Chapter 73: feeling achy and stuff (i-in a good way…)
Lower Fire Month, 2nd Day, 600 AGG
"We've sealed all the tunnels we could find, Rajan," the dirt-covered Kshatra bowed her head. "Our rangers are settled in as well."
"Make the druids and arcanists double-check. The smallest hole—even the slightest crack must not be overlooked," Enverak Ur commanded the tigerwoman sharpshooter. "Our Ambulatory Edifices?"
"I haven't heard anything new," he grunted at the answer. Without the infantry carriers, they wouldn't be able to deploy troops to retake their lost territory even if they managed to drive off the current swarm. "We've left them in storage for too long, and they aren't like typical combat constructs."
Enverak looked into the distance where clansmen and outsiders were servicing the spindly-legged quadruped golems. Their size made them expensive to construct, but the small number of enchantments and mana required offset that cost. 'They were built to be easily repaired though.'
Had they released the Edifices from storage during the peak of the war in the west, then they wouldn't have this problem. Unfortunately, transporting warriors housed in golems via waygates tended to have horrific results. In addition, the size of the carriers meant that the material costs of teleporting them separately were much greater than if they only sent troops; thus for practicality's sake, the clans elected to hold back their heavier autonomous armaments. 'There wasn't a great need for them against the humans anyhow.'
"Has your arbalest been repaired yet, Ekala?" He chose to change the topic. Ekala wasn't responsible for Clan Ur's constructs anyway. "It was damaged a few weeks ago, right?"
"The craftsmen are stretched thin," a hint of annoyance entered Ekala's voice. "Worst comes to worst, I'll rely on my slingshot."
Enverak grunted. As a sniper, Ekala wasn't restricted to a specific type of armament, but her stronger Martial Arts were associated with bow and crossbow-type weapons, not slingshots. 'We need the extra lethality.'
"I'll tell them to move yours up the list," the Kshatra let out a grateful chuff. "Get going; time isn't on our side."
"At once, Rajan!"
'Is it going to be enough?' Spiders sweeping across the east were driving a good tens of thousands of refugees through Ur'lathla. It was mildly surprising that the incursion was this 'limited,' but he wouldn't lower his guard. The vermin had proven their intelligence time and time again; underestimating them would absolutely be a fatal mistake.
"You," he called out to one of the harried lionmen loading a crate of supplies onto an Auroch-pulled wagon. Not one of his, if the 'perception' he had towards them was to be trusted. "Take me to the refugees from Ur'draga."
Their tail swept the ground in agitation as they grunted and wiped the grime off their hands. "Please follow me, Rajan."
Enverak was led out the city's center towards a clearing situated in the western outer region. A makeshift camp had already been set up with druids, clerics, and even Kshatras weaving about rendering whatever aid they could spare.
His heart filled with pride. 'We've yet to be broken, and I'll be damned if some vermin get the best of us.'
The last Rajan, his father, had repelled several similar attacks. Standing in his sire's stead, he could do no less. "If only the angels didn't pop out of nowhere…"
"Rajan?" The lionman's ears twitched as they glanced at him.
"I was considering our situation," Enverak shook his head. "Pay it no heed."
From the messages he'd received, the angels were still stationed in Kruurat facilitating the transfer of livestock and slaves westwards to the human lands. He grudgingly resigned himself to the Draconic Kingdom's decision; it was the obvious course of action for anybody who had the opportunity to take it.
Knowing this, he knew that the mercy shown to the Vahasi Republic was already out of the ordinary—hells, utter annihilation would be the anticipated outcome ninety-nine times out of one hundred.
Instead, they had been spared with the exception of the last Viziers and the eight clans closest to the capital. Aside from the Viziers, those eight, and the clans that participated in the more recent raids, everyone else remained relatively unscathed. 'I doubt the missing positions on the Council will ever be reinstated. No, it already has ceased to exist.'
The Republic was no longer under the rule of its own people. Such a truth was apparent from the moment the first dread angel crossed into their domain and beaten into their skulls when they spread the desecrated corpse of Rajan Kroh'or.
Nothing was their own anymore; it belonged to the despicable Dragon Queen and her champion, whether they accepted it or not. An existence whose opinion of them was made crystal clear through her scornful actions.
Enverak clenched his fists, groups of beastmen hurriedly moving out his path. Sure, he was thankful his people had been spared; if ever came the day where they needed to pick up arms against their conquerors, then that was the day Clan Ur would be wiped off the map.
That didn't mean he could stomach the humiliation heaped upon them. To have to lower their heads and prostrate themselves against the nation they had once been poised to subsume was—
"Here's the section they're located in, Rajan," his guide pointed at the group of tents and various other forms of temporary shelter called from the earth via druidic abilities. "Good luck."
"Noted," Enverak said under his breath. It grated his nerves heaving to accommodate the warriors of outsider clans sent to reinforce his position. Their aid was appreciated, but for it to be given so suddenly meant there had been no time to prepare and organize his city for their arrival.
That they weren't innately receptive to his 'authority' didn't help matters either.
The tigerman lord shoved all unnecessary ruminations out his mind and searched the accommodations for the merchant who had caused a ruckus when they'd arrived. 'What idiot would send reinforcements out into Mac'tal infested lands when we're lacking so much information?'
He didn't have to search far—or at least that's what he wanted to say. In truth, the search took the better half of an hour as the tigerman peeked inside numerous living quarters and questioned even more traumatized beastmen before he finally came across his quarry. "Merchant!"
"Eh? Do you hear that, Yassin?" Enverak's eye twitched at the blatant disrespect in the gnoll's sneering tone. "Big shot can't figure something out, so he comes to lil ol' me for the answers."
"Apologies," the tigerman bit back a growl in an attempt to soften his voice. This merchant had seen and experienced much. He should not fault them for their current attitude considering how they and their slave only barely escaped with their lives. "My response at the time was unbecoming of my position."
"Ya think?"
"However, I ask that you keep in mind the crisis staring down all of us and choose to cooperate," this conversation was proving to be a titanic exercise in patience. "The spiders, after all, will not discriminate when their foul brood breach our perimeters."
"You say that, but what in the eight hells do you want?" The gnoll sprawled themselves out on a bedroll. "My inventory's lying around with the guys from Ur'draga, Yassin and I aren't cut out for fighting, and we're butt tired. What are you looking for?"
"Ghrik'sa had always spoken well of you," Enverak twisted the truth; the deceased warrior had a high opinion of the gnoll merchant's capabilities, not personality. "Therefore, I've chosen to take to heart the words of my comrade and trust you despite any misgivings I may harbor."
"Way to lick my paws…" The gnoll unhappily grumbled. "Well? Out with it. Whad'ya want?"
"The swarm pursuing you, how large was it—?"
"Seriously?" They snorted in disbelief, ignoring his darkening expression. "You could've asked anybody for that."
"I wasn't finished," Enverak's fist lay tightened at his side. Patience. He needed to exert every ounce of that virtue. "Apart from the size, I would ask about the unit composition of it as well."
"Nobody else could give you a half-decent answer?" The gnoll snorted again, but this time with no hint of contempt. "Figures. Can't blame them, right Yassin?"
"It's as you say, Master," their Ga'mal slave readily agreed. "A common person would be hard-pressed to remain calm while being chased."
'This punk…!' Were they keeping the slave around merely to sing their praises?! "And you don't count yourself among these 'common' people, is that correct?"
"You said it, not me," the gnoll shrugged in response.
"Right, right… my question."
"Hah… over ten thousand? Maybe a hundred? We were in a forest, so it's hard to tell, yeah? Doubt they sent everything they had for a town," given the influx of refugees, the Mac'tal probably attacked multiple settlements simultaneously. Enverak grimaced at the implication that most were unlikely to have escaped. "Got your bog-standard Swordstalkers, Weblords, Sanctifiers…"
The gnoll shivered, claws drawing blood from their palms. "Bladereavers."
"Multiple?" A single Bladereaver was a triviality. More was…
Depending on their answer, Enverak was fully prepared to order an immediate evacuation of Ur'lathla.
"Saw one. Might've been more," the gnoll scowled. "Like I said, hard to tell with all the shit going down."
"Of course. You'll have to forgive me for my concern. Judging by what you've seen, the invasion force appears to be rather sturdy."
"You don't look too worried," the gnoll raised a questioning eyebrow. Enverak chuckled; the refugees' pursuers may be an overwhelming enemy from their point of view, but it would take more to topple an established clan like his. "Heard the humans were sending reinforcements. Is that why?"
"That's none of your business," Enverak irately snapped. "Clan Ur and our allies will prove sufficient."
"If you say so," the gnoll suspired and dug around one of their many bags, pulling out a skewer of Nuk meat. "Want one?"
"I'll pass," he coldly declined the offer as he spun on his heels and stepped right out the shelter. "Thank you for cooperating."
'Bladereavers crawling out of the woodworks,' his heart shook with unease. He had seen the towering beings in the past, even participated in slaying a few, though that was always when the Republic had the advantage in terrain, information, and sheer firepower. "Karevi!"
One of the Kshatras assisting the clerics in tending to the displaced persons hurried to his side. "Rajan. You called?"
"Go to our supplymasters and inform them that they ought to be ready in case we need to abandon this city," he ignored the warrior's gaping jaw. "Nothing to fear as of the present, but better prepared than not, yes?"
"Then please excuse me, Rajan!" Enverak nodded in approval while Karevi ran towards the city center. "I ought to gather the elites too…"
He followed behind the Kshatra, pointedly not dwelling on the destitute beastmen surrounding him in masses. They were alive; as long as they had that, then recovery was possible.
There was little else he could do for them with an imminent incursion on his hands.
The thought was of small comfort, sitting bitterly in the back of his throat. Was their fate an omen of what was to come? No, no—he was overthinking things.
They'll be fine. Everything was going to be fine.
"Rajan Ur," an elite from Clan Nakh accosted him. "We have a visitor. From the east, but they claim to have traversed the southern dunes."
'Not a refugee?' Then how would they have come all this way with the perils that stood in their path? " 'Visitor' you say? Not a trade caravan of some sort?"
"Just the one person," the Nakh warrior lazily scratched their face. "Said they got lucky and only ran into a few Mac'tal."
'Well, that's not suspicious.'
"I see. Would you show me where they're being kept?" He had a niggling hunch that this demanded priority above reorganizing the rearguard forces. 'How could they've only run into a few?'
The lionman said something to their partner before respectfully beckoning him to follow. There were a number of outposts scattered throughout the less-populated eastern districts of Ur'lathla. In ordinary times, around half of these outposts remained unmanned, with the other half was stationed with a few rangers each to deal with magical beasts and other unwanted interlopers.
Thus, a person could say they were military installations belonging to Clan Ur. If a Kshatra of Clan Nakh knew of this traveler before even him, then it meant one of their kin had decided it was within their rights to bring a completely unknown element into his domain, among his warriors and people. 'Rajan Nakh, does your arrogance have no limits?'
"Right up there," the lionman pointed at a camouflaged watchhouse in the trees. Its concealment was such that it would be easy to mistake it for a natural part of the woodlands. "I apologize, but I must return to my post now, Rajan."
Enverak ignored the Nakh and skillfully scaled the tree, entering the hideout to be greeted with the sight of three other Nakh Kshatra's and…
Every strand of his fur stood up in alert, his muscles tensing, ready to run at a moment's notice.
'Incredible,' was the only word he could conjure before the magnificent Tiger Zoastia. Was their prismatic fur some sign of a greater legacy? A cultural denotation of their prestige? Whatever the case, Enverak instinctively understood that this was not a visitor to be trifled with. "Greetings. I heard we have a guest…?"
Small wonder the Nakh Kshatra's were so still and silent. He felt stifled, almost, at the vastness exuding from the beastman monk's relaxed posture.
"Sabea Mulawin," the tigerman stood up and extended their hand. He took it, noting how firm their grip was, and shook. Judging by their name, were they an outlier from the Rujindira or perhaps further east? "You're the lord in charge of these lands, I presume?"
"It's as you say, Mulawin—"
"Sabea, please," they firmly interrupted. Enverak wouldn't have tolerated such disrespect from even his fellow Rajans, but the aura surrounding this beastman made him accept it without question. "I am staying thanks to your generosity after all."
"Sabea then," he released his grip, arm falling limply to his side. "Forgive my rudeness for not welcoming you sooner. Though it's no excuse, present affairs have been consuming much of my attention as of late."
"There's nothing to forgive!" Sabea boisterously declared while patting him on the shoulder. "You do your people a service, Rajan. Let there be none who fault you for your deeds."
'Perhaps this is how his entire community behaves?' Acting so familiarly with someone they met seconds ago was definitely suspect; although, there were many kinds of races and cultures in this world. "Thank you for the praise, but let us speak in a more suitable location. It would not do to host a guest in a middling tree."
He nodded to the Nakh warriors and leapt to the ground, Sabea smoothly copying his movements.
"Those Mac'tal the lionmen mentioned," around them, the residents of the city gawked at the resplendent beastman. "Are they a new foe?"
"No," Enverak slowed his pace, allowing them to walk side by side. "We've been keeping them suppressed ever since the early days of the Republic's conception, but due to recent… losses, they appear to be taking advantage of our temporary weakness."
"Why is that? I've heard there was an issue with a kingdom to the east, although I hope you can forgive my ignorance if I'm incorrect."
"You speak correctly," Enverak confirmed the gossip they must have heard through the less disciplined among the rangers. "The Republic had been eyeing the Draconic Kingdom for some decades now, but only recently made any serious moves towards conquering it."
"Did you all have plans after achieving that goal?"
"We're aware of the Undead plains that extends west of the humans. It's another sign that the humans cannot be left to their own devices, no?" Allowing negative energy miasma to spread so far could only be the work of fools. "Before our leadership was brought low by the treachery of the humans' queen and their 'Goddess,' we had more than sufficient manpower to purify the plains within the century."
"Impressive," Sabea nodded along. "Your homeland rivals some of the larger countries I've encountered in my pilgrimages. Although, if I may ask, wouldn't bringing the Draconic Kingdom to heel create enemies out of the western humans?"
"A worthless, divided rabble," Enverak huffed disdainfully. "If these humans could not unite even while their buffer state was on the verge of collapsing, then what hope did they have against a full onslaught? The most we ever saw from their neighbors were a few groups of paladins and spellcasters—nothing indicative of a force to be feared."
"I find that hard to believe," their skepticism was expected. Who would believe that the humans were incapable of unifying against an invader threatening to subjugate them to the last? "How could a conquest take so long if their resistance was as weak as you say? Surely a country known as the 'Draconic Kingdom' would be home to a certain class of existences. I would've thought it to be the domain of a Dragon Lord."
"Decades ago, yes," Enverak shivered with the memory of how Brightness Dragon Lord once bordered the Republic. The primordial dragon's presence was the reason the Council during that generation scrapped all plans of conquest; as a result, it took years for them to rally the clans for operations larger than miniscule raids. "Now? If there exists a dragon in that kingdom, they must be cursing their weakness with every speck of their being. What kind of dragon is incapable of defending its own domain from so-called 'lesser beings?' "
"Is that so…" Sabea fell into a deep contemplation. "Ah. I'm afraid I've been rather intrusive. In return for your good-faith, are there any questions you'd like to ask of me?"
"Not much, but thank you," Enverak paused and rethought. "Actually, since you hail from the east, what news have you come across? Foreign merchants and bards haven't been in great supply due to our troubles."
"The eastern countries have heard rumors of the foe you face," were they referring to the Ruk Kingdom and other petty states in and beyond the Rujindira Desert?
'Very vague,' Enverak frowned to himself. This Sabea was shaping up to be an untrustworthy figure. Could news of the developments within the Draconic Kingdom and Vahasi Republic have really spread so quickly? Even the Ruk Kingdom and Commonwealth had yet to respond…Then again, expecting the newcomer to be forthcoming with every bit of minutiae was unrealistic.
"Vilimandrati, Asterion…" Sabea continued, unaware of his wariness. "Even the central powers know of this region's plight."
Of course, there was no chance those polities would grant them any succor. Exchanging blows with the 'Goddess' would be an exercise in futility.
"And you took it upon yourself to investigate?" Enverak didn't bother asking who sent them. If they were here to conduct intelligence, he wasn't going to get a straight answer anyway. "Brave of you to do so, when these 'superpowers' have yet to make contact with us ever since the beginning of our troubles."
"I'm sure their agents are collecting information as we speak," Sabea diplomatically stated, not knowing how the reassurance only made the situation all the more laughable. It appeared they weren't the type that was skilled in intrigue. "I myself am not here for anybody's sake save my own. It might be foolish of me, but the existence of this angel sparked my curiosity."
Enverak found himself relaxing. This visitor needn't be feared if they were this open with their intentions. Furthermore, he couldn't detect any trace of falsehood from their visage or voice alike, though which in itself was not a surefire assurance, but combined with everything else was enough evidence for him. "Well, I'm afraid there's nothing to find here. Unless you want to wait for the humans and angels to arrive within the next couple of weeks; though I personally suggest you take this chance to leave. They are not an adversary to be treated lightly even with your outstanding strength."
"I am quite strong, I'll have you know," and so he did. In his Rajan, the Viziers, the traitorous High Vizier—he too had, and lost, faith in those people.
"You may be strong, but the humans' Goddess is beyond strength," Enverak viciously snarled to himself, unaware of how Sabea was looking down on him with cold eyes. "She is a cruel, hateful being, and you would do yourself a service to stay as far away as you can from her sight."
"I've seen and heard of many described in a similar fashion. All have fallen short."
"Her skin cuts swords, her every word a portent of calamity," he grimly repeated the whispered warnings that had spread like a plague throughout the entire Republic. "A monster to whom strife is an exquisite delicacy, carnage the sweetest of morsels, and whose soul holds no respect for the dead. Your past experiences will not prepare you."
"Then I'll keep your words in mind, Rajan—"
"Enverak," the tigerman lord patted the foreigner's shoulder. His action drew many a jealous eye from men and women both. He hoped it wouldn't cause a traffic issue later—station guards outside Sabea's room perhaps… "It's embarrassing to hear somebody like you refer to me so respectfully."
"As you wish," they stopped at the outer bounds of Clan Ur's central clanhold, a pair of his Kshatra's running over to receive them. "A magnificent edifice."
"Mm, there are more impressive works of architecture closer to the capital. Anyway, we aren't able to accommodate you to our usual standards, but feel free to stay for as long as you wish, Sabea."
Their presence would be helpful on the frontlines, but it felt wrong somehow to pressure them into fighting for people not their own. Besides, it didn't matter when the conflict was already being controlled by the Dragon Queen and angel.
"Your hospitality is welcomed," the mysterious monk dipped their head in gratitude. "I dare not complain, Enverak."
"Haha! Well, for the second time, I suggest that you continue traveling west, though it might be safer to wait until the Mac'tal are driven off. I fear the small detachment you've slain is different from the approaching swarm," he turned his attention to the two warriors. "Watch over our guest and ensure that nobody bothers him without his explicit permission, understood?"
"Hm, I'm grateful for your concern," his fellow tigerman looked supremely unbothered in spite of his warning. "If there's anything I can do to be of assistance, please feel free to ask."
"Hopefully it won't come to that," their strength would help, but asking a guest to fight on his behalf was beyond shameless. Enverak chuckled, waving farewell to the monk and leaving his warriors to lead them to their quarters. "I'll keep your offer in mind, Sabea. May the gods see you in good health."
Must he be reminded again of how useless this country turned out?
'Inferior existences who can barely make use of the soul they were given,' Isoleiryx's gaze was that of a person looking at trash. 'To use as kindling and for meaningless trifles is their limit.'
How he scorned them! Small-minded beings who couldn't see beyond their own fleeting lifespans! He could thrust truth in all its terrible implications into their faces, and they would still content themselves with mediocrity—selfishness.
To think of him as kin just because he shaped his appearance to match theirs was laughable for they could not be anymore different. Hearing them blab on about dragons and whatnot had been amusing as well—in the same way watching the witless commit mistake after mistake was.
'Unfortunate how I'm forced to remain in this state,' Isoleiryx smoothed out a patch of his fur. In spite of taking the form of a Tiger Zoastia, his appearance stood out; an acceptable compromise if it meant preventing the Player and their summons from seeing through his 'disguise.'
The downside of this transformation was that the changes went 'deeper.' An ordinary disguise would retain the usual parameters of his body, but his current form forced his existence to… align closer to a Tiger Zoastia's.
Anything less could not spoof the senses of his kind, and after what he saw with Vaision, the holders of World Items as well. Tolerating a temporary bodily weakness was tolerable; he was still stronger than the majority of beings in this realm.
"Here's your room, Lord Mulawin."
"My thanks."
That didn't mean there did not exist people who might contest his limited strength, though that category was mostly filled with Dragon Lords, spawns of filth, and notable magical beasts.
In this surrounding region there existed none of the latter two and only two of the former aside from his 'great-granddaughter,' both tainted existences born after the Greed Kings, and neither capable of opposing him in body or soul. 'Urnsithilix and Kilik'thun—should I deal with them before proceeding further?'
One an Ancient Black Dragon hailing from the hellish swamps of Lesser Dragonspine's northern ranges, and the other a Dragon Turtle from the oceans far beyond the continent who established a lair in the Rafalin Sea south of the Asturian Sound.
"If there's anything you need, please inform us. In the meanwhile, we'll stand guard outside your room, but feel free to leave and wander around."
"I shall keep that in mind."
Urnsithilix knew better than to intrude upon his affairs, and Kilik'thun had learned her lesson centuries ago. Interference from either was improbable. 'Vaision however…'
Despite the meddler's attempts to conceal their interference, Isoleiryx was aware that they met the Player in the Azerlisia Mountains only minutes after his probe was destroyed. He doubted Vaision sensed him with the array of cloaking spells he'd applied to himself at the time, but that was no excuse to lower his guard. 'I couldn't make out what they were saying without exposing myself… but there was no trace of violent conflict.'
Did that mean Vaision believed himself inferior to the Player? Or more likely, did they think the filth an entity deserving of trust?
This distinction was important because it determined the extent of how much he could safely interfere with the Republic's, and by extension, the Player's, affairs. But even assuming Vaision was intent on repeating his mistakes again, the havoc that was war still allowed for many options.
'As expected, should I just kill him?' Isoleiryx mused on the Rajan of the city. Eliminating the lords of this region would easily ensure a chaos that would further distract the Player and spread out their summons. And if he could further agitate the Mac'tal, then driving them to devote a greater portion of their mana pool to resurrections instead of creating summons wasn't out of the question either. 'His death would destabilize this entire city even if there's still a few other lords present. Pointing the malcontents at the Player is another option—wouldn't a mere fraction of a fraction of her summons slaughter them with ease in that case?'
Normally, it would be odd to think that weakening the Vahasi Republic in such a manner could possibly harm the Player. They were, after all, the one responsible for the Draconic Kingdom's victory over said demihuman country.
But because that failed specimen of his and the filth had refrained from ravaging the Republic to the ground, it was possible that they were less shortsighted than what he had initially forecasted. Rather than loot the beastmen for short-term gain and cause the Draconic Kingdom trouble down the line in the form of the Mac'tal, they would do something like create a dependency on the kingdom and gradually drain the beastmen's strength while using them to hold off any external threats…
Isoleiryx frowned. As much as he hated to admit it, the idea wasn't without its merits.
'Ironically, it is because the idea has value that it becomes an opportunity to split the Player's strength. By dragging on the conflict, I can split their attention for longer and better cripple their reserves.'
Besides just encouraging them to spend extra mana on resurrections, a more chaotic battlefront would require more angels for the sole purpose of this conflict against the Mac'tal.
He would normally take his time, commit to long-term roundabout schemes, but this Player wasn't an enemy he could afford to dawdle with when every day meant they accumulated a larger horde of summons. "I'll go with that then. Now, to observe."
He retrieved the Orb of Seeking floating in the depths of his Bag of Holding and channeled it to view the specimen he had taken to watching whenever it was possible. 'Hm? That expression and position…'
If the orb hadn't been magical, it would've been grinded into fine powder by Isoleiryx's grip.
'In such an important time, they choose to do this?' The Dragon Lord scowled at the image of his foolish descendent and the Player squirming, entangled… Tch. "Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting—"
"Lord Mulawin?" That Lion Zoastia from earlier peeked inside the room he was staying. "Rajan Nakh had me bring some food, but I can return later if you're occupied—"
"It's not a problem," he gestured for them to come closer. The lionwoman shyly approached, tail wagging in anticipation—a lowly, base animal enslaved to their desires. One glance from an individual of middling might and every scrap of reason went out the window. "Now that I'm getting a closer look, you're quite the beauty, aren't you?"
Isoleiryx barely kept himself from wrinkling his nose in repugnance as the demihuman meekly sat upon the bed, filled with anticipation. Although, despite their inherently corrupted nature…
He supposed he could use them to blow off a little stress.
