Chapter 5: Two to Land, One at Sea
The moment Neia walked out of the Gate, her mouth hung slightly agape at what met her eyes. Vast, towering citadels of brass, gold and silver, the architecture bizarre, alien and wholly beautiful to the eye, reminding her only vaguely of mushrooms, save these were constructed out of metal and were tipped to a point, the top of it holding one longer, thin spike or ornament. Carpets flew from one top to another, alongside steeds of winged beasts of all feathers, and angels were seen in the distance, their armor glinting in the sun. They were not even in the city proper yet, just one of its many docks, their vast vessels waiting anchored nearby where the party emerged.
As her eyes wandered the environs, her gaze eventually met her father's. The blonde bowman, while undoubtedly had eyes like her own, Neia was at least thankful she did get his 'tree branch' nose, that stuck out both literally and figuratively from his face. He gave a small smile, turning slightly towards her. "You've grown some?" Running a hand down his short, carefully slicked black hair.
"A bit." She did not repay the smile along with the answer, feeling a bit uncomfortable having her father and her own duties being so thoroughly mixed together. "It's mostly physical training."
"O-oh." Dark eyes darted downwards, "Sorry, I'm happy to see you again and I uh well um…" Pavel looked from side to side, trying to find words to his feelings. "Your mother is well?"
The scowl shared between the two deepened on the daughter, hoping that he would be able to verbally convey what she also felt but recognized the pivot in conversation clearly. "Yes."
"Good." Pavel nodded. "New sword? Was it given to you by one of the older paladins?" Gesturing to the steel longsword at her hip, the golden guard worn, notched but did not seem to be faulty.
"Papa." Neia sighed, "It's alright, we're not in the best place to start talking." Forcing a smile and nodding towards queen Calca. "We have a job to do and will find time for it later."
Pavel's heavy eyes softened greatly, relieved from her words, "Good, good." Placing a hand over the longbow at his back, its once silvery material having been purposely dirtied and darkened to minimize detection at night but did have a faint, magical shimmer that crawled its surface along with the man's digits. "If anything comes to worst, I…"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Neia nodded as she strode next to one of Nine Colours, "Where do you need a squire of the Holy Kingdom's Paladins?" Hand resting on her sword guard, standing a bit straighter as their Queen seemed to finish her conversation with the Istannice Minister, several soldiers, humans with swarthy skin, dark hair, long spears and massive shields coming in two culumns, flanking an elf between them. The man had silver adorning every vestige of his visage, and gems bejeweled his thick, elaborate orange silks, and while the warriors at his side were indeed impressive, something about how the elf stride towards them radiated an… unbeknownst power.
The newcomer did not do the courtesy of bowing towards Calca, both Neja and Pavel noticed as they exchanged greetings, but were uncertain why such courtesy was ignored to such a lofty guest as their queen. As they exchanged further words, Calca looked on her father and saw his eyes dart between the two attentively. "You can hear them?"
"No." Pavel denied quickly, "but I can read lips decently enough."
"What are they saying?"
After a pause, "That they're glad to meet, other typical greetings, she's amazed at the city and can't wait to see the rest and the elf says he's worried about the terrifying looking archer staring at hi-" Only then did Pavel stop and quickly look away, bashfully. The elf could not have even been able to see him out of his periphery, and now the Holy Queen stared back abashed at the archer, where Neia kept her composure only modestly as she lightly smiled at her father's embarrassment.
The glittering elf approached with his broad, smug grin and gestured to the archer, "I know of you, 'Mad-Eyed Archer' and I apologize for putting you on the spot. May I know your name?"
"Pavel Baraja." He replied quickly, trying to ascertain if maybe there was a spotter nearby that sent the elf a Message spell of what the city's guests were doing. However, as the minster's gaze dropped down to his daughter, on pure, unadulterated instinct, placed a hand on Neia shoulder and walked towards the elf, protectively put himself between them. "My daughter, Neia."
"I am Melkoth, Minister of Whispers. Welcome." The minster's silver charms jingled as he bowed his head, "As the greatest warrior in this entourage, you will be held responsibility for its activities. We ask that you do not stray over much, and if any deigns to challenge you to a duel, do not under any circumstances answer it."
'Duel?' Pavel pondered, 'Why would…' But as he looked to the side of the elf, the archer swore he spotted just off of Melkoth, a faint shimmer that was two heads taller then either of them, and as he locked closer with the shape, saw the curving crescents of a pair of horns at its top.
"You are guests here, if there are any uh invitations, please try to retreat to the quarters we will provide you and yours."
"The queen is to stay with us?" Pavel inquired. Distracted long enough that when he looked back, the shimmering shape was gone.
"Nay, we have arranged a room for her and a guard of her choice in the palace."
Pavel could sense the presence of Enrique the Blue not too far away, disguised as a common mariner that is acting as the party's mule. Hopefully, the man will be able to form a plan around all this, who to guard the queen and an escape measure if necessary. "I understand." Looking to his monarch, "My queen?"
Calca nodded and smiled back, "Please minster, we will follow you closely."
"Good. Ask me as many questions as you would like, if you see anything of note, we will stop and allow you to observe." The sand-elf waved a hand at one of the graeci warriors, and the rest fell into formation both quickly and with a degree of efficiency that seemed quite disturbing to those of the Holy Kingdom, some doubted they were even human from their formative perfection, being more like the Ushabti that had come to their own palace some time ago. The party followed the entourage, which instead of meeting smaller streets, and tiny alleys, stinking and filled with filth, the streets were wide and open to the sky, the smells of spices, incense and the salty sea filled the air, and even as the buildings became larger and more impressive, this feeling of openness did not decline, merely obstructing the sight of the sky.
"How long has the city stood?" The queen asked aloud, breaking the suffocating silence that permeated the walk thus far.
"It was founded by First-Prince Ozzydamandius several centuries prior, with two other Princes: Golden Pharaoh, Lord Razim and Nasazel, Lord of Sorcery. Before long he recruited several other powerful individuals and brought to reality this most magnificent city that you stand in now."
"Were there other cities like this?"
"Many races that called a branch of the World-Tree their home had vast urbanized dwellings yes, but only few can be even categorized in the same league as Istannice and many of those, well, the word 'city' must be a bit of loose term with them, as many were very advanced keeps, castles and deeply layered dungeons, built by their own varying denizens."
"Were any on equal grounds with Istan-?"
"Absolutely none!" Calca would be worried that she somehow insulted Melkoth with the question, save that the same grin he carried yet shown a widening that hinted at genuine humor. "Many were foul things. Filled to the brim with monsters, abominations and their debased masters." Melkoth continued.
While Calca received the message clearly, it rose a dozen more questions in its place. 'There were more places like this? People who were as strong as them? Why didn't any of them come with Istannice and why did Istannice come now…?' And as she followed the elf, her chest shot with terrible possibility, a dull dreadfulness that spread from her heart, to her limbs and only stopped at her neck as she considered the possibility; 'What if some of those people were already here? All along?' The various gods, demons, great heroes and villains all throughout history suddenly became possibilities, how many of them were of this World and how many were outsiders, cast out from some strange place where this varien of strength and skill was commonplace?
Almost sensing this existential dilemma, Melkoth turned to the queen. "My dear, are you alright?"
The colors of Black and Blue approached their queen cautiously, "Yes, yes, sorry I was just lost in thought." She lightly rubbed her brow, trying to push the subject back out of her mind.
Melkoth nodded, "If you're willing to start off with the more banal, I know of a place nearby that will host us refreshments."
Neia looked to Pavel, who in turn looked closely at their queen, the latter most of which bit her lip slightly and nodded, "A drink would be exquisite, thank you."
Melkoth pointed to one of the graeci before pointing down one of the roads, the rest quickly forming up a line and heading in the direction the sand-elf made. The royal Roble entourage followed, keeping a steady eye on their monarch, uncertainty of the strange humor that suddenly befell her; the distant gaze that now longer saw the wonders of Istannice, the hollow steps that seemed to lack conscious effort, and the way she squeezed and unclenched her hands, held together as if in a kind of supplication.
Before too long, they met the doors of a stouter building amidst the various giants that grew only larger closer to the center of the city, this one's architecture clashing against its neighbors, being made from ashen, crude stone held together with nearly tar like mortar, its flat roof hosting a number of large, colourful umbrellas, and past its doorless entrance lay tables of rock, circled and seemingly carved from the bed of the island itself, and wooden chairs of relatively simple design, lit by a number of openings all throughout the top near the entrance, and at the back, lay a bar, seemingly made from the similar methods of its counters, and standing behind it was a dough eyed beastman of somkind, her face was young, but was almost shiny, with pale skin, inky black eyes and tar like near shoulder length hair, but a number of gills were seen ridging the sides of her neck, needle like teeth poked from her lips, large, eggplant colour fin like ears flanked her head and lastly there was a bizarre protrubance in the middle of her head, a fleshy horn that dangled limply just above her eyes, the end, bulb like and almost seemed to glow. She was adorned in revealing clothing, a scant green fabric top that only just covered her heavy breasts, held together with course string around her sides, leaving her midriff for all to see. In her hands she delicately cleaned a wine glass with white cloth, pausing in the midst of the action as she looked between Melkoth and the fresh party of humans.
The sand-elf smiled warmly at the bamboozled fish-lady, "A round of your finest for all here!" Turning to the humans and extending an arm, "Please, make yourself comfortable."
"These here outsiders?" The bartender asked with a slight lisp as she took out glasses to fill.
"Indeed." Melkoth nodded, carefully observing the anglerlass as she pulled out a golden pitcher from beneath the bar, pouring the chilled, rosy liquid into the cups, the glasses frosting quickly, water vaporing wafting from them. "Young miss… Neia was it? Can you help in the distribution of refreshments?"
Neia resisted looking to her father for support, instead nodding and quickly pacing up to the bar, holding a glass in each hand, and giving the first to her queen, then her father, and distributing the rest with Melkoth, before she kept one for herself and sat back down at the table.
Melkoth remained standing as he presented his own glass to the queen, "To honoured guests!" Knowing very well that these people were paranoid about what they were consuming, drank deeply from his beverage and gave a satisfied sigh.
The rest of the party sipped, tasted, then exclaimed in sheer joy and relief from it. "By the gods, what is this?" The disguised Blue inquired before quickly drinking the rest in his cup.
"Remarkable! It's so fruity, sweet but not too sweet, and keeps my chest cold even after it met my stomach." The queen described.
Neia couldn't put her finger on it, but her eyes widened at its magnificence, looking to her father, saw he had a similar expression and they exchanged wordless dialogue between them that concluded with them both, nearly simultaneously, gulping down what was in their glasses and smiling.
Melkoth smiled warmly, "I must now warn you all of what you have partaken: poison!"
The smiles quickly vanished, but Queen Calca could sense the mischievous lie in his words, "And a cure! You shall forever compare the Chillberry Waters with all other beverages, to crave it forever, but know whenever it is had; it shall rejuvenate you like nothing else."
"Sand-elves, so dramatic." The anglerlass commented dully as she continued cleaning the glasses.
Calca grinned, glad that this momentary distraction was able to put her mind more or less at ease. "Thank you, minister." She bowed her head slightly and stood up, "We shouldn't keep this appointment waiting at my expense, please."
"Oi!" The fish-lady yelled out, "I gotta report to my mayor about this one, who's them named?"
Melkoth's smile had an edge of malevolence to it as he turned to her, "A guest of Seraph Vehuel, I'm sure your mayor will get a wonderful exchange from the Minister of Conflict, particularly if this this isn't known to her." He closed his eyes, "I may have to visit again shortly after you send Hajin your message, your establishment could use some… improvements."
"Um…" The bartender looked from side to side, her skin looking clammy. "I uh… it was an honour to serve guests of the Prince."
"Your graciousness will meet his ears, I promise you." Melkoth opened his eyes, looking to the humans, "Shall we continue?"
The graeci outside of the tavern reformed the moment one of them stepped outside, and as they began to regain ground to the palace, Neia realized something she should have noticed from the first moment, "Um, where are the people?"
Melkoth glimpsed back at her and said loud enough for everyone to hear, "I had the wards from the dock to the palace isolate themselves in whatever building they so desire to minimize risk to your persons."
The shapes above him hinted that stated it was merely half a truth, but the Queen could not tell what the rest might have been. "Why clear the place out if you assigned us guards?"
"Please good queen, it is for our best interest." Melkoth insisted, doing his best not to give more information than is necessary.
"My interest was to see this city, a city without people is a ghost town."
The ring showed Calca he was conflicted, but also impressed at her persistance, fully knowing that she supsected something more to the people being hidden. "I understand, if you desire people, I will lift the curfew but only after we arrive at the palace."
Feeling that's the best she'll be able to get, she nodded and smiled.
Pavel could have sworn he saw the tall, horned shape briefly flicker at Melkoth's side, and as he slowly reached for the bow at his back, lost track of its thin outline as quickly. The more he thought he saw it, the more he thought this whole thing was a bad idea, a cold sweat forming at the prospect that these people consorted with demons. 'And whatever else they might have brought with them from their world.'
[]
"Um, mister uh…?" The elderly, bearded man looked between the golden-orange and gold-blue angel, uncertainly.
"Vehuel, please."
"Yes, um, we had a… ship leave with a woman that matches a similar description to what you describe. They left near a month ago now, they were charted for the ports of Re-Estize, but the ship has a bit of a… reputation for smuggling with those creatures further north, non-humans."
Vehuel felt his brows scrunch in worry and thought, "Beastmen? Like those that neighbor this kingdom?"
"No, mermaids, lizard and frog men, and from what I 'member about the stories, they were led by a this old, really big dragon, but I honestly doubt that last one."
"Rulthiel, can you track down the ship, or one her crew?" The big angel turned to the slightly smaller, robed one.
"Yes, I but will require a name. What happens if the same thing effecting my sister denies us finding the ship?"
Vehuel beat his wings so strong that the water near the dock momentarily left the shore before crashing back, soaking the nearby humans. "We assemble the Great Host and tear this world apart until we find her!" He seethed, armor glowing hot.
His fury distracted him a moment from those who he sought help from, now cowering in terror at his declaration. Orange filled his vision, diluting the worry he had, resigning himself from whatever impression they may have drawn from this exchange. "Thank you." Leaning down, dropping a large handful of gold and silver in front of those in charge, uncaring of who picks it up. "Tell the vessel's name."
"S-Sleeping Siren, ser." The man in charge repilied quickly.
"To Istannice." Vehuel commanded Rulthiel, whom quickly opened a Gate to the palace.
The moment they had left the Gate, the saw Melkoth welcoming them into the the vast golden hold. Melkoth looked momentarily beliggered, a visible drop of sweat that punctuated his stuttering, well rehearsed speech as he looked upon the pair of angels. Quickly dismissing himself from the humans, he approached the Seraph, but before he was in speaking distance, Vehuel commanded Rulthiel, "Get your brother, and the Seventh Legion prepared for any command."
"My lord, this is most unexpected, what brings-"
"Emergency, get the Minister of Matters home now and I don't care how." Looking to the humans, "Get someone else to attend them, we will need all ministers here immediately." He floated out of the palace, flying up to the highest point of the city's central tower, there, lay the Rallying Flame. It's only a notable buff to Istannice aligned forces, but its across the realm the city inhabits. Hopefully, it'll work for Vanniel, if she is still on the plane. "'The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; And on the pedestal, these words appear: My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair'!"
The tower burst up into a mighty flame, lancing the sky with its might, parting all clouds nearby until nothing but blue sky remained. When Vehuel looked down, he felt… mighty. Powerful. Unlike anything he experienced before, even as he slew enemies by the dozen. No, with the Lighthouse and his position in the heavens above the place beneath him, did he realize; 'This is my city.' Its denizens, powerful, skilled. He could make this world bleed and plead and cry out in such woe if he so desired with the strength he could bring to bear. And in a second after that booming feeling of elation, worry filled him, 'But what could challenge one of our strongest in this world of weaklings?'
"A Player…" He answered his own question. The reason for this apparent abduction, Vehuel could not guess, but he knew for certain whoever had committed this heresy, will pay dearly for it.
'Burn their lands, kill its people, set the cities to salt, and at it all, all those nearby will wonder as to the reason for event that'd make the extinction of the dinosaurs seem poultry, what could have offended a creature so? The one thing that I know, I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW,' He almost prayed, "Always protect your family." He said, uncertain if Luis began and Vehuel ended it, or maybe it was the other way around. Chef, fat-bastard, brother, murderer, Prince, Seraph, he didn't care if God himself stood between him and Vanniel, he'd throw all of Istannice like a mighty fist into whatever dare defile the safety of his kin.
Seconds passed, then the three towers around the lighthouse burst forth, the denizens of the aeries in full flight as they encompassed their Prince and master in a halo, bowing their heads towards them in deference, but Vehuel couldn't acknowledge such a sign, his mind to focused to know them, and it wasn't Rulthiel and Nothiel approached him did Vehuel's seething cease. "Shiehk desires words with you."
'And she will have them.' He fully intended to tell the woman what the plan was, and while a flicker of manners suggested he thank his sons, Vehuel mutely floated back down to the palace.
The sand-elf stood, hands on her hips defiantly as she saw the angel approach, "What in the name of Princes has gotten you so riled up? Even when being brought to a strange world, you wouldn't turn on the fortress." Vehuel landed and began to stride over to the woman. "And to make matters worse, I was in the middle of some very important intelligence gathering, those beastmen are possibly gathering to attack, and the south half of the Robles plan rebellion, and to make matters worse yo-!"
Vehuel summoned Gungnir into his hand and slammed the end of it so harshly into the ground before Shiehk, the entire island felt like it shook. Shiehk looked up at Vehuel in a new light, and never before had she felt like she had to look up at the man until now, and see how tall he was.
"Minister." He spoke out in a bark.
"My Prince?" She bowed her head.
"Take Gungnir once more, I leave soon. Vanniel might be in trouble. Deep trouble." Looking up at the Angelic Legion, before looking back down, "If I fall, you take all the forces you can and try to leave this plane, Rulthiel has some knowledge of the cosmos, but it may take time, you might be attacked. I take the Archangels with me, the Seventh is at your command, none will be finding you wanting."
Shiehk knew she couldn't question this. Terror dropped her mind into an ocean of uncertainty, something like him was going to a place where he might die. Die in such a way that resurrection is not an option, no matter the resources at hand. She couldn't speak, simply reaching out, and bowing at the waist, the Seraph flying quickly up to his sons.
"Do you have a location on the vessel?" Vehuel demanded.
"Yes, your Eminence." Rulthiel replied, "It is… strange, blinking in and out of accessibility to my sight, but I'm quite confident I can time it correctly."
"And if we become trapped like our sibling?" Nothiel inquired, bring voice to an option that might well be a possibility.
"We won't." Vehuel replied confidentially. Lifting up his arm, they could see a thin line being drawn between their lord and the tip of the burning flame of Istannice, 'A golden fleece?' Rulthiel pondered for a moment, 'Inseverable, but would tying one to the end of a city act as an anchor, a connection? Would it survive the teleportation at all?'
Beginning the spell, waving his hands between the three of them, Rulthiel, made a pair of other projections that cast armour and strength buffs on the two warriors and as the projections faded, the spell finished, and a brilliant white light claimed the three of them.
[]
A second later, darkness gave birth to dim, dank light, wet and soaked earth crunched beneath them as fish, long desiccated from the painful death of asphyxiation, crushed underfoot. They looked up at what they could see, the light emanated from Vanniel, whom, had taken her Apocalypse form, a vast, legless creature, of searing holy light, terrible wings that stretched as long as a small ship, and massive arms of near mirroring proportions, all the while, glowing a dim yellow, measuring-scales dangled from chains upon her tabard, and upon every corner of her armour, there was a mouth, under normal circumstances they were used to make spells, specifically to buff allies or debuff enemies, but now they were strained silent, teeth gritting against the struggle. Under her palms, she made a shield that held the ceiling of the cavern… no… this was no cavern.
As Vehuel snapped his gaze near her, the wooden, human ship loomed, beached at the bottom of the ocean itself. And above, the waters were being held at bay for weeks by the Archangel of Compassion. And not just water… A flicker of many red eyes, amidst a mass as large as Vanniel is now met his eye before just as quickly vanishing like smoke. Then. It appeared lower, more to eyelevel in the bubble Vanniel formed to the recent arrivals. Vehuel contemplated his own positioning on the celestial hierarchy, thinking that few other beings could match him, but a glimmer of something heavy and… thick shrouded the notion like tar to a lit candle as he looked on its many eyes.
"She is wounded!" Rulthiel flew up to his sister's side, quickly muttering his incantations, a low glow surrounding the Archangel, where her once bending back began to straighten.
"Thank you… by the Princes, forgive my transgressions!" Vanniel's massive voice boomed. "I… do not know if the crew still live."
Vehuel gave a wordless command to Nothiel, who flew to the creaking vessel in all haste.
The Seraph flew up to Vanniel, who's head looked to the side a moment in shame. Risking a glance towards him, Vehuel broke out, "HOW IN THE BLOODY HELL?!"
"M-My Prince?"
"You don't call, don't write, next thing I know, I find a massive monster above you, and unable to teleport in without getting your brothers… what the blazes happened to get you like this? By GOD, is this what being a parent is like?" He placed his thumb and finger over his brow, "Are you alright? What happened?" He finished, slightly ashamed of himself for the outburst.
"Father, I… never left the human's side since the beastmen were killed. I asked you if I could look over them… I never really asked how long I could, and, when a week passed without word or summons, just stayed with them. Then Evan asked if I wanted to go to sea with him, then when we got close to land, we saw this floating city, and this massive dragon sent us here."
"This place borders the New World and some… darker place…" Rulthiel commented. "It is less that we are standing on the bottom of the ocean, this place is the very top of a watery, terrible world… I can feel my divine abilities beginning to become taxed from this reality… we should leave."
"The crew remains!" Nothiel sent out.
Vanniel sighed in relief before quickly gasping as Vehuel stated, "Leave them."
Nothiel nodded, flying up from the wreck, as Vanniel looked at her father as incredulously as her limited features could express, "No! We have to save them."
Vehuel lifted his wrist, the fleece still loosely dragging to some small plane spanning wound, "We came here to rescue you, there is a reason I did not have your brother teleport the entire standing set of legions here. The fewer to teleport en masse, the less issues, time and mana used. With you in your form as is, we may have difficulty slipping back out, and we cannot have you turn back into a different form without someone else taking your place, plus, I'm going to go on a limb here and believe what you're shielding us from isn't just your regular run of the twenty-thousand leagues of crushing liquid?"
Vanniel looked to him, but turn away and gave a short nod.
"So… you were banished by a dragon to a… Hell? Let's not split hairs here, this looks like a Hell. Where it knew that the natural effects of the place would have an eroding effect that would defeat you through sheer attrition of just being here. Yeah. We need to get you out of here, because those humans might be the first of many more to suffer from this new enemy, and we can't risk being wrong."
"Just tell me you're doing it to punish me!" Vanniel demanded, enraged, sour and with a hint of desperation. "I could hold this barrier up forever if it meant giving my brother a chance to save them too!"
Vehuel paused for a moment, until, "You've let your compassion drive you too far from your family, you may not like my decision, but please, trust it. I…" He clenched and unclenched his fists, "I cannot think of what might have happened if you were hurt in such a way you could not recover from." He thought again, "Are there any children on the ship? Women?"
Vanniel couldn't bear to speak up any more, only shaking her head and looking away from Vehuel.
"Tell me, if there is one or two that you must bring ba- wait…" A thought occurred to him, before he descended into to the ship.
"Father? What are doing?!" Vanniel demanded in a panic, the fear and uncertainty effecting her deeply, her armor lessening to a silver luster, the protective field she formed began to buckle and an opening at the top, the size of a fist, sprung a leak for the impossible black water to leak inside.
Vehuel was either ignorant or ignored Vanniel's statement as he descended into the wooden carcass of the human ship. He saw Nothiel on his way in, and while the huddling den of humans seemed unknown to him, malnourished, starved and desperate, among the skinny mass, he saw one visage amongst them that made something in his chest skip a beat, and was overcome with such a rage that his mind halted and his body stopped.
"You…" Vehuel managed to state, as he looked upon the human from before. Gaunt as he was, the Seraph couldn't forget that murderous intensity from when he poured the burning liquid on him in that ghastly castle.
Evan looked up, bleary and worn, only pausing a moment as he looked at the angel and gave a small, sad chuckle. "You're not real." Laying his head back against the hull. "It'd be too funny if fate decided for you to rescue me twice."
Vehuel's armor warmed, glowing in hatred as he stomped past the human refuse before reaching down and grasping the man by his filthy clothes collar. His face briefly danced with lucidity, contemplating whether or not what was happening was indeed a reality or just a particularly convincing dream.
Vehuel didn't have words for him. Instead, the angel punched a solid section of the ship open to him, carrying the human out to the very edge of where the barrier ended. And there, waiting for him in this cruel plan, the monster he saw briefly before, its dozens of burning red eyes against its inky, finned, clawed and tentacled body. Eager. Anticipating. Joyous. Like a trained dog waiting for a treat.
Vehuel pressed the back of the human to the water, and suddenly the man sobered against its cold wetness, and his eyes widened in terror as he looked behind him and shuddered.
"He looks like I biter." Vehuel muttered loud enough for Evan to hear, "I should be careful to keep my fingers out of his way, don't you think?"
Vanniel screamed at the top of her lungs, and compounded by the form she took, the waters around them shook as she shrieked, "FATHER! NO!"
Vehuel barely heard her, and most definitely didn't see or consider the various other columns of water beginning to rush in.
However, both brothers flew to their Prince's side and voiced a shared reasoning, "If you kill him, the effect may weaken my sister's heart so that it could kill all of us, including the one we came to rescue." Rulthiel explained calmly.
Evan couldn't speak, trapped between monsters, he looked up to Vanniel as her struggle began to mount in both desperation and accepting the grim possibility that he might well die.
Vehuel pressed the human a little firmer into the water, some of him beginning to sink, and the leviathan sized beast sunk down to the ground, closer to the meal to come.
"My Prince," Nothiel placed a hand on the arm that held the human. "If you would have us trust you, you must also trust us, this mortal's death will come in time. It may not be by your hand, but it is as certain as the beast that licks its chops eagerly to devour all of us, and it will if you do what you're contemplating."
Slowly, Vehuel pulled the human back but didn't release him. The beast roared its deafening dim, teased and denied by the Seraph. Vehuel looked to Nothiel, "The rest of the crew, give them peace. Make it fast and painless."
Nothiel nodded, flying back to the ship to do as he was bid.
Evan clawed at the arm that held him, "No, wait, please!" The seraph's grasp burnt against his clothes, and for a moment looked like he was closing to putting him back into the water.
"This is your punishment, little man." Vehuel almost whispered, "I don't know how you seduced Vanniel for this, but it nearly led to her death."
There were no screams, no yelling. Evan heard something being dropped, like a section of a bull being dropped to the ground after the butcher was done carving it, but several moments later, and the angel returned, his blade bloody.
"You bastard!" Evan pounded weakly against the arm, smacking his elbow joint from every angle to get it to break, but after several impacts, Evan just wanted the angel to hurt, at least a little from his hateful throes. Having the contrary effect, one last hit actually broke his right hand, making him curse profusely.
Vanniel didn't say a word as Nothiel did his duty, but her shoulders slumped more deeply from the despair of the act, several of the holes sealing over, but enough water was allowed in that the area was now a swampy mess.
"Ruthiel, get us home." Vehuel ordered wearily.
It took a few minutes more, until the sorcerous celestial was able to coax the spell to lead them back home, fleece of gilded substance or not, this place weighed down all action, be it weaving a spell or simply living from one moment to the next.
And those bleak moments of this dreadful scenario leaving them behind, why could was this weight not leaving their shoulders when next they saw the brilliant visage of the City Eversweet?
Vanniel? Her shame and her fatigue, but then the cruel spring of joy when she saw Vehuel let Evan down to the ground of the palace.
Rulthiel? His uncertainty of what was experienced, what more that may lay beyond, and how much of it was truly different then what he expected, the horrors and wonders both.
Nothiel? His doubt, damning and shocked at his sister for her sheer neglect of her duties to the city and her fellow angels.
Then Vehuel himself? Uncertainty atop uncertainty, of both himself, and what purpose he thought he had begun to fashion for himself. Could he protect his city, if he cannot, could he even protect what small facsimile of a family he retained?
Vehuel leant his head forward in capitulation of what he must do, realizing he was acting a fool for letting his desires rule him, ignore his responsibilities, whether he wanted these duties to Istannice or not. "Vanniel." He looked to the archangel, now her true, more humanoid angelic form, and walked towards her.
"Father, I-I'm truly sorry wit-"
Vehuel hugged her, silencing the angel of compassion. The act was far more awkward then when he was human, all the armor that was there body, not to mention the wings getting in the way as he tried to wrap his arms fully around her back and neck. "The fault is mine, child. I am sorry."
Vanniel did not respond, or hug back. Instead, she leant forward and laid her hooded 'head' on Vehuel's shoulder.
Nearly a minute passed until Vehuel padded her lightly, "Please, return to your aerie and rest, I must speak with the Ministers."
Vanniel stood back from the Seraph and nodded before flying out of the palace.
Vehuel looked to Rulthiel and Nothiel, "I will need you both with me when I speak with the Ministers, but may you," Looking to Rulthiel, "please get the Robel visitors to join us? This may involve them as well."
Looking down on the human as the archangel Gated himself away, "And you…" The human was barely standing, but looked up defiantly at the Seraph, "I give you your life back, twice. I will not provide it a third. Get this creature home by way of spell from the Sand-Elf Spellmasters, but do not tolerate resistance of any kind, Nothiel." Giving instruction to the last Archangel, Vehuel unraveled what was left of the Golden Fleece from around his wrist, its luster now dulled from either use or exposure to the bizarre realm, he was uncertain. Such items were made for quick escapes, when equipped by a party, certain spells such as Mass Relocation, Gate or Teleport-Party were faster, more secured, but they took a lot of the rarer materials to make, recalling how dull it was farming the materials from a specific series of higher tiered elite-mooks in Vanaheim. Vehuel clenched his fist, the element of the New World's scarcity only now dawning on him.
[]
"Well," Pavel sat next to Neia on a red, very fluffy cushion, something he found strange but intriguing, like a bushel of pillows thrown onto the floor, "if we're prisoners, we're being well taken care of." Taking a glass of the chill-water stuff from a nearby table.
Neia sat on a similar cushion of ultramarine, uneasily switching between sides of her buttocks as she closed her eyes, worry clearly strewn across her face, "Sorry, but this a first time for me."
Pavel smiled and chuckled, "Don't worry, I'm sure they just don't want us hearing anything embarrassing." 'Or dangerous.' He finished mentally, but his eyes wondered around the room again, looking for any sign of the horned creature he saw before.
Neia paused, but opened her eyes towards her father, and curiosity found its way to her mouth before reason, as she asked, "Were you ever taken prisoner?"
Pavel blinked from his vigil and looked towards his daughter with surprise.
Neia hissed and looked away, "I-ignore that! Sorry, it just kind of came out."
"I was little younger than you." He replied shortly after.
Neia refocused her sight on Pavel as he continued to explain, but he looked down mournfully. "I was still apprenticed to my master, Jooren. We thought we were undiscovered when we were scouting beyond the wall, but when we got closer to one of their camps, they strung us up and brought us back. I…" He rolled his jaw, "Don't know what happened to master, but I was put into forced labor for a month before I was lucky enough to escape. I fled to the wall, and the guards at its post held me there until someone could verify who I claimed to be."
"That's horrible." Neia replied breathlessly.
"Horrible yes, but there were these… moments with the beastmen. I will never be able to claim if they were truly human, in the fullest sense of the word, but they were not the monsters I thought they were. I understood them better. Made me better at fighting them, but… harder still for it."
Neia's mouth opened slightly, wanting to say something, but instead looked away again and remained silent.
"You can ask me anything, okay?" Pavel smiled as he noticed her distress, "You don't have to be worried; I promise I'll answer you the best I can."
Neia glimpsed back at her father and bite the inside of her cheek apprehensively, "I… yes, papa."
A knock on the door to the room followed immediately after.
Pavel smiled, "Looks like we'll be released pretty soon too! Take your place by the queen."
Instead of Melkoth's warm smile, they opened the door to a tall, faceless angel, his blue robes flowing over his armor, his visage was not visible, but a strange unease filled all them as they looked for it in his hood. "Fear not," He bowed at the shoulder, raising a hand whilst putting the other over his chest, "I am to take you to a meeting of our Ministers, it is very important, and the Seraph would wish you to join us."
The queen nodded grimly, "What about Prince Luis?"
The celestial creature's aura was in a moment of flux, blighted by confusion and uncertainty to the queen's ring, but it answered, "I'm certain he will answer this gathering with his presence."
"Good." Calca smiled, "Shall we leave now?"
He nodded his head and gestured for them to follow, the walk was relatively short, but to Neia it felt tense, which made it feel like they were waltzing a mountain's distance by the time they arrived at the appropriate room, a vast, round table with varying chairs of size and design, headed by a massive throne nearby and at the back of the room, underneath a massive, blue-emerald stone, that glowed slightly and rotated slowly clockwise, and the longer she looked at it, she could have sworn she heard a deep, almost inaudibly low beating. Like a heart.
Melkoth approached them, and bowed his head a moment, "I apologize, an emergency has arrived at our doorstep." Gesturing to the seats, "Please, Queen Calca, take this seat. It belonged to a human warrior called Percilia, patron of the Graeci here."
The chair didn't seem like it was something that could be pulled out from the table, made out of a solid gold, a massive shield on its back and its arm rests were marble covered in furs but didn't seem connected to the floor.
Calca hummed in confusion, uncertain of how to slip herself in between the narrow opening of the table and the chair.
A mariner, Enrique Neia presumed, walked over to her and bowed, "If you'll allow me." Putting both hands on the top of the chair and pulling. It didn't budge in the slightest. His frustrations mounting for every attempt thereafter, until he got so fed up that he hopped onto the table, placed his feet on the back of the chair, put his hands on the tables edge and gave one last, grueling scramble of effort, sweat pouring and being thrown every which way.
"Ahem." Melkoth coughed into his fist, before putting a hand on the top of it, and pulling back. The thing smoothly pulled out, and Enrique fell into the crevice between to the two objects, his back making an audible pop that made all viewing the spectacle hiss in pity.
Enrique retracted himself from the spot, with a clear hunch to his stance as he sourly looked to the sand-elf then to his queen, "Your seat, milady."
Melkoth hid his growing grin behind his hand as the queen took the chair and tried her best not to feel embarrassed by what just occurred. 'So much for looks!' Calca thought.
Not too soon after, the Ministers arrived, and now did the Robel in the room realize that Istannice was hiding some stranger elements which they were keeping away from their eyes until now. There were beastmen, humans and elves in the city, this was understood, but now they saw creatures that many considered constructs, those 'Ushabti', have a representative, different and more elaborate and most certainly more lifelike then those they saw bring Shiehk and her ilk to Calca's kingdom. Then, did she see someone, something, erupt from a point in a room and become clearly visible to those human's unknown to him. A demon. His body, if robed and slightly lanky, looked more or less human, but his neck was long and bent, holding a head that was tortured, mutilated, having terrible horns and hellish eyes that gleamed with menace. Despite the terror he brought, his teeth, it had no lips to use, contorted in such a way that it seemed to 'smile' at them, as he played a single, simple, short, and almost disturbingly calming tune, its beauty clashing with the demonic visage of its maker.
Not too soon after the demon musician appeared, did a stone faced giant of a man, elderly but the various wrinkles and hair, but his stare was everything but haunting. "Your seat is my Princess's and mistress's, why sit you here?" He narrowed his glare, menacingly and pointed at Queen Calca.
She could see the hostility with her ring, but the question was a test, of what subject she could not tell. Pavel walked towards the man, "She was seated here by Minister Melkoth, if you have an issue take it up with him."
"I did not ask you, dog. You." Pointing at the queen. "What makes you worthy?"
Calca paused a moment and considered, "Pardon me, I thought you graeci were strong, but if you need to sit, by all means, take mine." Smiling, standing up and gesturing towards it.
The Robles were aghast that this man up seated their queen, then immediately insulted him, but the gruff man that approached them gave the tiniest of smiles, nodding slightly, "Never mind me." Then walking past the entourage to Melkoth's side, where Calca sat back down with a broad, proud grin, and those of her party were only slightly put at ease, astonished by their queen's cheek and success both.
Not too long after, the Seraph of Audacity and the angel that brought them here, alongside a newcomer of their kind, more armored and embellished in crimson, but not appearing anything remotely as formidable as the golden juggernaut of the seraph. "Thank you all for coming, I'll cut right to the chase; the Archangel of Compassion was attacked."
The ministers didn't hide their shock at the statement, but the seraph lifted a hand to calm their worries before saying, "She lives and is recovering, but was indeed wounded from the experience. We must find out who has performed this attack and why." 'Then damn well do the same to him!' Vehuel thought privately. "Which is why we have an audience, we ask the Roblians if they have any information of a 'massive dragon' that can perform such a task."
All the outsiders gave a silent, bewildered look at the seraph. "The Platinum Dragon Lord." Queen Calca sighed, "but we… many people assume he still rests in his city, unable to leave guarding his horde, and even when the Evil Entities rose to terrorize the world, he could only join the Thirteen Heroes in the form of his proxy, a suit of armor he had to control with magic as he stood by his home."
Vehuel nodded, "Is there any more information we can gleam? Lore masters from your kingdom or adventurers that have notable knowledge in this regard."
Queen Calca nodded, "I will have any and all who can provide you such sent to your people in my palace."
Vehuel looked to the angels at his side, and they both nodded silently as the Seraph quickly left.
"Wait!" Calca cried out, "What are your intentions if this wasn't the Dragon Lord's-?" The Seraph had left the room entirely, ignoring the woman. She rolled her jaw and scoffed, "How rude."
Not a second later, from an opposing door on the side of the palace, a flash of yellow light shot outwards to the inside of the room, and out strode Prince Luis, waving his hand at everyone, smiling from ear to ear, "Afternoon!"
Calca heard Shiehk give a quiet scoff before walking towards her ruler, who relayed the recent events. "Oh, oh my…" Luis replied, surprised but unconcerned somehow.
'If this man is able to rule all these people, these near-gods, how strong is he?' The Mad-Eye archer considered, seeing the rather benal creature. Grey skinned, but he bore no weapons, no armor, in fact, seemed quite peaceable, but the longer he stared at the strange human like man the archer couldn't help but deny there was so strange, radiating undeniable power about him.
The prince looked grimly to the ministers and the Robles, and grimaced, "I apologize for these happenings, your visit should have been free of issues."
Calca smiled and nodded, "Such are the difficulties of state, you just missed your military's leader leaving."
"I'm confident he had a good reason." Calca's ring told her he was hiding something but was not of a malicious nature. Luis smiled, "If you wish, we can send for your advisors in this regard, this is an international issue afterall." Looking to Shiehk, who complied in readying a scroll did give him a deathly glare when she did so.
The queen nodded, "That might be best." 'If Istannice goes war with Argland, the casualties suffered between the crossfire will be enormous!' The queen kept her calm, however, as she was Gated back to her palace, where she called for the Custodio sisters to be brought to her, but what surprised the attendant was her asking, "Also, fetch my brother. I will value his council greatly."
However, at the same time in Istannice, Luis looked to the two remaining angels, "Appraisal?"
The blue one spoke, "We… our sister was sent to another realm, a dark place. A creature there was beyond my scope of detection, which is not only strange but frightening if its able to ignore my skills."
"And this dragon sent the Archangel there? No one else?"
"So it appears." The red one commented lowly.
Luis pursed his lips, "Alright, lets get our facts straight; this was a deliberate attack by a dragon, was powerful enough to send one of our strongest to another realm, but did not or could not kill her, but the Roblians state that the dragon of such strength still remains in his own little hold."
"It would cause a far reaching stir if he was out and about," Pavel stated, "such an event would cause worry from here to the farthest end of the Bahuruth Empire on the otherside of the continent."
The prince put a fist up to his mouth, looking to the floor in thought. "I see."
A Gate opened a second after, emerging out four figures, the last a new comer to Luis's eyes. "Ah, and you are?"
He was a handsome, tall man with golden hair and blue eyes, he smiled as he nodded his head in greeting to Luis, "I am Caspond Bessarez, elder brother to my Queen."
Luis smiled and nodded back, "Good to meet you! Your sister mentioned you in passing."
Caspond looked to the side at his sister whom smirked devilishly, "All good, I hope?" He asked.
Calca shrugged humorously.
Remedios took a step forward, "Your Highness? What is this about?"
Prince looked to both of the sisters, "Information. Right now one of my strongest angels had nearly been destroyed by a dragon, we theorize that it was Platinum Drago-"
Kelart couldn't hold back her laughter, shocking the group and making the ministers look a mote more bloodthirsty from mocking their Prince.
"Sorry, sorry, really sorry!" She waved a hand from side to side, "With all due respect, that silvery sod wouldn't leave his city unless the world had suddenly decided to grow a voice and demand he do so."
Luis lifted a shoulder, "It's the best we got, and the angel was near Argland when the attack occurred. I have little doubt the attacker could have destroyed the ship, but it purposely sent a divine being into a place where their nature goes against the environment itself, it knew what it was doing and what Vanniel was. No ability of hers could allowed escape. Do you know of any other dragon that could perform such magic?"
Kelart puffed her lips and tapped the end of her chin with a finger, narrowing her sight straight ahead, "Hmmm… none that are alive…" The tapping stopped, using the same finger to point at Luis, "But you must also know that angels aren't new here, and if your… Vanniel, was able to be rescued, alive, it was not an end all be all plan for something of its caliber. It may have been used to send lesser angels, or maybe other divine beings to die…" She hummed again, uncertain. "I'm surprised you don't know anything about the specifics of the attack, can we speak with Vanniel about it?"
"No." Luis firmly, "She is in need of rest, but I cannot wait for a new enemy to prepare while it has these capabilities, we need answers, but if we cannot have them, a better alternative is to strike."
Kelart rose an eyebrow at him, "Why not send a delegation? Maybe it thought your angel friend was Slane."
Luis clenched and unclenched his jaw, "So that they might send more of my people into a different plane? Or worse, capture them and pry intelligence of my city and their fellows out of their minds?"
Kelart sighed and extended a hand out vaguely, "This can't be the work of the Platinum Dragon Lord, but he might know who has done this. Not many dragons are just wandering around the world, and even fewer people know how to shapeshift into such a creature, but that scaly shut-in has been around longer then countries, religions, entire cultures, has his hand in more grand affairs then anyone else, and you're telling me you want to light his house on fire because there's an icicle's chance in Hell he might have been your mysterious enemy." She pointed back at the Prince, "It's foolishness."
Luis stood in stunned shock, and every member of Istannice was a hair breadth's away from killing the outsiders. Shiehk already saw it in her minds eye; she'd Message Argos to kill the nobles in the palace, then return home with all speed. They'd probably have to kill the other humans in the country in short order right after.
Instead, the Prince looked away from Kelart, slightly ashamed. "I…"
Calca was half tempted to chastise Kelart for her lack of curtesy, but it did seem to have a large effect on the Prince.
Luis rubbed the back of his head, "I'll… we'll discuss this more in the morning. I may have to think longer about this, you all may stay further as planned if you wish."
Queen Calca gave a long, deep sigh, her relief nearly making her fall over. "We will take this offer, thank you prince Luis."
Luis looked to the ministers, and said, "In the meantime, I want all people of Istannice returned home, including those at Hoburns, I'll see to the party we've sent south."
Shiehk nodded and floated away into gold-dust, the other Ministers awaiting orders, "Return to your duties." Luis dismissed them all.
Melkoth approached the humans as the Prince departed the Palace. His expression was pensive, as if still wrangling with that desire to kill these people, but still followed his Prince's commands. "I will take you to your prepared rooms, are you three staying?" To the newcomer humans.
"Certainly not, I have many duties to attend to." Remedios shot her chin up at the elf.
Caspond gave a nervous glance to his sister, "Uh, I hate to seem rude at the offer, but I am having some important talks with the south."
Calca nodded and smiled, ignoring his apprehension, "By all means."
Kelart hummed to herself in thought. "Actually, I wouldn't mind staying… for a bit at least, this place looks amazing. The bragging rights with the others of my order will be staggering…" She said to herself and smiled.
Melkoth seemed almost personally insulted by the human Kelart's acceptance of the offer, seeing it as a formality by his lord and master that should not be abused by one so disgraceful to the Prince. "As you wish." And while these emotions were plain to Calca, the Sand-Elf smiled and nodded in his usual fashion, but quickly left her in the embrace of her countrymen to do as they will, entirely neglecting to warn her about the city's apparent dangers, as strange as the instructions were to avoid them.
Queen Calca turned to Kelart and gave a displeased hum, "You know you might have just stepped on more then a few toes with that little impolitic display?"
Kelart smiled back, "It's what I do."
Calca closed her eyes and sighed, "And out of all of the people you could have done it to, you did it to people that were considering attacking the Platinum Dragon Lord like you and I consider responding to raids by Beastmen."
Kelart grimaced, "Well, when you put it like that; you make me sound like my sister."
Calca shrugged, "Your sister might have a temper and isn't as… intellectual as you, but she knows when to bite her tongue when it's important."
"When she thinks its important. If Remedios thinks to her its right to speak, she won't shut up. But she isn't the stop and talk type. Truly, I sometimes forget she's a woman." Recalling very well how her sibling was established as leader of the Kingdom's order of Paladin's.
"Still," Calca gave a stern, commanding face as she explained, "If you chose to be here, you will not let such a thing occur again. And while you are at it, you will apologize for your lack of grace."
Kelart blinked and stared back, mouth agape, "But I didn't say anything wrong!" She whined childishly.
"You will now make the apology publicly, for several people of Istannice to witness."
"I-!" Kelart's face flushed red.
"Chose your next words very carefully, high priestess." Calca warned, and using her title reminded the both of them what their positions in the realm demanded.
Kelart bit the inside of her cheek briefly, before closing her eyes and bowing at the shoulder, "As you command, my queen."
"Good." Calca nodded, "Rise, and before you go off adventuring through the city, Melkoth mentioned a couple things to my group when we arrived…"
[][][]
Felrrin growled lowly as she read the letter, "…and as of now, all citizens of Istannice must return as soon as possible, to insure not only the safety of our city but the people that live in its shadow."
Reynard coughed, putting a hand up to cover his smile, "That means we just teleport us and the carriage back? I won't have to drive the thing anymore?"
Felrrin gave a knowing glare at the foxkin which easily conveyed, 'Don't sound too happy about this.'
Azimuth asked aloud, "Have any idea what might be happening? The Prince seemed to very much enjoy this excusion, and dread to know what might have him so shortly recall it not half way to our destination."
Felrrin rerolled the message-scroll, brows scrunched as she looked at the table between them, then looked at the table to outsiders sat at on the otherside of the deployed carriage.
"We press on." He looked between the two of them, scanning their reactions.
Azimuth's was surprised, but not grave, it conveyed the shock of so willing nakedly defying the Prince with her peers.
Reynard's was a little more animated.
"Oh, come ON!" Standing from his seat and rubbing his hand on his face, catching the outsider's attention.
"Be quiet and sit down!" Felrrin ordered.
"No, no no no!" Reynard pointed at the Sand-Elf, "We go back! Why in the Hell do ya wanna go forward?!"
"Listen, this might well be a test of some sort." Felrrin knocked the end of the scroll on the table, "We were ordered 'as soon as possible' not with all speed, not immediately. It denotes a… grace of time, a convenience with those who have missions of import, like us! We must finish the mission!"
"I swear to the Princes, if you don't start makin' sense now I'll-"
"I'll let you sleep with women."
Reynard stopped midpace with his threat, the offer from Felrrin striking a chord within his heart that hummed almost as fiercely as his honour and duty to the city.
Reynard looked between Azimuth and Felrrin, his fiery defiance dimmed. "You won't tell the Prince if he suddenly rejoins us?"
"We won't." Felrrin looked to Azimuth sternly, conveying that this condition extended to her.
"And if these prejudiced little morsels we encounter on the way are a little… strange to the idea, you'll provide me a potion to make such a rendezvous more interesting." Reynard quickly licked his drying lips at the growing boon.
Felrrin seemed to hesitate a moment, and asked, "You know that isn't exactly a gentlemanly approach to getting a woman in bed? Nor is it… savory."
Azimuth stared at the Sand-Elf as she said, "It is rape, Sand-Elf."
Felrrin hissed at the Aldrikni from the statement, but still agreed with the hairy creature. Reynard looked eagerly for an answer, "No potions of mind control or anything like that… but I can…" She sighed, "fashion an aphrodisiac."
Azimuth hissed back harshly at the Sand-Elf's offer, before quickly standing, "I'll not hear anymore of this conspiring. Know that I will ensure your safety and keep word of whatever it is you do silent, if pressed by Vehuel I… do not know if I can keep such secrets! And you're both fools if you think you can either!" Before departing into the night veiled woods.
Reynard and Felrrin both thought on their departed companions warning, and when they looked back at each other they both understood they both shared the terrible feeling of treachery. Of not only duty, but decency.
Just by making the terms and setting the mission ahead, they already felt it was too late to turn back. "Your word?" Felrrin asked.
Reynard looked to the sky for a moment, waiting to see the Prince, perched on the nearby tree, waiting for what he'll say next before swooping down to express praise or cut off his head.
Then he noticed the outsiders talking and stared intently at the human sorcerous.
Looking back at Felrrin, he nodded, without a smile. "You have my word."
[][][][[][][][][]
JUMPING DRAGON JESUS FINDING THE MOTIVATION TO WRITE THIS ONE WAS HELL!
Sorry this took so long, but work has been going through a dozen different kinds of insanity because of the various events throughout the last several months. It is not really my duty in life to judge the tide as it ebbs and flows, but man has it been tiring to avoid getting wet.
Hopefully, I can push another chapter of Overlord out soon, just recently got the first light novel and hidey ho did I screw the lore and background on more then one thing. I may go back and edit but write now moving forward and finishing the plan is more of a concern, I will refine the finished product later.
I hope you are safe and happy, and please try your best to continue to do so.
Cheers!