Chapter 85: um… im… sorry to hear that
Lower Fire Month, 21st Day, 600 AGG
Urnsithilix was bored. A little nervous, but she would never ever admit that to anybody. Even herself.
So, she was bored. Only bored and nothing else.
"Istili!" She lightly flicked the limp Yuan-ti abomination out of the vernal pool she was lounging in. "Would you kindly give me a report on your progress, please?"
The serpentine malison she had placed in charge of reproducing the Republic's techniques for processing Mac'tal respectfully raised a murky, purple crystal. "My Lady, we've succeeded in deriving a preprocessing method, but the purity isn't quite…"
Istili's voice trailed off, arms trembling in fear. Urnsithilix ignored his unsightly appearance and gingerly plucked the crystal in between two curved claws. "Hmm! This isn't bad at all. Well done, Istili!"
"This one is grateful for his Lady's praise—" Blah blah blah; the Dragon Lord ignored the malison's relieved ramblings and channeled the latent abilities of the magic item. 'This is unpleasant.'
With a sufficient quantity and-slash-or quality of the item, she was confident it could serve as a replacement for『Over Magic』and『Boosted Magic』. 'Ritual magic isn't impossible… but not with something so low quality.'
Urnsithilix dispassionately watched the crystal crumble away in her claws, and continued ignoring the now-panicking malison. The side-effect was reminiscent of the herbal arrangements—drugs, whatever—and seemed to worsen with every use. Not that the downside mattered; curing addictions and internal poisoning weren't earth-shattering feats.
Though she may have to breed a new batch of servants specialized in joint alchemy and item creation. The current generation lacked the specialties to improve on their flawed design.
"My Lady!" A scaled ranger panted for breath as they came to a stop. "A-Above! We tried to shoot them down, but—"
Further explanation wasn't required. She was in possession of two perfectly fine eyes, after all.
Foul, miasma-laden winds blew across her lair's surface with the feather-winged trio's sudden descent. The smaller one in the middle briefly consulted a map, glanced up at her, and put the chart away into some peculiar purple pocket portal.
"Hm. This should be the spot?"
That regalia… those magic items… each piece rivaled the legendary 'Ratnas' jealously guarded by the few nations fortunate to possess one.
This angel had an entire ensemble. A full set of items that reeked of the highest-grade enchantments, items that could elevate heroes to outliers and petty kingdoms to grand empires.
And then there were the interlopers themselves…
Urnsithilix suppressed an involuntary shudder. If she hadn't exercised caution and got carried away inspecting the priceless treasures adorning the angel's form, then her life would've been immediately forfeit.
'She doesn't need items. Not for this. Not for me.'
"Your Excellency," Urnsithilix swallowed her pride and lowered her snout so low that it touched the swampwater. This situation didn't allow for grandstanding if she valued her life—or so 'that person' warned. In the background, a few of the more intelligent demihumans directed their gaze to the ground and discretely mutilated their hearing organs. "I beg you to excuse the lacking accommodations. It was my failure to not anticipate your arrival at this auspicious hour."
"… I didn't run into any trouble getting here. Thanks for that, I guess," the six-winged monster and her summons didn't take any stance, relaxed as can be, but Urnsithilix understood the line she was treading could instantly snap without warning. "So. You're Ān… Ānshishi—you're the dragon that attacked the beastmen."
The cute attempt at intimidation caused her instincts to scream louder. When was the last time she brushed so closely with death? A century ago? Her very mind was being thrown into turmoil by their oppressive aura.
"Your Excellency speaks correctly—surely truth in its countless forms is made known to you."
"What?" Their face twisted, as if unsure of what expression to make, and settled on a scowl. "No, forget that. You should know why I'm here, right?"
"This pathetic worm begs Your Excellency to show mercy! After seeing the plight of the Mac'tal, this worm couldn't hold herself back from aiding them and failed to comprehend Heaven and Earth!"
"P-Pathetic is a little…"
"Then, please understand this trash's plea! Despite being trash, this worm also had people precious to her," not an inch of hesitation was found in the ridiculous falsehood. "Her home, children, and loved ones faced circumstances similar to the spiders' ! This worm shamefully admits her weakness in failing to unchain herself from the past!"
"Okay, okay!" The angel frantically waved her hands. It was absurd how quickly her anger turned into pity. "I… I didn't know you had to go through that stuff."
Urnsithilix wordlessly nodded, subtly rounding her shoulders to appear more p-pitiful.
Wings twitched and dainty fingers ran through golden hair as the angel sighed, breaking the silence. "Look, I get where you're coming from, I really, really do, but I can't just ignore it, y'know?"
The angel sighed again, harder. "Here, how about this: just stay out of the Beastman Country, and we won't have any problems. Okay?"
"Your Excellency's worthless servant—no, footstool—is undeserving of your grace!"
"Yeah, yeah… just remember, alright? I'll stop bothering you guys now," the two lion-headed angels standing beside their master smoothly ascended alongside them. "Remember. I'm serious. A-And, it sounds a little weird, but try to tell the Mac'tal to stop too, maybe. Fighting all the time—it'll be better to stop."
'A trifle. They're bound to my will now anyway.'
"This trash worm will grind her bones to dust in order to see Your Excellency's will done!"
"Erm, worms don't have bones, but I'm uh, glad to hear it," they paused, ascent halted for a split second. The angel looked down at her with disgustingly 'understanding' eyes, sickeningly soft words spilling out that mocking mouth. "Sorry you had to go through that stuff, and… take care. Bye."
The wiser vassals who had turned their sight elsewhere and blocked their hearing cautiously lowered their arms, heads raised to gaze upon her.
"Who was watching or listening? Stand to this side."
"Y-Yes, my Lady!"
Urnsithilix promptly coated the impudent fools in acid, granting them a very quick and very, very painful death.
"『Mass Cure Light Wounds』. Taloshi," all traces of light-heartedness were drained out of Mirewood Dragon Lord's voice. Sisava was presently outside of Mirewood, so she had to settle for less. "An estimation of her strength."
"M-My Lady, this lowly servant apologizes for his incompetence—a-argkh!" The ranger collapsed in the shallows of the brackish water, writhing and screaming in agonizing pain as specks of acid ate through his skin.
"Yvil. Surely you can answer me?"
"The interloper was too profound for me to fathom, my Lady. At the very least, she shouldn't fall short of my Lady. This worthless servant offers her sincerest apologies," in the absence of solid ground, Yvil repeatedly beat herself on the head.
"You are forgiven," their evaluation wasn't outside Urnsithilix's own, but she magnanimously dismissed the demihuman anyway. "Oh! And take Taloshi to the pit masters on your way out, would you?"
"As my Lady commands."
Blood trickled down Yvil's head as she sneered at her trembling peer in equal parts disgust and delight before tossing them over her shoulders. Discipline was a strange quality, and Urnsithilix mused if senseless torture helped in cultivating the trait.
'Well, it does keep the pit masters happy. Cute little things.'
"The rest of you carry on," she slowly sank into the murky waters of Mirewood. "Do tell me if that woman decides to make another surprise visit, hm?"
If she had to interact with anyone else any longer, the Dragon Lord really believed she wouldn't have a functioning domain before day's end. That the diplomatic interaction with the angel went 'well' couldn't calm her.
Her, an apex of creation being forced to submit, to bow—!
'Voravivex Raktar, Isyrkaslyz Vaern'ash…' Her smile became brittle. The subjects who had managed to survive the longest under Mirewood Dragon Lord's rule began to shiver out of fear for their lives even though she was fully submerged in the gloomy depths. 'Yes—yes, exactly like those unreasonable bastards!'
Truthfully speaking, Urnsithilix had not lied about everything while talking to the angel. Falsehoods became believable when they were weaved inseparable from truth, and that was a skill she had developed throughout her long, long life.
She had lost children to a violent cause: true. She also could not bring herself to care less.
She had lost consorts to the same violent cause: true. Again, she didn't think much of it.
She had been chased away from her old home… true. Forced to flee like, like a bunnia being played with by a bored hunter.
That last injustice well and truly infuriated Urnsithilix to this very second. It was a hateful reminder of the prime, immutable laws of this world.
For the strong, everything. For the weak, even that which they had would be contemptuously ripped away from them.
And the fact that she, the Terror of Beresad, Riftlock's Breaker, Slayer of Scalebane Immortals, was forced to flee and admit she too existed among the weak—unbearable. Absolutely, absolutely unbearable—
Acid flooded out her maw and dispersed outwards underwater, killing the few nearby creatures that somehow survived the first blast. Urnsithilix fumed until she managed to wrangle 'blinding hatred' down to 'simmering outrage.'
The humiliations she'd suffered, they would not be forgotten. Each one she'll repay sevenfold.
'That person' promised, and while she was hardly the type to trust in ephemeral words, the future they described was…
Irresistible.
They hadn't even asked her to strain herself: reminding a few demihumans of their proper status felt like a pleasure outing more than anything.
Urnsithilix had been wary of the arrogant angel, but their disposition was also surprisingly predicted by 'that person.' Truly, they must originate from a profound background!
Yes, all she desired would fall in place as long as she listened to their suggestions. Trivial.
'I'll have to replace the fish here,' Urnsithilix mourned. Even dragons occasionally fell victim to short-sighted anger as well. 'After I send a quick『Message』.'
She wondered if she should start scheming how to backstab them.
"Somebody's looking grumpy today! Did Tsa dump something troublesome on you again?" Rathiel ignored the attempt at persiflage and glared at the elderly human woman in his way. She was a nuisance on great days and an unbearable tormenting spirit on good ones.
Rigrit's cloak swished as she passed by with a laugh. "Well, don't hit your head on the way in! Kakaka!"
He scowled at her back as she walked down the colonnaded gallery, white braid swaying hither and thither. The ring entrusted to the neuromancer was nowhere to be seen, a severe breach of trust Tsaindorcus infuriatingly saw fit to forgive.
'Giving her access to this location was a mistake,' his friend had a tendency to surround himself with odd personalities: a tendency that was there since birth, and only grew worse with each succeeding Aftershock. "I will keep that in mind, Lady Caurau."
"You go and do that," Rigrit nonchalantly raised a hand in farewell without sparing a glance. "I've got the feeling we'll run into each other pretty soon, so try to cheer up by then, alright?"
The Gold Dragon Lord, Rathiel Beletai, shut the door behind him a little harder than necessary. It was an impressively large chamber even by the standards of this city: Ascali'tyn'malith Ovyuret. Had to be, since it was built as a meeting room for dragon-sized individuals.
They could certainly change shape into smaller species, but unnecessarily remaining in foreign forms while talking to boon companions was suffocating and displeasing. With this in mind, he quickly undid his aarakocra appearance, revealing a titanic auric-scaled dragon nearly equal in size to the other occupant of the room.
"Rathiel," Tsaindorcus Vaision warmly greeted him. A bit tiredly, but both of them had long since tacitly accepted constant fatigue as the norm. Global affairs were especially tense during the turn of centuries anyway. "Are you well, friend?"
"As well as can be," losing a limb didn't mean much when healing magic existed. "Vaern'ash let me off easy just this once."
Considering he encountered the Inferno Dragon Lord, he was thankful that only his body had been injured. With Rathiel's skill in essence manipulation, evading the Lord of Blazespire wasn't impossible, but letting them inflict damage was the 'respectful' course of action. To put it briefly, they were an outrageously arrogant existence.
"I apologize," Tsaindorcus regretfully closed his eyes. "It's my fault for not confirming his absence. I didn't think the Sword Saint would outright lie…"
Rathiel did. Of the other five dragons who called each other allies in the past, none held a favorable opinion of Platinum Dragon Lord. "Doesn't matter. What's done is done, and now we know better.
"Here's what I could gather," he constructed a booklet out of essence imbued with the relevant information he had managed to collect before Vaern'ash apprehended him. "Nothing we were looking for."
"As expected," Tsaindorcus's eyes rapidly scanned the floating booklet's content, each page flipping itself upon being fully read. "The forest was left untouched too."
"The Devagathapur?"
"That place, yes. It hasn't stirred, and ■■ doesn't have the expertise to meddle without tripping its senses."
His friend helplessly shook their head. "Either way, she doesn't possess a 'key.' In fact, it's accurate to say nobody does."
"She could make a 'battering ram,' " the location wouldn't matter, but the aftermath would make her efforts meaningless. "Although, Heavenly Dragon Lord would undoubtedly intervene at that stage."
"He's unconcerned. By unconcerned, I mean his present duties take priority."
Sensible. Heavenly Dragon Lord diverting his attention was a no-win situation.
Rathiel decided to switch topics; this one wasn't to be solved in the near future. "I've read your reports on the west."
"Hm?"
"The Player," he paused, short enough to nearly go unnoticed. "I still believe we should support Brightness Dragon Lord."
"I see."
"You're giving them too many chances," Rathiel narrowed his eyes. Ever since the advent of the 'Demon Gods,' an aura of reluctance and guilt surrounded Tsaindorcus whenever a difficult decision had to be made. "What Rhell said about them accumulating summons makes sense. Refusing to admit this won't lead to a stable outcome."
Tsaindorcus rumbled, a non-threatening but soul-shaking sound nonetheless. "When given the option to pursue greater heights of power, is it correct to forsake that in order to serve one's lessers?"
"Depends."
"Yes," Platinum Dragon Lord slowly nodded. "It would depend. Then, which person would you trust more?"
"The former because they're predictable. Tsaindorcus. Do not presume you understand the whole of their character from a single conversation."
"People aren't so simple," his friend readily agreed. "Environment, birth, countless factors outside our control end up producing increasingly complex motivations. That being said, shouldn't we be decent judges of character at our age? She—"
They seemed to trip over their words for a brief moment, as if one thought had been quickly substituted for another. "She is not a person consumed by the many possibilities her strength affords her."
'Not very reassuring. We aren't getting anywhere with this either…'
"Rhell disagrees, and he too, is a 'decent judge of character,' " Truly, a scholarly Dragon Lord blessed with everything but a functioning set of morals. "What causes his conclusion to diverge from yours?"
"He cannot overlook her proximity to his most significant descendent," melancholy flashed across Platinum Dragon Lord's expression, vanishing with equal celerity. "An opportunity too sweet to surrender."
"If Rhell's experiment is so important, then isn't it strange we haven't seen our old colleagues moving around?"
Rathiel knew the answer before his friend even voiced their answer. Some issues were just good to periodically confirm.
"Colleagues… they would be happy to watch Rhell from afar and gather information. In the first place, it's difficult to call them 'colleagues.' Personality issues, conflict of interests… indeed, none of them worked well together and disliked sharing—" Tsaindorcus immediately went silent.
"Except those two, correct?"
"It was a singular occurrence. Deep Darkness Dragon Lord could not have possibly known. He knows where the line is drawn."
"Malvar clearly didn't," the only reason Rathiel refrained from spitting on the ground was that he would have to clean it up later. "That he wasn't directly taught means nothing."
"… At the time he probably thought the transmutation of the 'self' was the best option he had. Don't speak too ill of the dead."
'You were the one to put an end to his path though,' a decision Rathiel whole-heartedly agreed with. For a Dragon Lord that received the favor of the World, and then spit on it by violating their soul so thoroughly, such an action could only be punished by death. Especially considering the state of the World since five centuries ago. 'But—'
That by itself would not have persuaded Platinum Dragon Lord, the Arbiter, to kill Malvar. "You know I wasn't referring to that."
"…" No reply was forthcoming. Rathiel sighed; really, there hadn't been a point in him being so pushy.
"My apologies. I shouldn't have brought it up."
"Ah… it's nothing you should apologize for. In the end, Malvar made his decisions, and has received the due consequences regardless of whatever good intentions he began with."
"Mm. What a fine mess we're in."
The Six Dragon Lord Alliance broke apart before garnering any noteworthy accomplishments. It was such a colossal failure that some of the members ended up becoming bigger problems than the ones they had joined to tackle.
Lower beings were weaker than in the past thanks to the chaotic instability outsiders introduced. The central superpowers of the continent and a number of submerged empires were an exception, but even they had degraded in certain aspects.
The woman who shut herself off from the world wasn't worth mentioning. His friend might be confident in his chances of waking her, but Rathiel personally believed this reality was no longer home to anything that could move her heart.
"What about your mother?" Rathiel risked asking the question. He had held back from mentioning the Empress, even during the turbulent era two-hundred years ago, but now that the situation was devolving into this… "If you explained our circumstances to her, she won't stay still—"
"She is not in a state to intervene."
"What?" Actually, why hadn't she moved during the Greed Kings' rampage? Back then, they were consumed with existential worries, so there was naturally no opportunity to ruminate on the topic. 'It's strange. It's unsettling. Now that I'm thinking about her, it's inconceivable that she wouldn't have intervened. Unless she had no idea they could warp the World so drastically… is that kind of ignorance possible after experiencing the Emperor's handiwork?'
"She's dead?" An incredibly insensitive query slipped—not slipped, that would imply he didn't mean to be heard—out Rathiel's mouth.
"Our responsibility would be significantly lighter if that was true," Tsaindorcus's voice took on a distant tone. " 'Dead…' It can't be described in straightforward terms."
Platinum Dragon Lord didn't elaborate.
That—yes, that explained her non-interference. The timing was confusing to begin with: Tsaindorcus's father conducted a grand ritual, then his mother… simultaneously? Her champions might know, but Rathiel was doubtful; nobody knew what order the rituals had been performed in, and it didn't matter at this point.
'So what's the Empress's faction doing?' Were they really so unoccupied? Serving somebody who could not respond to their loyalty, who probably
'Oh.'
In that case, ■■ was most likely working to complete a 'key,' and because brute force was not an option if they valued survival, that significantly narrowed down the possible locations.
As if he had read his thoughts, Tsaindorcus reassuringly spoke: "Vaern'ash is unaffiliated. He really is just that territorial, so don't overthink it."
"An incredible coincidence."
"Perhaps he's aware and was wary you'd tip the wrong people off," the chamber echoed with the tapping of claw against marble. "I'll follow up on this—keep an eye on the Council State while I'm gone. New developments have been noted in the usual location, but other than the explicitly written guidelines, feel free to act as you see fit."
'It would be great if our peers chose to cooperate,' Rathiel bitterly smiled.
All ancient beings, with precious few exceptions, despised his friend's bloodline the most. They didn't even have to know the full details, but the slivers they were aware of condemned the bloodlines of the Dragon Emperor and Empress far past the threshold of redemption.
Were it not for him, Platinum Dragon Lord would be forced to bear everything alone. Lower beings could never understand the burden his friend had taken up. Immortal, long-lived… their lifespan made no difference. The fundamental disparity between their souls was impossible to bridge.
For that exact reason, Rathiel desperately hoped his friend wouldn't continue—over and over and over and over again—to choose the path filled with the most hardships. He prayed, uncaring of how unseemly it was, that Tsaindorcus Vaision could see reason and at least maintain neutrality.
"The Player—"
"Leave them be," a statement carrying the slightest hint of harshness interrupted him. "And keep your distance."
If the Gold Dragon Lord could relieve even the smallest fraction of a fraction's burden from Tsaindorcus's shoulders, he would joyously consider it a life well-lived. Such was the extent of his devotion.
But what should he do if listening to a friend meant allowing them to come to harm?
The correct choice eluded him despite his soul accumulating over a millennium's worth of experiences. Acting by himself came with unpredictable repercussions, though the same could be said of ignoring the issue.
'I'll let him decide how to deal with them,' Rathiel hardened his resolve and pushed the matter out of mind. Come fortune or disaster, they'd navigate a course through the problem when the time came. "I understand. Since you won't budge, please keep my words in mind, if nothing else."
Tsaindorcus wouldn't do anything drastic.
"I will."
Right?
