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"Godō" - Regular Speech
'My Everyday life…!' - Thoughts
"God Slayer!" - Heretic God/Powered Up Campione speech
"Fire!" - Magic/Authority Use
Beta'd By BigCC
Chapter 30: Receiver of the Slain
The Next Day
Council Chambers of the Golden Ones, Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia
"My Khan, you should be resting!" Khulan fruitlessly tried to plead with her uncle as she escorted him towards the council chambers.
"Even with the aid of King Campbell's gift I have but days left on this earth, niece. No amount of rest shall change that." Khangal responded, his voice sure and firm despite the audible weakness of it. One of his hands was still clutching said gift, now secured at his waist, with a dead man's grip. "It is my duty and responsibility as the Khan of the Golden Horde to ensure that all matters are set into place in terms of my succession and see to what must occur when my candle burns out. You will understand this duty one day."
The Shamaness bravely did her best to keep her tears from flowing freely once more; aided by the fact that the she had shed so many over the past twelve hours that her very eyes might have been physically unable produce any more. That, plus her desire to spend as many of his final hours beside her beloved uncle, was what had allowed her to pull herself from bed the morning past with the knowledge that his death was looming ever closer.
So, with a firm gaze, the young woman lent her uncle her shoulder as she escorted him to his chair at the head of the table, all under the concerned eyes of the council, before she withdrew to the side of the chamber, ready to assist if requested but not an official part of the proceedings.
"Right, I have not much time left, so we should get through this as quickly as possible." the dying elder mage stated forcibly. "What is the current status of Hadaa and her team?"
"We received a message from Hadaa herself not three hours ago, they have managed to locate the ritual site that the Thuleorden were using. As expected, the entire place was a desecrated bloodbath." Batbayar Altansukh reported gruffly. Within the Golden Ones, he stood as the head and representative of the more martially-inclined Shamans in their ranks and was one of the few men to have earned his place on the Council without a direct blood tie to Genghis Khan. And unlike Hadaa, he wore that accomplishment as a mark of pride rather than as a source of simmering resentment. "Oddly enough, it appears that the Divine Ancestor Guinevere left behind all of the Grimoires that the Sorcerers held in their possession, or at least, all the ones that would be accounted for in the ritual they performed. Hadaa's team has already warded off the site and are working to properly destroy the bodies of all the Sorcerers that were on site before starting preparations for multiple purification rituals to cleanse the site of the taint left by the twisted magic they worked there. They are hopeful that they have arrived swiftly enough that the sorcerous taint left in the site can be removed without leaving any lasting ill effect on the surrounding lands. Though we will need to falsify a small wildfire to fully cleanse the blighted lands in order to give them a chance to fully heal."
"See that it is done and that all care is taken. We cannot rest well until every mote of their thrice-cursed magic is cleansed from our lands." Khangal stated seriously, getting nods of agreement from around the room.
"The fact that these…vermin…were able to hide themselves in our homeland for over sixty years is a black mark against all of the Golden Ones." Chief Archivist Damdinsüren stated with a bitter shake of his head. "But the black mark on my own office is the worst. My Khan, should you wish it, I shall resign from my position immediately without argument as penance for this abysmal failure."
"No, my old friend. The one who ultimately made the decision that caused this was me." Khangal offered the other man a weary shake of his head. "Our Golden Horde has always lacked the sheer numbers needed to monitor all of Mongolia; even the small bits we accomplish now outside of our eyes and ears amongst the various tribes and in all the cities stretches our resources dangerously thin. We were forced to make the best decision that we could given the resources we had available. The Thuleorden merely took advantage of the chaos that followed the end of the war, and the interference caused by those damned Soviets, to slip their way past our guard. There will be no more said about the fault for this incident. Khulan, how fairs the Campione?"
Stepping forward, Khulan offered the entirety of the council a brief curtsey before reporting. "Reporting to the Council, the King of Swords departed in high spirits not long after his own victory, while both the Ruler of the Martial Realm and the Campione of the Raging Tides have both kept to their own suites since the defeat of the summoned Heretic Gods."
"Have we been able to determine just which Heretic Gods each of the Campione faced?" Damdinsüren asked. Such information could be vital in the exchanges that would surely occur between the various mage associations in the aftermath of this unprecedented incident.
"As was correctly speculated by King Campbell before the fact, all three of the Heretic Gods initially summoned by the Sorcerers were of the Norse Pantheon." Khulan answered. "From what the mages monitoring the various battles could divine, Her Eminence Luo Hao fought against Skadi, the Norse Goddess of Winter, Hunting, Mountains, and Skiing; The King of Swords Salvatore Doni engaged with Heimdall, the Norse God of Guardianship, Vigilance, and Light; and King Jean Campbell fought against Freya, Queen of the Vanir and Mistress of Seidhr. Additionally, during the later portion of the battle, the Divine Ancestor Guinevere summoned forth what both King Campione and Freya referred to as a 'False' or 'Shadow' Heretic God using a divine artefact known as the Holy Grail. That False Heretic God in turn proved to be Quirinius, an amalgamative deity formed from the Early Roman God of State and the deification of King Romulus the First of Rome, and proceeded to interfere with the battle between King Campbell and Freya, only to be slain by the two uniting against him, after which the fight between the original two continued. After the battle between King Campbell and Freya ended in the former's victory, however, the Shadow of Steel known as Lancelot du Lac, Guinevere's own personal guardian, was sent in an attempt to assassinate King Campbell while she was still exhausted from her battles with Freya and Quirinius. However, the intervention of our Khan using the Grimoire of the Sky Father was capable of thwarting the attempted attack and, together with King Campbell, were able to force the Shadow of Steel to retreat."
"By all the ancestors…" Batbayar swore under his breath. "Five. Five Heretic Gods were in our country at the same time and we managed to avoid any severe collateral damage that can't be easily repaired or explained away. A few damaged fields and some scarring on a couple of mountainsides are small costs in comparison to what should have occurred in such an event. Tengri must still be smiling down upon us, this will be a tale that will be repeated for ages to come."
"Evidently, this entire mad plot was Guinevere's plan in hopes of slaying King Campbell and stealing an Authority that she claimed from the Heretic Goddess Athena. For what purpose she seeks such a thing, I could not even wager a guess." Khangal offered with a tired sigh. "If there is a single silver lining to be found in this entire incident, it is that it forced the sorcerous scourge that was lurking within our lands to the surface and allowed it to be rapidly cleansed away. That, combined with the Grimoires we have claimed as spoils from the foul ones, and the fact that none of our people or the Campione involved fell in this battle, should make this a victory for us; even if the circumstances around it make it quite the bitter one."
"My Khan, the actions taken by this Divine Ancestor Guinevere are simply beyond the pale." Damdinsüren spoke up next, anger evident in his voice. "Not only did she aid these foul sorcerers in releasing no less than five separate Heretic Gods upon our lands, but she is essentially responsible for your own inevitable death. We must send out word to every other Mage Association in the world; she must be made to pay for these crimes with her life!"
"While she is still being guarded by Lancelot du Lac, a pseudo-Heretic God? Even if the Shadow of Steel is not a true Heretic God, their power is such that I doubt anyone save a Campione would be able to face the two of them united and survive the encounter, let alone emerge victorious from it." the Khan offered a solemn shake of his head. "Doubtless, we must share word of Guinevere's actions to the other Mage Associations to ensure that they may be on guard against her and whatever she plots, but only Godslayers should face those who think themselves able to stand on even ground with the gods. I believe the Eighth Campione herself is quite wroth with Guinevere and her actions at this point; she will certainly not appreciate anyone interfering with her ability to exact her own vengeance against the Divine Ancestor."
A low rumble of agreement came from many of the more wizened members of the council; getting between a Rakshata Raja and their prey was akin to trying to stand between a starving tiger and a feast of freshly slaughtered meat. At best, you would be mauled and trampled over; at worst you would end up as a part of the meal yourself.
"For the moment, we must consider what is to be done about the incredible gap in our surveillance abilities that this entire incident has brought to light. I think none here can disagree that a new means of monitoring our territory is needed if this is the kind of darkness that can brew in the shadows left by our current methods." Khangal continued as the council quieted down once again. "We need to be able to once more cover the mountains where the Thurleorden had managed to hide themselves for so long, as well as all of the other areas within our lands and along our borders that we have been forced to neglect since the fall of the various Rodnoveries of Russia..."
Grimaces abounded throughout the room. The Russian Mage Associations, before the rise of the Soviets at least, had been largely made up of and led by the mage-priests and shamans that followed the old Slavic Gods, the volhvs, and were commonly referred to as 'Rodnoveries' because of that. However, with the fall of Imperial Russia and the rise of the Communist state there, Communist Mage Associations led by more 'modern' mages had quickly risen up to follow their mundane counterparts' example, many seeking to hunt down the old Rodnovaries with a ruthless and cold-blooded zeal. Those few groups that managed to escape those purges were deep in hiding even to this day, long after the last of the Communist Mage Associations were wiped from the earth by a particularly irked Luo Hao after one of its leaders had possessed the sheer mind-boggling stupidity and arrogance to insult her to her face.
Suffice is to say that man hadn't lived long enough to regret his actions.
During the time period between the rise and fall of the Red State Mage Associations, as those Communist Associations had been widely called, the Golden Ones had been forced to focus a lot of their resources on guarding their borders with Russia, considering that the Red State Associations had left them practically unmanned on their own side while they focused on hunting down and destroying any remnants of the volhvs they could find while tracking down and forcefully indoctrinating any magically-gifted child among Russia's populace into their ranks. That had forced the Golden Ones to rush off their feet constantly to keep track of all the undesirables that tried to cross the borders; Free Company Mages, lone sorcerers, and even the occasional Divine Beast.
"I do not know how we can hope to afford such a feat, my Khan." Damdinsüren admitted, his voice and face obviously pained by the admission. "Our numbers are still only just starting to recover after the hard years and our people are currently stretched to their very limits in terms of seeing to our duties; further division in the short term simply isn't possible or practicable, not without driving our people into early graves from exhaustion."
And that was the bitter truth. The years of being forced to nearly single-handedly man one of their largest borders, all while their nation was held under the soviet boot heel, had whittled away at the Golden Ones numbers significantly and they had only recently started to slowly recoup those losses. Combined with the sheer size of their nation which, while not as vast as Russia or China, was still a sprawling expanse of plains, desert, forests, and mountains, made monitoring the whole of it a monstrous drain on the Golden One's resources even when they were at their strongest, and an all-but impossible task in their current state. The only reason that they were even capable of monitoring what they currently did was due to several powerful artefacts that their Association had managed to acquire or construct over the centuries.
"My Khan, King Campbell possess an Authority that allows her to enchant weapons, armour, and accessories with enough magical power that some of her creations could rival the Cuore de Leone and Il Maestro, the swords wielded by the Red Devil and the Fairy Knight respectively." Khulan offered respectfully. "Would it not be possible to request that she use it to craft an item that could aid us in with our current issue?"
"Shamaness Khulan, it would be most improper of us to try ask a favour of the Campione after all that she done to aid us already." Batbayar gently rebuked the younger mage with a shake of his head. "She stepped forward to defend our land and people when she believed that she would be facing three-to-one odds before she was forced to bear the greatest weight of the battle, being forced to do battle with three separate Heretic Gods, even with the arrival of her divine adopted siblings. More than that, she has already provided us with a weapon whose power already matches what you have previously described…no, it is perhaps even greater due to the traces of divinity added into the enchantments…so that our Khan could have a few more days of life. Our shame must know some limit; we have already placed ourself far too deeply into her debt to ask for more."
"But from Her Majesty's perspective, she believes that she is the one to owe us a debt." the youngest person in the room responded with a rebuttal of her own. "She believes that this situation would not have occurred were it not for Guinevere targeting her in order to steal the Authority of Athena she possesses, and thus she believes a part of the blame for it rests on her shoulders. The fact that our Khan is now standing upon death's door because of actions he took to aid and defend her when she was attacked by the False God of Steel Lancelot has only increased that sense of debt. These words are taken directly from her lips as I escorted her back to her hotel after the battle yesterday."
"Hmm…the Eighth Campione is still fairly new to our world and her position in it." Damdinsüren considered aloud. "Most of the Campione, with the exceptions of King Kusanagi, and at times Black Prince Alec, would never dream to consider themselves in a position where they would owe anyone, other than perhaps a fellow Campione, anything. Sufficient time has yet to pass for the position of power she now controls to have gone to her head, especially considering that her personal Mage Association is only three members strong, herself included. This situation…does present some possibilities."
"But what would be the proper path to take?" another Councilman voiced his own question. "Even if she is willing, we would still become a laughing stock among the Mage Associations if we bow our heads to a foreign Campione and beg her to help solve a problem that we cannot handle on our own. At the same time, we need to find a way to increase our surveillance over our country's more isolated areas to prevent even more rot like the Thuleorden from taking root."
"You are correct that we cannot bear the shame of begging Lady Campbell for help." Khangal stated seriously after a moment of quiet consideration. "However, if she were to become aware of the issues that we currently face and offers up a solution of her own free will to appease her own sense of debt, then we would have no choice but to humbly accept such a gift. Only a madman would turn away a gift offered by a Campione, after all."
Letting the room quietly process that statement for a moment, the Khan turned to Khulan again. "Niece, kindly make your way to the Eighth Campione and enquire after her. Yesterday was most likely the most strenuous battle she has undergone since her ascension as a Campione, and it would be in poor taste were we not to look after one who has done so much to aid us."
The Shamaness blinked a bit in surprise at the sudden request, before realization rapidly dawned on her. "As you wish, my Khan." she offered with a quick bow before quickly hurrying out of the room, leaving the councilmen to look towards their leader in concern.
"Khangal, what the hell are we going to do about Hadaa?" one of the elders sitting on the council asked with a tired sigh. "That foolish girl has a chip on her shoulder larger than some of the nearby mountains when it comes to any female that could rival or surpass her in ability. If we allow her to take your seat when you pass, the Golden Ones will not survive another year before she loses control of her mouth and pisses off Her Eminence."
"With luck, she is going to do something stupid within the next few days that will remove that concern from our hands." the dying man let out a dry chuckle. "Hadaa was fool enough to try and plot out an assassination attempt against the two Campione who were supposed to be here, and the way that she reacted, when I not-so-subtly showed that I knew of her plot and intended to intervene if she tried, tells me that she can't put the breaks on whatever scheme she has concocted as long as the duel between the Ruler of the Martial Ream and the Campione of the Raging Tides is still set to occur."
"My Khan, you do know that if you can prove that this plot exists, it would be more than enough to simply clap her in irons and lock her away." Damdinsüren pointed out casually, before shaking his head in disbelief. "Really, after witnessing three of them fight Heretic Gods in person, I doubt anyone else within the Golden Ones would require any hard evidence to step in and stop this foolishness before it can truly begin. We have all now borne witness to why attempting to fight a Rakshasa Raja is simply a sign that one is too stupid to live."
"Too true." Batbayar agreed with an annoyed grunt. "That girl has never allowed herself to see her own faults, she still deludes herself into believing that the only reason her rise through the ranks was so slow was because she lacked the 'proper bloodline.' Hadaa was slow to rise because she is an impatient, reckless little fool who would bristle and growl at even the slightest bit of perceived negative bias being directed her way."
While yes, there was certain amount of favouritism traditionally shown towards those who bore the bloodline of Genghis Khan with the Golden Ones, there was certainly no discrimination against those that lacked it, mostly due to the belief that nearly every person native to Mongolia who had an affinity for magic likely shared some small blood tie with Genghis Khan or one of his subordinates. The Mongol bloodlines were quite widespread, after all, and Genghis Khan had personally gathered up most of those capable of magic into his ranks when he was forging his horde. Hadaa herself was a direct descent from Muqali, one of Genghis Khan's most trusted advisors and generals, who'd had an undefeated record in battle.
Though it was highly doubtful that the man would look all that favourably at his latest descendent and her actions.
"And it is that self-same impatience that we are counting on to be her undoing." Khangal stated, a knowing smile slowly making its way across his weathered lips. "You shall see…"
Later
With Khulan
Private Dining Room, The Blue Sky Hotel and Tower, Ulaanbaatar
Khulan very rarely found it in her to curse her uncle, and that was especially true now with him currently dying from old age and overdrawing his magic and life-force, but on this occasion she was well and truly tempted to do just that.
"I have to say, Junior Sister, that these accommodations are not at all displeasing." Luo Hao, the Ruler of the Martial Realm and the Campione that ruled over China, Eastern Russia, and Mongolia (among several other nations) remarked absently as she ate. "I admit that I normally disdain such modern destinations due to them being rife with the type of fools that would believe that this one's beauty was little more than a flower that they can pluck at their own convenience."
"I can imagine, Elder Sister." the redheaded Campione who had just fought off three Heretic Gods within a matter of hours a day before offered, a slight look of disdain crossing her face. "There was one such would-be Lothario here earlier this week when I first arrived, but I was able to rather firmly dissuade him from attempting anything like that with me more than once, and Khulan here was kind enough to arrange things so that he vacated the hotel the next day, with no traces of injury or memory tracing back to me."
"Oho? That is work well done then." Luo Hao agreed, nodding slightly toward the third occupant of their dinner table. "Your capable service to my Junior Sister is appreciated, Shamaness."
"It…it was but a trifle, You Eminence." Khulan replied with only a slight hesitation. "And the act was for my own piece of mind as much as Lady Campbell's comfort; that particular young man seemed to possess no survival instincts whatsoever and could not seem to comprehend just how dangerous Lady Campbell is. Had I not arranged for his removal, I do not doubt he would have continued to cause issues that could have become…annoying for all involved."
"Aye, that one had all the brains of a particularly small mushroom." Jean shook her head in distaste. "I honestly pity any woman who would fall for that suave front he was trying to put on. I honestly hate having to deal with that type; the smug ones you can at least scare off easily enough, but the stupid ones like that who honestly believe the drivel they're spewing can be so damned stubborn."
"It honestly amazes this one that such men can still exist." the Ruler of the Martial Realm clicked her tongue in mild exasperation. "Certainly, they existed back during the Song Dynasty and it was understandable, but I find it both bemusing and infuriating in equal measure that such fools continue to propagate within this current age. I have never been all that fond of the direction this modern era has taken, but one could at least hope that its progression would have at least removed that particular brand of annoyance."
"I'm afraid it is simply one of the less appealing aspects of human nature." the Scottish Campione commiserated with a sigh, before turning to the Shamaness. "Khulan, I have been meaning to ask but how is your uncle faring?"
"He…he is doing his best to make the most of the hours he has left to see that all his affairs are settled, my lady." Khulan swallowed tightly. "In truth, I cannot even begin to thank you for giving him these extra few days so that he can at least properly say his goodbyes to our people and family."
"The Golden Ones have been most blessed with their Khan these past hundred-odd years." Luo Hao offered, high praise coming from her. The man had willingly sacrificed his life in order to aid her recognized Junior Sister in battle against a dishonourable foe; for that she had decided that the elderly mortal deserved some acknowledgement at least. "In his youth, Khangal earned himself the title of 'Great Knight of the Land Spirits' and proved himself to be one of the fiercest and most capable warrior mages that your people have ever produced since the death of Genghis Khan himself. In the height of his power, his praises were sung quite jubilantly as the Pride of the Golden Horde, and his achievements provided proof for that title. He fought several duels against Great Knights of far greater experience and power and yet emerged victorious time and time again, but his greatest achievement to my own memory is that he once stood in single combat against a Divine Beast and was capable of holding it in place for the better part of a day before this one could arrive to dispatch it. If memory serves me well, the beast was a great wolf, a servant of Saturnus and portent of his own descent not long afterwards."
"Even experienced Great Knights are hesitant to try and fight a Divine Beast, and even then they normally only do so at the head of a team of high-level mages!" the young Shamaness goggled at the oldest female Campione for a moment, having never heard this particular tale before. "You'll have to forgive me, Your Eminence, but I can scarcely believe that he was ever that reckless."
"With the Heavens as my witness, he was." Luo Hao waved off the statement with a smirk. "Your doubts are understandable at least; you have only known him as the aged and wizened man he eventually became, blessed with the wisdom gained from his many battles but burdened by the weight of the same. It is a common folly of the youthful to forget that all of their elders were once just as young and reckless as they are. I remember that particular battle quite well, Khangal was a fine image of a young warrior back then, just entering his prime. Tall with a fighter's physique and possessing all the pride and stubbornness that young men are so prone to develop. He battled that Divine Beast with fire and fury, but he was wise enough not to exhaust himself in battle at least. Divine Beasts do not tire, after all, thus when fighting them one must always conserve their strength. Still, by the time I had arrived he had managed to drive that particular beast into such a fury that it failed to even acknowledge this magnificent one's arrival in its single-minded focus on trying to tear him limb from limb. That allowed me to end that particular battle with but a single blow."
"I know that Saturnus was a deity focused on the harvest and time, but for one of his Divine Beasts to be felled so easily…" Jean blinked in surprise.
"Junior Sister, the fight with Saturnus himself was even less entertaining than dealing with his unshackled pet." the Ruler of the Marital Realm rolled her eyes, scoffing a bit at the memory. "Oh, he was most certainly powerful, his aura was truthfully immense. But beyond an admittedly decent level of skill with his scythe, he proved himself to have no ability to wield that power effectively. It took me but a day of combat to defeat him, and he did not manage to land a single solid blow against this one throughout the confrontation."
"Wow, the Roman equivalent of the Titan-God Cronus turned out to be below average." the redhead grinned in amusement at the thought. "Still, I'm fairly certain that you are the only one among the current Campione that could say such a thing with absolute confidence, Senior Sister. I would have likely found it far more difficult to fight him without full access to my [Master of the Oceans] Authority, meaning I would need to have fought him near a natural source of water."
"You managed yourself well enough against Freya and Quirinius, Lady Jean." Khulan objected.
"Freya let herself get distracted playing around with the Authority she had gained from the Grimoire of Odin Allfather and made a critical mistake that I could take advantage of. I also suspect that she was not even using that particular Authority to its full effect in case such a thing drew Odin's all-seeing eye onto her." the Scottish Campione offered with a shake of her head. "And Freya and I fought alongside each other to quickly deal with Quirinius. I really do need to acquire more personal combat Authorities that are not so reliant on water; being dependent on a single terrain feature to use some of my best combat Authorities is a very limiting weakness."
"I must admit that I have rarely seen an Authority that places such strict limitations on where it can be activated as opposed to how, or even when." the older Campione offered, tilting her head slightly in thought. "Then again, from all that I have heard of it; it seems that the flexibility and power that it offers when those prerequisites are met is quite impressive in their own right. A worthy trade in my opinion, but I can see how it would be constraining."
"And Mongolia is not a land particularly well known for its rivers, at least not near its mountains." Jean offered wryly. "When I chose this place as the location for our duel, I increased my training with my [Tríaina] Authority to compensate for that, and that proved to be a great boon in all three of the battles that I fought yesterday. Without that extra skill I do not doubt that Freya, Quirinus, and especially Lancelot, would have been enough to overwhelm me before Khan Khangal could offer his most welcome and timely interference."
"Thank you for your kind words, Your Majesty. As to your original question, my grandfather is working to see to two…issues that are likely to become far worse once he departs this world. The first is how…unsuitable…the one currently earmarked to succeed him, Hadaa, is for the position; the other is figuring out some way to increase our monitoring abilities in order to prevent another threat like the Thuleorden from sinking their fangs into our nation without our knowledge." Khulan offered, bowing her head slightly. "The latter problem is proving far more problematic, as our available resources, both in terms of magic and personnel, are already being stretched to their limits by our current operations. The need to make such changes is obvious, but we lack the ability to do so, and thus the council is well and truly stumped in how to resolve the matter."
"Are the Russian Mage Associations of no help in keeping an eye on the borders? I'd have thought that, with the fall of Communist Russia, they'd be more inclined to offer aid then trying to conquer." Jean asked with a frown.
Briefly, Khulan explained the current situation involving the Russia Mage Associations to her, with Luo Hao only chiming in to add a few more details from her own point of view, particularly in regards to the insult that had caused the downfall of Russia's Red Associations.
"He really dared to say that directly to your face?" the Scottish girl asked, sounding mildly astonished at the rude words that had been directed against her older sibling. "Was he actually trying to get himself killed in the most painful manner he could, or was he just terminally stupid?"
"This one will admit, she had considered the first to be a viable explanation for that act of terminal foolishness, but in the end no. That particular fool and the remainder of his kin had simply become akin to frogs living in a well, knowing nothing of the wider world." the elder Campione responded with a shake of her head. "He and those who stood beside him had deluded themselves into believing that together they and their 'comrades' would be able to overcome any force that they sought to do battle with. Hmph, as if even an army of ants can so much as scratch at the scales of a dragon; I removed him and all those who stood with him in under a minute. I would have left it at that and considered it a lesson well-taught, and yet the fools within his fell Red Associations had the sheer gall to try and rattle their sabres at me over my 'trespass.' Tell me, are all communists such dull and tiring creatures?"
"Fanatics of any breed will generally end up being tiring to deal with at best, Elder Sister." Jean responded with a nod. "Communist ones tend to be particularly convinced of their rectitude and it often provokes a level of zealousness that can be blinding to anything remotely resembling common sense. The ones you dealt with were likely from Stalin's time, so they were likely even worse than normal standards. Still, with the Rodnoveries still in hiding and the communist ones justifiable wiped out, that does mean that the Golden Ones have been forced to practically do the work of two Mage Associations for over a half-century now."
"Tch, I exterminated the last of those communist mages over sixty years ago. The old guard should have emerged from hiding and retaken their position decades ago." Luo Hao offered with an annoyed click of her tongue. "I will have some of my disciples dispatched from my own Mage Association once I return home; they will find the remnants of the Rodnoveries and make them know my displeasure with their continued cowardice before ensuring that they are dragged back into the open and made ready to retake their old duties. It is a mark in the favour of the Golden Ones that they have been able to hold the line for so long without issue, even if the existence of these sorcerous fools does put a stain upon it."
"Many thanks for your kind words and aid, Your Eminence." Khulan offered with a bow. "In truth, all of the Golden Ones are…disgusted that this particular filth managed to infest our lands for better half of a century without discovery. None of the magical detection systems we possess managed to show so much as a hint of their presence."
"Hm. Well I could certainly make use of my Authority to craft a few more worthwhile sensory tools compared to what the Golden Ones currently make use of." Jean pondered aloud. "I'd need to see the strength of the originals to gauge just what abilities I'd need to infuse into them and how much I can improve on them, but I'm fairly certain that your current devices aren't near the same level as Il Maestro and Cuore de Leone?"
"That is very, very true." Khulan agreed with a strong shake of her head. "I'm afraid that creating most varieties of enchanted items, particularly the kind of items needed for scrying or monitoring, isn't precisely a strong suit for either Shamanism or Animism. Our magic is some of the best when it comes to warding off and sealing spiritual entities as well as cleansing items or locations that have been tainted by dark or foreign magics, and the craftsmen among our practitioners are quite good at infusing elemental and spiritual power into weapons, but the kind of esoteric magic needed for scrying is far less within our normal parameters. We can and have managed to craft a few effective ones over the years and acquired more than a few others via trade and agreements with other Mage Associations, but nothing on the level that you could accomplish with your Authority, Your Majesty."
"Junior Sister, this elder one believes that she must pass on a bit of wise council to her junior. Items on the level of power as those two swords come about very rarely. More than a single one emerging in a century would be a cause of great surprise to many who watch for that kind of thing, and they are almost always crafted for the specific purpose of doing battle against a particular Heretic Deity or Campione." Luo Hao interjected abruptly. "As you might imagine, we Godslayers don't generally care for the idea of mortals amassing weapons that could harm us with equanimity. The secrets behind how the master mage-smith who forged those two blades in particular has long been lost to the annals of history. The swords that you granted to my glorious self, the King of Swords, and Khan Khangal are all on that same level, and I would advise you to not make any more weapons of that tier for at least a century or so if you do not wish to attract the eyes of many will ill intent. Other creations of magic and splendour would likely be fine, but for one to casually hand out so many weapons touched by the power of the divine to non-Campione is most…unwise."
"Ah, I was not aware of just how rare such items could be, Senior Sister. I will make note of and give your advice all the consideration it is due." Jean nodded. "I have already provided weapons of similar quality for my wife and Yue to help balance the scales, if you will excuse the expression, with them being a Hearth Witch and a fairly average Daoist Mage respectively. I shall endeavour to not let any further weapons of such quality out into the world at large for some time into the future, however."
Khulan and Jean spoke for a bit longer, setting up a proper meeting in the near-future for the Scottish Campione to examine the scrying and monitoring tools that the Golden Ones currently relied on to determine their power. It was an amicable chat, until Luo Hao spoke up once more.
"Girl, you mentioned earlier that there were issues with your Great Uncle's succession. Speak more of who is currently slated to take his place."
"Ah…that would be our sole Great Knight, Luvsannorovyn Hadaa, Your Eminence." the Shamaness replied, dropping slightly. "She is…well, she is not expected to be a pleasant leader by many in our ranks."
The two Campione exchanged knowing looks. "Khulan, we order you to tell us everything you know about this Hadaa woman. Now." Jean said simply, eyes narrowing. She had gotten to know Khulan rather well during their short time together and the girl had quickly proven to be the type that rarely had a bad word to say about anyone she worked with, always doing what she could to put the Golden Ones in the best light she could. So, for her to have been willing to say even something so slightly damning about this Hadaa woman meant that the young Shamaness had some very serious reservations about the woman.
Hesitating for just a moment, Khulan promptly did as she was ordered. The Great Knight's immense sense of pride and her generally unpleasant and domineering demeanour, the intense hatred and jealously she seemed to express towards any woman that could be considered more powerful than her or even have the potential to become so; her rather deep and twisting anger towards Campione in particular as a result of that self-same twisted sense of pride. The suspicion that Khan Khangal had shared with her that Hadaa might be foolish enough to arrange some form of assassination attempt against one of the two Campione that had entered into what she viewed as her territory, and the general and growing fear among the Council of Golden Ones that their Association would face a fate similar to what happened to the Communist Mage Associations when Hadaa's pride finally overcame her ability to hold her tongue.
"…Elder Sister, you hold dominion over Mongolia as its Campione, do you not?" the redheaded girl asked carefully after digesting Khulan's words for a moment.
"Indeed, I do." Luo Hao agreed absently. "I defeated the Khan of the Golden Ones in mortal combat over two centuries ago and have held dominion over these lands ever since."
"And the Khan of the Golden Ones is considered to be your steward, acting in your name?" Jean continued her line of questioning.
"Essentially that is correct. I have rarely cared enough to intervene directly in the running of those Mage Associations which have bent knee to me, nor do I normally have the cause or need to." the Ruler of the Martial Realm offered with a slight nod of her head. "My eldest and most capable disciples within my Holy Cult of Five Mountains keep things running quite smoothly in my stead and know only to bring matters to my attention when there is no other recourse in order to allow me to focus my attentions on continuing my eternal quest to hone and refine my martial arts to their utmost limits."
"…putting that aside for a moment, given what you have heard from Khulan, do you believe that this Hadaa woman would be a suitable steward of your lands, one capable of acting in accordance with your will?" the Scotswoman pressed, mentally pitying all of Luo Hao's direct subordinates and 'disciples' within her Mage Association.
"Most obviously not. To do so would be like picking up a scorpion and trusting it not to try and sting you." Luo Hao offered with a snort. "One should always remember the lessons of the old fables, and the tale of the scorpion and the fox is a wise one indeed. Though this 'Hadaa' is unlikely to do anything more than slightly inconvenience my supreme self, and I would honestly be most surprised if she could even manage that much, having to personally deal with whatever infantile plots that this foolish little child who does naught but shriek and flail at the unfairness of the world has concocted would be a most tedious waste of my time. Shamaness, you will carry my words to the Council of the Golden Ones; upon the passing of Khan Khangal, until a mage of capable ability and suitable temperament achieves the rank of Great Knight in power they are to govern the Golden Ones collectively in my name. Luvsannorovyn Hadaa is not to be given leadership. So orders Luo Cuilian, the Ruler of the Martial Realm."
The Next Day
Luvsannorovyn Hadaa's Private Chambers, Golden One's Headquarters
The entire suite was in utter shambles. Furniture had been thrown about and reduced to little more than piles of kindling and splinters, each wall bore at least a dozen gouges cut into it, and nearly every bit of decoration or accoutrement had been shredded, smashed, crushed, or otherwise completely destroyed. And standing amidst the only clear spot at the very centre of all of the destruction, panting and seething in utter fury, was the Great Knight who had, until today at least, been slated to become the next Khan of the Golden Ones.
"Those worthless, spineless old fossils!" she howled out, slashing out at the remains of a nearby armchair with the Sword of Genghis Khan once more. Said chair had already been reduced to pieces, but in her (self-)righteous rage, Hadaa honestly couldn't care less. "That old carcass will be dead before the sun next rises and I should be taking his position, but now those feckless idiots are denying me what I have earned!? All because that Chinese cow Luo Hao has decided I am 'unsuitable' for the position and has ordered me to be passed over for it! And those worthless cretins aren't even trying to protest!? Don't screw with me, damn your eyes!"
Everything that she had been working towards since she first joined the Golden Ones was now in tatters. Her ambitions, her pride, her plans…everything had all been turned to dust in less than a day. She had been extremely diligent when she had been securing the Grimoires confiscated from the Sorcerers, ensuring that each was sealed properly and appropriately within a specially prepared box inscribed with magic to help dampen its magical abilities and make it more difficult for the deity whose Authority it contained to notice their presence; all because she was so sure that they would fall under her control soon enough after she took her place as Khan.
Had she known of this…perfidy by the Council, she would have used the opportunity to take at least one for herself.
'Without my promised position my so-called 'allies' will abandon me like the worthless rats that they are, and without them my plans to assassinate the Campione aren't even worth attempting.' Hadaa thought furiously, looking for something she could salvage from this mess, only to find nothing worth keeping. 'I cannot stay here; even if I retain my position as second-in-command of the Golden Ones, it will be intolerable knowing that my rightful position will forever be denied me. I suppose it is far past time I take my leave of this bushel of inbred fools and seek greener pastures elsewhere. And of course, the Sword of Genghis Khan shall act as my weregild for my lost position; let us see this lot of self-deluded incompetents appoint a new 'Khan' without their precious relic!'
The sheer amount of hatred and spiteful vitriol emanating from the Great Knight by this point would have curdled any milk she came across and sent small children fleeing for their mothers, but the woman was well beyond caring at this point. The Sword of Genghis Khan represented everything that she had struggled and worked to attain in terms of power and prestige in her life, and she wasn't about to give it back just because a bunch of worthless old codgers and a pair of whores too stubborn to die thought they command it of her!
Sheathing the blade once more at her hip, Hadaa swiftly gathered up a backpack full of her clothes and some other necessities before storming out the door, intent on leaving immediately, before that damnable old carcass that had to behind this could even turn into a real one.
'Let him go to his grave knowing his beloved association's precious relic was lost to them.' Hadaa thought spitefully as she stepped out into the underground hallway.
The majority of the headquarters of the Golden Ones was located underground, having been carved beneath the sewer systems of Ulaanbaatar, with a few buildings scattered aboveground primarily serving as entrances and exits to the winding complex. It had initially been constructed by the mage-priests of Örgöö, Ulaanbaatar's original name when it had originally been a mobile yurt monastery, as it was settled down in its current location sometime in 1778 to later become known as Urga. Naturally, as the city around it grew, the complex itself rapidly grew, changed, improved, and expanded along with it and the advancement of time; the current complex lacking nothing in terms of modern conveniences and comforts. Only a few vital portions of the complex were located aboveground, including the devices that monitored the country that were secured within the Choijin Lama Temple. The ancient tunnels themselves contained numerous meeting rooms, ritual chambers, vaults, and of course a number of private quarters for those members directly involved in the running of Mongolia's Mage Association. In a pinch, the complex of tunnels and chambers could securely, if not exactly comfortably, house the entirety of the mage population of the country for up to six months without issue.
Hadaa had lived within these tunnels for most of her life now and had become quite adept at navigating its almost labyrinthine construction. She was also the Great Knight of the Association and thus had access to many of the places and passages that the regular members would not be allowed, including a number of escape passages built just in case a neighbouring Mage Association decided to attack the complex and there was no way of repulsing them.
Darting through the empty passages, Hadaa noted the emptiness and frowned. While her (now former) chambers were located in the section reserved for high-ranking members, there was almost always some servants or aides rushing about the corridors doing their drudge work or running some errand. This kind of quiet was unnatural.
She came to a halt at the doorway that would lead to the small hall where the entrance to the closest of the escape tunnels was located. The Baatruudyn Tankhim (Hall of Heroes) was a place where those who had fallen in service to the Golden Ones and their Khan had been memorialized and it was supposed to be a place of quiet contemplation and sanctity, not that she had ever cared all that much. More importantly, the doors were traditionally always kept open save for a when a few yearly rituals were being conducted within, so the fact that they were shut was more than slightly bizarre.
Gripping the hilt of her sword, the woman pushed one of the doors open and strode into the hall, promptly stopped three paces in, dumbfounded at what she'd found.
Standing in the middle of the hall was Khan Khangal, dressed in a simple, pure white shift and nothing else. Clasped in one emaciated hand was a sword that, if anything, radiated even more power than the Sword of Genghis Khan. The old Khan's eyes were serene and placid, but there was an ocean of steel within them.
"Ah, Luvsannorovyn. You certainly took longer than I expected in deciding to flee." He offered her a genial greeting. "I take it you spent quite a while indulging in the destruction of your quarters before you decided to turn your heels."
"You…!" Hadaa hissed out, anger quickly rekindling after sputtering briefly in confusion. "What are you doing here?"
"Why, I am merely here to see you off." Khangal replied with a slow and weary chuckle. "It was rather easy to predict that you would be incensed enough by the loss of your position as heir that you would decide to take your leave of the Golden Ones, and that is very much your right. Our Association has never made any claims to own our members, after all; those that wish to leave have always been free to do so. I am afraid, however, that I must insist that you leave the Sword of Genghis Khan here before you depart. It is not yours to take."
"I have earned this blade with my blood and sweat, with MY effort! It is MINE now, and you and the rest of those geriatrics will not take another thing from me!" the Great Knight snarled out furiously. "I don't need to fucking kowtow to your exalted bloodline anymore, I will simply take what is my due!"
Ripping the blade free from its sheath, she levelled it at the dying old man before her, a sneer on her lips.
"So if you want this sword back so badly, then come and take it, you half-dead corpse!" she shouted arrogantly.
For a moment, Khangal just looked at the girl, woman really, before him. Luvsannorovyn Hadaa had once been such a promising young mage, a child with immense potential, before hatred, pride, and jealously had twisted her into the spiteful creature before him. One so ready to lash out at anything and everything just out of a desire to make others miserable so she could feel stronger for it. He had no choice here.
"If that is your wish." he offered with a sigh, making Hadaa jerk in shock as he raised his own sword and held it in an easy ready position. "As my final act as Khan of the Golden Ones, I shall take back the Sword of Genghis Khan from you and teach this young whelp just how large the world we live in truly is, where a feeble old man like I, with one foot already in the grave, can defeat a fiery young stripling such as yourself."
Hadaa ground her teeth together in outraged fury. Even at times like this, this old fossil thought he could lecture her!?
With a wordless shout of anger, she slashed out, sending a wave of green-tinged magic slicing through the air at her enemy. It was one of the inbuilt abilities of the Sword of Genghis Khan; the blade was supernaturally durable, had an edge that was ever-sharp and could cut through just about anything mortal, and could freely gather ambient magic and fire it off as a cutting blast in response to its wielder's will.
Khangal responded by calmly stepping two paces to the side, allowing the arc of pure magic to sail past him and be neutralized by the protective wards that ensured the names carved into the wall in Mongolian Cyrillic would not be damaged by any magical accidents or sabotage.
"I have always felt that you were far too young when you were first granted that sword." he offered blandly as she goggled at him. "You were talented and powerful enough, yes, but you needed more experience and seasoning as a combat mage before you took it up. Now, you've grown overly reliant on its abilities rather than your own skills as a mage, something that can easily be the death of any warrior. Agaaryn Döngö."
Instantly, Hadaa found her arms and legs held immobile by bands of compressed air, much to her shock. Shamanism and Animism were by no means arts unsuited for combat, but they normally required a chant or at the very least a small verse to cast their spells in the heat of combat.
'His puissance with his spells is truly exceptional! Even I can't cast a combat spell using just its name!' the Great Knight thought, astonishment briefly breaking through her rage as she swiftly chanted a quick verse to activate her own spell. "Agaaryn Ursgalyn Tasaldal! (Airflow Disruption!)"
With a brief ruffle of wind, the spell binding her was dispelled.
"Gerliin Sumnuud! (Arrows of Light!)" Khangal responded absently, unbothered that his initial spell had been broken. In an instant, a dozen arrow-like beams of white light formed around him before launching forward at Hadaa.
"Enough with these apprentice-level spells!" the woman snarled out, raising a free hand and, with another brief verse, raising a glowing white shield to block them. Both the Air Shackles and Arrows of Light were simple combat spells that were taught to every single member of the Golden Ones, regardless of what magic system they used. Hadaa could feel her blood starting to boil at this old fossil still treating her like some misbehaving child.
So she was understandably shocked when those twelve arrows of light each impacted her shield like a cannon blast, with the twelfth shattering it like glass and sending her stumbling back. That should have been impossible; Arrows of Light was only supposed to form simple constructs of light and fire them with the speed and force of a recurve bow, which would reach somewhere between 124 mph/200kph at most. Those arrows…they were far stronger to be able to shatter even the simple shield that she'd used.
"I have been alive for just below two centuries, young Hadaa." Khangal reminded her placidly. "In that time I have never stopped studying and improving upon my understanding of the magical arts of our people; after so long, I have reached a point where even the simplest spells in my repertoire have all been honed into weapons that can stand alongside some of the more powerful spells young combat mages seek to learn. Underestimate those who have proven themselves canny enough to live a long life at your own peril, young one. Galt Bömbög!"
A ball of fire appeared floating over his free hand before he sent it flying towards Hadaa with a gesture.
As she slashed again with her sword, sending another arc of magic to intercept the fireball, causing an explosion to roar between them, Hadaa's mind was moving at hundreds of miles an hour to try and make sense of this new information. It was utterly inconceivable to the prideful young woman that someone who should be hovering on the brink of death like Khangal could, even now, be a more potent mage than her. Her pride, her arrogance, roared in defiance and urged her into action, leaping forward through the smoke with her blade at the ready in an attempt to leverage her younger, stronger body in order to swiftly achieve victory.
"Awaken, Uulyn Taslagch!" Khangal intoned simply as she emerged from the smoke, blade still held at a ready stance before him.
The eruption of pure POWER that erupted off of him in that moment made Hadaa freeze for a brief moment before her body instinctively retreated way. And it was not just any power either; it was unmistakably the power of the divine.
"What…what is this!?" she demanded, fearful uncertainty creeping into her voice. "What have you done, old man!?"
"This, Hadaa, is what can result when you treat a Campione with respect and honour, rather than with jealousy and envy for a power you were not meant to wield." the Khan answered simply, a new strength flowing into his voice. "This is the gift that was granted to me by Her Majesty Jean Campbell as thanks for standing with her against Lancelot du Lac. And using this power, I shall now subdue you."
Extending his free hand outward, the old Khan looked the rebellious Great Knight in the eyes. "Taivshruulakh! (Quelling!)"
To Hadaa, the world suddenly shifted. One moment she was standing in shock, the next she was lying on the ground, unable to even twitch as her body was crushed beneath a mountain of divine power. She could barely draw in breath, so great was the power that overwhelmed her. Dimly, she heard Khangal speaking and she strained to listen, to understand what had happened.
"Consider this, stripling; had you managed to irritate either of the Campione, this is but a small taste of what they would have unleashed upon you in retaliation, if they were feeling merciful enough to not simply obliterate you outright." he offered with a sad sigh. "When you awaken, I shall have already departed to the next world, and the Council will be the ones to judge you for your crimes. The path you have taken is one of your own design and choosing, and you must walk to its end, regardless of the outcome. Goodbye, young Hadaa."
As much as she tried to resist, to fight, to deny the inevitability of his words, the darkness at the edges of her vision swiftly spread to consume Hadaa's world and she knew no more.
With Khulan
"UNCLE" the Shamaness screamed as she ran into the Hall of Heroes. She had been looking for him with Jean when they had suddenly felt that surge of divine energy. Khulan didn't think that she had ever run so fast before in her life, but that wasn't important; what was important was the kneeling figure of her beloved uncle as he panted in exertion.
"Ah…Khulan…you're here…" her uncle gasped, a small smile forming on his lips. "I am…g-glad…"
"Uncle!" she shrieked and practically teleported to his side as he swayed weakly in place. She managed to catch him in time and gently eased him onto his back, his hand still locked in a death grip around the sword that Jean had gifted to him even now.
"Y-Your Majesty! Is there anything that you can do?!" the Shamaness frantically turned to the Eight Godslayer as the Scottish girl halted a few feet away from the pair and looked at the old man intensely for a moment. Then slowly, regretfully, Jean shook her head.
"I cannot." she replied sadly. "It was the core of divine magic within the sword that was sustaining your Khan's life-force; now that he has expended that power for the day, it will not reignite until the sun next rises, there is nothing I can do to alter that process. Without that spark of the divine to sustain him, his end is approaching rapidly; he has…at best five minutes left."
"E-Enough…Khulan…." Khangal rasped out tiredly, looking every inch of his two centuries of life. "My time on this world is drawing…to a close. That I have been granted long enough to be able to discharge my last duties as Khan by ensuring a renegade will not be able to steal our Golden Horde's most precious treasure is a…good way for me to meet my end.
"Curse that woman to the hells for forcing you to do this!" Khulan ground out, trying to hold in her tears of both sorrow and rage.
"I am…I am a warrior, Khulan. A proud fighter." the dying man responded, a weak smile on his lips. "As I told you when I stepped forth to face Lancelot…a warrior's death is preferable to withering away in bed."
"…" Jean approached them and knelt in front of Khulan's uncle before her eyes glowed briefly. "Tutelary Transfer."
"…!" Khangal's eyes widened briefly as they glowed as well for an instant. "Y-Your Majesty…this is…!"
"That is the power of the Authority I have earned from slaying Freya, Khan Khangal." the Youngest Campione stated softly. "I can use it on you, but you must understand what it will entail for you. Once I have used it, there is no going back."
"Wh-What are you talking about?" Khulan asked, looking between her uncle and the Campione in confused worry.
"Think, Khulan. What was the one domain that could have been of use to her in our battle that Freya did not even attempt to call upon?" Jean asked softly.
Blinking in confusion, Khulan mentally replayed the battle in her mind. Freya had called forth both her chariot and her companion boar from her own legend and she had drawn on the runic magic that she had gained from Odin's Authority. Her domain over Seidhr would not have been much use in such a conflict, so that just left…
"…her position as the Queen of the Valkyries." the Shamaness breathed out, eyes widening. "As the Receiver of the Slain. That's the Authority that Lady Pandora granted to you on Freya's defeat, isn't it?"
"It is also likely the main part that allowed her to be called down as a Heretic God, her role a psychopomp." the redhead nodded her agreement. "Like the Japanese Shinigami or the more modern interpretations of the western Grim Reapers, or even some of the ancient legends behind the Grecian God Hermes and Roman God Mercury; Freya and the Valkyries were in charge of ferrying worthy fallen warriors on to their well-earned afterlives in the Hall of Valhalla or the Hall of Sessrúmnir in the field of Fólkvangr so that they might enjoy feast, rest, and battle until they were called on to fight once more during Ragnarök. Freya grew dissatisfied with this aspect of her own legend, believing that collecting the souls of 'mere' mortals, no matter how worthy, was beneath a goddess such as her. That was the hook in her legend that the Thuleorden's ritual was able to able to latch onto in order to get her to descend."
"So…when you say that you can use it on my uncle…!" Khulan was rapidly connecting the dots.
"When I received it, I named this new Authority as [Chooser of the Slain], as opposed to Freya's title of 'Receiver of the Slain' since I refuse to follow the Norse definition of who is or is not worthy." Jean answered with a nod. "So long as I, personally, believe that someone who has recently fallen is worthy of it, I can turn their spirits into an Einherjar and send them on to Sessrúmnir to await my summons. That is what I am offering your uncle."
"But he can't fight in this condition!" the Shamaness protested.
"My…spirit's form…would be regressed back to when I was at my strongest…my prime…while allowing me to keep all of my power, my knowledge…and experience." Khangal corrected his niece. "Her Majesty passed all her understanding of her new Authority to me…a moment ago. It really does…sound like quite…the honour."
"The downside is that until either I'm killed in battle or die of old age, anyone I turn into Einherjar will be barred from passing onto to whatever fate awaits them after death." the Eighth Campione sighed. She was no longer an atheist, being forced to stare down several gods could do that to one's beliefs after all; but she was still had a hard time believing in things like heaven, hell, and or any other concept of an 'afterlife.'
All Campione had lifespans that could be measured in hundreds of years, with several reaching over eight hundred as evidenced by Luo Hao, who was rumoured to have become a Campione during the 13th Century. The women amongst them even retaining their youthful look well in their later years thanks to the greater effectiveness that anti-ageing magic seemed to have on females. Still, death wasn't something that was beyond even them, and upon death, the effects and powers of their Authorities would end and return to the gods that they had originated from, resetting their legends.
"To be able to fight once again…as I did in my youth…? In the service of one who fights to save lives and uphold…world order, even? It is a better end…than I could have hoped for…" the old Khan whispered, coughing weakly at the end of his words. "Hah…hah…I…think I would enjoy such an afterlife. Please King Campbell, let me…walk the path of a warrior…once again…."
"…Khulan. The final say is yours." Jean sighed. "While I desire to respect his final wish, he is your uncle. I will not do this if you protest."
"I…" Khulan was conflicted. On one side, this was what her uncle obviously wanted. On the other, when all past Khans were laid to rest, their spirits were dedicated to Tengri as a matter of tradition. To allows his spirit to be taken elsewhere (enslaved, as some would no doubt term it) like this would be a gross violation of those traditions.
And yet, as she locked eyes with her uncle, she felt any resistance she had fade. This was the man who had taken her in after her parents had passed away in car accident, all in spite of his age and his important duties as a Khan. He was the one who had taught her everything she knew about Spiritualism and Animism, and more importantly, he had taught her how to be a true and honourable mage amidst a Mage Association where casual politicking had become the norm. She literally owed everything that she was to him; how could she refuse him his last request and dare still call herself filial?
"I…I have no protests, Lady Campbell." she offered with a hard swallow.
"Thank you…Khulan." Khangal offered her a weak smile. "Tell…the Council…that this was MY choice…that you arrived only after King Campbell…had agreed to use her Authority on me."
He coughed again and then sighed, relaxing slightly. "Ack! Haa…two centuries of life…it is both such a long time and but a brief instant in the grand scheme of things. Times have changed many things, yet to the truly long-lived it rarely seems so. Khulan, you have…more talent in the magics of our people than I ever did at your age. I have left you…all of my research…in my final will. All my two centuries of work…in improving my magical abilities. All of it is yours, my girl. Take it…use it…and then improve on it…so that you can become a greater mage than I ever was. I have faith in you."
"Uncle…" the Shamaness murmured, tears running freely down her cheeks. "I love you."
"And I love you, my dear niece." the Khan smiled as his eyes grew distant. "Never…forget…that…"
And thus, Khan Gonchigiin Khangal, leader of the Golden Horde, met the end of his mortal life. Two centuries of life, filled with honour and duty, ended in the aftermath of a battle with an imprudent subordinate who had let herself be driven down a most self-destructive path by her own sense of pride.
Khulan wailed slightly, her head bowed over her uncle's still body. Next to her, Jean merely bowed her head, the man before her having gained a great deal of respect from her over the handful of days that she had known him. She stiffened slightly as, with an inaudible click, one of her Authorities became possible to use for the first time.
"Khulan, lay him down. It is time for me to complete his last request." she spoke gently.
Still sobbing in grief, it took the Shamaness a moment to obey the Campione's gentle command. Carefully settling her Khan's body to the floor, she clasped his hands around the sword that he had been given to him by Jean before standing up and stepping back.
Jean's eyes glowed with power as she gently placed her right hand atop of where Khangal's were folded over his sword. She was silent for a moment before she spoke, her words thrumming with power as she spoke her Authority's aria. "Valorous One, thou who hast given thine all in battle and fallen heroically. Rise once more and serve me until the coming of the End-times!"
A silvery glow spread to cover Khangal's body for a moment before Jean stood up, pulling with her the spiritual body of Gonchigiin Khangal, still dressed in the white robes he had died in. Then his form began to shift and change. He stood straighter, his withered and aged frame seemed to bloom back into the strength of its prime, his flesh and muscle filled out, his wrinkles vanished, and his clothing morphed and shifted into something that would could be called a slightly more modern take on Mongolian tribesman's attire, the outfit he had likely worn into battle during his youth. In the end, only the sword in his hand remained the same.
The spirit of the former Khan of the Golden Ones stood over his own corpse, restored fully to his physical prime with Uulyn Taslagch, a weapon crafted and enchanted for him by a Campione, resting in his hand. Never at any point in his mortal life had he been stronger than he was right now.
"Uncle…" Khulan breathed out. The spirit of her uncle looked at her and offered her a smirk before returning his focus onto Jean, kneeling before her and bowing his head.
"My King, I am yours to command." he offered, his voice powerful and strong, yet echoey and slightly distant.
"Go to Sessrúmnir, and adjust to your new existence as an Einherjar." the Scottish Campione ordered softly. "Rest, practice all of your spells, and await my summons, for when I do call on you, it shall be for battle."
"By your command." Khangal replied before looking at Khulan and nodding once. Then he faded from existence.
"Uncle…" the Shamaness whispered.
"He truly was an astounding man." Jean offered with a bit of awe. "While under the effect of my Authority, an Einherjar isn't supposed to be able to interact with the living outside of battle, but he still managed to do it twice. He must love you a great deal, Khulan; enough that he was able to bend the power of a Divine Authority even slightly to allow him to acknowledge you once more."
"Y-Your Majesty…I beg you to pardon me for what I am about to do." Khulan offered shakily before moving over and hugging Jean, much to the Campione's shock. Jean's face softened as sobs started to wrack Khulan's body and she returned the hug as the young Mongolian woman broke down into tears once again, her grief at the loss of her dearest relative overwhelming her.
"Easy…easy…" the Campione murmured soothingly, remembering her own grief when her Great Aunt had passed away not too long ago. "It's OK, Khulan. I'm here. Let it all out…"
Letting her self-restraint go, Khulan wailed in loss and grief for the man who had raised her, taught her and guided her for most of her life.
And that was how the Council found them a few minutes later, standing over the corpse of their Khan and the unconscious form of their Great Knight. Suffice is to say that things became annoyingly complicated at that point.
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Next Chapter: An Unexpected Detour
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Jean's Authority Spotlight!
[Chooser of the Slain]
Incantation 1: Valorous One, thou who hast given thine all in battle and fallen heroically. Rise once more and serve me until the coming of the End-times!
Incantation 2: Come to my side, my Noble Einherjar!
Freya was the Norse Goddess who received half of those who died in battle in her field, Fólkvangr, and her hall, Sessrúmnir. Known to ride alongside the Valkyries, she elevated those deemed worthy to being Einherjar, warriors who would fight in the battle of the end of the world, Ragnarök.
Effects:
- Allows the user to resurrect a fallen warrior as an Einherjar up to an hour after their death.
- The resurrected warrior can then be summoned to fight alongside the user in any battle.
- The resurrected warrior is capable of any and all physical and magical feats they were capable of during their lifetime. They are also restored to their physical prime and carry the best equipment and magical items that they possessed in life.
Limitations:
- Only those who are considered by the Campione as worthy can be raised to an Einherjar.
- Once resurrected as an Einherjar, the warrior must reside in Sessrúmnir until summoned.
- A maximum of two warriors can be resurrected as Einherjar each 24-hour period, although any number can be summoned to fight alongside the Campione once they are Einherjar.
- Resurrected warriors cannot converse or interact with any living people outside of battle, other than the user. With extreme willpower, an Einherjar can overcome this limitation for limited non-verbal communication.