forfeit as of now. Either the king of Ulmerton will take them or I will,” I said. “But, fear not. For I may give you what you have and more…if I like you. But my question is, who will kneel before me? Who will bow to me as their godking?”

“Surely, you are a madman if you think we will bow to you!” Baron Francis Glickt said as he wagged a finger at me. “You command a strong army but you are not capable of a forward action against our territory.”

“If one of you bows, I have a base to place my troops,” I said. “And that means your territory is defended.”

One woman immediately knelt. “My god,” she said, laying prostrate before me. “I am Baroness Zelda. Please, accept me into your kingdom.”

“Zelda, get up, you’re embarrassing yourself!” Francis shouted.

Another man knelt. “Of course,” he said, laughing to himself. I could see him run the numbers in his head. He was far better off on my side, even if he took a loss of land. “I accept you as my lord!”

Four of them bowed, the rest did not.

Francis stood defiant, raising a fist towards me. “You will never be able to defeat the King’s forces! There are many powers in place meant to stop opportunists when the crown is lost. They will come in and annihilate you.”

I laughed at that. “I will just kill the man who wears the crown and take it for my own. Then you will be bowing before me, one way or another.”

Epilogue

Lepidonia generated considerably more worship. The city had something ancient about it and when the rites of the Cult began within the buildings, I began to feel myself ascend greater and greater. The ceiling wasn’t breaking, however. Something was still holding me back.

But this was fine. I had mortal concerns to deal with. In the end, negotiations with Ulmerton had ended in a victory on my end – six barons joined me and three agreed to peace. This left only a few slivers of the nation that could be conquered.

The King of Renzetto was quick to move in once it was clear I wasn’t going to sue for peace. I received him well enough, for he had already been agreeable with me in the past. He had many interests within Ulmerton and while he agreed that their actions against me were despicable, I had already taken my pound of flesh. The barons on my side would provide me with tribute and fealty, that alone was a major victory.

I agreed to the King’s terms of peace, knowing full well that he was on my side the entire time. The nation of Kanton signed a treaty, the first of its kind, with a signature from the undying god himself. Peace would reign between Ulmerton, Renzetto and Kanton for a hundred years.

With peace agreed and enforced by the King’s great power, Kanton began to experience, for the first time, economic bliss. Getting in bed with the Market had provided us with all of the resources and talent we needed to build an effective economic network and pretty soon, food and drugs were flowing through all roads in Kanton.

The casino opened up, bringing in many people to Orlind. The wealth of our coffers grew and in the process, I was able to begin preparing for the next phase in the operation.

“Do you see it?” I asked Anna as she followed me through the empty valley of Lepidonia. Above, the sky was slowly turning black.

“No, what?” she asked.

“The green in the sky,” I said, taking out the Astrolabe. “It’s finally here. I didn’t think it would come but…it’s here.”

“What is?” Anna asked as she peered up, squinting at the night’s sky. “It’s just night time, same as any.”

“Is it?” I asked, opening the silver lid that covered the round tablet of divine stone. Immediately, it began to flash with green light, forming star networks.

“It’s the Black Night’s Sun!” I said. “The celestial event that makes this place so damned cursed. I was worried it wouldn’t happen but…it’s here.”

A great green sun began to descend from the heavens, burning brightly as the entire sky turned ghastly. Wails of banshees echoed throughout the land and spirits began to float upwards, responding to the strange celestial event.

The Astrolabe in my hand shot a beam into the sky, connecting a bridge to thousands of other realms. “The worlds are conjoined,” I said. “We can now enter the realms of the gods above…or the Eight Below.”

“Shall I prepare our armies, sir?”

“Not yet,” I said. “I don’t know who these things are, but there’s only one way to scout ahead…”