[Chapter 4.5: A Matter Of Perspective]
A loud crash echoed through the spire and the two beastmen guards immediately walked in through the smaller side door to see what had happened. Laying there were five majestic dragons, each having scales of a distinct and beautiful colour. One of them, the one known as the Blue Sky Dragon Lord, seemed to have collapsed on the ground and was currently being poked with a claw by the Wyrm Dragon Lord.
Before the two guards could do anything, the Platinum Dragon Lord pointed to the door with his enormous tale and the two guards promptly left, preferring not to anger the strongest being they knew of. However that perception was soon going to change as word of a certain event at the Katze Plains spread and a new king entered the world's political stage.
After a few minutes the Blue Sky Dragon Lord awoke, only to begin hyperventilating until a clawed paw struck the back of his head. Tsar sighed once more, "They're all immune. Either innately or because of their items." He looked over his comrades, seeing that they were practically shaking, "You felt it too, right? Their items are worth more than my entire base. The Greed Kings were nothing compared to this…"
It didn't of course help that the moment the Wild Magic surveillance spell was activated, the entire group that connected to Pyke, excluding the mortals, turned to look at them, as if they saw the Dragon Lords as easily as the magic showed them. It was unsettling and, judging by the recent state of one of their colleagues, rather frightening.
"So what is the plan, Tsar? We can't even use Wild Magic, not like it could help, and we certainly can't fight against that. That spell alone would probably wipe our city from existence! You're the only one who can do anything!" said the Obsidian Dragon Lord. Indeed, as vast the power of a dragon was, it was hardly a match for the force that was just demonstrated by their adversary.
Tsar thought for a second, putting a claw to his jaw, "Hmm… I need to gather some old friends. One of them has something that could certainly help. Besides that, I need souls. A lot of souls. I think I know just the Dragon Lord for that as well… For now we just need to survive. If I gain back the souls I lost trying to glimpse at his city and I gather my associates, there may yet be a chance."
He nodded and flew away, getting out of the spire through the convenient hole in the wall that was made for their convenience. They did have humanoid forms, but they weren't fans of using them unless it was absolutely necessary. As he flew he thought of a few more individuals that could assist him.
Of course his fellow True Dragon Lords would be useful. Although he was the most powerful, the gap between him and a few others wasn't that large and a fight between them could go either way. However it wasn't Dragon Lords he was looking for. If 36 players, as Riku had once claimed, couldn't fight Pyke then no amount of Dragon Lords would do.
There were other beings in the world, ones ancient beyond compared, that dwarfed even his late father in power. His… colleague, the Brightness Dragon Lord, despite his weird taste in mates, did something useful for once and passed information about five of them to Tsar. Apparently they were associated with each other and the cooperation of one would guarantee that of the others.
When the Brightness Dragon Lord initially discovered them some one hundred years ago, they contacted him before he could move on. Supposedly they alluded to a great horror arriving soon, one that they had a past with. If Pyke wasn't that horror then Tsar was ready to impale himself on the Argland Spire because there was no way a creature more ludicrous than the ripper could exist.
However, power wasn't all that was needed. Those possessing power, particularly those who didn't have to earn it, such as dragons, often relied on brute strength. The pride of a dragon was a notable characteristic of the species in general, although it made itself particularly dominant in specific dragon species, such as fire and frost dragons, and Dragon Lords. This has led many an overconfident whelp to find their doom at the hand of adventurers and Tsar doubted that these mysterious, extremely powerful beings would be any different.
So there was only one place to turn. A human. And there was only one human Tsar would trust. Rigrit Bers Carau. She had experience fighting against the abominations of YGGDRASIL and was not powerful enough to let it blind her.
Still, this wasn't enough. Dire times were ahead and such times often called for dire measures. Perhaps there still existed one source of allies…
ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
Jircniv awoke in cold sweat once again. It was that same nightmare. The screaming. The yelling. The executioner's axe… Ten days had passed since the battle. Fluder was the only one to return and his report forced Jircniv to immediately send a public apology for the war and beg for peace. The peace was granted externally, but internally the situation was one step away from a public revolt.
The loss of seven legions was the equivalent of the empire losing both arms and a leg. Now there was barely anybody to keep the fragile peace. No one to defend the country besides Fluder and the measly adventurer's guild. The equipment was gone, a massive loss of resources. The bodies were gone so no proper burial could be conducted, a strike against the empire that caused its morale to bleed as if an artery was cut open.
Having 70000 people lose their lives wasn't the problem. The empire had a population of several million, these casualties weren't something that would impact harvests. The problem was that these weren't levies taken from the farm and put on the front lines. Resources, time, effort. These were all things that were worth their weight in gold and made the imperial legions what they are… or rather were.
The military pride of the empire, the glorious reputation of Jircniv, the positive outlook of the citizens. All of these were shattered and scattered to the winds. There was no glorious future awaiting them now and especially not Jircniv. Some maid or other servant must have spread the word as within the day of Fluder's return all of the nobility already knew of the massacre. The next day? The entire city knew. Soon enough the whole country would be aware.
Jircniv's position was achieved through the legions. It was their support that got him on the throne. It was their support that let him execute his coup d'état. It was Carvain's support that helped him become the Bloody Emperor and purge the useless nobles. Without it there was no Bloody Emperor Jircniv and with it now gone, his entire life could come crumbling down.
The whispers in the back of his mind already told him of the various conspiracies the fallen nobles were creating. It would be all too easy to rile up the masses. After all, the best way to increase a leader's reputation is to have them win a war. The same is true however the other way around; nothing destroys one's support quite like a lost war.
"Why did I even go to war!? I knew that bitch would hire them! Hell! I wanted her to hire them so I could kill them! I saw what that one did to the Martial Lord! Why the hell did I think this was a good idea?!" He clutched at his chest where his amulet usually rested, only to find that it was not there once more.
It all clicked into place and became clear, "Magic!" he yelled. "I didn't have my amulet when talking to those representatives. But… I never lose it. The only one who knew where it was… was… Fluder!" Jircniv stood up only to have his legs buckle from the realisation and fall back on the bed.
He fought back the tears that threatened to form in his eyes. His own mentor, one he trusted above everyone else. The last trump card of the Empire… In hindsight, his betrayal was obvious. There was nothing in this world that Fluder sought more than to look into the abyss of magic and who better to provide that than someone who could massacre seven legions with one spell?
Jircniv chuckled weakly. He had been outmanoeuvred on every plane. His mentor and the strongest person in the Empire had betrayed him, his army was gone, his support was steadily eroding. The only thing left was to wait for the executioner's blade to lop off his head at the behest of some noble he once purged for incompetence.
However, maybe there was hope yet? Jircniv decided on a course of action. It was a piece of ancient wisdom passed down the imperial line for generations, 'If you can't beat them, join them.' It was time to write a letter, one that could save his life or doom him entirely…
ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
The news of the battle should have been unnerving. It should have shook Calca to the core! She was as close to a saint as one could get. Pure. Innocent. Hopeful. She was all these things and more. Indeed, the news of the massacre was troubling and caused her several night terrors. However… there was an odd comfort in the battle report as well.
Pyke was the one who said he'd help her when the time came. Just how trustworthy his word was yet to be seen, though just the thought of having such power backing her was a comforting one. That power may have been unholy and blasphemous, but would the way of being saved matter to the citizens when the time came? For all they cared, as long as they were rescued then the person that rescued them was their saviour. She could even imagine an undead becoming loved by her people, if the hated being also had the charisma for it. Perhaps a spokesperson could work as well, but who would want to speak for an undead in the first place?
It was pitch black outside and seemed that peaceful sleep was not something she was destined for at the moment. She shook her head and cleared the ridiculous thought from her mind. There were other matters that required the little brain power she could spare at a late hour such as this. Her court, for instance, was one of these matters. As expected, they were both afraid and intrigued by the new kingdom, one led by a monster as powerful as Pyke.
The proposed courses of action were divided into two camps. First and foremost, attempting to maintain positive, or at least neutral, relations with the new nation. E-Rantel, despite how underutilised it was by Re-Estize, was centred in an extremely advantageous location and with a new administration it could quickly grow into the trade capital of the region, if not the entire continent. Unsurprisingly, this included her two reasonable deputies, Kelart and Gustav.
On the other hand were those who were more pious, which of course included Remedios. However, to listen to the side of politics with which Remedios sided was ill-advised in most cases, particularly when Kelart didn't agree with her sister. This side wanted to create a secret alliance, most notably with the Theocracy, and try to crush the threat. One could call both their competence and ability to do as they said in question, but their cause was already one Calca was opposed to, for obvious reasons.
However there remained an individual that was by far the most problematic. That individual being Lakyus. She had become something of an honorary guest in the court. Her experience in court, while minor by most standards, was still there and her expertise with fighting monsters made her an interesting addition to topics concerning the Abelion Hills.
Needless to say, she didn't take the news of Pyke's victory very well. Thankfully, Gagaran and Remedios managed to subdue her before she could do something completely out of sorts. Her calls for actions were now closer to a madwoman's wailing than a coherent proposal. Even now she was most likely going around the churches of Hoburns and giving speeches about how they needed to go to war.
She was becoming a problematic element, one for which Calca had no solution. The main reason she was still on the throne was due to the support of the people. If Lakyus made them want to go to war when that was the last thing Calca wanted… It could quickly become a major issue. The option of exiling her from the country did exist, but that would only sully the Holy Queen's pristine reputation. What kind of monarch would treat a hero like that?!
Thankfully, the solution seemed to find Calca, rather than the other way around. The day after the meeting Gagaran told the Queen that she and Lakyus would soon move somewhere else and that they were grateful for her hospitality. She didn't mention a location, but it was blatantly obvious. There was only one place that would accept Lakyus now and that was the Slane Theocracy. Undoubtedly, given both her hero and priestess status, Lakyus would fit right in.
She thought over various matters of policy for a while until the Queen fell asleep once more. Yet the rest was brief and the sun soon peeked through her curtains and its rays fell directly on her eyes. Following a quick bath and makeup routine, she was finally ready to write the letter that could very well be her political suicide note.
"I, the Holy Queen Calca Bessarez of the Roble Holy Kingdom, hereby recognize the Vadash Kingdom as a sovereign nation and its king, the Abyssal King Pyke, as its rightful ruler. " It was a short declaration, displaying neither heavy support nor disdain for the party in question, but it still was an opportunity for any quick-witted noble to exploit. Given some time, resources and, most importantly, charisma, the people could very easily turn against their beloved queen.
For now however, there remained another letter to write, one not meant for the general public.
"Honourable Abyssal King,
I would like to sincerely congratulate you on achieving a position befitting one such as your august self. From the bottom of my heart I wish the best for your nation and for yourself, so that you both may experience naught, but prosperity.
In an effort to assist with the aforementioned prosperity, I ask if you would be open to establishing trade relations between our countries? Undoubtedly it will help subjects of both our countries thrive…"
The letter, as expected of a monarch trained to write them, contained very little substance and a lot of flattery. Pyke didn't seem like one who's ego would lead him to make specific decisions, but it never hurt to try and appeal to it a little bit. It was written and adorned with the royal seal in less than half an hour, most of that time being the ink drying, yet a question still lingered in Calca's mind.
'Who do I send with this?' Pyke seemed to be a man of martial tradition, but still expected some sort of proper conduct. She shuddered as she remembered her encounter and how he berated her for using a message scroll rather than a proper messenger.
So it had to be a messenger, one who could conduct themselves in a royal palace and had some sort of military background, or even foreground if the previous condition was met. Her mind cycled through different options, Remedios? By everything holy, unholy and in-between, no. Just no. Never.
Gustav? He was a decent paladin and he had the manners for it, but having only Kelart around to guide Remedios would be rather troubling. Additionally, sending someone of his stature could be seen as a submissive manoeuvre.
The person couldn't have too high of a rank, but still be decently impressive. Perhaps some family connections to a marshal line would work as well. 'Maybe Remedios has someone in her paladin corps? There must be at least one squire good enough to go...'
ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
Draudillion, befitting her childish appearance, was skipping throughout her royal suite. Firstly, she gave up the knowledge on the Dragon Lords and Wild Magic… and was still alive! Neither her father nor some other Dragon Lord appeared and no one tried to scorch her palace with their fire breath! More importantly, that information got her the support of what by now she believed to be the strongest being on the continent and probably in the world.
What did she care about 70000 imperial legionaries? Those same legionaries were never sent out to help her! The Bloody Emperor never even tried to send any meaningful assistance. It seems that karmic forces were at play and her revenge on the emperor was granted, albeit via a third party.
With the recent massacre came the second reason she was so elated; her benefactor now had a kingdom. It had only been only ten days or so, but already outlandish tales were sprouting from the seeds sown by the mouths of the merchants brave enough to try their luck in E-Rantel. Undead patrolled the streets and when not completely ignoring the living, they instead tried to help them. One merchant even said that he saw a child being grabbed out of the way of a speeding cart by an elder lich!
Angels had apparently taken over the job of healers and the temples of the Six were going out of business. How could a priest ever compete with an angel in both healing abilities and knowledge of the scripture? Well, as it turned out, they couldn't and were quickly losing customers. Angels, as it seemed, had no need for material goods and Pyke didn't order them to charge for healing. Of course, it came without saying that their healing capabilities were on another level and even major and old wounds could be healed instantly. Perhaps it was a ploy to get more able bodied workers, but even if it was, Draudillion couldn't deny both the scheme's attractiveness and effectiveness.
The bureaucracy was mostly taken over by demons, who managed state affairs, tax collection, various reports and so on. Given that most people already considered government officials to be demons, this wasn't a change that unnerved the people quite as much as the undead. The demons rarely interacted with citizens, but seemed to be as silver tongued as the legends said when they did. Their efficiency seemed to also be legendary and the administration was running smoothly, with outlandish ideas such universal education being firmly in the works.
If her ally could accomplish all this in such a short time, she firmly believed that either the ruler himself or one of his aides would soon do what they promised. This political affair, while already settled behind closed doors, required official communication. Her letters were simple enough, a congratulations to Pyke, recognition of his country and a request for help with the Beastmen, the reward being whatever they wanted.
At this point she hoped to become a vassal. After her letters were sent out and the nobles learned of them, she was sure that a coup was imminent. Even if the beastmen were to be wiped out, her reputation was gone and there was no chance in hell that she would be able to deal with the nobles. Of course, her final judgement on the matter was yet to be made, but her messenger who was sent out with the letters returned safely and spoke well of both his reception and the things he saw in the city, even if the undead were highly unnerving at first.
However, unlike the meek Re-Estize citizens, the Draconic Kingdom's residents had plenty of experience with monsters over the past few years and she hoped that, in the event of being vassalized, it would be a much more smooth transition here. The benefits were obvious. Tireless skeletons working the farms, legendary guards that didn't need to sleep; this was every nation's dream!
There existed the possibility that they would ask for something else, such as her hand in marriage and that could be… awkward. Then again, those two aides of his were very attractive so maybe she wouldn't mind one of them? She shook her head, now wasn't the time for such thoughts! Her court was furious and she still needed to buy more time for her saviour to arrive…
ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
Renner was in her room, flipping through a rather odd magazine. In the little booklet were various heteromorphic races that had no lifespan. She, naturally, wanted to keep her beauty intact and so Lillith gave her this convenient list of races that she could choose.
It was a reward for a job well done. The hand off of the city was brief as the paperwork was prepared in advance and Pyke promptly sent her back to Re-Estize. Her promised reward of immortality for both herself and Climb was to be given later, but there were a variety of races to choose from and so here she was.
There were the basic races, such as various demons and angels, but perhaps there would be something more exotic here that would catch her eye? A vampire was an interesting choice. Her golden hair, like with most demonic options, would turn dark, but that could go very nicely with red eyes.
A gorgon could be interesting. Her hair could be turned deadly on command and her eyes would quite literally become enchanting. The problem here would be having climb become the same race. It seemed that gorgons were only female and who knew about their biological compatibility with other races!?
An eidolon maybe? Being a ghost would be pretty interesting… Despite her cold and calculating nature, imagining things such as flying as a ghost and walking through walls wasn't beyond her. However that option quickly became unappealing that once again the option of reproduction was gone!
Suddenly someone knocked on the door to her room and opened it a few seconds later. She quickly hid the booklet under her pillow and assumed a posture indicative of one deep in thought. Who it was that entered was easy to discern as only one person could enter without the queen's explicit permission; it was her puppy.
Climb bowed deeply and before he could do his whole formal introduction that she found oh so cute, she interrupted him with a pressing question, "Climb, if you could become any other race, which race would you choose?"
The boy was surprised by the question, but thought about it for a second. The words of Evileye crossed his mind, 'Don't sell your soul for power and do something stupid like becoming undead.' However… This was just a hypothetical, right? Just in case he answered with a race that surely wouldn't corrupt his soul, "An angel?"
Renner smiled, "Me too!"
(AN: Jircniv's hairline is receding, the Dragon Lords are in disarray, Calca is stressed out and Draudillion sees a ray of hope on the horizon. What crazy shenanigans will happen next time? Stay tuned to find out! As always, more to come and I hope you've enjoyed the story so far!)